THE GOLD KIMONO.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVIII, Issue 20794, 10 February 1931, Page 18

THE GOLD KIMONO.

CHAPTER XVl.—(Continued). O'Farrel did not reply, but lie acted very promptly. Closing his fist, lie hit the unfortunate Grant squarely between the eyes. The man in plus fours went down like a log, and O'Farrel, whistling cheerfully to himself, went inside the Farm. He returned after a moment, carrying a piece of rope with which ho trussed up the unfortunate Grant. In the far end of the courtyard, on the moorland side, stood a dilapidated barn, and into this O'Farrel dragged the unconscious Secret Service man, whom he placed on a pile of old sacks which stood in the corner. Then, with his cap over one eyo, and whistling more cheerfully than ever, O'Farrel walked off in the direction of the Turkish Cafe. In this disposing of Grant, O'Farrol had carried out his usual routine of doing things first and considering them afterward. He was suspicious of Grant, and yet be had no means at the moment of finding out exactly where Grant fitted into the jig-saw of events at Sepach Farm. He believed, however, that within the next few hours he would put his finger on some point from which he could start a real investigation, and he considered that this investigation would be easier with the man in plus fours out of the way. Too many people were curious about the murders at the farm, O'Farrel thought and he believed in the elimination of the unimportant. That Grant might be on the side of the forces of law and order had occurred to the young Irishman; yet he believed the chances that he was in leaguo with the murderer or murderers were just as great. He was taking no chances and be felt relieved that—at any rate for the moment —there would be no further interference from the individual who now lay, cursing quietly to himself, in the barn. CHAPTER XVII. It was the logical Kenkins who discovered a means of escape from the toolshed in Deep End field. Peabody had contented himself with sitting down and cursing and then glumly considering the hopelessness of the situation, but Kenkins, having managed to wriggle his feet out of the cords which had bound his ankles, wandered about the tool-shed in an endeavour to find some means to get his hands, which were tied behind his back, free.

During the time that Irietoff had been speaking Kenkins had been edging imperceptibly toward him. Irietoff, concerned with what ho was saying, his hand, which held the automatic, bringing by his sidOj was taken by surprise as Kenkins, with a sudden leap, sprang upon him, knocking him off the wheelbarrow. Peabody sprang to his friend's assistance, and, in a moment, the Russian was disarmed. He seemed to accept his capture with equanimity, and made no attempt to struggle, which, indeed, he could riot do, seeing that the large Kenkins was sitting comfortably on his chest. Within a few minutes their captive was trussed up as securely as possible with the pieces of ropo which Peabody fetched from the tool-shed. Kenkins, quite satisfied with, the proceedings, wiped the perspiration from his brow. " Well, Peabody," he said, " what's the next move ?" Peabody considered. " Well, we've got the man who murdered Steitlin," he said, " although, I must say, I prefer the murderer to the murdered. If this fellow didn't kill the other man I'd like to know who did. I think the best thing I can do is to leave you here with this fellow while I get over to Stranover as quickly as possible, and try to find out what O'Farrel's been up to." " All right," said Kenkins, " but bo as quick as you can; I'm not too keen on being left in the middle of moors with murderers." Peabody grinned. " I won't bo long," ho said, and made off across the moor toward Stranover. CHAPTER XVIII.

Eventually he found a jagged nail, sticking out from tho side of the shed, which suited Kenkins excellently, and, by standing with his back to it, and working the ropes against it, after threequarters of an hour's work ho succeeded in getting his hands free. Ho then freed Peabody from his bonds, and they jointly considered how they might get out of the tool-shed. This was fairly easy, for tho boards were old and rotten, and in one corner of the shed had already begun to crack. A determined onslaught on this weak spot with a chopper, which they found in the shed, soon made a hole large enough for Peabody to wriggle through. Kenkins followed with difficulty, and arrived on tho other side bathed in perspiration after his struggles. Outside, they stood looking at each other; neither had any set plan in his mind.

The mist had now risen, and the sun was making an endeavour to shine through the clouds. Peabody, walking round the shed, saw something, and signalled Kenkins. To their left, about a hundred yards away, and almost between them and Sepach Farm, stood another of the old-fashioned barns, which had evidently been used for storage purposes when the Farm was inhabited. Approaching this barn furtively, and with occasional glances over his shoulder, was the young man whom Peabody immediately recognised as tho young Russian he had met on the Salthaven Road the afternoon before. He drew Kenkins back behind the cover of the tool-shed, and, looking round tho corner, he saw the young man enter the barn. Kenkins, after Peabody had told him who the young man was, considered for a moment. " Look here. Peabody," he said eventually, " it's ten to one that this fellow was actually in the farm at the time those murders took place, and I think that it's very probable that he either committed them himself or he knows who did. Let's capture him! We are two to one, and, after all, if ho thinks that the game's up, ho may talk."

Peabody agreed. He was feeling so hopeless about the whole business that he was prepared to take any steps which might bring them to somo dofinito conclusion.

After a short consultation they separated. Peabody, making a wider detour, worked his way „over the moorland and round to the other side of tho barn, whilst Kenkins, taking advantage of such cover as the braken and gorso provided, took the direct line. When they arrived they saw that the barn door was slightly open. They listened but not a sound came from within, and, after a moment, Peabody pushed open tho door, and they entered. The bain was quito dark inside except for a patch of light which came through the open doorway. They peered into the darkness, but heard and saw nothing. Suddenly an electric torch was flashed into their eyes. " Come in, gentlemen," said a quiet voice, " but don't try any tricks. I have you covered, and I should not mind shooting either, or both, of you in tho slightest degree." As their eyes became accustomed to the darkness, they saw the young man, this Russian, who spoke English so well, sitting on an overturned wheelbarrow on the other side of tho barn, a large automatic in his hand, smiling. . "May I introduce myself?" he said. "My name is Irietoff." Peabody started involuntarily. So this' was Irietoff, one of the names which the man in tho fawn rain-coat had signalled before' he died. " I should put that gun down if I were you." lie said. "You won't gain anything by any moro shooting." Irietoff smiled, and, in spite of the fact that neither Peabody nor Kenkins had any reason to like him, they felt irresistibly drawn to this insouciant young man who sat there dangling tho heavy automatic between his fingers with a particularly good-humoured smile playing across his well-cut features. He extracted a cigarette case from his pocket with his free hand, then a matchbox, deftly struck a match, lit his cigarette, and threw tho case to Kenkins.

" Help yourselves, gentlemen," be said. " Incidentally may I know the reason for this visit?" His smile became even more bland. " Now look here, Jrietoff," said. Kenkins, " don't you think it's time that all this play-acting ceased ? My friend here saw you coming down tho Salthaven Road yesterday afternoon. Immediately after, two shots were fired, and two people killed at Sepach Farm. You said that you didn't ,hear those shots. Wo know that you must have heard them. Although it was raining hard, your clothes were not wet, and the only place whero you could have sheltered from tho rain was at the farm. You cither killed those men yourself, or you know who did it. Tho best thing you can do is to tell the truth."

(COPYRIGHT.)

By PETER CHEYNEY. Author of "The Vengeance of Hop Fi," "Adventures of Alonzo." etc.

A THRILLING STORY OF LOVE, CRIME, MYSTERY AND ROMANCE.

Tlio young man considered for a moment; then, still .smiling, he looked up. " I don't know if you are police-officers." lie said, " and I don't care very much. Perhaps I killed somebody at Sepach Farm; perhaps I didn't; but, if you are police-officers, J would like you to know that the lady who keeps the Turkish Cafe had nothing to do with these killings. I mention this because I may have been seen talking to her. and I should not like her to be mixed up in this affair." " That's very nice of you," said Peabody. " May I ask why you are so careful of this lady's reputation?" Irietoff grinned. " That's my business," he said, " and I don't wish to discuss it with you. Personally, I quite realise that I must be captured sooner or later. I am a stranger in England. I have been here only a few days. I have no friends, and my work is done." His face became serious for a moment. " I came to this country for a purpose," he continued. " I came to kill Steitlin and I have killed him."

Once out of sight of the barn and Kenkins, Peabody changed direction, and, turning to the left, made his way away from the moor toward the cliff road. Ho struck the road about five hundred yards from the Turkish Cafe, in the direction of which he now walked rapidly. Peabody was feeling better. Irietoff's remark that the woman had nothing to do with the murders at the farm had cheered him, and he felt that the time had come for an explanation. His heart beat rapidly as he approached the steps leading to the cafe. Ho visualised Irma, not as the woman in the gold kimono running through the rain toward a deserted farm, a woman associated in some way with murders and murderers; but as Irma that he had known, the woman he bad met and loved years before in Russia, the woman who had shared his honeymoon in happier days on these very roads and moors.

He ran down the steps quickly. The door of tho Turkish Cafe was open, and he went in. He found the switch, and turned on the light, illuminating the long, richly-furnished room about which an atmosphere of perfume still lingered. Tho place was empty. Peabody walked across the room, through tho curtains at the far end, through which ho had seen her disappear on tho occasion of her first visit, and up the winding flight of wooden stairs which led to tho first floor; but there was no one there.

The two rooms upstairs consisted of a bathroom and a bedroom. Peabody, standing cap in hand, in the bedroom, almost sensed the presence of Irma there. The room waif quietly elegant, and on the dressing table Peabody noticod, with a catch in his throat, a largo silver-framed photograph of himself in uniform—tho photograph which he had given her. He looked round,tho room, but found nothing to indicate where sho might be. A wardrobe door was open, and inside hung tho gold kimono. As Peabody was about to closo the door, he noticed something lying in tho corner of tho wardrobe. He bent down and picked it up. It was a small close-fitting felt hat, which, seemingly, had been thrown hurriedly into tho wardrobe, or knocked down from a peg when the garment was removed. Beneath it was a crumpled piece of paper. Peabody picked it up, and gave a start as he recognised O'Farrel's handwriting. He took tho note to tho window, and read it. It said : Dear Lady-in-thc-G old-Kimono, —Things are moving rapidly. I have conveniently disposed of the gentleman in plus fours, and all is now well. I shall ho hack in an hour with a car, and will take you to happier quarters for the time being. Sincerely, F,tienne O'Farrel.

Peabody stood regarding the note with a mizzled expression. It proved conclusively that O'Farrel had been at work, and, apparently, bad dealt with matters with his usual rapidity. Peabody was glad in his heart that Irma had been taken away from the morbid atmosphere of tho Turkish Cafe. The next thing was to find O'Farrel.

Ho left the cafe, and sot off briskly along the Stranover Road. It was nearly mid-day, and tho sun was shining. Peabody, to his great surprise, found himself whistling. For somo reason, which ho could not understand, lie felt quite cheerful. It was ten minutes past ono when lie arrived at the Crown Hotel at Stranover. Ho greeted tho portly landlord, who was slightly surprised at the sudden rc-appcarance of his guest who had so mysteriously disappeared. Peabody explained that ho had been called to London on business, and promptly examined the hotel register. There, before him, was the bokl and straggling writing which proclaimed that Mr. Etienno O'Farrel of London was a guest at the hotel. Peabody asked tho clerk the number of O'Farrel's room.

" Mr. O'Farrel's out sir," tho girl said, " but beforo he left ho asked me to give you this note. He said you'd be along shortly."

Peabody laughed outright. O'Farrel was certainly clever. Ho had guossod that Kenkins would know of his determination to solve the Sepach Farm mystery by himself, and know that Peabody would eventually try to find him. " O'Farrel thinks of everything," mused Peabody as he tore open the envelope.

Dear old Peabody,— I expect by this time that that onf, Kenkins would have guessed that I would come down here by myself. Of course I did. You didn't think I was going to be left out of a tirst-olnsa mystery like this, did you? And,.my lad. I'm doing very well. T'vo practically solved tho whole thing. By the way. don't worry abjut tho lady in the sold kimono. Sho is quito safe, but I rather fnncy that sho doc3n't want to see you just at tho moment Meet mo at Sepach Farm at twelve o'clock to-night, which time 1 think I r.hnll havo (lie whole business cleared lip. Tell Konkins to go to blazes 1 Yours. E. O'F.

Peabody jiut tho note in his pocket, and made for the hotel garage. His intention was to drive back, pick up Kenkins and the cuptivo, and hand Irietoff over to the local police. Candidly, Peabody could not see how O'Farrel could have solved tho mystery without capturing Irietoff, which ho certainly had not done, but Peabody thought that matters

could stand as they were until O'Farrel turned up that night, when they could compare notes Peabody understood that lima did not wish to meet him at the moment, but he felt more settled in his mind about her now that he was certain that she was Sa At half-past-one Peabody stopped the car, which he had hired, outside Sepach Farm, and, cutting across the courtyard, passed the small barn in the cornei, m which at this very moment Grant, the unfortunate individual in plus fours, was a prisoner, made his way toward the big barn in the moor where he had left K e "* kins. He felt that Kenkins would be thrilled and annoyed at the new develop'ments, for Kenkins disliked O'Farrel just as much as the cynical o'l< arrel disliked Kenkins, and it was with a smile on Ins face that lie kicked open the barn door. The sight within, however, removed the smile rapidly. Leaning up against the wheelbarrow, and trussed up with yauls of rope, was the portly form of Kenkins. Irietoff was gono. " Who did this, Kenkins? asked leabody, as he proceeded to untie the portly "'"'wiiospluttered the infuriated Kenkins, " who, but that young swine O'Farrel! A quarter of an hour ■aftei you left here he arrived smldenly and dCj manded the release of Irietoff. When 1 asked him what the devil lie meant, and why ho wanted Irietoff released, lie told me that it was to oblige a lady, and that I could jolly well mind my own business. Naturally, I refused, and before I coul say a word, he set about me. It i J" been fifteen years younger, said Kenkins, " I'd have given him a good hiding, as it is, I was no match for him. " Anyhow, to cut a long story short, after he had finished with me he released this fellow Irietoff. They tied me up, and off they went When I see O'Farrel again I'll toll him what I think of him. First of all, lie says he isn t coming down here, then he comes, and having arrived here he appears to have leagued himself with every odd murderer that he can find in this vicinity; and, as far as I can see," continued the disgruntled Kenkins, _ " the place seems to be positively teeming with them. Peabody grinned, and endeavoured to soothe the ruffled Kenkins feelings 0110 thing he was certain: 0 Fairel had some very good reason for releasing luetoff a reason which lie did not wish to explain to Kenkins. Peabody imagined the delight with which the enterprising O'Farrel had tied up his ancient enemy, and left him in the bain. . In a few words Peabody told Ivenkins of O'Farrel's note, and the appointment at tho farm at midnight. . Kenkins and Peabody, walking back to tho car, agreed that the best thing they could do was to go to bed, and g some sleep which they sorely needed so that they would be fresh for anything which the night might bring forth. Arrived at the car, they drove rapidly back to Stranover, Kenkins grumbling < the perfidy of O'Farrel, and leabody at the wheel, his mind busy with thoughts of Irma, gazing before him at the g vista of road. CHAPTER XIX.

It was half-past-four in the a.ternoon when O'Farrel, whistling, and with his cap on one side, opened the door of the small barn in the courtyard, and, entering, regarded the trusscd-up figure of Grant, who had not. forgiven O'Farrel for the extremely efficient manner in which ho had been knocked out regarded the young Irishman with a malevolent glance. " 1 advise you to untie these ropes, he growled. " I've had about enough of you; and if you think you can go about knocking out and tying up membeis of one of His Majesty's services you will soon find your mistake. O'Farrel grinned. " So that s it, is it?" he said. "I wondered exactly what you were, hut you see 1 thought you were on Rothenstarmer's side. . " What's that? " said the man in plus fours. " Kothenstarmer! What in the devil do you know about Rothenstarmer?" O'Farrel t took out his cigarette-case, inserted a cigarette between Grant s lips, lit it, and then one for himself. " 1 don't know very much about Rothenstarmer," he said, "but I do know I don't like his face at all, and that he and a party, who are rather undesirable friends of his, are coming down here tonight. In the meantime, supposing I do untie you, how do I know that you are telling tho truth "Go over to the police-station at Stranovcr," said Grant, " and come back with the inspector. You will soon find out if I am telling tho truth or not, and you will bo kicking your heels in a police-cell an hour afterwards, my young friend." O'Farrel considered. ' Well, said nc, " that sounds all right to me, but, joking apart now, if 1 untie you will you promise to be good '!" "If you don't untie me," replied Grant, " you will find there will be some more murders at Sepach Farm before another night is out." This remark decided O'Farrel. He took out his pocket-knife, and cut Grant's bonds. Tho latter stretched himself, and sat rubbing his chafed wrists. " Now, look here," ho said, " how are you mixed up in this business, and what do vou know about Kothenstarmer ?" O'Farrel, taking a seat beside Grant, told him briefly of. his search of tho two bodies the night before, and Rothenstarmer and his gang in the house in tho Tottenham Court Road. " You see." said O'Farrel, " this business has become a sort of competition between that ass, Kenkins, and myself. As a matter of fact," ho continued, smiling quite happily, " I expect I've been doing all sorts of things to annoy you, as, for instance, my releasing Irietoff." "Irietoff!" exclaimed Grant. "So he's hero. Where is ho?" " I'm afraid I can't tell you," said O'Farrel. " You see, I gave him my word I wouldn't. The fact of the matter is this. I expect you know something about this mysterious lady in tho gold kimono. Well, whatever happened at Sepach Farm, I am certain she knows all about Rothenstarmer, but she wouldn't say a word until I promised to bring Irietoff, the young Russian back to her. "Y'ou see," said O'Farrel, " I'd already taken her to a safe place. She told mo that she was going to meet Irietoff in that big deserted barn about two miles from het'C, so I said I'd go and fetch him. When I got there I found Kenkins on guard. Naturally, ho wouldn't let mo have Irietoff, so I had to bo a bit rough with him."

Grant gazed with amazement at O'Farrel. " You'vo got your nerve," he said, with a touch of admiration in his voice. " It seoins to me that we've all been running round tying each other up. I'd put that fellow Pcabody, and the other man, who, 1 suppose, is the Konkins you refer to, in the tool-shed in Deep End field, but apparently they escaped. But tell mo, when aro you going to see this pair, the woman and Irietoff, again ?" " Well," said O'Farel, " I've had a big idea about this business. I thought I'd get everybody together in the same place. You see, this follow Rothenstarmer, said that ho and his crowd would be down hero to-night. What they aro coming down hero for, I don't know, but, for some reason or other, he showed mo a. cutting about a torpedo flotilla coming into the English Channel. I can't make out (lie connection. Now, I've got an appointment with reabody and Kenkins at Ropach Farm at twelve o'clock tonight, and I've made an appointment with tho woman in the gold kimono and Irietoff to meet me at the Turkish Cafe at a quarter-to-twolvc. You'd better como along, too. It looks as if we might have a pleasant evening," said O'Fnrro!. (To be continued daily.)