HER SILENCE

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXI, Issue 21764, 2 April 1934, Page 15

HER SILENCE

By MRS. A. M. WILLIAMSON Author of "The Moat House." "Behind Double Doors !l

CHAPTER XIII.—(Con tin ucd) The youngest of them laughed. " I promised her a present from my poor old father," ho said. " She was pleased that I was willing to take her to her own homo in tho car, lator." " Where did she say her homo was:'" inquired the man with the Shakepearcan forehead. " Slio didn't say. I didn't want to ask too many questions. And I thought it was of no importance where she lived, because . . ." " You needn't explain why. We understand," he was quickly interrupted. " Still, it would be well to know. It may bo some place where Carino has put her. He has no idea, I hope, that we are in London." " He will guess, after lie reads his newspaper to-morrow morning," hinted tho young man l with a smile. The eldest of tho three smiled, too. " Carino is no early bird," ho said. " He will sing to-night; he will gup; he will be up lato, even in Bristol; and to-morrow ho will have his coflce or chocolate no earlier than ten o'clock, if then. Long before that, however, we will bo out of England. Tho whole business ought to be over —and no trace loft —in time for us to cross tho Channel on tho midnight boat. Besides, tlicro may bo nothing in the morning papers. It depends on our luck —and how smart you arc in hiding what needs to bo hidden." " Wo shall havo to bo very careful to Icavo no traces," exclaimed the man who claimed to bo Giulio di Itenzi. '' We know how to be careful," tho others spoke almost together. " The first part of tho affair in the car .',s your business," continued tho older one. " After that we act as one." Ho glanced at a thin gold watch which ho took from tho pocket of his white waistcoat. " It is not yet 8.ISO," he told tho others. " The girl won't linger over her dinner, as she might have j clone if you hadn't introduced your-j self." j "Thanks for tho compliment I" • laughed the young man. The two others didn't Ifiugh. They j stared at him gravely. " We chose you j to work with us because of your looks," 0110 of them said. " But often 1 think | you ought to bo operated on by some plastic surgeon for those ears. They are a bad fault, Giulio mio. And tho silly police of all countries have a prejudice against prominent oars. They say they show criminal tendencies." . "What an injustice!" smiled the I handsome young man. At a quarter to nine, ho ventured to ! return to the lady's table. She was | already sipping her black coffee and a ' liqueur.- She must havo hurried her | dinner, just as his friends had proplie- j sied she would do. ; " Won't you have a liqueur, Count ! GiulioY" slio asked, all sweetness. " No, thank you, 1 havo had one," | lie said. " I began dinner before you. L have said good-bye to my friends. But my father is something of an" invalid. He goes to bed early. We must get to the house before ho retires." As ho spoke, the young man was! thinking of tho chinchilla cloak. It i seemed a shame to waste it. Besides, it j was bound to make a v :ry sensational j affair for the police if found on a j corpse. But, as his friends had pointed j out, tho cloak would bo too difficult ' to dispose of afterwards—too dangerous. It must be let go! They would ! soon be out of England with the car. i If they had any luck at all they ought j to reach Dover in less than two hours. I They would travel faster than a train. | Their passports and car permit, the ! friends were always careful to keep j ready for cases of emergency. No clue j would point their way. They knew ; their business thoroughly, in all its ! branches. They could even return j safely to England whenever they j chose. " Would it be a good idea, to save j time for me to go, now and fetch the ! car from where it is parked? " Count | Giulio suggested to Leontine. " It's j not tar away, and you won't mind i walking just to the corner in the j Strand? If I bring the car to the door i of the hotel there is always delay in ! getting away again." " 1 don't mind at all," answered \ Leontine. " Start now if you like, and j I'll come along as soon as I finish this j coffee —it is so very hot!—pay my bill ! and get my change. You will be wait- j ing by that time? " "I shall be waiting by that time! " j Count Giulio gazed at her with admira- I tion which enchanted Leontine. They • would find out, probably, he and his j father, that she had played a little game with them; that she wasn't the Countess Li In Trovclli. But she could pass the trick off as a joko. She would j say she was the wife of a well-known j doctor at Golders Green; not married : long, yet already longing for a little j adventure and fun. Too bad, though, if j she had to miss the presentation neck- i lace! She would love to get that, by I hook or by crook.

Perhaps there was no fatlior in the house at Rutland Gate? Per ha [is this handsome young Italian was merely in search of ad venture just as she wasp Perhaps there was no Countess Li la Trovelli. In that ease Signer di Penzi couldn't blame her for deceiving him. Eight or ten minutes later the lady in the marvellous chinchilla, cloak moved with stateliness through the restaurant, out of the hotel and tottered in the silver slippers ( a size too small for her) as far as tho Strand. CHAPTER XIV A CUL-DE-SAC There are some little streets in Knightsbridge, dark and small and quiet as village streets. Leading oil from these there are cul-de-sacs, whose floors are open only by day and are locked at niglit. You would hardly believe that von were in London, in some of those hidden nooks of Knightsbridge which many Londoners never sec: It was not until half-past eight on tho morning after Leon tine Parley's adventure at the Savoy that a young man who bought and sold cheap antiques (or near-antiques) entered one of tho cul-de-sacs to open bis tiny shop. Hain was falling, ami a gloomy twilight prevailed. Tom Kaston almost stumbled against a recumbent liguro huddled against the shut door of tho place—a figure in a silver-grey fur cloak. At first ho thought that the woman was drunk. Nearby was a small public house, and she might have staggered out from there at closing timo last, night to seek shelter from the rain and sloop in his eul-do-sae. Kaston was a teetotaller himself, and with a sensation of disgust he shook tho woman's shoulder. "Here, wake up," he ordered angrily The face had been turned out ol sight, lying almost against, the dark, brick Willi of the shop, but with the rough shako bo gave it lolled over, so that ho saw the profile under-a soiled silver hat. " Good lord!" Kaston exclaimed, seeing a wide bulging eye and all the ghastly signs that the woman had been strangled. Ho didn't touch her again. He had read too many detective stories to make a mistake like that. Ho ran out of tho cul-de-sac, feeling greatly excited though a little sick, and hunted for a policeman. Nearly sis far as Wilton Place he had to go before be found

A GRIPPING MYSTERY SERIAL

(COPYRIGHT)

one, and then to his surprises he stammered and trembled, almost nnable to tell a coherent story. Easton began to tear that lie was making a fool of himself and might be arrested as the guilty one.

The London police are used to incoherent stories of suicide or murder from innocent persons, however; and from the moment that the dead woman in the chinchilla cloak was taken over by men from Scotland Yard there was no thought that the insignificant, thinhaired, pimpled, cockney dealer in antiques was the killer.

it was seen from the first that hero was a crime of importance; a curious affair, with two apparent clues only, and one of those diflicult to trace.

The woman was young; between twenty and thirty. Her face, which was well featured—pretty without being beautiful—had been much and not too skilfully made up. Her hair showed a dark lino at the roots and was bleached to a rich shade of golden brown. Though milled in death, perhaps after a struggle, it had been very carefully dressed. Underneath the magnificent cloak she wore a cheap dress of silver tissue, which might have been bought for three or four pounds. One of her undergarments was of the finest quality, with a monogram, " L.T." surmounted by a coronet. The others wero common in coivtrast, and the stockings, though silk, were of poor quality. Yet with these were silver slippers, uncomfortably small, which might have been made for daintier feet. Decorating the slippers were buckles of real diamonds. The silver hat must havo been expensive and looked French, but the milliner's name had been removed; as had the name of the furrier who had sold tho chinchilla cloak.

Odd that the woman should havo real diamonds on her slippers and wear on neck and arms jewellery which, though efl'ectivo at first glance, was worth only a few shillings! . . . Sho had been strangled, possibly with a man's handkerchief of a strong, though soft, quality of silk, for there was no clear mark round tho throat.

By great luck, in a pocket of the cloak's embroidered silver chiffon lining were found tho torn halves of used tickets for a box at tho new theatre at Golders Green.

The date was seven weeks ago, but it would still bo easy enough to discover there who had occupied a certain box on that night. Tho news of the murder was hours too late for tho morning papers, too lato even for tho first evening editions, but the " finals " would carry columns of it, with a full description of the victim and her remarkable cloak. Long boforo the appearances of the newspapers, however, Scotland Yard was in communication with tho fine new theatre at Golders Green. It was revealed that the date in question had been one of importance. Guido Carino, the celebrated Italian tenor, had sung " Pagliacci " there that night to a crowded house. So long a time had passed that at first it was difficult to learn what sort of person or persons had occupied that box. It had been bought, however, by tho Palace Hotel; and soon an usher remembered a very beautiful lady in a chinchilla cloak who had sat in the box alone, leaving before tho opera was over. This information led straight to the Palace Hotel, and Mr. Shelton, the assistant was able to tell the police that a Mis- Mary Brown, a guest of the hotel, bad bought the box for herself alone. Ue that the description of the corpse did not fit Miss Brown, who had been not only pretty, but a dazzling beauty. Beside, after leaving tho hotel, very ill, for a nursing home, as the patient of a local doctor, she had after a short time married tho doctor. The wedding had not been announced in the usual way, and Mr. Shelton had learned of it indirectly; but he was sure that, though the cloak might be her property, Mrs. Peter Tyrone had not been murdered. Invitations for a tea party, returning local hospitality, had been given out for that very afternoon, and a number of ladies who lived in the hotel were going. Despite all this, Mr. Shelton was asked, or ordered, to view the corpse immediately at the police morgue. He went in a distressful state of mind lest after all his protestations ho should find himself staring at the lovely dead face of his mysterious, never to be forgotten bcautv.

It was an immense relief to him, though be identified cloak, slippers and silver cap without much doubt, to sav, " No, this isn't Mrs. Tyrone. 1 was sure it, wouldn't be, and it is not. I never saw the woman. Sho may be a thief, who stole Mrs. Tyrone's things and wore them; a dishonest scr\ant pethaps." Now tho track was clear as far as the house of doctor Peter I yrone or Garden Court, Golders Green. Such an affair as a bride's first tea party to the neighbourhood offers no barrier to the police; and just as Mrs. Tyrone's smartlydressed guests were arriving in motor-cars or on foot, a man of distinctly different class rang and knocked. He was in plain clothes, with a bowler hat; had a smoothly shaven, intelligent face, and wore a pair of boots far more shiningly new that those of fiction detectives; yet flic butler knew at a glance that this person could not he one of his mistress' guests. (To be continued daily)