THE CRIME AND THE CASKET.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVI, Issue 20375, 2 October 1929, Page 20

THE CRIME AND THE CASKET.

BY JOHN IRONSIDE,

SYNOPSIS. .fewo Grahem is Mrs. Vesey's campnnion, nml lliu two women are on tho return voyage from huliu. Mrs. Vesey, a frivolous, smart-society type of woman, is recovering from a serious illness and is an exacting employer to her young and pretty companion. They nro ivt present in an hotel in Paris, and Mrs. Vesey has noted a tall, distinguished-looking man whom she had seen on hoard the Messina, but ha repels the advance sho tries to mako. Crossing from Calais to Dover, Mrs. Vesey sleeps her time away in the ladies' nal(»m. Jessie noes cu deck. Th<> sun disappears behind i;lrinda and a sharp Bquall sweeps np. Jessie 'clinging to the rail, presently remembers >Mvs. Vesey and starts off toward the gangway. She slips and is saved from falling by a strong arm. Glancing up, sho sees that it is the distinguished-looking man who had attracted Mrs. Vesey. Gerald .Hunter and Jessie Graham converse, and lie learns somewhat of her life-story, but does 'not tell her his name. Jessie's engagement with Mrs. Vesey terminates at tho journey's end and on tho third morning after her return to England sho rings up Miss IVlucdonald, of Harridge's Employment Agency. Margaret Macdomild tells her that there is a promising post waiting for her. It,is at Medenham Manor, about thirty miles from London. Mr. Hunter is seeking ft companion for his crippled wife. Mrs. 11miter's lower limbs are paralysed and sho is confined to her couch. In the afternoon Jessie «oes down to Medenham. where a chauffeur meets her at the station. Tho nir.noi is a picturesque Georgian building. Jfose, the young crippled wife, who is on •a long wheeled couch, takes to her immediately. She frankly owns to a passionate nature and weeps over her great misfortune. A Mis? Gregory arrives, and then Gerald Hunter enters. As Hose introduces .her husband, Jessie exclaims, as sho taken liis ejtended hand: "You! 1 " Laura Gregory tries to imbue her friend. Rose Hunter, with a distrust of her new compr niou, Jessie Graham, w'no, she insists, is tiding to attract Rose's husband. This statement Hose emphatically denies. Sho is quite sure that Jessie Graham is perfectly innocent and above-board in her dealings with her husband and herself. Laura Gregory 'eparts. Jessio and her younger brother and sister, Bobby ami Better, had been playing tennis with Mr. Hunter. while Laura talked to Rose. At tli9 finish of the game Jessie runs to Rose, and the iwo chat like happy sisters. Jessio had introduced " picnic dlnnara" to render the invalid's evening meal less lonely. Bobby and Hetty come in after this is over. Then Jessio takes her little sister to bed. while Bobby plays Halma with Mrs. Hunter. Afterwards Mr. Hunter while Jessie accompanied him on the piano. During ilie singing of that song Rose becomes nwnre —or thinly she does—of" her husband's love for Jessie Graham, but her companion does not. love her husband—yet. What will tho end be? CHATTER V. SCANDAL. • " Mrs. Merritt on the 'phone, Miss La;ira Holding tho line." Laura Gregory, engaged in tho congenial task of inspecting her beloved littlo car, looked up impatiently. " Bother her! What docs she want?" " Sho wouldn't say, miss. Except that it was very important, and sho must speak to you." "All right. Tell her I'll be there in n minute." She slipped off her greasy, workmanlike' overall, wiped her hands, and followed tho servant back to the house, ,frowning. She hated interruption when she wiis either at work or play. Probably Madge Merritt had rung up to say her bridge party, arranged for that evening, was " off.""but if that was so she might just as well have given the message to Mrs. Hart. " Hullo, old thing! Laura speakin . What's up?" she asked brusquely. "Not very much, only I'm in a hole that you can help me out of. Laura dear, and I feel sure you will," Mrs. Merritt answered. " Fact is, Ive an old friend, Yi Vesey, from India, coming to-day for the week-end, and something s gohe wrong with the car, so that we can't send in lo Medenham to meet her,

• so— , " You want me to meet her, and run her over? Righto! What time?" Lau.-a's voice was more cordial. blie was clad the bridge party was not off as she had anticipated, and was always ready to do a good turn of this sort. "Oil, yoit angel i I knew you wou.d . Of course, 1 could have phoned foi a taxi f 10111 the town, but you know how thev rush, one. and she's as hard up as Ave" aru. She's coming by the 6.20, so you'll be over in good time for dinner. Don't supposo she'll have a lot of lug- " That's all right. I can manage anything less than a big trunk. What's sho like 1" " , i ~ " Haven't seen her for years, but don t suppose she's much altered. Rather tall, slight, dark and frightfully smart. lou 11 soon spot her" , (l . "Righto!" said Laura again. in collect ner. Au 'voir, old thing!" She was waiting on the platform when the 6.20 train came in; immediately identilied Mrs. Yesey, a conspicuously elegant figure among the crowd of city folk rcf uriiinj; from business, and introduced herself, in' her customary off hand manner. Violet Yesey look'ed at her critically, flee id oil that she was "county," and tlmroff.ro responded most graciously. " How awf'lly kind of you, Miss Gregoiy. I've heard of you from Madge. Shc°s£.ys you're the crack bridge player down.here, and I was so looking forward 'to meeting you. I adore bridge. One of the few things that make lifo worth living! Yes—dressing case and suit case—that's all"—this to tho porter. 11 Br in* 'cm down to the car," Laura commanded, and led the way to a footpath and swing gate. " Lots of time. Wo shall h ave to wait till the. train goes on, and tl o big gates open. There's a level crossing here, you know.' The train moved on as they reached the road, where, beside her car, several vehicles were waiting to proceed, among (hem J'orrv's own small, swift, two-seater, in which ho was wont to drive himself to town on tho days when he went up. Evidently lie hadn't gone to-day, and beside him was Jessie Graham, looking very turn and pretty. ■ Laurn nodded frigidly to the girl sho 'so disliked and distrusted, smiled and waved her hand to Jerry, who did not respond.; in fact, did not see her. He was gazing at tho slowly-opening gates, and a moment later started tho cat and glided forward. Laura turned to her own car. " % shall have (o get in first, for my lit 110 ',b.us has only one door. Your traps • will go in the dicky." Sho turned to help her companion in, and beheld her standing motionless, opennioiithed, staring incredulously at Jerry's vanishing car. " Who was that? The man in tho blue car?" Mrs. Yesey demanded. " Jerry Hunter My nearest neighbour and old., friend. Why? D'you know him ?" Mrs. Yesey did not answer. She was fctill staring. "And the girl with him?" she continued. ".Surely, it was Je.viic Graham. Wt'H! oh, I'm" sorry, Miss Gregory," sin- tinned apologetically ard got info t!ir car, " Hut I don't think I was ever more astonished in my life " Laura made no comment at. the moment, (.lit. waited litl the porter had been dismissed with a lip. Then she slatted tho engine, took the car along smoothly and at no great pace, and nave a keen side glance at her companion's porplcxod face. Ye?., that was Miss Graham. She's Mrs/ II inter's companion," she said, with assumed carelessness. " D'you know her, Mrs. Yosoy ?" " Ivnaw her! I should think I do Why, she came home from India, with mo »:s tnv maid-attendant, the sly little Minx— 1 ' "'.On the Messina? Oh, then, you're ' the exacting lady' she was with ? What a queer little world we live in, to bo sure,"'laughed Laura. 'Mvvieting lady? She dared to call r.e that? What insolence!" cried Mrs. .Yesey.

A FASCINATING STORY OF LOVE AND MYSTERY.

Laura did not think it necessary to explain that tho expression had been used by Rose, and not by Jessie, with whom sho had never exchanged an unnecessary word.

" So you all came homo together on tho Messina?" sho remarked. "How did you hit it off with Jerry? Dear thing, isn't he?" " I never spoke l>o him. l)wln it even know his name!" said Mrs. Vesey, then checked herself abruptly. ■ N'o need lo let this cool, and, sho imagined, rather sarcastic young woman guess that " the woman hater " had managed to evade her many advances. "A.on see. I was such a wretched invalid. I had to spend most of Ihe limo in my cabin. That's why I had to go in fov the 'stravagance of an attendant—tho Graham girl. ( Hut I noticed him, of coiirsu. He s stiaordinarily distinguished-looking, isn't he? But, d'you know, I felt sure there was something between him and Jessio Graham. though tho little cat swore shed never spoken to him. I bowled her out in the lie at the last moment; but oven then she had the impudence to stick to it !" . Laura's blue eyes narrowed as, ellicient motorist that she was, she kept them fixed on tho road ahead.

" I say, that's awf'lly inlerestin', and I'd like to hear all about it after we get in. I hate talkin' when I'm drivin . But this touches me rather closely, in a way. You see. tho Hunters are my most intimate friends. I'm awf'lly fond of jerry—wo were boy and girl together, and'have always been great pals, and I care more for Rose Hunter than for any livin' woman. She's a bopeUss cripple, vou know. Biffed in the hunting field, soon after they were married. Rotten luck for 'em both, poor dears. And lately I've been—"

She swerved cleverly, just, avoiding a hen that blundered, squawking, across the road. .... n "Near thing, that. I hale hens, silly idiots. I haven't killed one yet, or anything else, but I shall one of these days, I expect," she said, with a laugh. " You drive splendidly." said iolet Vesoy. " I l° vo motoring, though I shall" never be ablo to do anything with " "liut about that girl. Of course, I'll tell you all I know. It's not much. reallv —" , ~ , " Righto. At dinner, there won the time till then. It will be early to-night, for the bridge crowd will be turntn up soon. -Madge and Sam will be frightfully keen to hear, for they're tho talk of tho neighbourhood already, she and Jerrv, I mean." " Here we are. Pretty little place, isn't it ?" . She turned in at a white Rate and pulled up in front of a picturesque modern liouse of the glorified country cottage type. , , . " Madge Merritt, a plump, smart, darkeyed little woman, appeared in the open doorway to greet them. As Laura had foreseen, there was no opportunity to resume tho subject of the Hunters and Jessie Graham till dinner time. Then it proved the sole topic. Sam Merritt, a pink-faced, bald-headed, lather jollv-looking city man, left most of the talking to the three women, chuckling at intervals as be listened. lie and his" wife were comparatively newcomers to the neighbourhood, only knew Jerry Hunter very slightly, had never even seen Rose, and had only had casual glimpses of Jessie. But these circumstances increased rather than diminished their avid interest and curiosity.

" When did you say she went to the manor?" Mrs. Vesay asked. " Monday after Jerry cot back. 1 happened to look in just after she tinned up," said Laura. " I'm in and out everyday, you know, and I was—well knocked all of a heap for a minute, as they hadn't said a single word about her. "There vou are! Fixed it all up on board!" cried Violet Vcsey vindictively, and Sam emitted one of his knowing chuckles. , " Rose says they didn't!" protested Laura. . , , " Rubbish! It's incredible that she should have come by chance —r.nd so soon. Who ever heard of such a coincidence?" " Rose said it wasn't a coincidence. She and Jerry planned it all, as he d found Miss Graham's name, and happened to know tho agency where sho told him she was goin', to get another job," Laura repeated, dogmatically. " And anyhow, on I hat point I jolly well think we ought to give 'em—Jerry and the girl, I mean—the benefit of tho doubt." ■Sam Merritt nodded.

" Right you are, Laura. Spoken like a sportswoman!" " I don't liko tho girl, as I said. But I do like to bo fair," Laura, asserted, taking a cigarette. Matches, 'Sam?" " Well, I think it's awfully good of yqu to stick up for her, under tho circs., old thing," said Madge. " All the same, I'm perfectly certain Vi's right. I'm simply disgusted with the pair of them. I wonder if that poor Mrs. Hunter, really does believe it's all above-board, or if sho .suspects—"

" Oh, she's regularly infatuated with the girl," said Laura, with an unwonted linn of emotion in her level voice. " Though—again, to bo- quito fair —she seems devoted to Rose, who lias bucked up wonderfully since she came. Whether sho gets as much devotion after Jerry's gone remains to be. seen!" " When 'is he off ?" asked Madge. " Quito soon. • Day after to-morrow, I think."

" He ought to have taken the little piece along as his secretary—what?" Sam suggested, with a significant snigger. " Let me catch you do any such thine, my lad. You'd hear of it!" laughed his wife, rising as the sound of a car heralded the arrival of more guests. For tho rest of the evening briflgo reigned, though in the intervals tho gossip buzzed at every table, and lost nothing in transit. Laura Gregory contributed little to it., nnd another who listened coldly, and without comlnent., was Miss Watson, the doctor's • sister, an elderly, reserved Scotswoman, who played remarkably good bridge—hence her inclusion in that company, with whom, apart from the game, she had little in common. Her brother, a widower, for whom sho kept house, had brought her to the party, and Laura gave her a lift back. Somewhat to her surprise, Miss Watson referred to tho matter as they drove homeward in bright moonlight. " T was very indignant at the unkii|d allusions to Mr Hunter and that nice lassie, Jessie Graham," she remarked, in her deliberate voice, with its slight but unmistakable Scottish accent. T would have protested, but it. is my rule never to take part in any gossip. It is very unwise for a doctor's relatives to do so. But I am certain they are nil mistaken, and that their suspicions of some vulgar intrigue between Mr Hunter and the lassie aro quito unfounded. She is a Scotswoman and a lady. My brother has the very highest opinion of her." Laura nodded.

" I know. And she's really awf'lly good to Rose, and that's all I care about it. I told 'em so. But it's no tiso tryin' to stop clackin' tongues. Let 'em clack till they're tired if it amuses 'em, though Hose really does make rather a ridiculous fuss of the girl. And I was voxed when sho had those noisy youngsters down—tho brother nnd sister. Quito uncalled for, and too much for her." " Oh, nn," Miss Watson protested. " Donald says they cheered Mrs, Hunter up so much that, he was sorry when they had to return to school. In a tragic case like that, everything depends on keeping the patient amused. That is whv Jessie Graham is so valuable. Though I'm thinking the lassie will have a, very difficult timo when Mr. Hunter goes abroad again." Not worse than nurse and I—everyone about her. in fact—had last time !" Laura declared. "My hat. how tryin' sho was! 111, too. Fretted herself Into a regular fever."

" 1 es. My brother was verv perplexed and distressed over that. He could not

(COPYRIGHT.)

understand," the eider woman began, then stopped, as if fearing she had been guilty of some indiscretion. Laura gave her another swift, sidelong glanco. " Perplexed! Why?" she asked sharply, as sho pulled up outsido the doctor's gale. l\liss Watson ignored tlio question, and Laura did not, repeat it. She drove slowly and thoughtfully the short distance to her own cottage, garaged the car, let*herself in with her latchkey, and switched on the lights in hall and drawing room. The house was silent, the servants in bed and asleep. Sho crossed to the French window, drew back tho curtains, and looked out. The room faced toward 'lie manor, which stood on rather higher ground, a few hundred yards distant, across tho gardens, and appearing even nearer on this brilliant night. One of tho windows on the ground floor was open, and a shaded light shone within. The library, where evidently Jerry was still at work. For a minute or more she stood, staring at. tho light, frowning meditatively. Then sho turned to tho table, where a telephono stood, laid her hand on the instrument, hesitated, returned to the window, opened 'it noiselessly, and went out, pushing it lo behind her. A few minutes later Jerry Hunter, in tho act of putting his papers together for the night, heard the sound of light wary footsteps on the terrace, glanced round, and rose hastily, with a subdued exclamation of surprise, as Laura's head and shoulders appeared above tho window sill. CHAPTER VI. AT MIDNIGHT. Sho raised liar hand with a swift gesture of caution, and s.iid softly. " It's I—Laura. Don't make a row, to disturb Rose, or anyone else." "But, what on earth's up?" he demanded. " I can't tell vou here," sho replied, under her breath. " But I must speak to you to-night. Jerry—lt's very urgent. Come out—by the side door—l'll wait for you in the sunk garden. Don't be long." Sho moved on, out of sight, and for i brief space he stood, cogitating uneasily. Ho was well used to Laura's unconventional ways, but never before, in all tho years he had known her, had she turned up like this, in secret, as it seemed, and at such an hour.

Well, it was no use keeping her waiting out there. He had better see what she wanted.

He went out into the hall, paused again and listened. Not a sound in the great house, but tho sonorous ticking of a tall clock. Ho turned down a corridor on the left to tho side door, his footsteps noiseless oil the thick carpet, cautiously elre.v tho bolts, stepped out into tho glory of the night, and crossed the lawn fo tlis sunk garden, a lovely nook, screened by a thick yew hedge, with stone stops leading down to a paved fountain in the centre.

Laura was by the fountain, watching for him, a tall, slender, ghostly looking figure in the moonlight, for she wore a thin, light-coloured motor-coat, over her laco bridge gown, and a soft while felt hat. She mado no movement to meet him. but as he approached, turned and went along the paved walk and up to the opposite steps to a white seat, tna.t stood in a niche of the dark hedge. There sho sat down, her hands clasped on her knees.

He followed perforce, his perplexity increasing, but even when he stood before her, she did not speak. Ho could see that she was agitated, an unheard-of thing, for Laura Gregory, the most self-possessed person he had ever known.

"My dear Laura, what is all this about?" ho asked, \<'ith a touch of impatience, instinctively speaking softly, though none could have overheard, even if thero had been anyone near, and they seemed to have this wonderful night to themselves.

" I—don't know how to begin," she said, in a jerky under-tone. " Don't stand there like a statue, Jerry! Sit down, do, and I'll try to—get it out. But it's a bit—difficult." He obeyed, awkwardly. " Well!" he asked, as she remained silent.

" When do you start for—Buenos Aires, is it?; she asked abruptly. " Day after to-morrow. No, to-mor-row—for it's past midnight now," lie said, deeming it wise to emphasise tho hour.

" I thought so." That is why I came to you like this. I felt sure I should have no opportunity of seeing you alono before you went," she rejoined, with a sort of nervous breathlessness, that increased his perlexity and apprehension. " Jerry, is it absolutely necessary for you' to go?" He hesitated, looking scarchingly at her, hut her face was partly averted from him, and revealed nothing. " As necessary as anything can be that isn't actually a matter of lifo and death," he said slovdv at last. " It's a very important business deal, that I don't care to entrust to anyone else. In fact there is no one at the moment I could entrust ii; to."

"Life and death!" she repeated. " That's just what it is—or may be. Don't go, Jerry. Not yet, anyhow. Not to-morrow." "What in tho world do you mean?" "That you ought not to leavo Rosa I If you do—if you leavo her again now you'll regret it for the rest of your life!" she said vehemently, still without looking at him. Rut ho saw the nervous movement of her clasped fingers and wondered the moro. "My dear Laura you are very mysterious to-night. And really the question of my going is ono that concerns no ono but Rose and myself," ho expostulated. " There! Now I've put your back up!" she exclaimed. " I'm sorry, Jerry. And you think. I'm butt in' in quite unwarrantably, I can tell that. But, after all. we've been; pals for so long, and I—well, you know I'm not a gushin* sort —but I do care for Rose, moro than for any other livin* creature, except " She broke off, biting her lips, and her last word passed unnoticed by him. Ho was touched by her exhibition of emotion, unprecedented in his knowledge of her.

" I know yon do. Laura," lio said, more cordially than ho liad yot spoken. " It's always been the greatest comfort to mo to know she had such a good pnl so rmar at hand, poor girl. And now that sho hns Miss Graham as %vcll " She turned and faced him then.

"That's just it!" she cried with passionate emphasis. " You must not leave her alone with that girl—a scheming little adventuress if over thcro was one "

"Laura!" he exclaimed indignantly, and started to his feet. Sho sprang up, too, and clutched his arm. "Hush! Don't, speak so loud, they'll hear you in the house, if there's anyone awake. And listen to mc, Jerry. I'm goin' to get it out now—though God knows it's the hardest thing I've over had to do! Are yon so dense that you can't realise what everyone's sayin' about you and that girl? I'm always denyin' it, whoa it comes to my cars—for Roso's sake, and—well, for yours, too " "Denying what?" he asked, sternly. " I care nothing—less than nothing—for what any outsiders whatever may say or f onjecf uro concerning me or my household. But you are different. You luivo been our most intimate friend, our only one in this place, and as you have chosen to take this extraordinary action, I have the right to know the meaning of your conduct —arid your innuendo." (Tp, bo continued daily.)