THE CRIME AND THE CASKET.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVI, Issue 20391, 21 October 1929, Page 18

THE CRIME AND THE CASKET.

BY JOHN IRONSIDE.

CHAPTER XXlV.—(Continued.) " Don't you lump to conclusions, my non," said Freeman. " I'm pretty suro the casket wasn't stolen from her, but from the bedroom, and at the last moment. She camo and went through th» hall that day—this window wasn't open. Jordan saw her, and wanted to help hor on with her mack, which sho had loose, thrown over her shoulder. Come op, now." He closed the window and took them to tho inner room.

" Looks pretty different from what it did when I first saw it, with tho poor lady lying dead hero, in sta.te, so to speak. It's never been used s ; nce, and 1 bet it won't bo at present. Well, tho bed stood there, and—this'll do, it may bo tho same—"

Ho moved a small chippendalo table with its contents, a pair of Dresden china figures, to a certain position. " The table stood there, wijb tho casket on it, at night times, or whenever Mrs. Hunter staved in bed." They had watched his movements in Bilence. There was something almost hypnotic about them. " Look at the bed 1 And at the woman dying in it!" bo exclaimed suddenly, dramatically. They started, stared in the direction indicated by his imperative .forefinger, saw nothing but a big chippendale cabinet, and a couple of carved chairs, looked round open-mouthed, and —Mr. Freeman had vanished.

He reappeared next moment through tho half-open door, with one of the china figures under his arm. " That stands for the casket," he said quietly, as ho replaced it on the table. " You never saw me tako it ? You never saw mo go? Neither did thfe nurses or Miss Graham, intent on that poor, dying woman, when the other simply took it and walked off with it. For that's how it was done!"

"My word!" ejaculated Field. "But what did she do with.it! That's tthere I've stuck. Now, we've got the warrant we can move at last. They wouldn't give it me till now—pig-headed fools. Well, como on, boys." He led tho way briskly, passing Jordan—lingering uneasily in tho hall —with

a cheery: " Thanks, we're through for the present. Seo you later," and out at the ha!l door. He took a bee-line across to the gate that gave access to Laura Gregory's garden, walking as if lie held something .under his arm—ho was a natural actor—liis keen eyes roving reflectively. • " She didn't bury it. I went over

every inch of the ground more than once right then, for I was pretty sure from the . first, though I couldn't get the real hang of it till I'd pieced things together." " What about that pond ?" asked Field. " I thought of that first of all, but it •was uo go. Regularly coated with weed, as it is now, that hadn't been disturbed for weeks—till I threw a stone in myself to see. It fell there, where it's a lighter green. You can see the mark after all this time. But now we can try the house. You'ro in charge, Field." Mrs. Hart, tyiurn Gregory's cook-house-keeper, experienced the " worst turn she had ever had in her life" when she opened the door, to bo confronted by three men bearing a police warrant to search the house. Not daring to resist such authority, she followed them' froip room to room, trembling. weeping, feebly protesting; declared , truthfully when interrogated, as she was before they left, that she had never set ,eyas on the ivory box, or anything liko it. '

By the time they had completed their fruitless search'it was nearly one o'clock. ■ As they descended the stairs in silence 'Freeman, baffled again, looked unwontedly ■ grim, and Mis. Hart vociferating hysterically behind them, the front door hell rang with a shrill, startling summons. Harris, who was nearest, opened the door to a little crowd, Mrs. Linnell, in a piteous state of distress, with a couple of men and two or three girls—gardeners and maid-servants from the manor. "Is Mrs. Hart there?" cried the poor mother. " Oh, Mrs. Hart, Jacky's lost jWe can't find him anywhere—and—and Jiin here thinks he—may have fallen into your pond, and that we ought to drag it Oh, whatever shall I do?" ' An6ther sound A car, rapidly driven, turning in at the gate. It whirled round the semi-circular drive and pulled up abruptly, just escaping Jim, the gardener, who jumped for his life. Laura sprang out, and glared furiously ' at the queer assemblage. She was deathly ' pale, and looked distraught, desperate, like a wild creature at bay. - " What's all this about ?" she dn- / manded. Mrs. Linnell clutched at her arm, " Miss Gregory—my Jacky—" Laura shook her off, thrust her aside. 6he had caught sight of Freeman. ' " You! What are you doing in my house ?" . . i " We have just beer, searching it, with a police warrant, Miss Gregory. And now we are going to drag your pond," be replied promptly and cheerfully. Her lip's parted, and she recoiled a Btop, staring at him incredulously. If a glanco could kill, Mr. Freeman's span of life would have terminated, there and then. " Mv pond ? I won't have it dragged. I won't liavo you or anyone else trcnpassing on my grounds!' " Sorry. You've no power to stop us,' he rejoined, quite politely. " (,'omc on. my lads.'" She stood irresolutely, watching the •whole group till they disappeared round the corner of the house, then pushed past Mrs. Hart, ignoring the old woman's hysterical torrent of words, ran upstairs to her bedroom and locked herself in. The room showed no signs of disorder, tho searchers had replaced everything as they found it. She crossed to tho window, where she had stood exultant last night, fell into a chair by it, and sat, looking out, her breath eoming in quick, sobbing gasps. Sho saw tho excited crowd gather round tho pool, saw Freeman put Ins hand on tho sobbing woman's shoulder, and point, evidently reassuring her, while the others prepared the ropes and hooks they had brought from somewhero. What had tho woman said? That her brat was lost, had fallen into tho pond ? She wished it had! That cruel red glint shone in her blue eyes; sho moistened and bit hor dry Lips. Mat sho could see them hook up the brat s lifeless littlo body and lay it at his mother's feet, before they found that which < they were really seeking, "which that littlo spy Freeman had always suspected, and now knew was thero sinco she had given herself away, just now, in that unguarded moment. , Again and yet again they cast the drags, for hours as it seemed to tho ~, watcher at tho window. Every tinio they hauled in she held her breath, but hooks brought up nothing but weeds, a fow sticks, somo old tin cans. Mrs. Linnell went away with tho maids /■■■ 10 resume her search elsewhere. But the men remained. They were dragging

A FASCINATING STORY OF LOVE AND MYSTERY.

(COPYRIGHT.)

round and round now, close to tho banks, tlio hooks constantly catching fast in roots, and having to bo released by poking with'poles. Slow work, disappointing—to tho workers, splashed and muddy from head to foot. "No'use, sir, it's not there. It can't be," Field said at last. " It is there," Freeman returned, his usual sang froid failing for once. ' Didn't vou sec. tier face ? Gad! If she'd had that pretty little automatic wo saw in her dressing-table drawer —wonder why she keeps it there ?—it would have all u.p. with me! Once more, lads, anyhow. Right round . . . I could kick myself for never dragging it before," ho added in an undertone, tor tho umpteenth time that afternoon. And at tho last it was by a sheer fluko that they won. Young Harris, clambering perilously round the far edge, slipped, clutched unavailingly at the rhododendron bush and fell head" over heels into tho muddy water, disappearing from sight. By tno time tho others got near ho had scrambled up, gasping and spluttering, bis head and shoulders only visible in that deep end, plastered with weed and mud. " 'Arf a mo'!" ho panted, dashing tho tilth from his eves. " I felt something. Wait!"

Clinging with both hands to the margin ho moved his feet, slowly and painfully, in the mud of tho bottom, then loosed his hold, plunged down under tho surface again, and in a couplo of seconds reemerged and held up—tho mud-coated casket.

Freeman clutched it, hugged it to h:m. "God, we've got it! Fetch him out, boys and follow me—quick." He sprinted off across tho park, with his treasure. Laura sat very still, her eyes watching the little running figure, and tho others that soon followed, strung out. like fox and hounds.

Then she stretched out a hand, opened tho dressing-table drawer, and took out something. A littlo nickel-plated automatic pistol. Freeman made straight for the big garage. Mr. Hunter's small car was bound to be there. In half an hour, bar accidents, ha would be in tho Shiro Hull at High Chilcombe. Tho doors were closed but not locked. There was tho car. Enough potrol ? Ho hurried to it. Curled up on tho front seat was a small figuro which stirred at his shout of surprise. .Tacky Linnell sat up and rubbed his eves. ""Hallo, Mr. Fwreeman. I pwetenuod to como for a wide—and somebody shut tho door, and I've been so fwighteued." "Good lord, sonnie! So that's where you were ? Your Ma's been having forty fits about you. There, sit still, I'll drop you as I go." Another moment, and he ran the car out. paused to pick tip Field, to pass Jacky to tho gardener, and bid Harris get a bath and borrow a change indoors. Then away liko tho wind for High Chilcombe.

Less than an hour after Laura Gregory left the witness-box at the Shire Hall, Ctimmings-Browne ended his speech for tho defence. He sat down amid a burst of applause, sudden and deafening as the rattle of musketry, not to be suppressed for a minute or so, despite tho strident, commnnns of the ushers, and the judge s stern voice threatening to have the court cleared if the demonstration was continued. Tho great pleader had surpassed himself. Everyone who heard him acknowledged that. He never relied on mere forensic eloquence; simple, straightforward sincerity of diction and manner were acknowledged as his " strong suitand today, at least,, tho sincerity was not assumed. Ho was fighting for his client s life, not merely to score one more professional triumph, but with tho enthusiasm generated by his absolute faith in her innocence. Ho made no attempt to minimize what really con*! "luted the only evidence against her. I he facilities that undoubtedly had been hers to administer the poison, had she been that vilest, and most contemptible of all human creatures, the secret murderess who perpetrates her deadly deed under tho mask of friendship. But ho emphasised the great fact that there was not one shred of evidence that Jessie Hunter had ever so much as attempted to procure the poison, or had ever been in possesion of it. That sinister little packet, so cunningly stowed away behind a drawer in the room she had occupied, was no such evidence. Far from it. It had been stowed away in surh a manner that, even the most, superficial search would disclose it. And by whom .' Bv the actual criminal, there could be little doubt of that. But that criminal was not Jessie Hunter.

Tho question oT motive? That, on the face of it, appeared so strong, so obvious. He appealed solemnly to the jury to dismiss from their minds any prejudice created by a superficial view, and to consider as honest, human, clean-minded men and women, the domestic relations of these three persons, tho extraordinary, probably unprecedented, utterly poignant situation. His description of that situation was moving to tears. Thero were few dry eyes in tho Court—and Madge Merritt sobbed so vehemently that sho was in danger of being summarily expelled—when he spoke, with real emotion, of the chivalrous husband devoted to his invalid wife, but living in such appalling loneliness. deprived of everything mast precious to the man to whom marriago and parenthood are the great, the natural, the sacred things of life; of the hapless, suffering lady herself, whose last, most fervent hope and wish was that the two whom sho loved, her husband the the girl-companion who had come into her sad life like an angel of consolation, would come together after her death, wed and be happy. (To bo continued daily.)