Beads of Silence

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 306, 27 December 1929, Page 14

Beads of Silence

By L. BAMBURG,

CHAPTEE XVIII. It was getting fairly" late, and March turned his steps to the mortuary close to, the police station, wliere- he hoped to find Dr. John Trescowen, who had been left to his gruesome task, but the rattle of ctips at a window as he turned the corner gave him a fresh idea. Making sure that he was not noticed, he slipped through the;doctor's , ,gate and Uμ the little path that led to; the side entrance and the kitchens,.whence the sound had come. - : But Septimus March was not bent on tea, his one desire was to get hold again, of Mrs. Rennett, the doctor's housekeeper. That lady expressed considerable surprise at sight of the London detective at her.side door, but was easily persuaded in face of March's reassuring words to have a little chat with him. "Airs. Eennett," he said, quietly. "I am going to take you into my confidence, and you must give me your word to keep silent."

"You can depend on me, sir," she said. "I'm not one for gossip, as the doctor would tell you." .

"I want you to throw your.mind back to last week, Mrs. Rennett, before that Thursday, yoy , know. You remember the doctor, asked you yesterday if any visitor had called and been shown into the surgery, and you said-not."

Mrs. Rennett nodded her affirmation of his and her own statements.

"Are you still quite sure?" he asked

"Quite," she said firmly. "Only Miss Evelyn, bless her. I was her nurse, sir, and. she's like my own .child, if I may take the liberty. She came as I said, and ran in for a few minutes, and came out again and round to me here in this blessed' kitchen. Quite excited she was, I do remember that, because she said, 'Nursie; I believe father's coming round at last, and he'll like Dr. Brent like he used to do.'"

March nodded thoughtfully. "What made her say that, I wonder " ie said with a little frown.

"Well, sir, she asked me not to tell the doctor that she'd come, because it was a secret between her and the Squire, but that jt was going to make things all right for them now, so of course I didn't say anything at the time, and never thought any more about it until you spoke yesterday and now—it did no harm, though, did it, sir?" She looked tip anxiously into the detective's absorbed face.

"Harm," he echoed: "No, no,. Mrs. Rennett, the harm was done innocently enough, I should fancy, and you have helped me, perhaps, to undo it. You don't happen to remember where Miss Weston had been or where she was going afterrshe left you, do you?" "Yes, sir, as it happens I do," was the reply, "for I remember she wouldn't stop even for a cake- as she sometimes does, because she said she must go straight hoaie as she had lost so much time at Mr. Deniston's office, at which she had called with a message from the Squire." "Well, well, Mrs. Rennett," said March, rising from his chair, "it's a long lane that has no turning, and one can learn a lot in a lane, too," he added .under his breath. "Anyhow, you've settled one point for me, and now I'll get along." ' '■ . If his conjectures were right, Evelyn Weston had abstracted that bottle, but how had she replaced it again, and what had happened at Deniston's? Had Aylmer Deniston contrived in his turn to steal the poison or had she taken it home to Anthony Darford or used it herself with the syringe missing from.Dr. Brent's case?

March stopped at the mortuary, for he did not dare go down to Deniston's office again, knowing that the lawyer would be on his guard, and even if he questioned' the frightened Stevens, he would get but little result save letting Deniston know he was suspected-. ... Sending up his card with, a little note, March waited, in the outer office.

."The police officer on duty who had taken, up , the note return'ed a minute later saying that Dr. Trescowen was just then coming down, arid almost on his heels the great surgeon followed. His face was white and strained after his day's work, and he;*sh'opk :hands heartily with March, whom-lie had met on several criminal cases.

"I was just finished," he said/ in answer to March's expressed hope that he had not disturbed him.

■ "There are no traces of poison," he went on. "That puncture on the arm was a very old one, probably used for injecting morphia, but nothing to do with the cause of death, and as that dagger exactly fits the wound, I can only give my--certificate that murder was committed with it. Yet I confess just one thing—there was a white- substance in the mouth—". March: started excitedly, to his feet—"Poison!" he cried. ' "No, nothing to do with the death, it was magnesia, just.'plaih magnesia." March gave a little: start: and drew out his precious bottles—the sealed one given him by Dr. Brent, the other.one snatched from Anthony Darford's laboratory table. "Dr. Trescowen," he said earnestly, "can you give me any idea as to what these two bottles co'ntain? If so, it will save a lot' of time. ' Do not touch the bodies of the bottles if you can help it; T want to take-the finger prints if they have not worn off, but even knowledge of the contents of each bottle would help." ' t. The great pathologist looked anxious. "There are no means here for making a thorough test, but as it happens I always carry my 'bag of tricks' with me, so let's have a try. . I suppose you suspect poison, but I should like , something to try on—a mouse or a rabbit, would do." He led the way up again to. a small room at the back, where were his hat and coat and a portmanteau. * March had meanwhile hurled a demand to the policeman, who a few minutes later conjuror-like produced a small rabbit, bought at an extravagant price at the oottage next door. . -, t \ He waited, with as much patience as he could summon, while the doctor made hie tests, and though these took but a quarter of an hour it seemed ■to March ■ as if he, too, were waiting for the verdict. \ The expert came down presently, bringing with him the two bottles and a very dead little rabbit. • ■ • "This bottle;" he said, pointing to the one which Dr. Brent had sealed, "contains just plain magnesia—the' Other.some new kind of poison, which acted instantaneously on tJiat* rabbit there. In.fact, l<

never saw anything act so quickly in m t y life. It leaves no trace, cither, for 1 tried it on a handy mouse up there. So it may have been inserted into the body also, but my own opinion is that the death was caused by the dagger." March sighed and thanked him for the hei]). There was no gainsaying the correctness of the verdict, and though he was still inclined to believe that this poison had been the primary cause of death, before the dagger, yet he had still too much more to find out before he dare say.the supposition to the authorities. He bade the Home Office expert goodbye, and with a heavy heart wont on his wav to the police station, outside of which stood a somewhat rickety old car, and inside waited the superintendent. "A wire here for you, March," said Mcßride, handing over the slip of paper. March read it almost with unseeing eyes. But he translated the cypher in which it was written almost mechanically. It told him that hie suspicions were right, that the gang known as "Les Chats Noire" were active and on the track of the Amulets of Mystery, but that was of little moment seeing that the murder had been committed by the one man in whose innocence he had so firmly believed.

"There's no (sign of poison, Mac," he said heavily. "I've just seen Treecowen and he is sending down a verdict that death was caused by that dagger." Macßride forbode to utter a word lest it might be construed as a triumph. But he turned to the inspector, standing nervpusly biting at his nails, a trick when lie was upset as now. "Better use that warrant as soon as you like, Thompson," he said. ' . . March stood quiescent, reading and rerending' tho cryptic telegram. "Just one minute, Thompson," he said. "Is there anyone about, here named Prince?"

"Two," was the surprising answer. "Old Prince the cobbler, next door but one, and the minister, the Rev. Amos Prince."

"H'm —no hope there, then—neither" of them likely to be Black Cats " His listeners stared, as well they might, for it "seemed to'them that Septimus March was going out of His mind. "Never mind," lie eaid brusquely. "Get along with your work." He turned to the superintendent with the. air of a nian who has come to a swift decision.

"Mac, I'm throwing up the ease. No," ho said, as his friend gave vent to a cry of dismay. "It's nothing to do about this arrest, but I have my own ideas. I'm going tip to town, to view things from another angle. Have the inqueet fixed for Friday, and I will return in time, if only to 6ee how far circumstantial evidence can hang an innocent man."

He gave a little nod to Thompson, standing fingering the warrant he was 60 unwilling to use, gave Mac's hand a hearty grip, arid strodej'out of the police etation. • ; v*

The car for which he had asked stood waiting for him and, getting into it, he drove hack to the Croydale Arme. Half an hour later all Croydale was electrified hy the news Rex Brent, the idol of every man, woman and child in the village, had been accueed of the murder of the late Squire Weston. (To be continued daily.)