The Falconhurst Mystery.

Auckland Star, Volume XLVII, Issue 67, 18 March 1916, Page 20

The Falconhurst Mystery.

By EDGAR PICKERING Author of "Murder WUI Ont," "A. "Whining Harapd," "Was She GnntyT , "A Witness From tte Dead," etc, etc.

SYNOPSIS OP PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. CHAPTERS I.—lll.—Sir Brooke Devayue is with bis lawyer. Mr Jodrell. in. the library at Knlconhurst. jriiias instructions for the drawing up of a new will in which Gilbert! Porman becomes heir to the estate instead of Adrian Devayne. the baronet's nephew. After telling Jodrell what he requires doing, \ Sir Brooke discusses the beautiful Mrs • Ellison, a widow, who has evolved his sympathy because Society believes her to be In some degree responsible for her husband's death. Jasper Penkridge, Sir Brooke's and informs Mrs lllison. with whom he is in love, that Adrian has been disinherited. The same evening Adrian quarrels with Sir Brooke, and leaves Falcouhurst early next morning, giving his address to the housekeeper. He visits Hester Dean, whom he toad married secretly some months previously, and while with her receives a telegram which states that Sir Brooke has been murdered. CHAPTERS IV.—VI.—At the inquest on Sir Brooke, the verdict of "Murder by some person or persons unknown" is returned. Adrian Devayne, who is now the possessor of Falconhurst, the new will disinheriting him not having been signed, asks Gilbert Dorman to help him find the mnrdcrer. Later Jasper Penkridge asks Mrs Ellison to marry him; this she promises to do. although she does not intend to keep her promise. CHAPTER VII. Sir Brooke Devayne's funeral was ever, and in one of the rooms furthest away from those which he had occupied, Adrian Devayne was engaged in conversation with Mr. Jodrell's managing clerk who had come down to Falconhurst in place of the old lawyer whose illness had taken a critical turn. There had been no formal reading of the dead man's will, for no one except Bevayne, and a few legatees, were interested in it, whilst its clauses had been known long ago. Gilbert Donnan had been left two hundred pounds and some excellent advice, and an ample life interest in the property was provided for Sir Brooke's sister. The estate wns Adrian's now. untrammelled by any conditions save paying Mrs. CJascoyne her income, yet, although he had always known he was to inherit, the fact of his being a rich mar. gave him very little gratification. "Mr. Jodrell was down here ailay or

two ago for the second time within a week." he said. "Do you know of any business Sir Brooke and he had to settle?"

"Mr. Jodrell has not mentioned anything in reference to it," replied the clerk. "Therefore it can hardly have been of importance. Jt was probably no more than a friendly visit. Sir Brooke ?nd Mr. Jodrell had known each other lor many years."

"Still it seems ftrange for liim to have come. I should like you to make some infjiiiries when you go back to the oflice."

"I'm afraid that is out of the question. one is allowed to see Mr. .Jodrell. and he lias not 'been at the office since he returned from Kalconhurst the last time. The oflect of what has happened—l refer to Sir Brooke's death —has been extremely serious to Mr. Jodrell. Heart trouble," and the speaker gathered his papers together, for the business was concluded.

"I shall be very much obliged if you can find mc a competent man as secretory," said Devayne, rising from the table. "Mr. Penkridge has decided not to stay, and I'm not exactly sorry, but he was a trustworthy fellow, and had the affairs of the estate at his finger ends, which is more than I have, to say nothing of the work they entail."

The clerk promised to introduce someone who could be highly tpcommended, and refused to stay to luncheon. He seemed in a hurry, to leave, and Devayne accompanied him to the hall door, with a suspicion that the clerk's haste was occasioned by his distaste to remain in a house so recently the scene of a tragic mystery.

""I am anxious to get back to the office, Mr. Devaijrne," he explained. • "We are overwhelmed with business, find Mr. Jodrell's absence is sadly missed."

It was to be an absence ior ever, because as the managing clerk travelled Londonward, Mr. Jodrell had begun a longer journey from which there would be no return, and carrying the secret of his visit to Falconhurst with him.

Devayne remained a few moments at the open hall door after the clerk had left, and was about to back to his room, when he saw a black-robed ngure coming up the drive. It was Mrs. Ellison, and in his depression of spirits the sight of someone to talk to came as a relief to -his feelings. FaJconhurst had been almost unbearable to him with its load of horror, grief, and silence, and he held out his hand with an unusual cordial itv.

""People appear to have shunned the place lately," he told her in his rough way. "They've left cards and sent flowers, but I haven't seen a friend to speak to until you came. I've had a lawyer fellow with mc until just now— you must have passed him in the drive. He hurried off as though the house was plague-stricken." "I understand," she replied, in a sympathetic tone. "'One doesn't get much pity or consideration at times like this. I've gone through too much trouble not to know that, and what the loss of a dear friend means." The black-bordered cambric handkerchief had been put to her eyes for a moment, and Devsfjne choked down a lump that had risen in his throat. "It's very good of you to come," he said, j "I wanted to see Mrs. Gascoyne," and Mrs. Ellison appeared to make a resolute effort to restrain her feelings. "How is , she? I thought I might be able to give her a word of comfort. I've known 'what bereavement is, Mr. Devayne, and can enter into other people's sorrows." "She is sleeping now, so he*r maid told mc. Come into my room, for it's hateful Tjein;r alone there. Not that it will be for long, thank goodness." "Have you someone coming to Falconhurst i" * '"Yes," he answered curtly, as ' they passed across the hall to the. room ■where Mr. Jodrell's managing clerk had been transacting his business. • ... jj "The place is horribly oppressive," he went on. "You musn't mind the state of the room." ( "Why should I think of that?" she answered in a tone of commiseration. "If you only half guessed what I feel.for the grief that you have gone through—and Sirs. Gascoyne. Sometimes I've thought you doubted mc." N ' Bevayne's remorse was aroused at. this, for there had been occasions when. Mrs. j Ellison's lustrous eyes and winning ways! had exercised a strange fascination, and he had avoided her in consequence, but le was too loyal, too honest to allow

-tco.pjriau.HTj

it to remain long, and the mental picture of Hester dispelled it and the sense of danger it had brought. He was adamant now, and felt only gratitude, for Mrs. Ellison had proved herself a true iriend in coming that day. "'Will you believe that I never wilfully showed you any neglect, Mrs. Ellison?" he said. "It's not in my nature to kick people when they're down—especially a woman. 1 know a great deal of what you've gone through, and how bravely you've faced it. Sir Brooke told mc that, and if 1 can help you as he did, you can always reckon on me.' , "How gooTt-you are!" she exclaimed, and the black-edged handkerchief went to her eyes again. "I've always , tried to seem indifferent and all that, but when anyone speaks kindly, as you have, I break down. You'll say I'm awfully weak.' , ' "I think you've been a very badly-useti woman," and Mrs. Ellison recognised in the gruiT, determined tone something that brought a warm thrill of triumph, and she held out her little hand wiUi a pathetic gesture of thanks. He would not have been a man with all the weakness and chivalry of one if he had refused to respond, and for an instant or two her hand remained in his. "You have made mc happier than I've been for a long while," she said impulsively, and the colour sprang to her cheeks, lidding its bewitching charm. There was the'look of perfect confidence —the look that had rewarded Jasper Penkridge and sent the hot blood thrilling through his veins. Then the restraint that had marked the conversation seemed to vanish, and the talk lost its lugubrious tone. It was not in Dcvayne's nature to be sloomy. and Mre. Ellison had aroused him from Tiis depression for the time. "Shall you remain at Kaleonhurst?" she asked, noticing the change. "It will not, be convenient for mc to go abroad—-at present, anyway. Later on. unless"anything unforeseen happens.

1 may." "I should be very sorry if you went •nviv Perhaps you, will think that rather a bold thing to say,-but it's the truth. 1 should have no one to ask advice of if you went, so really I'm only scl&sh. Do you understand what 1 mean?" "Quite well. A woman without a friend is to be pitied." . "Thafs why r value your friendship, and Mrs. Ellison's voice had a little emotional tremour. "You'll let mc call it that, won't you? 1 should be svery loaelv without it, Mr. Devagne." He" was looking at her in a way that caused her heart to j,'ivc a sudden throb, and a vision of victory came before her. As Mrs. Adrian Devajne. the mistress of Falcoiihurst, she would bo able to repay the scorn and contumely she had suffered. She had anticipated difficulties in her attempt to ingratiate herself, and had prepared for them, but Devayue's reception had disarmed her: the weapon she carried might be laid aside. There was,not the shadow of regard nor warmer feeling tor him, but the protection of his name and wealth ■were the prize she had set herself to

win. • She was too cautious to prolong her visit, and, rising from the chair, she held out her band again, flushing with satisfaction.

'Is there anything I can do for you?" as if the impulse of a thankful heart prompted the question. "Any trifling thing , ? Even a weak woman may help others sometimes." t

"Yes, I think there is something you can do for mc, Mrs. Ellison." he answered. "I've someone coming to Falconhurst who will be glad of a companion." "I don't understand," she exclaimed. "It's only right you should know that I'm married," he answered. "I'm speaking of my wife."

CHAPTER VTTT. Behind the window of a small house, hard by Great Titchfield Street, and guarded as it were by a dented wire blind that bore the name of Mr. Ezra, that worthy gentleman might have been seen any time between ten o'clock in the morning and four o'clock in the afternoon. A brass plate announcing ■his profession of solicitor had graced the door post years ago wlien it had been stolen, leaving only an unsightly block of wood, but the plate had not been replaced, and the disfigurement had gradually adapted itself to the general air of decay which marked the premises, the lower room that was level with the road, being an office. Great Titchfield Street was round the corner, whence came the hum of a street market, and very little else disturbed the monastic quietude of the house. Mr. Ezra was a eupeptic, beady-eyed, olive-skmned man of between forty and fifty, who may have dressed respectably twenty years previously, iut his clothes had attained a greasy time-worn look now."and his linen proclaimed a fine indifference to either fashion or cleanliness. He was more comfortable with a loose wrapper round his throat than wearing a collar, and, as there was nobody to care what he did or how he dressed, Mr. Ezra had gone contentedly on in his own way that most people would have considered rather a dreary one. His office was -redolent of dust, tobacco smoke, and white mice, the latter occupying a snug retreat between a row of black tin boxes and the fireplace, and upon them Mr. Ezra expended his affection. He had no relatives, or, at least, none worth his while to remember, and the companionship of the sleek little creatures made up for his lack of friends. His white mice were to be trusted, which was more than could be said of mankind in the general, whilst their tricks and cunning appealed to him. ■ A stranger might have wondered whether any business ever crfme to him, but, with commendable patience, he eat at his desk day by day until four, when the office was closed, and Mr. Ezra had dinner. Later on he was accustomed tio take,the air in Great Titehfield Street-before going early to ted, thus enjoying'an almost idyllic life "without any apparent'care, and grateful for such reward ;as ,his"labouij,_bronght him. • - It might be :tnie_, as some people had averred, that his ideas/, of right and wrong: were riot very rigid, bat .ihai is said of other lawyers, and no one had been able to prove him'any other than honest. Neither would a stranger have doubted the urbanity that marked his

dealings with those who came to him for help or mercy, although they got little of either, but he <was always ready to lend money on business terms, and if these were stringent and <%c penalty for transgressing them severe, not" to say disastrous to the borrower, no one could conscientiously have blamed him for maintaining the sacred character of a contract.

He had breakfasted, as usual, in his office one morning, sharing his meal with his friends the white mice by gathering -crumbs into separate little mounds on the desk at which he sat. Then he took <lown the cages and called the inmates by name, who responded fearlessly except one, who remained coyly in the corner. She was a .new comer, and Mr. Ezra emSoldened her as he would have encouraged a shy child.

"Gome,, then, my pretty," he said in an unctuous voice. "The little Titi must not lie afraid," and he put his plump hand fnto the cage, lifting Titi out with the gentlest care. "See how that fat husband of yours is eating— haste my sweet, or he will have had all the crumbs, the greedy fellow."

His eyes, ns sharp anu very much the colour of Titi's. were full of affection for the timid mouse ac he stroked her eleek coat and purred hie endearments. He iliad guided her to the food with tli2 feather of a etumpy quill pen and disciplined one of the other mice out of her -way. When the crumbs had been eaten there was a game to be played in which Mr. Ezra took his share along with his mice, that raced in and out of the piseon holes amongst his papers, some of the documents being nothing lose than death warrants to certain human being*, amid a running fire of chuckles and fun. and at that moment Mr. Ezra was like a merry boy and as harmless.

'"Be careful!" he shouted, "Or the Lord Chancellor will drown himself in the inkpot. Then we should all be in black with a vengeance. Ah! the rogue! Now then. Peter, you shall eit as the judge—so," and he perrihed one of the mice on a shelf of the desk. "We will summon the jury. Silver Sides, where are you? In the very act of eating a bill of costs, I declare, and that will never do. Titi shall sit by Peter like any other lady who comes to hear the trials, ah! ah!" and Mr. Ezra lay buck in his chair laughing loudly as he talked thus.

The door of the office had been opened without any warning, and the mice had raced to and fro in confusion, greatly to his concern. His innocent little friends had been frightened and he marshalled them into their cages before addressing himself to the newcomer, who had seated himself in the clients' chair uncernruoniouslv. It was.lasper Penkridgc who had interrupted the gambols and, Mr. Ezra having placed his pets iv safety, turned to him. • "You expected mc!" said Penkridgs curtly. "You wrote telling mc you had left Kalcoiviiurst. 1 was not surprised. That murder waa a very shocking affair." "I'm not here to talk about that.'' answered Penkridge irritably, and Mr. Ezra's eyes twinkled for an instant. ,- "It's not a pleasant subject, certainly,*' he replied. "I'ar too mysterious and so on, but somebody will be hanged for it. mark ray words. I saw a man condemned to death last week—hp was just about your height, Jasper, and " Penkridge interrupted him angrily. '"I haven't come to lJßten to nonsense," he snarled. "I can put something in your way. It will want careful handling." « "What sort of business?"' "One Which "will pay you well." f Mr. Ezra leant back in his chair agnin, putting the tips of his plump finjers together, and surveyed Penkridge thoughtfully. "Something that wm pay well, eh?" he repeated. "Well, one can' hardly object to anything that brings the money in." . "Co you know a man named Gilbert Dorman?" went on Penkridgc. "He is a sort of relation of Adrian Devaynp." "I'm wondering why/you really did reave Falconhurst," replied Mr." Ezra absent-mindedly. "Perhaps you'll gay that is no business of mine, and very trulyf And now you've introduced Mr. Dormnn's name. It's a very curious coincidence, for I was just about to write to him when you came in. -I don't mind telling you that Mr. Gilbert Dorman is in danger >of ' being sent to Hollo way." -."He's in debt then?" X'Debt! He's over head and heels in it, and it would be no earthly good to anyone to make him a bankrupt. I Ghould have done so myself if there had been the least chance of being paid for doing it. I regard Mr. Gilbert Dorman as ] a perfectly useless person from a professional point of view—he hasn't any assets. Locking him up in Hollowayi won't produce any, but my client will pay mc for having him arrested, so I needn/t complain." "You'll be doing the very worst thing you ever did for yourself if you make ah enemy of Dorman." "Hell only be one more," and Mr. Ezra laughed quite merrily. "It goes to my ; heart to hurt 'em, but business is business all the world over." Penkridge frowned, for Mr. Ezra's remarks were out of keeping with the -occasion. "Yes, I know yon're -very tenderhearted," he replied. "And I also know that when there's a chance of making money you don't stick at trifles." "It depends upon what they are," said Mr. Ezra. was moistening his lips, which was his habit when he was agitated. "You've heard of. Mrs. Ellison, I suppose?" he continued. "I've heard of Mr. Luke Ellison. He was poisoned, they said," "People tell all sorts of lies," retorted Penkridge. "They do," agreed Mr. Ezra complacently. "What has. Mrs. Ellison to do with either you or mc?" For answer Penkridge took from his pocket book the piece of paper that Mrs. Ellison had found on Sir Brooke Devaynefs deskf and leaning forward he gave it to Mr. Ezra. "Jodrell took the will down to Falconhurst," he said. "I happen to know that much." s - "lf I'm to do anything," replied 'Mr. Ezra, after scanning the paper, "yo.l will have to tell mc a great deal more than .that, Jasper. We might be able io put our hand on the man who murdered Sir Brooke then. Jodrell is dead, so he can't help us." "I don't 'think he Would have done Fb if he were alive." "Perhaps not," and Mr. Ezra fell into a sort of muse. "What do you want mc to do?" ''Something that wiH bring you in a handsome profit." I "And you?" "I shall be paid differently," replied Penkridge.

CHAPTER K. When Devayne made tbe abrupt announcement of his- marriage, Mrs. Ellison betrayed none of the furious anger raging in her breast at the downfall of her plans. On the contrary she expressed delight. "Yoii'H forgive mc for being astonished," 6be cried, "for I congratulate you with —1 my heart.". "There were reasons for keeping our marriage a secret," he went on. "They're at an end now." - "1 might have smoothed them away if you had trusted mc," she answered. "Where is Mrs. Devayne living?" "In a. place about twenty miles from here. She rather objects to come to ! Falco—lurs't, and I don't blame her. Tho people da the neighbourhood are not much to my liking and since—we.l, lately, they've shown mc very little sympathy. We shall go abroad as soon as possible." "I think you will be wise. It is just what I should do were I in your place," replied Mrs. El_son. "Anyway 1 shali do what I can to make your wife's visit pleasant," and at this he thanked her heartily. On her way down the carriage drive Mrs. Ellison allowed her anger full play, and it was not appeased by linding a letter awaiting her at home. It was from Pcnkridgc,- giving her his London address, and worded with tlie assurance of an accepted lover, which she read with an air of contempt. Hester had consented to leave tho cottage much against her will: a horror of l Fulconhurst could not be resisted. Sir Brooke's awful death was always present in her mind, although he had been a perfect sfcnuiger,'and the look in her husband's face when he read the fateful telegram would never be forgotten. He had said very little after showing her i the meesoge and she had misjudged his silence. Evening was closing in when she readied r'alconhurst, and in the waning light the house presented a forbidding aspect. Devayne was standing at tbe door as the lumbering fly that bod brought her from the station drew up, and she cast a look into the gloomy hall. "it isn't the home-coming for you 1 hud hoped for," he told her. "There is no one except ourselves in the house. Mrs. Gascoync left yesterday." "I did not want to come, Adrian," she replied. "You can't wonder at that." "There's a curse on -the place,,", he (answered bitterly. "Do you suppose I like being here? I ought not to have made you come, you will say." "No. I've not thought that." He was looking at her with a troubled brow as they went across the hall to the broad flight of stairs leading to tlie gallery, where one of the maidservants was awaiting her new mistress. Devayne had remained in the hall, and Hester •was going to her room when a strange voice, coming from below, caused her to step to the side of the gallery and look downward. Devayne was talking to someone there, and she drew back listening. "I did not know you were in the house,' - she heard her husband exclaim/ "But I'm delighted to sec you, Mrs Ellison. Mrs Devayne has just arrived, —wl has gone to her room, or I should have been able to introduce you at oncp."' "I've been in the diaiing-mom quite a long time." replied Mrs Ellison. "Charles said you were engaged when i called, so I waited. Mayn't Igo tip to Mrs Dc--1 vaync's roonv and introduce myself?" Hester did not hear his answer, and, going to the stairs, use paused a moment before descending. The light was insufficient for her to be seen distinctly, and Mrs Ellison gave a little cry of surprise,, ami then Devayne came to the foot oi the stairs. "You gave Mrs Ellison a fright,. Hester," he said, with a hard laugh as she looked full at her visitor. "Xot in the least," retorted Mrs Elli- ; 6on, addrcssiim Hester gaily, "and I'm more than delighted at seeing you." "You said that we were alone in the house. Adrian," said Hester after a few civilities had been passed. "So I believed." he answered, "but it seems that Mrs Ellison has been waiting in the dining-room 1 ," and he turned to her. "I hope you did not find it too dull," he added. "Xot a bit." she laughted. 'Tor I had a presentiment tihat Mrs Devayne was coming this evening, and was naturally anxious to welcome her." The hall lamp had been lighted as they stood talking, and Mrs Ellison was looking steadily at Hester, who returned the scrutiny. "May I come with you to your room!" asked Mrs Ellison, "and will you try to regard mc as Jiot quite a stranger? I think I know how you feel—just as I should myself, but tie feeling will soon wear off." "Adrian has spoken of you to mc," answered Hester, "so you are not altogether a stranger, Mrs Ellison," but the words conveyed no meaning. "I'm so glad," exclaimed the other. "I want to be regarded as a friend, my dear. I've so few myaelf that " She had paused, not finishing the sentence, as though Hester's calmness warned her of something, and then they went together to Hester's room. "It's a curious old hoi—c," remarket! Mrs Ellison, as they passed along the gallery. "One might almost lose one's way amongst the nooks and corners. I have heard that there are come rooms which have not been opened for years— so interesting, is it not?" "I don't think I could ever <be happy in Falconhurst," replied Hester. •____ wished mc to come or I should never have done so." Mrs Ellison gave her another keen look, and changed the conversation, but Hester's cold answers were too immistakablc for her to continue it. "You're tired," she said, pityingly, "so I won't inflict myself on you a moment longer," and Hester made a half-apolo-getic answer. ■"You needn't say that, my deaT," replied Mtb Ellison cheerfully. "Of course, you're too weary for words after travelling. I am myself always, bo I'll say au revoir." Hester remained a moment or two watching her disappear before entering the room to which the servant had directed her. "Perhaps I'm wrong," went her _luttered thoughts. 'Tint I metnigt _Trsj El&on. I hope she ~ill not come here often." Her hope was fulfilled next day, for] at lunoheon Devayne told her'that Mt3 Ellison had been unexpectedly called to London. "Therefore we shall not see her this evening," he added, and Hester gave a sigh of relief. "You don't care for hsr much, I fancy, Hester," he said laughingly. 'I'm afraid of her, Adrj—n," was the reply. (To be continued Saturday next.)