"The Monday Night Murder"

Auckland Star, Volume LXI, Issue 221, 18 September 1930, Page 26

"The Monday Night Murder"

* By J. R. WILMOT. =

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS,

SIR GILBERT DYALL,-a well-known London financier, is staying at Beachaven Hvdro with .a small party of friends for the week-end. On Tuesday morning he does not appear at breakfast. Inquiry leads to the discovery of Sir Gilbert lying murdered in his room. INSPECTOR WILLARD, of Scotland Yard, is called in. The only clue is a bunch of blue violets tossed ia a. corner. The members of Sir Gilbert's party are detained. DR. PETER BLATNE, a medical expert at the Yard, is sent for by Willard to help him. CARR KLEINER, one o£ the party, Willard recognises as a man who was mixed up in a similar affair in the Argentine ten years ago. Willard demands from Kleiner to know why he was in such a hurry to leave the Hydro when apprehended.

• . CHAPTER V. Various Recollections. It is only under the moet exceptional circumstances when a callous murder has been committed to find a state of cold disinterest prevailing among those in whose lives the event has made a difference. Sir Gilbert Dyall was, outwardly, a most hospitable man. Hie little weekend parties were gay and companionable affairs irrespective of the social status of his guests. At the Beachaven Hydro, Sir Gilbert's coteries were known to be people of some moment, if not in the affaire of Mayfair, at least in the realm of business and commerce. To all appearances everyone seemed thoroughly happy to be able to escape, if only for the briefest of moments, the usually dull round of the daily life. When it became known, therefore, that Sir Gilbert had been ehot dead through the heart the .previous night after retiring to his room, the effect produced on the sniall party was a curious one. If Dr. Peter Blayne had been able to search the souls of each one of Sir Gilbert Dyall's guests during that fateful week-end, he would have been oddly perplexed, for he would have discovered that, from the criminal angle, each one ■ef them had a good and sufficient reaeon to be thankful for Sir Gilbert's death. But Blayne—or anyone else, for that matter —not being gifted with the eyes of ;a eeer, could not be expected to know that the news of their host's death had come ae a relief.

Jit was natural, perhaps, that the oecur. ence should cause no little perplexity in the minds of Roger .Pleydell, his wife, Elsa, Carr, Kleiner, Bernice Dyall and Anthony Page. Bernice was probably the only one among that number in whose heart there was a pang of regret.

Uncle Gilbert had always been very good and very considerate towards her. jOn the death of her parents abroad twelve.years ago he had been appointed guardian.; -The date of the. termination *>f his trusteeship was a year hence, when she would be twenty-five. He had given her a- good education. She had been at school outside Winchester ■ and later "finished off" at Berne. During the London season. Sir Gilbert had seen to it that: hie niece had received invitations to the best houses and the parties he gave for her at his house.in Portland Place were marked by a lavish thoroughness. To Sir Gilbert, it would seem, nothing was'too good for Bernice. • For himself.he had- never married, probably because, as he frequently put it, "being married.'is a.whole time job, usually: too busy." Apart from matters affecting Bernice, he was known to.be something of fCcynic where women were concerned. •' TBernice had often chaffed him'on. his bachelorhood, but she had never successfully drawn him into open combat, neither would he ever reveal any 7 of the affaires decoeur of Mβ more romantic days. When -Roger Pleydell broke the news to Bernice that her uncle was dead, her face blanched quickly, but her emotion was too deep for tears. She felt suddenly numb, and even the rapid ministrations of Tony Page failed to help her as he fondly hoped they, would do. Pleydell handed Bernice over to the care of his wife, and Elsa took the girl up to her room. Elsa Pleydell was in direct contrast to Bernice. Her hair and eyes were as dark as the night, and as inscrutable. "My dear," she sympathised, "I know that what, has happened is very dreadful, but you've just got to bear up under it. You musn't give way. You must think of Tony." "I am thinking of Tony," Bernice replied, slowly. "0, I do wish Uncle Gilbert had liked Tony just one little bit, and I wish he hadn't.died without letting me know it."

"Perhaps he did, dear. In fact, I'm •sure he did. Why, only on Sunday afternoon,"~she lied bravely, "I told him what a fine-young.man I though-Tony was, and—and he said he agreed with me." For a moment Bernice did,not speak. "You really; anean: that? " He really said he liked-Tony?' Bernice was clutching at a straw. Mrs. Pleydell nodded. ; "It's awfully hard to believe that — Elsa. Uncle Gilbert was frightfully annoyed when he found that Tony had turned up. You see Tony hadn't been invited, but he would insist on coming down and, of course, when Uncle Gilbert found him here, he just didn't want to cause any bother. But I know he was angry, and Tony knew it, too."

"He probably changed his mind," suggested Elsa. Downstairs, with breakfast left unfinished, Roger Pleydell was sitting hunched up in a chair in the smoke room. Opposite-him.sat Anthony Page, cheeks flushed, but lips drawn tight: "What do you make, of it, Pleydell?" Anthony Page rapped out the words quicklv. "Eh? What's that?" demanded the elder man, as if the sound of the other's voice had brought him swiftly from the fields of a dream. / . "I asked you what you made or this business ?" repeated the/young man.; • "I—l do'n't know what to. think. It's a ]l sudden. I haven't had time yet to realise it." ■ ' "Who could have wanted the old man out of the way?" demanded the young man,' swiftly and "to the point. "You knew him better than I did, Pleydell. You probably came across him in business. Devilish rotten thing, business. and to a man like .Dyall .I'll bet ..there was always someone hanging aboul round the corner waiting to.knife"him. You can't tell me that people make as much money as he did without some poor devil Voing vnder."'

Roger Pleydell leaned forward -£ihd stared at the young man in amazement. "Who wanted the old man out-of .the way?"' That was what Page had just said,. Who, indeed, more than himself or Kleiner, or. . . . once again the -tearible thought flashed through his brain and he shuddered. Who more than; Elsa? He remembered how cold she had been at breakfast, how her eyes kept wandering across to the closed door of the breakfast room; how she.had not wanted to go and see what had happened to Gilbert Dyall. .-..'■ : . /

By now the cold beads of sweat were standing out on his white forehead and his hands were tightly clenched around the.leather arms of the chair. •

"What's the matter ?" demanded Tony, anxiously. "You look just about, all in. Did Sir Gilbert mean so much to you as all that?" He sprang from his chair and came forward. "I've got a flask of brandy in my room/.11l go and f each it."

But Roger Pleydell had, with an effort, regained his composure. He smiled, weaklv. . . ' ■

"Thanks, old man, I'm quite all right now. Jolly decent of you, though. I suspect it must be the shock. It isn't every day one gets a-thing like this thrust on one." He spoke jerkily and with a little laugh. ;■

"I won't be a jiffy," Tony told him "it'll help pull you together."

"Thanks, but I'd rather you stayed," said Pleydell. So Tony stayed, but all the same he was puzzled.

By mid-day when it was known that Inspector Willard had arrived from Scotland Yard, things had "quietened down a little. Tony had p sought out Bernice and was doing his best to console her. They were in the lounge together, and

they -were alone. / "I don't like that Scotland Yard maii

one little bit," grumbled Tony. "He is altogether too officious." Seems to think he's the entire C.I.D incorporated in one man. I gave him to understand that you weren't to be worried when I found he wanted to interview you."

"But you shouldn't have done that, Tony," admonished the girl, seriously. "How can we expect him to find out who killed Uncle Gilbert if we don't answer his questions? You must try to be reasonable, Tony."

"My dear I want to try to get to the bottom of this as much as you do, but I won't have you pestered to-death-by that man Willard. These Scotland Yard men are infernally clever. They try to wheedle you into telling them what they, think suits their .own particular theories, and before you know where you are you're committing perjury. They write everything down, and the'n. at some awkward time, they confront you with it.'? , -. .:.'■

"You sound so terribly serious, Tony," smiled Bernice.

"I am serious," he told her. "I think you ought-to have me with you when he does want to see you. Moral support and all that, my dear."

Just then the door opened, and Miss Trinim entered. As usual she was carrying her little embroidered work-bag slung from a pair of silken loops from her thin wrist. Tony gave a grunt of annoyance when he saw who it was. Miss Trimm bored him. It was only yesterday afternoon she had cornered him down in the rose garden, where he had been looking for Bernice, and she had talked and talked about rambler roses until Tony Page felt that if ever he had a garden there would be no rambling roses in it. Miss Adela Trimm was typical of her type. There is a Miss Trimm in" every Hydro and country hotel in the land. She is the faded lily left for .some unaccountable reason refusing to die when autumn steals quietly over life's garden. She is unmarried, but she gives one the impression, nevertheless, that she is a spinster , rather from choice than \ from lack of opportunity. She is fussy in a quiet yet emphatic kind of way. Trouble has come to her, and. : trouble has .gone. She can accommodate her conversation to suit all kinds and conditions of company. When occasion demands it she is a Materia Medica, or can remember when Dan Leno first appeared-at Gatti's. She took up knitting and sewing really seriously-dur-ing the war (uncharitable "souls have been known to ask themselves which war), and it became quite a habit, "and habit's everything at my time of. life," says Miss a Trimm with a -little shrill laugh and a benign nod in the direction of her work-bag. . It has been said that Miss Adela Trimm was true to type. She crossed over to where Bernice was sitting arid put :■' her unoccupied arm around the back-of the chair.

"Is it not ''■ terrible, Miss Dyall," she began, with.; a, little flutter in her thin voice. "Terrible indeed. How sad for you! How incredibly sad! And to think that I was playing bridge with dear Sir Gilbert only • a few minutes perhaps before he was launched, as they say, into Eternity! And how:wonderful he was at bridge, my dear. Wonderful! I supported him in a, call of, three no trumps and the a small slam. Of course I had excellent support. I had the knave of diamonds, seven times and he ,;.. . . would you believe it, my dear? . . . he had the ace, king and queen. Dear, dear! How sad and unexpected life is. I remember when my father died. ' I-would be just about your age, my dear, and the shock . O, my dear, the shock. I thought I never should have recovered. He was so hale and hearty. You would have taken an indefinite lease! of his. life; but he was struck down. When the time comes, my dear, when the time comes . ~. .." • Bernice looked up into the pale moist eyes of the little slim woman beside her. "Thank you, Miss Triinm, it is comforting to know that you so sincerely syra-. pathise with me,.just as I do with you. It must be just as big'\ shock to you as it is to. all of us. Uncle told me on Sun-

day that you played an amazingly good game, Miss Trimm." - \ •>

"He told you that ?" cried Miss Trimm, her-eyes dancing with almost childish excitement. "My dear, but how beautiful!" •

'Tm : afraid I shall have to be going now/if, you'll excuse me," announced Bernice, rising from her chair. "I'm told that the inspector from London wants to talk to me after lunch."

"Of course, the inspector." murmured Miss Trimm, absently. "You know, Mr. Page," she followed up, turning to where Tony had been standing looking anything butcheerful, "I feel so nervous about the inspector. ■ Don't you think one always does when the police are around ? So disturbing, don't you think? Makes one feel almost criminal. From London you said, Miss Dyall? Yes, yes, of course. Mr. Pleydell told me a few minutes ago, but I'm afraid I wasn't listening. Do you think he'll want to see me lie policeman, I mean. I suppose when _he knows; I was playing bridge Gilbert he'll want to know . . ■ "I should tell him about the small slam, Miss Trimm," put in Tony, seriouslv. "I should say that wrald p e ' verv-important. Shows that Sir Gilbert went up to his room in a chcertul frame of mind."

"Of course, of course," smiled Miss Trimm, sweetly. "I must mention everything. None of us must keep anything: back from the police. It's our duty--our duty, Mr. Page." And Miss Trimm pummelled the cushions of her chair and made herself comfortable.

(To be continued daily.)