THE MAMMOTH MANSIONS MYSTERY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIII, Issue 19307, 21 April 1926, Page 18

THE MAMMOTH MANSIONS MYSTERY.

BY HEAD OH HILL.

CHAPTER XLI. A BREACH OS DISCIPLINE. Out of the tail of her eye Constance caught sight of the tawdry cap which had decorated the grizzled head of tho inspector's mother. So she had been right, and she was back under the roof of the widow Coyle. Protest against her imprisonment she knew would be futile, besides being undignified. She, therefore, received the communication in silence. ' Thanks for tho food seemed to be uncalled for, and it was wiser not to disclose her recognition of her hostess. An hour or two later tho slamming of tho liouse-door and the grating of a key suggested that Mrs. Coyle had departed Constance could only speculate on the nature of tho old woman's " business," but it was probably connected with the letter which one of these bony wrists had snatched. A rendezvous had doubtless been arranged with Inspector Coyle when the purloined letter would be handed over to him. What would happen then, and why tho inspector wanted tho letter, was beyond imagining. Unles he was endowed with a. clairvoyance beyond tho common he oould not have known what she intended to write and what bearing the letter would have on bis own nefarious plans. Nor, for tho matter of that, could he have more than guessed at who was to bo the recipient of the communication. AH of which argument showed that Miss Constance Eden made this mistake of underestimating tho mental powers of her opponent- for no better reason than that his official address was New Scotland Yard. With a little more experience she would have known that a high priest of the big Crime Temple on tho Embankment is not necessarily a fool. And, piecing together her conversation with Coyle while travelling with him, she recollected her rash confidence about her father's diary. He would naturally wish to prevent it falling into the hands of Sir Jocelyn Eversley's chief partisan. Yes, it must have been at the instigation of her sleuthing son that Mrs. Coyle had used her bony wrists to grab tho letter to Mrs. Barstow. Constance's deductions were fairly sound in tho main, but she fell into one radical error. The person who slammed tho door, turned the key, and left the house was not Mrs. Coyle. No tawdry cap adorned locks which were far from grizzled, and that badge of the seaside landlady, tho black bombazine gown, wa3 not in ovidence. In fact the person was not dressed as a female at all. Tho man made his way to the Freshwater station of the Isle of Wight Railway, booked to Yarmouth and was thence transported to tho mainland in tho first boat leaving. Four hours later he was in London. In tho meanwhile, to preserve the proper sequence of the narrative, wo must follow the movements of Inspector Coyle on tho previous day. For once in his long career the inspector was guilty of a breach of discipline. Sir William Macintyre had bidden him report for general duty at headquarters that afternoon. Mr. Coyle did not even obey his superior officer by as much as proceeding to London. He remained in the neighbourhood of his mother's cottage, doing a little " shadow" work and ho was thus an unseen witness of tho assault which deprived Miss Eden of her letter on the way to post. Which was why the inspector, cognisant of how the unconscious girl was returned to the cottage, was lurking in the background when the " person" quitted his mother's humble abode next morning. After a moment's reflection Coyle satisfied himself that ho would better serve hi 3 purpose by following tho man than by haunting the girl whom ho shrewdly suspected had been rendered harmless by the abstraction of the letter and by what had befallen her subsequently. As a result of his decision Coyle steamed into Waterloo Station in the same train that had brought the person whose evil designs he desired to thwart. It did not occur to him that his own designs were equally evil, and that as he had thrown off tho yoke of discipline ha could not expect his action to be protected by official sanction. The habit of years, to regard himself as infallible because he was a servant of the crown, was not easy to throw off, even though he had flouted the commands of his superior officer. Ho felt, himself fortified with all tho prestige of tho Yard when he stood listening at the outer door of Mrs. Barstow's flat in Mowlem Street, Holborn. Tho inspector rang tho bell, and instantly there was a cessation of the little. fluttering sounds within. A moment | later the door slid open and the man j whom ho had trailed from Freshwater j stood gaping at tho visitor. No sign of recognation passed between them, nor indeed was thero any outward semblance between tho man in the doorway and anyone Coylo had ever seen before. "Mrs. Barstow live here?" the inspector inquired curtly. " She does, but she is not at homo," was the reply. " I can tako a message for her if you care to leave one." " I would rather write a note if you will grant me the facilities," said Coyle. " I presume you aro a relative of the good lady 1" The question elicited no answer, but tho man in the doorway stepped politely aside, motioning tho other to enter. " Come in and write by all means," he invited. " There is a tablo with stationery on it in this room. I will leave ycu to it, but a shout will fetch me if you want anything. I shall only be across tho passage." The inspector nodded affably and sat down at the table. His questing eyes had already told him that the room contained all that ha wanted—a telephone. Tho moment he was alone he rang up and -gave a number. The number eviddently meant more than a mere sequenco of figures to tho young lady at tho exchange, for ho was " put through" with amazing celerity. " That you Sir William ?" he spoke into tho instrument. "Good! It's Coylo speaking from 17 Mowlem Street, flat 3, on second floor. I wish to effect the arrest of a man now on tho premises, but I am single-handed. Will you send along some help?" " What caso aro you working on ?" Sir William's tones cauies over tho wire. Thero was an ominous crispness in tho voico, "which Coylo did not like at all. He prevaricated clumsily, which is always a mistake. If you must lie, put a few artistic touches into it. " I hardly know which of two or three cases I am on," replied the wretched delinquent. " They all suspect each other, like a blessed maze. The murder of that old playwright at the Cormorant Club is what I want to pinch this chap for. There will probably bo other charges later." Tho chief at the Yard did not hurry his answer. That was the longest half minute over spent by tho inspector. ' " Seo here, Coyle," came tho voico of Jove at last. " I ordered vou back to j headquarters for general duty yesterday. ! Instead of reporting at the Yard you i seem to be playing about on your own. j I have assigned a good " man to the case you mention, and to the others alluMted to it. I cannot lie])) you with! reinforcements, nor is it likely that anv I arrest you might make would lead to n,' conviction, smco you have cut, yourself! adrift Jrom authority. You had better ..omo uack to the Yard at once and see j ', our J ' s open to you. We don't tolerate gross disobedience, v ou Know or ought to." " I acted for the best," Coylo spluttered into the instrument. "Well, if you have got into a holo vou will have to get out of it by your own unaided efforts," rejoined tho chief, and he curtailed further conversation bv'rimring off. ■ & Poor Coyle's unaided efforts did not amount to much. Ho had scarcely replaced the receiver on its hook when his throat was gripped from behind bv what wemed lnje hoops of steel.

(COPYRIGHT).

At the same timo there breathed in his ear a voice which ho recognised as that i of the individual he had surprised in the flat: ! '"You swine, so you would double-cross me, would you? No, I'm not going to kill you, much as you deserve it. Disgrace, l will suit your complaint better than death." A sickly smell stole up tho inspector's nostrils from an impregnated rag, and he slej)t the sleep of the unjust. An hour or two later a closed motorvan stopped outside the street door of 17.' Mowlem Street, and two burly men earned a huge crate tip to tho flat of Mrs. Barslow. They were met at the entrance by a trailing man who seemed to know them very well. "Come in, boys," ho welcomed them. "The goods are all ready." When the crate was carried clown again and be'-toved in the van it was addressed to Sir William Macintyre, New Scotland \ a rd. And in addition it bore tho inscription: "Upturned empty." "JJu not deliver it till to-morrow morning," was the final instruction by the smiling director of the operation. CHAPTER XLII. THE CRATE. On returning from business between six and seven o'clock Mrs. Barstow found her ilat in perfect order. There was no sign of the treble intrusion of the afternoon — nothing to show that a violent assault had taken place there or that a shining liErht of Scotland Yard had been roughly treated. The furniture was right side up, and the general air of primness that was characteristic of the chaste abode prevailed. Yet, on her retiring to rest, an incident occurred which told that at least one unwarranted intrduder had been present in the flat during the day. She was "doing her hair" before the looking-glass on the toilet table when she espied among her litter of scent bottles and face creams a much-smoked briar pipe. Her modesty rehelled against such an unholy legacy, denoting the entry of a forgetful stranger of the male sex, and she at once instituted an exhaustive examination of her slender stock of valuables. Nothing was missing, Whatever the principles of the bequeather of the pipe had been —honest or otherwise. they had not culminated in any visible act of dishonesty. Hence her telegram next morning, in replv to Mainprise's prepaid, that Constance was not at the flat, and that, though the latter bad been buiglariously entered, nothing was missing. The good Mrs. Barstow had no idea what a train of circumstances her innocent reply was to set in motion. After breakfast next morning, as she was about to start for the library, she had an opportunity for reporting the entry. A couple of Criminal Investigation detectives called upon her to impure if she could tell them anything about Inspector Coyle of their department. Iho Assistant Commissioner, Sir William Macintvre, on the previous day, had received a telephonic call purporting to come from the inspector at .Mrs. Barstow's flat. Sir William had ordered Coyle to come to the Yard, but he had not yet arrived. Mrs. Barstow informed her visitors that she had not seen Mr. Coyle, but that some unauthorised person had been in her fiat during her absence, leaving his pipe on the toilet table. Tho detectives thanked her and ,asked to see the pipe, expressing the opinion that Mr. Coyle would never have used such a filthy apparatus for inhaling nicotine. With her permission, however, they took the pipe away with them. At the office she found the telegram from Mainprice inquiring if Constance was at the flat, and she replied to it in the terms already recorded. What was the girl up to, 'she wondered, that her employer should have to wire as to her whereabouts ? Constance had a latch key of the flat. Could it be possiblo that she had entertained the owner of the foul pipe? Being a woman of sense, Mrs. Barstow promptly dismissed the notion as untenable. Her neice was riot that sort of girl. Unless under compulson she would not have accompanied or admitted a strange man to the flat, and the man who could smoke that pipe must be a very strange man—in every sense of tho word. Being genuinely fond of her dead sister's orphan child, she sent another telegram to Mr. Mainprice, asking for fuller explanation, but that telegram remained unanswered for the good reason that the rector had left home in search of tho housekeeper who was also bis sweetheart. While the good lady was awaiting the arrival of Llio telegram which never came the wheels of chance were expediting the Ileverend Cyril Mainprice's object in another part of London. The wheels were attached to a motor-van which was somewhat diffidently driven into the railed-in space that encloses poiico headquarters on the Thames embankment. The driver and his mate, two rough-looking fellows, eyed askance a group of plain-clothes officers loitering outside the, main entrance of the great building, but they concluded that the " cops " meant them no harm and they brought their vehicle to anchor in front of the big .roadway. " Crate of goods for Sir William Macintyre," chanted the driver. " Does the bloke bang out licsre?" One of the senior detectives stepped forward and glanced doubtfully at the package for delivery. " Sir William Macintyre hangs out here all right, but it's another matter how to »ct that 'rate up to his private room on the second floor," was the reply. "Is it heavy?" " Middlin'," said the driver. "What's in it?" inquired the C.I.D. man, scratching his head with a briar pipe on which all the driver's interest concentrated. "What's in it?" the driver repeated dreamily. "We did hear tell as it was goat's meat, though it's marked 'returned empty.' See here, mister! Me and my mate'will carry the crate into the entrance hall yonder. Then the consignee can come "downstairs and unpack it. No need to tote it up fo the second floor." The suggestion was adopted, and the crate having been deposited at the foot of the main staircase, the. two motor-men vanished with amazing celerity. As he climbed to his wheel the chief vanman s gaze was still riveted on the pipe in the detective officer's hand. He nudged his mate. _ " We must hop it smart, out of this, bo whispered. " That cove has got the pipe I left in the flat vestidday. He'll want to know things when that crato is unpacked, "fain't healthy for the likes of us hereabouts." So it was that when S'r William Macmtyro descended to the ball and inspected the crate addressed to him tho van that hud brought it. bad already lumbered out on to the embankment. By the chief's orders the carpenter of the establishment soon had tho wooden receptacle open, revealing to the astounded bystanders tho apparently lifeless form of Inspector Covle. But, divested of tho straw in which it was parked, the body yielded signs of pulse and heart, movement to the " first-aid " expert who examined it, and tho resident surgeon was quickly in attendance. " No wounds, but a dose of dope that would have knocked out a chap with cardiac I rouble," was the professional verdict..- "Take him up to my quarters and put. him in the spare bedroom. 1 will have him under my eve then, and it will bc> toucii-and go whether he recovers." How long has he been like that, doctor?" inquired Sir William. Whatever was coming to him was handed out about, four o'clock yesterday afternoon," was the answer, accompanied by a second raising of tho unconscious inspector's oveUds for a prolonged staro into tho sightless orbs. " Have my car brought round," Sir William snapped at his orderly. " And you, inspector xewins, hold yourself in readi--1 ness to accompany inc into tho country. Detail two good men to come along, and see that you and they are armed. I have I to go up to my room to verify an address and then we shall start." .

CHAPTER XLIII. SCENT AND RIMLESS GLASSES. That indefinable sense which warned Cyiil Mainprice of hidden danger weighed upon him with a strange oppression as he stepped into Mrs. Coyle's cottage at the invitation of its tenant. Nor did tho feeling which had prompted his hand to drop on to the butt of hi 3 pistol relax as he followed her into the room to tho right of the passage. Ho was tingling all over liko a cat in a thunderstorm. The atmosphere simply reeked of menace. Mainprice's eyes pried like gimlets into the angular female apparition that preceded him, and then, suddenly, his nose came to the aid of his j eyes. One of the reasons that had caused j him to take a dislike to Simon Kite had been that Kite used scent. Lurking in the stagnant air of old Mrs. Coyle's parlour there was a distinct trace of the cheap perfume affected by the Villiers Street practitioner. Invited in dumb show to be seated, ; Mainprice took a chair opposite the settee : on which his hostess enthroned herself, j "So you were expecting me?" ho said dryly. "At least, you asserted as much when I confessed that my interest was in the young lady who came with your son, Inspector Coyle. I suppose the inspector warned you that scrtneone would come along in quest of Miss Eden ?" Mrs. Coyle's sight appeared to be poor. She blinked at the inquirer through the rimless spectacles which had another message for him. She took them oft, wiped them, and blinked at him again. "What's the girl to you?" she croaked viciously. Still, with a great effort, Mainprice restrained himself. "She happens to be my housekeeper," he said. "More likely your mistress," was the coarse rejoinder. Which snapped things to breakingpoint. "You infernal scoundrel!" shouted the clerical investigator, drawing his automatic. "Hands up, Simon Kite! I smelt and saw through your disguise. What you have done with the woman you are personating will have to be explained later. For tho moment I demand to be informed what you know of Miss Eden." Mainprice had raised his voice in the denunciation, and almost as if in answer there rang down the stairs the loud cry: "Cyril! Up hero at tho top of the bouse!" The hands of the fantastic female figure had shot up at the stern command, but they began to whirl now like the sails of a windmill. For a fraction of a second Mainprice's aim had wavered as he half turned to listen to the cry for help. Taking advantage of the diversion, Kite leaped upon his adversary, his long, apeisli arms encircling Mainprice's neck and jerking the pistol from bis grasp. Both men fell to the ground. From the nature of the assault Kite naturally fell on top. And, being a gentleman always prepared for emergencies, on top he remained. When last ho had been in contact with Inspector Coyle, which was when that zealous officer was being boxed up in the crate, he had relieved him of the handi cuffs carried bv the C.1.1). man rather as | a badge of authority than for practical ! purposes. Whipping the steel wristlets j out of his pocket—he wore his_own clothes ! ur: ler the woman's dress —Kite quickly reduced his adversary to impotence. Tho victor rose from tho fray and inflicted a savage kick on the ribs of the prone clergyman. "So much for you, Mr. Clever," he mouthed at his victim. "I am going to fetch your girl so that she may gloat over your plight. Incidentally, I shall renew | the love-making so rudely interrupted by you the other day on the beach." Stripping off his feminine attire, he tossed the rusty black dress into a corner and ran out of the room. Mainprice heard his steps on the stairs and a moment later a heartrending shriek rang out. "Cyril! Save me, Cyril!" echoed through the house. Mainprice's opinion of himself had dropped to zero in the last, few minutes. He could only curse the carelessness which had landed him in such a hobble — curse and do nothing. Not an edifying condition for an ambitious aspirant to the honours of the late Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock would never have been rushed like that by a suspect whose game ho'had seen through. For Mainprice had seen through the impersonator of old Mrs. Coyle from the moment when she opened tho door of the cottage to him and her unwomanly appearance in woman's guise had tightened his grip on his pistol. From the first lie had known he was confronted by an impostor, and in tho sitting room he had qmJ.dv learnt from the scent and the rimless glasses who the impostor was. The scent and the glasses had simply shouted "Kite" at him. And now the pistol was lying on the floor two yards away and might as well have been two miles for all tho use it would be to him if ho rolled over anu touched it with his manacled hands. The door opened and Kite reappeared, pushing Constance before him. At sight of her helpless lover she sank on her knees at his side. "Get tho key of the handcuffs," he whispered. "It is in the right-hand pocket of his waistcoat. Then watch out to set me free. Play up, dear.'* Constance played up, though there was very little scheming in the method of her play. As she said afterwards, it was sheer instinct that prompted her to sham a faint and so enforce the ministrations of Mr. Kite. It was while he was bending over lier. holding a glass of brandy to her lips, that she picked his waistcoat pocket. With the key of tho handcuffs in her possession the rest was easy. Within a minute of her feigned collapse Mainprice had regained his pistol and was covering Kite with its uglv blue r uzzle. Ilis first aim was for the miscreant's heart, but suddenly he dropped his hand to a lower level. " I am not taking any more chances," he said, and plugged Mr. Kite through tho kneecap. Having disabled his enemy, Mainprice was not the man to withhold " first aid." Calling Constance to his assistance, he bound up tho injured leg, staunched the bleeding and eased the patient's position with cushions from the sofa. All the Good Samaritanism was practised under fire of the most fearsome language ever hurled from tho foulest of tongues. The clinical operations were hardly finished when a high-powered car purred to a standstill outside the cottage. There followed a pounding on the front door. Kite's glances darted about like those of a trapped rat. Was this an interlude that would help him ? " See who it is. Miss Eden, please," said Mainprice. " This brute c.-nnot run. but he is so cunning I dare not leave him." Constance went out, to return almost immediately with a fierce-looking old man whoso bristling white moustache bespoke | tho former warrior. "Sir William Macintyre," she announced the newcomer with no great show of interest. The name which stank in tho nostrils of evil-doers all over the world had no terrors for her. Kit.o squirmed back on his pillows with a muttered curse. There was no relief to bo expected from .that quarter. " Sir Wi'liam!" cried Mainnrice, rising and extending his hand. " I was never in my life, more pleased to see anyone. How on earth did you hear of our little difficulties ?" Tho commissioner looked puzzled, but slnjok hands warmly. "My dear fellow,," ho said, " don't flatter yourself that lam hero on your account. If you are in difficulties T am sorry for you, but I know nothing of them. I came down to see Mrs. Coyle. I have, bad news for her. Her son, tho inspector, was up against it yesterday among a gang of crooks who, after nearlv doing him in, consigned him to mo at tho Yard in a packing-crate. If the old lady wants to sec her son alive she must bustle nn and come back to town with me. It will tako us all our timo to get, there to day, even if wo exerciso our privilege of breaking speed limits." (To be continued daily.)