THE MAMMOTH MANSIONS MYSTERY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIII, Issue 19298, 10 April 1926, Page 5 (Supplement)

THE MAMMOTH MANSIONS MYSTERY.

BY HEADON tttt.T.

CHAPTER XXL—{Continued.) ' And that he was grievously afraid he could not disguise from himself. If Constance had projected her detrsctive expedition she must have done so in time to inform her aunt at breakfast. For, according to Miss Mona Leyland, the car had called for her shortly after that meaL It seemed much more probablo that sho had been lured into tho RollsRoyce limousine and was no longer a free agent. " Do you know Lifford's Garage at the corner of Mowlem Street ? Mainprico inquired of his taxi-driver. " Used to work there," was the satisfactory reply. But, at tho garage in qnestion, this promising trail seemed to bo blocked. Iho proprietor came out, and, after nodding recognition to the driver, put himself at the disposal of the young clergyman in the cab. "My dear sir, there must be some mistake," ho said when he had listened attentively to the story of tho limousine and the squinting chauffeur with the purple mole. " There is no such driver in my employ, and I have sent out no car of that description to-day. In fact, I do not possess one." Mainprice apologised and bade tho cabman drive him to his hotel. But round the corner of the next street that worthy pulled up and came round to tho door. " Beg pardon, sir," ho said. " I couldn't help hearing what you was saying to Lifford, and he to you. What Lifford says goes. He is a straight man, and I don't believe he ever owned a Rolls-Royce of any make. Ain't got the dibs for 'em. All tho same, I can place that shuvver you was telling me about." " Good for you," rejoined Mainprico. " There'll be a fiver for you if you can put me on to him."

The taxi-driver stroked his smoothshavon chin, " It'll be worth all that," ho replied. " Because if there's any trouble back of all this for Larry it will bo me for kingdom como. He's slippy with knifo or pistol for them he don't like. Mind the Harland murder P' " A particularly atrocious crime," answered Makiprico, who had written a monologue on it in Uie pages of a didactic quarterly. " Well, Larry Crowlo was the shower who drove the murderer before and afterwords," the taximan affirmed. "Us drivers tumbled to him all right. It was duo to his cunning that no arrest was made." "That justifies your claim, and I will raiso mv offer to a tenngj - ," said Mainprice. It would bo well worth it, he thought, for if the squint-eyed chauffeur was the accomplice of the Harland murderer Constance Eden was at the mercy of as cruel a fiend as ever walked in human shape. The cab-driver's acceptance was registered by a grimy finger to the peak of his cap, by the slamming of the door and the hoarse whisper: " I'll tako you to whore we may hear of him, sir." The vehicle moved off, and Mainprice, brooding over his apprehensions for the girl he loved, did not pay attention to the route selected by the friendly taximan. But when, at the end of ten minutes, the cab glided to a standstill, ho could not fail to be interested in his destination. This was the place where Larry Crowlo, the cross-eyed chauffeur with tho evil record, was likely to be heard of. To the detective instinct, which, in spite of tho day's set-backs, still burned brightlv, a welcome stimulus was administered, none tho less welcome becauso it arrived through successive stages of bewilderment, of surpriso and keenly awakened interest. _ , Tho houso at which his taxi had stopped was embellished with tarnished gilt letters proclaiming it to be " Tho Cormorant Club." Mainprice knew it as the Bohemian resort where Manfred Eden had been killed, and numbering Simon Kite among its members. He had also been made aware by Sir Jocelyn Eversley of the club's unsavoury reputation. Tho driver descended from his seat at tho wheel and again addressed his faro: " Larry's brother belongs here. I'll inquire if he's in. If so, ho may cough up something, provided you make it worth his while. Ho is a cove that has to be greased, or he's as dumb as an oyster." Ho jangled tho door-boll and a hallporter appeared. " Seen Larry Crowlo lately ?" demanded the taximan. " No. and ain't likely to," the janitor replied crossly. " Who have you got in your cab—a Scotland Yard 'tec?" " Not much. A real gent , ono of tho best." " Then," said tho tatterdemalion porter " you're asking on your own, I reckon. I ain't seen Larry for weeks, or his blooming brother, Simon Kite either. Kite hasn't been to the club since that day there was all the fuss about Eden being dono in in tho lavatory, if ho was here then. Kite is supposed to bo in Paris, and thereforo not guilty of tho job some swell personated him to do. That's what the mombors are saying." The taxi-driver cast a questioning look at Mainprice, who from the interior of the cab had been an absorbed listener to tho

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conversation. Receiving an ocular reply, the driver hopped back to his seat and sent the car spinning down the street. Mainprice called through the tube. " Scotland Yard," was his instruction. CHAPTER XXII " BILLY " GROWLS. Sir William Macintyre was taking Inspector Coyle's verbal report of the inquests at the Westminister mortuary. The grim old Chief of the C.I.D. was displeased with the open verdicts and he did not fail to let his subordinate feel the lash of his displeasure, " That's all very well, Coyle," he barked at the apologetic officer. "If you had been as cocksure in the witness-bos about Sir Jocelyn Eversley having run Kite's show as you have been in this room you could have persuaded the jury to a definite conclusion in both cases." " It was the damfool coroner, sir, that queered the pitch," Coyle protested. "lie actually summed up in the Villiers Street case without referring to the finger-print on the whisky bottle." " The coroner was right," snapped the chief. " That finger-print, may bo a clue, but it isn't evidence till you have obtained an undoubted print from Sir Jocelyn Eversley to compare it with. And then only if the prints are identical. I don't under-rate your work, Coyle. I admit that you have saddled Eversley with motive, but it isn't enough." " I wish to God I knew where ho is so as I could get his prints," Coyle almost snarled. " I believe that infernal parson could tell me." "What parson is that?" Sir William inquired coldly. " Tho Rector of Eversley, Mainprice, his name is. Fancies himself as a crime expert. I suspected him of trying to shove spokes in my wheel when 1 was down there. Used to be sort of blood-brother with ouc. precious baronet, from what I gathered in that benighted village." Sir William was far too well versed in the guile of his craft to inform his prejudiced assistant that he was personally a diligent reader and admirer of the Reverend Cyril Mainprice's contributions j to the literature of crime. " Well, Coyle, you have yonr remedy if tho clerical busybody obstructed you in tho execution of your duty," he said. " I suppose he didn't as you have taken no action against him V " Ho is too cute to pnt himsolf in the power of tho law," Coyle complained. " I felt it in my bones, though, that he was serving me up on toast." " This was the opening that " Billy ' Macintyre had been waiting for. " You ought to be ashamed of youself," ho thundered. " Call yourself an inspector of the C.I.D. and you come and whine to me that you have been bested by a country clergyman. Begone out of this, and don't come back till you have a case against some one. It's your finger-prints I want, man, on the collars of Sir Jocelyn Eversley and Simon Kite." , , "I am to lock 'em both up, Sir William ?" If you are man enough, hut rd lay odds against it. 1 " Half an hour after the departure of the disgruntled inspector a card was brought to tho Chief, which sent his fierce eyebrows up with a jerk. The card bore the superscription: "The Reverend Cynl Mainprice, Eversley Rectory. " I will see the gentleman, said 14 Billy," wondering what situation would arise from the advent of Coyle's " infernal parson." Whatever it might be thf Chief felt confident that he could handle it, though he confessed to himself that curiosity as to a singular personality had prompted him to admit the parson rather thon any new development that might arise in Coyle's three hitherto abortive cases. It would be a pleasure to pit pro fessional experience against an academe amateur who had only won his spurs on Mainprice." to-*. genially when the visitor had been shown in "Of course, I know you well by your writings, of which I have been an avid Student In what way can I " The boot is rather on the other leg, laughed Mainprice nervously. I nop# lam here to serve you. It is like my cheek, you will say, but I cama fountein-head because one of yonr little C.LD. streams is trickling down a wrong course. I should not have presumed to butt in if Inspector Coyle's absorb mfatna- &£ about my old friend and Sir Jocelyn Eversley, had not touched my personal affections. To be frank, Sir William, Coyle's conduct of Mammoth Mansions case, and in a minor degree of the Cormorant Club and Villiers Street cases, has placed the woman I love m direst jeopardy. At the moment I believe her to be in the power- of Larry Crowle, who, I am credibly informed, drove tha murderous ghoul who killed the whole Harland family." _ The commissioner s face hardened. Ine crime alluded to had been one of the failures of the department. His underlings, with Coyle at their head, had broken down badlv. They had not lost the trail; they had "never even found it. And here was the rector of a far-away parish on the Hampshire coast coming to him with a name which betokened inside knowledge "Larry Orowle ?" he queried angrily, i never heard of him. Does Coyle know all this ?" , , , "Probably not, but he might have known it if he had followed the true scent instead of a false one. In his ofhoal position he had greater facilities than I have had. Judge for yourself, Sir William. And to obtain that judgment Mainprice narrated everything unfolded in these pages that had come under his survey or had boon imparted to him —the stupid personation of Simon Kite by Sir Jocelyn the evidence collected by himself against Kite and the presence of the latter at Eversley, the revelation of the caretaker at Mammoth Mansions about his wife s unfounded susnicions and the keen interest taken by the"*private detective in the two later mur " J p „ shown by his loitering in tho street , he did not divulge was the retreat of bir Jocelyn Everslev to his ancestral home. All this he passed in quick review but he waxed more impressive when he informed the commissioner that his housekeeper was the daughter of Manfred Eden, and that she was missing from her aunt s n"t after being called for by the squinting chauffeur identified by tho taxi-driver as Larry Crowle. , ... Sir William Macintyre groaned at the conclusion of the recital But he did not lose grip. Ho pushed a bell-button on the de&Jt. M "Send Superintendent Sapper to mo, he ordered the plain-clothes constable who answered the summons. " Sapper," he said to tho ofheer who shortly entered, "this gentleman has brought in valuable information re the liarland murders. He is not in the least interested in that crime, but, while following another trail, ho has picked up a line to tho man who drove the car. I want you to send out an all-station warning to j stop a Rolls Royce limoifeine driven by a j squinting chauffeur with a purple mole on his left cheek. The number of the car is not known." The superintendent, who was a big, bucolic-looking man rather like a pig- ' dealer, sighed gustily. "Another of Coyle s misfits. wheezed. Then he darted an all-embrac-ing glance at Mainprice. *«.«. "Who is this gentleman, Sir William . he demanded. "The Reverend Cyril Mainprice,- rector of Eversley, in Hampshire, working on behalf of Sir Jocelyn Eversley," replied the chief. , ' "And I'll wager it's good work Mr. Mainprice has put in," chuckled the superintendent. "Do you know, sir, I have solved six knotty problems and hanged at least three murderers through practising the methods you preach in the press ?" he spoke to tho clergyman. "Flattery isn't one of my methods," Mainprice smiled at him. Mr. Sapper changed the subject with a shake of his mighty shoulders, addressing his superior with the air of one vvho springs a surprise. And it was a surprisej indeed,'that leaped from tho burly superintendent's lips.

"No need to 6end out that all-station warning," he said. "A.chauffeur answering to your description, squint and purple mole, drove a Rolls Rbyce limousine to our main entrance a quarter of an hour ago. I was questioning him when yon sent for me. There is a dead woman in the car." "* • Sir William pushed back his chair. "Come on, Mainprice!" he shouted. Don't look so scared, man. She may not be dead, after all." "Dead as Moses." Sappdr cold-watered the suggestion as ho lumbered in the wake of the commissioner. "I got the doctor to her at ones and he says she's been a stiff 'un two hours or more." Nothing more was said as the three men hurried down to the great main doorway of headquarters. One glance into the luxurious interior of the motor told them that the limp figure huddled in the far corner was beyond the aid of human skill. A dapper little man was stooping over the dead svotnan. He looked round at a sharp question from Macintyre. . "Murder, sure enough," he said. "And a devilish clever one, so far as I can see—poison injected with a squirt." . (' CHAPTER XXIII. BUT WHERE WAS CONSTANCE ? . With a cry of horror Mainprice pushed past tho police-surgeon and then uttered an exclamation of relief. ' "This is not Miss Eden," he said, and, bonding lower, ho added: "I think it is S Collop, the wife of the caretaker at Mammoth Mansions. She was at the mortuary with Inspector Coyle this morning while the inquests were being hold, though I am not aware if she give evidence. Probably not, as no accusation seems to have been brought against Sir Jocelyn or Lady Eversley. This woman would have been an important witness ii insinuations had been made about them.** " Witness for tho prosecution or the defence I" snapped Sir William. "I cannot say how she would havo wished it to bo taken," replied Mainprice, "but I am assured, from my study of the case, that 'she could not havo done my friends any harm. The poor creature was a fool, labouring under a misconception." The Commissioner's savage bites at the ends of his ragged moustache indicated that he was not only ail at sea, but out of his depth. To hide his lack of grasp he turned furiously on Superintendent •' Sapper, who was apparently preaching a sermon to the villainous-looking chauffeur who had ruffled the serenity of "The Yard" by driving a corpse into its sacred precincts. "Here you, Sapper!" bellowed Sir William. "What yarn does, that cross-eyed scoundrel pitch ?" "He denies having picked anyone np in Mowlem Street or having been in it for months," was the reply. "He professes to be in the private employ of a Mr. Victor Vivian, of Kensington Gate. He says he had driven his master into the city and was on his way home when the deceased lady there stopped him near Charing Cross. She told "him she had to get to Oxbridge in half an hour, and offered , him £lO to drive her there. He was to set her down in the High Street. He confesses to having been willing to make , a bit on the side, as he wasn't to fetch his master till sii o'clock; so he closed with tho deal. But on arrival at Uxbridge the lady didn't stop him, so after he had driven twice through the High Street he got down and looked in. lie found his fare much as she is- now, speechless and huddled in the corner. A closer look told him she was dead. He decided to put himself right by speeding back to town and delivering the damaged goods to the C.LD." "Humph! A praiseworthy idea if he was else," growled Sir William. "But as his name happens to be Larry Crowle and he is suspected of being an accessory in tho Harland murders hp will be detained for further Inquiries. Have him carted over to Vine Street, In the meanwhile, Sapper, you have got to verify his allegation • that he is in the private employ of Mr. Victor Vivian, of Kensington Gardens and the Stock Exchange." ' The superintendent saluted and withdrew, while the surgeon took charge of the arrangements for removing the remains of "the lady with the Pekingese • to the mortuary. „ "This is all very thrilling from a 'yard* point of view, Sir William," said Mainprice restively. "But where is Constance Eden ?" "I expect you'll know before I do, was the testy rejoinder. "In the meat while, before you get busy, yon had better come and wait in my room till Sapper weighs in with his report, on Larry Crowle." In about half an hour Mr. Sapper appeared, and in the worst of tempers. He had first tried to telephone to Mr. Vio tor Vivian, of Kensington Gardens, but he rould not find his name or number in the list. He had then gone to investigate in person and had established the fact that there .was no such resident as Mr. Victor Vivian at the address given by the swivel-eyed A further inquiry in the city failed to locate any such person as a member of the Stock Exchange. «I seem to have been of more us© to Scotland Yard than Scotland "iard has been to me," declared Mainprice bitterly. "Never fear but what we will find your girl for yon yet," the Commissioner essayed clumsy comfort. "I am going to find her myself, was the clergyman's firm rejoinder.

CHAPTER XXIV. DOUBLE-CROSSING A ROGUE. Cyril Mainprice's first step toward "fSc his girl" would have raised curious conjectures among his recent tern porary associates hud they thought it Jorth while u, .kadoj him wtal he shook the lethargic dust of Scotland Yard from his indignantly hurjtng feet. As a matter of fact he was at particular pains to assure himself that he was not so shadowed. . Early in his studies of criminal methods he had made the acquaintance of one Ezra Saw kins, a small shopkeeper m Hlackfriars Road. Not to put too fine » point on it, Mr. Sawkins was ostensibly an ironmonger, though he depended for his actual sustenance on the sale of burglarious tools. Tho academic student of crime had been , too wise to introduce himself under his own name, using tha alias of Noggs and leaving the vendor of jemmies under the impression that he belonged to the fraternity foe which Mr. Sawkins catered. Within an hour of his frigid departure from Sir William's room at " The Yard," Mainprice entered the low-ceiled shop. " How do, Ezra." he greeted the wizened proprietor. " I want an outfit of tho smallest and lightest lock-persuadors you specialise in. What you might call a fairy outfit that I can hide in my mouth, under my arm-pits, or in any other secret cavity of my body." "Been resting lately, ain't yer? ' grinned the tool-maker. "Yes, I can fis yoo up with a feather-weight battery all right. Picklock, watch-spring saw, baby jemmy and all complete. Yon could carry the lot in your ear-hole, if yon was so minded." Mainprice presently left the shop with his purchases, mildly speculating as to Inspector Coyle's feelings could that zea lous officer see them. Repairing to the Covent Garden hotel, where he had bpoked a room, and left his suitcase, he made certain experiments with the felonious hardware sold him by Mr. Sawkins. That worthy's encomiums were amply verified.. The tools could be stowed in the smallest possible compass without having recourse to such artificial aid as pockets or cloth , ing. Stark naked, he stood before the long mirror in his room, and smiled at himself, serenely confident that Nature had furnished him places of concealment which would defy the most experienced police-station searcher. Then he dressed himself in the oldest suit of layman's garments he possessed, laying a foundation of worn and ■underclothes guiltless of laundry or other markings. With some pigments and aru ficial hair that he had brought so £ tored his facial appearance that wn he left the hotel, he rambled a pated provincial, ' nn ~ c ] erE ryi«an rather than the, R J?? m who was registered »s Everslay. (To bo cemiißWM dan*-*