The QUEEN'S HALL —MURDER 11

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 238, 7 October 1932, Page 13

The QUEEN'S HALL —MURDER 11

By ADAM BROOME, Author of " Crowner'a Quest," etc.

CHAPTER XI. Interlude. Once Mrs. Brackley-Hargreaves, J.P., was well started it took a good deal to stop lier. Mrs. Manton, Lettice's mother, usually considered her rather a bore, in the post-mortems, which followed every rubber played by the Shallow Bridge Club, no voice was ever more persistent, no argument more decisive than that of the woman magistrate. She was much addicted to "good works"— so long—that was—as the performing of them caused her no personal inconvenience. Mrs. Brackley-Hargreaves had a car— a large and luxurious saloon. But she was of the old school and kept a well-turned out carriage and pair as well. In this she would pay her calls of state in the neighbourhood; in this she would often drive to the weekly meetings of the bridge club. In her heart of hearts Mrs. BrackleyHargreaves loved nothing so much as the chance of exercising her judicial functions given her by her appointment as a Justice of the Peace for the county. But a listener to her remarks this morning to Mrs. Manton might have been deceived. "Of course, my dear, I ought not to complain; I don't complain, I hope. One should never complain of one's duty. But you really cannot conceive how tiring it is—how much it can take out of one when one sits trying cases in the Police Court." Mrs. Brackley-Hargreaves sighed. Mrs. Manton was glad that she was in no / danger of appearing before her visitor in her official capacity. "I can quite understand; but you don't have to go so very often, do you?" Mrs. Manton did not intend this for a shaft of sarcasm; but the Justice of the Peace winced all the same. In actual fact she never did trouble to attend the weekly sitting of the Court unless she chanced to have some interest in any of the cases to come before the Bench. She would, to do her justice, have argued that regular attendance on her part was not necessary. Were there not a dozen or more magistrates equally qualified to sit? Should not the heavy civic burden be equally shared ? Mrs. Manton was sorry the moment she had uttered the innocent remark. An ominous nodding of a high-crowned hat heralded a long exposition of the rights and duties of the county magistrate. Luckily, before sho could get into her stride, the door of the little drawingroom opened, and Lettice came in. Old Mrs. Manton, sitting in her usual chair by the fire, her writing materials on her lap, her loudspeaker on the little tabic beside lier, ready to be switched on when the time came for the morning service, was unashamedly dozing. It was a convenient privilege of age. Her daughter, for once, admitted to herself -that old age had its compensations a<s well as its drawbacks.

"Good morning, Mrs. Hargreaves." Lettice sliook hands formally with, the august J.P. She looked fresh and charming in a sporta coat, short beige pleated skirt, grey silk stockings and heavy golf shoes. "You'll be going «ver to Mill Dean to help try this case against Tom Saxby? I'm afraid I shall have to start now. It begins at half-past ten, I believe. It's half-past nine now, and I'm going to walk—and it's quite three miles from here." Lettice knew quite well where their visitor was going. Her mother had read out at breakfast the postcard in which Mrs. Braekley-Hargreaves had stated her intention of looking in on Mrs. Manton at Shallow on the way from her home at North Mailing to the little court at Mill Dean. "I've got my car this morning," said the magistrate. "If you like, I can give you a lift." She turned to the girl's mother. "Though I doubt if this is the sort of case it's -very nice for you to hear." , Old Mrs. Manton began to show signs of life, and the visitor greeted her. The old lady was not fond of the J.P., though she was too polite not to try to conceal her dislike. Old Mrs. Manton had never voiced the opinion in the presence of the visitor, but she considered that there was something almost indecent in the idea of a woman J.P. —a female magistrate. The functions of a judge belonged properly to men; they were their prerogatives, the privileges and duties of the stronger sex. Mrs. Braekley-Hargreaves bowed to the old lady as she woke up from her doze. "Good morning Mrs. Manton. lam sorry if I disturbed you. But I have got to go over to Mill Deau this morning to sit on rather an unpleasant case. I had to see your daughter-in-law about fixing up the next meeting of the club, and I seized the chance to stop here on my way. I suppose you've heard about poor little Mollie Crowther?" Old Mrs. Manton a look of surprise. Iler daughter-in-law tried to make a sign-to Tier-visitor to desist. But her mother-in-law's interest was aroused. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Hargreaves," broke in Lettice hastily, in an attempt to cause a diversion. "But I really must be moving off. I think, perhaps, I'd better walk.° It'll be good exercise. And if I don't start now I'll never be in time." The magistrate again made a gracious offer of a seat in her. car. Lettice again accepted, though not without some inward misgivings. But, as slie reflected, the run to Mill Dean would be a very short one in Mrs. Braekley-Hargreaves' powerful car, and she was anxious to hear into what'further indiscretions her visitor might be tempted. Her grandmother was now fully awake, and she was quite perspicacious enough to detect the conspiracy to hide something from her. "Mollie Crowther ? Why what can have happened to Mollie Crowther? I saw iier only yesterday in the village street-— when t. was out in my chair. Since you were last here you did not know we'd bought an electric motor invalid chair, and that I get about quite a lot - by myself." Her daughter-in-law knew that there was no use in trying any further to keep the news of the tragedy from her mother-in-law's ears. And she preferred to let her hear what there was to be heard from her own lips, rather than from those of her visitor, who would certainly make the most of it, in order to emphasise as much as possible the importance of her own position with regard to it. "We didn't like to tell you, mother," she said.. "You knew—we all knew Mollie—and she was a special favourite of yours. And you've had too "many shocks lately. And we wanted to break the news as gently as possible. But now it has come out I'd better tell you all we know." To Mrs. Manton's surprise, Lettice interrupted again.

"Yes, granny, it's rather nasty —but not so bad as it might have been. Mollie had an accident last night; she got rather hurt on the road to the post office by a lorry... The driver didn't see her in time, and his mudguard caught her in the ribs." She paused for breath, Mrs. Manton was fully awake by now, and obviously greatly moved. "But, my dear—if she was only wounded—why is Mrs. Brackley-Har-greaves going to the Police Court? I—" The distinguished visitor was about to speak. But Mrs. Manton forestalled her. She knew her well enough to be quite sure that she would not willingly let slip a chance of emphasising the importance of her own position, of making it quite plain that she was on her way to exercise one of the gravest and most serious duties that can fall to the lot of a magistrate—to be one of the Bench sitting to hold an investigation into a case of murder. She knew, too, that Mrs. Brackley-Hargreaves, with all her weighty and pompous manner, was a little slow in the uptake, and might not, unless some very pronounced hints were thrown out, gather that she was not expected to say any more on the matter. "Mrs. Hargreaves, as a magistrate, has to go and help at an inquiry into tho cause of the accident. If it was the driver's fault, it may mean that he will have to be punished later on." The explanation thus given sounded plausible enough. If anything further were prevented from coming out, the old lady might be kept for some time longer in ignoranco of the death of her little friend, and of its very sinister circumstances. Luckily Mrs. Brackley-Hargreaves at last grasped from the trend and tone of the younger Mrs. Man ton's remarks that she was expected to refrain from goin<* into further details of the case in which she was to assist. es it's as your daughter says," she exclaimed at last." .And now if I am not to keep the rest of the Bench Waiting, I really must make a start." She took her leave and Lettice followed her, making a grimace at her mother as she held open tho door of the tiny drawing room for the august visitor's exit. 'When Mrs. Manton and her mother-in-law were alono again together the older woman began to speak: . hope, my dear, that you aren't trying to hide anything from me. I know nothing of the law or the processes of tho law; but I must admit that I am puzzled as to why Mrs. Brackley-Har-greaves is taking all this trouble to come O v C Bean just because of a slight accident to Mollie Crowthcr." The other did her best to allay her mother-in-law's suspicion's. "I am very sorry—very, very sorry i-i iar ' an y h ar ni has come to the child. She was a dear little girl and wo often used to stop and talk in the village when we met. I've even given her little presents from time to time— a picture book, a doll—a penny to buy some sweets. Though lately I have given up that as I hoar that her mother doesn t like her to have sweets." A shade of anxiety passed over the younger Mrs. Manton's face: but her mother-in-law did not notice it. It was rumoured in the village that poor Mollie Lrowther's death had been caused by eating poisoned sweets. Supposing, by some irony of fate, that the poor child had bought them with some of tho money actually given her by her benefactor and friend! If anything like that should chance to come out at the inquiry, it would certainly have to be kept at all costs from tho old lady's ears. She had seemed more than a little queer and strange since tho death of Signor Parelli, and ho was a stranger, a man she had never even seen. Yet she had been so upset by tho news of his death that she had developed almost a kind of melancholia. And this sudden return to composing music—writing a sort of requiem in honour of the man she had eo admired from afar, seemed something akin to mania. What would be the effect on her should she by chance come to know that an actual friend and acquaintance had come by her death through her own, if innocent, agency? The shock which it would cause licr might have even moro distressing results. She was not by any means strong and there was always tho fear that any sudden shook might bo attended by very serious circumstances.

And then Mrs. Man ton had a reaction: began to feel that she herself was becoming a little disordered in her own mind, which could build such extraordinary fancies on such slight foundations. "You sec, my dear, that once these sort of people start one kind of crime, it may easily lead to another." •It was only because she was anxious to gather, at first hand, all the details she could about the mysterious tragedy of the death of little Mollie Crowther, whom she had known quite well, that Lettice Manton was able to endure, even for the short space of the motor drive from Shallow to Mill Dean, the pompous and snobbish self-righteousness of the county's least popular woman magistrate. She knew Tom Saxby, too. He had often done odd gardening jobs for her mother, and, if her suspicions were correct, had occasionally not been above removing, here and there, now and then, a flower or so, a vegetable, a shrub or two when no one had been supervising his rather ineffectual efforts. But .of this even there was no definite proof. It might quite well have been, as the man himself averred, that others of less

good repute in the village had seized the chance of pilfering such trifles behind his back, when it was known that the garden was in his care. One never knew whom to trust in a village. But even if Tom Saxby had been guilty of these petty thefts, it seemed rather a far cry from them to murdering an innocent child—a child against whom—so far as she knew—he could have no possible grange. And to murder her, furthermore, by the medician method of offering her poisoned sweets. Men of Tom Saxby's intellect and upbringing, even when they had criminal propensities, hardly ever employed such refined means of getting rid of those whom, for some reason, "they might hate. More and more, as Mrs. BrackleyHargreaves' volume of sententious talk surged round and enveloped her, did she feel that some absurd, fantastic mistake had been made; that the real cause for the crime—if it were a crime—was something much deeper and more sinister than a mere local village grudge; or that—and this was far more likely—it was merely a case of unfortunate accident. (To be continued J