MR. CORONER PRESIDES

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIX, Issue 21327, 31 October 1932, Page 14

MR. CORONER PRESIDES

A Novel by SELDON TRUSS

CHAPTER XlX—(Continued) Well, Henry? " Shane prompted, reseating himself. " You have seen Dr. Rivington ? " " No, sir, not a sign." " You called at the surgery ? " " Yes, sir. They know nothing about him." "A nico blank wall! What else?" " You ordered me to keep an eye on that Marvin, sir." Shane nodded. The constable proceeded, solemnly important. " I discovered that Marvin has designs on Mr. Evan Bentley, sir." " Designs on Mr. Bentley! What the deuce do you mean ? " the detective ejaculated. Tho constable cleared his throat with satisfaction at tho effect of his pronouncement and, producing his pocketbook, spun the pages. "At 8.30 this evening, sir, Marvin proceeded on a bicycle toward Chantrey Lodgo, Mr. Bentley's house, and I followed him on another machine. Just short of tho entrance gate ho concealed his bicycle in tho hedge and approached tho house by way of the shrubbery alongside tho drive. According to orders, I followed —on tho opposite side of tho drive. First, he peered in tho 'library window, then the dining room, and, after working all round tho house, the drawing room. It was still twilight and fk> curtains had not been drawn, but I" 0 lights were on in the drawing and Miss Celia Ijorrest was standing tfierc, in conversation with a man who had his back "to tho window—a shabby-dressed, middle-aged man, and au o <ftl sort of character to bo seen in pretty drawing room, sir. I tried h4rd to get a glimpse of his face, but he never turned round, 110 kept talking to that young lady, talking earnestly, as if he was trying to persuade her to something, and she kept shaking her head in a puzzled sort of way. At last ho shrugged his shoulders as if ho found it hopeless and went out, not through the room door as you'd expect, but by way of tho conservatory which leads through to tho garden at tho back. I had half a mind to go round tho house after him, but Marvin was my orders and I stuck to him."

Sergeant Henry paused. " There was one thing I noticed about this chap.- He walked with a painful limp. It would help to identify him later, I decided, and that made it let him go for tho present. Well, sir, after this man had gone tho young lady dropped into a chair and stared in front of her, looking about as unhappy as it is possible for a young lady to look."

The assistant-commissioner and Shane exchanged quick glances. " Go on, Henry." " Marvin seemed mightily interested in Miss Forrest and stood outside that window eyeing her for minutes on end. Presently a car turned into the drive and Marvin ducked quickly out of sight. I thought it best to do likewise, sir, in the circumstances, considering it was Mr. Bentley coming back and I wasn't sure you'd want explanations about Marvin yet awhile." Shane nodded. " Quite light, Henry." " Well, sir, Mr. Bentley left his car outside instead of garaging it, and apparently Marvin was now more interested in Mr. Bentley than the young lady, because he settled himself down to wait. After about ten minutes Mr. Bentley camo out again, looking as cross as two sticks, and got back into his car. That was the signal for Marvin to dodge through the shrubbery as fast as he could to the road. It was dark and raining by that time, and I was hard put to it to keep pace with him from my ?ide, and when 1 got out Marvin was nowhere to be seen. At that moment Mr. Bentley drove through the gateway, spotted me with his headlights, and pulled up. " I was surprised at his recognising me, because he couldn't have seen me more than once—in that crowd at the inquest, sir, but lie wished me ' good-evening,' in a casual sort of way, and asked if any new developments had occurred. I told him no. Then he asked where you was, sir. Back at the Yard, I told him. Maybe you'd be in Mallingridge in the morning, maybe not. Well, he just nodded and went on, taking the Appington road. A couple of seconds later Marvin popped out of the hedge with his bicycle and was after that car, at top speed. " It was all I could do to keep Marvin in sight, and of course he lost the car, quick enough. But straight to Appington lie went, and when we got there Mr. Bentley was coming out of the station garage where he'd put the car. I found that the next train was the 9.15, a nonstop to Charing Cross, and I saw Marvin take a ticket. It was still darker by then and he was easily able to keep out of Mr. Bentlev's sight, but he couldn't keep out of mine. I took a ticket myself and when the train came I just waited to see Mr. Bentley enter a first-class smoker, and Marvin a third-class in the same coach before I hopped in. All the way to London [ kept sticking my head out of the window wondering whether Marvin meant to attack Mr. Bentley by way of the footboard, it being a non-corridor train, but nothing happened until Charing Cross, and then it began to get interesting, sir. " Firstly, Mr. Bentley was met by a. lady with a private car, As they drove off Marvin hailed a taxi and was off in pursuit. I was third, with another taxi. It's a real dirty night outside sir, now, as I daresay you know, and raining in torrents, and unfortunately my man wasn't smart enough out of the station yard, so that all I was prepared to swear to was that tlie leading car turned left toward Trafalgar Square with as far as I knew, Marvin as well. So I told my man to drive down Whitehall and drop ine outside here, meaning to report such as I could. Only just as I was turning into the yard I saw Marvin again, this time on foot, skulking back into the shadow of a, doorway. It was the purest chance that I did sec him because in that downpour and general darkness it was a hundred to one nobody would notice him. I walked on past him, and turned and walked past again. The third time I turned I got a rare surprise." Sergeant Henry faced the detective. " Do you remember that chap we pulled in for murder years ago. A gipsy camp affair, sir, and we couldn't get his namo out of him—"

Shane uttered a gasp, and the Assis tant-Commissioner leant forward, startled "Good Lord! Number 108!"

" That's it, sir. I saw him coming toward me. And he was the man I'd seen with Miss Forrest!"

The detective and his superior exchanged another glance. " This is certainly interesting," Shane observed grimly. " Sure you weren't mistaken, ITenry?"

" Quito sure, sir. I saw him clear enough under a street lamp. A distinctivelooking chap in spite of the shabby clothes. Ho was limping rather more badly and apparently making for here." The Assistant-Commissioner whistled softly. "The deuce lie was!"

" After that, sir, things happened so quickly that I'll own I lost my balance, so to speak. Marvin started to move forward toward this Number 108, who swung round with a jumpy sort of start. At that moment a closed car swooped up to tho kerb, skidding like mad, and a couple of men, big hefty fellows got out of it. One of them sent Marvin flying with a punch that might have broken his jaw, the other floored 108 with a life preserver. T blew my whistle and started to ran for 'em. but before I was within half a dozen yards they'd picked up 108, flung him into the car, and ir. half a second they'd gone. In another half second Marvin was logging it for all he was worth." " You let him go!" Shane snapped. "I did, sir. We can pull him in any time. Two constables answered my whistle, but I called 'em off, came straight inside, and 'phoned all stations on to that car." "You got the number?"

" No, sir. Number plate had been obscured with a bit of rag. A description was all I could do. Six-cylinder Buick; dark blue or black."

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The detective grunted disgustedly. " Plenty of tho.so about, lie said xou warned all tho stations to bring in dumber 108. I bopo ?" <( ■ Sergeant Henry nodded. 1 J°: sfc l J lO time about it, sir. We have bis ollicial decription here, of course." " Right. Start getting Marvin at once! "Very good, sir." Sergeant Ilcnrv stiffened to attention, turned and left the room. The, Assistant-Commissioner glanced at his watch. " These late sittings play the deuce with my constitution," ho observed with a wry smile. Rising, lie drew on his overcoat. " Call me up at my bouse if anything happens before morning." " Right, sir. I don't anticipate the need for that." Shane rubbed his nose thoughtfully. " Henry's a good man but lie lost a wonderful opportunity this evening—' 110 stopped short, interrupted by the sharp summons of the. telephone bell on tlio Assistant-Commissioner's desk. '1 hat ollicial picked up the instrument, listened for an instant and handed it across. "Call for Inspector Shane," lie said. " Wapping station." "Hullo 1 " Shane barked. " Station sergeant—Wapping, foir." " Right." " Wo received a call to look out for exconvict described as Number 108, sir. Have to report that this nian has been found —" " Smart work! Where was be?" " In the river, sir. Drowned."

CHAPTER XX VOTARY All that restless night the forces of evil had conspired together, whispering across tho roof tops. And some of tho whispers had penetrated through slate and rafter and ceiling to murmur their messago of fear into ears that could not be deaf, conjuring dreadful visions beforo eyes that,could not bo blind. . . . For hours Celia had lain awake, turning restlessly from side to side. With tho taking of her life's crucial decision she had imagined tranquility would come —that in self-abnegation, at least, she would find happiness. But always there was something—an intangible, formless something, that hovered in the background, mocking her hopes, deriding her faith. And at each effort of her troubled mind to dwell on tlio picture of Evan Bentley as her chivalrous protector, that picture would metamorphose grotesquely into a leering travesty of the man' as she knew him.

It was another face, tho keen young face of Tony Rivington, that persisted in returning again and again to disturb her peace. She could not rid herself of the idea —an absurd, yet ever-growing conviction—that some peril threatened Tony Rivington—peril for which she alone was responsible. He kept gazing at her with desperate anxiety in those vision eyes of his. But every time he made a move toward her an unseen hand intervened to drag him back, and once again that travesty of Evan Bentley's features would be thrust forward. . . .

With a sigh, Celia sat up and switched on the bedside lamp, reaching for a book to distract her mind, since sleep was to be impossible. She was startled by a gentle click at the door, and the door began to open. It was the Minx standing there. " My dear! How you frightened me! " " May I come in, Celia. I couldn't sleep." Tile child closed the door and ran forward. " I just couldn't sleep. I—l loathe this house! " " Hush, dear. That's not very generous, considering what we owe! " The Minx perched herself at the foot of Celia's bed and shook her yellow curls defiantly. "I don't care! T can't care! I wish we'd never come. We were happy enough before, and now—" she broke off, almost with a sob—" everything's beastly! " Celia gazed at the Minx steadily. Despite her own depression she was resolved to check this childish, blind resenlfuiness. " It is ridiculous to talk like that," she said, "and unkind, too. You have everything you want, and Mr. Bentley has been very good to us both." " I hate liim ! " " Minx! "

" I do! 1 do! I think he's horrible! The very idea of your marrying him makes me sick! " The Minx clenched her small fists in an effort to keep back tears. " For pity's sake, Celia darling, say you aren't going to marry him."

The child's intensity was so real, so acute that the elder girl's first retort died away on her lips. "Minx, darling, you don't understand. If you understood, perhaps you would be a little bit—grateful." " Oh, I suppose it's his money." The small pair of shoulders shrugged disdainfully. " I don't want his beastly money. So if you're doing this for me—" " It is nothing 1o do with money," Celia answered coldly. " It is something I cannot ever tell you—something you'll never know, except this: Wo both owe to Mr. Bentley the whole of our future happiness." The Minx pouted her lips obstinately, then said, in slow deliberation:

" Dr. Rivington says Mr. Bentley's a crook."

Celia uttered a gasp, and then broke into a laugh of merriment. "What ridiculous rubbish! Dr. Rivington must bo mad, or—or —" she coloured slightly and was silent. The child nodded quickly. " Yes. He is jealous. I'm sure of it." "Don't bo absurd!" Celia exclaimed sharply, but the colour in her face mounted still higher. " Dr. Rivington is a foolish young man." " I like him," announced the Minx calmly, " and he likes you. I'm not sure, but I think he's in love with you. I'll ask him —" " Minx! If you dare! " "And if he is I'll tell him to cpme and see you, and p'raps he'll stop you marrying Mr. Bentley." " That -will do," Celia interrupted scornfully. "And since you seem so interested I may tell you that yesterday L)r. Rivington cut me! " " I don't believe it." " That doesn't make any difference." " Well, if lie did, he had a good reason for it. 1 expect you were with Mr. Bentley. One day you'll be sorry you didn't listen to me. When Mr. Bentley is handcuffed and taken away in a Black Maria, then you'll bo sorry, and it'll be too late." Celia lay back on licr pillow, between despair and laughter. "You little idiot! This comes of all those horrible thrillers you read." Suddenly tho Minx turned her head away. Her shoulders were trembling slightly. " Minx! " The shoulders heaved. " Oh, what's the good —I'd better go back to my room." Celia leant forward and took one of the small hands. " Minx, dear, don't do that. I'm sorry if I've been unkind. But yoifro mistaken. Dreadfully mistaken. Darling, conic close to me." She pulled gently at the hand, and in a moment, the child, shaking with sobs, was in her arms. "Oh, it's hateful! Hateful! Why can't we go away—go back to our own home—we were happy there—" Celia held her tight, in silence. "Celia, don't marry him!" " Darling, I must." " Then wait—promise you'll wait. Not yet, Celia. Please not yet!" But Celia was silent. The Minx thrust her away, and met her eyes. " You've promised him," she said, in a low voice; " 1 can see it in your eyes. You've promised him. Tell me when you are going to marry him." It was impossible to meet those clear, gentian-blue eyes with that answer. Celia lowered her gaze as she strove to keep her voice calm and matter-of-fact. " Mr. Bentley is getting a special licence," she said. " I am going to marry him to-morrow." (To b« continued daily)