MYSTERY OF THE ASHES

Auckland Star, Volume LVIII, Issue 42, 19 February 1927, Page 36

MYSTERY OF THE ASHES

By ANTHONY WYNNE, Author of "The Mystery of the Evil Eye." J

I I SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS DC. BRUCE NETHERBY has been arrested I for the murder of his former fiancee. PATRICIA KEENE, mistress of The Ashes, in Northumberland, who, when he broke off his engagement to her, four years earlier, attempted to murder him. She has no-w disappeared. He is believed to have blackmailed the girl, and the police i suspect his present fiancee, JOAN POLLARD, who has disappeared, was his accomplice. His sister, MABEL NETHERBY, went to The Ashes after her brother's arrest, to try to find t'vidttiee to save him, and was murdered there by an unknown Intruder, who entered by a secret passage, leading to the seashore. This intruder, a woman, apparently, escaped by motor car and I aeroplane to London, giving the name of Patricia Keene. The police suspect that she is Joan Pollard, but L>H. EUSTACE HAILEY, who Is helping them, has found the missing necklace in the rooms of a MR. PELY, Bruce Netherby's friend. He has also found a pair of shoes, identical j in shape with footmarks discovered in | the secret passage at Tiie Ashes. CHAPTER IX. Mr. Pelv's face was Ihisiied, and an angry light gleamed in iiis eyes. "May I ask," he demanded, in rather i shrill tones, '"by what right you are ran- ! sacking my flat in this fashion?" He stood glaring at Dr. Hailey, who towered above him, a figure of menace, in spite of the impassivity of his features. The doctor adjusted his eyeglass. "By that right," he declared, quietly, "which. makes every citizen the friend and protector of law and order." As he spoke, he pointed an accusing finger at the diamond necklace which lay on the table before him. "You are aware, I presume," he added, "where that jewel came from, and who was its owner." Mr. Pely's manner changed suddenly. His narrow bearded face lost in a moment much of its aggressiveness. He lowered his eyes. '1 have no certain information on the subject," he declared, "but I can guess."' The doctor inclined his head. "I have the advantage of you, then." he remarked, "for. I happen to know. Miss Patricia Keene was wearing that necklace on the night on which she was murdered." He turned sharply, and pointed to the shoes in the open attache case on the floor. "What is more, her murderer, or his accomplice, was wearing shoe# of exactly that kind and shape." "Good Heavens!" Mr. Pely took a step back. He raised his thickly-gloved hand to his brow in a gesture of dismay. He looked, Dr. Hailey thought, a miserable and even pathetic figure in this crisis of his life. "You will see therefore that some— shall we say explanation is called for on your part?" 'Oh, I can explain it easily enough. . The young man sank down into one of his gaily caparisoned armchairs. "It is not the explanation, but the fact itself which is troubling me." He looked up with an expression in his face which betrayed the anxiety he was evidently experiencing. "The trouble is," he declared, "that that attache case wae given me by Bruce Netherby the day before his arrest. He asked me to keep it for him—--I suppose because he feared it might fall into the hands of the police." "I see." Dr 'T>? aile^' 8 Toice was rat her grim. ,* ■ Pe v r shifted his position uneasily You may not believe me," he said, but I did not open the case. What it might contain was, after all, no business of mine, and Netherby is my friend." lie broke off, and seemed to hesitate a moment Then he added, "Perhaps I did not , ish to know what was in the case." The doctor had been watching him narrowly, though Mr. Pely had chosen a position in the room in which he had the advantage of all the available shadow. "WJy should you feel that hesitation? You had no reason to suspect Netherby had you?" J The young man sighed. "I had no definite reason, but I knew j what sort of life my poor friend was leading. He leaned forward suddenly in his chair. "Netherby," he said, in' grave tones, "has been for many months in the hands of scoundrels." A Woman in Love. As he uttered these words, Mr. Pelv*s face assumed an expression of extreme ( bitterness; but the anxiety in his eyes was not quenched. Dr. Hailey experienced the curious sensation of believing without being convinced. It \pas obvious that the young man was powerfully moved. On the other hand, his manner suggested a very active desire to escape trom an embarrassing position. "What sort of scoundrels," the doctor asked, has Netherby been consorting with?" 6 "I prefer not to discuss it, if you don't mind." "I think you must discuss it." Mr. Pely jumped up from his chair. "Why should I? You are not a— policeman, are you? What right have you to come here and cross-question me?" His voice had risen shrilly, as he spoke. His eyes flashed angrily. Dr. Hailey raised his eyegless. "Surely," he said, "you will not refuse your help to those who are doing what they can to save your friend? It can't be thit you believe Bruce Netherby guilty of the crime with which he is charged ?" The young man's eyes fell. Rather reluctantly, as it seemed, ho resumed his seat. "I do believe him guilty," he said, in very low tones. There was a moment's silence in the room, which was broken only by the click of the doctor's snuffbox as he closed it after taking a pinch. Then Mr. Pely declared: "I will tell you what I know—on the understanding that I am speaking to a friend. Have I that assurance?" "I promised Netherby's sister that I would do all in my power to clear her brother's character. It is possible that what you know may bear an interpretation other than that which you suppose it to bear." The doctor's voice was more gentle even than usual. "I suppose so." Mr. Pely snatched at a cigarette box, which lay on a small table near him, and lit a cigarette. "The I fact is," he declared, "that Bruce Netherby's troubles began on the day when he first saw Joan Pollard. On that day, with his usual impetuousness, he gave his heart in pawn to a girl who has no heart of her own." The young man paused, and blew a long whiff of smoke from his lips.

"People," he continued, "who do not know Joau Pollard believe her to be what is called 'a sweet girl.' She assumed tliat attitude with wonderful success. Actually, she is a libertine." He pronounced the last . word explosively, as though it had-been borne suddenly to his lips on a gust of passion. Dr. Hailey watched him with increasing interest. "A libertine," he repeated, "who has ■ been using Bruce Nether-byV mad infatuation for her to strip him of every penny he possesses. She had, or has, another lover, an habitue of night clubs, and a scoundrel of the worst sort." Mr. Pely's tones thrilled. It was sufficiently obvious that the naughtiness which he alleged against this girl exercised a profound effect on him. "I do not know if you have met the type of woman before," he continued. "Probably, as a doctor, you have. They are jealous to the point of madness, and yet themselves utterly lacking in moral sense. The only man who really interests them is the man they cannot bend to their own purposes—especially to their passions. Bruce Netherby, though he is as weak as water, is a man of that kind. He is one of those queer characters—they are not so uncommon as you might think—who regard a murder as a lesser crime than yielding to what they call 'temptation." When a girl such as Joan Pollard meets and falls in love with a man iifee Bruce Netherby, she always betrays him, and always returns to him. The young man had worked Wmsclt i up to a high pitch of excitement. His J eyes glowed, and his thin hands clasped ' and unclasped in nervous gesture. Dr. Hailey had the inipresion—a strange impression it was—of an accused person attempting to justify himself—to explain to an uncomprehending world the drift of the hidden currents of his soul. He allowed his eyeglass to drop, and sighed. "I am to understand. then," he asked, "that you are on terms of very considerable intimacy with Miss Joan Pollard ?" The quiet words caused Mr. Pely to start. He seemed to rouse himself from a dream. "Of course not!" he cried. "What a ridiculous idea! I scarcely know the girl, and what I do know of her revolts me. I detest her. Listen!" He assumed a confidential attitude. "I dis'.#vered Joan Pollard's secret accidenIy a few nights ago. I dance some- i times at a club known as the 'Fuzzy I Wuzzy'—it's a fancy dress show of the ' rather more expensive kind. I had often noticed a girl there in the costume of a Sultana, with her face veiled up to the eyes. I happened to danre with her, and her veil got pulled down j in the crush. It was Joan Pollard. That was a few nights before the tra- | gedy at The Ashes. I told her I would ' tell Netherby. There was a shocking scene." Mr. Pely flung himself back in the chair, and closed his eyes. He repeated the word "shocking" several times. Dr. Hailey shrugged his shoulders. "Does dancing at the 'Fuzzy Wuzzy' Club, then," he queried coldly, "brand a girl with infamy?" "No—lt's the people she usually dances with " "Yourself, for example." The doctor aimed his blow shrewdly, and made ready to withstand the recoil which seemed inevitable; but, to his surprise, Mr. Pely merely waved his hand. "Have it any way you like." he murmured. "I don't care. What 1 was going to tell you was that I feel sure Joan Pollard has not denied herself the greatest passion of her life, dancing in 6uch company, merely because Bruce Netherby has been arrested. No doubt, she is living now with her other lover. If you want to find her, you can do so quite easily." "I thought you said that she was in love with Netherby?" "O yes, so she is." The far-away look returned to the young man's eyes. "Enough in love with him to help him kill Patricia Keene, or any other of his former sweethearts, but not enough in love to give up a night's amusement for his sake. Can you understand that?" The questioL came sharply. Dr. Hailey did not choose to answer it. The thought passed through his mind that this unpleasant young man had acquired a deep, almost a profound knowledge of the mental processes of a certain type, of woman. "The police," he said, "suspect this girl of the murder of Mabel Netherby, as well as of having played a part in that of Patricia Keene." "It is quite possible." "Why do you say that?* "Oh God, how dense you are! Haven't 1 been explaining to you for the past ten minutes that Joan Pollard is that kind of girl. She's in love with Bruce, deeply, cruelly, greedily in love with him. And he has never betrayed her love. He has only ruined himself because she drove him to ruin—drove him. Now his hands arc red with blood; be is a murderer, a thief. Obviously. she must support him in that strong course of action. Her love will force her to support him ." Dr. Hailey rose. "Your study of morbid psychology,** he declared, "appears to have been of a most extensive character. May I ask you for the address of th© 'Fuzzy Wuzzy* Club?" The Passionate Egoist. Dr. Hailey drove bask to Harley Street. His interview with Mr. Pely had confused, rather than cleared, his mind, but it had also shaken severely the idea which he had formed, that the young man had played an active part ! in the tragedies of The Ashes. Mr. Pely was certainly not the kind of person who risks his neck in other people's quarrels. Moreover, it was sufficiently obvious that his friendship for Netherby was of a very tepid order. He had not , hesitated to express bis opinion that , the young doctor was guilty, and he ] had gone out of hia way, far out of his ( way to traduce the character of Joan , Pollard. There had been something cat- ) like, something almost venomous, in his attitude to that girl. The idea that ( such an individual would display the daring 6hown by Mabel Netherby's j assassin, in order to remove traces of \ Netherby's guilt, was grotesque on the « face of it. Pely, on the contrary, f could be relied on not to move hand or j foot in any direction in which lay trouble p for himself. , That, indeed, had been abundantly j proved by his uneasiness about the r attache case. Dr. Hailey believed him. c when he said he had not opened it. Had i he known anything about its contents, c he would certainly have refused to s receive it. As it was he would probably lose no time in handing it over to the s police, and so relieve hmself of a r source of anxiety. He had as good as I announced that intention during the last few minutes of their interview. . I Before he sat down to dinner, the r doctor read carefully what the evening a papers had to say about the crime. The d

Mystery of the Ashes, he perceived, wag now the big sensation of the day. and almost every journal expounded some theory. The name of Joan Pollard was mentioned again and again, and it was made plain that both police and public believed her to be the_ mysterious aerial passenger from Newcastle to London. He pushed the papers away, and went to dress. Greatly as he disliked the idea of accepting any help from Pely, it was just possible that his information about the girl was trustworthy. Men of the Tely type, he had learned, frequently porscss a very extensive knowledge of women, especially of the wrong kind of women. Their own disordered emotions enable them to apprehend qualities which escape the cognisance of ordinary people. Pely had drawn, as he was compelled to allow, an intensely vivid picture of a passionate, abandoned girl, torn between .the best and the worst kinds of love of which she was capable, and a I way*. ! inevitably, prostituting the best to the [ worst. It' was scarcely credible that he had invented such a character, since | invention almost always lacks the courI age to be quite true to life. The Joan Pollard portrayed by this young man, was, as tlie doctor knew by bitter experi- | ence, entirely true. Such women exist to devastate men's lives both by their infidelities and their jealous hatreds and greeds. It was. moreover, certainly a just estimate which credited this girl with sufficient determination of character to commit crime, if her own immediate happiness or comfort was at stake. Joan Pollard, granting that her real nature corresponded to the picture afforded of it, would feel for Patricia Keene the most active loathing, and would know scarcely a scruple in persuading or compelling Bruce to extract money from that unhappy woman by threats. Nor was it probable that she would stick at murder, if the advantages offered by that course were sufficiently attractive. All passionate egoists are murderers at heart, though not .all of them, happily, possess the requisite strength of nerve. He made up his mind to visit the dance club, the address of which had been supplied to him bv Mr. Pely. If Joan Pollard were, indeed, daring enough to show herself in that place, in spite of the hue and cry against her, tie last shadow of doubt about her true character would be removed. Trapped. I The "Fuzzy-Wuzzy" Club proved to be, a very ordinary member of its cla;w. Dr. Jlailev came to it dressed as Sir John • talstall, and was admitted immediately I without question. He walked into the | dancing room, and took a seat at one o; j the small tables. | The room was full, and the atmosphere, in Consequence, hot and stuffy. The thought crossed his mind that "if this had not been a night club, none of its patrons would have tolerated that discomfort. It was difficult to discover what jov they obtained in exchange for their tolerance. They were of the usual type, arid he amused himself by classifying them. Ihe very young boys were, perhaps, the least objectionable, though the majority of them were evidently vicious enough. The older men aud the women, for the most part, aroused a feeling of melancholy. Their garish and bizarre costumes seemed merely to accentuate the bored expressions of their faces. He noticed a would-be gay cavalier about fifty, vvjth a pretty, loose-lipped girl on hi&aftri. The girl had the air of having made a conquest, but the man's eye.were remote. The same look was in "the eyes of most of the men, as if they were compelled to bring their memories with them, even to this place of forgetfulness. Man, the doctor reflected, is a domestic animal. The band played a foxtrot which the town was humming, a fatuous tune. Some of the girls sang the words of it to their unresponsive partners, quite in the manner of village girls with their swains. And some of the men, thus stimulated, showed the beginnings of a languid interest. Others, however, looked annoyed or frankly wearied. It was sufficiently clear that most of them were dancing because women willed that they shouhl dance, and because they did not care or dare to refuse these women. Dr. Hailey sighed as he helped himself to snuff. If only tho,, people who spoke about night clubs with bated breath could visit a few of them, how short-lived would be their enthusiasm or even horror. Why, the very walls of this place reeked with ennui, of dullness and fatuousness and stupidity. The least pretentious suburban "hop" was a triumph of gaiety by comparison; drunkards, honest drunkards, in a tavern knew a more exalted enjoyment. A young fellow sitting near him called a waiter, and ordered a cup of tea. He pronounced the word "tea" with careful hesitation. The waiter bowed. In a few minutes he came back bearing on a ! tray a silver pot of large dimensions, i and cups of that broad and pleasing pattern which was favoured by our grandmothers. Dr. Hailey saw the young man wink knowingly at his part-, ner as he paid the two Treasury notes 1 which the rascal demanded. He signed to the fellow, and ordered J some black coffee for himself. Then lie I moved his chair so as to command a ; clear view of tho doorway. And, at that moment, a tall girl in j the costume of a Sultana entered the i lance room. | The doctor raised his eyeglass and ] scrutinised her carefully. She was ob-1 piously pretty, and she carried herself i with grace. Moreover, in this company j if undistinguished naughtiness, she 'hone immediately as a nobler type, watched her move to one of the tables, ind observed that she had scarcclv ?eated herself before a young man joined her. She gave him her hand, in :he manner of an old friend. I He was a mere boy. fresh-fared "ather hondsome. but with eves already lebauched In the dim light of the! oom, the doctor found it hard to fol- j ow the play of his features, but he! ihought that the .lad was pleading some { :ase. The girl, however, shook her i lead emphatically. She rose to dance, i Her dancing was as graceful as her 1 arriage. Indeed, it was so graceful, so 1 Hjrfect, that many even of those bored >eople paused in thr "tea"' drinking to vatch it. Dr. Hailey began to undertand the fascination which this beautiul creature had exercised over Bruce Cetherby. Some women, he reflected, ►ossess the qualities of a great wine rhich. is able to intoxicate, without nflicting the least disturbance of the □ ind. As the couple passed him lie ! ould see tli.it the girl > eves were shin- j ng with excitement. Mr." Pely had not! \er»tated tne love of pleasure which, urged so strongly in her heart. When the dance ended !ie rose and trolled across to the table where the nan and girl had reseated themselves, le bowed low to the girl. "T apologise in advance," he said, "if have made a mistake, but it seems to ie that I recognise a friend. On that ssumption, I am going to ask for a ance."

I The girl's eyes brightened. He guessed , that her hidden lips were curling in a mocking smile. "Why, of course " Her partner opened his cigarette case and held it out to the doctor. WTien the latter declined to smoke he lit a cigarette himself. "It's your first visit to this shop, isirt it?" he asked languidly. "Yes." "Dull hole, don't you think?" Dr. Hailev shrugged his shoulders. The hoy rose and strolled away across the floor. He was dressed in some bizarre Mexican costume, which accentuated his air of robust good health. The girl sighed. "He's the most perfect dancer in London. I think," she said softly. ' "Next to yourself." "Ah!" She drew a deep breath, expressive, or so it seemed, of a whole world of reprei. "Dancing is my life." She closed her ryes for an instant, and then turned to him with a gay laugh. "It's so funny. I feel I ought to know you, and I don't. One is not supposed to ask questions here, but " She tapped the floor impatiently with the too of her slipper. He planced at her loot, and started, in spite of himself. "My dear Miss Pollard ~* It was as it he had struck her a blow. With a quick instinctive gesture she put her hands up to her face. "For Cod's sake," she whispered, "don't betray me here—l appeal to you as a man." She remained silent a "few minutes until the music started again; then she lifted troubled eyes to his face. "You are a detective?" she asked. "Not exactly." "Oli, please don't play with me— please." I am trying to help Brucc Xetherbv I to clear himself of the charge of mur- | der." His tones were verv low. j "A friend ? Oh, thank God." She glanced wildly about her. as if to assure herself that they were not bein<» overheard. Then she leaned toward* him, and put her hand on his arm. "I must talk to you—at once. We can get a cab and drive somewhere." She broke off, and uttered a sharp cry or fear. Her eyes had followed the direction of his eyes. Dr. Hai ley was.gazing with horrorstricken face as a series of small scranes on the white skin of her forearm, situated just beyond the place where the draperies she wore fell away from it. One 01 those scrapes resembled cxactlr he semi-circular piece of skin which he had discovered when examining Mabel Net nerby s dead bod v. (To be continued Saturday next,)