FIND THIS MAN

King Country Chronicle, Volume XXVII, Issue 4402, 8 June 1933, Page 6

FIND THIS MAN

By AIDAN DE BRUNE.

(All Rights Reserved.)

CHAPTER XIII. A knock came at the door, just as Ivy had finished dressing. She called a reply and Mary entered. “Ready, dear?” Then the girl added more quickly. “Get to the telephone. There’s someone asking for you. He won’t give a message.” “Who is it?” “Fred Powers. He seems to want you urgently. I tried .. .” Ivy ran out of the room and down the stairs. In the library she snatched up the receiver. “Miss Breton here. Is that Mr Powers?"

“The same, miss. Thought I’d call you up and tell you that the gent s at dinner, miss. First time I’ve had a chance of getting away from him.” “Where is he? At the Union Club?”

“No, miss. At the Palido.” Ivy wondered. She knew that Harold Pender was due at the dinner at the Union Club. Then, why was he dining at the Palido? She had placed his card opposite his seat at the club. Why did he want two dinners on the one night? She looked down at Her watch. It was a quarter past seven. A frown came on her brow. Here was something she could not explain. She turned to the telephone again. “What has Mr Pender done since you picked him up, Mr Powers?" “Got him soon after I went to the club.” The man laughed slightly. “I just managed to get my flag down before he got sight of my car. He hopped, in and told me to go to Tinker & Tinker. You know! The place you told me to drive you to this morning. He stayed there quite a while and when he came out he had a sheet of paper in his hand. Slipped it into his pocket as he jumped into the car."

“He had told you to wait.” “He hadn’t miss; but I waited. I thought he might be suspicious when he found me there still and made some excuse that the engine wasn’t turning over right. He only grunted and asked me if it was well enough to drive him to ‘Lome, florists’.”

Ivy gasped. “Would you know what he wanted there?”

“He came out with a big box of flowers, miss, and put them in the car. Told me to take them down to the Palido and leave them there for him. Sadi that if I gave them the box they would know what to do with it.”

“Strange!” Ivy murmured the word to herself; but the man at the other end of the line heard her.

“Not so strange as you’d think, miss. There’s plenty as buys flowers and sends them by taxi to the Palido and other likep laces. More’n likely they’re to decorate the table.”

“What happened then?” “I had to leave film, miss. Couldn’t get out of it. So off I went to the Palido and gave up the flowers. Didn’t worry me much, for I had his name then —It was on the box —H. G. Pender. When I’d handed in the flowers I went back to the Union Club. Got word with one of the porters and found that he wasn’t there. I waited a time and when the chap I had spoken to went out on a message, I hops up to the door and asks for Mr Pender. Of course they said he wasn’t in the club —I knew that. Then I asked where I could And him, as I had a message for him. They gave me his telephone number —said it was in the directory-—so I soon got hold of his full name and address. Here it is, miss: H. G. Pender, The Apsley, Macquarie Street. You know the place; the tall, white building, right in the centre, overlooking the park. Swagger place that!” “But what makes you think he is going to dine at the Palido?” asked the girl. “The box of flowers was addressed there and in the corner was written; ‘For Mr H. G. Pender’s table’.” The man answered promptly. “There’s more, miss. I went and hung about The Apsley. He came out at last and jumped into a taxi and went down to the Palido. That was just a quarter of an hour ago. Looks as if he was stopping there.” “Where are you now, Mr Powers?”

“In a tea-shop, just opposite the Palido. Gan keep an eye on the place from here. He can’t get out without me seeing him.” Ivy was trying to think. What was she to do? Harold Pender was booked to dine at the big banquet for which she had arranged the decorations —yet this taxi-driver was assured that he was giving a party at the Palido!” “You’ll keep with him, Mr Bowers.” The girl spoke urgently. “He mustn’t get away from you. And .. .

and . . . Oh, I must arrange some way for you to keep in touch with me. Wait a moment.”

She had to go to the Union Club. A glance at her wrist-watch showed that she had barely time to get there to the time that she had arranged. How could she be at the club and yet keep in touch with this man? It»would be useless for him to communicate with Mary. She would not know what to do.

Suddenly, she remembered. There was a telephone in the banquet room at the Union Club. By chance, the switchboard had been placed close to it. If she remained behind the bank of flowers she would be out of sight of the guests, yet close to the telephone.

Yes. That would do! She could make some excuse that she wanted to watch the lighting effects through the evening. They, Mr Cantor and Jack Lome —if lie was there —would not object. She could tell Mr Cantor that she expected a telephone message. They would have the call put through to her, in the banquet hall. But, the telephone in the banquet hall was evidently for the use of the guests. Would it be connected with the club’s switchboard, or direct to the Exchange? She had to chance that! “Please keep careful watch, Mr Powers.” She spoke urgently. “Let me know when you see anything of him again. Telephone to me at the Union Club. Ask for Miss France. 1 shall hear the telephone in the banquet hall. You will, won’t you?”

“Sure, miss. Certain!” Ivy could almost see the man nodding his head, emphatically. She hung up the receiver and sped to her room. A few minutes and she was ready to leave. A taxi was standing before the door, awaiting her. For a moment she thought longingly of her own car, but she dared not take it to the club. If Jack Lome saw her getting out of a private car, he would wonder. Shop assistants could not, rightfully, possess private cars.

She thought her carefully built plans had crashed to the ground. From the moment she had accepted the assignment to design and create the decorations for the banquet she had believed that Harold Pender would be one of the guests. Her belief had been confirmed when she found his name on one of the cards given her, with the plans of the tables. She had built on his presence at the banquet; planning to surprise him into some admission that would give her a clue to the solution of the mystery in which she was involved. Now she would have to find some other way. She stamped her foot, angrily. What did the man want to make two dinner engagements for? He . . . he couldn’t be a gentleman to accept an invitation to a big dinner and then plan a party at the Palido. The taxi drew up with a jerk at the entrance of the Union Club. Ivy jumped out and paid the man. As she turned to the steps, a car came to a stop just behind her. “Miss France.” She turned to face Jack Lome. “Good luck for me, meeting you here. I’m just consumed with curiosity.”

She laughed, as they mounted the steps to the club-doors. In the banquet hall door Ivy produced the key and flung the door open. The place was shrouded In darkness, through which was outlined the silhouette of the white decorated tables.

Guided by the light, of her torch, Ivy went round the room to the switchboard. She threw on the ordinary lights and then came out into the room.

Bill Cantor was standing in the doorway, beside Jack Lome. She glanced at the two men. They were slowly examining the flower-decked room and a feeling of pride came over the girl as she saw the expression on their faces. She had done well —she had realised that —but she had not expected the indescribable feeling of awe that showed on the men’s faces. Cantor suddenly left his companion and came to her.

“Splendid, Miss Prance!” Hhe shook hands heartily. “Have never seen the place look so well before.” “May I echo that, heartily.” Ivy looked up into Jack’s eyes. “You have made a marvellous job of it—even without the lighting effects Mr Cantor tells me to expect. Now, may we see them?”

They waited, while the girl went behind the shielding bank of greenery, to the switchboard. A moment, and the lights in the hall were extinguished, leaving the place in darkness. Then from the roof came a soft glow of coloured lights lights shining through the great frames of many coloured glasses, casting beautiful shadows over hall and tables. From the massed banlis of flowers on the table other lights shone, white and coloured, changing in hues and combinations as the girl’s fingers played with the switches. Around the hall, concealed lights came to life, forming a veritable scene from fairyland.

At last Ivy emerged from behind the screen, to face the two men standing in almost awe of what they had witnessed. Jack turned at the sound of her soft movement and for a moment looked at her in silence. Then, with a strange’ half-foreign gesture of homage, he bowed. The stout, red-dy-faced head-steward nodded, quickly.

“You’ve struck it, Mr Lome,” he said. “Miss Prance is a wonder! I’ll tell the world!”

The girl coloured with pleasure. She had been sure of her work but had wondered what the men would think of it. A woman would have seen the possibilities before her, directly she entered the hall —but men might not. She had not been sure of her critics.

“Mr Cantor.” The girl spoke quickly. “May 1 remain in the hall after the banquet starts?”

“Sure!” Yet the man spoke doubtfully. “You’ll have to take care that you’re not seen thougTi.” He strolled over to where the switchboard was erected, behind the bank of greenery. “If you care to slay in here, Miss

France, you’ll be able to get a fair view. That do? Good! S’pose you want to see how They’ll take your lighting effects?” The girl nodded. That was a good excuse.

“I can get out that door, later,” she said, pointing to a small door close to where they stood. “If your guests see anything, it will be only the tail of my skirt.” “Don’t let them see more.” The man laughed. “If they catch you, and feel like I do about this decoration business, they will want to stand you on the table and cheer you.” She made a mocking little curtsey then, at the sounds of voices in the passage outside the door, fled to the alcove. As she expected, Jack followed her.

She switched on the main lights in the hall and waited, very conscious of the man beside her. Then Jack left her for a moment; to return dragging a comfortable chair., “Sit down, Miss France,” he commanded. “You must be dead beat after that b ,- g day’s work.” Ivy subsided, gratefully, into the chair. She wanted to relax—to think. Something had gone wrong with her plans. Even now she was in trouble. Jack was with her, and any moment Fred Powers might telephone her. She could not let the man overhear what she had to say to the taxi-driver —what instructions she might have to give him. If she did, she might betray her secret. In some way she must get rid of Jack Lome. She glanced up at him, her eyes shielded by her long lashes. He was standing, half-turned from her, staring out over the deserted banquet hall. How could she get him to leave her. She glanced up, anxiously, at the telephone instrument, almost over her head. At any minute it might ring to summon her. He would want to answer it —and he must not.

Perhaps he would leave her after the banquet started. The guests were now due to arrive. At the halfhour the dinner was timed to start. Could she wait that time? If Harold Pender stayed at the Palido —yes. But, would he? Had he been bound to entertain, in some way, at the night-club that evening? Had he planned to bring his guests together at the Palido and then, while they were dancing, slip away to the more formal function at the Union Club? That might be an explanation of his actions. Then, at any minute she might expect Fred Powers to telephone her the news that the “unknown” was on his way to the Union Club. “Miss France!” She looked up, startled. “Have you thought of what I asked you this afternoon?” “You mean, about Miss Breton?” She shook her head. Then, in sudden impulse. “Why don’t you tell me what you want to know? You asked me to tell you everything. That was far too big an order.” For a moment he waited, looking down on her. Suddenly he smiled. “Very well, I will take you at your I word. I want to know if Miss Breton is engaged to be married to her . . . No, he is no relation of hers “Miss Breton is not engaged to be married,” Ivy spoke impulsively, much startled. “Who told you that absurd —rumour.” “Is it a rumour?” He laughed shortly. “Look here, Miss Franoe, you say that you are an intimate friend of Miss Breton’s. Well, you know that she expected to inherit a big fortune from her godfather. She didn’t and n “That is the first time I have ever heard that Ivy Breton expected her godfather to leave her anything.” The girl spoke indignantly. “You know, Mr Slxsmith had relations?”

“A half-sister, who has a cub of a son.” Jack almost snapped. . . . and that Mr Slxsmith had very little property to leave them when he died?” Ivy carefully repressed any mention of the stocks and bonds that had come into her hand that day. “But —Basil Sixsmith was a very rich man!” Jack stared in astonishment. “Why ...” He paused again. “Look here, Miss France!! You’ve shown me that you can keep a secret. I’ll tell you one. Mr Sixsmith was a partner with me in my business. He put in more than two-thirds of the capital.” The girl sprang to her feet in astonishment.

“What do you mean?” she asked quickly. “Just exactly what I have said.” The young man flushed under her

steady gaze. “That’s why I want to know something about Miss Breton. You see, she’s really my partner, now. When I got beached through the death of my parents, old Kithner went to a lot of trouble to get my affairs straight. There was a certain amount of money free, after my father’s estate was settled. I wanted to try this flowershop game but I hadn’t enough cash. Mr Kithner introduced me to Mr Sixsmith, and we went into the thing thoroughly. In the end he offered to finance the business on the lines I had laid down, on condiijon that I took the personal management of it. He added some further conditions —things that I hadn’t dare bring forward.” “What conditions?”

“He thought that it was no use going into a shop and waiting on the professional growers. He said that we had to have our own nurseries. I had thought of that, but had cut out the idea from my plans, for I knew that I hadn’t enough capital to go into the matter in that fashion. My w capital was barely sufficient to open a shop in the right quarter of the city. Well, Mr Sixsmith made me get out a lot of new plans and in the end advanced all the money I wanted. We had a deed of partnership drawn up and . . . and well, that’s the lot.” “But, Mr Kithner should have placed Mr Sixsmith’s interest in your business to the estate accounts —and he deliberately told Mrs Western and . . . Ivy that there was only the house and its contents, and the money in the bank.” “And he was quite right.” Jack laughed. “You see, Mr Sixsmith had no time for his half-sister. To prevent her getting her fingers in my business in the event of anything unforseen happening to him, he executed a transfer of his interest in the business to his god-daugh'ter, Ivy Breton.”

“You mean . . .” Ivy stared. Then a noise at the. door attracted her attention. She turned to gaze down the room. Two men were walking into the hall. One of them was Harold Pender.

(To be continued)