NIGHT TIDE

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 64, Issue 60, 20 December 1943, Page 6

NIGHT TIDE

SERIAL STORY. A Romantic Story of a Great Seaport.

(Copyright). (J. R. WILMQT).

CHAPTER XXXXIII,

MISS FILLINGER LISTENS IN.

Back swung her thoughts to John. That something terrible had happened to him she was sure, and for the first time she began to visualise that somewhere there existed a menace to their happiness; not only hers but also that of her father, John and Lottie Fillinger. With the return of John something sinister had emerged, and the girl felt that none of them would know peace until the spectre had been laid. Came a knock at the door. It was Garvin Blake.

Immaculate as usual, she noted that he was wearing a heavy new overcoat and carried a small brown dispatch case.

“Hello, Shirley, my dear! So sorry to be late. You must be feeling ever so lonely.” He saw the curtains drawn from the window and smiled. “Been watching ‘The Corsair’?” he asked. “She’ll be well down the river by this 'time, and I’ll bet the Captain will be feeling mighty proud of himself. Do you know, Shirley, he was as excited as a schoolboy. An extraordinary man where a ship’s concerned.” Shirley'faced him. “Did he tell you anything about John?” “John? You mean your brother! No. Did he get a job?” “He’s disappeared vanished, I thought you might know something about him.”

Shirley’s heart was beating wildly. Blake screwed his eyes in a puzzled frown.

“I’m afraid you’ve caught me out there. 1 don’t know what you’re talking about!” All the. same the girl’s words had jolted him out of his composure.

“Oh, I just heard the suggestion put forward as a possibility,” laughed Shirley, in relief, “and as we’re all so worried about him, I felt that I had to ask you.” “Who made that suggestion?” Blake’s tone was calm and his voice controlled.

“Just a. friend,” smiled Shirley, casually. “Won’t you sit down." Blake pretended not to have heard her suggestion.

“But why should you suppose I should know anything about your brother’s disappearance?” he insisted. “I don’t,” she told him. “I just wanted to get it off my mind.” “I don’t think I had the pleasure of knowing your brother,” he went on. “Have you a photograph of him by any chance?”

Shirley went to her room for a moment, and returned with one that John had had taken the same year* he had left the sea.. She handed it to him and watched his face. Blake looked down upon the face of Albert Stevens but did not betray the shock that he felt by so much as a. flicker of his eye-lids.

“Nice looking boy,” he commented, handing the portrait back again to the girl. “Sort of man I might have got on with quite well —if I’d met him.” Blake’s mind was working furiously. The information of which he was now possessed heightened the situation and he was telling himself that there was only one thing to be done. He must get into telephonic communication with Cork to his agent there and get the agent to send a. message to the ship warning “Phoney” to be doubly careful that the Captain .did ttot meet the “passenger.” “I know it’s frightfully rude of me, Shirley,” he apologised, “but would you mind if I went, down to my office. I’ve just remembered a telephone call I should have made.”

Shirley smiled her consent and Blake went down below to his telephone.

He was so engrossed- in his own thoughts that he did not notice someone standing hesitantly in the dim corridor beside the staircase; neither did he remember to take the precaution to close the outer door of the office.

Now Miss Fillinger, being a woman, possessed a disposition in which curiosity was blended with the other virtues. She had not anticipated when she had entered Atlantic Building finding any of the business people about, and though she had heard about Blake she had never met the man. Nevertheless, no sooner had she head'd a man’s voice from within the office cursing the telephone operator, that she moved closer to the half open door and listened. There was a pause apparently while the man was waiting for the necessary connections. Then she heard him say: “That you Rennet? Number One speaking. Listen, this is important. ‘The Corsair’s’ sailed and the Captain’s name’s Macadam as was reported. Now you’ve got to get into touch immediately with her from BXY and tell ‘Phoney’ that on no account must he allow Macadam to see the passenger. If he does there’ll be trouble. Tell him I’ve discovered that Stevens’ real name is Macadam and that he’s the Captain’s son reported missing. Got that? No you blithering fool, don’t you understand that we got Stevens two days ago and have been holding him. If I’d known then that he was Macadam’s son I’d have made different plans, now do you understand?”

Whether the man to whom Blake was speaking understood or not Miss Fillinger neither knew nor cared. It was more important that she understood and as she raced up the short flight pf stairs that led to the Macadam apartment, her heart was pounding wildly. The door was ajar when she arrived, and Miss Fillinger boldly entered without the preliminary of knocking. At the sight of her Shirley jumped

from her chair and dropped her novel. “Miss Fillingev!” she cried. “I thought , . .” Lottie Fillinger was regaining her breath.

“What did you think?” she inquired, smilingly. “I thought it was Mr Blake back again. He’s just gone down to his office to telephone. Miss Fillinger started. “Mr Blake,” she repeated, absently. “So that’s it, is it?” “What on earth are you talking about?” laughed Shirley. “You say he’s coming back?” asked Miss Fillinger, excitedly. “Of course he is.” “Do you mind if I stay. But I’d rather he didn’t see me just for a moment,” she went on. “I must tidy myself up. But I want you to promise me that you won’t tell him I’m here,” she added, mysteriously. Shirley stared at her. “But why?” she asked. “What’s all the mystery about?” “Never you mind,” returned Miss Fillinger. “This is your bedroom, Shirley?” she went on, opening a door. “Thanks, and don’t forget.” The door of Shirley’s bedroom closed with the girl standing watching it with amazed eyes. She was still standing there when she heard Blake returning.

“Well, that’s that,” announced Blake, in a satisfied voice, as he entered the room. “Now Shirley, I want you to listen to me for a moment. How about coming down to London with me? I’m leaving Liverpool for a. while. Then we could fly over to Paris for a day or two. Now don’t interrupt, there’s a good girl. No need to worry about your job . . . you can pack up on that. I’m needing a confidential secretary. In fact I’ve had you in my mind for a while and I’m convinced that you’re built for the position. What do you say about that?” Shirley was staggered.

(To be Continued)