Heart of Gold.

Auckland Star, Volume LIX, Issue 214, 10 September 1928, Page 16

Heart of Gold.

By C. M. MATHESON Author of " NUT IN THE HUSK," etc. etc.

CHAPTER 111. With the morning Doreen awoke For. a few moments she lay collecting her thoughts, remembered what had happened: overnight, remembered that her father would- renew his inquiries, that she would have to tell him something to satisfy him, remembered there should be a letter from Madame Sabina. She got up and dressed. Her mother was in the kitchen when she went down. Her father had been sent for at six o'clock to drive Lord Scotley. "His lordship seemed to be in a great hurry," said Mrs. Mallory. "Are you all right this morning, Doreen?" "Oh, yes, mother." . "I suppose you and Jim had a row last night. Now don't you get quarelling with him. He's a good fellow and he loves you, but he's a man and won't stand a lot of nonsense. If you've quarrelled with him you make it up right away. There's a letter on the dresser for you." ' Doreen pounced on the letter and carried it out in the passage to read. It was indeed from Madame Sabina, and told her, in two formal lines, to call that morning at nine o'clock and ask for Miss Murray. Doreen went jubilantly back to the kitchenl After breakfast she set off with a light heart. After all, Conrad Murray bad done what he promised. He had helped her. She felt very grateful to him. Perhaps she had better meet him tonight and let . him take her out again. It was the least she could do. And she would be on her guard this time; he should not kiss her again. And Jimwell, perhaps .she had better tell Jim all about Sabina's, and how Conrad Murray had got her reinstated there. Then she could make things right with Jim too, and everyone would be happy. In this frame of mind she reached Holies Street and entered Madame Sabina's salon. It was ju#t nine o'clock; probably Miss Murray would now be arriving. Already the place was open, fresh, perfumed, prepared for early clients, and a little knot of girls gossiped at the far end. Doreen passed through to the office at the side and knocked on the white door. "Come in." She entered. "I had a note from Madame telling me to call this morning at nine o'clock and ask for Miss Murray," she said. The young person at the big desk said tersely, ; "It is not likely Miss Murray will be I here to-day." "Not here to-day ?" Doreen echoed blankly. "Why not?" Miss Hesketh was only too pleased to jrive the information. The whole place was humming with it already, and she herself had told at least three of the girls. "She is not likely to be here," she said again. "You see, her brother, her only brother, was found murdered last night in a taxi." Doreen hardly remembered what happened during the next few hour*. The shock of thin news of the death of Conrad Murray completely unnerved Iter. She said to Miss Hesketh, stupidly, "Oh! Oh 1 That can't be true. I was with him last night " "With him?" Miss Hesketh incredulously repeated. "With Mise Murray's brother?" "Yes: I was in a taxi with him." "You were?" "Yea. I was." "What time was this?" "Oh, quite late. I had been out with him. He was all right when I left him." "Xyell," said the other, "this is a very queer thing. Fancy you being with him! I had better tell Madame what you say." "But why? What has Madame- " "You little fool! Don't you see if you were with him last night —in the taxi— you will have to tell the police what yon know." "Oh, no.. Tell the police? I couldn't do tih&t. I don't know anything about it." "You'd better tell them so then." She took up the telephone receiver. Doreen heard her send a call to Madame's room on the third floor of the house. "Yea. Madame. Doreen Mallory is here. -She-tells me ehe. was with Miss Mallory's brother last night—rin the taxi With him. Y«s£Yes. Of course I Will keep her here —You will come down? Yes, Madame." Mfea Hesketh hung up the receiver. "You're to! wait," she eaid. "Madame wants to aee you." "Madame told me to: call thia morning," Doreen said. "I had a note." "I know nothing about that." Doreen did not' seem to realise the importance of the statement she had made to the young person at the desk. Each; was consumed with impatience; Miss; Hesketh watched Doreen with frank curiosity. Doreen was very still, Jdst: in thought. Besides the shock of the hews she had just heard, she was also suffering great anxiety- concerning her. .lost position in Sabina's workroom. Surely she was to be reinstated! What wotild her parents say if, after all, Miadaine would have nothing more io do with her ? Her musings were brought to a conclusion by the abrupt appearance of Madame herself, a petite woman, beautifully made-up and coiffeured, and dressed in a fashionable-gown.. She'said agitatedly to Miss Hesketh, "What is this? What hare you told m«? You say this girl- " "Yes, Madame," Miss Hesketh said volubly, "this girl, Doreen Mallory, was iq; th« taxi last night with Mr. Murray. She lour told me herself " '•You were in the taxi-with him!" cried Madame. "My! My!" She threw up her hafidb. "This is a terrible story! 5W were in; tba taxi with him ?" "Yes, Madame," Doreen answered. "When he was murdered? You were in the. taxi —5". . ' "i... "Oh, no, no, . madame," interrupted Miss Hesketh. "You were not there Whenthe • crime was committed?" she demanded of-Doreen. - • "Oh, no," Doreen answered. ; »■ "And you ; came here to tell us you were in the taxi with him?" continued Madame. "No,'Madame, I didn't come for that at aji.- I never knew, he'd been killed. He was all right, last night. - I came in answer,to this .note," and'die produced the note she" had received that morning. "What is this?" inquired* Madame-"lt-is to tch me to call. Madame, 1 am sorry I annoyed you by coming late WO'k. I won't be late again—l d ° bade,

"Take you back! But the police——" Madame turned helplessly to Miss Hesketh. "Will it be good for us or bad for us to have this girl here? The advertisement——•" "You can't have her here, Madame, if the police want her." "True. Tr-rue!" "But Madame, Mr. Murray asked ala sister to take me back, and I had this note " "He asked his sister to take you back ? What has she to do with the arrangement ? I am Madame Sabina—she has no control," Madame raged jealously. ■ "No, I think I had better ring up the police," said Miss Hesketh. "They ought to hear all about this. We don't want to get into trouble by not telling them "Ring them up now," commanded Madame. "But they shall not coihe here. Not through my salon—no. My clients will be embarrassed ■" t "I'll ask them to come through the side door. I can explain the reason. This girl had better wait in the box room." "That is so," Madame agreed. "In the box room. You go . there •at once," she said to Doreen, "and wait there." "Someone had better go with her, I think." "Yes, yes, you are right." Madame opened the door. "Miss Cuthbertson, come here." "Yes, Madame." The tall young showroom girl glided across the salon, i "This girl, take her to the box room and stay there with her. You understand? Till the police come for her- . ■" "Oh, no, no," Doreen cried out. "Oh, no, Madame! . Please, please, do not let the police come " "You have to tell them your story," •aid the helpful young woman at the pay desk. "If you have done no wrong you have nothing to fear." "Nothing! Nothing!" averred Madame. "Go! Take her aay. My clients will come into the salon —the police will come here. It is not good for us." . Seated in the box room amongst the piles of cardboard hat boxes, Doreen wondered miserably what on earth was to happen to her. She was certainly not going to be reinstated in her lost position. The police—the police were coming for her. She cast frightened glances at the mannequin who with a bored air lounged on guard. There was no comfort to be got from her. Between the showroom and the workroom girls a gulf ; was fixed. No communication wag possible outside the necessities of business. Then Miss Hesketh entered with a young police officer. "This girl, who was one of our employees, but was dismissed a few days ago——" "How many days?" asked the polit'2man, taking out hiß notebook.. "Two." "What name ?" "Doreen Mallory." "Go on." "Says she was in the taxi with Mr. Conrad Murray, who was afterwards found dead in the cab." Imperturbably the policeman wrote this down in his book. "Anything else." "No."

"You," he said to Doreen, "will have to come to the station with me." "Oh, no, no" "You needn't be afraid," he said, noting the child's youth, beauty and distress. "Just come along and tell lis all you know." "But I don't know anything." "All right, then. You come and tell us at the station that you don't kribw anything." " "But I can't go," Doreen sobbed. ' "I can't." "A cab?" suggested Miss Hesket'i. "We don't want a fuss." "Right. Come along, Miss." He took Doreen's arm, lifted her to her feet, led her away. "If you come willing," he said to her,. "I won't have to hold you." Doreen wiped away hqr tears. She tried to pull herself together and walked with him more bravely to the rank. In the cab she . was silent. The policeman did not address her until they reached the station, and she once more hung back, her fears again overwhelming her. In the.station a. man in uniform at a desk elicited all she knew of the affair— which was, it seemed, very little. "Now look here" the inspector said in a fatherly manner to the shrinking girl, "if you've done no harm you've nothing to fear. There'll be an inquest to-morrow at half-past two on this Mi". Conrad Murray and you'll be called as a witness. All you got to do is tell the Coroner the truth, where you went with the deceased, what time you him, was he sober, did he meet anybody while you was with him, did he have any quarrel with anybody, and so oft. Just what you may be asked. That's all you got to do." Doreen nodded. "You understand?" He said slowly to his subordinate, "This witness is valuable. You go back with her to the address she's given and see her father. Tell him he must look after her and bring, her to the inquest to-morrow." : "You aren't going to , send him home with me?" Doreen pleaded. What would her. mother say if she went h6me at this, hour —in the middle of the morning when she should be at work—and With! a policeman ? Oh, no, no, she could: not have that. ' But there was no getting rid of this police officer. He stfick to hen He I escorted her back to the flat over -the garage. Once arrived there Doreen fled up the stairs and threw herself into her j mother's arms, sobbing as if her heart j woukl break. "What? What's all this? Doreeri! What is it, my dear? What is it?"/ "There's a policeman—" she sobbed. "Nothing for her to be so scared about," said the cheerful young police officer in the doorway. "What's all this between you, and my girl-?'* ?. demanded the mother with hostility. • ' "Nothing to be so frightened about," he maintained. While Doreen sobbed he explained matters. Mrs. Mallory heard him out, hfer hand regularly patting and stroking Doreen's quivering shoulders. "I never heard of such a thing," she said at last. "My Doreen mixed, up in audi a business as this! Whatever witf her' father' say?" . Left alone with her daughter,. shit alternately scolded, wondered, and administered comfort. "iiO&t your job at Madame's! , What-; ever next? Out with a young chap. Out playing all day yesterday! And now all this trouble ! Whatever *iil| your father say? Whatever will ha

say ?—There! There! ■* Don't take on so. Well have to see what can be done—" Wonderment give placet© curiosity. Gradually she drew every detail of; the story from her sobbing daughter. - "But, Doreen, what abouir Jim? Did he know .what you wera dQWgT* Oh, I don't' know—be saw us;" "He saw you f "Yes, when -we came out of the Hilarity. He was. : in the street. He looked so black at us." .. "Ah! Did he though! , Did you see him again after that?" "No. We drove away in ; the taxi. 1 haven't seen him since then." Mrs. Mallory fell silent. / Doreen said no more. From time to time she sobbed —and yet she was less wretched. Her mother now knew the story; her mother would help her. Presently, when her father came in, she listened while-Mrs. Mallory told him what had happened. She stood there, before the stove,- her hands on her hips, and related every detail, occasionally gesturing with A flung-out palm, towards her daughter. "I never did hear the like of this," said Tom Mallory, » slowly. "You've been a proper bad girl, Doreen. First, losing your job, and then talking to this young man, and thenpretending to be at work and going with him again. I'd never have believed it of you—" "I wouldn't have gone with him if he hadn't said he could get me back to Madame's. That's ,all I went for," Doreen sobbed in protest. • "And -Tnii fold you, so" you say, not to go v* '» him.". ! Doreen wept bitterly. ' "The less said about 'Jim Lacy the better," said Mrs. Mallory presently. "But it wasn't his fault," said her husband. "Maybe not. r And maybe," she said Blowly, "maybe he knows more about what's happened than any of us—than ! anybody does. Yes* maybe, that's true." "You surely don't ; mean—" She threw up her hands. "I'm not going to say anything I told Doreen. Jim's a good chap, but he's a man. He won't stand by and see her— playing about with another chap. And he di I see her last night—" ' "He saw me "before," - Doreen broke in. "He was waiting for me when I came home night before last. He saw me with Mr. Murray then. He went on at me—" "There! What did I say?" cried Mrs. Mallory. Tom Mallory stared at her. i "But you can't mean—" he said again. "Oh, I don't know," she said. "I don't know what to think. This is'an awful business. There's Doreen got to jgo to the inquest to-morrow and give evidence .That's enough by itdelf to ; put up with. ' An awful thing, my child mixed up in this. Doreen, don't you say anything about Jim at the inquest | —you be careful." "No, no. Don't go saying that. Let her say what she knows. That's the on'«" wav thatV safe—" "If she just tells what she knows it doesn't look to me very safe for Jim," Mrs. Mallory said. (To be continued daily.)