THE TURN OF THE TIDE

Auckland Star, Volume LIII, Issue 120, 23 May 1922, Page 8

THE TURN OF THE TIDE

BJ FRED M. WHITE.

CHAPTER X. A MONTH'S ADJOURNMENT. J n a mean thoroughfare leading off High Street, \ Yapping, Ellis was Boated at a common deal table, bney with hie typewriter. The room in which he sat wa* final! and almost insufferably stuffy, but that did not eeem to trouble him in tlie Hlightest. He wae accustomed to thewe discomforts, and even the overpowering s<mel] of fried foil which seemed to dominate the whole atmosphere passed unnotoiced. He was dressed in a shabby suit of tweeds, which apparently had recently been disinterred, from the rag ba<r, and a short clay pipp adorned his lips. Hβ worked on for thp best part of an hour, upon the special which he wae writing for the "Telephone,"' ami which had a great deal to say wk'li regard to the mission he was engaged nproi for he paper. He bed just heard froai Inspector Lock that the d<?ad Iwdy of BUI A very had been taken out of one of the porels on Hampstead Heath. a;nd he was debating in Ms mind as to whether he should introduce the tragedy into hie statement, or whether it migM be impolitic to do so. Finally he decided to say nothing about it, and make inquiries for himself. The unexpected death of Av*ry.whieh conveyed little enough to the ordinary intelligence, wa s illuminating to h'.m, in view of his knowledge as to what -whh going on in connection with those bold and startling robberies on the river. He did not doubt for a moment that Avery's death had been deliberately brought about by same enemy who had a pressing reason for getting the old sailor out of the way. Hβ was etill debating the matter in hie mind when the door opened, and Geoffrey Ruet ,™iie in. He Rniffed audibly, »nd hurriedly proceeded to light a cigarette. "Well, here you are," he eaiiri. '"Thie is my first visit to your Haroun al Kaschid quarters, ond, frankly. I don't , like them. My d?ar chap, can't you write those articles of yours without poisoning yourself in an atmosphere 1 ke this?" "Oh. 1 could." Ellie laughed. "But they wouldn't be the real thing. You see, 1 must mix with the people here, or I can't possibly sketch them in their true colours. Besides, it is not bo bad. 1 have, at any rate, a beautifully clean 'bedroom, and the public baths are only just round the corner. Then, when I am tired of it, I put the key of my room in my pocket, and go Sack to my quarters in the West End. But what brings you here?" Rust proceeded to explain. He had come down there at Vera's instigation, and he had brought Avory'n daughter with him. At lhat very moment etie was downstairs, talking to Ellis' landI lady. '•You see. you arc more or lose responsible," Rust went on. '•Through your queer friendship with this 'Bill Avory, his daughter found her way to the 'Moat House. Isn't this man Avory one of your river allies? ] mean, doeen't he keep you posted in all the queer things those daring thieves are doing?" "He did," Ellis saUl, witn an exceedingly grave face. "But he can't do it any longer, oecause, you see. he's dead." "Dead? As bad ac that, is it?" "Worse, as a matter of feet. 1 am i perfectly certain that poor Bill Avory ' was murdered. 1 learnt not long ago from Insjieetor Lock, who has this queer business in hand, that Avory's body hae just been taken out of a pond at Hampi stead. So far as I can gather, there are no marks of violence on the corpse, and ; his watch and money were found in his poekete. In the ordinary course of events, this would be regarded as just J a prosaic suicide. But knowing what I I do. I call it murder."

"What, murder? You might be a little more explicit."

"My dear fellow, I can't.' , Ellis said, lowering his voice impressively. "My line are sealed. You know why I came down here. It is not altogether to write lurid articles on the life of the submerged tenth; there was a more powerful motive than that. 1 told you about it lung It w,-is my idea that these big robberies on the river were no niej<> exploit* on the part of isolated gangs of thieves, 'but part of some elaborate, criminal machinery, presided over by some one man with not only a gift for organisation, but also one who has the command of unlimited funds. In other words, a gajitleman in the cant sense of the word, and a capitalist. Probably a merchant and therefore in a position to handle thousands of pounds worth of goods at a time without incurring the least suspicion."

•'That sounds like a big order," Rust said thoughtfully.

"A very l>ig order. But ] am convinced that I am right, though I couldn't have said as much a week ago. 1 believe that I am on the track of the most daring set of scoundrcU in the world, and if I told you who 1 thought was at the head of the conspiracy, you would fall off your chair in sheer astonishment. What would you think if I said that I had dined nl the table, and under the ioof of the man who is pulling the strings ?''

'"Oh, 1 should have to believe it, of course," Rust said. '"But is that all you have jjot to tell mc"?"

; "For the present, certainly. My dear chap, I dare not tell you any more. All I can promise is that you shall know as soon as anybody else. I said that Avory hail been murdered, ami I stick to it, and, what is more, I could tell you who is responsible for this cold-blooded crime. But just now I have something else to think about. If you will sit down and smoke a cigarette, I will see that poor girl and break the news to her."

Ellis returned half an hour later, looking rather white and serious. He had performed his uncongenial tack, and appeared rather anxious to get rid of his companion.

'"You mijflit get Miss Langley to tell Vera that it will be impossible for the grf] to return to the Moat House for a day or two," he said. "1 will do all that is necessary in the meantime. I have just called up Lock on the 'phone, and he tells mc that the inquest will be held at Hampstea-d to-morrow morning. Mean while, it is my melancholy tack to so as far as North London with Ada, so that she can identify the body. In- the circumstances, my dear chap, I know you won't mind my turning you oat."

I With that Rust vanished promptly, and Ellis proceeded to pass a terribly distressing afternoon. The gruesome tiling was done at length, and he went back to Wappine with his more or less distracted companion, and handed her ! over to the care of hie landlady. The I inquest was timed for ten o'clock the ' next morning, and he had made 'tip hie mind to be there, not that he expected

anything startling in the way of developments, but perhaps he might hear something likely tp prove useful in an investigation which had by this time become almost an oieession with him. | At a few minutes past ten the next t morning he found himself in a depressing littl* public house out Hampstcad way, J Where in a dreary room the stoiid jurymen were seated listening to what a tousiiieselike coroner had to say. Obviorely. the official in nuutfon attached little importance to the inquiry, which, from his point of view, was quite a prosaic affair. He cut .short what he had to say, end the ]>olioe eurpeon i-anie forward to give evidence. At that moment a new-earner walked into the room, «. tall, elderly man with a long grey beard and « high, domelike forehead, fringed with silver hair. He nodded absently to Ellis, who eager"y ranged ii>p alongt-ide him. "[ hope you haven't forgotten mc Profeseor Phillipeon. f met you once or twice, if you remember, at the Moat House." "Oh. 1 recollect you perfectly well. Mr. EH;e," the great man murmured. "1 think you write those riverside articles in the 'Telephone,' don't you '! Most realistic work.' , "It is very good of you to say so," BHis repilied." 'But for my newspaper work 1 shouldn't be here to-day. You see. the dead man was more or less a friend of mine, and I have every reason to believe that there is something mysterious " "Oh. have you indeed?" PhilHpeon interrupted in a hareh whUper. "Then, between ourselves so have I. I ann not here casually; I wa«! sent here by the Home Office' after I had laid certain faetg before the authorities. I know I can tru*t your discretion, and possibly we oan help one another." With that the professor turned abruptly «way, a« if he did not want to continue ttie conversation, and quite tactfully ElHs appeared to lie absorbed in wh«t wa'i going on. He heard what the police surgeon had to fay with regard to hie examination of the body.

and it eecaned to him that there was a kind of conspiracy afoot to keep certain tilings back. "I have examined the body. ,, the surgeon wag saying. "And 1 have come to the conclusion that deceased had been in the water for unite eight and forty hours. , ' '•You found no marks of violence!'" the coroner asked. "None whatever, sir. So far as J can ■•certain, there was not even a superficial bruiee." ''And no &ign of inter- :'. injuries! - ' '•Absolutely none. P- ■. -.1 wa« an exceedingly well-nourished man, with perfectly healthy organs, though their condition shows a tendency to a'lcoholk excess. But thie, of course, ha« nothing to do with the cause of death, ami I merely mentioned it in the course of my diagnosis." '"Yes, 1 think 1 see what yon mea.ii." the coroner eaid. "It is passible that the deceased was not altogether sober at the time of hie death. Iβ that what you mean to imply?" "Well, perhaps I ought not bo go quite co far as fclwut, sir," the doctor said. "But it might have been co. It is not for mc to give a definite opinion. and I am not prepared to say that such w«e the case, but it might have been.' , Ellis Hutened vaguely to what was going on. It occurred to him that in gome wave the medical witness was evading the issue. Not that he was trying wilfully to deceive the coroner, but he certainly was leading him away from the crux of the matter. Elis had had a good deal of experience in coroners' courts during the last few months, -and he 'had mailc it lii« business to make himself quite familiar with the processes. Moreover, it eeemod to him that the coroner was not averse from thie herring being drawn across thr trail, and Professor PhillipHon, who was listening attentively, nodded from time to time ac he caught the eye of the witnees, and smiled approvingly. There was something here a great deal deeper and more significant than a mere inquiry into the death of a drunken old sailor," though Ellfe wou'd have hardly called Avory that. So he sat there listening carefully, in that sordid little room, with its stuffy atmosphere, and its stolid jurymen, frankly bored with the whole proceeding*, and wondered to himself how it was that three public officials should be more or less in league to throw dust in the eyes of the ptiWic. The rain dripped <li«nally outside, and in a corner of the rooTii the dead man's daughter wept silently. There was only a handful of outside spectators, drawn there by morbid curiosity, and a c»up'e of depressed-'ookhig pressmen of the average reporter type, who had come there on the offchanee of picking u>? the threads of a sensation. But they had abandoned that expectation long ago, and their trained minds told them that there wae nothing moro than a paragraph to be made out of the present inquiry. The report would go Bomew-here on the backpagree of the daily papers, and probably be summed up in half a dozen lines. And if tiiere wa* anything behind this, then Ellis wa s going to make it his biuinees to find out all about it.

The 'witness in the liiix droned on monotonously, giving his expert opinion on the cause of death, which apparently was one of ordinary drowning, thouga be di J not say so in those exact words, and, strangely enough, the coroner dkl not press him on the point. Then came tup. man who had found the body and a local police constable, who had a fesv words to say. Fills turned to Avory's daughter, and beckoned her to foHow him outside. "There is no occasion Fur you to stay liere any lunger." In- said. "You had better get back to Wa>pping, where 1 will «cc yon later on. You can stay down there till the fnr.eral is o\er, and if there is anything I ran do. you can count on m< , . 1 suppose your poor father left nothing behind him?*' "I don't think lip had a |.enny in the worl.l. sir," the girl at'A. "He naa very liberal with bis money, was father. I liplicxe tlwe are some' books and papers which lie wanted you to have. sir. But I don't know where I am going to get the money " "You can leave nil that to mc." Ellis said. 'Your fa I her and 1 wore very good friends, and if money is wanted 1 shall be only too glad to find it. Now, you get back to Wapping, and I will come and see you later on. You , had better write to your mistress and say you won't be back for a few days." Waving the girl's grateful thanks on one side. Kllis returned to the dismal little room where the inquiry was beins held, only to find that the doctor had iinished his evidence, and that the coronpr was beginning to address the jury. At that moment Professor Phillipson ■ros-e and interrupted the proceedings. "If you don't mind, sir," he said, "I should like to have an adjournment over this case. .\f you are aware. 1 represent the Home Office in certain cases of this sort, and if I think I see something unusual. I ask that the pro-

ueedings be postponed. 1 don't wish to suggest for a moment, sir, that there is anything unusual or any ulterior motive, but in my very cursory examination of the body it seemed to mc that I saw something not altogether nornml. A mere nothing, as it were, and not at all suggestive of foul play, but in the interests of humanity and science I should like ito have a further opportunity " "Oil. quite so, professor, quite so."' said the coroner with a readiness that set all Ellis' suspicions at work again. "1 i-an give my certificate for the burial, and I won't ask you to give a verdict now, for I may want to call upon you again. For the present, gentlemen, 1 wish you' good morning," Kllis followed the professor out into the open. "Excuse mc one moment, professor." he said. 'But I think 1 can lirlp you in this, matter. There art> circumstances of which you know nothing. Of course, 1 saw plainly enough that you wanted to carry this matter further without raising any suspicions. And I can help you very much, if you will confide in mc. I know that in some way poor Avory was foully done to death, and 1 know that his murder —for it is nothing else— was brought about by the very man 1 am trying to lay by the heels. ' And if you will be good enough to confide in mc, then I think before long I can put you in the way of getting at the bottom of a vast criminal conspiracy." "Indeed," the professor said, evidently duly impressed. "Then you think that Avory was not drowned?" "I am absolutely convinced of it, Dr. Phillipson." Phillipson walked along gravely for some moments, aa if considering the position, as presented to him by Kllis. "You are quite right, Mr. Ellis," he said gravely. "I can tell you that Avory was dead before he was put in the water." (To be continued daily.)