The Shadow Crook

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 584, 9 February 1929, Page 23

The Shadow Crook

i By

Aidan de Brune

j (Author of “Dr Night,” “The I Carson Loan Mystery,” “The j j Dagger and the Cord,” etc.)

1 (COPYRIGHT.) ■

CHAPTER XV.—Continued “What about Abel Mintos?” The four words of the telegram burned on his brain. What about Abel Mintos? From the moment Norma Etheringham had told the story of the financier’s offer of the Kynaston sapphires to her husband the detective had noted the man as worthy of investigation. The Jew must be very certain of his ability to discover the hiding place of the jewels if he offered them for sale. For the moment a thought rose to ■Mason’s mind. Had Abel Mintos the White Trinity and the Kynaston sapphires?

Mintos had brought the White Trinity from Broome to Stacey Carr. He had arrived in Sydney a few days before Mrs. Kynaston came to the old jeweller. He had called on Carr and left the pearls with him. Had he been in the shop when Stacey Canopened the secret safe to place the pearls there? If so, why had he left them in hiding for five long years? Ha:l Abel Mintos known of the expected arrival of Mrs. Kynaston with her beautiful gems? Had Abel Mintos deposited the pearls with Stacey Carr so as to learn the secret of the hidden safe? Had he been the undiscovered assailant of the old man? Had he and not Samuel Keene struck the blow that seale-l the secret of Stacey Carr’s safe?

Yei, if Abel Mintos had struck down ! the old jeweller and obtained the missing jewels, why had the Shadow Crook ! aken so great an interest in the Carew Dane shop, and Stacey Carr? It was possible to theorise, to place the name of Abel Mintos where the Shadow Crook’s stood in the theory he was trying to construct from the small number of threads in his hands. But Abel Mintos had been an invalid in Norma Etheringham’s house at the time of Frederick Mayne’s murder In the Carew Lane shop. The Shadow Crook! Mason smiled i serenely. At last the master criminal i had left a clue to himself. The telegram with the four significant words had come from the Shadow Crook. To send it he had to fill in a form. He i would be required to place on the back jof the form a name and address. In ! the writing of that form he had made a slip that would place the detective : hot on his track.

1 Mason left Police Headquarters and went to the General Post Office. Ten minutes later he was seated in the | telegraph director’s offices, the origiJ nal form in his hand. It was written in block capitals, each letter carefully i formed and void of individuality-. He turned the form over. The name and i address of the sender was badly- writ- ; ten across the back: “S. Keene, RayI Hill Court, Sydney.” S. Keene! Samuel Keene! The in- | spectar almost laughed aloud. At last he bed a definite point from where to j commence his investigations. Not that I he believed the Shadow Crook lived a<

Ray- Hill Court. The man would not make that slip, but there could be no doubt hut that the name and add ress were impressed, in some manner, on the master criminal’s mind.

Sternly repressing the wave of elation that swept over him at the sight of the address, Mason again bent over the form. There might he yet another clue. For the moment he thought of finger-prints, to surreuder the idea with a smile and a shrug of his broad shoulders. The Shadow Crook did not make those mistakes. The telegram had been sent to further some definite object. It had been carefully- planued, and the crook would certainly- have worn gloves while writing the form. No; there was nothing more to be

read from the small oblong of paper. Reluctantly- the detective surrendered it to the waiting official and left the building. He must go at once to Ray Hill Court. He knew the place. It stood in College Street, not far from the junction of Liverpool and Oxford Streets. A superior class of flats bearing a good name. Mason walked quickly up Pitt and King Street to St. James’s Station. From there, across Hyde Park, he could see the top storeys of Ray Hill Court. Walking along College Street, he studied the building intently. About 50 people would inhabit that 1 block of flats. Who was he to ask for? He could not go from flat to flat inquiring for the Shadow Crook, or Samuel Keene. He would have to follow the line laid out for him in the telegram. Did Abel Mintos live there? It was an idea! Had the Shadow Crook written the address knowing that the inspector would go to the General Post Office to see the original form? The inspector lengthened his stride. It was possible. But first he must try and get on the track of the Shadow Crook, or the man whose name he had found on the back of the telegram form. —S. Keene. Mason ran up the few steps leading into the hall of Ray Hill Court. The caretaker was there, carelessly wielding a broom. On seeing the inspector, he came forward and inquired his business. For a moment Mason did not answer. He was looking around for the usual tablet containing the names of tenants. "Mr. Keene. Mr. Samuel Keene! Does he live here?” The detective took a chance on the name. "Nope!” The man shook his head, j indifferently, and returned to the lazy- | waving of the broom. “Nothin’ like i that ’ere.” “You’re the caretaker?” “Yep.” “No list of tenants in the hall, I J see.” Again the inspector looked j around. | “ ’Awkers ain’t allowed. Whater y-er sellin, ?” j Mason drew his identification card from his pocket and handed it to the man. A look of stolid wonder came ou the man’s face. “StrewtU! Who's this ’ere Sam Keene, an’ what’s ’e done?” “Where’s the list of tenants’” “One in my- office mister.” The caretaker leisurely shouldered his broom and turned to the stairs descending beside the lift-well. "Come down an’ you'll see it. You ain’t sed what 'e’s | done?” At the foot of the stairs a baizecovered door led to the right. As the man pushed it open a woman appeared out of a small kitchen at the end of the passage and nodded to him, look- ; ing at the detective curiously. The j man led into a small room just within the passage and pointed to a ty-ped list I of tenants on the wall. Mason crossed i to it. The names were not alphabetical: they- were arrangd to the numbers of the flats. Mason’s finger ran down the list. About half-way- he stopped

and turned to the watching caretaker. “Mr. Mintos lives here. Is he at : home?” “Away visitin’.” The man answered ' promptly. “Big private car, a beaute, came here yesterday evening wi’ a note from ’im, askin’ meter pack a bag for ’im. I did. Anythin’ ter oblige Mr. Mintos. ’E’s a gent, ’e is.” “Where’s he staying?” “Out Rose Bay way.” The man paused a second. “Wrote ’e ’ad ’ad a accident. Wouldn’t be ’ome fer a week or so.” The caretaker's story agreed with . Mrs. Etheringham’s statement. For some minutes Mason meditated. Was Mintos the Shadow Crook? If so, then why had he sent the telegram, drawing attention to himself?” No, that was not possible. Mason knew he had seen the Shadow Crook lounging against the entrance to Police Headquarters on the night of the raid. That man was tall and lanky. Abel Mintos, from the description he had obtained from Norma Etheringhani, was short and stout. Mintos had been at Rose Bay on the night of the murder of Frederick Mayne in the Carew Lane shop. Yet ' the Shadow Crook had been there. Mintos was confined to his room at “Avonlea,” and Norma Etheringham was watching him. He had had no opportunity to get to the city that morning, and the Shadow Crook had been at Carew Lane wiping out the tell-tale fingerprints. “You know who I am?” Mason swung suddenly on the caretaker. “Well, Mr. Mintos is away. I want to have a look at his rooms. Do I ! have to bring a search-warrant, or jean you hold your tongue?” ' “Hold me tongue, I suppose.” The | man shrugged his shoulders. “No i good gettin’ up-sides wi’ you blokes. ! You makes it so damned unpleasant.” He led the way to the lift-well and I brought down the cage. The detec- ! tive entered, and they sped up to the j fourth floor. There the caretaker I turned to the left and opened a door, j Mason stepped into a small hall and looked about, him curiously. The flat was well equipped. On the right a small living-room opened into the hall through a curtained arch. Further up the hall another door led into a large study, fitted with two windows. In the far corner stood a workmanlike desk* and beside it a bracket tele> phone. Under the window was a small table, and on it stood a dicta- j phone. Against the wall, opposite the j i desk, stood a cabinet wireless set. The Inspector crossed to the desk. ! | The top was rolled back, and the writ- I ! ing table litered with papers. He j i looked at the caretaker, lounging in i the doorway. He would have liked to | draw up a chair and devote some time i to the examination of the papers, but the man might object, and Mason did j not. want, at present, to trouble with i a warrant. He glanced curiously at ■ ! the letter on top of each group of : papers. So far as he could see, they \ related to commercial and business I matters.

Two envelopes lay on the blotting pad, addressed and sealed. Mason turned them over, curiously. The ink with which the addresses were written looked fresh. The detective could have sworn they had been written within the past few hours. Reluctantly lie laid them aside and passed to the table on which stood the dictaphone. “Writes his letters by hand.” The Inspector spoke carelessly, bending over the telephone. “Yet he appears to use this place as an office.” “Sometimes.” The caretaker spoke indifferently. “There’s a girl comes ’ere when ’e’s at ’ome nearly every | mornin’ an’ get th’ things ’e uses on that thing. Brings ’em back at night wi’ t.h’ letters for ’im ter sign. I’ve been ’ere an’ seen ’er.” “Has his typing done out.” Mason passed again to the desk. “By the way, who cleans out these flats?” “Missus an’ I an’ some womiii we gets in. What's th’ joke?” “Curiosity, just that!” The Inspector bent over the blotting pad. It was almost a new sheet. He could see where the envelopes had been turned over to blot. Under the reversed addresses he saw a couple of lines of writing, but it was so badly fogged that he could not make it out. He swept the two letters on to the desk and lifted the blotting pad. looking round the room for a mirror. There was not one. On his left a door stood open, showing a small bedroom. Mason entered it carrying the blotting pad, and followed by the curious caretaker. He held the blotting pad to the mirror. Now he could read the two addresses, but the other writing was not distiguishable. Impatiently, he tore the top sheet off the pad and stuffed it in his pocket. Anderson might be able to make the words visible. Returning to his study Mason replaced the blot- ; ting pad on the desk and turned to the man. “That’s all here?” “There’s th’ other bedroom.” The ' man answered with evident reluct- j ance. Then he turned with a sudden impulse to the Inspector. “Say. them letters queer. When I got Mr. Mintos’ letter I came up 'ere an’ packed th’ bag. Then I went to th’ desk ter write ’im a bit ov a note. Th’ letters weren’t there then, an' no one’s been in ’ere ’cept th’ woman as tidied up, an’ she wouldn’t leave th’ letters there if she did write ’em.” “You say the letters were not here when Mr. Mintos left the flat. Then who wrote them?” “That's wot I’d like ter know.” The man scratched his head. “They’re damned queer.”

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The detective picked up the letters and crossed the room to the man. holding them so that the man could read the addresses. “Who’s handwriting’s this?” “Mr. Mintos’s.” “But you said Mr. Mintos went out after lunch to Rose Bay and the letters were not on the desk when you wrote the note to go to him with the clothes. You say he is confined at Rose Bay through an accident, so he couldn’t have come back in the night to write them. Now, what's the explanation ?” “I’ve told you all I know.” The man ! spoke sullenly. “That’s ’is writin', but so far as I know ’e didn’t write ’em.” For the time Mason was puzzed. How could Mintos have written those letters when lying ill miles away? The caretaker must be mistaken, athough he appeared confident Mintos had written them. If he had, then, he had been in the flat within the past few hours. For some seconds the detective stood scanning the addresses. He would have liked to open them, but that would have been going far beyoDd his present powers. Reluctantly be crossed again to the desk and tossed the letters on to the blotting pad. “Now for the rest of the flat.” Mason walked across the room and joined the caretaker at the door. “Only one room. Ih’ big bedroom.” The caretaker turned into the hall and opened the door on the opposite side of the ball to the study. “All ready fer ’im to came back an’ . . .” The man ceased speaking suddenly, standing in the doorway, his mouth wide open. Mason shoved him to one side and strode into the room. His eyes fell on the bed. It was in disorder, as if someone had recently been sleeping there. (To be Continued)