THAT LITTLE BLONDE GIRL

Auckland Star, Volume LVIII, Issue 246, 18 October 1927, Page 19

THAT LITTLE BLONDE GIRL

By RICHARD COYNE.

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'SYNOFSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. I

«BB RON. DAVID HBATHPIELD spends his first night at the Colonade, most > «tdnslT« of London's dunes dubs. Hs I has been overseas replenishing tbe < fatnfly fortunes in the Dominions. ' At tbs elnb, he is attracted by a beautiful orach-admired blonde girl. fcWWR DANELEIGH, who. at first, curtly V*! t0 a * n ™ w,tb nlm - though, later. •n« ennnges her mind. Blflne sterna nnaer the influence of a y*Q* KEEN, said to nc a»r guardian. WOBNT VTBATHBRS. a Mend, urgently J22" D»Jid agalnat Slflna, who seams attracted by him. bat does not encourage toe acquaintance, seemingly (or his sake. a rpung man of unknown Identity Is naraered. and David comes upon Elflne 5f* r . tbe scene of tbe crime. He drove net name, and neit morning sought the ntwipa pert to discover what grim revelation they would bring. He found that suaue was suspected, when INSPECTOR SUMMERLAND arrived on the S2sft "!? wn,,a " h « w " b**"* «*•»• JJtstloaed he left the house at her sagfjstion. and went over to a cafe, where he MJJM another young man. and the two ■egan a spirited conversation about the war. He proved to be J< mS D . A .MERSEY, a Journalist, and from pia--".* l r ">mmeriand Dnvld learns that ni« n * '." """Peoted. David in convinced SIR-!. '■« 'nnocent and unuappj. He minll*? 5.' en '» responsible, and determines to discover the truth. Been appears ■t* B »« uraft t ,n * friendship between Bavid r»JI5 U l na - Wljen ' one nl «". Elans Invites JtaK. i. to a Bt ™ n «fe West End gambling 22.7»v ha BOCS - •*•">»■« this resort Is for TSfi .J* younit men ' who ™ Elflne Is *?P* c t«d to attract to the place. She Men warned of a police raid, he refuses. «L 5! S way nome *• dlscoves Ronny ■I*i i e J? m " r dered In a telephone box, ■aa Is himself warned to keep away from JBlflae, as he will share his fate. He, »innl e \7 1 2. ke ; n ?other appointment with »inne which she breaks, and then he sees mv*J!ft a,n J n tl i? company of the mysterious Baron Been. i'a. ii i ?' CHAPTER Vl.—(Continued.) Traced. Weeks passed, and pride urged him to forget. Yet David might as hardly Jiave tried to lose his identity. Tha lights of London merely bored ■"». and there was little wonder. He ♦CL 601 "? back to ftnd »°n»anca among ggn that merely moaked Jte own

Inspector Summerland did not trouble him, and the mysteries of his early nights in town slipped gradually from the newspapers, baffling, but unsolved crimes. For a month he did not even see Joshua Mersey, and then one day, returning from n drive down to Brighton to call on a friend of his mother's, David ran into the journalist just outside Romano's. Joshua waved a welcoming hand from among the Strand through the crowd to where David's car was crawling along. He sprang upon the dashboard and leaned over the door, smiling broadly. "Drive round the next corner, old chap," he advised. "They'll let you park her there, and then let us have a cocktail together." Romano's was quiet at this early hour of the evening, and the two sipped their drink with leisurely . appreciation. Joshua, as usual, waa busy with a new case. He seemed surprised when David could restrain his re-awakened curiosity no longer, and drew the conversation to the subject of the murder in Baron Reen's Hampstead estate. "I'm afraid the end of that story hasn't even been invented yet," Joshua aaid thoughtfully. "Summerland is abroad. Didn't you know?" David shook his head. "When did he go?" "A month ago. Let's see," and Joshua scratched the tip of his chin, "it was the 14th. Yes, he went quite suddenly." David's attempt to veil his astonishment and dismay was futile. Joshua could have seen a garden through a brick wall, and he leaned forward, his cigarette drooping from pursed lips. "You remember the date, eh? It was on that day that Elfi-ie Daneleigh went abroad. That," he added meaningly, "is. why friend went." Once again the old Area were revived in David—his anxieties for the girl he had striven in vain to forget, his fears for her safety. And now another picture waa built up in his mind, that of the intrepid, impassive agent of Scotland Yard still dogging the footsteps of this girl, who, in her turn, was—he no longer could doubt that in his heart— tha .victim of the mystery and intrigue 98m&&& M QSm If! jmnjaak

Where was Elflne? In some Bohemian resort, forced by the inscrutable Keen to pander to the attentions of worthless scions of wealth and position! Long since David had realised there could be no other explanation than that Reen was in touch with those who were quietly and cunningly fleecing these reckless spenders of money. All the urgings of his pride collapsed before these reawakened fears for her, and knew that he never could forget. But pride dies hardly. "Where is Summerland now?" he asked, casually. Joshua Bhrugged his slim shoulders. "Summerland is a queer dog when he'a away on a job. But I wouldn't be surprised to see him turn up, any day, in London, with," grimly, "his prisoners." There was no mistaking whom he meant. The two parted shortly afterwards, and it was not until next evening that David, in the hope of learning more —to have, at least, some news of Elflne—telephoned Mersey's chambers to invite him round for the evening. Jacob's answer waa strange. "Mr. Mersey is not at home, sir. I think he has gone to Scotland. If you would leave your name—?" David did so, and Jacobs became shamelessly candid. "Ah, that makes a difference. Mr. Mersey has gone to Paris, sir. That is the truth." David smiled as he put down the receiver. Joshua had anticipated his asking, then? So the journalist had joined the inspector, perhaps on the Continent ? This opened a new train of. thought. What did it mean? That events had taken a startling course, and that Elflne was in danger, or under graver suspicion ? Still David resisted the impulse to journey to France, in the hope that they might meet. Where was hi; pride ? Should he attempt to follow her that he might receive further humiliation at her hands? Yet his confidence in his power to resist the urge grew less. And then, one morning, came a mysterious telegram from Paris. "Forgive me. I could not send be-fore-but for the long shadows.—Elfine." The message sent the blood rushing to his temples. "Great Scott," he mused, bitterly, "she's been wanting to send this message for days—weeks, and hasn't known 'my address. And then she found what I it was, and wired. She's aouy—Blflne'a

He stood for a long time before the big windows of his sitting-room, gazing down at the traffic. If only she could be near him, at this moment! Forgive ? Why It was no coincidence, as he then believed it to be, that Jelks opened the door and brought in a second telegram. And this was from Joshua, and briefer still: "Come Paris via Dieppe.—Mersey." With characteristic alertness, Joshua relied on his taking the first available train—which he would meet. Passport and bag were gathered with incredible swiftness. At seven that night he was a passenger aboard the Dieppe express when it drew into the Gare du Nord. CHAPTER VII. Paris. The great Paris terminus was thronged with a motley crowd, that spring evening of David's arrival; and its members ranged from hotel touts to stout, matronly women, anxiously waiting the arrival of husbands returning from England. David had not been to Paris for eight years, but the Gare du Nord seemed quite as dirty as when he had seen it before. He cheerfully elbowed his way through the swaying throng, suffered the unapologetic buffeting of porters, and eventually reached the barriers. It began to dawn upon him that Joshua Mersey was rather a long time in making known his presence. David searched the refreshment and waiting rooms as vainly as he searched the platforms, and then breathlessly condemned himself for having searched at all. "Mersey can't have come," he said, irritably. "Of course, he'd have been watching the train like a cat watching a mouse if he'd been in the station at. all. And now—" He glanced helplessly up and down the platform. What had happened to prevent his friend from meeting him ? And Joshua had not even wired his address. There was only one thing to be done. David selected a hotel —the Italia, in the Rue do Rivoli—and ordered dinner. He refused to hurry over the- meal, though he was worried about Joshua. Mersey did not break engagements for the fun of the thing. Something had happened, something serious. But what? What else than something connected with Elflae? For whs* o*h»r reason *WM #Wfog &SS #*M«d him at »«!'

That night David began a systematic search of the hotels where his friend was likely to be staying. It was a vain search. For once Joshua was obscure; indeed, he was invisible. David racked his brains to recall some remark of Joshua's, apropbs of Paris, which might give him a clue as to the other'B whereabouts. David could recall remarks of Joshua's on every other subject under the sun; but not about Paris. It was nearly eleven o'clock when, disconsolate, yet not knowing with whom to be angry, David returned to his hotel. And Joshua Mersey was waiting for him. He was idly turning the pages of "La Vie," but he seemed to sense David's presence even before he saw him, and jumped to his feet. "At last!" he cried, as he grasped David's hand. "My dear fellow, what on earth has brought you to Paris?" David was staggered. Who would not have been? To be sent for by! this man who now innocently asked him why he had come! "Joshua Mersey brought me here," said David, gulping. "Are you quite mad, Mersey, or merely joking, my friend ?" "Joking? I never do," 6aid Joshua. "And as certainly, my dear chap, I never sent for you." He held out his hand. "Show me the cable." David found it and handd i; over in silence. Joshua shook his bead. "That's what you'd call an economical wire, Heathfield," he grinned, and David thrust it back into his pocket. "It is a perfect character sketch of you, Mersey," he said, tersely, and Joshua laughed as he piloted him into the lounge and took it for granted that David would drink the same kind of wine as himself. It was as they sank back into a comfortable divan couch that David remembered. "How did you know I was in Paris, Joshua?" he asked, watching the other through narrowed eyes, and the reporter laughed shamelessly. "Jacobß told me, my dear fellow." "Jacobs? Your man-servant?" "The same. The finest shadow in town." David flushed. "Yon have had him watch mc, eh?" His tone became a little dangerous. "I assure the honour was quite unsuspected. And the reason?" Joshua laid a penitent hand on his arm. "Old man," he said, seriously, "I beg you to forgive me. But it was necessary, because—well," myetgrjoußh^

David smiled tersely. "An answer that is delightful for its vagueness. No, Mersey," he added, without heat, "I think you owe me a little better explanation than that." Joshua nodded. "I have just decided that you had better know, too. Briefly, I'm willing to bet a tenner Keen sent that cable. I suppose," cautiously, "you didn't receive one from Elfine*?" v David bit his lips, and something chilled in his heart. But only momentarily. " but for the long shadows " He remembered, shook his head, and told a lie. "No. But why should Reen be interested in me?" Josh.ua shrugged. "Only, my dear fellow, that you're disgustingly rich; richer, perhaps, than any of his present sheep. And he's in need of money. After that raid at Devois'—" David leaned forward. "Monsieur Devois' private gambling hell doesn't belong to—Reen?" "Reen is the proprietor. Devois his servant. Reen paid his servant's fine." Joshua announced. "At the moment, the Baron finds it politic to operate here, in France. Next week he moves on to Monte Carlo, and so does Summerland. So may I, if things work out, but," and his hand tightened on David's arm, "this is my confidence. You came because you thought I could give you news of Miss Daneleigh, eh? Still stubborn, Heathfield? I've come from Summerland, and we've hatched a plan. It's our opinion, since coming to Paris, old man, that if you wanted to get the beautiful Elfine to do anything in particular for you, it wouldn't be much trouble." David smiled, bitterly, though it was impossible to resent Joshua's manner or bluntness when he said these things. Quite shamelessly, Joshua went on. "You told Summerland and myself, once, that we were both wrong in suspecting the girl, old fellow. Do you still stand or fall by—that?" David nodded, sternly. "Certainly." "Would you accept a sporting offer? To prove it and clear her in Summerland's eyes ? An offer that would be a ! just and right test of the girl?" David was silent for a moment, but his final answer was characteristic. "Summerland suspects her; I know that, Mersey. And you say that I can help you to clear her name in his eyes? iAnd in the eyes of the police V* J t *es*.&m>\h . . . ;

"Accept or decline, and 111 tell you." David accepted, because his confidence had been challenged and ha longed for just such an opportunity of clearing the girl whom he had come to Paris to see and, if possible, help. No matter at what cost to himself, her message could never have been written by the same hands that had penned the one purporting to come from Joshua. No, if faith was worth having, then it was worth standing by. And if his faith in Elfine were justified, he could only be rendering her a service—and no small one—by making this promise. Joshua seemed immensely relieved, and held out his hand. "11l leave Summerland to tell you the rest, old chap." * But where was Elfine ? Joshua seemed embarrased by this question. Did David particularly want to see her to-night? The very way in which he said that brought the reply to David's lips that he did. "All tight, 0 Joshua said. "It's on your own head, my son." And when they went out together to the taxi the porter had summonded, the clock was striking midnight and Joshua ordered the man to drive to Montmartre.

Montmartre? What was Elfino doing there, that they might find her at midnight, even in Paris? A dance? A supper? A perhaps. Yea, it was a cabaret, but hardly ifli the circumstances that David expected* (To be continued daily.)