BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXXIII, Issue 10142, 27 May 1896, Page 3

BETRAYAL OF JOHN FORDHAM.

BY B, L, FARJBON, . ' Author'of "No. 119, Great Porter Square," " Qrlf," "The March of Fate," "For , the Defence," " Aaron the Jew," etc. [All Eights Reserved.)

PART IV.

CHAPTER XXXHI. GODFREY, ■ PRIVATE DETECTIVE, CONj?. $ TIOTES.'HIS NARRATIVE.. ! The trjotive — the motive,: This wag the subject of ray thoughts as I walked from toe cemetery.' What possible motive could Maxwell have in making John Fordham believe' that' hisstepraoiher was dead? If she wore living Fordham could have nothing to hope from her; if she were dead, it was an obstacle removed from his path, a witness the less against him. It was not likely that Maxwell was anxious to afford; him this satisfaction; there was a cunning; motive for the deceit, but though I twisted the question a dozen different ways I could not make head or tail of it. Puzzling my head over the matter, I found myself in the neighbourhood of Soho. ,f.:.lt wae;not chance that directed.me there.I had not forgotten the woman, Annette. Loubert, who plays so important a part in John For'dham's confession, and though she seemed to have passed out of the story at about the time ha left England for Australia, I had an idea, if I succeeded in discovering her, that I might obtain some useful information. I hardly knew in what shape,' bub in such a task as mine the slightest due frequently leads to a momentous result. Up to this day my search for Annette had 'beon unsuccessful. Of course I had' looked .through the London Directory for the name of Loubert, but, curiously enough, it did not appear there, and I concluded either that the woman had married or had returned to her native country. If she had married and was Btill in London, SOIIO was the most likely neighbourhood in which to find her, and I had already spent several fruitless hours in those narrow thoroughfares, My patience, however, was not ; exhausted, and I was now treading them again in the hope of a better reward. I think,! may say thab hitherto.chance had not befriended me, but on''this, day ib . did mo a turn, and in a singular way, About to pass a Continental provision shop, of which there are a great many in Soho, and in the windows of which was tho usual display of German sausages, pickles, potted meats, Frotich mustard, pretzels, Dutch herrings, cucumbers, etc., I was obstructed by a ladder, aud had to cross the road. A sign-painter was at work on the ladder,and glancing at the board over the window I saw that a name had been erased and was being replaced by another, the first letter, L, having just been painted in bright blue. 1 walkod on, attaching no importance to the incident; but when, half an hour afterwards, I passed the shop again, and saw that the painter had got as far aB L 0 U, something like an electric shock darted through me. LOU, the first three letters in the name of Loubert. I did uoc linger ; the next minute I was in an adjoining street. The shop would not run away, and the proprietor would not run away. I could afford to wait. I did wait for an hour and more before I sauntered again through that particular street. The sign was finished, and stared me in the faco. I could have hugged myself when I saw the full name of Loubert on the signboard. Now, was the name that ot a woman, and was hor Christian name Annette? Half a dozen parsons were looking up at it in admiration of tho painter's skill. One, however, it littlo man who appeared to have been drinking, was regarding it with wrath and dissatisfaction; ho even went so far as to shake his fiat at it. He was a most disreputable looking character, and evi dently a confirmed toper. As he held up his fist a woman darted from the shop, anil standing ac the door fired one word at him. "Pig ll) response to which he directed his fist . towards her face. This so inflamed her that she flow at him, and, seizing him by. tho collar, shook him with such violence that ho fell to the ground the moment be was released. By this time a crowd had gathered, whose sympathies were entirely on her side. They jeered and laughed at the man, with whom they appeared to bo acquainted, and who lay in a state of 1 collapse. Not that he was hurt, except, as a matter of course, in his feelings; but he was afraid to rise and risk a second shaking at the hands of the woman, who seemed to be smarting under a sense of injury. To my surprise she became suddenly quite calm and composed, and stood looking down upon him with a disdainful smile on her thin white lips. " It is well done, Madame Loubert," cried a Frenchwoman in the crowd. "Itisas he deserves. I would wring his neck if he had served me so." " Thank you, madame," replied Madame Loubert, "for the name. It is my own. Behold it, pig!" Addressing her discomfited foe, and pointing to the newly-painted sign, " I r-r-renounce you. Come to me no more. Begone I" There was a melodramatic touch in her words, but nob in her utterance of them. Had I not witnessed it I could hardly have believed that they were spoken by the woman who had behaved with so much violence. The cold, passionless voice was in my judgment the result of long training, and 1 detected in her so many little resemblances to the Annette portrayed by John Fordham in his confession that I did not doubt that I had found her at last. I was careful to keep out of her sight, having determined to seek enlightenment first from the man, for I was curious to learn the meaning of this singular scene. The approach of a policeman pub an end to it. Tho crowd dissolved, Madame Loubert returned to her shop, and the man, whose furtive looks had followed her movements, slowly picked himself up. If he bad been inclined to appeal against the judgment which had been pronounced, he was manifestly not in a condition to do so just now; seemingly recognising this, he slunk off with the air of a whipped cur. The policeman took no notice of him, and was soon out of sight ; I kept in his track till he halted at tho door of a public-bouse and fumbled in his pockets. Finding nothing there he relapsed into a state of maudlin despair. This was my opportunity, and I took advantage of it. Over a friendly glass or two, he drinking my share and his own with cheerful alacrity, he ventilated his grievances. Annette was his wife, so he declared; they had lived together three years ; she had worshipped the ground he trod on, and his name had been painted over the shop window. And now, after he had ruined himself for her (he did not specify in what way) she turned upon him and cast him adrift. Re would not stand it— no, he was an Englishman, and he would not stand it, She was tired of him, was she ? She had another lover, had she? He would have his blood. And on, and so on. The real fact was that there had been a trifling informality in tho marriage, the man 1 was pumping being married already when he went through the ceremony with Annotte. It was true that his first wife had died shortly after he married his second, but Annette had only lately discovered that hor own marriage was illegal, and being tired of the rascal was glad to be quit of him. She had been prbdent enough to protect her savings ; the business was hers, the stock was hers, and she had turned him oat with never a penny in his pockets, ' " Not a penny, nob one single penny," he whined. I sympathised with him, of course, and I left him at bis 'lodgings— garret in the same street as the shop—with a promise to will upon him the next night and see if a ivi-hiiu could be done to soften Annette's heart. Ttio information I had extracted, from him was not of much present use to mo* but I saw the possibility of. the. acquaintanceship being of service, and I was by no means dissatisfied with, my day's.'.work ; but the day was not yet over. >.I have good rertstr; to remember if', and so has every person associated with .the mystery, so | mauy strange . tbiuge occurred -the

strangest of all (which at first seemed to have not the sligKesti connection with the affair) leading to a iaosb surprising and unexpected discovery; /'.;.,.,, It was: my intention' to pay Madame Icdaberba visit, and I. thought that evening would be the best time. I had business to transact at my ?ffiqe r for this Liverpool murder, though it occupied bo much of ray time, was nob the only thing 1 had ho attend to. So to my office I went and spent a useful hour in straighteping my affairs and giving instructions to my cierk. Then I sat; down to catch up arrears of correspondence, and by four o'clock I had everything in order. I had pot away my papers and stamped the last of my letters when my clerk announced a lady— Barlow, who was most anxious to see me. She was shown in, an elderly lady, with a careworn,face and ladylike manners. _ She had been' recommended to me, as a likely person to discover her son, whom she had not seen for five or six years. " Nor heard from him I" 1 asked. "Nob a line," she answered in a sad voice. "Is he in England?" " I do not know." " Well, tell me all about it," I said, " and bear in mind that your time and money will be thrown away.if you keep anything in the background," •■•, - .< :* I condense what she related,' She was a widow, with one child, this son who had deserted her. He had always given her trouble. Nob that he was bad at heart, bub so easily led away, believing in everybody, trusting everybody. (Mother's love, here ; I knew its value in a practical sense.) Unfortunately he had fallen into bad company, and-her belief was that he was ashamed to return to her. Years ago they had been fairly well off, but little by little he had gob from her all she was worth, and then he left her. She managed to rub along, however, being assisted by Philip's uncle, her deceased husband's'brother. This uncle had lately died and lefb her a small legacy, which she had received. A legacy of three thousand pounds was lefb to Philip ; in case of his death at the time of testator's decease the money would go to a charitable institution. Philip had nob presented himself to claim the legacy, and she was naturally anxious to discover him, so she had come to me to assist her. A simple story, before the end of which I had made up my mind about the man. A thoroughly bad lot-an opinion I kept to myself, however. I put a few questions to Mrs. Barlow. " Can you think of any reason why your son should not come forward to claim this fortune?" "No." I ' She was afraid to express what must have been in hor mind—that he was dead. • "Be fell into bad company, you say. Whab kind of bad company ? I must proas for an answer." " Unfortunately he was fond of cards?" " Blacklegs got hold of him, then ?". She sighed. " Did he bet on horses ? "Yes." "That explains a great deal. He went to races, and lost his money ?" " Everybody took advantage of him." "I see. Now, Mrs. Barlow, if I take this matter up I must have a free hand. Among other things I shall do I may have to advertise. If you have any objection, you had best say so at once." " You may do anything you like—only discover my son for me." "Very well. Have you a portrait of your son ?" " Yes-a cabinet in a frame. I did not bring it with me." "Send it immediately to ray private address. I should like it soon." " You shall have it to-night. I will bring it myself." I gave her my private card, and took five pounds from her for preliminary expenses." She was about to leave, when she turned and said, " Perhaps I ought to tell you that a friend mentioned that he thought he saw Philip." " Certainly you ought to tell me. The mischief of theso cases is thab there is always something kept back Where did he see him ?" "In Liverpool, but he is not certain it was Philip." "Very stupid of him. How long ago was it?" "Over a year ago." "Is that all?" " Yes, that is all," she said, and bade me good-day. Before I loft my office I wrote an adver tisemeut for the personal columns of the daily papers, to the effect that if Philip Barlow called upon or communicated with me, ho would hear of something very much to his advantage. Instructing my clerk to insert the advertisement in three of the principal newspapers, I went to my lodgings and made a chance in ray appearance, which I deemed prudent, in view of my visit to Madame Loubert. That lady was nob in her shop when I entered it. In response to a rap on the counter, she issued from an inner room, and asked what I required. There was a glass panel in the door of this room, across which a groen curtain was drawn. I have a faculty of observation which enables me to see •> great deal at a glance. While I was making a few small purchases, I entored into conversation with her. I said that I had been recommended to her shop, but had some difficulty in finding it, in consequence of the name over the window being altered. She admitted the alteration, and said that the business would in future bo conducted under the new name. " Your own name, I presume, madame ?" I said. "My own name," she answered. "lb makes no difference in what I sell." "None at all," I said, briskly. " You were spoken of, I remember, as Madame Annette." " That also, is my name. May I ask, monsieur, by whom you were recommended I watched her face keenly as I replied, "Madame, or rather, Mrs. Fordham. As I uttered the name I observed a slight disturbance of the green curtain. "Pardon me, monsieur," she said, and went into tho private room, the door of which she carefully opened and shut. "Now," thought I, "whab is the meaning of this, and will ib make any difference in Madame Loubert'sbehaviour?" It made a perceptible difference. Something had passed between her and the person in the innor room which had put her on her guard, and she was watching me now as keenly as I was watching her, " Madame Fordham," she remarked, with assumed indifference, continuing our conversation. " Who is Madame Fordham ?" "I supposed she was a customer of yours," I answered. "It may be," she said. " Oh, yes, it may be; bub does one know all one's customers?" " Thab would be difficult," I said, laughing, " with such a connection as you have, madame." " You are right, monsieur, ib would be difficult. Do you require anything more ?" " Nothing more, thank you, madame," She let an arrow fly. " I will send the articles home and the bill, if monsieur will kindly give his address." " Much obliged, madame," was my reply "I will pay for them, and take them with me," So the little passage at arms ended, and I walked away just a trifle wiser than I came, for I had learned that Madame Loubert did not desire to talk about John Fotdhum's stepmother, and that there was some person behind the green curtain who also had an interest in the matter. Had I deemed ib safe I would have kept watch for that person outside Madame Louberb's shop, but I felt that I was dealing with a woman as clever as myself, and I recognised the necessity of caution, lb was annoying, but there was no help for it. (To bo continued on Saturday next.)

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