“THE THIRD MAN.”
□ □ By C. K. THOMPSON.
CHAPTER 11. Bassington looked grave. “Someone’s due for a kick in the ribs,” he said. “Who was the escort?” “Constable Blackside they tell me.” “Hum.” Bassington toyed with a penholder for a moment. “It’s up to you Green to dig him up,” he said. “Don’t see it,” retorted the detective sergeant peevishly. “I arrested him, and if some flat-footed mutt chooses to let him go, why blame me?” “It’s a reflection on the whole force,” the inspector reminded him. Green made for the door, and paused with his hand on the knob.
“The most important thing is to warn Mary Brierley that her light of love is at large again, and also that young brother of yours,” he said grimly, and was gone. Detective-Inspector William Bassington strode briskly up the severelyneat gravelled path which led to the front door of his illustrious brother’s home. In response to his insistent ringing of the electric bell, the door swung open to reveal the diminutive figure of a maid. She smiled brightly when he saw who the caller was and stepped aside. “Horace in?” asked the inspector. “If so shoot me into him.” The maid informed him that the Judge was in his study but that she would not take the responsibility of showing even his own brother into his presence without first ascertaining if Ilis Honour would consent to see him.
Bassington smiled. He was quite aware of the fact that his brother was a domestic martinet. He insisted that his servants always refer to him as His Honour, and address him as Your Honour. The detective was inclined to waive the maid aside and dive straight into his brother’s august presence, but on second thoughts decided not to. The maid would suffer for it, he knew. As lie stood in the wide hall awaiting the summons, he thought hard. He was prepared to be laughed at for ids warning that Hammersmith was free and would certainly look the Judge up. Brother or not, he was determined to talk to Horace pretty straight. It had been his own suggestion that he personally warn Mr Justice Bassington. “I’m about the only policeman he will listen to for more than five seconds,” lie had informed the Superintendent when that officer had suggested sending Green along. “Leave brother Horace to me."
Green had heartily agreed with him. He himself did not want to beard the lion in his den. His Honour’s name was a by-word in police circles, and whenever a policeman entered the witness box in Bassington’s court, he did so in fear and trembling. The judge had a bitter tongue and used it, chiefly on Crown witnesses and always on the police. Why he should do this, no one had ever been able to discover.
It was thoughts such as these that coursed through the inspector’s mind as he waited the return of the maid. She was a devil of a long time, he considered.
“Guess I’ll bust in and see what’s doing,” he resolved at length and was on the point of making for the study when a musical voice spoke behind him.
“A penny for your thoughts, Uncle Bill," it cried. Bassington swung round with a smile on his face and confronted the owner of the voice. “You shouldn’t scare the wits out of your useless old uncle like that my dear,” he said with mock reproach. “I’ll tell your father about it.” Ayesha Bassington smiled. “I’m sure you wouldn’t like your only niece to get into an awful row,’ she said as she kissed him lightly. “Daddy would surely strap me hard if he knew that I was disturbing his brother’s peace of mind.” “I doubt it,” retorted the inspector with a slight snort. "You do not visit us much these days,” said the girl after a moment’s silence. “Aren’t we good enough for Uncle Bill now?”
Bassington looked at the girl affectionately. He had a very warm spot in his heart for this beautiful motherless niece of his, and at times felt rather sorry to think that she should be cooped up in this great house alone with her autocratic father. Ayesha was twenty and in his eyes, beautiful beyond description. To Inspector Bassington this girl was the very embodiment of radiant Australian girlhood, from the crown of her luxurious golden brown hair to the tip of her dainty shoe.
“Been very busy lately dear,” he said feebly. She pouted. “Too busy to look me up? Now Uncle Bill, if you were a younger man and not my uncle, I’d feel very much Insulted.” “If I were a younger man and not your uncle, my dear Miss Ayesha, I’d sleep on the doorstep,” he said gallantly. “Bless me, but I can’t understand why you haven’t been carried off by some sheik long before this.” . She reached forward and gently patted Uls cheek.
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“Oh Uncle, if father heard you say that he’d be very angry. I wish .. ” “His Honour will see you sir," came a voice from behind them and they turned to observe the maid. The inspector nodded and turned to follow her. When Ayesha made as if to do likewise, he waved her back. “Private and confidential my dear,” he said. “But I want to see Daddy . . .” she objected. “Leave it until later on, Ayesha. I must see him alone for a few minutes. It’s very important.” She nodded and smiled.
Bassington went straight to his brother’s study and surprised the learned Judge in the act of gazing abstractedly at a large old grandfather clock which stood in a corner. The thing was over six feet high and two feet wide and elaborately carved. The Judge looked up, with a start as his brother entered, but there was no welcoming smile on his face. The inspector expected none. Very gravely the Judge extended his hand and as gravely his brother shook it and sat down without invitation.
“How’s the business Horry?” he greeted. Mr Justice Bassington shuddered ever so slightly. Breezy talk always got on his nerves. Looking at him, the inspector could realise what a shock he must have got when Hammersmith begged him not to get out of his pram. He smiled to himself as the thought crossed his mind.
“I am very well, thank you William,” replied his brother in a precise voice. “And you?”
“Full of beans as hell’s full of devils,” said William deliberately and grinned slightly as the Judge’s frame shook.
“Sorry Horace,” ‘he said with a smile, “but you do invite it you know.” Horace did not deign to reply to such a statement. Instead he crossed to his desk and sat down. “You wished to see me?” he asked after he had settled himself comfortably. Without further waste of time, the Inspector told him of the reason for the visit and concluded with a warning that the Judge look after himself. He even hinted at police protection. Mr Justice Bassington was annoyed and showed it.
“William, this is ridiculous,” he exclaimed in irritated tones. “I am not going to say anything concerning the woeful lack of efficiency in a police force which allows a desperate criminal to escape from custody, but this I will say: I refuse absolutely to allow my house and property to be overrun with hordes of blundering police officials.”
“Listen to me Horace, and do be reasonable," said tbe inspector patiently. “Brother or not, your person must be protected. Think of the outcry that would be raised if a Supreme Court Judge was found murdered by a man "who he had recently sentenced to ten years’ gaol.” “Threatened men,” remarked the Judge tritely, “live long.” “Maybe so, he said, “but most threatened men do not have a Nemesis like this fellow Hammersmith on their tracks. I understand too, that Hammersmith has you set for something else besides the sentence you gave him.” He paused and looked at his brother curiously. “What have you been up to, Horace?" he demanded. Horace faced his brother sternly. “William I will not be spoken to even by my brother, in such a manner. I have been up to nothing, whatever you may mean. Ido not know this man Hammersmith. Even you will realise that one of His Majesty’s Judges would not associate with such persons as this fellow.” “Sure you didn’t pinch his girl?” asked the inspector coarsely. Mr Justice Bassington rose to his feet, outraged dignity oozing from him. He looked at his policeman brother in disgust and walked across the room until he stood facing the old clock. He looked at it for a moment and then he turned to face William.
“If you have come here to insult me William ...” he began, but the inspector waved an impatient hand. “Why not be human for a minute Horace?” he begged. “I tell you that this danger from Hammersmith is very real. Now what are you going to do? You had better let me send a couple of men along to watch the place. I promise you that they won t be in the way . .
‘‘l will not have any policeman watching me,” he said definitely and then changed the subject. “What do you think of this clock William? I am informed on very good authority that it is over a century old.” His brother interrupted him with dignity. Inspector Bassington looked at the clock absent-mindedly and asked if it would go. He seemed to have touched on a sore point for the Judge gave a distinct snort.
“At present, no, but that defect shall be remedied. It was only delivered to me this afternoon and an expert is visiting the house to-night to set it in motion. Wonderful work of art is It not?” ho asked.
“Beautiful,” said the detective absently. His brother’s passion for collecting antique rubbish did not inter-
est him. His thoughts were occupied with more modern affairs such as the probable murder of a Judge. He hoped that Green’s visit to Mary Brierley had been more successful. He guessed it would be and that Mary would pack her things and bolt immediately she heard that Hammersmith was free. He determined to have another try. “Well I’ll send those men along as soon as I get back to headquarters, he said as he stood up.
“You will do nothing of the kind, William,” replied Horace testily. “I shall complain to the Commissioner if you do.” The inspector shrugged his shoulders resignedly. “Have it your own way,” he said, and wished his brother goodbye. He retrieved his hat from the hallstand and beat a hurried retreat from the house. He did not want to meet Aycsha and submit to her questions concerning his visit. There was no need to frighten the girl by telling her that her father’s life was in danger, and he hoped that the danger would pass away. He had already decided to have two men watch the house discreetly but continuously in spile of his brother’s edict.
As he walked up the street he glanced at his watch. It was nearly six o’clock. Hammersmith had been at large about three hours and in that time as far as he knew, the city had swallowed him up. Putting himself in the man’s place, he decided that if he wanted to kill the Judge, he would attempt it as soon as possible. No, on second thoughts, he would lie low until the hue and cry had died down and then get his man. One thing was certain however and that was that his brother must be guarded in spite of himself.
Reaching headquarters he immediately sought an interview with his Superintendent and that official agreed with him that the house should be watched. As the superintendent remarked, old Bassington lived in such a self-created exalted atmosphere that he could not understand a common person wishing to do him harm. “I’m inclined to watch the dashed place myself to-night,” remarked, inspector Bassington. “I’ve got an idea in my head that things will move out that way to-night. It’s-what the Yanks call a hunch.
The superintendent nodded. “You can please yourself of course Bassington,” he said. “In any case, it is just as well that we put on a couple of efficient men for a few
nights at least. We’ve got to remember that a Supreme Court Judge is quite a big man in his way, and it would never do to have the job bungled."
Bassington agreed. “I’ll lake Green along with me," he replied. “If Horace spots us, he can’t very well slang his little brother and report him to the Commissioner. Mind you sir, I wouldn’t put it past him, but I guess he won’t do it.”
When the inspector put his proposition before Green, that detective received it without enthusiasm. He did not like the Judge, but duty came first and he merely nodded when the Inspector told him.
The clocks were striking eight o'clock when the two detectives arrived at- the Judge’s residence at Pott’s Point. The house was a blaze of light and the Inspector felt more content. They managed to find their way into the extensive grounds and began a silent survey of the lay of the land. The house was surrounded by a high wall over which an intruder would have to climb, always supposing that he did not do the obvious thing and enter brazenly by the front gate. (To be continued.)
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Bibliographic details
King Country Chronicle, Volume XXV, Issue 3369, 24 September 1931, Page 3
Word Count
2,258“THE THIRD MAN.” King Country Chronicle, Volume XXV, Issue 3369, 24 September 1931, Page 3
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