The Third Man

Huntly Press and District Gazette, Volume XVIII, 13 November 1931, Page 4

The Third Man

By

C. K. THOMPSON

(Copyright.)

„ “What of the mysterious third party? I’m convinced that there was a third man at the show, otherwise how do you account for the double killing? I dismiss the theory of suicide in the case of the second man. Supposing he did chop the Judge’s head off, I’m blessed if I can see how lie could chop his own cheek like he did. It looks like as if both men were felled with one gigantic sweep.'’ “By that Gurkha kukri?” “Maybe so,” said Bassington, “but it was clenched in the unknown man’s hand, and I cannot believe that the third party had time to shove it there and make his escape.” “He couldn’t have made his escape . began Green, testily. “1 was watching the place for five minutes before I came in here. Of course, if the fellow had knowledge of I his house, he could have lain hidden somewhere until the coast was clear, but that, doesn't seem to convince me.” Bassington did not reply. Instead, he subjected the old clock to a close scrutiny. There was a small, ornate ruler on the desk and his measurements revealed the fact that the clock was six feet high, two feet, wide ami two feet broad. The face measured only six inches in diameter. “Plenty of space for a man to hide in,” he mused. “What about the works?” asked Green, impatiently. “Most of the works would be underneath the face with only the pendulum swinging inside.” “Well, say we bust the thing open then and prove it,” retorted the de-tective-sergeant. Bassington smiled a little at his colleague’s impatience and began a further examination of the front of the • lock. lie could not discover any keyhole 'nor sign of hinges in the front panel, but just underneath the clock face he found a small, circular hole. Without speaking he crossed to the table and pressed the bell. When tho maid arrived he shot a terse question at. her. “Yes, Mr. Bassington, there is a key to that. I think it is in that righthand drawer,” she said. Investigation revealed a key which bore a striking resemblance to the opener of a sardine tin, except that it was minus the slit at the end. Grossing to the clock, the inspector inserted the key and, with a turn of the wrist and a pull, opened a small door about six inches square. Glancing inside, he could discern the works of the clock. They were lilted just under the face in a small cavity, in the bottom of which was a slit through which the pendulum rod protruded downwards. With a dissatisfied grunt tie shut the door and returned the key to the maid. “Does this bottom part open at all?” lie asked. The girl shook her head, decisively. “No, sir,” she said. “I heard the Judge say that, it was never meant to he opened—that all clocks llko that had solid interiors.” “Do you mean to say that this bottom part is just solid wood?" asked Green, incredulously. “His late Honour said so,” returned the maid, demurely. “Well, he ought to know,” said the inspector, whose respect for his brother’s knowledge of antiques was profound. The two men spent a great deal of lime in the study, but their investigations did not reveal much. Before they departed the inspector sent for Ayesha and when she came to him he said: “What are you going to do, sweetheart? You cannot stay in litis house, it least, not for some months to come, I guess, and, being a crusty old bachelor, I cannot ofTer you the hospitality of a home I do not poscss. Had you hotter not visit your Aunt Ethel for a lime?” The girl nodded listlessly. “I must get away from this house, i’ncle Bill,” she said, “but I won’t go until after poor father’s funeral.” “I did not expect you to, my dear. I will see that you are not called as a witness to the inquest, so run along up to Maitland and forget this tragedy,” said the inspector, kindly. A conference between Superintendent Perry, Green and the inspector took place immediately on their return to headquarters. Perry had a little information for them. “We’ve had the Indian weapon tested,” he said. “Only one set of finger-prints were found on it and they belonged to the dead man, as yet unidentified.”

“Then that kukri did not do the killing?” asked Green. Perry looked at him significantly. “I think we can safely put that from *nir minds. lat least am convinced of Ihe third man in the room,” he said, impressively. Bassington reported his conversation with Stumpy Phegan and Green his chase after Hammersmith. Perry clicked his tongue regretfully at the latter intelligence, hut, nevertheless, he congratulated Green on his foresight in pursuing the car. The superintendent smiled slightly when he heard Bassington’s theory concerning the grandfather clock, hut was sympathetic. The deliberations of the conference were suddenly interrupted by the pealing of the telephone-bell. Perry answered it. His conversation lasted a few minutes, during which time he issued curt instructions to his unseen interlocutor. Replacing the receiver, he turned to Bassington. “That was the man you put on to 1 watch Stumpy Phegan,” he said. “He tells me that Stumpy has just left the 1 house, bearing a huge suitcase and a furtive air. Nettleton spoke from ! Central and it appears that Stumpy has ' just taken a ticket for West Maitland. The train goes in ten minutes. You heard me tell Nettleton to follow ! Stumpy even if he goes to the end of ! the earth.” “There is one bright spot in this 1 case,” said Green, “and that is the 1 unfamiliar limited scope we have.” 1 “Don’t know exactly what you 1 mean,” confessed Perry, “but, anyhow, Nettleton is going to stick to Phegan.

like glue, Maitland or no Maitland.” CHAPTER V. Three days later Ayesha Bassington sat in a northern-hound train at Central Station and gravely conversed with her uncle as she awaited the signal for departure. The girl was dressed in black, but even this sombre hue could not detract from her charms, while the tragedy itself, bringing with it the unwonted gravity, gave an air of added grace to her face. The train was a fast one and not crowded. By great good fortune the girl had managed to secure a firstclass compartment to herself, for which she was thankful. The though! of boisterous companions was Very distasteful to her. Suddenly there came to their waiting ears Hie shrill whistle of the guard. Inspector Bassington hurriedy kissed the girl and silently pressed her hand. No word was spoken—there was no need of conversation. These two understood each other perfectly. With a sigh, the girl listlessly picked up a magazine as the train slid from the platform on its long journey, but she could not fix her mind on the printed pages. She gazed out of the window on the sunlit panorama which Hit ted rapidly past, but she gazed on it unseeingly. As in a dream she heard the door of the carriage open and shut at Strath field, but it was not until the train was nearing Hornsby that she became aware of another occupant of the compartment. It was a man and he was gazing at her profile in undisguised admiration. Ayesha stared at him and he bad the grace to blush slightly. Then she turned her eyes aw r ay and resumed her unseeing contemplation of the landscape. Suddenly a quiet, whimsical voice broke in on her thoughts. “Excuse me, madame," it said, “but have you any objection to my smoking? Not a foul pipe or an obnoxious cigar, but a small cigarette.” “This is a non-smoking compartment,” she said, in a low voice, without looking at him. “That’s so,” he replied, in a voice of wonder, as if he had just discovered the fact. “Sorry. I suppose I must forego it,” he spoke, regretfully. Ayesha turned and looked at him. She saw a humorous glint in his eyes and wondered what was amusing him. She was in no mood for promiscuous train acquaintanceships, and decided to put this stranger in his place at once. “You may smoke, if you wish,” she said, “but on one condition.” “And that is?” he inquired, eagerly. “That you refrain from addressing me or annoying me further,” she said, icily, and looked out of the window again. The sudden movement dislodged the magazine, which fell to the floor. The handsome stranger hastily retrieved it and handed it to her. She thanked him in distant tones and placed it on the Beat beside her. Then she became aware of Hie fact that this man was making weird signals at her. What could be. be playing at? As if in answer to her thoughts, he whipped a pencil from his pocket and wrote a few words on a piece of paper which he passed to her. She took it and read: “Since I am forbidden to speak to you, I write. May I borrow your magazine? It will hold my attention and help me to refrain from annoying you.” She crumpled the paper in a ball and threw it on the floor, but handed him the book. lie did not attempt to read it, and she again became conscious of his gaze. She deliberately turned her back on him. When the train crept out of Hornsby she stole a look at her companion and noticed that he had changed his seat. Up to this time he had been silting at the window facing the engine, and on the left while she sat in the same position but on the right. Now he was sitting on the opposite seat and facing his former position. It was while the train was rushing down the Incline from Mount Golah that it happened. Without any warning there was a tremendous crash. To the girl’s horrified eyes it seemed as if the opposite wall of the compartment was rushing to meet her. Involuntarily she ducked tier head, but something struck her and she knew no more. It seemed as if hours had passed before she regained consciousness, with a head that throbbed terribly. She was lying on the side of the railway track and—and in the arms of the preposterous stranger. All around her was a scene of desolation. Men hurried to and fro rescuing the injured. She tried to wrench herself away from this man, but her senses were muddled and, after a few efforts, she closed her eyes and remained passive. Presently she felt herself lifted in a pair of strong arms and carried a short distance. Now she was alone. Dazedly she sat up and looked around her, slowly realising that she had been in a train smash. To her came a kindly stranger who inquired how she felt. “You were lucky, Miss, ’ he said, when she informed him that she felt better. “Your gentleman friend had you out of that compartment in a trice and just.in time, too. The carriage is a wreck and was the only one that caught on fire. If you had been there alone you would have been ashes now.” She shuddered at the thought and felt ill. Her companion was still talking. “He’s down there, now, working like a dozen men, helping ’em pull the rest of them out. We hit a goods train coming up the grade head-on. It was lucky for us that she was only going slow or there would have been a hell of a mess—begging your pardon for the expression,” he said, and left her. She struggled to her feet and began to walk towards the engine. Heaps of splintered wreckage surrounded her. From a hurrying official she learned ' that a relief train was ready to take ' the passengers on to Newcastle, and, with a sigh of thankfulness, she made ] her way towards It. i (To be continued). ]