THE WOMAN IN BLACK.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXVIII, Issue 20898, 13 June 1931, Page 13 (Supplement)

THE WOMAN IN BLACK.

By L. BAMBURG.

CHAPTER XlX.—(Continued). £ ' Haven't you had enough ?" questioned his tormentor. "Can't you realiso that this is going on until you speak or die—that you.are utterly and entirely in my power, and that you haven't an earthly chanco of get/ting away unless I permit it—" Tho temptation to ; speak was very great —the physical torture frightful. Ho had told tho, truth >yhen lie said ho did not know tho girl's address, hut ho could havo given her into tho hands of her enemies all the saino because tho next day was tho first Monday of the month, and according to the arrangement between them, she would go to tho abbey to keep tlio agreed rendezvous. If Robinson knew that, it would be tho easiest tiling in I lie world to trap her by sending* a forged letter to her there to lure her down to that sinister houso in which ho was then a prisoner. But ho just set hi,? teeth and swore to himself that ho would never buy his life at the'cost of hers. Just imagine that lovely girl at the mercy of a hell-hound like Robinson! "Silas! lie's going to faint again—lie's jis wliito as death," cried the woman jerkily. " I'm so dreadfully afraid of his dying, ho hasn't had a bite or sup since he left town." Robinson sworo disgustedly, evidently he must look a bit queer, Yorko thought, unci took advantage of the fact to lot his head dro[s back as/if he were unconscious. " You attend to him, Sonia, while I get some breakfast." said Robinson after a moment's reflection, " give him an egg and brandy—that'll set him lip—l'll be back in a jitley—oh, the awful waste of time—it's on the stroke of ono now." Sonia bustled mixing something Sn a glass which she held to his lips—- " Drink this," sho said aloud, then bending over him sho whispered in his ear: " It's sheer'madness to try to hold out against him —he's a desperate man, and means it w hen ho s'ays he'll kill you unless you do as ho wants you to. Bti advised bv me—toll him where Etta is—" ''On my soul I don't know," replied lYorko faintly, " you heard mo tell him so. You also heard 1110 say that if I know I wouldn't tell—but thank heaven I don't know! If 110 treats mo in this inhuman fashion how would ho treat her 1 I should bo unworthy to be called a man if I / saved myself at her expense—so —l'm glad I can't." Believe ine tho cases aro quite different," was the hurried assurance, " you see, you've crossed him just where he had Bet his whole heart and soul and strength. You've blocked his way to her, and naturally enough lie hates you—but he's in love with her, and once she's his wife—" " Which she never will be," emphatically. " I know very little about her, but I know J can answer for that—she hates him, she fears him, she'd fight against it .with her last breath—if she falls into his clutches lie will torture her as he is torturing me—and I'm thankful to heaven I/aa't betray her to him —not even if, as lie threatened, ho kills me by inches." " Then your death is on your own head," she said in a tone of concentrated fury, you can't say I haven't warned you—l wash my hands of you from this moment. I hear him coming back now—there's still time to save yourself!" Robinson entered as she was speaking, and Yorke shuddered as ho saw the cold malignancy of the, eyes fixed on his face, and noted. various shaped implements of torture in his hands. " It's just two o'clock," ho said in slow deliberate tone as he set them down on the table by the bedside, "and I'm going up to town by the express which loaves at seven—which means we have somo five hours in which to work. If you've anything to say, you better say it now—you'll be in no humour for conversation later on. If you are holding out for a share, of tho money, I'll meet you with n promise to pay a substantial sum to you on my wedding day—that .would cost me more than just getting rid of you altogether, but," with a callous shrug of his shoulders, " my sister would prefer to give you something out of her share, than have'you killed. She's a trifle nervous in such matters! For myself, I have no scruples—l'm going through with it. I'm going to make you tell me all I want to know in time for me to catch that seven o'clock train—or kill you! Do you get me ?" with his slow cruel smile, then bending over the prostrate form, he pdded: " The first item on my programme is *—putting on tho thumbscrews—the second, is—hammering nails into your feet—if those gentle means fail to persuade you—l'll blind you—so now you know. " I give you five minutes by the clock before 1 start —unless you speak before the expiration of the timo limit, I shall compjeuco tho entertainment!" CHAPTER XX. Septimus March was hugely pleased with himself—his notebook was filled, with tho exception of the last page, which he purposely kept blank because before another twenty-four hours rolled away tho word " Finis ' was to bo written to the Bartloy murder case, so far as he was concerned—which meant that he was on /his way to obtain warrants for tho arrests of Anthony Yorke and tho " Woman in Black,' ' of whose real name ho was still ignorant. " Perletto " could hardly be considered a formal appellation, while she had no legal claim to that of " Mrs. •Hartley." / ' 110 had worked ceaselessly on that case ever since it was put in his hands—ho had scarcely eaten or rested, especially during tho last week or two, for ho knew that Mrs. Bhyckstone and her betective Were hot 011 the trail, and unless he was very careful, they might snatch victory from his very grasp ! They met him at every turn. When their own clues failed they stole his—it Was a race between them as to which would get first. Now he had won—for only that morning he had traced tho Woman in Black to her riew hair,,arid meant to "take" her .Within tho hour! The only thing that perturbed him at oil was that, in spite of his every precaution, Anthony Yorke had contrived give him the slip on tho provious day. fi nd he had rjot yet discovered where he had vanished to. But that was nothing after all, for a Well-known man like Yorko couldn't possibly " get-away "—it would moan utter min. It, might have been different if he had taken any practical part in tho murder—people havo a predilection for saving their necks at all costs, but March Acknowledged to himself that Yorke hadn't played a hanging part in the tragedy—only it was his evidence that would convict the woman! and so they were both to be arrested on the capital charge. They would force him to speak—or, ff he still rc/hained silent, why, his sister a 'ul man servant's evidence would bring the truth out—and the woman? Well, there was a prejudice against hanging women, and the great beauty of that particular one would sway tho jury tremendously in her favour. I hen again, her side of tho affair was •till to be heard—there might be mitigat-,-lng circumstances. ' ihe verdict might bo "manslaughter" • or "in solf-defenco " —or ' justifiable ' homicide "-for if the evidence against her ' proved absolutely damning, even aftor being convicted and sentenced to death, she might bo reprieved, and get off with a term of penal servitude! March felt rather glad to think she had that chance. Sho was guilty, of course—but she was so very young, so very pretty, that, apart from his professional zeal, he did not want the extreme penalty carried ■Put—his one wish was—to prove his case !

(COPTMGIIT.) A SUPERB NEW SERIAL OF ADVENTURE AND MYSTERY

" I'll get her now," ho decided to himself, as lie closed his notebook and replaced it m his pocket, " and then I'll go after him. I'll not let her out of my sight until she's safo m Itolloway jail!" " Bless mo if it ain't Air. March," exclaimed a familiar voice, just behind him, at ths stage of his reflections, and, turning sharply round, ho was just a triflo disconcorted to find himself l'aco to faco with Hawkins. Personally, ho rather liked Hawkins, " a well-meaning, lionost, good-natured fool," as ho summed him up privately, " and if ever 1 was grand gentleman enough to requiro a. man servant, I'd give him the first offer of the situation, because he's tho only man I ever met who won't bo bribed, f.nd is loyal to his master.*' Which was why ho was rather sorry to run across him than. Hawkins would be aghast at Yorko's arrest, for tho absurd fellow beliovcd his master to be absolutely perfect without fault or failing. "Hallo! Hawkins," he replied, a trifle constrainedly, " and what wind has blownyou to these sordid parts so early in tho morning? Thought/ the park would have been more in your line," jocularly. " l'vo got a few days off," Hawkins told him, confidentially, " but I'm a bit bored with my own company—having been so much abroad of recent years rather put a fellow off making friends. What d'you say to a day up tho river, together? At my expense?" March laughed and shook his head. " Declined with thanks," ho replied, " too short notice, and all that. Ask mo for to-morrow —or for one day next week, and I'll consider lit." " It just happens to be for to-day that I want you." " And it just happens that I've already filled the date with an important pieco of work." " Which leaves you free for to-morrow and next week ?" " That's so," laconically. " Which means then, that you aro finishing up tho Bartley case to-day?" March started slightly—ho wasn't prepared for Hawkin's shrewd deduction, but as all the world would know on tho morrow, there was no reason for concealing tho truth. Why, yes," he admitted slowly, " guessed first time." You mean that you know who really killed Bartley?" " I do." " And—perhaps are even contemplating arresting tho guilty party to-day ? " "Such is my intontion." " Look here, Mr. March," said Hawkins, laying an urgent touch 011 his arm, " you and 1110 have been pals—quite chummy, haven't we? I'vo obliged you on ever so many occasions, and, as you yourself once said, you've always found mo straight and friendly—now, in return, I want you to tell me the names and addresses of the parties you are going to arrest for tho crime See ? " The detective laughed as a grown-up person does at some grotesque request of a child. "As you say, old man, we've been quite chummy, and I hope nothing will occur to upset the pleasant state of affairs, but leave business out of it, there's a good fellow. Business is business—and can't be mixed up with friendship." " You mean you won't talk ? " " Just that," good-humouredly. There was silence for a few minutes, during which March looked at his watch, and Hawkins thought hard, then said in a different tone and manner from what March had ever heard him use before: " Well! if you won't talk, I must. Tho fact is, Mr. March, this caso means a lot to you—it'll make you or mar you, and as I really believe you to bo a genuinely good fellow, in spite of my usual prejudice against your profession, I'm stretching a point to prevent your making an absurd mistake." " Very much obliged to you, sir, I'm sure," was tho sarcastic reply. " Even the best of us ire liable to make mistakes. 1 '.To err is human, etc.,' but as my time I is valuable, and I've already wasted ci good ten minutes talking to you, may I ask you to hurry up ? " " I wanted you to tell me the name of the party or parties you accuse of the murder of Blackstone, alais Bartley, which you refuse to do," said Hawkins slowly, in that new impressive tone of his, " and so I'll begin with saying that I sincerely hope that you've discovered that my master, Mr. Yorke, and the ' Woman in Black,' who took refuge in his rooms on the night of tho murder and who are engaged to be married to one another, have nothing to do with it? " " Hopes th.it are brightest fade the first," was tho reply, " and sinco you've mentioned two persons, Hawkins, I'll admit that they are the ones I contemplate arresting to-day." "Don't! Be advised by me, Mr. March. Beliovo me, you will live to thank me for tho advice if you are wise enough to take it—and you'll rue it to tho last days of your life if you reject it. Don't do tha-j thing—it would mean professional ruin to you—it would make you the laughing stock of the Yard, and every criminal in London would jeer at .you. Don't apply for those warrants —don't arrest those two persons." " Look here, Hawkins," exclaimed tho detective with a sudden chango of tone, " You'll get yourself into trouble if you're not careful. Ido not go about arresting peoplo unless. I've very good reason for it. I'd a darned sight sooner let a guilty party escape me than arrest an innocent one. I never ' rush *my cases. I haven't rushed this one." " Is'o—because you weren't sure," put in Hawkins. It's puzzled you—it puzzles you still—there are points you can't solve, but you aro tired of waiting —you feel sure that once you have those two in the dock, and Miss Yorke and mo under cross-examination, the missing .links will be found, and your caso proved, you never made a bigger mistake in your life. If you are in court when I'm in the witness box with those two in the dock, you'll pray for tho end of the world to come quick and for the earth to open and swallow you up. And then, you'll slink out a broken man —never to bo heard of again—as a promising member of the Yard staff, anyhow." " What the devil do you mean ? Don't you know tho penalty for perjury ? If you are on oath iri the witness box, and wilfully conceal, pervert, or juggle with the truth " " Don't trouble to finish—it's unnecessary," put in Hawkins coolly. " When I'm on oath in tho witness box in the Bartley murder case, I shall tell the truth, tho whole t:.-uth, and nothing but tho truth —only sometimes truth is stranger than fiction—and tho truth I shall have to tell won't bo the truth you want and expect to hear —for sometimes the cleverest, most painstaking, conscientious detective makes mistakes, just as occasionally very experienced engine drivers go off tho rails." " Look here, Hawkins, I've worked on this case night and day for over three months. I've investigated doubtful points. I'vo pieced together scraps of evidence. I've read letters not meant for my eyes, I've heard things not meant for iny ears, and I'm perfectly satisfied with the result of my labours. Now, as I believo you moan well, I'll admit that the ' Woman in Black f may not have fired the fatal shotr—she may spring some man upon us—oossibly Leon Legrin as having boon concealed in tho room with or without her knowledge, before Bartley arrived—or as having been admitted while Bartley was downstairs at dinner. You may be able to prove that, and save her from tho gallows, but even so, that | wouldn't prevent my" getting groat kudos from tho case—and I intend to reap tho fruits of :my labours." " You know where to find her ?" " Yes! In that house opposite. I havo two men watching at tho back." " Quite sure she's there ?"

" Dead sure," confidently. " Her room • is on tlio first lloor, and slio's sitting at a I table writing letters. I can see her all ' tlio timo— if I'd only missed hor for a moment," with a laugh, " this interview would have been cut short very abruptly. " Well, I'm willing to bet on it," said ' Hawkins, quietly. " You think she's s there and I know she isn't —if I prove ' right, will you come with mo to-day to Uio country, and " ; " Stand wlicro I'm standing, and you ' can see for yourself," was Iho rejily. " Perlctlc —tho Woman in Black—writing letters—it would bo quite safo to accept 1 your terms—only I've another bird to catch boforo I'm free to indulge in 1 picnics." 1 " All right," acquiesced Hawkins, with a resigned shrug of his shoulders. " Go, olliecr, and do your duty —I'll watch tho 1 comedy from outside. You'll find mo hero if bv any chance you aro tuiablo to arrest tlio lady to-day—and then we'll liavo another chat." March broke away rather abruptly—ho could still sco Perlctto. The sunlight fell on her yellow hair, but Hawkins' quiet assurance made him vaguely uneasy. lie knocked peremptorily at the door, which at once opened to him, and then with just a word of explanation, brushed past the startled landlady, made his way to tho front room on tho first floor, in which ho had scon Perlotto through the window. He meant to tako her by surprise, but found tlio door locked—and it remained shut in spito of his shaking it, and his demand for admittance. Tho utter silenco, tho absence of any sound or movement, or cry of dismay, gave him a strangely disconcerted feeling. Suppose Hawkins was right after all ? Suppose she had got away, and that no earthly arrest wero possible? Suppose all that steady writing was the prelude to suicide 1 Suppose she had taken poison and gone to the higher tribunal above? " Tho door is locked from the inside—and, by Jove! thcro's no key in it," said lie to tho landlady, "bring another at once! There's a desperate criminal in this room, and I'in here to arrest her." Tho frightened woman hurried downstairs to obey orders, but March couldn't wait, so lie threw his wholo strength against the door—once—twice —and at the third effort it yielded and opened. The figure was still at tho table—tho yellow hair gleamed in a sudden burst of sunshine, but even at bis first glance March realised that " Perletto " had again " got away," for tho form was only a dressmaker's dummy, with a golden wig dexterously perched on the top. I.'ooled—fooled ! His disappointment was so bitter that he could have sworn aloud. Ho was standing there in deep humiliation when the landlady returned with a bunch of keys, to add her amazement to his. "Well! I never! did you ever? With her dress on, an' a wig tho colour of her very own hair! My! Ain't she smart? Is is for shop-lifting you wanted her?" " For murder," ho replied, grimly, and tho woman shrieked aloud in her horror. Ho questioned her closely, examined every scrap of pager, turned out every drawer. It was another clean get-away, and, more chargined than he had ever been in his life, March took his departure, left tho houso and found Hawkins awaiting him outside, as he had promised. Tho detective's manner had changed perceptibly. Hawkins realised that at once—it was now that of a Detective-Inspector of Police to a man suspected of malpractices—to the associate of dangerous criminals. " I want your explanation, Hawkins," ho said, very sternly. " You know altogether too much about this business. You knew she'd gone—you knew whpro she's gono to —you tried to get mo to abandon my duty to-day to give her a longer time in which to escape. By George! I've a good mind to arrest you on tho spot!" j " I wouldn't if I were you," Hawkins | told him, quietly. "If you remember, I told you she wasn't here—just as I told you and tell you again now, emphatically, sincerely, that she had nothing to do with tho murdtfr—neither she nor my master ever set foot in Flat 6 and neither of them ever saw Blackstono alive or dead." " Sinco you know so much—or profess to know," sarcastically, " perhaps you know even more ? And that is—if she didn't kill Bartlcv, who did ?" Yes, I know that—and could put my hand on tho guilty party at any moment," was the amazing answer, which well-nigh dumbfounded March. He could only reply with a kind of gasp: " Look here, Hawkins, you think yourself clever, don't you ?—and—and damn it, you aro clever, but not quite clever enough to fool me." Out again, Air. March," carncstlv, so far from wanting to make a fool of you I in trying all I can to prevent you liom making a iool of yourself. You're clever, too! You've performed wonders the way you'vo worked up this case. The pity is though, that while you've ceaselessly watched two people, whose actions seemed suspicious, but were in tact absolutely innocent, you missed tho real criminals who planned together a cruel murder, for sheer greed of gold. A woman who sold horself to Bartley knowing he was rich, knowing also (I'm j dead sure) that he already had a wife, j deliberately planned to kill him and steal I all his belongings even beforo she went 1 through tho form of marriage with him. ! Tho whole thing was mapped out by Perletto and Leon Legrin from tho very first day they made Bartley's acquaintance in a gambling saloon in Paris ; and they carried it through without a hitch—until lie was brutally murdered. Tho woman did it! " "Pcrlette! The Woman in Black!" excitedly. " Why, man, that's what I told you, and what you denied! 1 may be wrong about your master. 110 may be utterly and entirely innocent of ail complicity in tlio murder, but by taking her into his flat that night, and smuggling her out in disguise, he ranged himself deliberately against law and order, and for that he'll have to pay now by having a very unpleasant time." "You're off the track again, Mr. March," put in Hawkins quietly, "it wasn't tho samo woman. There were two ' women in black ' in Armiger Mansions on tho night of June 18—two fugitives in desperato straits, and you've been trailing tho wrong one. Seo ? " March breathed heavily. His head was in a whirl. Hawkins was all wrong, of course—and yet? " Look here," ho said, hoarsely, "if the woman I trailed isn't Perletto—if she didn't kill Bartley—what did she do ? I've heard of no other crime taking place about there just at that time—if slio's tho real innocent daisy you're trying to make me believe, why did she trick mo and everybody else by getting away as Yorke's sister ? Why did they plot and plan that impersonation ? Why did she aisapear so suddenly from tho masquerade, or pose as ' Miss Grey ' , and leave Mrs. Smith's lodgings in tho middle of the night? Why has she been hiding in that house opposite, and tricked mo with that dressmaker's dummy ? Above all, why should an innocent girl allow herself to lie under tho suspicion of a dreadful crime, and what tho devil do you mean by aiding and abetting her in her escapades ? Come! you answer thoso questions, and I'll promise to think seriously of your theory." (To bo continued on Saturday next.)