THE MIDDLE BRIDGE MYSTERY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIV, Issue 19732, 3 September 1927, Page 16 (Supplement)

THE MIDDLE BRIDGE MYSTERY.

BY J. B. HARRIS-BURLAND,

CHAPTER XVI. It was a curious scene in the library at Grimthorpe—the hands of the clock at half-past two. Lord Courtland partly dressed, and rather magnificent in a dres-sing-gown of dark purple silk—Lord Courtland seated as some jndgo might be seated in a very finely carved mahogany chair, with a tablo in front of him, and on the other side of the table, Sir Richard Starling, the prisoner, his face grimed, one eye closed, his lip cut and bleeding, but smiling. A little way to the left of him, in an arm-chair, John Harrington, smoking a cigarette, his legs crossed, his face very grave, and his eyes fixed not on Lord Courtland, but on Furnace, still without his dinner jacket, his face unmarked, but a queer dazed look in his eyos. " H'm, I see!" said Lord Courtland, after ho had listened to a brief statement about the fire and the fight that had followed it. " Very awkward—for all of us—most unfortunate. You say—or —you were knocked out, Mr. Furnace, though I must say Sir Richard looks as if he'd bad the worst of it." " Yes, I bit him all over the place, but he got a good one home on the point, and if wo hadn't been old pals, he might have left me to burn. I waa all for letting him go, but Harrington would not hear of it. I mean, Harrington had a pistol with him, and—" " No, yon mustn't put it like that, Mr. Furnace," said Harrington. " Sir Richard has committed arson, and had stolen certain papers belonging to the late Lord Courtland, and I insisted on his arrest. It is not my business to fire at criminals, whether they have committed arson or murder. I know mv duty as a citizen." " Well, anyhow, Lord Courtland," said Furnace, " you will understand that a pistol has a remarkably soothing effect. Sir Richard Starling not only consented to come here and see you, but insisted upon it." " Very awkward, I'm sure—very unpleasant. What do yon want to 6CO me about Sir Richard ? " " I'd like a drink, Pennant —I mean Lord Courtland—in fact, I'm sure that neither Mr. Harrington nor Mr. Furnace would refuse a drink. Then I propose that we discuss this matter amicably. All our nerves are on edge—l'm not, of course, referring to you, Lord Courtland. You will sit there, calm and majestic, while we discuss —well, what wo have to discuss." Lord Courtland shrugged his shoulders. Grimthorpe was not yet fully staffed, but a new and young footman had been roused by the fire at the summer-house, and ha#* been told to sit up until further orders. Lord Courtland rang the bell, and ordered drinks and cigars. Harrington was obviously irritated. " I don't see that there is anything to discuss," he said abruptly, " and I think I'll get along home." " No, no, mv dear chap. Starling exclaimed. " "You are, if I may say so, the centre-piece. It is true that the limelight is more on Furnace, and my humble B elf, and, of course, his lordship is in a class by himself. We rely on his sane judgment to soothe our angry passions, and show us how we may all be friends. Furnace, you will kindly see that Harrington does not—escape." " Damn it all! " said Harrington, rising to his feet. "Do you think I'm a murderer ? " "Just as much a murderer as I am, my dear fellow, or Furnace, or his lordship, who really does look very fine in that purple silk dressing-gown." " I'll be off," said Harrington. You re all mad. But mind you, Furnace, I'll swear to the diary and the letter that werejiestroyed by the fire, and—" "Hush!* Starling interrupi/cl. You must stay here and your statement will be taken in due course. We all know something about the death of the late Lord Courtland. We must pool our knowledge and be quite friendly. \ou can't get out of it, Harrington. We can none of us get out of it. .Not even his lordship, all in purple, can escape the common duties of man, which is to get at the truth. Now, Harrington, as you are anxious to be off, you shall say what you have to say—" " Nothing—here—but in the proper place." " Nothing about your sister-in-law — that is to be." "Eh, what's that?" queried Furnace. " Nothing, my dear chap — any rate, that can wait. Now you yourself have something to tell us, Furnace, haven't you—something that will explain your extraordinary conduct on two occasions—when you pretended to bo someone who was not yourself, fcnd when you stole, or shall I say borrowed Mr. ( Harrington's jolly little car so that —?" You are talking nonsense," Furnace interrupted. "It is well-known that someone who bears a remarkable resemblance to me is mixed up somehow or other in this business. What we have to do is to find him." " And then where do I come in, my dear old chap ? Whera does Sii Richard Starling the man with the knife, the stealer of letters and diaries, the burnerdown of summer-houses, etc., etc. —where does ho come in ? And what are wo to say of Harold Grantley—" "Damn you!" said Harrington, striding forward, pistol in hand. "If you utter your lying slander about my sister-in-law—" • . , Starling smiled, and Furnace caught hold of Harrington's hand, disarming him with a quick movement of the fingers. " Steady, Mr. Harrington—this won't do. Sir Richard wants us to be quiet and friendly—pool our knowledge, as it were, and see if wo can't get at the truth. , Sir Richard at present denies the charge of arson; he says he was smoking cigarottes, and must have thrown a lighted match on to the tarred felt of the roof, j I do not know who is going to prove this statement false, and I think that by some extent we should be guided by Lord Courtland's wishes in the matter. After all it is his summer-house, and until recently, Sir Richard was a friend of his, and I don't think that Lord Courtland would care in ll any case —what does your lordship think, eh ? " " That it is time someone poured out the drinks. We all seem very irritable, and I can't see what anyone is driving at." Furnace laughed, mixed four whiskeys and sodas and handed them round with the cigars. Starling and Harrington drank greedily, but Lord Courtland did no more than put his lips to the edge of the glass. Everyone but Harrington lit a cigar. Ho filled his pipe. " I do not think," said Lord Courtland, - after a long silence, " that Sir Richard meant to burn the summer house. I do not wish any action taken against him in that respect. In fact, if any action is taken against Sir Richard, I shall say that I asked him to set fire to it—" " Ah, * you'd 6ay that, would you?" Furnace interrupted. " Certainly, Mr. Furnace. 1 detest the place. So long as it served you as a home, I was willing to let it alone, but I had marked it down for destruction. I told Sir Richard he could make a bonfire of it, if he liked." " Ah, when was that, Lord Courtland?" " When we first came up to look at the place." " While you and Sir Richard were still on good terms ?" " We're on good terms still. &iy daughter has changed her mind about marrying him, but I have nothing to do with that. If you have anything against Sir Richard, arrest him, but not for accidentally burning down that hideouß sum-mer-house." " Then we need only discuss the murder in the marshes," said Starling, glancing from Furnace to John Harrington. "J. think I suggested that we should each give our separate bits of knowledge, arrange—" " Not now," interrupted Furnace, " nor here-i-I will make proper arrangements—-

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later on, Sir Richard. I suppose I shall know where to find you tomorrow. Thank you for the lift up here, Harrington. I will walk back with you to the Lodge. Good night, Lord Courtland. I shall call on you about half-past eleven to-mor-row, if I may. Como alorl'g, Harrington." As they walked through tho park, Harrington grumbled at tho way he had been treated. " I thought at any rate you'd make an arrest," he Baid, " and as for that ridiculous fight, and treating Sir Richard as if ho was a pal. Why, you even let him threaten you—both of us." " Yes, he was spoiling for a fight, Mr. Harrington, but we have put that off for another day. And I have learnt more to-night than I have during the past three weeks. I have learnt that our friend, Starling, is in a very strong position. Lord Courtland does not wish Starjing to be arrested. Lord Courtland does not believe Starling to be guilty, and bears Starling no ill-will in spite of the engagement having been broken off so abruptly. And I shouldn't be surprised to learn that Miss Pennant and' Starling are still on quite good terms—" " Then it's just as I thought at first," Harrington broke in savagely. " Starling and the Pennants are all in the gamo, and Starling kilJed the old man so that George Pennant could inherit tho estates." " And therefore Molly Pennant jilted Starling, and Starling fell in love with your sister, etc., etc. ? No, my dear Harrington, it is not quiTe so simple as all that. But I can never bo grateful enough' to you for bringing me up here. Will you come in and have a drink ?" " No, thanks, not another. By-the-bye, my automatic—if you don't mind." " Yes, when we get to the Lodge. I'd like you to come in for a minute." When they reached the Lodge, Harrington followed the detective into a small well-lighted room. Furnace took tho pistol from his pocket. " Go easy with that kind of thing," he said, " a bullet isn't like a harsh word. It cannot be recalled. Now, you're worried about those letters and the diary. Don't worry about them. I have them in a safe hiding place. Starling has burnt the diary for the wrong year, and only the envelopes of the letters. - The contents of the envelopes were some old letters written by one of tho late Lord Courtland's sisters." "You set a trap for nim, eh?"- " Well, yes—l mean, it showed tho real importance of the letters if one could catch him stealing them —I'm afraid your sister, Harrington—" " Yes—of course—l'm afraid so —have you read the letters ?" Tho detective nodded. " Bad for Starling," he said quietly. I'll let you have a look at them one of these days. You didn't think I was going to let Starling get the better of me, did you ? We have him safe enough now." " Well, if that isn't Bplendid of you," laughed Harrington. "So you foxind them." "Of course. Was 1 likely to live in that room for a fortnight and not find everything hidden in it 7 There was something else, and I had to leave that. But I am going to look for that to-night in the ruins." " But why not have arrested Starling when you found the letters and the diary ?" " Because —well, it is difficult, to explain to a simple, honest gentleman like you. It amounts to this—that if you give a scoundrel enough rope, he will hang himself. Sir Richard Starling is now under the impression that he's got rid of half the evidence against him. He is young and playful and is going to kick~out like a colt with his heels. He is longing for a dramatic scene, and was rather inclined to make us sit up late to-night just to watch his triumph. He thinks he's got me over that 'double ' business —that I've got something to hide. He is certain he has you over some scandal connected with Mrs. Grantley. And he thinks he can make terms with you and me—pool tho evidence, he calls it. But the rope is round his neck, Harrington, and at any cost you must save your sister from marrying him." " Then you must arrest him to-mor-row—that's what I want—if he's arrested, ho can't get married. To-mor-row—early to-morrow." Mr. Furnace shook his head. " There are so many threads," he murmured. " I could not explain to you—you must use your influence with your sister. Ido not think Starling will "marry her until ho believes his position to be quite secure. To-night he brought the happy day much nearer, in his estimation. But he'll have to come to terms with us (that is how he looks at it) beforo ho feels quite safe. Still I'd like you for your own sake—for her sake—to keep them apart. I suppose you couldn't take her abroad ?" " Sho wouldn't go with me. 1 ' "Nor with Miss Keston ?" " I'm afraid not—but I might try. Yon see, there's a general row all round. My sister and Miss Keston aro still friends, but—well, I'll see what I can do. 1 suppose there is no doubt now that Sir Richard is guilty?" Furnace paused for a moment before ho replied. He picked up a pen-holder, examined the nib critically, and laid it down again. " There is a good deal to be cleared up," he said, " but I'm afraid there is no doubt whatever, that Starling killed Lord Courtland. The diary and the letters—and—well, I'm afraid a jury might convict. It is all very horrible for you." " And my sister. It is my sister I'm thinking of. If she'll give up this man, I'll do all in my power to save him—" " H'm!" said FUrnacc, with a smile, " and if he's your brother-in-law you'll hand him over to tho gallows. Queer chap you are, Harrington, I should say. Well, that's as it should be. You're mixed up in a very queer case. Even I must seem a bit odd to you." " Yes—like a nightmare," yawned Harrington. " I must be getting back or I'll bo having an accident." "Go easy with the pistol, my dear fellow. Wo don't work with those oldfashioned weapons in these days. We have to go very gently—very gently indeed. Just a few rounds with tho gloves off—-that's about all tho fighting we get nowadays." He hold out his hand, and Harrington shook it heartily. Ho had every confidence in this man. " The iron hand beneath the velvet glove," he said to himself, as he started the engine of tho X.Y.Z. " Tho perfect gentleman in the detective line," and then, aloud, " I shall be in all to-morrow, if you want mo. I have to give Miss Pennant a sitting at noon."

CHAPTER XVH. " They won't tell me anything about last night," complanied Miss Molly Pennant, descending for a short interval from her Egyptian queenlmess to the ordinary inquisitive woman. " I slept soundly, and never heard of the fire until my maid brought me my tea at eight o'clock. And now vou say you were there. Thev never told me that." "Oh, well, I don't count for much. I drove Furnace home—he'd got something wrong with his car, and we saw the place ablaze, and then Starling—" He paused, recalling the awkward situation. " Yes, Sir Richard. He was there. Father said so. It's all very mysterious. I feel out in the cold. No one will toll me anything." She spoke pettishly, but to Harrington, who was very sensitive to impressions, it seemed that she did not really take very much interest in the affair. Twenty minutes of the sitting had elapsed before she had mentioned it at all. " I am not used to being treated like a child," she continued. " But ever since I've been in England, people have said ' H'sh!' and put a finger to their lips if I've been near. And everyone is so queer—father and the Grantleys, yes, and you, too. Sometimes when you look at me, I go cold all down the spine."

Harrington laughed. More than once Molly Pennant had looked so extraordinarily beautiful that his admiration had been almost too evident. But coldness? Well, perhaps she was making fun of him. " Come, we musn't waste time," he said. " Now if you'll just sit straight up and throw back your head a little—" " The queenly attitude," she laughed softly. " But I don't feel like it at all. Do you know, Mr. Harrington, I think you're going to make this portrait a bit to<P-too grand." What was the matter with the girl today ? On previous occasions she had sat almost in silence, and had spoken to him rather as she might h#ve spoken to a photographer. But this morning she was more human. She had been very interested in the picture of the Middle Bridge and had said: "You mustn't make fun of dear Mr. Furnace. I think he's perfectly sweet," and she had altogether been more chatty and ordinary. It was almost as though she vjjshed to get rid of her reputation for "quecrness.' "We really must get on, Miss Pennant," said Harrington, ratbier angrily. " No, that won't do at all. The head must be drawn a little back, but not thrown back as if you'd been hit under the jaw—here, let me show you. You had the position so absolutely right before." He went up to her and shifted the position of her left arm. Then he took her white oval face in his two hands, and lowered the chin an inch. Her eyes were close to his, and they were like toft blue flames. Her scarlet lips were parted in a faint, mysterious smile. That was Just the expression he had wanted, but le was too close to it. He had imagined her looking at one of her subjects. But he was—well, too close to her. He should have stood back to get the general effect. The inevitable happened. The eyes seemd to invite him, and he accepted the invitation. He had scarcely to move more than his hands to bring their lips together. And even then it would have been the slightest silliest sort of kiss, if she had not put her hands to the back of his head and held him aa her victim for five seconds. "You dear," Bho said. " You are a dear—now lot us get on with the portrait." He had tastd the wine of madness, and he wanted to drink of it again. His hands trembled, and his grey eyes were aflame. Ho would have caught her up in his arms, if she had not'risen and stepped backward. "We musn't be silly," she said, " You must paint me now I am looking my best." She was looking her best. She was magnificent—splendid. It was as though he had roused something in her that had hitherto slept. Pygmalion and Galatea," he said to himself, and then aloud, " I've behaved like an utter cad, Miss Pennant—l—don't suppose you will ever forgive me." " Never—if you talk like that," she laughed. "We are both human beings, after all, aren't we, Jack ?" Jack! Oh, heavens, had it come to that ? And yet he saw how much more sensible she was than the man who had called her " Miss Pennant." A man and a woman cannot kiss in that sort of way, even for a few seconds, and call each other by anything but their Christian name. " Yes, Molly," he answered, and laughed as if to make a joke of it. " Creatures of impulse—yes, I must get that expression on your face. Sit down, that's a dear girl, and—oh, don't bother about the hands and arms just for the minute. Look at me as you looked at me just now." He seized his palette and worked feverish for a-quarter of an hour. He was not a great artist, and as a portrait painter he was considered to be far below the average. But as it is often given to the humblest of us to do some one thing really well, so it was given to John Harrington to achieve a great work of art in a few minutes. He was aghast when he looked at it—when, thoroughly exhausted by the speed and fury of his painting he walked to the far end of the studio " Someone else did that," he gasped, " —some devil working with my hands." That was how he saw it—the work of a great artist who had sold his soul to the devil. No really decent man could have nainted that face—so like the face of the Egyptian " Mona Lisa " and yet ablaze with evil. " A woman," he said to himself, ** who would wreck a world for love. How furious she will be with me." But Molly Pennant showed no signs of anger as she stared critically at the portrait. " It may or may not be like me," she said, " but at any rate you've done something worth doing—if you leave it alone—don't mess about with the face." And then, after a pause, " I never thought you had it in you, Jack." His Christian name struck across his thoughts like a whip. The memory of the kiss came back to him. Had "that been his inspiration ? Was it that unfortunate episode which had stirred his feeble abilities to a kind of queer madness ? " It's not bad," he said. "At any rate, it's better than anything I've done before." He lit a cigarette and tried to be just an ordinary young man talking about his own achievements. She came down from her throne, and walked slowly toward him—stood between him and the picture. " Yes, you have to thank me for that, at any rate," she said after a long silence. " I'm satisfied you'll try and make it better—more finished you'd call it. But if you try and do fcnat you'll spoil it. Promise me that you will devote all the rest of your skill and energy to the pose of the hands and limbs, and the dress, which is magnificent—" " The dress! "he cried out. " I'd like to—to tear it off altogether—if only you —oh, merciful Heavens, what am I talking about ? I mean—l hate this portrait business. I like painting professional models—that musty old fancy dress—" A peal of laughter came from the doorway behind him, and looking sharply round, he saw Dora Keston, clad almost entirely in leather. " You mustn't mind him, Miss Pennant," she said. "Ho gets carried away like that. He tried to paint mo once in this get up, and leather, as you know, is frightfullv difficult to paint, so he said—" " Oh, shut up, Dora," Harrington interrupted. " You make it worse. Molly knows what I • mean—a gorgeous dress painted very carefully is enough to destroy any picture of a woman's face." " Molly," said Dora, to herself. "So it has come to that, has it?" and then her eyes were attracted and held by the picture. And her cheerful little soul seemed suddenly to be adrift in some great, cold, empty space where there was nothing but wind and darkness and stars. " What do you think of it ? " asked Miss Pennant. " I don't belive Jack ever painted that," she replied. "He couldn't do it. besides it is not in the least like you. It is too—too—" ■ " Wicked ? " laughed Molly Pennant. "No, theatrical—you know what 1 mean—as if you were Cleopatra or something of that sort. People don't have their portraits painted like that." Her voice was quivering, with anger. She could not say straight out what she wished to say, which was to the effect that she would have " no more of this sort of rot." " I must change into less theatrical clothes," said Molly Pennant pleasantly, " and then get back to lunch Father is so worried about the fire. You've heard about that, Miss Keston—oh, well, Mr. Harrington will tell you all about it." She left the room and Dora Keston stared sullenly at the portrait. " I shall never do anything as great as that again," said Harrington. But if that is shown in London I'll get more commissiorts to paint portraits than I can ever accept." She took his arm and looked up into his face. "Jack, dear," she whispered, "that is the face of a woman who is in love." " Very likely," he laughed. " Now I mnst tell you about the fire—and last night. Thingß are moving to a crisis." CTo be continued on Saturday oexD