The Mysterious Masquerade

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 261, 3 November 1932, Page 21

The Mysterious Masquerade

J W L OT

'CHAPTER XlV.—(Continued.) i Then there was the note he had. written her asking her to go about the job he had sought for her. And she had not replied. Why? Simply because she had been pulling his leg? She knew quite ■■veil that she didn't need any job that she had, in fact, already got a job —a job as a decoy in Paul Silver's gambling salon at Hampstead. "I'm beaten," he told himself, miserably, "beaten to a frazzle. I don't understand it, and I don't see why I should bo bothering myself about it, or about her. She's fooled me, and that's all there is to it. Good-bye, Miss Carstairs, that's your trick, and because I'm not playing any more, it will be your last." But if Roger Barling thought he could dismiss Molly Carstairs from . his thoughts in such a manner, he was not one of those men who are, through the medium of the advertisement, exhorted to know themselves. "After all," he told himself, as he wrestled with his boiled shirt an hour later, "it was jolly queer meeting her again like that. AJI the same she might hayo said something; might have-. . ." In the midst of the dressing someone rang the front door bell. "A gentleman to see you, . sir," .announced Cleveland. "I told him you were dressing, but he was adamant, sir. His card, sir." ' . Barling' tooK the card and read: "Detective Inspector Blayton, Scotland Ya^a." "Cleveland; have \re committed a erime? Think man? Has the Bentley been standing without lights somewhere, or haven't .you paid for the meat ?" "Not that I recollect, sir." "Well, tell him we'll pay immediately." "I meant about the crime, sir." The young man grunted. "Show the gentleman in, Cleveland:" Inspector Blayton was a tall, goodlooking man, with a fresh complexion and slightly greying hair. In his own opinion he should have been promoted superintendent at least five years ago, but the commissioner had an antisuperintendent complex and liked Inspector Blayton rather well. "Mr. Barling?" inquired the inspector, ill a pleasantly cultured voice. "Sorry to .interrupt the ritual and all that, but I'd like a few words with you, if I may." " ' Barling had managed to connect eollar to stud with the/assistance of Cleveland, and turned a smiling face to the Scotland Yard man. "That's all right, inspector, Cleveland regrets he hasn't paid. It was a mental error,,.no fraudulent intent, you fcrww." "What the deuce are you talking about?" asked the amazed detective. "The meat," supplied Roger; blandly. "It Avas ihe meat you came about, ■wasn't it? , ' Inspector Blayton had been born with a sense of humour. It had assisted him greatly in his dealings with lunatics. "Let's talk, about that another time," he suggested. - "What-1 really came to ece you about was Mr. Carruthers." Roger Barling - immediately became eerious. "Do you mind if I give you a whisky, inspector?" "Thanks—just a little soda, if you don't mind." "And now about Carruthers. Nothing eerious, I hope?" The inspector took a sip at his glass. "Why should, you think that, Mr. Barling?"- '." * . "I knew ■ him quite , well, and —he's dead," answered Roger, quietly. "Just so—he's dead. I was not forgetting that. In fact, Mr. Barling, knowing him as you did, perhaps you could detail some of his habits for me. How ho used to spend his leisure." "Mighty ask the object of this interview, inspector?" "Certainly. To be quite frank with you, Mr. Barling, it has been suggested to the Yard that the coroner was misled as regards Ms verdict. That it wasn't altogether an accident." "You mean he was murdered!* , | The inspector shook his head. "No, not exactly, but don't you think it possible that he might have committed suicide?" In that moment the name of Molly Carstairs-flashed with vivid projection into the young man's mind. Also in that inoment he realised the trend of the .inspector's questioning, and while he dearly wanted Paul Silver to get his deserts he had no desire to drag the girl into -a criminal prosecution. "That is impossible for me to say, inspector. I knew Carruthers quite well. ■ Wβ had met here and there for many years. He was ft likeable fellow, rather headstrong at times, but always kept the bit between his teeth, if you know what I mean." "Yes, I, think. J do. I suppose you knew he'had been gambling a great deal?" . _ "No more than.most of us, I suppose," , smiled Roger, ruefully. .. . "Do you kriW where' he used to gamble, Mr. Barling?" • . . Roger laughed quietly.... "Well, inspector, seeing thai gambling is a sort of national vice, it would be difficult to say. Even at the most respectable parties there are opportunities' for a modest flutter. I shall probably be inveigled into a game of chemmy at Lady Burnacre's ' to-night. But do you seriously suggest that Carruthers committed suicide as a result of gambling losses?" "That was what I had in mind, and as I am—and have been for many years —interested in gambling parties in various parts of London, I have welcomed this opportunity to discover just where young Carruthers lost so much money as to cause him to do what I believe he did.".

"Isn't that rather dangerous, inspector? I mean in view of the coroner s verdict V

"Coroner's verdicts are frequently quite helpful things to Scotland Yard, Mr. Barling," smiled Blayton, grimly. "They sometimes have the effect of putting people off their guard and enabling tts to get to closer quarters than wo might otherwise be able." "I see/' nodded Roger. "But I'm. afraid I can't help you; It would take a long time for me to compile a list of all the places I met and I'm rather late as it is, inspector. , ' *

Inspector Blayton arose from his chair and finally emptied his glass. "There's one thing about me,-Mr. Barling," he smiled. "Time's no object on a case like this. I can wait, and perhaps next time" ■we meet you may be able to remember." Slowly Inspector Blayton descended the flight of stone steps that led to the street. He was in a thoughtful mood. It was quite obvious to him that Mr.

Roger Barling knew something. The inspector had been watching Ms hands. A little trick of his, that wae all. What the face frequently refused to disclose, the hands nearly always did, and when he had hinted at suicide, Mr. Barling's hands had clenched, quite involuntarily. It was dark outside, and the inspector was in no hurry. He paused for a moment in the darkened doorway that led to the suite of service flats above. Once again just a little trick he had cultivated.' As he paused he saw a man on-the opposite side of the road standing under a etreet lamp. Now people standing under etreet lamps, or any other kind of lamps for that matter, always interested the inspector. This man was trying to read something from a scrap of paper in his hand. Which was foolish of him, for it. enabled the inspector to recognise the man almost immediately. Stepping from his doorway the inspector deliberately crossed over to the lamp, and the man beneath it glanced quickly about him as he heard the oncoming footfalls. It was too late by then to do anything, so he stayed. "Why it's my old friend Judson," smiled the inspector, extending a friendly hand. "Well, Judson, howNs life?. Still treading the path of righteousness, I hope t" "You bet I am, Mr. Blayton," responded Judson, readily. "I've had my dose, I have. The game isn't worth the candle." "Nicely spoken, Judson. Still driving for Mr. Silver, at Hampstead, I hope? Nice fellow, Silver, they tell me, he treats his servants very well." "O, I can't complain," said Judeon. "He was .decent enough to give me a job when everything seemed pretty dry," "That's fine. Can I find the address you're looking for, Judson? I know this beat rather well." For a split second, Judson hesitated. "Thanks, inspector, I wae looking for someone name of Norris, a pal told me the other day he was looking for a man. You won't make it hard for me, Mr. Blayton, will you, and you won't split to Silver, neither, but I must better myself if I can, Mr. Blayton." "I might even give you a reference, Judson," smiled the inspector. "But I must confess I don't know anyone" of that name. Perhaps someone's been pulling your leg. However, let's stroll along to the Yard and we'll look up a directory. Useful things, directories, Judson. I reckon there's not a day passes but I consult my Kellys." • "Thanks," murmured Judson, "I never thought' of that." And arm in arm the two men strolled towards the Embankment.

CHAPTER XV. The Unknown Father. - The s.s. Inversnaide crept slowly up the Thames to Tilbury docks. She had made an uneventful trip from Bombay and had been fortunate not to be delayed "by bad weather. . On the promenade deck stood a soldierly figure leaning lightly on the rail. His heart had gladdened at the sight of Gravesend and now with Tilbury in sight in that grey October morning hie pulsee quickened. Major Aldous Caretairs looked a soldier. Hβ was tall and had intensely blue eyes that showed up pleasantly in his tanned complexion which was set off by a small, neatly-trimmed iron-grey moustache which matched exactly the colour of his hair. Hβ wae thinking that 20 years was a long time to be' absent from the Old Country and he was quite prepared for the changes that time must, necessarily, have brought. Yet he had felt it impossible to have returned earlier. During the war he had served in Mesopotamia and then, when the Great War had ended he had been transferred back again to the North-weet frontier which he knew so well and which he had always regarded as being the key position geographically to Britain's security in India. It was not that he had no longing to return to England. Many a time he had thought that an accumulation of furlough would have permitted him a twelvemonth in England, but after careful consideration he had decided that when he did return it would be for good. Hβ would settle down in some quiet place with Molly and permit himself to be absorbed by English rural society once again, hopeful that the years would have purged his memory of the sorrow he had known when 25 years ago he had married Helen Rawehorne and taken her out to India with him. Her death at the birth of his only child, Molly, had dealt him a hard blow a blow from which he had never wholly recovered, and even though he had sent the child back to England to be reared and educated, he realised that to come back again for a few short months and then to return, would only have been to re-enact the tragedy all over again in his mind. But now the past lay dead—white bones bleached in the sunlight. In a few weeks he would be leaving for ever the service he had grown to love because It had brought him the forgetfulness which the preservation of his sanity demanded, and more than that he would be reunited at last with his child. Many had been the times when he had eat in the welcome cool if an Indian night thinking about her and telling himself how fortunate he had been in having friends such as Paul Silver and his wife to bring her up; and it had been even more fortunate that the Silvers had chanced to be in India some months after hie wife's death when he had been driven almost to distraction to know what to do with that small bundle of whimpering humanity that was Ins child. Well, all that was over now. in half an hour she would be with him and the thought made him as happy as a, boy. He had already promised himself that Molly should have a jolly good time. In the months and the years that lay ahead of them he was determined that his Molly should have everything that ehe wanted. He would make up for her everything she had mtesed in the past. .He had sent word from Cherbourg that the vessel would make Tilbury about ten-thirty in the morning, and that he hoped that Molly and her guardians would be down to meet him. As a result of that message there Tiad, been a fever of activity at Lawn House. Molly had noted that Paul Silver looked somewhat paler than usual, while in contrast Flora. Silver's face was as red as a turkeycock's. Both of them impressed upon the girl the importance of the occasion, not forgetting, of course,; to. hint- how tragic it was that Molly should not have regained her memory in time to meet her "father." (To be continued daily.)!