THE WHITE CARD.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVIII, Issue 20842, 8 April 1931, Page 16

THE WHITE CARD.

By JAMES RONALD.

CHAPTER XlX.—(Continued). Cam sank into a chair, trembling spasmodically, and wiped the perspiration from his brow with a large silk handkerchief. Liko most of the followers of his "despicable profession, his skin was very precious to him. There y was silence for some moments, while he recovered his composure. When he spoke, he was almost his old self again. / 44 You have given my nerves quite a Shock," lie said in a voice that was almost steady. 44 You wouldn't dare fire the thing, of course, I knew that, but .your hand might have trembled and set the things off." She looked at him with bitter amuse•nient. 44 You were shaking so much," she responded searingly, "that I should probably have missed you!" He controlled his anger; he had become afraid of her. 44 A little holiday will bo necessary after this ordeal," he replied smoothly, " and you must supply the wherewithal. Say, five hundred pounds, my dear, by .Saturday Tnorning." She shook her head. / ' 44 1 can't'raise a penny. My allowance jß'oa't be paid for another month." He was relieved that; sho did not seo the power his fear had given her over him. 44 You /must try. lam desperately .hard up." A thought came to him which seemed staggeringly brilliant. 44 Look here, you say your husband has been threatened. . Why not kill him yourself ? The blackmailing letter would avert suspicion from you, unless you bungled the job, and you would be rid of him, and worth millions at a single stroke!" She gave him one look of contempt as she crossed the room to the door of tho little flat. 44 How utterly contemptible you are!" she said, opening tho door to go. 44 It's wforth 'thinking over," he replied in a low tone. 41 Poison would- be safest." As an afterthought he added: " Don't forget to let me have something by Saturday morning, my dear!" The door closed behind her. The woman left the building hurriedly, end miade her way swiftly along' Gower Stroet ttc the corner. There she hailed a passing/ztaxi, and was about to climb in, whnn a voice addressed her. 44 .Gcrod-morning, Mr 3. Brayd," it said, and £dhe turned t,o recognise Norman Brownrigg. Tp Ihis surprise, she entered the cab witlliout speaking, and closed the door. .Jisr white face was averted as the cab tfirove off.f CHAPTER XX. Another suspected person. That Mrs. Brayd had been making a tall in Govter Street certainly was not a mysterious circumstance, but the fact tha£ she had recognised and ignored him .Struck Norman as peculiar. Why she should look so frightened he could not guess, unless the cause of her fright had a connection with the blackmailer of Peter Brayd, and that was scarcely likely, "unless one decided, with Inspector Evans, ■that everyone who had a connection with the case was to be suspected. He shrugged his shoulders. Not Mrs. .'Brayd, but Elsa Waring, was his main interest this morning. He intended to pay a call to his aunt's house, where .'Elsa was spending the morning for some jeason or other.

He glanced round as he walked to the mearest 'bus route, and a man who was :following him at a respectable distance istopped to tie his shoe. Norman waited -,%vhile the man went through an elaborate •■pantomime with his already neat shoe--laces. When the man looked up, Norman beckoned him. The man came •tip, grinning in a shame-faced manner. INorman smiled at his obvious discomfiture.

" My dear Burke," he said, softly, " I 'know every man at The Yard too well to mistake you for the casual lounger you are pretending to be. I-don't suppose you imagined for a moment that you were taking me in; you and Cottar have taken it in turns to dog my footsteps all the week—at Inspector Evans' instructions, of course. Well, let's not be mysterious. You want to know where I go, and I don't paiticularly mind, so let's stroll along together." The other agreed, and they boarded a 'bus together. When they arrived at Miss Brownrigg's house, Norman turned to his companion.

" Here is where we part company, for the present .at least," he remarked. Although I've no doubt you'll be hanging about when 1 come out again. That 'lounger over there with the cap and muffler is Kelly, who has been told off to keep Miss Waring under observation, and the gentleman in the brown suit down the street a bit, who is so deeply interested in the newspaper that he can enjoy it upside down, is Turner, who is shadowing Mr. Martin. It mightn't be a bad idea for two of you to slip round corner and have a drink, while the other holds the fort. Shadowing is thirsty work, and I don't suppose any of us will leave the house for a good half hour. Just a.suggfestion ,of course." With' that he ran lightly up the steps, and was admitted to the house by the prim maid-servant. Miss Brownrigg, Elsa Waring, and Sydney Martin were in the library, into which he was shown. His aunt, who for once had put aside her knitting, was writing busily, while .Sydney and'Elsa were pounding away on typewriters, Elsa 011 a shining Studdington portable, and Sydney Martin on a battered old machine. 1

" Miss Brownrigg looked up as Norman entered the. room.

" If you are stopping for any length of time," she said, after a brief greeting, " we'll give you a job to do. We are far too busy this morning to entertain any drones." " Delighted," replied Norman cheerfully. " What, shall Ido ? ' Sing a song to make tlio work go with a Bwing ?" Sydney looked up with an exaggerated pretence of horror.

" Please don't," lie exclaimed. " I've heard you sing before. A torn cat on the wall at night is not less musical!" Norman sank into a vacant chair beside Elsa.

Don't you even say ' Hello' In drones, .while you're working?" he asked. She glanced at him mischievously. " No, we put tliein to work folding circulars. Miss Brownrigg, won't you please Rive him a bundle to do? A little work should be a pleasant break in his life of idleness!" "Traitress!" he hissed. "All right, where are they ? May I fold them three-corner-wise?" As he balanced a bundle of circulars on his knee, Norman examined with interest the envelope which Elsa had just typed. The type looked very similar to that of the blackmailing letters, but of course, the make of machine was the same, and Norman was not an expert. " I didn't know you had a Studdington, lAunt," he remarked. Miss Brownrigg smiled at him, her pen balanced iri mid-air. " I haven't, . that is Mrs. Brayd's machine. I borrowed Elsa from Sir William Rootes for the morning, and she arranged for the typewriter." " I see." ' Norman read, a few lines of one of the circulars. It was the half-yearly report of the Holme Dene Farm, which was sent out to all who were interested in Miss Brownrigg's institution, and many others S'PB®. phe .hoped eventually to interest. lilllivto/.. '

(CorriuciiT.)

BAFFLING STORY OF A SILENT SYMBOL OF CRIME.

" 4 Work lias been commenced upon the new swimming-pool!'" lie read aloud, •" 4 and meantime, our sanitary arrangements have been amplified by tho addition of six new bath rooms.' Good Lord, Auntie, the orphans won't appreciate that improvement!" Miss Brownrigg laughed. 44 No, (hey consider six new bathtubs as inore of a menace than anything else," she agreed. " A soap manufacturer sent us a ton of soap once, and was surprised, poor man, at the chilly reception the children gave him on his next visit to the farm." 44 Littlo pets!" said Elsa. 44 They're the only orphans I've ever known who are quite natural." Norman protested. 41 How many have you known, miss?" ho demanded. She laughed mischievously. 4,1 Sydney and you, and little me," she replied. 44 And, of course, JL'vo visited OLI3 or two orphanages." 44 And I'm not natural ?" " Don't be silly, of course you aren't!" she teased. 44 You proved that by becoming a policeman." " And Sydney ?" 41 I don't pretend to be," put in Sydney before Elsa could reply. 44 I really enjoy washing my neck, for one thing, and I'm practically a ' foreigner' for another. Cook will tell you that no 4 foreigner' is quite right in "his head. Poor old negro Clmrley! He and I are objects of suspicion because we are natives of Darkest Africa." There was an awkward pause. Then— I'm not quite normal either." went on Elsa. 44 I never long for new clothes, and that's the height of eccentricity in a woman !" 41 What an economical wife you will make," said Norman boldly. She did not answer. By dint of hard work, the bulk of the circulars were ready by one oclock, and Norman accepted his aunt's invitation to stop to lunch. When that was over, he offered to seo Elsa to Sloane Square. As ho picked up the typewriter; he noticed a peculiar triangular scar which disfigured the case. It had been caused, Elsa told him, through the clumsiness of a railway porter when Mrs. Brayd had been on holiday. Miss Brownrigg came to tho front door with them. 41 See you at the Brayds' for dinner, I suppose?" Norman asked. 44 I don't know; I would rather not go, now that this awful menace has passed to Mr. Brayd." 44 You must come, dear," Elsa urged. 44 My uncle will be furious if anything upsets the' arrangements. This dinner has become a sort of gesture to prove that he doesn't care tuppence for the 4 Dark Angel's' threat." Miss Brownrigg considered this. 44 Well, I'll come," she said finally. 44 But mv poor nerves won't stand much

excitement!" As Elsa and Norman left the house, detectives Kelly and Burke detached themselves from the railings on the other side of the street, and followed at a discreet distance. Elsa shivered a little. '■ This eternal shadowing is getting on my nerves," she murmured. 44 I'm even beginning to think that there must be something in the Inspector's suspicions of me; perhaps I have a dual personality, and go about committing crimes that my real self is ignorant of!" Norman laughed lightly.

41 If Kelly's attentions worry you, you can always lose him by going into one of the shops which sell the more mysterious of ladies' garments. He's far too modest to follow you there!" When they arrived at the house of Sir William Rootes, Elsa said the briefest of farewells, since sho did not care to linger under the stolid eyes of the phlegmatic pair who had followed them. Norman crossed the square, and left Mrs. Brayd's typewriter at the millionaire's house.

Then lie beckoned to Burke, and they set off for Scotland Yard together, much to that officer's relief, since Norman's presence at headquarters would enable the shadower to have his lunch. Norman went straight to the little office which he shared with Inspector Evans. It was deserted. He sat down at his desk, and went through his pockets carefully, for tidiness in that respect was a fetish with him. He. liked to have his pockets free of old letters, bills, and the hundred-and-one odd scraps of paper which men carry about with them. The fact that he invariably dumped all of

hose oddments into a desk drawer and

forgot all about them, so that his desk was always untidy, did not seem to detract from his pride in his personal neatness.

In one of his pockets lie found a folded sheet of paper. lie flattened it out. It was the first threatening letter which Peter Brayd had received. Norman had forgotten to turn it over to the Records Department. lie leaned back and re-read it slowly, grinning at some of its allusions to the unscrupulous millionaire. He tried to picture the " Dark Angel" from it, and received the impression of a strong personality, probably a young man with a well-developed sense of humour, and one who was utterly ruthless. lie dusted some black powder on the paper, blew on it, then idly examined the finger-prints which were brought into relief. He did not expect any result, for the finger-print department's investigation of the other letters had shown only the prints of those who had handled the letters after they had been received. The blackmailer, in all probability wore gloves.

There were three different sets of fin-ger-prints on this letter. One he recognised as his own, and another was plainly Brayd's—there was no mistaking the millionaire's huge splayed fingertips. The third, lie thought idly, was probably that of Evans, or Sir Frederick Stanley. Then a significant fact occurred to him. No one but Brnyd and himself had handled the letter since the millionaire received it. The fingerprints must have been 011 the letter before it was delivered, which meant that it was the fingerprint of the " Dark Angel." There was, too, something distinctly familiar about the print. Jlo felt sure that he had examined similar lines and whorls before. . The significance of his discovery sent him in haste to the fingerprint department. There lie asked to see the photographs of the prints that had been on the previous letters.

" Tliero isn't much of interest to be discovered from them," the official who gave them to him remarked. , " All the prints have been identified. There's vonrs, Evans, Miss Brownrigg's and Miss Waring's, Sir Montgomery Bulger's and Sir Frederick Stanley's. None of you has a record, fortunately." While the official laughed at his own slender jokn, Norman examined the prints with interest. Suddenly he uttered an exclamation. " I'll borrow this one, if you don't mind," he said, selecting the print which had interested him. The official assented, and ho went quickly back to his own room. An orderly came out of the room as Norman approached. " Sir Frederick Stanley wishes to see you, sergeant," lie reported. (To be continued daily.)