THE INNOCENT IMPOSTOR
CHAPTICR XII Myrtle Simpson was not the kind of girl to sit down lightly under lier captivity doing nothing. Her grandfather had fought his way from extreme poverty to riches, her father had added to the family fortunes. (Jp till now .Myrtle had not needed to fight for anything; life had been too impossibly easy for her, but now that the necessity arose, she had plently of courage and resource. First she tried her hand on the anaemic Mrs. Basset without any noticeable success. The woman seemed to be in a permanent state of extreme terror. If only I could get her alone for once in a while, she thought, 1 might do something with her, but she's terrified of that brute of a husband of hers and he, in his turn, is terrified of Leverson. I suppose it's a case of blackmail. Waal, 1 guess I'll have to think of something else Once more she dragged her chair to her bedroom window and surveyed the uninspiring landscape below. By dint of wriggling and craning her neck, she managed to see that at the bottom of the well-like courtyard, there was no sign of habitation other than a.dustbin or two. "Well 1 guess someone's bound to shoot their rubbish there some time," she muttered, "so what about dropping them a note? f suppose those bins must he emptied some time or other." Such things as dustbins had been out of her hen before now. Small domestic details of an unpleasant nature had been carefully hidden from her eyes, but now she found herself to havo a passionate interest in dustbins. Then she discovered that her bag had been rifled and a small stub of pencil had been taken from it, also the letters and papers he had contained. "Well, what do you know about that?" she asked herself in annoyance. I suppose the rabbit was told to do that!" "Tho rabbit" evidently did not suffer from over-imagination, for while she had obediently removed tho offending articles, sho had left sheets and sheets of tissue paper, in which Myrtle's dresses had been packed, in tho chest of drawers in the corner. But a pencil! How could sho write a letter without a pencil or pen? Ah!—she had it! A lipstick! Sho would sharpen hers on the edge of the chest of drawers and use that. "Gee! —it looks as if it's written in blood!" sho said. "I'm afraid they'll think it's a hoax —some kid has been playing!" But she could not afford to sit idle. Sho scrawled in brilliant scarlet on the flimsy paper, "I am being kept here against my will, on the top storey. My name is Myrtle Simpson. I will inako it worth your while to take this paper to the nearest police station." She folded the huge sheet several times, leaving tho message on top, then sho pinned a heavy diamond brooch that sho wore in her hat to the corner of the paper to serve as a weight, and, mounting her chair, held the precious missive as far out as sho could, and dropped it. Her cheeks flushed. A sense of triumph came to her. "I 11 show them! sho said. "Keep me prisoner—l'd like to see them!" But her triumph was short-lived. Two hours later there came a thundering knock on the door. "1 want to speak to you at otico!" Joseph Leverson said, and opened tho door. He held tho paper in his hand Ho was wliito with rage. "Watcher mean by this." ho demanded.
She faced him defiantly. ''You've taken me prisoner. It' you think I'm going to sit down and do nothing, you've gotta think again!" "Think yourself durned clever, eh, That batty little Russian dancer picked it up just now when he went to shoot his tea-leaves." He laughed scornfully. 'He would drink tea! He came up here to ask if there was anythin' wrong." Myrtle could have cried with fury at the stupidity of the man, but she did not give Leverson the satisfaction of letting him see her chagrin. "Ain't that just too bad!" she drawled, "Guess 1 was born under an unlucky planet." Joseph Leverson had had a fright. He had not found it too easy to satisfy the Russian gentleman, but he flattered himself that he had succeeded in the end. "Look here!—it's about time you realised that this ain't a joke!" "I realised that long ago." she said. "Your sense of humour is far from strong, 1 admit, but even you could not call this kinda thing funny 1" Her scorn roused his fury still further. "You can laugh! —but you just wait!" Then his tone suddenly changed. Why don't you give in? You've only got to say tlio word and you'd be free in a minute. You wouldn't havo such a bad time as my wife." "I'd rather marry the devil himself!" she said. "How dare j'ou keep me a prisoner here? Hut don't you imagine for one moment that you're going to get away with it! I'll bo quits with you and your brother if it costs me my last cent!" "Don't get talkin' so big I" he snarled. "Jf you'ro p;oin' to cut up rough, two can play that game, and at the moment 1 hold all the cards!" "Oh, yeah?" she drawled. "1 tell you this —that I won't rest till I've wiped up you and your gang." "Gang! Watcher mean?" he asked. "The other day you said you would put mo on the spot," sho reminded him. "That gave you away, and I guess you and your brother, for all vour tony airs in Franco, are nothing more nor less than a couplo of common gangsters!" "You've had five days of this. You wait till you've had fifty!" ho said. "You'll sing a different toon!" He went out soon after that, and Myrtle was left to her thoughts. "What a fool that Russian must be!" sho told herself. "And yet, perhaps he'll think things over and do a bit of investigating on his own account —who knows? And now —what next?" Sho thought out all kinds of impossible schemes. Supposing sho pretended to give way, and consented to the marriage. Then, when sho arrived at the registrar's sho could throw herself on his protection. But that was too risky; sho did not like Leverson's habit of Carrying loaded guns. Then hope leaped up in her heart. For the first timo she was ieft in the Hat with Mrs. Bassett; now perhaps sho would be able to escape. The woman was busy in the kitchen, Myrtle went to the outer door, but it was locked on the outsi(Jo. Sho tried to force the door, but it was useless. Perhaps sho could persuade Mrs. Bassett to help her; the woman was a poor kind of creature, and if it came to a tussle of wills, Myrtle had no doubt who would bo the winner. The telephone! Why hadn't she thought of that before! Sho went to the door of Leverson's bedroom, inside which the telephone was installed, but again she was defeated, the door was locked. Then sho went along to the kitchen. "Mrs. Bassett, put down that rollingpin and listen to me Would you like to havo twently thousand dollars?"
By D. B. UPSON Author of "The Sacred Flame." "The Return of Marcus wraync
f COPY RIGHT)
AMAZING STORY OF INTRIGUE, LOVE AND ADVENTURE
"Oh, yeah!" the woman jeered. "Well, you can have that much if you'll give me a pen and ink and soino paper, and an envelope, and post a letter for me." "f dursn't," tho woman said. Sho looked fearfully over her shoulder. "They'd kill me—they said they would if I helped you." "They needn't know," Myrtle coaxed. "I'd never split on you, and I'd see you have protection, once I'm free myself." But the woman shook her head. Myrtle could not shako her resolution, but she saw that the woman was beginning to waver. "In time I'll get her—l'll write a letter to tho American Ambassador and to Lord Fairhaven." The trouble was that she did not know either address —but if sho directed the latter to the House of Lords she knew he would get it. "Well, if you can't let me have somo note-paper, let me at least have a look at tho newspaper. I'll pay you twenty dollars for the loan of it —I'll put away tho moment they return.' Tho woman saw no harm in this simple request. "Wait —I'll be back in a minute," Myrtle said. She had suddenly thought that she would try another letter to tho Russian dancer. There would be no harm. He might find it and become convinced that there was something wrong after ail. Again sho used her lipstick. "Why did you not go to the police as I asked you ? Do so now, I beg. I'm a prisoner against my will, Myrtle Simpson," she scribbled. This time sho twisted some money in the corner of tho paper to act as a weight. Then she came back to tho kitchen. She knew that Mrs. Bassett was ruled by fear; if she could get her used to tiie idea of helping her in small ways without any evil consequences, tho woman might become bolder in time. The newspaper was not important to Myrtle, but it would get the woman used to ,tho idea of defying Leverson. Sho produced the 20 dollars, but tho woman hesitated about taking it. "I don't like to take it, miss. I reckon it's cruel, you being shut up here like this. Bassett don't like it either, but wo dursn't say anything." "That's cheerful news," Myrtle thought. "With any luck I may be ablo to win over Bassett too." She spread tho paper out on tho kitchen table and read the news with interest. Then she came to the gossip column written by a semi-embecile of a woman, and a paragraph caught Myrtle's eyes: "My dear, I had terrific luck last night, I saw the famous and elusive American heiress —diamonds and chinchilla and orchids complete—at tho dinner party given bv the Duchess of Dunton. Miss Myrtle Simpson is indeed lovely, and Lord Fairhaven, who took her in to dinner, seemed to bo very interested. It is rumoured that he met her on tho Riviera." Myrtle eotild hardlv believe her eves! M iss Myrtle Simpson, tho American heiress —Lord Fairhaven t "What on earth does this mean?" she demanded of tho astonished woman, who read tho paragraph with staring eyes. " I don't know, no more than the man in the moon!" Then Myrtle rcmembersd how unperturbed Leverson had been when sho had gaid that the newspaper men would note her absence. They had put someone else in her places—an imposter! "I'll get even with her, and as for Lord Fairhaven—" Sho laughed aloud, but there was no mirth in her laughter. Truth to tell she felt more like crying. "Love! He said ho loved me! And yet he didn't recognise this girl as an imposter!" She flung the paper down on the table and ran into her bedroom and locked herself in. She paced up and down the room. If only she could escape she would havo her. revenge on the whole gang ot them —tho Leversons, and the girl who was posing as her. And as for Lord Fairhaven — CHAPTER XIII. The night after the Duchess of Dunton's party Cora announced that she would sta> at home and have dinner in her own private dining room. "I found it a bit of a strain, last night," she explained to like a quite evening, if you don't mind." Ho consented, and Miss Webb reminded him of his promise to take her out to dinner one night. "Miss Simpson is not going out to-night. Why not make tho best of our opportunity?" she suggested. Much against his will Leverson consented. Ho did not like tho idea of leaving Cora alone with Wendell, who was young and not bad looking, and who had had a college education. Cora was becoming an obsession with Frank Leverson. He could hardly bear to have her out of his sight. "And we'll go to a theatre," Miss Webb said. "No wo won't!" ho growled, but she had her way in the end. Cora was relieved to find that she was to dino with Wendell. She liked tho youth and could not imagine how he had come to be mixed up with the Leverson gang. He seemed to bo very solemn to-night, and at tho end of dinner asked her if he might come with her to her private sitting room for a talk. "Yes, I'll order coffee in there," sho said. "I suppose tho notable Slick is on duty?" "Yes," Wendell said. He waited until they were alone: then his manner became confidential. "Miss Simpson, I don't know your real name, so I havo to call you that—this is no place for you." Ho clasped his hands together hard. "Take my advice and clear out of it!" "I wonder if this is another try on, ' sho thought. "And yet 1 don't think so. lie's better than the Webb woman, and Leverson is too clever to try the same thing twice." "Clear out of it; why?" she asked lightly. She would wait for a while before confiding in him in her turn. "Leverson is a crook. Oh, I know 1 ought not to tell you this. It's caddish of me, 1 expect, but it would bo more caddish if J allowed you to go on thinking everything is all right." There was no doubting his genuine emotion now. "But 1 don't think everything is all right," she said quietly. "I*havo known that since the first night I" "What?" he asked, startled. , "J know that the story which they concocted to get me hero to take tho place of Myrtle Simpson is false." "Then why do you stay here?" he asked. "Oh, I suppose it is'the money." He looked disappointed in her. "No, 1 shan't take a penny piece for this business." She hesitated; should she tell him everything? "I feel l ean trust you," she said. "Miss Webb pretended to seek my friendship; she offered to help if I should be in any trouble, and suggested thero was something wrong with Leverson." "But you didn't tell her anything, did you?" he asked. There was no mistaking tho alarm in his face. "Of course not! 1 wouldn't trust her an inch —but you are different." "Thank you for saying that!" he said eagerly. "Toll me, why are you mixed up with this gang? They're not you're style at all," sho said. "Wait a minute, I'll go and see where Slick is—l don't want him listening," <To be contuiuod daily)
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZH19361002.2.179
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22539, 2 October 1936, Page 18
Word Count
2,480THE INNOCENT IMPOSTOR New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22539, 2 October 1936, Page 18
Using This Item
NZME is the copyright owner for the New Zealand Herald. You can reproduce in-copyright material from this newspaper for non-commercial use under a Creative Commons New Zealand BY-NC-SA licence . This newspaper is not available for commercial use without the consent of NZME. For advice on reproduction of out-of-copyright material from this newspaper, please refer to the Copyright guide.
Acknowledgements
This newspaper was digitised in partnership with Auckland Libraries and NZME.