THE KNIGHTSBRIDGE MYSTERY

Hawera Star, Volume XLV, 23 December 1925, Page 10

THE KNIGHTSBRIDGE MYSTERY

CHAPTER XVII. LAW AND LOVERS. It was all clone very neatly, very adroitly. The few nondescripts who hung about could scarcely have noticed it. Lovita, surprised, swung round, only to find his other arm gripped by a second man. Before he could offer more than a feeble protest he was hui ried along the street to a waiting taxi, into which he was somewhat unceremoniously bundled. It was a repetition of the arrest of Black Q. by the same two men, only in this instance they clung to his hands like a pair .of lovers; never let them go for an instant until he was ushered into the presence of the recording angel, who looked as though he had suddenly been awakened from a peaceful dream, much to his annoyance. During the brief journey to Scotland Yard Constantine had sat firmly wedged between his captors, who returned nothing but gruff monosyllables to his outraged protests. They were not men who wasted their breath in words. He had more than a suspicion of the identity of at least one of them, a suspicion.which was confirmed in the clear light of the room. “So Mr. Penbury,” he sneered, another of your clever sensational arrests. You ought to receive promotion for this.”

“Search him,” said Penbury to the ginger-haired man. “I protest —strongly protest!” But.no notice was taken, and he submitted with such grace as he could command. Indeed, he even seemed to find amusement in the ordeal once he recognised its inevitability; helped the searchers; commented sympathetically on their failure. F6r failure it proved, though they tested even the lining of his patent leather shoes. The recording angel nodded. Constantine beamed triumphantly as he readjusted his disarranged garments'.

“Now perhaps you will explain the meaning of this incredible- outrage?” He also commented on the arbitrary ! customs of the police with righteous indignation; promised a further inquiry which might not prove advantageous, to those who played fast and loose with personal liberty. Ginger Hair looked at Solemn Eyes, who stroked his chin reflectively. Constantine’s nose twitchled and twinkled. The recording angel, | remembering a former fiasco, dropped his pen. “You’re clever, Levita.” ‘''Sorry I can’t admit the same or you.” “I understand currants are still m great demand?” ‘ ‘ Did you imagine I carried them about with me? Pooh; never admit a woman to your counsels, Penbury; they’d cheat the devil. Come now, would a wise man trust -them-round the corner? I thought we were both wise men—until to-night. It seems one of us is not. I leave you to name'him.” Constantine was very much in the ascendant, though more triumphant than indignant. The sense of personal outrage faded perceptibly in contemplation of the inspector’s chagrin. And yet Penbury was looking at him in a way which did not leave him wholly care-free. He tried to read the meaning of that apparently vacant stare. A shallower observer would have seen nothing but vacancy, or palpable evidence of bewilderment and annoyance. But Levita was not a shallow observer. Indeed, whatever he might say to the contrary, he credited mankind, or certain portions of it, with an intelligence worthy of his consideration. Clearly there were other brains than his in the world. To achieve distinction, even in the importation of currants, one had to take this fact into account. Doubtless Penbury was more than a little surprised. Marjorie had told him all about her visit to the city, the rashness of which he reproved in no measured terms. Even her. “I wanted to help you, Michael,” was not sufficient palliation of the risk incurred. She did not dare make mention of painted face and darkened eyes. None the less he was bound to act on information received; and when he saw Levita stroll round to the stage door he was convinced that he had him at last. That Constantine’s sole importation consisted of currants and cigarettes would now be put to the proof. And he had once more drawn blank! Levita marked the hesitation and probably misread it. He smiled at Ginger Hair; even the recording angel did not escape his patronage. Then, he addressed Penbury. “I may take it that we have come to the end of this farce?” “I wonder?” “Naturally I shall not let the matter drop. This sort of thing must not be allowed to continue. Information derived from tainted sources” —Penbury’s face darkened ominously—“has caused you to commit one more un pardonable blunder. Your superiors will doubtless know how to appreciate and reward your efforts. I presume I am now at liberty to go ? ” For answer the inspector nodded to Ginger Hair, who immediately quitted the room. Levita clearly looked: “What nonsense now?” Looked blit received no reply. Once more the recording angel seized his pen. Constantine’s brows contracted; his - nose twitched but forgot to twinkle. Oppressive silence charged with infinite possibility. Apprehensive he watched the door, which presently opening admitted Ginger Hair and Nobby Wang. Apprehension rose to fever heat. .

“No need of an introduction?” said Penbury, looking from one to the other. “On the contrary,” Levita answered with an easy, though non-deceptive dignity, “there is every need if you think lam interested in this person. Who is he?”

“He doesn’t know you, Nobby?” “Him know me all li,” said the chow.

Penbury formally introduced them. “Mr. Constantine Levita, importer o£ currants, cigarettes, and other commolities; Mr. Nobby Wang, purvoyor of those commodities. ” “How much longer is this farce to continue?” Levita asked. “Tell us what you know of him, Nobby.” “You plomiso?” said the yellow man. “Nothing. But your speaking may help you. ’ ’ “Yon no send me back China?” “Take him away,” he said to Ginger Hair. “All li, I speak. Him velly bad man; sell cocaine. You get wallant; search; you find. No can dp with bad man like that. I plove evelything.

BY CARLTON DAWE (Author of “Desperate Love/’ “Euryale in London/’ “Virginia/’ etc.)

You no send me back China then? Though disjointed, it was a long and emotional speech for Nobby, which nothing but the fear of deportation count have wrung from him. feix month;retirement to one of the hospitable caravanserais of the country woulo have been borne with the stoic.-l equanimity of his race. Freedom lay bevond, freedom and pleasure. He knew that lie was in a tight corner; that punishment of a kind was due He like Constantine, came of a race of philosophers; but no philosophy cou-u rob deportation of its terrors kj*® London Town had provided Nobbp Wang with many joys. Of course risks had to bo taken, but glory is rarely achieved without them. He had the knowledge of many triumphs to sooth the severities of his present - position, the hope of.many more to come. Penbury looked at the Levantine, whose lips curled scornfully. “Farceur,” he sneered, and fool. I know nothing of this scum. What s the meaning of all this absurd playactimr? I’ll make you smart for this, blunderer, idiot! No wonder another man has been given your j«b. *oj discover the murderer of 1 oppy Y llton. I suppose you hope to cover up your failure by accusing innocent men, and getting scum like that as eviden . Evidently Nobby possessed pride of a sort, for he strenuously objected to being labelled “scum.” His little slicyes emitted ominous sparks! m excited, disjointed phrases he said enough to hang the swart Constantine. He was a villain of villains, scum of scum, beast of beasts, and plainly hinted that authority need look no farther than the Levantine for the murderer ot Poppy Wilton. , To all of which the inspector listened with the cold detachment of one scarcely interested in the matter. He let them talk; the recording angel recorded; Ginger Hair trifled with his little ginger moustache, ihea both were led away, Nobby Wang flinging a last appeal for non-deportation, Constantine Levita vowing vengeance for this unparalleled indignity. Penbury, a little later, posted a brief despatch to the anxious woman over m West Kensington. “There is likely to be a shortage o L currants from the Levant, ’ ’ it said. This information reached her by the first post on the following morning. Though knowing well enough what.it meant, she found it tantalising in its brevity. Yet it was like him; few words with the tongue, fewer with i pen. But he had Levita safe, and she felt justified of her act. He would now forgive the indiscretion since it had been productive of such good. He had said that the apprehension of the Greek meant the destruction of the whole gang. Once more he would be able to hold up his head. She thrilled at the thought. , But it was weary waiting until he came. Would he come? How could she say; how was she to know what such an eccentric would do? He might be detained on important duty; a dozen instances might combine to keep him away. Why hadn’t lie said more? Inconceivably she suffered while she waited. . Her heart stood still when at last she heard his knock. Though trembling absurdly she met him with a brave anxious face.

“f began to wonder if you were coming, Michael. ” “How could you think I wouldn’t? ' “I don’t know,” she confessed. “You were, and are, my first thought.” Precious words; precious words that made her tingle to the tips of her fingers. “You got my note?” “It was so brief.” “You understood?” “Yes.”

Then he told her the story in detail. She was amazed. The cunning of the little monster!

“He didn’t trust you, my dear.”“Is that to be wondered at, since even you doubted?” “And you think I still doubt?” “I don’t know what to think.” “It’s not doubt, Marjorie; it’s fear. ’ ’ “Fear?” she echoed. “Surely now— — ” He took her hand. “Not that way. My fear is because of you.” “Because of me?” she stammered. Why was her heart beating like this,’ almost choking her? Why did that touch of hi's hand, flying to her brain, cause such confusion? Helplessly shc ; stared at him, seeing him 'through a mist.

“I have no right to love you.” The words sounded like a hollow voice in the distance.- . “There is another woman?” ' 'No. ”

“Oh, my dear!” Insensibly she glided into his arms; .pressed her face to his breast; felt him kissing her hair; held up her mouth to him. “Precious, precious,” he said.

“Oh, my dear!” He was trembling fearfully. Now, hands on her shoulders, he would hold her at arm’s length, then with sudden intensity draw her to him. “I won’t let you go,” he said, “L won’t!-’'’ '“No.” , • “I love you! ” “Yes, yes.” “We must live for- each other.” “For each other.” “No matter what comes.” “No matter what comes.” She was but an echo of him; wanted to be no more than an echo. This strange lover! “Why shouldn’t we go away,” he said; “leave England? There’s nothing much for us here.” ‘ l l am ready. ’ ’ “You would go with me?”

“Anywhere.” “We can quickly get married in a registry office. You don’t want, the church?” “No." But, Michael; to leave now—in the midst of your triumph?” “You are my triumph,” he said, “and I have no right to you.” “Every right. It is I ” “S’scli!” He placed his finger oh her lips. Then, suddenly: “Marjorie look into my eyes.” “I am looking, dear.” “What do you see?” She saw nothing but their singular intensity, and told him so.

‘You are quite sure?” “Silly boy.” A very strange lover, she thought, but very dear. To go away with him, to some new land; to leave all unhappy lnemories behind! Thank God there would be no secret for her to hide.

Being a woman she wanted rivers, seas, oceans of love; would have sunk in it. Yet this eccentric lover of hers

burnt out his passion in one stupendous flame. Then he sat still among the ashes, thinking. Accustomed as she was to his moods, this, she thought, the strangest of them all. He talked of manv things, but no more of the ono thing. Only when he was leaving did he rouse himself. As they stood by the door he told her that she had made him happier than ho had ever hoped to be. Certainly a most strange lover.

(To be continued.)