THE BADGE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVI, Issue 20241, 29 April 1929, Page 20

THE BADGE.

I BY BEN BOLT.

CHAPTER XXV. Inspector Walton followed tha Ma'jor into the dining room, acecpted the whisky and a cigarette, which his host offered him, then ha looked afc Darling, whose clothes as he stood in front of the fire, were beginning to steam.

" By jingo, major," he cried suddenly. "'You're soaking!"- " Yes," answered Darling in a matter of fact ? voice. " I've been up to the chin in water very recently." " Then without any further explanation he asked " How did you know Mallinsou was down here ?"

" Made a long shot," tnswered the Inspector with a laugh. " I knew you were keen on finding him and I had an eye kfipt on your movements."

" You shadowed me, Walton ?" asked the Major abruptly. "More or less!" The Inspector laughed. " Don't get a temperature. It was for your good. You told me that you had identified Mallinson with Pere Tabac, and I had a fancy that if Pere Tabac-Mallinson had recognised you, then you might be in need of rssistance." " As a matter of fact —I have been. But I found the help I needed from the most unexpected quarter." " That so?" The Inspector showed a polite curiosity —then/ an odd listening look came on his face, and wondering what had brought it there Darling himself listened and caught a light step on the stairs outside the room. He guessed the identity of the person whose feet ho heard and was in some doubt what to do. Before his mind was made up Celie Dauvray entered the room. She was a little taken aback as she sow the visitor, and was on the point of retreat when tho Major saw his way out of a difficulty. " Mademoiselle Dauvray, may I introduce Lispector Walton of whom you may have heard—or read?"

A look of sharp apprehension came in the girl's dark eyes, her face flushed painfully, then the blood receded leaving her deadly white. Tho Inspector was so surprised that he forgot his manners completely.

"Mademoiselle Dauvray!" ho ejaculated staring at. his friend incredulously. "Yes! an essential witness, I fancy, in the Barnsdale case; and one who can at any rate prove tho innocence of John Dorrington." " I never believed Dorrington guilty of that business," said Inspector Walton, recovering a little from his surprise. " Btit others do. And mademoiselle here can tell you that Mallinson s story of his relations with Barnsdale was largely fiction, she can also tell you that Mallinson supplied Dorrington with those clothes ho wore which were Barnsdaie's, that he lent Dorrington Barnsdaie's car to go away in, and that he took cnarge of' Dorrington's convict suit which was found by Barnsdaie's corpse. 1 fancy Dorrintiton himself could tell you even more; and no doubt lie will at the proper time —when you ve got'Mallinson!" "Ah! You know where Dornngun

1S At the question Celie Dauvray gave a start that drew the inspector's eyes to her and her beautiful face expressed such acute dismay, that a man must have been blind not to have suspected something. Walton's face grew suddenly keen. He looked from the girl to Darling who showed no sign of apprehension, and then the ghost of a smile played in his eyes as he repeated his question. _ "Yon know where Dorrington is? " Yes!" answered the major with a short laugh. " He's in bed in the room above this recovering from the results of an attempt on his life made by Derek Mallinson."

" So!" . . . The two men looked at each other with complete understanding, then Darling turned to the girl. " Mademoiselle, you may leave us, but there is not any need to alarm our patient." Celie's expression of acute apprehension gave place to one of relief. She flashed a look of gratitude at the inspector then fled from the room. Walton shrugged his shoulders and looked at the major with speculative eyes. "You think I shall be blind?" The major laughed outright. " Blinkered. blind and dumb—for a while." " I shall require persuading," said the other suggestively. "All right. Look at me! Note the steam. As you remarked a little time ago—l am soaking. I'll tell you how it came out." He told the story succinctly and the inspector turned and listened carefully without interruption. At the end he spoke. "Urn! Tabac-Mallinson is a slip of hell. And plainly ho feared Dorrington." " Yes! Because when Dorrington broko prison he found Barnsdale dead in Mallinson's garage at The Firs, killed with that spanner that was found. More than that, before he found the house he heard a man—Barnsdale presumably—cry out: * For God's sake—don't!'" " Pretty conclusive—taken with the evidence you say that girl can give and with that ghastly business in the millrace outside." "Yes! I thought you'd see it so, Walton." The inspector laughed shortly. " Oh, I've seen quite a lot lately." He reached for and lit a fresh cigarette, then inquired abruptly: "Tell me why you went to that house at Barking Reach the other night?" "So you know about that?" " Just know—nothing more. Man who was shadowing you followed you there and noted one or two odd things. But lie had orders not to interfere except to help you, and he didn't. Merely reported to me. Was that . . . er, er . . • shall we say legitimate business, or had it to do with this Mallinson-Dorringtori affair ? Place has a rotten reputation and I've been wondering ever since what game you were on ?" " Tell me what you know about Linden House first, Walton." " Oh, quite a lot. Just after the, war it was taken by a Doctor Bankstoke who ran it as a private asylum for shell-shock cases. It was registered and had a considerable clientele. But after a time there were . irregularities and finally there was a charge of brutal treatment of a case bv one of the staff, a Frenchman name of Ciron. Patient died and Ciron was sent to penal servitude. Ho died at Princeton a little while back "

" Ah!" Frenchv!" ejaculated tho major excitedly. " Didn't know you were acquainted," laughed the inspector. But the case sent the business of Linden House sky high, for when the Yard got busy and investigated, it turned out that Bankstoke was a fraud. The real Bankstoke died of wounds at Rouen in the war, and the follow who used his name and papers was a fake. Ho saved himself by cutting before the Yard could act; tho furnishings were collared for debt. There's a portrait of tho pseudo Bankstoke taken by one of his patients. I have it with me."

He produced the photo from a pocketliook, tho reproduction by an expert photographer of a crude, amateurish snapshot, and as he handed it over Darling looked at it keenly. It- was the portrait of a man of strong cquiline features who affected a beard Spreading fan-wise pver his chest, and

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with eyes the keenness of which was not hidden even by the American tortoiseshell rimmed goggles that he wore. The first look told the major the truth. Tho second confirmed it.

" Pore Tabac-Mallinson.," he said with a little touch of excitement in his voice.

" The devil," ejaculated the inspector "You are sure?"

" Quite! I know Pere Tabac as I told you, and have good occasion to remember him. When I knew him in that incarnation he wore a beard like this—but no goggles. Extraordinary how those shellrims rule out the individuality, isn't it?"

" But . . . Linden House ? What was the fellow doing there? It's the last place " " Looking for a secret that was hidden there by Frenchy—tho man Ciron who died at Dartmoor."

"Secret? What " " Of the hiding place of old Dauvray's gem collection. " The inspector was electrified. He jumped to his feet and stared incredulously at his friend. " You mean that it was there at Linden House." "Yes! ... By jove!" » What " " It just occurred to me that the whole raison d'etre of Linden House as an asylum was in that secret. Mallinson had got hold of some man who held it —say the patient who died—and was trying to get his hands on it. Ciron was his instrument and one of his crowd. But Ciron played crooked, and getting the truth hid it at the house at Barking Reach, from which Mallinson had to run after the exposure you spoke of." " And he went there to get it the other night, hey V broke in the inspector. " Don't know. He guessed it was there, I fancy. But ho didn't find it himself. Dorrington found it." Dorrington! How the dickens did he get wind of it ?" " From No. 54, the convict who was shot trying to escape with him. Frenchy Ciron told No. 54 when he was dying in the prison hospital, and No. 54 passed it on when he was put out of the runing by the warder's carbine." Inspector Walton whistled softly for a moment, then asked a question: "You say Dorrington got it ?" "Yes! But Mallinson has it now!" "Yes! And he's gone to gather the spoil, hey ?" " I should say he is on his way to France—" Ah ! It's there."

" Yes. But Dorrington has the secret, and barring—er—shall we say legal accidents? —will get there first." " You seem confident, Major.". "Yes! I've good reasons."

Forthwith he launched into an account of the two men whom Mallinson had left behind, and set forth Dorrington's conviction that the chief scoundrel meant to cheat his confreres and secure the whole treasure for himself.

" Just what he would do," commented the inspector. " And if he succeeds, that will make the others mad enough to give evidence against him. If Igo straight to Chateau Lanson in Picardy, 1 stand a good chance of gathering the whole crowd there." " Unless Mallinson shakes the others 02 en route. Yes!" "You think he'll do that?" " He'll try." But if someone is waiting for him at the other place, Dauvray " " Myself, Dorrington, the tinker here, and another man whom I know, for instance ?"

" Dorrington!" The inspector laughed. " You're for making me an accessory to a felony." " I'm rather more a criminal than that myself. I've helped him to keep clear of re-capture. So I've gone the whole hog as regards the felony." Inspector Walton nodded. " Dorrington's got. a good pal, Major." " And I've another, Walton." " Um! If you knew the time I'll have with my official conscience, you'd say so!" laughed the inspector. " But it's a one-sided affair." " No! I've a conviction that Mallinson or some of his crowd is mixed up in the original business that sent Dorrington to Dartmoor. I've no solid ground of course, but just what the Americans call a hunch. Barnsdale was in that business, and he was mixed up in some way with the Mallinson crowd. We may get the truth out of one of them—and I'll pass you my promise that Dorrington will not try to clear out, if we do."

"I'm not taking it." The inspector laughed. " There might be a slip somewhere, ar.d I'm not keen on sending Dorrington back to Dartmoor. I shall leave it to your conscience. Peru TabacMallinson is the big game, and if I get him "

" The Surete will have something to say about your lifting him from French soil, since he's badly wanted." " Not if I get my warrants, and assure the Surete that he'll be hung as high as Haman. Besides I may get him before he gets out of England. When did he leave here ?"

" Say three hours ago!" " Then it's time I was moving. I've got to get to a telephone " " Then you can walk as far as the next room. There's one there. And I'm expecting a call myself every minute." "Good! I'll use it, if you'll show me the way." The major led the way to the telephone where Walton busied himself for some time, and when he had finished, he turned to his friend. " Now, I quit." "You won't see Dorrington first?" "No! Official conscience won't allow me." He laughed. " Officially 1 don't know he's here, and don't want to. Law isn't always justice, as you and I know, or there are some tall people in England who would take a rest in that big house on the moorland. I'll to make your friend's acquaintance on neutral soil. See you in France—eh ?" " Certain!"

" Good. Then T'm off—if I can find the car I left up that beastly lane. Solong, major."

The major offered his hand. " You'H have a front scat in heaven, Walton." " Think so ? . : . If this night's business gels out 1 shall be broke, and that will bo hell for me."

He laughed as he went down the steps, and as lie moved off in the moonlight ho whistled a cheerful air. Darling stood watching for a moment, until the whirr of the telephone bell called him urgently, and then he h'mself went off to make certain arrangements for the morrow. (To be continued daily.)