“TO-MORROW'S CHILD”

Manawatu Times, Volume 64, Issue 124, 29 May 1939, Page 9

“TO-MORROW'S CHILD”

By Julie Anne Moore

Synopsis of Preceding Instalments: Val Clarke, engaged to Robert Greeley, goes to New York from Now Manchester to shop with Mrs. Warren, her Aunt Mahala's house- , keeper. Val's cousin, Kate Hollister, fashion magazine editor, gives a party where Val meets Hugh Malcolm, playwright; Bret Gallishaw, New Manchester boy, who while on a New York newspaper, wrote a best seller; Leslie Crawford, Bret’s halfbrother, and Winifred Sperry, who are starring in Hugh’s “End of Tears/’ and Guy Williams, who inherited millions and has a small part in the play. Bret, engaged to Kate, married wealthy Evelyn Garfield. He hates Leslie after a losing a will contest and Leslie resents Hugh’s interest in Winifred. Guy takes Val to Pete Gaboriau’s luxurious place near Philadelphia. Louiso (Lecze) Cameron, who is with Crandall Scott, greets Guy with kisses aud later strikes Val who defends herself so well that Guy has to assist Leeze out. Pete's gambling rooms are raided and Cran drives Val back. During a storm scene in Hugh’s play, Leslie drops dead, shot through the heart. Hurrying from the theatre, Val sees Hugh, who says he’s just come from tho corner cigar store. Bret had left earlier to catch a train. Val’s aunt orders Leeze from her house for smoking when she appears there with Cran. Val leaves with them. When Cran brings her home alone he kisses her. She tells him she is to.marry soon. Mrs. Warren says her aunt doesn’t want to see her again. Answering Kate’s wire, Val aids Hugh’s alibi by saying he was at the cigar store corner when she caine out of tho theatre. “Why . . .Val!” Hugh asked. “Why? I don’t understand.' 7 “Why did you lie for mo?” “I didn’t lie. I merely stretched the truth to cover the practical necessities of the case . . . Can’t we drop it now, Hugh? To-morrow I must go over it all again and it isn’t tho sort of thing I enjoy taking about.” They were in the living room of Kate’s apartment, barely an hour after leaving tho district attorney’s office. Having failed to trap Val in a misstatement in several reviews of her story, District Attorney Kellogg had said, “Well, that lets you out, Hugh. I must ask Miss Clarke to repeat what she has told mo to the police. I’ll arrange a conference here at two to-mor-row afternoon.” And after a moment, the Walter Kellogg who was Hugh’s old friend, said, 4 ‘ You could have saved all of us a good deal of worry if you had told me about this young lady in the beginning, you big yokel.” Kate had gone to her office to look over some proofs and Vsl had returned to the apartment alone., A quarter of an hour later Hugh had arrived, wearing an expression of forced gaiety, trying to cover an increasing uneasiness.

Hugh said now, “Ever hear of perjury, Val?” “Swearing falsely under oath? Yes, I’ve hoard of it.” “You were not under oath, but you may be boforo this is over. Suppose tho police dig up a witness who says he saw me slipping out of the theatre immediately after Leslie was killed?” “But you left the theatre several minutes beforo Leslie was killed, so no such witness can bo dug up.” He nodded, smiling. “That happens to be tho truth, but you don’t know it to bo tho truth.” “If it is the truth and I’m willing to accept it as the truth, what doss it matter, Hugh? You didn’t kill Leslie. I am suro of that as I am that I didn’t kill him.” j “But you lied—which is contrary to | your nature. To pull mo out you had |to take tho risk of pulling yourself in* Why did you do it, Val?” j They were back where they had start|ed now. All that talk had failed to save her from this direct question, a j question to which she herself did not | know the answer. “I'd have done it for anyone in trouble,” she told herself, and knew instantly that was not true. She was willing to believe that Hugh was innocent, but she did not know it. She was willing to repeat under* oath what she had said to tho district attorney—and she was not accustomed to lying. She put his question to herself: “Why did you do it, Val?” Aud then, she looked at him, very direct, her dark eyes clear and honest beneath their long lashes. “You want the truth, of course. So do I ... I don’t know, Hugh.” Kate came iu. When she saw Hugh, she stopped, grinning, and said, “Everywhere 1 go, there you are . . . Have you persuaded Val yet to spend the winter in New York?” Val knew by Kate's question that Hugh had not told her about Robert. After a time Hugh said, “I'm afraid that's all off. Val has other plans.” Kate's brows lifted and she looked at Val. “Weil, I can’t say that I blame her. One visit like the last was enough to let her see what kind of people we are.” Quickly Val’s head came around. “1 found you very interesting people,” she said, unsmiling. “So much so that X haven’t been abio to get my mind ofi any of you since I went back to .New Manchester. At ioast you’re alive and doing something and not trying to run one another’s lives.” S ho -had said more than she meant to say, but she didn’t care. The thought of.going back to New Manchester—to Aunt .Mahala who had threatened to put. her out of the house, because she had been decent to her friends—to Hebert who was so much interested in Aunt Mahala’s money that he had secretly agreed to live in the house until Aunt Mahala was a like stone on her heart. “I supposed you knew,” Hugh said to Kate. “Val is to be married in Docomber.'' Val said quickly. “The last week of November. Aunt Mahala aud llobert do-

Instalment 13.

cided that after my New York orgy. Thought they’d better get me under glass before I came home with something worse than a black eye, I imag“And who,” asked Kate, “is Robert, Val?” “Robert Greeley,” Val said, and thought she had let something unpleasant creep into her voice, without intent, certainly. “Funny,” Kate said musingly, “but to look at you, Val, I'd gamble a month's salary that you’ve never been in love.” Hugh adroitly switched the conversation back to the murder investigation. “My being out of it doesn't relieve Walter Kellogg of the necessity of finding the guilty person,” he said. “I've a notion I’Jl find myself in again before wo hear the last of Leslie Crawford.” “Which reminds us, for no reason at all,” said Kate, “that I ran into Winifred in the Manhattan dining room last night. You’d never guess whom she was with.” “Was it Bret Gallishaw?” Val asked. The effect of this casual question on Kate was astounding. Her hand holding tho cream pitcher sank to the table and her blue oyos delved into Val’s. “Bret—with Winifred? . . . Why did you think that, Val?” “Sho didn’t think it,” Hugh hurried to Val’s defence. “Your question suggested a surprise and she made a wild guess. My guess would have been Guy Williams.” “And whilo your guess is just as wild, it happens to be correct,” Kate said, smiling again. “They were parked off in a corner and looked quite cosy.” 4 4 Guy gave Winifred quite a rush last year,” Hugh said. “Yes, I know, but no one took it seriously, Winifred least of all. Guy has more money than ho can spend and he gets a kick out of being seen around with a Broadway favourite—even though she is ten years his senior. ’ ’ Hugh shrugged. “Winifred is a very clever and a very beautiful woman,” he said, “but twenty-threo million dollars is twenty-three million dollars.” “Nonsense!” Kate cried. “I’m sorry 1 mentioned seeing them.” A vagrant thought had been playing around in her brain. Suddenly she turned to Val. 44 When you were here before, Val, you asked me if Leslie had any children. I told you he had never been married and you said no more. But I haven’t been able to get it out of mind that you had some reason for asking.” Val avoided Kate’s eyes for a moment before her long lashes came uj» and she said. 44 1 t wasn’t anything oi importance.” But then on impulse she told them of seeing Leslie Crawford in the mirror in his dressing room, the night of the murder, standing behind the door looking at the photograph of a small boy. Kate and Hugh exchanged questioning glances. Hugh said presently: “I wonder what became of that pic-' turc? They showed me Leslie’s personal effects at the detective bureau and tiicro was only one picture—Winifred’s.’ 1 Hugn saw the deep shadows in Kate’s* eyes and knew what sho was thinking. Suddenly he was on his feet, forcing a smile. 4 4 Sorry, ladies, but 1 have an appointment. I suppose I won’t see you again before the third degree to-morrow afternoon, Val.”

Val went with him to tho door. There was no light in the hall. Sho found his coat for liim and wlien he pulled it on the collar was turned up at tho back. Val readied up to pull it down; her hands slid over his shoulders. 4 4 This is extraordinary attention,” he said in subdued voice. Her face, so very near his own, lay in shadow save for a thin thread of light from the living room which cut diagonally across her mouth. Ho looked down at her red lips, pulled himself up. Val’s arms slid away, but her face still looked up at him. A faint smile spread on her lips. Ho swuug around and caught the knob of the door. “Well —until to-morrow afternoon ...” Val hadn’t moved. Quickly he stepped back, took her face between his hands and kissed her on the mouth. When he had gone Val leaned against tho closed door, a hand at her tnroat. Sho felt tho door moving behind her. For a moment Hugh stood there, looking at her gravely. Then ho caught her wrist and gently pulled her iuto the hall and closed the door. His face flushed, iiis grey eyes troubled. “ This may seem to you a crude anticlimax, Val, but—l shouldn’t have done that.” “You did it because you thought I wanted you to?” Val asked, evenly. “I did it because 1 hadn’t tho moral courage to deny myself something I wanted to do tho first night I met you . . . But it was an act of impulse, Val —just as it would liavc been if 1 had kissed you that first night.” Val laughed, softly, “in other words, you wanted to kiss me because you wanted to kiss me. Well, I let you for the same reason, Hugh. Tkero isn’t anything to explain and no call for an apology. ’ ’ 4 4 Sure ? ’ ’ 4 4 Oh, quite. Last night I let another man kiss me, sent him away and told him he must never see me again. That’s all a kiss amounts to, Hugn. When it’s over—it’s over.” His face clouded. “I see. It’s as unimportant as that,” “Of course. That’s what you were trying to tell me a moment ago, isn’t it?” He didn’t say anything, just looked at her, puzzled by the bright sparkle of her eyes. Then: “ Well—-sorry, anyway. Good-night.” It was during dinner in the apartment that V al suddenly said, 4 4 Kate, is it a sign you’re iu love with a man when you like to have him kiss you?” Kate laughed. “Surely you aren’t as naive as all that, Val.” Val studied the prongs , of her fork. 44 Perhaps not., but—there’s something

cheap about a girl who kisses every man that comes along. ’' 4 4 Of course thero is, but few girls da Kissing a few men you happen to like isn’t kissing every man that comes along, you know'. And as for lovo . . . ” She leaned over the table: “When love comes, darling, you know it instantly. A kiss won’t tell you. No one thing will tell you—but you’ll know.” It was four the following afternoon when Val returned to Kate’s apartment The conference with' the police at tho district attorney’s office had drained her of every ounce ot strength. Hugh’s alibi had been definitely aud finally established aud accepted. She had clone what she could. Now sho was free to go back to New Manchester. \ iolet was wearing her usual wide grin when she let Val in. “How come,” the maid said, “you and Miss Kate ain’t tell me you is gout a stay wid us, Miss Val? I sho am pleased and delighted.” 4 4 But, ” Val said, puzzled, “I’m going homo to-nigut.” The maid’s eyes widened. 44 Ain’t them three trunks yourn, Miss Val? • . . They sho got your name on ’em.”