“The Little Grey Woman”

Franklin Times, Volume XIX, Issue 138, 27 November 1929, Page 2

“The Little Grey Woman”

A FASCINATING STORY OF THE UNDERWORLD.

Copyright

(BY AIDEN DE BRUNE)

CHAPTER XIV. The car moved slowly clown the road and turned into Martin Place. Jim Burlc stood, hat in hand, watching it, a little smile twisting his lips. Margaret Venne and Doris Lyall! And Doris Lyall was the girl to whom Denys Fahney was engaged! Involuntarily, he took a few steps in the direction in which the car had travelled: then stopped and shrugged his shoulders. For the time he must put the girl out of his mind. Perhaps later. ! would be able to deal with her. He hoped so, for her bright young beauty has fascinated him. For the first time he could remember, he wanted a woman; wanted her badly and for herself, alone; not for any material benefit she could bring to him. Suddenly, he looked down, holding out his hands before him, a grim smile on his lips. There was nothing wrong with his nerves; his hands were steady as rocks. Yet, but a few minutes before he had struck a man to death.

Burle turned abruptly on his heels and walked in the direction of King Street. At the corner of the street he again held out his hands, surveying them, quizzically. His nerves were quite steady—completely under his control —and he must use them. What were his chances for, and against detection? Escape? A little laugh came from between his set lips. Did he have to think of escape? Had he anything to fear? Cerlach was dead. Had he left anything behind to point to his murderer ?

The hyperdermic needle was in the dead man's hand. The slight puncture, through which the poison had spurted into the dead man's veins, had been placed fo give the appearance of suicide. The dead man's fingerprints w r ere on the little black case, lying on the desk. There was nothing to show the man had been murdered. There was nothing to point to him as the murderer, except . . . Ailsa Rae! The woman was his one weak spot. If Ailsa spoke? If she told the detectives that she had left him in the office with Cerlach while she went to attend to some customers in the main shop? But, would she do that? Burle laughed again. He could trust" the woman! Ailsa would not say anything to incriminate him. Her interests were- too greatly bound up with his.

What other danger had he to fear? He had come from the office to the beauty parlor. Ailsa had seen him enter through the door opening on the corridor. He believed Margaret Venne had also seen him enter. But, he held her, by the power of the drug. Had Doris Lyall also seen him enter, from the direction of the office? If she had, what then? He would say he had left Cerlach in the private office, awaiting Ailsa's return. Cerlach had called on the woman many times, previously. She was a customer of him. There could be nolh ing strange at him being in her office —there was nothing the police could find to connect him with the man's death.

No. He was safe! From the moment he had walked out of the office alter casting one searching glance at the sombre figure on the floor —the wide-open eyes staring unseeingly up at the ceiling—he had not betrayed himself by one sign of agitation. He had been entirely normal. He had escorted .Margaret and Doris Lyall to I heir ear and, when it had driven off, had lingered in the vicinity of the shop. Nowhere could he trace a

false step. And Ailsa! lie almust laughed aloud. Ailsa would go back to her office and discover —il. She would raise the alarm and send for the police. They would come —and declare the man bad committed suicide.

The police! Inspector Knox had been outside the shop when he had left with the two women. What was the man doing there ? Had he followed Ailsa and him to the beauty parlors ? No, that was impossible! Cerlach would have seen him lingering about when he came to the shop, and warned him. .Had the man followed Cerlach? That was more probable. But, for what reason?

At the corner of Pitt and King Street, he hesitated. He had not been to his offices that day. There was only the typist and the office boy, in charge. He must go there before the day closed.

He turned in at the saloon bar of an hotel and called for brandy. The strong spirit surged through his body, causing a glow of exhilaration. What had lie to fear? With firm step he turned again to the street. A cruising taxi was passing and he raised his stick. From the edge of the pavement a lounger sprang forward to hold open the door. Mechanically, he felt in his pocket for a coin and held if out to the man. As their hands met something was slipped into his palm. His fingers closed on it, automatically. '■

A sudden terror shook him as he gazed down on the screw of paper in Ids hand. He leaned forward, to call to the driver to stop. Me wanted to turn back and question the man. Again he glanced down at the paper, unfolding it with trembling fingers. It bore only four words, written in penell: "The Little Grey Woman."

With a gasping sigh, he sank back on the cushions. The Little Grey "Woman I What did that mean? How had she contrived that paper should come into his hands, at that, 11101110111? A mortal terror shook him. Three limes papers, bearing those words, had been slipped into his hands, by persons unknown lo him. Each time their advent had followed or preceded some disaster. What was to happen this time? Gould the Little Grey Woman have knowledge of what had happened in the Beauty Parlor's office? That was impossible! Al the door of the building in which were his offices, he alighted with difficulty, thrusting some coins into the driver's out-stretched palm. He lurched through the entrance, staggering drunkenly to the lift. There he steadied himself by holding on to the sides of the car, while the attendant whisked him up to his floor. In the corridor, and safe from observation, he leaned against the wall, trying to steady his reeling senses. He dared not go to his offices, pass under the critical gaze of the girl typist, in that state. She would notice, perhaps comment on his condition to someone. He waited, and gradually the fit of terror passed. Leaning heavily on his stick he moved slowly towards the office door. In the room ho tried to nod carelessly and curtly. Under the girl's gaze another sudden tremor shook him. He staggered on, into his private room. Hardly had he seated himself at his desk when the girl knocked and entered.

"What's the matter?" he looked up sharply—suspiciously. "The mail, Mr Burle." The girl eyed him curiously. "Mr Burle, aren't you well?" "Well?" Suddenly his eyes caught his reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall. He had forgotten to remove his hat. "Yes—that is—no. I . . .I've had a shock —nearly an accident. Run down, y'know." The girl nodded, understandingly. Burle rose, stiffly, from his seat and thrust his hat on to a peg. "Anything happened?" "A few orders, Mr Burle." She hesitated. "I attended to them. Mr Oerlach hasn't been here, to-day." "Cerlachl" He could not repress the start at the mention of the man's name. "No? Didn't you know? He met with an accident, last night. It . . . It's in the newspapers. Someone tried to shoot him. He won't be in for a few days, perhaps." The girl nodded and left the room. Burle remained seated, watching his reflection in the glass. What had he said? He knew he had spoken wrongly. Although he could not realise how. Woukl the girl remember what he had said? He half-rose from his seat to go into the outer office and explain, but dropped back again. No, that would be foolish. lie must let the matter rest.

He slit open the envelopes of the small mail and mechanically skimmed the enclosures. There was little of moment in the letters. The business in York Street was a blind. The secret, underground, work that brought in the ever-increasing flood of gold, was conducted elsewhere.

Oerlach would come back to. those offices. In an hour or so, perhaps immediately she left the building, the girl would learn of the man's death. Would she connect that with bis manner —with the careless statement he had made'.' lie struck the bell, sharply.

"Miss Saunders." He spoke in his old slow, abrupt tones. "I should have told you Mr Cerlach is ill. It is possible he will not be able to attend here for several days. I shall have to do his work. Can you run the offices while I am out?" "Of course, Mr Burie." The girl flushed, witli pleasure. "There is not a Jot to do you know." - "It will mean extra work." The I drug-master spoke carefully. "11l remember that. Do your best and don't talk. Understand? Good. Between ourselves, I'm not too satisfied with Mr Cerlach. He may not come back. In that case I shall continue the outdoor work, leaving the office to your management. That suit you? Goodl I pay well, y'know, Miss Saunders and —I pay for a still tongue, as well as good work. Get me? Well get to it!"

When the girl had left the room he closed and locked his desk. Picking up his hat he turned to go out through his pi'ivate door to the corridor. No, he must not use that way. He must follow his usual . custom and go through the main offices. He would have to speak to the girl again—and he had come to fear her bright, inquisitive eyes! As he turned at the door, his eyes fell on another room. It was the door of the room Cerlach had occupied. What lay in that room. He would have to see, that night! He would have to search the room. What had 'Cerlach left there? (To be continued on Friday).