The Pretty Widow

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 164, 14 July 1939, Page 15

The Pretty Widow

..By ROLAND DANIEL

I I whs a glorious day. The sun was * Hhinmg brilliantly. the skv was of the deepest of deep blues, and the sea ""H-h was as calm as the proverbial mi II pond—seemed Hliniiet as if it desired to apologise for disturbing the e of tlmt lovely morning. « s it tiny wavelets, with a sort of '■"•■tig sound, on the shingle Imrelv l'«H a dozen yard* away from theiV I

I lnldenly the woman reached out and , laid her hand on that of the man next :to her. Slowly her linger* began to I t« me into his. ! 'lii-morrow." Socrates," she half ; whispered. Sicnites Wilson turned to the woman I next to him. "To-morrow, darling," he | replied, and. lifting her hand to his li,,s. lie Ui.-o.ed her finger tips. _ do really love me, don't you?" 'My darling. I adore you. I think we 11 he very happy together." And for a woman quite 40 years of age the lady managed to blush quite prettily. ou've arranged everything?'' asked tlie man. and to a keen observer it would have lieen noticeable that there wa« a slight trace of anxietlv in hit* lone. I lie woman nodded her head. "hverythiiig." she replied. ''This afternoon the bank will have the moiiev ready tor me to draw out."' "I'ive thousand pounds—wasn't that Ihe sum you told me!" And again there was a trace of anxiety in the man's voice. "I'ive thousand pounds, darling. It's my little all." she added a moment later, and in doing so failed to hear the little .-igh of satisfaction the man had been unable to keep back. "I'll call for you in the morning. Ruby. We'll go straight up to town and get. married. I've aranged for a special license, and then away by aeroplane to Cannes to spend a most wonderful honeymoon in my little villa. Won't it all be just lovely?" And the woman agreed that it would. About an hour after the above conversation had taken place, that inter feting and mysterious person—whose priiK'ipal hobby in life was endeavouring to place behind prison bars criminals whom the police found it dillicult to lay their hands upon because they kept themselves within the law, and who culled himself "The l'cinover"'—was strolling along the front of Littleplace-on-Sen where he had arrived that morning to spend a quiet holiday, when lie ennie face to face with a. somewhat flashily dressed, self satisfied looking ma n of about 30. "Ureat heavens above, if it isn't my old friend, Socrates!" "The Hemover'" stopped dead in front of the man who Itad been approaching him. so bringing that individual to a standstill also. "Ami what is little Socrates doing at Littleplaec-on-Sea r 1 should have thought it w»s far too quiet a spot for him to find anything interesting in." The man addressed looked at t lie speaker ami there was a frown on his face as he replied: "Sir, I don't think I have the honour of your acquaintance." "The Remover" smiled. "There are some people 1 know who wouldn't call it an honour, but an infernal nuisance to know me at all." replied "The Remover"' with a smile. "But surely little Socrates cannot pos<4Fbly! Mve''forgotten the. man whose evidence got him his Taet three years' stretch. I think, if I remember correctly, you uttered something quite uncomplimentary as to tny personal character directly after the judge had sentenced you." If looks could liavc killed, Socrateß Wilson would have struck "The Remover" dead at his feet. "I remember you now," he said with a snarl. You're the damned interfering swine who cuills himself 'The Remover/ " "Quite right, Socrates, my lad. I'm delighted to see your memory has not failed you entirely." "Co to the devil 1" growled the other, "and I've only one wish in my heart, Mr. Remover, nnd that is that one of these day* you meet a nasty sticky death." "Be that as it may, Socrates, my old friend, I trust that before that time comes I shall have the pleasure of reading your obituary in the newgpapers on the morning that they hang you by the neck until you're dead." Barely had "The Remover" gone his way a dozen paces before he felt himself touched on the shoulder. He turned swiftly, expecting the man he had been speaking to a moment before had come •back to add some more kindly wishes for his well-being. But instead of Socrates Wilson, however, he found himself facing a big, redfaced man with a grey, bristling moustache who greeted him with: "Coor lord! I thought it was you, Dick, but I wasn't sure." "Why. Major, how are you?" And "The Remover's" face lit Up with pleased surprise as he held out his hand. "And what on earth are you doing in this ontlandish little spot? I always thought it was about this time of the year you went to Monte Carlo." "So I always have done for the last five years," replied the Major. "But this year I thought I'd like to spend a quiet six months at this delightful little spot. I've got a small bungalow up at the end of Sea View; von must come along there and spend an evening with me. And now, may I ask what you are doing down here?" "The Remover" explained he had cdme down for a week's holiday. "I chose Littleplace-on-Sea," he said, "because I knew it was quiet nnd 1 would not lie likely to be bothered by a lot of people I didn't w»h to meet." "I trust you don't include me in the category of those you don't desire to meet," remarked the Ma jor. "Ootid lord, no! I'm tickled to death to see your jolly old beaming face. They tell me there's quite a good golf course somewhere about here. You and I, Major, must have a round one morning." "Surely, surely," replied the Major, and then in a "sort of hesitating tone of voice: "Excuse me, Dick. Don't think I'm being impertinent or anything like that, but was the man you were speaking to a moment or so ago an acquaintance of yours?" "What man?" asked "The Remover," nnd then, as he suddenly remembered: "Oh. of course you mean Socrates Wilson ?" "Yes. that's the fellow's name," snapped out the Major. "Is he a friend of yours?" "I should hardly class him as a friend. I've met him once or twice in places, that's all. Why do you ask me The Major's face took on an even redder hue than was its usual tint. His moustache appeared to bristle fiercely. "He's a bounder —that's what that fella is. A bounder, Dick—and I don't i cure a damn if you tell him what I've said." "And 1 don't suppose Socrates Wilson ■ would exactly burst into tears if I

Short Story

did. ' said "The Remover" with a laugh. "Now. Major, tell me—what precisely has this man done to get so under vour skin?" "Come and have a drink. l">ick.~~aiui 111 tell you. I always feel 1 require something to wash my mouth out whenever I have occasion to mention that snake in tlie grass." I believe 1 m going to hear something interesting about Socrates Wilson, thought "1 he Remover" to himself as lie and the Major crossed from the front towards a sign which read: Saloon Bar. "It s like this." explained the Major, "Jter they had ordered their drinks. " 1 lie fellu came down here about six weeks ago and had the infernal impertinence to worm his way into what little society we do possess. Not that lie was too willingly received, but damn it. lie's got a skin like a rhinoceros. I don't believe vou could insult the man. Hut that's not the worst of it. About a month ago lie had the colossal audacity to worm his way into the affections of the willow," "Ah. and who's the widow. Major?" I lie Remover' was becoming interested. Ihe widow. Dick, is an cxccedinglv charming and pretty woman who lives in the next bungalow to mine." All! muttered "The Remover" again, and waited. Anil this nincompoop, this bounder, has dared to steal away her affections." Sitoa .' them awav from whom. . lajor? ' asked "The Remover," with a whimsical look in his eve. I-rom inc. sir. me," snapped out the 'or. anil then in a half-faltering tone <•» voice: "Dick, my boy. just between vou and me. if that bounder hadn't stepped in with his insidious ways, 4 honestly believe Ruby and I would have been engaged by now." "Ah. so the lady's name is Rubv. and she's charming and pretty and 'a widow. Has she any money. Major?" Sir? said the Major, bristliii" all over. ••-Vow, now. my dear Major; don't ?et all hot up. Don't imagine for a moment I'm suggesting that you'd run after any woman's money. But I was .just wondering if there'was anvthing besides charm and good looks' that might attract Socrates Wilson." I lie Ma jor calmed down. Lookiit" "I lie Remover" earnestly in the face! be said: Dick, my bov, it's my opinion it's that five thousand pounds he's after." •"*" •• • ' said "The Remover" between his teeth. "She has five thousand pounds, has she?" Hni .. . ha! ' the Major spluttered a bit. "This is entirely between old friends. I'm not supposed to know, but Lambert told me." Lambert .' "I he Remover" arched hi* eyebrows. "And who's Lambert' Another of the lady's admirers?" Lambert, mv dear Dick, is our local bank manager, and he has, I „iav sav, the same opinion as I hold about the person were discussing, and the other night at the club he told me in confidence—a o< " ,H «lenee*l shouldn't break Dick except that I' know you can be ti usted that Ruby "had ordered him to realise on all her securities and that she was going to the bank this afternoon to draw It all out in hard cash. About five thousand pounds, Lambert said it would amount to. and it's my honest opinion she's going to hand ft over to that bounder, the little fool. - n 'l >' e t what can Ido to prevent her? -Nothing. , * o,nover ' thought of quite a lot of things he might do, but he vouch safed no opinion on that point. But he felt it was interesting to know at last the real reason Socrates Wilson sojourned in a spot like Lit-tle place-on-Sea. "Shell regret this intrigue; she 11 regret it. I know she will,' went on the Major. "But, damn it! Dick, what's the use of trying to warn a woman of forty when she imagines she's in love?" "So the charming and prettv and five-thousand-pounds' worth of Ruby is forty, is she?" sai<| 'The.Remover.' "Yes, yenI can quite understand it's difficult to argue with a woman of that age." "But, hang it, Dick. I love her—and it makes me see red to think she should fall for a bounder like that. Yet wimt can I do? f know nothing against l.he man—l wish I did. Why, damn it. I'd give my right hand for definite proof the fellow's a crook." 'The Remover' thought that if ever he had wished possess the light hand of the Major, he would have a very easy way to obtain it. But he offered no comment on the man's remarks, for he felt what he knew about Socrates Wilson would in no way help the situation were lie to inform the other. It is an undoubted fact that the Major would have been materially interested in his friend'# behaviour after they h;id parted, had fie been able to witness it. for the first thing he did was to cross again on to the front and have a conversation with one of those photographers who snap youf pictures as you walk

along and then give you a ticket to call at some shop the following day where you can buy the reproduction of yourself with your arm about your best girl—or somebody's else's wife, as the case may be—for the small sum of sixpence. To this strolling camera man 'The Remover' gave a certain sum of money and received a promise ill return. That the promise was fulfilled was proved by . two instances that happened later in the day. The first was the remark of a | pretty woman of about forty to a man: "Oh, Socrates, did you see'/ That man took our photograph." And the delivery to "The Remover" at his hotel of a photograph of a man and woman walking arni-in-ann on the front of L.ittleplace-011-Kea. "George," said 'The Remover' to his , manservant after he had examined the photograph and written a letter. "I tear 1 shall have to break your spell of taking the sea air and send you up to town by the night train. You will deliver this envelope by handing it to the persoii it is addressed to. You had better stay at some hotel for the night, a-' our house is shut up. and you can catch the first train back again in the morning. It leaves at seven o'clock and is due here at li'iie." "Very good, sir." said George, who wouid have made the same reply had his instructions been to make a journey to the other side of tile globe. Now it happened that Socrates Wilson was staying in the same hotel as "The Remover," and perhaps this was unfortunate for Socrates Wilson. About ten o'clock that evening "The Remover" was sitting in the smokeroom enjoying a cigarette and a whisky and soda when the liall porter came up to him and said: "He has given order to be called at half past seven, sir. Also, I have ascertained he has ordered a car from one of our local garages to pick him up here at ten minutes to nine, tlie car eventually to drive him to Ijondon." "Thank you." said "The Remover." 1 "and you might make a note that I desire to be called at seven o'clock." It was another glorious morning as "The Remover"' strolled along the front ill the direction of Sea View. Directly • opposite the pretty widow's bungalow was a glass shaded shelter. "The Remover" sat himself down 011 it, facing ' the sea so his back was to the road — not such an inconvenience as might have - been supposed seeing lie almost imute- • diately took from his pocket a fair--1 sized mirror which gave him an excel- ' lent view of all that was taking place J at his back. In his mirror "The Remover" saw a car drive up. and out of it got Socrates : Wilson, who immediately walked up the narrow path and knocked at the widow's door. Turning the mirror a little "The Remover" could ju>t manage to see the major's face gazing through the window of his bungalow. A smile came to "The Remover's" lips as looking at his watch he rose to his feet at the ■ ame time. Two minutes to nine. Now there was only one thing to do— delay the departure of Socrates Wilson and the pretty widow. A taxi should | reach Sea View from the station in five minutes and he guessed the i>erson he was expecting would waste 110 time. | Crossing the road, he made straight for the front door of the widow's bungalow and knocked. It was Socrates Wilson who opened the door and who would have immediately closed it in "The Remover's" face had not that man had the forethought to place his foot in the jamb. "Tut, tut, Socrates. Don't be rude and try to shut doors in people's faces," lie said as he pushed the door open and entered what was a sort of hall-sitting room. "Is someone going somewhere?" "The Remover" gazed on some bags piled up in the middle of the hall. "Who is this man, Socrates?" The question came in •: somewhat startled tones from the pretty widow. "The Remover" turned to the lady and bowed. ■ "A passing friend," he replied. "I don't know him. ,1 fartcy he must I be a madman," and Socrates Wilson stepped next to his lady love as if to protect her from" any harm. , "Socrates, Socrates; what a naughty , person you really are, disclaiming an old acquaintance like that and belying an old friend by suggesting he is not ' quite compos mentis. Xaughtv, naughty 01 you," atid "The Remover" shook his ' head disapprovingly. . Socrates, kindly throw that man out of my house." Socrates Wilson held his ground. Once some years previously he had seen "The ' Remover" tackle three tough* all at 1 once; he remembered vividly what happened to the threes—he had no wish for even a third of the damage to occur to himself. ' "Socrates, did you hear what I said?" The pretty widow's voice was raised in indignation. "Oh. yes, madam —he heard you all 1 right, but you see Socrates believes in ' discretion being the better part of valour. Besides, why trouble to have me thrown out. since I will be leaving I in a minute .or so of my own accord 7 i I am merely waiting the arrival of a . friend of our dear Socrates here." > The arrival of a friend? The police? Socrates Wilson'* face blanched. "The Remover.'" observing the change of colour, smiled. "Yes. Socrates, you'll be surprised." he said, and then added: "Oh. and by the way, has this charming but misguided ladv yet parted with that five thousand pounds she so foolishly drew out of the bank yesterday?" The startled expression which came over Socrates Wilson's face seemed to give "The Remover" hi* answer, for he went 011 quickly: "Ah. I can see she hasn't. The spoils were to be handed over after the marriage. eh? Well, well, even widows can be wise at times." "Socrates, are you going to . . . f" But before the widow could conclude, the sudden grinding of brakes as a taxi came to an abrupt stop outside the bungalow interrupted her, and a second or so later came a, violent knocking at the front door. It was "The Iteihover" who went to open it. The pretty widow appeared to be spellbound. Socrates Wilson was looking round for a means of escape. "The Remover" flung the door open. Xo policeman stood On the step outside, just an under-sized, ■frail-looking woman dressed in black. "Ah. srood morni'iip, Mrs. Socrates Wilson. You're jrst in time," wtfS "The Rem over's" jrreetin**. The frail-looking woman took oneJ look round; apparently she took in' the whole situation in that one glance,! Finally her gaze came to rest on the face of Socrates Wilson. "Soc," she pronounced the familiar! shortening of his name in the severest' of tones. "Soc. T have brought the children with me: they are in the taxi i outside, and that w ticking up tie perice. Are you coming?" And Socrates Wilson went. 1