Beads of Silence

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 303, 23 December 1929, Page 22

Beads of Silence

By L. BAMBURG.

CHAPTER XV. Next morning, when March awoke, Jim the boot boy came to his room. "Miss Clara's come back," he announced proudly, "an' the old man's as quiet as a lamb." "He is, is lie?" commented March. "She must have come back pretty late then, didn't she?" "Last train," said Jim, "an , 1 know 'cos I 'ad to nip down and let 'or in because the gov-nor 'ad gone to bed. She went straight into 'im, too, and they didn't 'arf 'ave a pow-wow. This morning butter wouldn't melt in '!s mouth. A deep one is Miss Clara an' no mistake." March was inclined to agree with Jim. Whatever she had rushed up to London to get, the thing which she had implored Darford to obtain for her, the thing that the dead man had held, according to her lover, she had brought something back with her sufficient to placate her angry parent. That was self-evident, and that everything was all right between them was quite apparent, as March discovered when he descended the stairs into the bar parlour for his breakfast and Thorpe passed him on his way to the farm beyond. The man, unlike his former surly demeanour, gave the London man a civil nod and vouchsafed a "good mornin' to ye, sir." • : "So your girl's back, I hear," said March, bent on seeing the man's humour for himself. -"Yes, come back lost night," was the reply. "I toid you ehe knew which side her bread's buttered, the hussy. Main glad I was, too. Don't often let me tamper get the best of me, but I was afraid things had gone too far. They might 'ave been worse, yes, indeed." And with that cryptic utterance the man passed on and through the little gate leading to the outhouses. "Now just wha.t might he mean by that?" asked Septimus. "Might 'ave been worse." Indeed, knowing what he had seen in ,thp pink and .white room above, it was hard to know what worse could overhang the impulsive, highspirited girl. '■•"He finished'hid. breakfast, finding small appetite in the'food,/fresh and tenipting though it proved. Then there came the chug-chug of a motor car, and down the lane and into the yard in front of the inn drove a car in which March saw the ruddy face and portly figure of his colleague at the Yard. file jumped lip, hurrying out to meet the welcome visitor. * "At last, Mac!" he cried heartily. ".Thought you'd given me the, go-by altogether. Come along in." f March led the way back to his own table, and dispatched Jim, who was still hanging round eager to help the "tecs," as he called them, for more coffee and fresh eggs. someone else down with me, by the way;" Mcßride added, aS he attacked his meal with zest. "After I got your letters I went down to the Home Office and found the Chief had already given instructions. It seems the £idia Office have asked if special inquiries may be made for that precious String of Amulets of yours." .'"The Flowers of Sleep," muraiured March. : "Yes, and if the family are inclined to" part they can practically name their own price so long as it is allowed to be given back again and stop native risings •which are. being organised. I understand t,h,ere is a special mission of priests, and how they got to know we were on the track of that thing beats me, but at any rate you were right when you said we had been seen at King's Cross on Monday. They've called off their men on condition that our Government helps them regain it, so you have a clear hand fjCpm that quarter." 'JJffWelly tile's one blessing!" ejaculated jfarch, "though how we are going to regain it beats me, as. you'H say when 1 "/tell you all the events of these two • days. But first of all, who it that you have brought down to plague me?" .''Mcßride grinned. "Dr. Trescowen," he said, "the Home Office pathologist, and he's going to track down that poison idea you mentioned in your letter." x -"Oh, splendid!" exclaimed March, his face clearing of the- unusual frown. "The vfery man I would have chosen. Where is"he, by the way—not outside, surely?" He glanced ■■through the little window. >''No, indeed, I left him at the station xinder Thompson's charge, while we sent up to the Hall to have the body removed to the mortuary, so that he can begin operations straight away." -"Nice old row Darford kicked Up, too, so Thompson says; he went himself." f, "Darford! Oh, so he came back last night, too; caino back by the last train With Miss Clara, I suppose," said March. •'The superintendent, unaware of all the preceding events, was naturally mystified. - ;..' . • "Last train,' no, indeed! Apparently, from what Thompson says, he came back quite in-the early hours by aeroplane" . „.;, ', "Aeroplane, eh? Came back to find his boots had walked off, eh? I wonder, I wonder ——" ' " But just .what March.did;wonder was lost upon "the superintendent, 'for, having finished his meal, he was deep in investigating the contents of a dispatch case", which he had unlocked while March wae speaking. . "I think this- will interest you,- my .boy," ihe said as he first produced a little box, opened it and placed it beneath thc.gazQ of the. other man.. !' Glittering in the sunlight, the conijents resolved themeelves into half-a-dozen carved gems, like those already in hia pocket book. "That makes eight altogether," said the Hiiperiiitendcnt, with natural pride ■hi hm triumph. "Every one of those dinuppearanees cleared up, and a etone jji tivcry one of them." ! "11, tlooa more," said March sadly.

"It, imikt'u nine, old friend, for tho ninth "Wfi« Willi tlio poor old squire, and the r<!«l, rei'o viuiShluxl." 1 "Clooij heavens!" α-iod Macßride, "And 1 tola the chio! that all we had to 4o wiu to add thoeo to tlu< elm in." Jits frtCO hud fallen swiftly enough - bi ii\it\U) March mm\a faintly at the fcfftjisjfcioni ■ ...'.'■ "Mever •kilikl, old dmp, wo >, ro not MM ,y»l., l/lrefc o( nil, X would like to •ftiivfc ili.t fads iilioni; thoiio murders, for n'z (/li'ili tilttfcoiio iuhl nil ni'o by the Mitttt huM,"

, wrHfcoH miid MaomWh "\ 'phoned mi'l <ll«|m(,e,hod iaon w t-tt-ty i\)t)\, fl-urt (jfol, i(, down In black « ti.n'l Wltihe, I'ifli', lifttilOj lilurn, nw, nud II Milicli timlilfd upproylngiy a« ho H tapldly sfaimod (ho pflntod report, ■ 'which told how tho eight difforonb B I>aople iad been cvidently lured away.

from their homes, killed and buried in any newly-made grave, just as he had described the finding of Sir Richard Western's body. The results had been, however, only unimportant as far as money was concerned; they were all comparatively poor people, the sons or daughters as the case may be having apparently married their chosen mates almost directly after the excitement had died down. ''Just stumbling-blocks removed," said Macßrido, as 'he lib his pipe, and March looked up with an almost vivid light in his eyes as he re-echoed those words. "By jove! Mac, you're right, etumblino- block removed!'' He paused. "Yes," he repeated, softly, "just stumbling blocks removed." March replaced the stones and put them safely away. "Well, I'm going to make an early call at Croydale Hall now, but if you're coming, Mac, I can tell you all the events." "You bet I am," said Mac. Lets walk if you don't mind, old man, I'm stiff with sitting in that car almost all nig' nt " , i , Once outside, March proceeded to outline what had happened, and the excitement of the superintendent at the iinding of Brent's dagger was beyond description. He was also inclined to be an<n-y for the first time in his life with hi/friend for having interfered with the routine of official business. "My dear man," he cried, "Why on earth didn't Thompson have him arrested at once! Was there ever such a fool as a country policeman. Why, the fellow will have escaped by now! "Not he," answered March quietly. "And von must blame me, not Thompson. *He had written a beautifully neat warrant, and was positively crying over having to put the 'bracelets' on to his beloved doctor, when I came in and stopped him, taking all the responsibility." ' , , , "But why—why? I can't understand your reason when he's so obviously guilty," said the justly heated superintendent.' , . ~ "I'm not'sure that it is so obvious,said March. "I wanted to give the real criminal a little move rope with which to han- himself. So far we have only rrot circumstantial evidence to go upon; bad enough I grant you, but persona.* I do not believe that Rex Brent »ad a hand in it, though he may do <=o Tlacßrkle mopped his forehead bevvilhe had a hand in it himself? Of course he knows whether he murdered the man or not, doesn't he? ■ "Not necessarily," was the quiet reply, "and if I am right, he is by no means certain whether directly or indirectly that same death is ..not due to him and that is where the gemus of irescowen will com,e to our aid.' While talking they had reached the Hiah Street and. were almost at hand of "the tiny chemist's shop which served: as post office as Well to the village. From its doorway issued Tom I ranter, with his medicine basket on nis arm, and a magazine in his hand as usual. March smiled as he noted the man's abstracted air, and was about to pass on when a sudden taught, struck Inn Every letter and act was importance just now, and although Tranter'? visit to tne chemist 01 tno post office woe quite possibly in order yet the detective had reached a stage at which he suspected every person in the SirictTmuchmore Dr. Brent's own Mac," he stopped n ° Won't keep you a minute, though; you E -Uhea on," and March entered rials of H.M. Government. in" the rare posta, °'i?wa" deepf scored, but h.r. Dame Spiriting -and the pencilled impression. n≤hKSe?fof a telegram form ali and tmder the pretence of writing his message, lie took a note of the.one hofore him. Addressed to a stieet m Pimlico the words ran, "Eight- sleeping draughts here, send surgeon. There was no signature, and Maicli would dearly have liked to have asked he ehingh3d y young official the. bobm, of those who had sent telegrams that morning. But he did not want to intrud£hto official capacity immediately, MfJggJ attention to the words, for the title "surgeon" had ■ struck an unpleasant chord of memory. On the surface the words appeared innocent enough. If indeed Dr. Brent had sent Tranter with that telegram, as looked quite likely, then there might be nothing in it save what it appeared to read on the surface. A message possibly cent to a chemist's shop in the Pimlico district that had sent him previous sleeping draifghts'. , .. . But the number eight, coming just on top of Mac's delivery of those precious stones worried him, for March, as we have said before, at times seemed posseted of a sixth sense for scenting the out-of-the-ordinary clue, and the number eight—eight sleeping draughts— eifht stones—eight Flowers of Sleep —

eii?ht murders, and now a ninth . If he only knew just whether that "surgeon" really meant a doctor to bo sent, and if so why, when there were no particularly urgent cases in the village. March knew in his experiences with the underworld that somewhere here or on tho Continent there still roamed at large Jean Gerant, whose pseudonym throughout London and Paris where he most often worked his nefarious schemes was the "surgeon," and who had gained his name because he thought so little of

using the knife, yet had never been caught in the actual act, or sufficient evidence found by which to convict him. The name had an ugly sound. March could not of course be sure who had sent the telegram, but having written a mythical message to a mythical address so as to account for his time, he turned again to the wire netting. As he did so, he Saw that the girl was searching for something. "Drat that boy of Deniston's" she exclaimed to a companion. "I believe he went oil with my blacklead pencil. Gave it to 'im to write his blessed wire, he was in such a hurry to get off, and —oh, no, here it is. Got a head I have, haven't I . . . I" She flashed a provocative glance at March, expecting him to turn a compliment as usual, but the gpod-looking boy, as she- mentally termed him, was standing still, staring fixedly at his onw messago in his hand as if dissatisfied with it after all. His thoughts were travelling swiftly enough. "Deniston's boy, eh, and in a hurry." So the lawyer had sent a wire, too, but was it this one or another? Outside in the High Street again he stood still and irresolute for a moment, then, as if regretting liis resolve, he turned on his heel, re-entered the shop and advanced to the wire grille again. "I'd like- to add to that telegram of mine, miss. Never mind, though, I'll write another." ' Seizing another form, he dispatched a messageto his own man at his chambers in Jerniyn Street. "Go to Yard and look up Black Cate; wire back when you find them." This cryptic message- kept the young lady thoroughly amused for the next quarter of an hour, little recking, of the "rim inquiry that lay beneath the few words which she reeled eff so glibly. (To be continued daily.)