Beads of Silence

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 300, 19 December 1929, Page 30

Beads of Silence

By L. BAMBURG.

SYNOPSIS. SEPTIMUS MARCH, private detective, finds the dead body of SIR RICHARD WESTON in a newly-due grave. Sir Richard has been stabbed in the back with an Indian dagger belonging DR. REX BRENT, the lover of EVELYN. WESTON, Sir Richard's daughter . Other suspects of the crime are ANTHONY DARFORD, Sir Richard's ward, AYLMER DENISTON, Sir Richard's solicitor, and EDDHA DAS, Sir Kichard's Indian servant.

CHAPTER XII. Septimus March retraced his steps down the High Street, his mind, it must he frankly confessed, more a whirl than ever. It seemed to him as if he got further and further away from the root of the mystery the deeper he probed. On every hand fresh coils surrounded the cause and the perpetrator of the murder. Turning abruptly the corner of the main street, March literally, bumped into Whistling Tom." ' This. was not to be wondered at, for if March was deep in his thoughts that gentleman was equally deep in one of those stories which, filled his brain to the exclusion of all else. , "It'looks as if we shan't get a happy ending, if I knock, you over, Tom," said March' smilingly, and the man gave ah equally cheerful assent. "Which,is the quickest way up to the Hall now?" he inquired. Tom lifted his head. • "To the Hall. Cut across those fields, sir, past a small cottage, which is mine," he added proudly, "and then back-along the lane which brings you to the back gates of the Hall. Then if you walk right round you'll find the big door." . "Thanks,, my friend,", said .March. "When I get back to town I think I can find you a few more of those stories that you like." "I'd be main pleased, too, sir, and if you was 'to see Miss Evelyn, if she isn't too much of an upset, p'raps you'd remind her, too. When she was down in the surgery last Thursday she was

that unhappy, too, but she promised to send me down the rest of a serial she takes in, 'Woman's Love Affairs'" it's called ■"

But March scarcely heard the last words. The "fast Thrusday" had hit home. "Last Thursday, Tom; are you sure it was on that day?" .

"Certain sure," was the reply.. "I know because the paper comes out on a Thursday, and it was while she was waiting for the doctor "

"Oh, I see! In the waiting room, it was?"

"No, sir," -said Tom patiently. "It was in the surgery. Doctor had not come in yet, he had had an early call, and Miss Evelyn waited for him. Thank you,- sir, and good day to ye."

With , anotner salute and a cheery flashing smile "Whistling Tom" went on his way, leaving Septimus March standing stock still in the village street.

Here was yet another knot. Had Dr. Brent lied after all when he said that no one ever came into his surgery without his knowledge? Or had. Miss Weston got in without the knowledge of the housekeeper, and if so, how?

How also had she opened that cupboard without a key, and found the medium for,that hypodermic syringe?

The memory of the doctor's words that the case had been copied from that of the squire occurred to him. Yes, perhaps tbat was the secret —the cases made the same by the same firm, and with the same lock. Then of course the same key would fit it. And the key —the key belonging to Sir Richard himself, how haxl she obtained that on the Thursday when it was on the old gentleman's watch chain?

Stop, though, was it? Here was a question that coUld only be answered by looking once more on that still figure. If the key were there on the chain, which would not have been touched, then it must have been the doctor's key that was used, and this brought a lie home again. n Almost wearily March ploughed his way along, past the little cottage which Tom had said was his habitation. It appeared to be bcrupulously neat from the outside, so that Tom must; certainly have some feminine assistance.

Following the directions March speedily rounded the Hall domains, past the kitchen grounds which abutted on the windows through which cook had seen that negro's face, and on -thence to the .main doors, through which Packham again led him. "No need to announce me, Packham," said March as they entered the Hall. /'I want to poke about for myself, and first of all I want the library. If a message comes from the inn, let me know!"

In the library March found Budha Das, a, saddened tragic little figure enough, only toO-'glad to talk in his own beloved language to the stranger who had in his possession" two already of the precious amulets. t

March made the first move by examining .the case. Similar, in every respect to that of the doctor, its glass and steel netting, windows revealed some wonderful specimens of Indian carving. Knives, daggers, statuettes, miniatures all lay on : .their gold plush shelves, each shelf edged with gold lace, a fact that added still further significance to the scrap of gold lace.in March's pocket-book. Could anyone else have got into the library ? he asked.

: No—of 'this was sure. himself always kept guard during the day, 'working here at translations during the night, and sleeping in a ■little room just off the passage, beyond, which no .man could pass wjthout his knowing it. - March, however, bethought him of the staricase leading down to the cellars. Budha led him" to the back of the wall against which stood the representation of the Benares Temple.' There, half hidden by; golden tissue'draperies, was a little door, but securely locked and bolted, too. There was obviously no means of secret entry and exit, and here therefore seemed another impasse. There was nothing more to be learned in this quarter. , ~ March departed first to seek the room to which the dead body of the master had been taken. A, brief swift glance showed that .the-key was missing so that whether it had been picked up by Miss Weston or snatched away by the murderer again remained to be solved. March drew up the sheet over the still figure and closing the door softly welit down the staircase. Outside the door- of the smaUVdrawiag-todin he halted, *for

1 from it came sounds of voices and March recognised the shrill almost agonised tones of Evelyn Weston, mingled with the smooth deep tones of Aylmer Deniston. Though lojith to descend to. the role of eavesdropper again, March rolled himself into the depths of the friendly portiere which draped the door and listened with bated breath to the pregnant sentences which-.fell on his ears.

"I tell you I will never marry you, Mr. Deniston," she said angrily. "I don't care whether my father has left me rich or poor. If the former, you can't hurt me, and if the latter, well I still shan't need you. You force me to speak plainly."

"You still depend on Rex Brent," sneered Deniston. "Well, don't be too sure that he will be free to marry you, my dear, rich or poor."

"What do you mean?" the girl panted, and March could imagine the look of fright in her eyes quite as well as if he had been on the other side of the door.

"What I say," was the smooth reply. "I happened to be on the other side of the hedge on Thursday afternoon "when you slipped out to meet your lover directly the old man had gone. Of course, I don't know what you had been telling him previous to my arrival on the scene, but I was in time to hear him say, 'By God, Evelyn, I'll kill the old devil yet before I lose you.'"

Miss Weston gave vent to a little moan. "It was just his temper," she cried. "Rex would no more have harmed father than —than he would me.' But father had been so insulting that it was enough to rouse any man's temper."

"That's as may be," was the reply. "But I rather imagine our twelve good men and true will want some proof as to just what Mr. Rex did do when .he met Sir Richard coming along the cemetery lane, which he. must have done. Indeed, you know I am speaking the truth, and you have suspected him yourself or you wouldn't have buried that Indian knife in the earth beneath the drawing room window outside, on Monday night." , ) So that was why he didn't want that "lift," was it, thought March. The bully had gone back, following the girl, and watched her subsequent movements. But how had she got that, knife? "I found it, I tell you, I found it " cried Evelyn. "Found it, yes, and where? I can tell you: in your precious doctor's coat, which I saw hanging in the hall on the following day, and which he must have left behind." "How do you know it was in the pocket?" demanded the girl, with sudden spirit flaring up.

"One to the girl," thought March, as she asked the very question that he himself would have chosen.

Bat Aylmer Deniston was again fully prepared, for he said crisply, "Because I saw you withdraw it, my dear girl! Now be sensible and give . in. . I don't care whether you have the estate or not "

Here was news to bath. It was evident that the lawyer knew just which will would be enforced and that Anthony Darford would be master of Croydale Hall. v

"I love you, and if you will promise to marry me, I will save your precious doctor, despite this evidence which will hang him, otherwise, as high as Haman."

"Marry—marry you ?" Her voice struck through with its note of scorn. "Rex is innocent, and he will explain it if necessary. I wouldn't marry you if you threatened us both or promised to be silent. I hate you, I hate you! Why, I'd rather marry Anthony under force of threats than you."

"Don't trouble yourself, young lady, Anthony is already as deep in as you yourself. Well, I'll say no more, but all three of you can look out for yourselves,"

March ' swiftly disentangled himself from the folds of the curtain and -shot up the big staircase and round' the bend of the passage, just, as the door was flung open and Aylmer Deniston, flushed with anger and defeat, strode from the room and made his own way out down the drive. March hesitated. The sound of the girl's low sobbing came on.his ears painfully as he descended the staircase. Bravely had she stood up against the man who threatened' her very life, but now her'courage had ebbed. She was left to face a future, possibly a penniless one—for take money from Anthony she would never do.

Her lover was lost to her, for though she had boldly dared Denieton to do his worst, yet there was no getting away from the fact that- the lawyer's accusation was true. She had found the dagger that very morning in " the mackintosh which he had left behind him. earlier in the week. As he stood in the hall Packham, silent' of foot and sombre of mien, came from the servants' quarters.

March turned swiftly,

"No signs of Mr. Darford being back yet?" he asked. "I want to have a chat in that laboratory of his, and it's locked."

"Yes, sir, he always locks it after he comes out. Never lets anybody in there," said Packham. "But I don't think you'll see him to-day, because he went up to London by the first'train this morning, and I doubt whether he'll come back at all to-night now there's no one to go for him." . , -

This astounding statement left March nonplussed. Packham was more than likely to be right. The young scamp would not be likely to worry whether he got back or not now that the only man who could have made him return- was lying dead, murdered, in the room above, and whether by his connivance or the doctor's dagger, yet remained to be discovered.

With a little nod of understanding to the butler, March took his leave, walking slowly down the drive out through the big wrought iron gates into the "lane once more. (To be continued daily.)