THE FOAKES MYSTERY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVII, Issue 20519, 21 March 1930, Page 22

THE FOAKES MYSTERY.

BY W. F. HARVEY.

CHAPTER XVI. , There was no use kicking against the 'door, but Kenyon continued to dp so even when he realised, that he was only giving vent;to his humiliation and rage. He seemed destined to play the part of dupe. ' Simeon had only to spread his nets, to arrange his decoys, and once that was ' done the rest was simple. There was no consolation in telling himself that he was 7 pitted against a master strategist when the master strategist had him safe under lock and key. Safe under lock and key! What irony there was in the phrase! There are two sides to every question, two sides to every door. There remained the fact that he was on the. inside and in > danger.

With an effort he concentrated on the present. The garage, now that dusk had fallen, could no longer be said to be lit by the one window high up in the wall opposite the door. There was light j enough, however, for Martin to note its emptiness. Nowhere could he discover even a suggestion of means for escape. The "window was impossible; even if he backed the car to the wall and stood on the seat the narrow sill was far beyond his reach. If he blew the horn in the hope" of attracting attention it would be only the attention of his captors, and he had not forgotten the handcuffs. There ; was enough petrol and oil about the car for him to set the place alight; he would, however, be suffocated in the attempt, and why should he do Simeon's work. for. him ?

With difficulty he reconciled himself to p.lay a waiting game, and a waiting game in the cold and dark. He got into the car, and pulling the rug round him, 'it his pipe.

And now he let his mind dwell on the happenings of the last few days. When had Simeon picked up the trail ? How had he discovered his presence in Ledf/jrd? Probably, he told himself, the house at Chandos Mount had been watched ; he might have Been seen walking with ''Sommerscales by one 6f -Simeon's agents, and Sommerscales might have been followed home. His wife, with her grudge against Martin, would account for . the rest. He remembered how she had been in and out of the room while her husband and he had been talking over the route he should fellow. She had said something about the police being on his tracks: the police or Simeon's agents —it was all the tame to her. just as now it was all the same to him.

He took out his torch and looked over the contents of his pockets. He had no fetters containing information that would be of value to his captors with the exception of the last note he had received from" Mary Quinton. That, very reluctantly, he burned. It was the first letter he had had from her; it looked imw n-s if it well might lie the-last. In one r ; espect; only his luck had held—he could no longer pride himself on possessing such a thing as foresight—Nicholas Foakes' letter to Hamptmann was out of his keep ing. It might even now be deciphered and his friends be putting to good purpose the secret that it contained.

He placed his electric torch, when he 4ad. finished going through his papers, under a loose board in the corner behind the empty petrol tins. There was a possibility of its being taken trpm him, and later ne might want it. ! ! Martin was beginning to wonder if he had better snatch what sleep he could when he heard ..footsteps on the gravel, and a key turned in the lock. He had half expected to, see Simeon when the door opened; instead, the burly figures of Ingleby and Voles stood on the thres- , hold. The latter was carrying a lantern. "-You are wanted in the house," he • said. " Here, Jack, hold the lantern ■whilef I give this precious innocent an arm. You had better not try to bolt. The gentleman behind you is an excellent shot, and he'll keep the light shining on your broad back." Kenyon saw that resistance' would he worse than futile. With Voles' arm firmly in his they crossed the drive and entered the house by a side door. Half way down a passage they stopped. !" "Hands up," said Voles, and with deft fingers he went through the contents of Martin's pockets. He took, without examining them, the half dozen letters, and then knocked at a door on the right. "Come in." The voice was Simeons; it was Simeon in evening dress who stood with his back to the smoking a cigar, ' Between him and Kenyon was a long table. A cold supper for one was laid at the end nearest to the door. " I cannot truthfully say that this is an unexpected pleasure," said Simeon, " but I am unfeignedly glad to see you, Mr. Kenvbn. Please be seated. Ah, those are 'the papers; nothing of any importance, I expect, but I will run through them later Just let me make matters clear at the outset, Mr. Kenyon Whm these two gentlemen leave, us they will /wait outside in the passage. The windows are shuttered; my revolver is within reach. In such circumstances it is usual for the hero to effect bis escape by taking the preliminary step of upsetting -the lamp and plunging the room in dark* npss. Unfortunately, you will observe that there are no lamps to upset, and consequentlv no darkness to plunge into. This house : .s lit by patrol, an admirable illuminant for isolated country mansions. I know you are hungry. Please begin. 1 shall dine later Ihe knives you will find are a little blunt — that is the worst of stainless cutlery—and 1 should not attempt to throw tl t.-m. N'ow, gentlemen. 1 think you can leave us."

Martin, conscious all Ihe time of Simeon's watching eyes, poured out a glass of wine and began to eat. "I am afraid you find the light a trifle dazzling," said his host " Surely you 'did not sit in the garage in the dark ?"

Martin explained that no lamps had been provided. 1 " But you had only to start the motor; it is fitted with electric light.," and the engine would have kept you warm I had been counting on this simple discovery, putting you in iiood hiitnom with £ yourself. lam |ust a little disappointed iri you, Kfliiyon At times you seem really bright, show indeed signs of a future Which, if our paths had not crossed, would have been full ot promise, then there are these unaccountable lapses, - such as your-failure to see Hie importance of enlisting the sympathy of the worthy -Mrs Fommerscales." Keiiyon said nothing Ff Simeon lilted to talk while he ate, well and good, but the conversation at least should be one-sided

, ' You will probably disbelieve me," went' on Simeon, "and vel! I really rlo regret fho wn<- in which oui lots have been - cast > 011 volunteered loyally to ■ help me "on were prepared to see the matter through in so whole-hearted a fashion tlml I have often had otiaJms in taking avdantape of you. I like you. Kenyon. and within limits—they extend beyond the garage—l wish you well, extraordinarily well. To one like myself,, who takes an intense artistic pleasure in what T might term the creative

A THRILLING ROMANCE OF LOVE, CRIME AND MYSTERY.

(COPYRIGHT.)

l;f only he could outwit Simeon!

side of villaiiy, your whole conduct of the situation after you recognised me JitChandos Mount made an irresistible appeal. The telegram" from your brother was a masterly invention, an altogether unexpected move that for a time completely altered the chances of the-game. But only for a time. " What have you brought me here for?" asked Martin. " That is rather an embarrassing question to answer. You know very little, but you, know too much. Shall we say that our story is becoming a little exciting for me, and that I am anxious to turn to the conclusion? I have still, however, to hear the penultimate chapter. What did you find in my house?" He rapped out- the last sentence sharply. The claws were showing beneath the velvet paw. Kenyon slowly refilled his glass. " Wait and see," he said at last. Simeon smiled. "I can afford to wait." he continued. " but I doubt whether you are in a position to do so. You know, I expect, that charming poem hv Sir Henrv Newbolt, ' He Fell among Thieves.' it's just a little hackneyed, and the setting perhaps is too theatrical. Yon. mv clear Kern-on. are not in the .Wion to make that Wan eeste-hnw do the lines tro ? 'He flune his ernnty revolver down the slope ' T remember now. " Slope' rhymes with ' hone. He flunsr his empty revolver down the B '°Pf' H» climbed alone to the eastward edge of the trees: ... , All nisrht long in a dream untroubled of hope . , . , Ho brooded, clpsping his knees.

The man was to die at dawn, you will 'recollect. ." The stanzas describing _his .lost youth are admirably done.-. The garage wilt, I am afraid, be a. sordid background for your last vigil. Dawn on the Laspur Hills' is infinitely preferable. A garage, and a second-hand Ford! I should have given more attention to the setting. _ You are still determined to say nothing ? In that case we will meet again in the morning. You must not take Newbolt's phrase about dying at dawn too literally. We must allow a certain margin. Shall we say ten o'clock 7 I find as I grow older that I am more and more dependent on a good night's sleep."

■■■■■.': CHAPTER XVII. • Kenyon was back again on the wrong side of the garage door. The place had been visited in his absence, probably searched. Anyhow they had left him an additional blanket. He found his torch. There, was no reason, he told himself, why .be should not adopt Simeon's suggestion of obtaining light and heat at the same time by starting the engine of the car; but he discovered, after several unsuccessful attempts, that the petrol tank had been emptied. Martin had no illusions about the nature of Simeons' threat. It was no mere piece of bluff, and unless he had escaped by ten o'clock in the morning, or had been able to concoct a lie that rang true, unless. ... But he refused to look so far ahead.

The first step was to make a careful suryey of his prison, of ceiling, walls, and floor. His second search was'not unproductive. To begin with he noticed that the garage was provided with an inspection pit carefully boarded over. Then driven into one of the walls he found two st<but iron nails. Carefully he tested them to see if they would bear his weight. One held; the other came out easily, dislodging with it a mass of plaster. Kenyon began to hope. With the boards from the inspection, pit, two empty petrol tins, and the car pushed up against the wall, he surely , might be able to rig up some sort of a shaky platform beneath the window. And then with the two nails driveti firmly in, to get a final purchase for his feet, smash the glass and scramble through, risking the drop on the other side.

It was. worth trying, but when ? The hour was nine, the people in the house were stirring, and it was quite possible that his guards would pay him a visit to see that all was right before they left him for the night. No, he would wait for three hours. After midnight he' cbuld count with luck on not being disturbed. In the meantime he would snatch what sleep he could. Wrapping himself in the rugs he curled up in the back of the car. The night was still. A faint glimmer of moonlight shone through the window. From somewhere not far away came the running music of a stream. In spite of the cold Kenyon managed to sleep.

When ■he . awoke it was after twelve. There was now sufficient light for him to dispense with his lamp. He soon found that his task was more difficult even than he had supposed, and after half-an-hour it appeared hopeless. The window was too high up in the wall; three feet lower and he might just have reached it. He might have reached it if he had had two more nails. He had driven in the two he had taken out of the other wall with a spanner from the car, and they seemed sufficiently firm to bear his weight. Disconsolately he paced the room. He pictured Simeon's quiet smile of amusement if he were to see him.

" Very ingenious," he could hear him say, " very ingenious, Mr. Kenyon. So near and yet so far! But you will have been glad at least of the exercise to keep you warm." ■ "So near, and yet so far!" Suddenly, an idea struck him. He took the boards he had used for his improvised platform on the back of the car and put them so that they recovered the inspection pit. In their place he-piled the cushions and rugs. If, still looked as if a way of escape by means of the window might be possible. If the window were broken, and there were no sign of Martin, anyone would naturally think that he had found a way out. And what was more, it could he done, this making empty of the room. There was the inspection pit. ft was big enough to contain him, and it should not be impossible to replace the boards as he lay on his back. There was a risk, a big risk. His safety would dppend on whether the first person to enter the garage would start to reason from .the broken window. Simc he felt sure would jump to no rash conclusions. Ingleby looked as if he had all his wits about him. Voles was a man of action, and a man ol action who could play a part. That he had the imagination of the other two 'Martin doubted, if Voles were the first to give the alarm, the odds were that it would be because he had jumped to the wrong conclusion. Granted that he could count on as much as this, his safety would still depend on good luck rather than on foresight. The door would be opened, he told himself, and then in their surprise at seeing the garage empty, they would leave it open wlr'.c thev hurried back to give the alarm, .'.iid in I ha; interval he would have time to run for it.

Hut would they leave the door open ? Here again everything depended on who made the discovery. Simeon would lock it (never again would he under-estmiate his cunning), but Ingleby and Voles—yes, Ingleby and Voles were not supermen. They surely might be counted on to act, not as fools, but as ordinar' people taken by' surprise. There remained to decide the hom at which the attempt should be made It 'was nearly one It he broke the uin dow now could he count on the noise being beard' If he failed to arouse his guards it would mean perhaps seven hours in that pit, Ivinu cramped on his back in the freezing cold. On the other hand, if he waited until it was light, and the sun would rise somewhere between seven and eight, his rhances of eluding lis pursuers would he less. At six it would be dark, and at six light sleepers would be stirring. They might easily hear the noise ot the crashing window, and then Six should be the zero hour. (To be' continued daily.)