THE MAIN CALLED GILRAY

New Zealand Times, Volume XXXVII, Issue 8456, 16 June 1913, Page 2

THE MAIN CALLED GILRAY

By FRED M. WHITE.. Author of “ The Crimson Blind,” “ The Cardinal Moth,” “ Blackmail,” “ Craven Fortune,” “A Front of Brass,” &c., &c.

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT

[COPYRIGHT]

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

Five huudred pounds reward is offered for information leading to the arrest of the murderer of a man named John Gilray. Philip Temple is the editor of the "Southern Weekly Herald.' He has always been of great assistance to the police in finding clues, and therefore at 2 a.m. on the mornmg of the murder Inspector Sparrow telephones for him to go to the police station. The inspector tells him of the murder at Ponder avenue. They visit the house of the murdered man. A woman servant has just arrived home. They go to the study and examine the body of the murdered man. There is a pile of papers on a table, and amongst them one or two typed sheets. Sparrow suggests that Temple should examine the typed sheets very carefully with a view to finding a clue. Philip Temple, two years before, had lost the love of his life, Elsie Gordon, who, about that time, l«came Lady Silverdale. Silverdale, after marriage, found that his wife did not care for him and begun to neglect her. ‘She goes to the Duchess of Harringay’s place In Park lane. After greeting her hostess, a footman brings her a letter. It is from her blackmailer, and encloses a sheet of written letter-pajier, for which she has had to pay handsomely. She is told to leave some article of jewellery on the sun-dial, and is promised a whole letter in return. Elsie wonders why she does not tell Philip Temple, but she goes to the sun-dial and leaves her bracelet there. She turns to find herself facerl by Philip Temple. She tells him all about the blackmailing. The tragedy of Ponder Avenue makes the sensation of the hour. At the inquest the coroner finds it impossible to elicit information. Nobody knows anything of John Gilray. Philip Temple tells Inspector Sparrow chat he has wasted a whole morning on it. arid has work to do. Later, at his office he finds a strange man there rummaging among the papers on bis desk. The stranger accosts him as the editor, and asks for hts manuscript. After his departure Temple finds the manusempt and reads it through. Next morning he goes round to Sparrow and tells him he lias got a clue. CHAPTER XTV.—TTTE STORY IN THE STORY. Phil went back bo his room to dinner fairly well satisfied. He felt quire sure of the fact that ho was much further advanced than Sparrow. He had nothing definite to go upon, of course, but he was putting .a very pretty theory together. Possibly a further perusal of the story might enlighten him. He read it again with a strange feeling that it was not finished. There were gaps here and there, especially in due place, as if the writer had meant to make it longer, then changed bis mind. Clever as it wasas a Work of art it laoked balanceAt least two more chapters were needed: to make it perfect in the eyes of a good editorial critic. -. . ■ Phil pondered .'over this with a cigarette in his mouth. He gazed at the sheets with speculative eyes. A pile of ash dropped on the uppermost page, and Temple flicked it off. A tin,, fragment seemed to attach itself tu the number on the top of the folio and ho dusted it off with hia finger. It seemed to him that the paper was rather rough and uneven just there. As he made a closer examination under the brilliant rays of the electric light he smiled. “I’ve got it right,” ho muttered. 'At this point something has been left out. The chapter numbers here have been altered also. The figures have been rubbed out and retyped. There were words blocked out in the copy, too, and one of them looked like a, proper name. I’ll get a glass.” Under a strong magnifying glass tin evidence of the alteration became still more marked. Up to twenty page, there was no sign of erasure, after is every page numbered had been altered, and tbo same applied to the nu, morals at the tops of the chapters. Hero and there a name had been blotted out, and by the aid of the 'glass Phil could see that the name had been Paul Taylor. For some reason or another “Paul Taylor” had been deleted from the story entirely. “Now, I wonder where the rest of those pages have gone?” Phil asked himself. “They must have been taken out for some powerful reason. As a matter of fact, the omission has not improved the story at all—on the contrary. So clever a writer must have recognised the fact. Might it not be just possible that the deleted sheets ■were-still at Ponder avenue? Very few authors throw away matter they have written, and it’s long odds the sheets I am after have been kept to form the foundation of quite another story. I wonder if ” Phil crossed over to the telephonewith the intention of getting in touch with Sparrow. It was some little time before he did so, but he managed it at length. Sparrow was just a little dubious.

“ You want to have the key of the flat at Ponder avenue?” bo asked. “ Well. Mr Temple, you must know that the request is quite unusual.”

“So are. the circumstances,” Phil retorted. “My dear fellow, I don’t xvant to go there out of anything like idle curiosity. I ara : more or less acting with you in this matter. I’ve made what I deem to be an important discovery, and I want to verify it. X’vo picked up some evidence to-day that will fairly startle you when you hear if. old hand at the game as you are. Please don’t let any red tape stand in the way, Sparrow.” “ Well, 1 suppose you must have your own way, sir,” Sparrow said, none too eagerly. “You had better not go there in the daytime, If you’ll come round hero to-morrow afternoon I’ll let you have the key to the front door.’’ “ That’s very good of you,” Phi] said. “ By the way, when are they going to bury Gilray?” “ We haven’t fixed the funeral yet. The body is still in the house, as you_ know. Naturally, we don’t want to have any funeral till we are quite certain that there is no chance of the body being identified by the poor fel-. low’s -friends. Say another week. why?” . . „■ “ Oh, only a little idea of mine,” Phil said. “ I'll come round for the key to-morrow.” Temple put up the story and went to bed. If hist theory was correct, then everything was going to turn out for the best. He called the next afternoon on Lady Silverdale on the chance of finding her

at home. She was having lunch alone, and pressed him to join her. She looked a shade less anxious than usual, and greeted him with a smile of welcome. They sat over their coffee presently, and Phil was permitted a cigarette.

“ There have been no further developments?” Phil asked. “No more anonymous letters?”

“ Not since the night at the Duchess of Harringay’s,” JlJsie said. “ The mysterious events fol owing that night have occupied a deal of my attention, Phil. The more i think it over the more mysterious it seems. I was wondering if it was not a trap of seme kind.”

“ I don’t think so,” Phil said, thoughtfully. “ I should say that the writer . was in earnest. She has evidently suffered from tbo effects ol some scandal. By the way, what about that bracelet? Did that come back with the rest of your valuables?” “No, it didn’t,” Lady Silverdale said. “ I looked very carefully to see. That is by no means the least strange of the happenings. Why do you ask, Phil?” Temple evaded the question. He bad discovered exactly what he was after, ami the fact sufficed. As a matter of fact, be was glad to h ear this—it all tended to confirm his theory. “1 ■ quit© believe that your blackmailing friend is dead,” he said. “Had his death been delayed just a little longer, you would probably hare got your bracelet back. He hadn’t sufficient time to put it away with the rest of what" I call stolen property. Upon my word, it is a strange case, Elsie. One can.understand a blackmailer and his methods, but usually he runs his risks for money.” . “He had money and jewelley from me,” Lady Silverdale said bitterly. “Yes, but you tell me it has all come back. It looks as if the ruffian had no need for cash. If so he would not have saved up everything he get from you in that secret and careful manner. Anyway, lam pretty certain that you will not hear from him again.” Lady Silverdale sincerely hoped not. Her troubles recently had,.been almost more than she could bear. She had heard nothing from her husband, and had not the least idea where he was. “I am not seeking information," she Slid, coldly. “I should not get it if 1 needed it ever so badly. Those strange absences of Silverdalo’s are the one bright spot in my life. If he did not leave me like this"every now .nl then I think that I should go mad. The one .drawback is i,that Ea toay.Aotip n f t any moment. ,Ho always keegs main a constant state of suspense ’ Phil muttered something undo, - his breath. It seemed to him a cruel it jin g that a good and innocent worm i siiould be tortured in this way. Some of these days Silverdale would go a Step too faij\ .and then Phil wou d take the law in his own- bands. AU ha could do for the present was to liter words of sympathy and keep Ins f elings under control as far as possible. . „ - "It is a strange world we live in, b • said. “The fable' of the Spartan boy and the fox applies to most of us to-day as it did centuries ago. You must hope for the best, dear.” “Oh, I do,” Lady Silverdale said with a faint smile. “I am almost afraid to think that my hopes really are. How can I expect to be happy so long as Silverdale is alive, Phil 0 There are times when I could almost pray for -his death." “X don’t, but I hope for it,” Phil said coolly. “Why is a rascal like ‘that allowed to cumber the earth? Be has never done good to a single soul since the day of his birth. Ho never .had a generous instinct or a kind feeling for anybody. And yet he has gut health and plenty of money. When iNemosis strikes he will be hit hard.” The clock on the mantlepiece struck three, and Phil jumped to his feet. "So late as thatl” he exclaimed. “I must be going, Elsie. I’d, like to come in to-morrow evening if I may .at the same time. Perhaps I shall have news for you.” Ladv Silverdale shook her head despairingly. There was only one good piece of news that was likely to bring balm to her wounded soul, and that was hot likely to come, through Philip Temple. She watched him through the curtain as he strode down the street; the tears rose to her eves. “I wonder how much longer it will go on ?” she asked herself. “Ho.v much longer will it be possible to endure such a wretched existence c.s mine? X dare say there are worse troubles in the world, but it is hard to believe it. Why is the path of uuty so hard ?” • • • •

Sparrow parted with the key of the flat in Ponder avenue with none too good a grace. All this was exceedingly irregular, and he did not fail to lot Philip know it. “I dare sav I shall get myself into trouble.” he growled. “Just rav luck if I do. Anyway, 1 have made the path as smooth for you as possible. The policeman on duty close by has been told to take no notice if he sees lights in tlje windows. You have been described to him.”

“That is very good of vou.” Phi! said “Have you done any good?” “No, sir, I haven’t done any good,’ said Sparrow, with the air of a man who imagines that he has a gennimgrievance against Providence.- “I’m just as much in the dark as I was eight and forty hours ago. I can’t put my hand on even so much as a burnt-out match to build a theory on. I’ve puzzled over the thing till my bead fairly aches. No use asking it you have found out anything?” “Why not?” Phil laughed. “Don i. forget the old rofrain that savs ‘A raw recruit might chance to shoot great General Bonaparte.’ And I’m not quite a raw recruit. As a matter of fact, T have done wonderfully well. Sparrow. I don’t mind admitting that I’ve, had my share of luck. But I’ve got facts and I’ve got theories and they-all-fit in-together. You’d laugh at my theory if I told it you now, but you won’t, laugh in a week’s stime.” “Then you’re not going to tell me anything?” Sparrow asked.

“Not at present, Inspector. I may be able to tell you a great deal thi.time to-morrow, and on tbo other bam I may not. Give me the key, please. Sparrow handed over the latchko.. and suffered Phil to depart withoui asking further questions. If there, wa: anything to know ho would know it all in good time, and at any rate hi could consile himself with the re fipc tion that any kudos would he his. Ik Temple was not in the least likely t expect any public credit so long as h< secured something exclusive for luck to him,’-’ Sparrow said magnanimously. “That’s all I can say. I hope he won t come a nasty cropper over this business. It was a little before eleven that Phil appeared at the fiat in Pondoavenue, and opened the door gontlyv He did not make the faintest sound as be crossed tbo hall aod f®lt “is "***? in the study. He had matches in his pockets, but ho preferred to Put up the shutters before be switched on the lin-ht. It was not a pleasant feeling to" stand there alone in the dead of the night within a few feet of tlu place where the murder was committed, but Phil did not allow his mind to dwell on this. He had come here look ing for something, and he meant to find it if ho spent the night here. As he stood in the doorway trying to make out a familiar object or two m the gloom it seemed to him that he could hear somebody moving in one of the bedrepms beyond. A moment later and his suspicion became certainty. Somebody was about who Uaa a small electric torch m his or her hand. The torch spurted UP and fhff stepped forward. His hand fall with a close grip on the slender wrist of "°‘‘Give me that torch,” he demanded “Let me look at your face. I fancy I know who you are. Unless I am greatly mistaken, yon are Esme. The woman looked him steadily m she said quietly. “E«ne is my name. Who told you? (To ho Continued.)