THE THIRD DEGREE.

Auckland Star, Volume LVI, Issue 183, 5 August 1925, Page 22

THE THIRD DEGREE.

BY R. A. J. WALLING. Author of "The Fatal Glove," etc.

SYNOPSIS. John BelHvefr, a rising young lawyer, leaves hie office gaily to meet the girl he is in love with —Phyllis Lanson—the niece and ward of the head of his firm. Phyllis is as charming as ever, but to his dismay and indignation she tells him that her uncle has turned against him, and will give no reason. Belliver is amazed, because hitherto he had been encouraged and kindly treated by Lanson. His anger is increased by the appearance of a Mr. Baird, a rich merchant, who ignores Belliver and walks down the street with Phyllis, leaving him to console himself at his club, where he hears news of a strike among Baird's workmen. The next day is a Sunday, and Belliver attends the parish church in the hope of seeing Phyllis. He is disappointed at not being able to speak to her, and exasperated nt the sight of Baird. He wanders down to the quay, and finds a crowd of men round Buiru s sheds. Angry and" rebellious, lie joins in the arguments,, and impulsively makes a speech running down Baird. Belliver becomes the hero of the hour, and is carried by the men shoulder high. Next day he is calmer, and has an interview with Lanson, who tells him a report of the affair is in the newspapers. Lanson tries to extract from him a promise not to see Phyllis again. Belliver refuses, and after being shown a letter rushes out of the t'fflce, saying: "I'll end it once and for all!" On the steps he meets Phyllis, and gets her to promise to meet him that night in the garden of Baird's house, where she is dining. CHAPTER in.—(Continued.) Mrs. Baird went quickly down the stairs, Phyllis at her heels. The_sei yant led the way through the long corridor. As they reached the library Mr. Baird came out at the door of his room with a box of cigars in his hand. "Hullo!" eaid he, surprised to see the group in front of him. "What was that noise, John?" "I don't know, sir. It seemed to come from the billiard room." "Eh?" said Mr. Bdird, hurrying forward. "I left Mr. Lanson there a minute ago, playing billiards, while I fetched the cigars." The servant stood aside to let him pass and then followed. Mrs. Baird and-Phyllis brought up the rear. Mr. Baird pushed open the door of the billiard room and entered. "My God!" he cried, staggering back and pulling the door behind him. "Go backl Go back! Take her away!" He pointed to Phyllis. "Oh, what is it, Simeon?" said Mrs. Baird. Her husband gasped, but with a sudden effort, mastered himself. "Don't be alarmed. Don't make a fuss. I am afraid, Miss Lanson, your uncle has been taken ill. Will you go back to the drawing room with Mrs. .Baird? John and I will attend to him and send for the doctor." The girl had become pale, but she set her teeth. "No, Mr. Baird. If he'e ill I must go to him. Let mc pass." She took a step toward the door. "You can't go in there," said Mr. Baird sternly. "If you please, Miss Lanson " He pleaded with her. A long ring on the bell startled them all. ■ Mr. Baird left the door to look up the corridor. "See what that is, John, he ordered. "Ah!" Phyllis had stepped past him and pushed open the door of the billiard room. . She took two paces forward, screamed, tottered, and fell full length on the floor. What Mrs. Baird saw when she looked into the room wag this: — The padded benches around the walls were in deep shadow. The green-shaded electric lights threw a bright glow upon the billiard table' in the middle, and shone down upon the figure of a man in his. shirt sleeves, sprawled over the green cloth with hie arms outstretched and in one hand a cue. It was as though he.;had fallen asleep and collapsed in the.act of making a stroke. But all around hie he.ad the green cloth was" stained scarlet, "and where the balls had run through the scarlet they had themselves taken its colour and left thin tracks of scarlet' before they came to test. ' ' Her husband stood holding the handle of the door and looking down upon the prostrate, girl. Mrs. Baird would have stepped into the • room to her, but he pushed her back. "No!" he said. "Leave her to mc." Mr. Baifd picked up Phyllis and carried her into the corridor. He was supporting her • there when fresh voices sounded, and he saw the.servant coming towards him. Behind him walked a police officer with his hand on the collar of a young man. As they came into the light Mr. Baird exclaimed again:— / { 'Good God! Go back!" The.servant stopped. The policeman hesitated. ... "John," said' Mr. Baird, "take Miss Lanson; get her away upstairs. You go with him," he said to his wife. "Constable, come this way, and bring that young man with-you." ' Mr. Baird went into his own room, holding the door open for the constable and his prisoner. He locked the door. "Now, take your hand off him, constable," he said. "Why have you brought, him here?" . ' "Well, sir, I was passing your- gate just now when I heard a shot. I came in and walked, round the garden to the back, and I found him standing on the bank looking in at the'window of the billiard room, where I saw a man lying across the table/apparently shot. The young gentleman had this in his hand." The constable held up a revolver. "Good heavens, Belliver! What does it mean?" asked Mr. Baird. Mr. John Belliver, who had 'shaken his coat into place when the policeman relaxed his hold, looked at Mr.. Baird without saying a word. His hat was still on his head, but his curly hair was somewhat disordered,' and he ■ was extremely- pa\e. All the blood seemed to have left his cheeks, and their ruddy colour was turned to .a-dull yellow. There was silence for a moment or two. Mr. Bellivver still stared at Mr. Baird as though 'his eyes would i start frpm his,head. ' She merchant looked down and saw that he "was still holding the box Qf.cigars,he-had been carrying to the billiard room when he 'met his wife in the corridor. He put it down on the table. " "Constable," he said, "I am going to ring for a doctor. Leave Mr. Belliver here and go to the billiard room and see whether anything can be done for Mr. Lanson." "Good God, sir!" cried the policeman, Is it Mr. Lanson?" • As he spoke he gave a glance of silent in the middle of the room. Mr Baird nodded. The officer went out. to n; B 4 M £ P«M tetep^ne call through l°v£nt£^ re^ 6e,^tin ß h ™ because he lived near. An accident, he feaid an accident with firearms, which might be senous. He replaced the telephone re«eiver arnLsat for a moment looking at Mr. John Belliver. who had nfver

spoken a word. Then Mr. Baird stepped to the French window which gave on to a lawn at the side of the house, and threw it wide open. Next he left the room and closed and locked the door behind him. When he had gone Mr. John Belliver remained standing quite still and silent. It was as though, since he entered that room, he had been turned into stone. Only his eyes moved. They had followed the proceedings of Mr. Baird. Now they turned to the open window. It was by this time quite dark outside. The fresh breeze of a summer night just stirred the curtains. The light from the room brightened the edge of the grass immediately in front of the window; beyond that an oblong of perfect blackness. Three paces separated Mr. John Belliver from the open window. He did not take them. He stood where Mr. Baird had left him. He heard a ring, he heard the thud of footsteps pass in the corridor and a sound of voices. Then for a ■ few minutes everything was still again. When Mr. Baird unlocked tlfe door and entered, followed by the constable and the doctor, he had not changed his position. "Yes," the doctor was. saying in a restrained voice, "quite dead. A terrible wound. It must -have killed him instantly." The constable exclaimed "Ah!" in a voice of such surprise that they all turned to look at him. He walked to the open window and pulled the two leaves together. He regarded Mr. John Belliver curiously. "With your permission, sir," he said to Mr. Baird, "I will now do my duty and arrest this young. gentleman for the murder of Mr. Lanson." Mr. Baird said nothing, but sat heavily down in his chair at - the table. The doctor took a step or two away from the young man. "Will you allow mc to telephone to the station for assistance, sir?" the constable asked. Mr. Baird nodded without looking up. Before the man could step to the instrument they all started as a woman's shriek rang through the house. Mr. Baird went to the door, opened it, and listened. "It's poor Miss Lanson," he said. "Will you go and Bee her, doctor?" Aβ Mr. John Belliyer watched the doctor out of the room there was a look of agony in his eyes. . ' CHAPTER IV. The Silent Prisoner. At ten o'clock that night Fewings was seated in hie room at the office of "The Westport Journal," hard at work. His editor had left him in charge. The strike of Baird and Co.'s men was becoming serious enough to make great vigilance necessary. There were threats of violence, and Fewings had several men in attendance upon the result of a big demonstration at West Quay. He was momentarily expecting reports on this matter. There was a sharp rap on the door, and a man in shirt sleeves entered excitedly. "What is it J" said Fewinge, looking up from the proofs he was reading. "Have they run amok?" "The strikers?" said • the ' newcomer, "No; there's something more important than that. I've just had a report in that a shocking murder has taken place at Northtown. The men are all out dealing with the strike. I have only a youngster upstairs at this moment. I thought perhaps I'd better go myself." "Yes, by all means," said Fewings. "What sort of murder? The usual, or anything special?" * The man in shirt-sleeves hesitated. "You know what silly rumours get about," he stammered. "Eh, Mason? What's the matter with you? Don't be mysterious, man!" exclaimed Fewings. "Well, it's Humoured that the man who has been killed is Mr.—Mr. Lanson." When at last the name came out Fewings leapt out of his chair. "What!" he cried, leaning across the table, with horror in his face. "I hardly liked to tell you so bluntly, knowing that you are a friend of Mr. Lanson," said his colleague. "Whatf Dear,,old Lanson? Who could have wanted to murder Lanson? It must be a false rumour," said Fewings. "I daresay—l hope it is. We must get to work on it." "Any details?" Fewings asked. "Any report of an arrest?" ■ > "Yes," said Mason, looking troubled and hesitating again. " "Well, , man? Who is it? What is it? Out with it!" ' "The report is," he replied, "that the police have arrested young Belliver." Fewings recoiled as if he had, received a blow between'the eyes, and collapsed in his seat.. "I'm sorry," said Mason. "It's a shock for< you, both of them being friends of yours.' But what could I do? I had to tell you." \ ' .:. . Fewings Tubbed hie forehead'hard and shook himself together. ;•■' "Right you are, Mason. Of course you . can't help it. -News is • the first consideration. Let mc think a minute. It's awkward that the old man is away to-night." . . He sat pondering for a minute or two as if <to compel the professional journalist to conquer 'the- personal feelings of Mr. Fewings. Then he said: "If you don't mind; Mason, I will leave you he,re and take charge of this myself. There are_ some delicate inquiries to be made;' and perhaps I can make them better than any of'the other men. First/wait-a second." He toiok., up Jiis. telephone" and asked for "Northtown* 47:" Was that Mr. Lanson's house? "Yes." came, in : a woman's noice. Was Miss 'Lanson at home? No; Miss-Lanson was out, but expected soon. Where was -she? She was dining with Mr. and Mrs. Baird at Highhousee. Where was Mr. ■ Lanson? He was also dining with the Bairds. The speaker, was a servant. Had she received any message from Mr. Lanson or. Miss Lanson during the evening? Not ft word. ■• Fewing's put down the telephone. "Nothing known at the house," he said to Mason. "What about the police ?" "We've inquired. They've ■ had a report from the Northtown station,, but vatnie. TheVre waiting for particulars." "Very well, Mason. Take on , here., I'll go and see about it myself." ' Fewings \vent first to the Central ■Police Station. It was a quarter past j tep. A crowd of curious people, hung {. about the doorway. He pushed his way in,'and was admitted to the charge room. "Yes," the inspector said: fflt

was apparently true that Mr. Lanson had been shot dead. It happened in the billiard-room at Mr. Baird's." "And the report about an arrest?" asked Fewings. "Yes, an arrest has been made. The prisoner is in the chief constable's private office. We are waiting for him. He has been telephoned for." "Who is it?" Fewings spoke nervously, and the inspector looked at him with a compassionate glance. "I'm sorry to tell you, Mr. Fewinge, that it's the last person in the world anybody would have thought of. It's young Mr.' "Belliver." "Ah!" The exclamation was jerked out as though somebody had struck him. He felt the same sensation as when his colleague had first told him the news. . Jack BelliverJ The brilliant, handsome, lovable Jack Belliver, who was his closest friend in Westport, whose career he watched and nursed with such care, whose passionate impetuosity amused him, whose goodness and sincerity he would have guaranteed against the world—it was Jack Belliver who was charged, with this frightful crime! And the -fine old gentleman who was now lying dead at Highhouse was Jack Belliver'a patron and benefactor—a delightful, mild, polished old gentleman who waa not known to have an enemy. "It can't be true!" cried Fewings, almost challenging the inspector. The officer was sympathetic. "It's a terrible thing, air. I know nothing about it except the charge. But it. looks black." "Can I see him " asked Fewinga. "I daren't give you permission on my own authority. The chief will be here in a minute or two. He knows how thick you are with Mr. Belliver. Doubtlees —ah, here he is!" (To be continued daily.)