MYSTERIOUS MR. MALLAFORD.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIX, Issue 21130, 12 March 1932, Page 13 (Supplement)

MYSTERIOUS MR. MALLAFORD.

CHAPTER VII. A THEORY. At that, Mr. Bussill aud myself both turned on Gray with a mutual senso of enquiry; it was clear that Gray had some potion, "Yes?" said Mr. Bussill. You mean "I mean that having heard your story, jir, I am inclined to think that Mallaford 0 f Mallaford Court may be Mallows, the defaulter, of Holford!" replied •'Just that!" Mr. Bussill nodded, took a pull at the tontents of his glass, and sniffed; the sniff expressed a good deal. " Ave!" ho said quietly and drily. " I ghouldn't wonder! I've been thinking something of that 6ort myself. Now tell p ie what is this Mallaford like?" Gray left the answering of that quesfion to mo. I described Mallaford as well as I could. Mr. Bussill then wanted to know who and what Mallaford was; was lie married and so on. I replied to his further questions according to my ability.

Financial man in the City ? Bachelor? No wife there at any rate? {striking looking woman as housekeeper?" soliloquised Mr. Bussill. "Um! Well, gentlemen, as we seem to be in for it, I'll tell vou more about Mallows. It has always been believed here, though there's never been any proof of it, that Mallows did not leave this town alone or, that if ho did. ho was not alone long. About the time he disappeared from Holford, there plso disappeared a Mrs. Carstone, the wife 0 { a rising young doctor in the town. £he too, was never heard of again." "Was no attempt made to find her?" asked Gray. " Oli, • yes —not in such thorough fashion as in Mallows' case, but still plentv. It was 110 good—aud her husband dropped it,* took to drink, and died some ■years ago. And of course, as I say," continued Mr. Bussill, " it's always been believed here that she joined Mallows end that they went—Heaven knows y,-here! Then, to be sure, there's another matter—Mallows left a wife here! .JA wife —but; no children. Well, it isn't twelve moir.hs since the wife died. Fortunately for her, she had a little fortune •of her own —enough to live on. She never made the slightest attempt to find Mallows—she just resigned herself to his desertion and went quietly on till her end .came—recently. Now, I've been wondering if Mallows—that is, if he's alive—has contini.ed to keep himself acquainted •with Holford events, with our recent .history ?" " If Mallows was the clever man you tidepict him to be, I should say yes!" replied Gray. " And the more I hear, the :piore I'm beginning to feel certain that Mallaford of Mallaford Court is Mallows formerly of Holford. It may be, too, that this striking-looking woman that Leicester tells irie of, the supposed housekeeper .Mrs. Barfoot, is the Mrs. Carstone you mentioned just now, Mr. Bussill. Well now, if that is so, if we indulge ourselves by supposing that it is so, I think I have a reasonable theory as to how Susan Wheeler came by her death. It is, of •course, or.ly theory—but it's worth considering." " Any theory is worth considering," remarked Mr. Bussill. " Be sure though, that it's reasonable theory and not unjbridled imagination!" " I think mine's reasonable," said Gray. Any way, this is what it is. Dr. WardePiobertson_. of the opinion that it may do his rheumatism or neuritis or whatever it is he is suffering from good, sends Mallaford a professional masseuse, Susan Tt'heeler, who attended him at his private hous*, Mallaford Court. Susan Wheeler recognises Mallaford as Mallows, the man for whom she's been saving up her ven geance for years —saving and nursing it, indeed, until she's become—shall we say —a monomaniac on that point ?" "Quite likely!' murmured Mr. Bussill. f'She was the sort of woman who could never forget wrong or injury and would brood anci brood over it."

" Well, she recognises Mallaford as Mallows, the man who'd wronged her family find been the cause of her mother's death," continued Gray. " She loses all control of herself and attacks him. There's a, fight, * struggle—if she really had developed a mania ot, that point it's quite a reasonable supposition—and in the course of it her neck is broken. All that could take place in Mallaford's study or private room or bedroom without anyone knowing. Well we'll suppose that the two principal inmates of Mallaford Court, Mrs. Barfoot one. Wobbam, the secretary, the other, are so devoted to his interests that they're only too willing to do anything on his behalf. What easier than to keep what happened from the servants, and. during tiie night, to remove the body to the wigfc(Kinr'ng wood? What do you think of that, as a theory ?" Mr. Bnssill showed no sign of making snv immediate answer: I had one ready. " If Mallaford is Mallows," I said, " and 8s he's made full reparation to other people he'd robbed, or whose money he'd lost in .Hoiford, why should he fear detection now? I take it that you mean, Gray, that he and his secretary or perhaps housekeeper connived at keeping Susan Wheeler's death secret—at least, of conspiring to keep,secret the truth as to where and how it occurred. But, if MallafopcJ, otherwise Mallows (we'll suppose they're identical), has made good his defalcations here, why should ho be afraid . It might, have been annoying and unpleasant to have the past raked up again, but anyhow he'd shown his desire to recompense tho people who'd lost by him, end had done so, and given them four per cent, ir to the bargain, and so I don't quite Be 2 —" Mr. Bussill came in then, after nodding his head at each clause of my sentence. But his nods were not of assent but of Superior knowledge. " We 1." he said slowly, " as a matter ®f fact, Mallows, who was always a very sharp fellow, well acquainted with law, knew and knows now if he really is in being, that howevei' long he lives the police are waiting for him! There's no time limit in cases or criminal prosecuton, 3'ou know. But let me explain. \\ lien Mallows disappeared a'hd his affairs were £°n® into, it was difficult to decide where he d transgressed the law. He'd been so infernally clever that, he's made it possible for himself to plead that whatever money had be on lost, or appeared to have been lost, it had been on the precise instructions of his clients and not through any i Malpractice of his own. However, thcie Was one instance in which there was no difficulty, and it was—mine!" "Ah!—yours, eh, Mr. Bussil! exclaimed Gray. " He'd drawn you in, had he?" " He had drawn me in—a little, sir, Mr. Bussill. " Mallows had a reputation, and he was regarded as a clever Man in financial matters. Well, I bad en--Irustedrusted to Mallows a certain sum, part of small savings at that time, with precise instructions as to what was to be «?ne with it. When the smash and his disappearance came, I obtained absolute Proof -.hat Mallows had misappropriated Jn y rnrnev, had in fact, applied it to his Cw n use, and I accordingly laid information ®Rainst, him. As a matter of fact a warrant '°r hin arrest was issued, and though it n<ver executed, it only needs renewal a t any time. I, I need hardly say, had to .take my share of the money I Mentioned just now, sent in reparation, j>ecauio if t had done so I might have possible criminal proceedings in future. And if he's alive, Mallows, of

CHAPTER Yin. . VOCES POPULI. We might have caught the 5.5 at Waterloo, but on the very point ol passing the barrier, Gray pulled me up. * "Stop!" lie said. " There s another train in half-un-hour, and there s a thing we ought to do. We should wire to our friend Mr. Bussill." "What about?" I asked. , " To tell him what wc have just learned from Dr. Warde-Robertson," he answered. " I don't understand, why, 1 said. "For what reason?" . "This 1 If any movement against Mallaford is to Lie set going,.it will bo far better if it originates with BussiL. he replied. " Bussill, according o his own account, is the only per«.n who has an undoubted right to enforce criminal proceedings against Mallows. The other people, in Bussill's .opinion,, could only institute proceedings m a civil court, but Bussill can have Mallows arrested even at this length of time. Now it will, as I

By J. S. FLETCHER. / Author of "Cobweb Castle," "The Wild Oat." etc.

A FINE STORY BY A FAMOUS NOVELIST.

course, is well a>vare of this, and accordingly, if this Mr. Mallaford, of Mallaford Court, is really the David Mallows I'm. talking about, I think Mr. Gray's theory a reasonable one—quite within bounds of possibility, indeed." " Remember, too, that I'm supposing that Mallaford killed Susan Wheeler in self-defence," remarked Gray, turning to me. He's a big, powerfully built man, probably stronger than one imagines, and she, from all I've seen and heard, was a slender, fragile, woman—didn't you say she was thin as a wisp ? The more I think of it, in tho light of all that Mr, Bussill tells mo, the more I'm convinced that there's something in my theory!" But I had another objection. It was ono which I felt to verge on the sentimental —but I put it forward. " I don't know how you'll look at it," I said, " but I can scarcely bring myself to believe that if Mallaford, whether he's Mallows or isn't Mallows, did kill Susan Wheeler, accidentally or otherwise, he'd bo quite such a damned scoundrel as to do what somebody certainly did—plant the dead woman's valuables ou an inno-" cent man's premises! Come!" Mr. Bussill made an inarticulate sound —I took it to mean that if I had seen as much of this world's depravity as he, an old lawyer, I shouldn t be surprised at anything. And Gray shook his head and looked very wise and a bit compassionate of my greenness. " That does credit to your good feeling, Leicester," he said, as if he had been twenty years my senior, instead of, as he was some ten years my junior. " But I assure you that there are men in this wicked world who could no more hesitate to do a thing like that in order to save their own necks than they would about telling a lie in a witness-box! For anything we know there may be tho gravest reasons, reasons all unguessed at by us, why it would be an absolutely fatal thing for Mallaford to have it known that he was Mallows. Quite apart from what —on Mr. Bussill's account —appears to hang over him if his identity with Mallows is established, there may be other reasons. And whatever you may think, there are men—yes, and women, too—who will stop at nothing to save their own skins. I can see exactly tho line on which Mallaford's argument would run. He'd say to himself, ' The police invariably go for the obvious. Here's a man close by tho scene of tho supposed murder who's in bad odour with them and whom they've been wishing to get at for years. Give them the merest proof that he's the guilty person and they'll stick to him like grim death till they've sent him to the scaffold; they'll be so occupied with him that they'll never even dream of suspecting anybody else. And what's his life in comparison with mine?' Am I right, Mr. Bussill ?" " Not far wrong, young man," muttered the old • solicitor. "Not far wrong." " Even then," I objected. " Mallaford would have had to employ accomplices. Are we to suppose" that his secretary and his. housekeeper would both agree to what is virtually the murder of Ayrton ? Are we to believe that there are three utterly depraved people under the roof of Mallaford Court —and one Of them a woman ?" " Again I repeat—we don't know what's at stake," said Gray. "My belief is that before we're done we shall come face to face with some very queer things at Mallaford Court. It wouldn't surprise me to find that Mallaford's secretary and his housekeeper are so hand-in-glove with him that they'd back him up in any action or undertaking." "Oh, well!" I said. "After all, it's nothing but a theory. We seem to be considering that Mallaford is Mallows —" " Considering all that we've learnt from Mr. Bussill," interrupted Gray, " I don't mind betting any reasonable odds that Mallaford is Mallows and that Susan Wheeler's death came about because she

recognised Mallows in Mallaford! But the first thing to do is to prove that Mallaford is Mallows. Mr. Bnssill, what sort of a man was Mallows when he left Hoi ford ?" Mr. Bnssill rose from his chair and moving across the room produced a bunth of keys from his pocke£, and thoughtfully regarded a bureau which stood in a corner. " Aye!" he said, meditatively. " What was he like ? Well, now, I have somewhere a copy of a description of Mallows which was drawn up and circulated by the police after I had sworn my information against him and when the ordinary means of search had failed. I have it in one of these drawers, but I can't recollect which—however, it may as well bo found now that it seems to be wanted." He found it—a handbill, printed on flimsy, common paper that was growing yellow with age. It was headed by the ominous word "Wanted," and it gave a description of David Mallows which was unusually full. Granting the difference in age and the fact that Mallows was a clean-shaven man whereas Mallaford wore a very full beard, the particulars were of such a nature as to height, colour of eyes and hair, general appearance, and so on that there seemed a strong likelihood of Mallaford being Mallows. And at the end came a sentence which, as Gray said afterwards, was of more use than all that preceded it. " The aforesaid David Mallows has on the upper part of his left arm, about two inches above the elbow, a peculiarly noticeable birthmark in the form of a brown circular patch about as largo as a penny." Gray let out a shout of—l don't know what to call it—on hearing this. He brought a hand down on his knee with a heavy smack. "That settles it!" ho exclaimed. " Mallaford is Mallows! Don't you see it? Susan Wheeler knew of that birthmark. Susan Wheeler was sent by WardeRobert.son to massage Mallaford's left arm for rheumatism. Susan Wheeler saw the birthmark and knew her patient for Mallows, the defaulter. A thousand to one I'm right! What do you say Mr. Bussill ?" " You are quite riplii in one thing, young man," replied Mr. Bnssill. ' Susan Wheeler did .know of the mark for I myself gave her a copy of this handbill. As for the rest, I "Lftink you will he able to make sure one way or the other befoie long." . . << We left Mr. Bussill then, promising to let him know what we did next and to keep him informed of our subsequent doings. And next morning Gray moved us back to town by the first available express. Arrived, early in tho afternoon, at King's Cross, ho hurried us to Dr. Warde-Robertson's house and got an interview with him. There was a good deal of secret talk at that interview and much stress laid by Gray oil the necessity of mutual confidence, but we came away 111 possession of a fact—Mallaford had on his left arm a mark precisely like that in the description of David Mallows. And we went back to Box Hill convinced that Mallaford was Mallows and beating our brains on tho problems arising out ol our discovery.

(COPTRIGBT.)

say, be far better, ff wo want to get at Mallaford, to let Bussill pull the lever that will set things working. In other words, Leicester, let us keep in the background and Bussill advance to the front!" " If ho will," said I. "I think ho will! Anyway, let us send him a wire. It will probably bring him south. And he may be of use to us, on the spot. Come along to the telegraph office —and let us word the message very carefully." I left the wording to him, watching him as, after some tliought, ho Slowly wrote out a couple of lines. Have secured medical evidenco as to presence of birthmark, identity of person appears to be conclusively established. " I'll append your name and address to that, Leicester," he said. "If tho old gentleman comes this way, he'll know where to make for. I wish he would como! —I'd like him to get a close view of tho eminent financier. * Th^ro!" ho added, having handed in the telegram, " let's get down to your place and hear tho news—if there is any." Lobbitt introduced us to what news there was, that evening, after dinner. Lobbitt had a habit, his own supper being over, of smoking his pipe in my kitchen garden, ruminating over possible results. Gray and I strolling round my bit of property with our own pipes going, came across him seated on a cucumber frame, and paused to exchange a word. " Anything fresh since I went off, Lobbitt?" I asked. Lobbitt removed his pipe from his lips and considered the question. " Can't say that there is, sir," he replied. " Those early potatoes —" " I mean—about the murder," I interrupted. " anything in the way of fresh news?" "Not fresh news, sir?" he replied. " But there's a Jot of talk going round. As, of course, was only to be expected! People will talk, gentlemen!—especially these country people." " What sort of talk ?" asked Gray. " Wild talk, I should say, a lot of it, sir," answered Lobbitt. " You know what these people are, sir," he went with a certain air of contemptuous superiority, himself, as he was fond of reminding me, being a London man. " They get together and chatter; the women at their doors and the men in the public houses, sir. And, of course, they all*-reckon to know better than anybody else. Qh, yes, gentlemen, there's a lot of talk going round." _ " I suppose you've heard it, Lobbitt. I suggested. " Some of it, sir," replied Lobbitt. " Can't avoid it. you know, sir—they're talking of nothing else just now. " What have you heard ?" demanded Gray. Lobbitt again considered matters, with the air of a man who, confronted with half-a-dozen different things scarcely knows which to tackle first.

" Well, sir," he said, " there's no doubt that the popular feeling's all on Ayrton's side! Deal of what you might call indignation growing up all round the district. They'ro beginning to talk about Ayrton as a deeply injured mam Wrongly suspected —and sort of thing, gentlemen." " In spite of the fact that the dead woman's valuables were found hidden on his premises ?" said Gray. "Yes, sir! They're making no secret of their opinion on that point—some of 'em, anyway!" " What is their opinion ?" Lobbitt smiled drily and glanced around as if to make sure that no one was within earshot. " Why, sir—it's just what you'd oxpeot of country people!" he replied. " They say that the police themselves planted those valuables on Ayrton's premises so as (o have an excuse to get at him! The police, they say, have been wanting to get their knives into Ayrton for years, and they saw their chance." " And there are people who really believe that, arc there?" asked Gray, affecting astonishment. "Really and trully believe it?" " Plenty of 'em, sir," replied Lobbitt. " Seems the most natural thing in the world that, sir—in their opinion. Thley say the police found the poor thing's dead body, took her money and valuables, planted them in Ayrton's outhouse, and pretended they'd never seen her till they were fetched to her. Believed quite honest, is that, gentlemen, by a lot of 'em round here." "And —what else, Lobbitt?" I asked. Once more Lobbitt looked round—we were not far away from the boundary hedge, separating my grounds from the lane that led to Mallnford Court—and when he spoke' again he lowered his voice to a whisper. " Well, sir," he replied, " there are some peoplo who sayjs that the folk at Mallaford Court know' a good deal more than they've ever told, so far—a good deal!"

Gray and I exchanged glances—we were wondering (I was, at any rate) if tho people to whom Lobbitt referred knew anything. " What do they think the Mallaford Coui-fc folk might have told?" asked Gray.

" Can't say, sir," answered Lobbitt. " You know, or perhaps you don't know, how these country people talk? All hints, and suggestions, and I reckon ho could say something if he liked sort of talk, sir. And of course, the poor woman had just conic from the Court, and tho Court isn't five minutes' walk froni whore Mr. Leicester found her —and so on." " Perhaps they'll say next that I know more than I've told," I suggested. " I shouldn't wonder, sir," remarked Lobbitt, calmly. " If they don't say so, they're sure to think so. You see, sir, these country people, they're that close themselves that they think everybody clso is! They can't understand anybody telling the truth." _ f " Do you know of anything else that 3 being said in the district ?" asked Gray. " Yes, sir! One lot of—well, what you might call wiseacres—hold that the woman wasn't murdered in the wood at all!" continued Lobbitt. "They say she was murdered elsewhere, and that her dead body was carried to tho wood during the night, and placed where Mr. Leicester found it. According to that Jot, she was murdered in some house and afterwards robbed there." "Any particular house? asked Gray, knowingly. . . Lobbitt shook his head and smiled " I don't think they'd go so far as to give any particular house a name, .sir, ho answered. " There's always a bmit to gossip, sir—especially if they think they'd get themselves into trouble by mentioning names. But of course,know what house they're thinking of.' " Well—which?" enquired Gray. "Mallaford Court, of course, sir! > oil see, gentlemen, it's just hero, and Mr. Mallaford is a stranger! He's only been in these parts—is it a couple of years. Well, he'll still be a stranger when lie s been here ten years. And country folk are always suspicious of strangers, especially if they don't know how they come by their money. You'll not mind my mentioning it, gentlemen, but thero was a man that lives here asked me the other day what my master was. I told him Mr. Leicester was a gentleman who wrote scientific books. Yes, he said, lie'd heard that, but what did he do for a living ? You see. sir, if you aren't a farmer, or a butcher, or a grocer, or anybody who buys and sells—l mean if you're anybody who makes your money out of your brains, country people suspect you. Now nobody hereabouts knows how Mr. Mallaford makes, or has made, his money, so he's naturally an object of suspicion. Money that isn't made by labour or by buying and selling is always suspect by country folk, gentlemen!" _ " We're learning a lot from you, Lobbitt.," remarked Gray. " I daresay you're quite right, too. Well—are there any _

theories among these people—havo you heard of any other ideas?" " I did hear an idea put forward last night, sir," replied Lobbitt. " That was at the public house up the road where I very occasionally look in. There's a. lot of talkers there that settle the affairs of the Kingdom every night, so to _ speak, and they've got a notion of their own about this affair. 'They say that the woman never was murdered! They say she fell out of a car and broke her neck, and was carried into the wood and left there." " What about tho robbery of her valuables?" suggested Gray. " Ah—this lot, sir, say that Ayrton did that!" answered Lobbitt. "Came across her dead body, took what he could find, and hid some of the things wheto they were afterwards found." " Oh, they consider Ayrton guilty of that much, eh ?" said Gray. " But not of tho murder." " That's it, sir—guilty of robbing the woman when dead, but not of murdering her," replied Lobbitt.. "Of course, in my opinion, gentlemen, there's nothing at all in that theory, because this lane, as you know, goes no further than the gates of Mallaford Court, and the. turning into the high road being three hundred yards off, it's not likely that anybody would carry a dead body from the high road to the wood, or would even turn up tho lane to deposit it in the wood. No—that's all silly talk, in my opinion—but I have heard talk of something else that seems to me to be of what 1 should call a much more serious complexion. Thcro are a few people about here, gentlemen, who have been asking this: ' Who's that stranger who camo to Mallaford Court a few days after the murder and has been there ever since, unless he's left within this last day or two? I can't put a name to him, for I've never heard on© given him." " But—why should anybody be inquisitive about him ?" asked Gray. " Probably he's a friend of Mr. Mallaford." " Just so, sir—but you see there were queer circumstances about the arrival of that gentleman at ■ the Court," replied Lobbitt. " They were talked about—they got out, of course, through the servants. That gentlemen, it appears, came to the house one afternoon in what you might call a bit down-at-tlie-heel stylo. Shabbygenteel, gentleman—that's how he's been described to me. Patched shoes—wellworn clothes—you know tho style, gentlemen. Well, what happens ? Mr. Mallaford evidently welcomes him with open arms, and keeps him, not only to dinner, but, it would appear, for as long as he liked to stop! It's lucky for this gentleman that Mr. Mallaford and ho were of a size, for Mr. Mallaford gives him the run of his wardrobe, and that first night he's there, he's wearing evening clothes —Mr. Mallaford's—and next day he shows himself at the police court in a swell suit—Mr. Mallaford's. And people want to know —who is he ?" " They want to connect his coming with the murder—is that it?" asked Grav.

They want to know who he is and what he's doing here, sir," replied Lobbitt. " They say that it's a queer thing he should arrive just at that time. And they've their own ideas. Some of 'em say that ho knows something, and that Mr. Mallaford has had to square him. But some others, extra clever ones, you know, gentlemen, declare that they know well enougli what he is!" ".Well?" asked Gray, as Lobbitt paused and laughed. " But do they say what he is?"

" Yes, sir—some of 'em," replied Lobbitt. "They say he's a detective! That's because he's been seen about a good bit, looking about him. And to be sure he is a mysterious gentleman. And my wife has a niece in service there at Mallaford Court, parlourmaid the girl is, and that girl, gentlemen, doesn't even know this gentleman's name—never heard it spoken ! '1 hat beats me gentlemen." " Seems odd, certainly," remarked Gray. He strolled away, and presently 1 followed him to another part of the garden. "I say!" ho said as I came up to his side. " Did you hear that, Leicester ? Mrs. Lobbitt's niece is a parlourmaid at tho Court?"

" Yes," I said. " I know that. Pretty girl—Peggie Flint. What of that?" " T wish we could get hold of her," he said. " A little inside information—eh ?"

" I shouldn't like (o suggest it," said T. ."Mrs. Lobbitt is not quite so talkative as her husband—she's got very strict and proper ideas, and the notion of getting things out of her niece about her niece's employer wouldn't commend itself to her at all. Besides that, from what little I've seen of Peggie Flint. I should say she's nofc the sort, to gossip about her master's family affairs—a very well brought-up young woman, is Peggie!" "Oh, well!" he sighed. "Even a few words might be useful. Servants see and hear a great deal, you know. If we could have got hold of this girl—" We were to get hold of her, and of certain information through her. But the thing arose through Mrs. Lobbitt, herself. She came into the parlour that night, with an air of secrecy and mystery, concentrated in a warning look on mo. " You've been talking to Lobbitt, sir, about the affair of the poor woman that you found dead in the wood." she said. " Well, sir, there's a matter that I should liko to mention —in confidence!" (To be continued on Saturday next.)