CRUMPLED LILIES

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXX, Issue 21687, 30 December 1933, Page 9 (Supplement)

CRUMPLED LILIES

A CAPTIVATING SERIAL

CHAPTER IV.—(Continued)

" I did not even hint at what you said. You see, no good can come of it now. Bonnie's gone, and if he had a secret it's better it should go with him. But Wallington is my friend. If he were yours, what would you do?" " Put him wise," he said.

" To do that you would have to be sure of your facts. You know friendship may bo strained too far. Is it necessary for mo to assure you of my respect for your confidence?".

" Not at all, niv dear fellow; but you see, it's easy enough to suspect, but deuced difficult at times to produce proofs. Though we were good ftionds, Ronnie never really confided in me. All tho same, I go about with my eyes open."

" Quite so." Personally, I thought they were dull eyes. But in this case we want something more than suspicion." " All tho same," said he, " if Wallington were my friend, I would drop a hint for him to watch his step." " Provided I can produco a reason for tho warning, and I know of none. Tho fact that this girl and Ronnie were friends does not seem to me sufficient."

" There are other things," he hinted darkly. " For example ?" "As I said before, Ronnie Pellew was not in a position to afford such luxuries." " Yet, apparently, he indulged in them." " That's the mystery," he said. " You rule out love."

He laughed. " Love and Teddio Millmead! That's a good one." " You think the two don't run together?" He smiled odiously. "But why shouldn't they?" " When you come to think of it, why shouldn't they?" he repeated. " But you don't think it likely P" " Not in her case."

The man's method of evasion was beginning to rasp my nerves. It was also becoming clear that whatever charges he might prefer against Miss Millmead were chiefly based on hearsay. Yet that he had learned something, if only by innuendo, was equally clear. But he was one of those persons extremely difficult to drive into a corner. Without definitely committing himself, he would have you credit him with a reserved fund of information which might prove invaluable, but which from motives of policy he preferred to keep secret. I began another tack. " You appeared surprised to see mo last night." " Well, you're not exactly what I would call a night-bird." " I found it rather interesting." " It is, if you can stick it. By the way, what did you think of Mr. Paul Stamnos?" He put the question with a curious look and still more curious smile.

Now this was the very question I wanted, the particular point to which 1 was driving. " He seemed a jolly sort of chap. Who is lie, anyway?" I asked casually. " Nobody knows." " Is lie what you would call a nightbird?" " Upon occasion," he answered, still with that suggestion of knowing more than he cared to say. " Mrs. Bannerton told me ho was a Greek," I announced boldly. " She ought to know." I made light of the answer, purposely omitting to ask why she should. " What a chap you are, Torborough. You grow more mysterious every moment." "Oh, well," he said, " you never know where you arc, do you?" " And more cryptic," 1 added. " There may bo a meaning, Gantian, which I dare say you will be able to unravel in your own inimitable manner." " You think it may be worth unravelling?" " That all depends on the point of view, and the issues involved."

" Excellent," .1 said, " but still oracular. Well, Wil'll see. Hope I haven't bored you." " Not at all, my dear chap. Pleased to be of service."

Though i thought the service slight, and extremely shadowy, I yet perceived through the mist in which he seemed purposely to involve himself one or two gleams of light. The Crumpled Lily and her friend were evidently suspect, and Mr. Paul Stainnos was something of a mystery. What then was the connection between thoso charming ladies and the not too-cliarming Greek? "Uncle Basil," Mrs. Bannerton had called him, by which token a certain familiarity was made clear. A most unprepossessing uncle if ever there was one, who, unless I was greatly mistaken, hailed from that obscure strip of country along the Levant. Torborough questioned me with his largo melancholy eyes and tweaked his long noso as if in anticipation of a further confidence. But upon occasion J. could be as reticent as he, and in tho end we parted thoroughly dissatisfied with eacli other. Yet slight as was the information I had been able to gather, it was enough to make 1110 eager for more. Clearly all was not well here and abovo board. Though I could see that he W'as unwilling definitely to commit himself, 110 managed to impress 1110 with a significance of the situation which I could not ignore, and which 1 had no intention of ignoring. CHAPTER V MAUNKA On arriving at my rooms in Cork Street I was rather surprised to learn that Wally had not rung up, and yet not sorry. It would give me time to think out tho situation. How precisely to act in the circumstances was a problem I had 110 immediate desire to tackle, though knowing that it was ono that could not be avoided. To presume, on no better evidence than Torborough's veiled insinuations, that Toddie Milmead was a designing hussy, was not to bo thought of. If I were to do such a thing Wally would never forgive me, and I should never forgive myself. I did not know for certain that she was the " unscrupulous woman " of the Pellew tragedy; I did not know for certain anything to her discredit. And after all, even presuming the worst, Wallington was old enough and experienced enough to look after himself. It would need, I thought, a very smart girl to make a fool of him. Ringing through to Mayford, I reported tho meagre result of my interview with Lord Somersham. I am afraid ho was not much affected by the tragedy or its possible reactions. To him it would appear not even a police job. Young fellows were always playing the fool and. paying for it, though probably not always quite so heavily. He was one of those men who have no patience with the weak or the wicked. Arguments in favour of heredity, nature's mistakes, and so forth, left

By CARLTON DA WE Author of " Leathermouth," "The Desirable Woman," "Fifteen Key»," etc.

(COPYRIGHT)

him cold; ho designated them as so much " bunk." Peoplo who cultivated their pleasant vices to the full, and then bleated of their impotence ngainst fnte, were anathema to him. Tho man who would not impose a check on his evil propensities was a fit subject for punishment. That he eventually got it was in the natural order of things. However, he promised to do all lie could to spare Lord Somersham's dignity and feelings. " And now," said he. " that business being finished, 1 should like to talk to you about something else." "Bat it's not by any means finished," I reminded him, " and I don't want to talk about anything else." "Not even about Malinka?" ho asked in that provocative way of his. "Malinka!" I echoed, frankly astonished.

" Ah," he gurgled, " 1 thought that would interest you. Buzz round and I'll read the latest bulletin." Malinka! Here was an echo out of the past, and not an agreeable one. Joseph Malinka, for such I had known him, was one of those nondescript internationals who seem to have no particular country of their own, or if have prefer almost any other to the land of their birth. At various times ho had been described as an Armenian, a Circassian, an Italian, a Russian from the Caucasus, and heaven only knows from what other part of the world. But of one thing there was no doubt: ho was a born political intriguer, a stormy petrel whoso appearance in any community presaged trouble. During my journey through Anatolia, I had been considerably impeded by his activities and had escaped some dangerous situations which be had engineered for my especial benefit. Those were tlio days before Mustapha Kemal turned and drovo the Greeks before himi; when the inner circles of political Ti/nglanu waited nervously for the cat to jump; whon the fate 'of Constantinople hung in the balance and a fierce conflagration seemed imminent in the Noar East; when tho mutual jealousies of two great Powers prevented concerted action and so enabled the Turk to escape from what many peoplo considered to be his just and inevitable doom. Before setting out I had been warned of this Malinka, who was then officially described as an Armenian, and of the obstacles likely to be encountered; and though I never came in actual personal contact with the man, I experienced enough of his activities, through his agents, to realise that I had beep extremely fortunate in outwitting him. If half the stories told of him were true he was the sort of person to whom discretion would unhesiatingly concede the right of way. ■ , , But I was under the impression that } lO was dead, that he had died suddenly in Russia —in the Russian manner. And now here was George Mayford talking of him, and hinting of information which set me all agog. Without wasting time I went round to his office.' Malinka, alive; might even be in London! if this were so, and he had not forgotten old scores (which I conceived to be unlikely) there might be trouble enough coming to please even the doughty Albert Floyd. , j I found George, like a big red god, reposing as usual in a cloud of smoke. As a rule the gods repose on clouds, but George was much too heavy for such a performance. He grinned at me through the poisonous atmosphere, and actually offered me one of his execrable weeds. 1 disdained even to notice this clumsy facetiousness. " What's this about Malinka?" I began. • " From certain information — " I know —the usual ' unimpeachable source.' But the fellow's dead." " Ought to be," he corrected, ' like many others of our acquaintance. Unfortunately he appears to be very much alive." "Is this another instance of that ' unimpeachable source ' which supplied you with your previous facts?" "To tell you the truth," he admitted, " I don't know that he's dead and 1 don't know that he's alive." " Don't seem to know much, do

you?" ~ " Only this, that such a man would be more useful to the Soviet alive than dead." " ]n the Far East, perhaps. " And perhaps nearer home," he said. . " You are assuming that he is now working for tho Soviet?" " Exactly." }j " But you have no proof." ' "No." " Well, what of it? He would never be able to slip through your perfect organisation and enter this country." " While admitting our perfection,' he smiled, " 1 still realise our human frailty—and the ingenuity of our enemies." " You mean he's slipped in already i " For all I know to the contrary he may bo in London at this moment." " But surely the Soviet must realise by this time that England is the last country in Europe—" "lb is not their business, or their policy, to realise anything of the kind," lie interrupted, " and a man who is paid well to do a job is not likely to descry it. I admit the lookout for him is not promising. If tho Russians could play cricket or football we might take them seriously, but to send a team of revolutionaries on tour with any hope of success is the very height of optimism. At the same time, there ore undercurrents of discontent even in the bestgoverned communities." " That end of the business may safely be left in your hands." " Our police are very excellent fellows," he replied, " and as you know," he added with a grin, "as near to perfection as anything human can be. But they have their limitations, and knowledge of the enemy's secret intentions is one of them." " And all this is apropos of—" " 1 was thinking of one Leathermouth." ho said. " Assuming that our friend Malinka is in England, ho might like to have a word or two with that porson—on the quiet. You two must have a lot in common. If ho should prove scrupulous in the matter of discharging his debts he might make a serious effort to find you." " Then you really have good reason to believe that he may be in England?" "" Not good, but in a way sufficient. As you know we last heard of him in Moscow. He next appeared in Finland. After that he was traced to Stockholm. Onr agent there reports that he suddenly disappeared from the Swedish capital. It is believed that he was seen in Gothenburg. From there it might not be difficult to enter one of our northern ports." " But since we have resumed diplomatic relations with Bussia, why the necessity of all this wriggling?" "Exactly—why? Which makes me think that his visit may have a personal i as well as a diplomatic motive. Un- I less I misjudge him, as well as human nature, (especially that human nature of the crossbreed type) he appears to be the sort of man who would like to get a bit back 011 you. Of course, we can watch the political side; but it's the private, or the secret side, that it might be as well for you to look after. And don't forget Wallington is in this with you. By the way, what's become of him? He hasn't been near me for ages, though 1 know bo's in town." " Well,?' said I, not wishing to volunteer certain information, "you know what he is." He shook his head. Everybody knew what he was: a young fellow with money to burn, and a remarkable propensity for burning it. (To be continued daily)