THE LOCKED ROOM

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 688, 13 June 1929, Page 5

THE LOCKED ROOM

SERIAL STORY

By

E. Clepham Palmer.

COPYRIGHT

'-'HAPTF.R XIX.-THE woman in the locked boom. Which room is the sister in?" Felscombe eagerly. "The locked room?" les. The locked room. She's a Prisoner." leant forward: “And Mrs. , pAactly. That was what I asked, j. a ***<l they change places. When VTuddenham is in the house outc ? Winchester, his sister is at ’The Xc> B —P° s 't>g as the invalid wife, jh . oae sees her. No one suspects , 8 there. After a few days she Tiirfj t° Winchester, and Mrs. It\ < \f n * ,am °omes to ’The Cedars.’ . ' a dangerous and blackguardly .. V nut no one except Bassett seems , 0 f n ow what’s going on. He’d like v n'orfere. hut he doesn’t see what _<an do. Apparently his sister's idea to T ji he ouly thing to do is to stick , ‘Uddenham. Whether she deliberru J. hoses as au invalid wife, or her , does what Tuddenham tells do, I don't know. The whole - surely," interrupted Felscombe, tVhvI 6 OVPrlo °ked the real point, tunai * tuddenham making this unforte girl pose as his invalid wife?”

“I know. The whole thing turns on that. The brother’s theory is that Tuddenham sees no other way out. He's taking advantage of his wife's I illness. It s about as sctualid an i affair ” i Felscombe leant forward again. Has the brother seen Mrs. Tuddenham I since her illness?” j "Oh, yes. A few days ago he vent | down to Winchester to try to get into touch with his sister. Unluckily the j real wife was there. He saw Tudj denharn carry her out in his arms to | the car.” "How did he manage to see that. "He'd been hiding behiud a bush • nearly all the evening. Just before . midnight the door opened and Tuddenham came out. He put the wind !! u p Bassett by switching on the headj lights, which happened to be facing I the bush he was hiding behind. He ! | thought Tuddenham was certain to ■ I spot him, but he didn't. He went - ! back into the house, and in about five . | minutes the door opened again, and he * | appeared with his wife in his arms. J He put her inside the car and then drove hgr to London. "But wait a minute,” said Widhurst ’ “how did your man know that the ' woman he saw was the invalid wife?"

“The same thing occurred to me,” said Carter, “and I asked if he was certain that it was Mrs. Tuddenham. He said he was certain it wasn’t his i sister. Who could it be except Mrs. I Tuddenham? I don’t see how there I can be two women in the case.” I “Nor I,” said Felscombe. “But let's Ibe clear. It is suggested that. Tuddenham takes Miss Bassett down to Winchester, or somewhere near WinI Chester, drops her in an hotel, calls for I his wife, takes her back to London, j and then returns to Winchester?” I "1 know it sounds a bit fanciful,” i said Carter, “but apparently that’s I what happens. You see. no one is ■ ever quite sure where Tuddenham is. !He moves about at all hours of the | night. You think it's too fantastic a I story?” i -I don't say that,” said Felscombe i slowly, “but you must remember, that 1 when Tuddenham leaves ‘The Cedars’ i he says that he and his wife are going 1 away for a few days. How could he j substitute the other woman without ■ [.arousing suspicion? No meals would 1 j be taken up. How could she live?” . “Yes. 1 know! Miss Daveutry tells l i me that Tuddenham often left a mes- - j sage that no meals need be taken up ; i as his wife was on special diet for a 1 ! few days.” > I “I see!” said Felscombe. “So the ’ | idea is that this unfortunate girl, pos- ! j lug as the invalid wife, remains a Walk Easy Ointment for tired, ten--1 ; der feet. Removes hard skin, callouses, etc. Works while you sleep. No ex- * cuse for limping. Tin posted for Is 6d. ’ —E. W. Hall. 117 Armagh St., Christchurch. *•

prisoner in the locked room, and gets i 1 her own meals. But, surely, she would i be heard moving about?” ] •'Not necessary. It isn’t simply a i room. It’s a whole suite of rooms in a far corner of the house, and it would be quite possible for someone to live ! there without the rest of the household knowing that she was there at I all. . . The taxi drew up to the pavement, I and then stopped abruptly. The three i 1 men hurried into the house. 1 “It seems to me,” said Felseombe, j “that the best thing we can do is to i get Mr. Bassett to tell us all he knows ! about Horace Tuddenham. ! John Bassett shifted uneasily in his , ! seat. “May I take it that anything I ; | say will be in confidence?” ! “Certainly. That's understood," said j I Carter. “Good! Then I’ll tell you all I know. J I But first I’d like to say this. You'll j realise that my first anxiety is to res- j I cue my sister from the toils of this j blackguard: my second is to avoid pub- j licitv. If the case gets into court, my j ! sister’s life will be ruined. It any of j you can help me to avoid that, I shall 1 be very grateful." Carter looked doubtfully at him. ! “I’m not sure we can promise to avoid publicity. After all. I’m in the police, and it might be necessary.” ‘T doubt it," interrupted Felseombe. “We've got Miss Western to consider - as well as Mr. Bassett’s sister.” ! “What about my distinguished career as a detective?” smiled Carter. ’ > “Better wash that out.” said Fels- ! combe. “You can't possibly stick in . 1 the police. ... At any rate, let’s carry . i on as we are for a bit. If we find it

necessary to let the police officially i into it, we shall have to, but in the i meantime we’ll do our best to avoid ; it. That’s clear. Mr. Bassett? Good! - And now, if you’ll cary on. ...” ; John Bassett lit a pipe and leant back in his chair. “1 first met Horace Tuddenham,” he said slowly, “about four months ago. I went to his garage to buy a car. 1 told him I wanted one that a woman could drive easily, as I was anxious that my sister, who lias lived with me for some years, should j have as much fun out of it as I had. j | In the end I bought an excellent little I car. I am a busy man, and when Tud- j | denharn volunteered to teach my sister j i to drive I accepted his offer. I “That was a serious mistake. I j j knew nothing of the man. I didn’t ! even know he was married. My sister, j j I am sorry to say, fell in love with ! ! him. ! “One night I missed her, and found j a note saying that she was with Tud- ; denharn, that I wasn’t to attempt to communicate with her, that she was quite happy, and expected before long to be married. What could I do? I soon found that Tuddenham was mar- | ried. and that his wife was an invalid | confined to her room. It seemed to I be useless to attempt to see him. I j thought, it better to persuade my sisi ter to leave him. ! “Late one night, after watching , ! Tuddenham leave the house, I suci ceeded in attracting my sister’s at- > i tention from the garden. She came | to the window of her bedroom. After 1 Whatever the cause of a cold ’ “N’AZOL” is tiie sure remedy. : instant relief. 60 doses for Is 6d. 17

a few minutes she admitted she was unhappy, but begged me not to do anything. I told her that T would write to her. She begged me not to. and added that probably she wouldn’t I get the letter. Just then someone came into the garden, and I had f o ! hide. Later she came to the window j again. I got her to tell me exactly i the position of her room, and 1 said ! that 1 would try, about midnight, to ; get into the house and leave some j money in an envelope outside her : door. I knew she hadn’t any, and it seemed to me it was the least I ! could do. Without money she was ! helpless. With it she might come to ! her senses and escape. Unluckily, it 1 was impossible to throw anything up j to the window, as the branches of a ; tree were in the way. At the time it didn’t occur to me that 1 might be j able to climb the tree.” ! He hesitated a moment, and then, [having relit his pipe, went on quickly: “[ tried to get into the house —but failed. Tonight I succeeded in climbing the tree, but unluckily 1 didn’t know that Tuddenham had returned. [ He heard me . . . and you know the , ; rest.” l | “Probably you’ll wonder,’ he added thoughtfully, “what makes me think j that my sister is made to pose a.-: > the invalid wife. It seems to me to ■ be clear. The wife, as you know. i = ■ j confined to her room. She leaves it - only to go away with Tuddenham —ir •' the middle of the night—to his conn | try house outside Winchester. I’ve j j seen them arrive there, and I've seer s ! them leave. Well, it’s clear to nif r i that Tuddenham doesn't want any

one to know that he’s living a double j life. The fact that his wife is con- j fined to her room gives him an easy way out. As far as I can gather, no one has the least suspicion that the invalid’s room —the locked room —is j ever occupied by anyone, excep_ Mrs. Tuddenham. When my sister is j there she’s a prisoner.” He got up and shook his pipe out 1 into the grate. “I think that’s pretty j ‘ well all I know —except that I believe Tuddenham is hard up. I’ve made j some inquiries, and apparently there s j no doubt he’s been in difficulties for ’ some time. I’m told that ho borrows j J from a wealthy relative of his —an old - man who has a big place near Leath--5 erhead. l understand that he's rather 1 eccentric, and that Tuddenham has j sometimes had difficulty in getting 3 money out of him. That’s all I know. = It. isn’t much, but if it’s any use to :

l 3'ou. . . - And if you can help me to i persuade my sister to leave the blacki guard who has deceived her.” j “You can rely on us,” said Carter, ! “to do all that can be done. You’ve given us valuable information.” “May I ask one or two questions?” 1 said Felscombe, eagerly. “You say I you’ve seen Mrs. Tuddenham. You’re I quite sure about that?” “Quite. With the idea of getting j in touch with ray sister, I’ve been i down to Winchester several times, j Unluckily each time she was in London at ‘The Cedars/ It was then I saw Mrs. Tuddenham. One night I saw her husband carry her from the car into the house, and another night I saw him carry her out to tho car. Once I heard her singing. Apparently she’s not well enough to walk —but she can sing pretty well.” , (To be continued daily.)