THE GREEN GHOST

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 45, 22 February 1934, Page 23

THE GREEN GHOST

By STUART MARTIN (Author of "The Fifteen Cells," "Bate Jardine," ! ''The Surf Queen," etc.)

CHAPTER XIV. L "He Was My Brother." | Following 611 Dr. Foster's cry o: 9 dismay at the dreadful discovery came £ deep silence. The plash of the foimtaii in the middle of the palm court beeaiiK like the thundering of a mightly water ~ fall. Fully a minute passed durinj which the doctor stood rooted to the spot *. looking at, but scarcely seeing, the deac man. The situation was 11101 c thai dramatic. It was cataclysmic. Burelv . fifteen minutes had elapsed from the 3 moment that Foster had ecen this man £ walk through the doorway, of the lounge with Aland Barron, and now he was T seated, lifeless, in the alcove, his features k twisted in an agony of convulsive death. P Foster lifted the limp hand and gripped the wrist. It was a needless act, and he 1 knew it, but he did it from liabit. The • pulse was absent. He touched the etarj ing eyes with the tip of his little finger, 1 testing for .a sign of life. There was I no response, 110 flicker of the lid, no shrinking from contact. • The doctor knew that not a moment j was to be lost. He slammed the bell on the marble-topped table, ;.ind as lie 1 did so hi- noticed, for the first time with • his usual clearness, that two half-empty coffee cups were 011 the ledge under the 2 tablo top. Beside the collee cups was a small bottle, the cork of which was 1 stuck very awry in the neck. A waiter appeared at the door. "Did you ring, sir?" J "Fetch the manager! At once! This man is dead!" , The 'waiter stared, then disappeared . at the double. The manager came in a minute, the waiter behind him. '. "What's this?" lie asked, apparently suspecting some practical joke. ; "This man is dead. He was seated | here when I came in—" "Fetch the hotel doctor," cried the • manager, and the waiter ran off again. ' The manager rushed across the court and closed both doors, pushing the bolts into the concrete floor. He was a man of efficiency. "Wait until the doctor 1 comes before you tclj me anything," he 1 said. It may have been a warning or merely a. precaution; his eyes did not ; look at Foster as he spoke. The hotel doctor came. He examined the lifeless form, and looked at the manager curiously. "Send for the police," he said. "Would | you mind giving us your name, sir? We'll want your statement shortly." Fo."Acr handed him his card, and the hotel doctor's manner changed at once. Foster pointed to the coffee cups and the small bottle. "What do you make of it?" he asked. The hotel doctor withdrew the cork, sniffed at the contents, wetted his finger and gingerly touched his tongue with the tiniest amount. Next moment he went over to the fountain and rinsed his mouth out several times. "Strychnine!" he said quietly. "We can't touch him until the police have had a look. See how he is crumpled up." A policeman came, and with him an inspector. They heard the story, Foster giving his version of how lie saw the uian as he entered the palm garden. "There aro two cups of coffee there," remarked the inspector pointedly. "Ask the waiter why," replied Foster. The waiter could explain. The man had come into the palm garden with a lady and had rung for coffee. The waiter knew the man's face quite well, he had seen him in the hotel since the previous day, he thought, or perhaps it was only since that morning. "Do you know his name?" asked the inspector of the manager. "If he has our key on him we'll see how he registered—if he is a guest, sir. I think I remember him meeting a youug lady in the entrance hall this afternoon. She was one of our guests " "Her name?" Foster's heart almost ceased to beat. The manager spread his hands wide in apologetic inability to answer offhand. They would find out, he said. "Let's try to establish his identity first," went on the inspector. To his constable he said: "Fetch a hand ambulance and we'll get him to the mortuary. I shall want the names and addresses of all who were liere or saw him; especially the person who made the discovery." Foster gave his name and address. The hotel doctor gave his name also. "What do make of it?" asked the inspector. "Looks like suicide, hey ?" "I don't think there is any doubt, inspector. Maybe you'll find a letter or something in his pockets that will explain." They searched for a hotel key, but there was none; nor was there any letter. They took the body away, and Foster went back to Shiriey. It was past dinner time when he arrived, and the blinds of the dining room were not drawn. From the drive he saw Mrs. Gibbs, Maud Barron and William Hughes seated at the table. They had finished their meal. Foster took off his coat and hat in the hall and walked quickly into the room. As he entered Maud rose eagerly, Hughes languidly, and Mrs. Gibbs with an exclamation of welcome. Foster disregarded the various ways in which his presence was met; he had the feeling that lie had burst in during a private discussion, but he was not in the mood to stand on ceremony. "Miss Barron, I want to speak to you for a moment, please." She smiled, blushing, and her eyes sparkling. "Won't you come and have some dinner first, doctor? You must be famished—" "T wish to see you at once." "Are you going to scold me for running off —" Then she stopped, for his face told her that he was not inclined to meet her light-heartedness/ "What is it?" she asked. "Speak!" "Alone, please." He saw Hughes grind his teeth, but he did not care for Hughes just th-sn. He motioned to Maud and she glide:! towards the door. He pointed the way to the morning room and closed the door behind them. "Miss Barron, I am in a very delicate position. Some explanations—" "Oh, doctor, don't be angry. I am so sorry I have given you any anxiety and trouble. Mrs. Gibbs has just been telling me —before Mr. Hughes came in— and—" ■ "Never mind any trouble I have had. There is something much more serious than' that. Who was that nian who was with you to-day in the Viceroy Hotel?" She started, and her face went white. "I have been to the Viceroy Hotel, Miss Barron, I saw you there with this man. I traced you there by the letter which you tore up and threw into your 1 waste paper basket. I went to find you—" "You saw me?" she cried. "Had I 1 known vou were there—" 1 "Well?" I "I would have welcomed you at once. (.1 Why didn't you come and speak to me?" 1

"You did not give me much opportunity, I fear." '"But I have been at the Viceroy , since—" I "You left rather hurriedly to-day." "That is true. I wanted to get back jus soon as possible. Had I seen you I would have asked you to join us, for I need you a great deal." I Her frankness was disarming, but he | was going to get to the bottom of this, no matter what it cost. She saw his | expression harden. "There is so much to tell me," she cried. "You have hurt your neck. What [did you find out at the hospital? Tell me if you discovered anything about my father—" "I'll talk of that afterwards. First I will tell you how and where I saw you at the Viceroy Hotel." He told how ii> had seen her with the man, how he had waited for some time before going into the palm court to find her. "You had gone," he said, "but this— this friend—was still there. I asked him j where I could find you. He did not answer me." "But lie could have told you. He kne>v I had gone home." "He could not tell me, Miss Barron." "Why 1" "He was dead." "Dead!" If he expected her to take it coolly lie was mistaken. She shrank from him, unbelief in her eyes, but gradually the unbelief gave way to horror, and the horror to utter devastating realisation. She staggered and would have fallen, but he caught her and held her, looking; into her face. He held her at arm's length. "Dead?" she repeated, wailing; her face like parchment. "But it is impossible." "It is true. I found him in his chair, Dead. Who was this man?" "He was my brother!" She went limp and fell back in a swoon. Typed in Red. Next day Maud was confined to her room with Mrs. Gibbs. Just before dinner, Foster went up to see her. It was evident that the wa* in no tit state to go down. He looked at his watch. He had to consider her, for she wan his patient. She raised he: 1 face, all tcarstaincd and haggard. "Elsio Montcith ought to be back soon." "Klsic Montcith!" "She. telephoned that she would be hero for dinner. She can sit with me until-Mrs. Gibbs has dined. Yes, I will have something up here. You may tell them, but como back at once, I have something to say to you." lie went off to inform the servants, and as ho passed through the hall observed that there was a bulky envelope arrived for him. Stuffing it into his pocket, he went upstairs again. The main thought that was troubling hint was the return of Elsie Monteith. What would be the result of his meeting with her? He had so much to consider before he met her. His suspicions were flaming high again; he wondered if she would deny having been on the roadway when he was attacked, whether she would deny having sent the telegram?

Ho found Maud Barron had made n;i effort to pull herself together in hirt absence. She was standing in front of the fire looking into the red glow, h«v hands clenched tightly at her sides. "They arc sending up something for you to eat right away," he said. "Dinner is about due." "Has Elsie arrived?" "I did not see her." "You told Mrs. Gibbs?" "Yes. She will send Miss Monteith when you feel steadier. I will not go down until you are all right. Miss Monteith can come then." She turned her head as a knock came to the door. It was her maid with a tray of eatables. Not a word passed between Foster and her until .she had taken some food. "Dr. Foster, there is a great deal that you ought to know. I have come to the conclusion that it is time you knew." "As you please, but if there is anything thnt will give you pain " "Ah, that doesn't matter any more. I have endured as much as anyone can endure. Are you interested in my story? Do you want to hear?" "I want to hear anything that you think will be of use to me in the problem we are faced with. I realise that your father's murderer has not yet been brought to book." She gave a little cry; and the shade that passed over her face told him that she had not forgotten cither." "And there is my brother's death—" "And some other things, Miss Barron. Just tell me what you want to say in your own way. I shall ask any questions if T want to." "If only I could get at the secret of the green ghost! Everything has started with that. Yes, Tam sure of it. I ehall start from the beginning. You knowthat some time ago my father quarrelled with a man whose ghost he said was haunting him 1" "Yes, I know that." "But do you know that this man was tho father of William Hughes?" "The ,father of Hughes?" She nodded, watching him closely and drying her eyes as she warmed to the subject. "It was Hughes and his father who were really, I believe, at the bottom of my brother turning out as he did. It was they who caused him to run away from home and end as he did. It was they, I tell you, who really sent him to prison." "To prison ?" It was a pitiful story she had to tell and was, briefly, the story of a young man's waywardness, of his entanglement with the cider Hughes, of the working of an older, keen, unscrupulous brain 011 the impressionable nature of a youth. And having got him into their power the two, Hughes and his father, began openly to deride their victim's father. At length Robert Barron was sent to prison for crimes of which Maud had never believed him capable, crimes which he himself constantly denied. But though Maud had moved heaven and earth to clear her brother there was one point that stood out as a barrier, and that item could only be cleared up by a confession from the elder Hughes. He knew the situation and played on it. (To be continued daily.)