Fenwick's Legal Wife

Auckland Star, Volume LXIV, Issue 82, 7 April 1933, Page 13

Fenwick's Legal Wife

By - MARLEY CAMERO:

CHAPTER VL An Awful Discovery. Conforming to the punctuality which becomes second nature to naval officers, Geoffrey Stevenson, with Miss Burrows in tow, arrived at Sam Wrench's office on the stroke of ten. He had withstood the temptation to tell her the object of the visit. "I believe that he's been going into the. case, and he wants to put himself right, .about some of the details. Probably hell ask you a lot of questions." ... -'. "That's all right, Mr. Stevenson. I don't in the least mind answering Mr. Wrench's questions. He isn't at all the terrifying person ,1 expected to see. She was looking-very alert and pretty when she-was-ushered into Sam's office. "Good morning, Miss Burrows. Since I saw youitwo days ago I've been making inquiries in London. Have you ever heard of a Cuban named Sanchez Perez f "Oh, yes. Ho came over in the boat with us. He's a journalist in Havana, and edits a paper full of scurrilous articles on well-known people. Consequently his paper has the largest circulation on the island. Everybody seems to be afraid of him; at any rate, he is private no one has a good word to say treated with exaggerated civility, but in for him. He seems to enjoy his notoriety." "You mean that they are afraid he will revenge himself for any slight by coming out with a scurrilous article about the man who has offended him?" "I suppoe so. You see, everybody in Cuba seems to have something to hide and hopes that his neighbours don't know about it. Senor Perez ferrets it out and publishes it with, a few spicy details out of his own head. But it's not that only that makes people afraid of him. It is that he fights his own duels." "Is that unusual in Havana?" asked Sam, mildly amused. "Very.! All the other editors keep a paid man on their staff to accept challenges for the editor and fight his duels, but Senor Perez prefers to fight his own and he's a dead shot."

"X should like to meet this sportsman," exclaimed Geoffrey. "Does he Mil people much?"

They say that 'he is very clever at hitting them in non-vital spots—"arms, legs or feet."

"Did you see-much of him on the boat?" asked Sam.

"To much. He made himself rather a nuisance, with" his curiosity about what was taking us to England. I had to snub him rather, drastically and he isn't an easy man to snub."

"lake.".most conscientious journalists. A thick'skin is an important part of their equipment. I suppose that he knew ail about Mr. Fenwick's tragic death."

"Yes; he told me that he had written it up for his paper and he offered to fetch the article from his cabin for me to read, but I didnt encourage him." I

"Did he tell you why he wa3 coming to England?" "No, he was rather mysterious about that. He said that he was specially interested in economic questions and the effect that the British tariff would have on the trade in Cuban sugar and tobacco."

"How, if I may ask, did he make himself a nuisance?"

Miss Burrows flushed. "Well —if you really want to know—he would never leave me alone on deck for a moment; he would always get soppy and sentimental."

"I see. Did he ever mention to you the name of a man called Bruce Fenwick?"

The girl searched her memory. "No, if he had I should remember the name. Naturally my head was full of the Fenwick family.''

"One more question. Were you present when the captain of the Oroya had that interview with Mrs. Fenwick when he gave her that envelope which was supposed to contain her late husband's will?"

"No, but I was at the window. I saw him arrive and' I saw him go away." "What did he look like?" "He was a short man, nearly as broad as he was long and he walked with a rolling gait. He had naturally a jolly round face, but he looked dreadfully worried as he came to the door—hot from his walk up that hill—and flustered, if you know what I mean. When he came out to go away he looked quite different. I could see that he was enormously relieved; he walked with quite a springy step."

"Like a man who has just got an unpleasant duty off his chest?" "Exactly. I ran to Dolores Fenwick to hear what he had come about and found her in an awful state. She had dropped her letter unopened on the floor and was staring straight before her as if she was in a trance. I picked up the letter, but she wouldn't open it. She kept repeating in Spanish—"Dead! Dead !"<* and sobbing. More to distract her thoughts than anything else I asked her whether she would like me to open the letter and tell her what was in it; she nodded and it was I who broke the seals and found the blank paper in both envelopes. She was in such a state that I did not dare to tell her; all that came later when she was calmer." .

"Naturally it must have been a terrible shock to her, but you were able to talk things over calmly a few days later."

"In a few days? No, we fla d a * er " rible time." The girl shuddered at the recollection. "She lay at death's door for weeks. I had to send little Peter away to his grandmother, and as Dolores couldn't bear to see strangers all the nursing fell on me. There was a time when the doctor hinted that if she pulled through physically he would not answer for her reason. She was like. that for months."

"Didn't the British Consul call upon you all that time?"

"The British Consul? I don't suppose he knew of my existence. Why should he have called?"

"And you never went to the 'Consulate for advice?"

"No, I don't even know where it is." "Did you see any English newspapers ?" "An English newspaper—l think it was the Times' —used-to- come addressed to Mr. Fenwick by mail for a time, but I never opened it. ff I had, I shouldn't have had time to read it."

"But you took in the Cuban newspapers 1" "No; if I had had time to look at newspapers, I shouldn't have wasted it hy reading airy-o€ tibe/nxf'- t

"You are wondering what can be the object of all these questions, and I'm going to tell you. There were advertisements in the English and Cuban papers some months ago inviting any claimants to the estate of the late Mr. Fenwick to communicate with his solicitor in England. The British Consul also received a letter asking him for a certificate of Mr. Fenwick's death. You knew nothing of all this?"

"Nothing. I suppose that other people read the advertisements, but, as no one could come to the house while Dolores lay between life and death, I saw nobody but the tradesmen and the doctor, and of course they didn't read English newspapers."

"Now, Miss Burrows, I'm afraid that what I'm going to tell you will be a shock to you. Before Mr. Fenwick ever thought of going out to Cuba he married in England and had a son; also he made a will leaving all his property to his wife and any children he might have. This wife is still alive."

The girl stared at him- '"You mean that he got a divorce?" "No, he was never divorced." "Then," she faltered," he committed bigamy when he married in Cuba, and Dolores is not his wife?" "Technically he committed bigamy, but not intentionally. He had been told by has solicitors that his first wife was dead." "How awful! Dolores must never be told this. It would kill her." She thought for a moment. "What you have told me explains a great deal that we didn't understand at the time. On his first visit to Europe Mr. Fenwick must have heard that his wife was still alive, and that was why he wouldn't come back to the house; that was why he realised all his property and made a second will leaving everything to Dolores and Peter—the will that was stolen. He wanted to undo the wrong he had done them, poor man. No, Dolores must never be told. I'll take them back to Cuba and work for them. Pm sure that I can make enough to keep the three of us if we live very quietly. You see, I've no one in the world belonging to me." "No one?" "No; my father was a naval officer; he died when I was fifteen, leaving us very poor. My mother sent me to learn shorthand and typing. I don't think it would take me long to get up my speed again." "Why did you go to Cuba?" asked Geoffrey. "Well, just as I was leaving the school and was ready to take a job, my poor mother died and I was left stranded. There was nothing to keep me in England, and I had always wanted to see foreign countries. One day I read an advertisement for an English nurse—a lady by birth—to go out to Havana on a liberal salary. I sent my qualifications to the address given, and received a cable from Mr. Fenwick engaging me. The passage money came by mail a few days later. That was four years happiest years of my life. You see, I couldn't do too much for Dolores in return for all they've done for me. The least I can do is to work for her now." Lots of rich Americans come to Cuba and want secre"l hope that it come to that, Miss Burrows. It's true that we cannot make Mrs. Fenwick's marriage a legal one, but it may not be too late for us to get for her the money that was left to her." "Where is it now?" "I'm afraid that it's been given to the people I mentioned just now. You see, there was this former will; the executor acted upon that will and handed over the money. There has since been a new complication. You may have noticed in this morning's paper „an account of the murder of a man named Bruce Fenwick." „ "You mean that civil servant? Yes, the name caught my eye, but I didn't read it aIL" "Bruce Fenwick was the son of your Mr. Fenwick by his first wife, and if he made no will his share of the estate will go to his next-of-kin —his mother." "How very unfortunate that if he had to be murdered it should have been just at this moment. I know what these sensational papers do in raking up all kinds of irrelevant facts about families. Hadn't I better take Dolores away before somebody in the hotel starts talking to her about the case?" "Cannot we trust to her imperfect knowledge of English? For the moment it is essential that you should both remain in Plymouth, where I can have ready access to you in case of need." The girl seemed only half convinced. "It will be taking a risk, but you are in charge of the case,' Mr. Wrench, not I, and I must give way to your judgment." At that moment the baize door swung open, disclosing Withers—Withers in a ferment of suppressed excitement, attempting to convey some secret intelligence to his employer in uncouth pantomime, accompanied with soundless play with his lips. Geoffrey, who was facing the door, was the first to observe this startling apparition. "The blow has falien at last, Sam," he said. "It's a clear case for the padded van from the County Asylum." "What is it?" demanded Sam, impatiently. "Speak out, man; you've got a voice." Thus admonished, Withers blurted out the name of Preston. . "Show him in." . . Hilary Preston's entrance, driving Withers before him, reminded Sam of the remorseless advance of a steam roller. "Busy?" inquired the big man. "I shan't keep you a moment. I've had a look at that stuff you sent me this morning. It's the stuff right enoughpretty poor stuff, too." "You could swear to it if necessary! "Swear to it? Yes, and let any crossexaminer break his teeth in trying to 1 shake me. Here's my report. Now I'll leave you to get on with your work." Hilary Preston wore heavy boots; they could hear him clattering down the "You must excuse this interruption, Miss Burrows, but it has an important bearing on your case. That gentleman has established the fact that one of the seals on that envelope had been tampered with and repaired with another kind of sealing wax—the kind that was issued to tie mail steamer in which James Fenwick made his last voyage." i "So the will was stolen on board the steamer. I wish I had interviewed that captain myself instead of leaving him to Dolores." "Indeed I wish you had. It has just occuied to me that if that Cuban who came over with you—Sanchez Perez—is a journalist and he knows who you are, he may blurt it out in Fleet Street. If he does you'll have a horde of reporters coming down to interview Mrs. Fenwiek.'? . L . 1

"I shan't mind that a bit because I shall take good care that they don't see Dolores. If they see me they won't learn anything because I shall decline to answer any questions." "Some of them are very diplomatic and persistent." "Never mind that, Pm persistent, too, and their diplomacy would be quite wasted on me."

Sam smiled as he rose to Bhake hands with this determined little lady. "You needn't be afraid that I shall let the grass grow under my feet, Mies Burrow*. All you have to do is to keep Mrs. Fenwick in happy ignorance of what I've told you and wait in Plymouth until I have something useful to tell you. Good-bye." Geoffrey Stevenson escorted her back to the Duke of Cornwall Hotel. He was unusually silent—in fact, it was not until they were in eight of the building that he blurted out what was. on his mind. "Look here, Miss Burrows, we've got i a flat in Sloane Square—quite a decent little flat with a spare room x>r twoi If you get into any difficulty which forces you to take Mrs. Fenwick into hiding, why not bring her and the small boy,to us? I happon to know that my wife would be delignted to have them." "Thank you so much, Mr. Stevenson. You've been far too good to us already, but I know that you mean what you say, and it \flill be a great relief that We have eoratebody like you and Mrs. Stevenson to fall back upon."

They parted at the door. Nancy was hurrying past the hotel desk when the porter ran after her. "If you please, miss, there's a gentleman here asking for Mrs. Fenwick. He's just come down from London, he eaye, on purpose to see her. I told him that the lady saw no visitors, but he won't take no for an answer. Will you see him?"

"Does he look like a newspaper reporter?" "He's over there, miss, by the desk. You can judge for yourself." Nancy Burrows felt that if she looked at him he would come forward. She had boasted to Mr. Wrench that she was equal to dealing with the most persistent of the breed. She had now to prove it. "Very well," she said, "I will see him." (To be continued daily.)