THE LADY AT THE DOOR

Auckland Star, Volume LIX, Issue 171, 21 July 1928, Page 14 (Supplement)

THE LADY AT THE DOOR

BY EDGAR WALLACE

CHAPTER XIII. j _ Just beycm! the place where lie was ; found the road dips steeply between i J 1 '®' 1 banks. It is known as Coles Holi low, and at its deepest part the cutting ; is crossed by a single trsck bridge .which connects two portions of the farm through whiel thy road runs. I he doad farmer and his machine had ■ been removed when Reeder and the chief of Scotland Yard arrived on the spot. ! any kind had been received ; of the lorry, but the local police who had been fo lowing its tracks had made two discoveries. Apparently going through the cutting the front wheels of the trolley had collided with the side, for there wa.s a deep scoop in the clavey soil which the impact had hollowed out. It almost appears,' 7 said Simpson, who had been put in charge of the case. that the trolley swerved here to avoid the farmer's car. There are his wheel tracks, and you notice they were wobbling from side to side. Probably the man was already dying."' "Have you traced the trollev tracks from here?' asked Reeder. Simpson nodded and .called a sergeant of the Essex Constabulurv, who hud charted the tracks. "They seem to have turned up north towards Beacontree," he said. ".\s a matter of fact, a policeman at Beacontree said he saw a larjfe trolley come | out of the mist and pass him, but that had a tiit on it, and was going towards London. It was an army trolley, too, and was driven, by a soldier. 1 ' Mr. Reeder had lit a cigarette, and was holding the flaming match in his hand, staring at it solemnly. '"Hear me!" he said, and dropped the match and watched it extinguish. And then he began what seemed to be a foolish search of the ground, striking match after match. '"Isn't there light enough for you, Mr. Reeder?" asked Simpson irritably. The detective straightened his back and smiled. Only for a second was he amused, and then his long face went longer than ever. "Poor fellow!" he said softly. '"Poor fellow!"' "Who are you talking about?" demanded Simpson, but Mr. Reeder did not reply. Instead, he pointed up to the bridge, in the centre of which was an old and rusted water wagon, the type which certain English municipalities still use. He climbed lip to the bank and examined the iron tank, opened the hatches and groped inside, l:g!it:ng matches to aid his examiua- ! tion. j "Is it empty?"' asked Simpson, j "L am afraid it is," said Mr. Reeder, I and inspected the worn hose leading j from its iron spindles. He descended ! the cutting more melancholy than ever. | "Cave you thought how easy it is to disguise an ordinary army lorry?" he asked. "A tilt, 1 think the sergeant said, and on its way to London."' "Do you think that was the gold van?" ' Mr. Reeder nodded. "I'm certain," he Baid. "Where was it attacked?" 3ir. Keeder pointed to the mark of the wheels on the side of the road. "Ihere," he said simply, and Simpson growled impatiently. | "Stuff! Nobody heard a shot fired, I and 3'ou don't think our people would go down without a light, do you? They could have held their own against live J times their number, and no crowd has been seen on this road!" Mr. Reeder nodded. "Nevertheless, this is where the con* voy was attacked and • overcome," be said. "I think you ought to look for the trolley with the tilt, and get on to your Beacontree man and get a closer description of* the maeliinc he saw." In a quarter of an hour the police car brought them to the little Essex village, and the policeman who had seen the wagon was interviewed. It was a few minutes before he went off duty, he said. There was a thick mist at the time and he heard the rumble of the lory wheels before it came into sight. He described it as a typical army wagon. So far as he could tell it was grey, and had a black tilt with "W.D." and a bread arrow painted on the side. "W.D." standing for War Department, the broad arrow being the sign of Government. He I saw one soldier driving and another sitting by his, side. Tho back of the tilt was laced up, and he could not see into the interior. The soldier as he passed had waved hi.4 hand in greeting, and the policeman had thought no more about the matter until the robbery of the gold convoy was reported. "Yes, sir," lie said, ip answer to Reeder's inquiry, 'T think it'was loaded. It went very heavily on the road. We often get these trolleys coming up from Shoeburyness." Simpson had put through a telephone inquiry to the Barking police, who had seen the military wagon. But army convoys were no unusual sight in the region of the docks. Either that or one similar was seen entering the Blackwall Tunnel, but the Greenwich police, on the south side of the river, had failed to identify it, and from thereon all trace of the lorry was lost. "We're probably chasing a shadow anyway," said Simpson. "If your theory " is right, Reeder—it can't be right! They couldn't have caught these men of ours so unprepared that someboyd didn't shoot, and there's no sign of shooting." "There was no shooting," said Mr. Reeder, shaking* his head. "Then where are the men?" asked Simpson., "Dead," said Mr. Reeder quietly. It was at Scotland Yard, in the presence of an incredulous and horrified Commissioner, that Mr. J. G. Reeder reconstructed the crime. "Flack is a chemist, T think I impressed it upon you. Did you notice, Simpson, on the bridge, across the cutting, was an old water cart? I think you have since learnt that it does not belong to the farmer who owns the land, and that he has never seen it before. It may be possible to discover where that was purchased. It all probability you will find that it was bought a few days ago at the sa.le of some municipal stores. I noticed in the "Times" there was an advertisement of such a sale. "Do you realise how easy it would be not only to store under pressure, but to make, in that tank, large quantities of a deadly gas, one important element of which is carbon monoxide? Suppose this, or, as it may prove, a more deadly gas, has been so stored, do you realise how simple a matter it would be on a still, breathless morning to throw a big hose over the bridge and fill the hollow with the gas? That is, I am sure, what hap- ' pened. Whatever else was used, there : h still carbon monoxide in the cutting, '■ for w hen I dropped a match it wp» imme-

diately extinguished, and every match I 3 burnt near the ground went out. If the t car had run right through and climbed the other slope of the cutting, the driver t and the men inside the trolley might ; have escaped death. As it was, rendered t momentarily unconscious, the driver turned his wheel and ran into the bank, stopping the trolley. They were probably [ dead before Flack and his associate, whoever it was. jumped down, wearing gas • masks, lifted the driver back into the 1 trolley and drove on."' ' '"And the farmer " begun the 1 Commissioner. '"His death probably occurred some time after the trolley had passed. He ! also descended into that death hollow, but the si»eed at which his car was going carried him up nearer the cutting.''' He rose and' stretched himself wearily. "Xow I think I will go and interview Miss Belman and set her mind at rest," he said. "Did you send her to the hotel as [ asked you. Mr. Simpson?" Simson stared at him in blank astonishment. "Miss Belman?" he said. "I haven't seen Miss Belman!" CHAPTER XIV. Her head in a whirl. Margaret Belman had stepped into the cab that was waiting at the door of Larmes Keep. The door was immediately slammed behind her, and the cab moved off. She saw her companion. He had shrunk into a corner of the landau, and greeted her with a little embarrassed grin. He did not speak until the cab was some distance from the house. "My name's Gray,'" he said. ''Mr. Boeder hadn't a chance of introducing me. Sergeant Gray, C.1.D." "Mr. Gray, what does all this mean 2 This instrument, I am to get "" ' Qray coughed. He knew nothing about the instrument, he explained, but his instructions were to put her into a car that would be waiting at the foot of the hill road. ''Mr. Reederwants you to go up by car. You didn't see Brill anywhere, did you ?" "Brill?'' she frowned. "Who is Brill?" He explained that there had been two officers inside the grounds, himself and the man he had mentioned. •'But what is happening? Is there anything wrong ut Larmes Keep?" she a?ked. She had no need to ask the question. That look in J. G. Reeder's eyes had told her that something indeed was very wrong. "I don't know, miss." said Gray, diplomatically. "All I know is that the chief inspector is down here with a dozen men, ami that looks like business. I suppose Mr. Reeder wants to get you out of it." She didn't "suppose"—she knew, and her heart beat a little quicker. What was the mystery of Larmes Keep? Had all this to do with the disappearance of Ravini? She tried hard to think calmly and logically, but her thoughts were out of control. The station fl\- stopped at the foot of the hill and Gray jumiwd out. A little ahead of him she saw the tail light of a car drawn up by the side of the roadway. "You've got the letter, miss? The car will take you straight to Scotland Yard, and Mr. Simpson will look after you." He followed her to the car and held open the door for her, and stood in the roadway watching till the tail light disappeared round a bend of the road. It was a big, cosy landaulette. and Margaret made herself comfortable in the corner, pulled the rug over her knees, and settled down to the two hours' journey. The air was a little close; not only was there no glass to the windows, but the shutters, were immovable. Something scratched her knuckle. She felt along the frame of the window. Screws recently inserted. It was a splinter of the raw wood which had cut her. With growing uneasiness she felt for the inside handle of the door, but there was none. A search of the second door •re\ealed a like state of affairs. Her movements must have attracted the attention of the driver, for the glass panel was pushed back, and a harsh voice greeted her. You can sit down and keep quiet. This isn't Mr. Reeder's car.; I've sent 'it home."' The voice went into a chuckle that made her blood run cold. "You're coining with me ... to see life. Reeder's going to weep tears of blood. You know me, eh ... Reeder knows me. I wanted to get him tonight. But you'll do, my dear." Suddenly the glass panel was shut to. He turned off the main road and t was following a secondary, his object Ueing, she gtiessed, to avoid the big towns and villages en route. She. put out her hand and felt the wall of the car. It was an all-weather body, with a leather back. If she had a knife she might cut — She gasped as a thought struck her, and, reaching up, felt the metal fastening that kept the leather hood attached. Exerting all her strength she thrust back the flat hook, and bracing her feet against the front of the machine, dragged at the leather hood. A rush of cold air came in as the hood began slowly to collapse. The closed car was •now an open car. She could afford to lose no time. The car was making thirty miles an hour, but she must take the risk of injury. Scrambling over the back of the hood, she gripped tight at the edge and let herself drop into the roadway. Although she turned a complete somersault, she escaped injury in some miraculous fashion, and coming to her feet, cold with fear and trembling in every limb, she looked round for a way of escape. The hedge on her left was high and impenetrable. On her right was a low wooden fence, and over this she climbed as he heard the squeak f brakes anl saw the car come to a standstill. Even as she fled, she was puzzled to know what kind of land she was on. It was not cultivated. - it was more like common land, for there was springy down beneath her feet, and clumps of gorse bushes sent out their spiny fingers to clutch at her dress as she flew past. She thought she heard the man hailing her, but fled on in the darkness. Somewhere near at hand was the sea. She eodld smell the fragrance of the waves as they rolled up some unseen beach. She listened, almost deafened by the beating of her own heart. "Where are vou? Come back, you fool." The voice was near at hand. Xot a dozen yards away she saw a black figure moving and had all her work to stifle the scream that rose in her throat. She crouched down, behind * bush, and'

waited, and then to her horror she saw a beam of light spring from the darkness. He had an electric lamp and was fanning it across the ground. Detection was inevitable, and, springing to her feet, she ran, doubling from, side to side in the hope of outwitting her pursuer. Xow she found the ground sloping under her feet, and that gave her additional speed. She had need of it, for he saw her against the sky-line and came on after her, a babbling, shrieking fury of a man. And now capture seemed inevitable. She made one wild leap to escape his outstretched hands and her feet suddenly ti od on notniiig - . Before she could recover, she was falling, falling. Sh? stiuck a bush, and the siiock aiid pain of the impact almost made her I fairt. She wars falling down a steep slope and her wild hands clutched tree and sand and ajid then, just u sli£ had given up all hope, sue found | Jierse'f rolling over and over on a level plateau and came to rent with one le<r hanging uver a sheer drop of feet. Happily, it was dark. Margaret Belman did not realise how near to death she had been till the dawn i came. Below her wm the sea and a slither of yellow sand. She was looking into a little bay that held no human dwelling so far ats she could see. This was not astonishing, for the beach was only approachable from the water. Somewhere on the other side of the northern bluff, she guessed, was Siltbury. Benea th her a tsheer fall over the chalky lace c.; the cliff; above her a terribly steep s upe, but one which might be negotiated, she thought, hopefully. She had lost one shoe in her fall, and after a little search found this, so near to the edge of the cliff that she grew dizzy as she stooped to pick it up. The plateau was about .30 yards long and was in the shape of a half-moon, and was almost entirely covered with gorse bushes. Ihe fact that she found dozens of nests was sufficient proof that this spot was not visited even by the most daring of cliff climbers. She*understood now the significance of the low rail on the side of the road, which evidently followed the sea coast westwards for some miltes. How far was she from Larmes Keep? she wondered—until the absurdity of considering such a matter occurred to her. How near was she to 'Starvation and death was a more present problem. Her task was to escape from the plateau. There was a chance taat the might be observed from the sea. but it was a remote one. The few pleasure boats that went out from Siltbury did uot go westward; the fishing fleet invariably tacked south. Lying face downwards, she looked over the edge, in the vain hope that she would find an easy descent, but none was visible. She was hungry, but. though she searched tne nests, there were uo eyys to bo found. *1 here was nothing to be done but to make a complete exploration of the plateau. Westward it yielded nothing, but on the eastern side she discovered a scrub-covered slope which apparently led to yet another plateau, not so broad as the one she was on.

To slide down was an easy matter; to check herself so that she did not go beyond the plateau offered greater difficulty. With infinite labour she broke off. two stout ■ branches of a thick furze bush, and, using these to t check her progress, she began to shuffle down, feet first. She could move slowly enough when the face of the declivity was composed of sand or loam, or when there were friendly bushes to hold, but there were broad stretches of weather-worn rock to slide across, and on these the stick made no impression and her velocity increased at an alarming rate. And then, to her horror, sue discovered that ehe was not keeping direction; that, try as she did, she was slipping to the left of the plateau, and though she strove desperately to move further to the right she made no progress. The bushes that littered the npper slope were more infrequent here. There was indication of a recent landslide, which might continue down to the sea level or might end abruptly and disastrously over the edge of some steep cliff. Slipping, sometimes on her back, sometimes sideways, sometimes on her face, she felt her momentum increase with every yard she covered. The ends of the sticks were frayed to feathery splinters, and already the desired plateau was above her. Turning her head, she saw the white face of it dropping to the unseen deeps. Now she kr.ew the worst. The slope twisted round a huge rock and dropped at an acute angle into the eea. Almost before she could realise the danger ahead, she was slipping—faster and I faster through the loam and sand, the j centre of a new landslide she had created. Bouideie of a terrifying size accompanied her—-be escaped being crushed under one by a hair's breadth. And then without warning she was shot into the air as from a catapult. She"had a swift vision of tumbling green below, and in another second the water had closed over her and she was striking out with all her strength. It seemed almost au eternity before she came to the surface. Fortunately she was a good swimmer, and, looking round, she saw that the yellow beach was les3 than fifty yards away. But it was fifty yards against a falling tide, and she was utterly exhausted when she dragged herself ashore and fell on the sand. She ached from head to foot: her j hands and limbs were lacerated. She felt that her body was one huge bruise. As she lay recovering her breath she heard one comforting sound—the splash of falling water. Half-way down the cliff-face was a spring, and, staggering across the beach, she drank eagerly from her cupped hands. She was parched; her throat was so dry that she could hardly articulate. Hunger she might bear, but thirst was unendurable. She might remain .alive for days, supposing she were not discovered before that time. There was now 110 need for her to make a long reconnaisanee of the beach; the way of escape lay open to her. A water-hollowed tunnel led through the bluff and showed her yet another beach beyond. Siltbury was not in sight. She had no idea how- far she was from that desirable habitation of human people,

and did not trouble to think. After she had satisfied her thirst she took off her shoes and stockings and made for the tunneL The second bay was larger and the beach langor. There were, she found, small masses of rock jutting far into the sea, and that had to be negotiated with bare feet. The beach was longer than she had thought. She had expected to find a cliff path, and this hope was strengthened when she discovered the rotting hull of a boat drawn high and dry on the beach. It was, she judged, about eight o'clock in the morning. She had started wet through, but the warm September sun dried her rags—as rags they were. She had all the senastions of a shipwrecked mariner on a desert island, and after a while the dullness and absence of all kinds of human society began to get on her nervea. Before she reached the end of - the beach she saw that ihe only way into the next, bay was 'by swimming to where the rocky barrier was low enough to be climbed. She could with great comfort to herself have discarded what remained of her clothes, but beyond these rocks might lie civilisation, and, tying her wet shoes and stockings together, she made fast her shoes, and, knotting them about her waist, waded into the sea and swam steadily, looking for a likely place to land. This she found—a step-shaped pyramid of rocks that looked easier to negotiate than in fact they were. By dint of hard climbing she came to the summit. llie beach here was shorter, the cliff considerably higher. Across the shoulder of rock running to the sea she saw the white houses rf Silt-bury, and the sight gave her courage. Descending from the rocky ridge was even more difficult than climbing, and she was grateful when at last she sat upon a flat ledge and dangled her bruised feet in the water. Swimming back to the land taxed her strength to the full. It was nearly an hour before her feet touched lirm sand and she staggered up the beach. Here she rested, until the pangs of hunger drove her towards the last visible obstacle. There was one which was not visible. After a-quarter of an hour's walk she found her way barred by a deep-sea river which ran under the overhung cliff. She had seen this place before. Where was it? And then she remembered, with an exclamation. This was'the cave that Olga had told her about—the cave that ran under Larmes Keep. Shading her eyes, she looked up. Yes; there was the little landslide; part of the wall that had been carried away projected from a heap of rubble on the cliff-side. Suddenly Margaret saw something which made her breath come faster. On the edge of tie deep channel which the water had cut in the sand was the print of a boot—a large, square-toed boot with a rubber heel. It had been recently made. She looked farther along the channel and saw another. It led to the mouth of the cave. On either side of the rugged encrance was a billow of firm by the. retreating waters, and again she saw the footprint. A visitor to the cave, perhaps, she thought. Presently

he would come out and she v«qU „ plain her plight, though her left little need for explanation. She waited, but there was no gini the man. Stooping, she tried to into its dark depths. Perhaps if were inside out of the light she eonu see better. She walked gingerly Ik. the sand ledge ; but as yet her eyea accustomed to the darkness, revetid nothing. She took another step, passed nt« the entrance of the cave, and then, ftn somewhere behind, a bare arm was finny round her shoulder, big hand cfoepf over her mouth. In terror she EtnaafcJ madly, and the man held her in a»rh, of iron and then her senses left she sank limply into his arms. (To be continued Saturday next.)