JEWELS OF MALICE

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 1027, 18 July 1930, Page 5

JEWELS OF MALICE

COPYRIGHT

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT

Autho, « Th# fmM." -TO. Girl I. V.llo. " The Swd«r.- «<-_ .u.

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ELLIOT BAILEY

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. Chapters T.-lll.—Bruce Lorimer, reclining on the cliffs and gazing out ut sea, witnesses a strange sight. Two motor-boats tearing along in single file. The smaller, leading, lias for occupant a girl, tense, holding the tiller. The more powerful vessel contains three men, and is fast overhauling the girl. Without slackening, the girl sweeps right round, heading for shore. She runs her boat straight into a sandy cove, and almost immediately Bruce hears the crack of two pistol-shots. He climbs down the cliffs and reaches the spot where she is lying behind a rock. She springs to her feet, with revolver raised, and demands the why of his presence. Bruce replies that he had heard the shots. As the sound of the other motor engine has died away. Xancy Hylton, accompanied by Bruce Lorimer. turns toward her own launch. Her foot slips on a slime-covered stone, and she throws up both arms to steady herself. A small leather bag faMs to the ground, while something emerges from it that flashes green flame. Bruce picks up a magnificent string of emeralds. Seated in the launch, she demands his name, recognises him as an author, and decides to tell him the story of the emeralds. They reach the head

of the inlet, where Xancy has her home with her aunt. Emily Hylton. She disappears among the trees, while Bruce sets off on his two-mile walk to Herringford. Seeing a cottage close to the water’s edge with •‘Apartments to Let," he knocks at the door. The owner of that house, Samuel Rugely, has been an unseen witness of the whole episode, had heard their conversation and seen the green flash of the emeralds before Xancy slipped them back into the bag. Sam is an ex-criminal who has gone straight of late years, owing to the influence of his wife. He makes for home, and learns from Mrs. Rugely of the coming new lodger. He goes out, walking toward the Mill House, where the Hyltons live. Turning a corner, he bumps into a hurrying man, who promptly lays him low. Bruce finds him lying there as he returns to tho cottage, and, raising the man’s comes into contact with the warm stickiness of half-coagulated blood. CHAPTER V. But that at least could be put to the test. Not only the girl herself, but all the curious circumstances of the affair had made a strong impression upon him, and he had made up his mind to probe it to the utmost. His first act, therefore, on reaching the London terminus, was to take a taxi to Somerset House, and there he found less difficulty than he had anticipated in tracing what he wanted. Several Baxters had departed this life in the last few months but only one of these was James, and it was not long before he was reading the provisions of the latter’s will. Only one bequest in the document interested him—that "which left to “my friend, Nancy Mary Hylton, my emerald necklace,” on conditions which, stripped of their legal phraseology, were exactly what Nancy had told him. Any failure to comply with all or any of these conditions meant that the emeralds were to revert to “my life-long friend and man-of-business, Joseph Gregory.*” Bruce heaved a vast sigh of relief. So Nancy had told him the truth—that was certain. Therefore she could have no connection with tho northern robbery. The will, moreover, confirmed what had already struck him —that it was the lawyer, Joseph Gregory, who was obviously bound to profit from any failure to comply with the foolish and unfair conditions attached to Nancy’s legacy. His next step, he determined, was to visit the lawyer and see for himself what manner of man he might be. The chance was, of course, that the latter might decline to see him without appointment, or, finding what his errand "was, might bluntly tell him that the affair was no business of his. But that he would have to risk. The telephone directory informed him that Joseph Gregory’s office was in Bedford Row', and hither he now repaired, sending in his name with an apology for not making an appointment and stating that the matter w'as urgent. He was agreeably relieved when the reply came that Mr. Gregory would see him at once, and a few moments later he found himself in the presence of the lawyer, a tall, sallow, thin man in the middle fifties who threw him a searching glance as he came in.

“Good afternoon. Mr. Lorimer,” lie said urbanely. “What can I do for you?” Bruce iu his turn summed up the other as quickly as he could, and made little of him. A keen man, he decided, w’ith hard eyes trained to

give nothing away. He came to the point at once. “You act, I believe, for my friend, Miss Nancy Hylton, of Herringford?” For an instant he thought the other’s eyes -narrowed. “In one particular matter,” he answered guardedly. “Not in a general sense.” “It is with regard to that particular matter that I wish to consult you.” Briefly, he outlined the facts of the case as he knew them and the lawyer heard him to the end in studied silence. But when he came to the attack upon Nancy by the occupants of the motor-boat Bruce felt that he had pierced his listener’s apparent indifference. He noted that his fist clenched and unclenched on the table though he maintained his silence till the end. Then he asked the question Bruce had been expecting. “Have you Miss Hylton’s authority to come to me.?” he inquired. “No,” was the candid reply. “I haven’t, but as a friend of hers I thought that the circumstances warranted my consulting you.” The lawyer drummed on the table, and Bruce was afraid that it was iu his mind to ask how long he had known Nancy Hylton. But apparently he assumed that the acquaintanceship was longer than was the actual case, for his next words came as a relief to the younger man. “I think you did right, Mr. Lorimer. I confess that I take a serious view of what you have just told* me. The conditions attached to Miss Hylton’s legacy are of course lamentable — placing me as well as herself in an invidious position. I need hardly say I was not a party to them. What.” he added suddenly, “do you think ought to be done?” “1 think,” Bruce said bluntly, “that the police ought to be informed.” But at. this the lawyer raised a deprecating hand.

“I’m afraid I cannot go so far as that,” he demurred, “without consulting Miss Hylton first. Are you returning to Herringford today? You are?” He glanced at. the clock. “Then I will catch the five o’clock train and travel down with you, Mr. Lorimer. Today is Friday, and I had intended to run down there tomorrow for the week-end in any case. Normally I should stay in Herringford, but what you have told me makes me think that it might be advisable to be nearer Miss Hylton for the present. There is a cottage close to the Mill House, the only other building in the vicinity, and ” “I’m afraid I’ve forestalled you there, Mr. Gregory,” Bruce interrupted. “I’ve already booked all the accommodation the Rugelys have to let.” The result of this disclosure was startling. For an instant something approaching fury gleamed from the lawyer’s almost colourless eyes. Then he had himself in hand again. “Ah,” he said suavely, “I was not aware of that, of course. Then I must stay in Herringford as usual. I will meet you at the station.” “Now, wliat do I think of Joseph Gregory?” Bruce asked himself as he left the office. “Plausible—and yet. And why was he in such a paddy when he found X was already at the cottage? Oh, well; I’ve got the journey to sound him further.” As it happened, however, other passengers iu their carriage gave them little chance to discuss the matter. “We’ll go into things further tomorrow when I've seen Miss Hylton,” Gregory said, as they shook hands on Herringford platform. “Until then, au revoir—l shan’t stir out of my hotel tonight.” CHAPTER VI. For some reason that she could not fathom, Nancy found that day drag in unwonted fashion. Normally she discovered plenty to occupy her time, both in the house and out of it, but today her various occupations failed her, and in between times she more than once caught herself wondering what had taken Bruce Lorimer to town. “His work, of course,” she told herself. “What else could it be?” That afternoon she wandered up into the woods, and there she came across Sam Rugely taking an unfortur”te rabbit put of one of his gins.

“You’re a cruel beast, Sam, that’s what you are,” she said indignantly, “to torture the poor little thing like that.” Sam regarded her with a sour expression. “Sir Malcolm gives me leave to do it,” he grumbled. “Varmin, that’s what rabbits be—varmin.” The girl shrugged her shoulders. She knew how useless it was to argue with him. “If Sir Malcolm Courtney sanctions that,” she snapped, “he’s as cruel as you are. What's the matter with your head?” she went, on, eyeing the bandage that still adorned it. "Slipped coming through the woods last night, and knocked it against a tree,” the man growled. It was on the tip of Nancy’s tongue to say “serve you right for torturing dumb animals,” but realising afresh liow impossible it was to make him understand her point of view, she refrained, switching instead on to the subject that had been in her mind all along. “I see you've got another boarder, Sam.” she said artlessly. Sam stared. It was on the point of Ills tongue to observe that surely she knew that as well as he did, and then just in time he remembered that, he was not, supposed to be aware that she aud Bruce had met. A look of cunning settled on his unprepossessing countenance, though inwardly he was flustered at having so nearly given himself away. | “Aye.” lie said with elaborate carelessness. “a young chap as my missis let the rooms to late last night. Said ’e’d fallen in love with the place, or some such rot, though wot ’e can see in a. dull ’ole like this beats me. Gone to Lunnon today, ’e ’as.” “Is he coming back tonight?” , “Aye; said so, at any rate.” This was what Nancy had wanted to --make sure of. Somehow the thought of Bruce at the cottage was ' giving her greater comfort than she ! would have believed possible. The '■ motor-boat, affair had shaken her more than sho had allowed to be seen, in • spite of her pluck, and it had been to ascertain that no lurking figures ’ were around the house that she had > come out on the balcony the night before.

Having learnt what she wished to know, she strolled away, with a mental note to ask Sir Malcolm Courney, the owner of the woods, to put a stop to Sam’s trapping if she met him. The latter gazed after her with a baleful expression.

“Wot's yer little game. I’cl like to know,” lie muttered, “pretending as you didn’t know as that young bloke was staying at, the cottage—you aud yer sparklers! ” He waited until the girl was out of sight, then, picking up not only the rabbit but the trap as well, he slouched away.

Nancy’s rather aimless footsteps took her back to the Inlet, aud there, to kill time more than anything else, she boarded the launch. Remembering what had happened the day before, she did not this time extend her cruise into the open sea, but even so the excursion was ntot without its thrill. At one point, half-way down the creek, a heavily wooded bluff ran out into the water, and passing close under this she became convinced that someone was watching her from between the trees. For the briefest fraction of time she caught sight of a man’s face aud figure. Then they were withdrawn into the undergrowth, leaving the bluff as seemingly deserted as before.

Nancy’s heart beat more quickly, and taking no chances she turned the launch and speeded homewards. This time, however, no shots followed her flight, and by the time she had moored the launch and walked to the house she was inclined to put the whole thing down to nerves. This wouldn’t do, she decided. She must pull herself together.

At tea she indulged iii another piec“ of finesse.

“Aunt Emily,” she said, apropos of nothing, “a rather nice-looking young man is staying at the Cottage. I saw him coming out of there this morning.”

“Indeed,” remarkfed Miss Emily Hylton, who lield old-fashioned notions, “I hope he’s not of the same type as that artist bounder who was there some time back. If we find he’s really nice, we might ask him to call. Doubtless he would appreciate a little society. Whereat the guileful Nancy smiled into her tea-cup. She had an idea that. Bruce would not require much pressing to call.

Unaware of these tentative proposals for his entertainment, the latter parted from Mr. Joseph Gregory at the station and forty minutes later was eating with relish the supper provided for him by Mrs. Rugely. Sam greeted his without enthusiasm. It had been a severe shock to him to find that his “lodger,” as he called him, was the same young man he had seen with Nancy on the beach, and he had an idea that he was going

to find Bruce very much iu the way. During the evening he had been tinkering with the trap he had brought down from the woods—“mending the springs” he had told the inquisitive Mrs. Rugely—but in reality enlarging the aperture of the grim steel jaws until they would be able to close on something larger than a rabbit. While Bruce was at supper he carried the contrivance out into the gathering dusk and set it down on the path close to the spot where he had betm attacked. “Now,” he muttered, “if that bloke wot cracked me on the ’cad comes messing round again he’ll likely meet, with something he don't bargain for!” The problem as to whether or not he should do sentry-go once more round the Mill House was exercising Bruce’s mind. He knew- that even his stamina would not allow him to do this night after night, and in the end he resolved just to scout round after the Rugelys had gone to bed aud base any further action on what he found then.

But he met with au unexpected check. Mrs. Rugely retired early, as was her wont, but Sam on the contrary showed no inclination for bed. Wandering from room to room he made desultory conversation w-ith the impatient Bruce, ignoring more than one querulous query from above as to what he was “adoing of,” and to Bruce it appeared sometimes as it the man was listening. '

It w-as close upon eleven when the climax came. From outside the house there sounded a sudden yell of pain and fury which on the instant galvanised Sain into actioh.

“Got him!” he growled, with supreme satisfaction. “Now us’U see ’oo the blighter is!” He lumbered out of the bouse, the astonished Bruce close at his heels, taking the path, the latter noticed, which led to the Mill House. The yells had stopped now, being succeeded by a series of low-voiced curses which grey louder as they advanced, and presently there loomed the dim figure of the man who had been caught in Sam’s trap. In Bruce’s pocket was an electric torch, which he had slipped there in view of his own projected expedition. He drew it out now and flashed on the light—to stand stock still in petrified astonishment. For the man who stood there, held by the leg, an expression of almost devilish rage on his working features, was Mr. Joseph Gregory—Joseph Gregory who had declared that he was not going to stir outside his hotel that night. Bruce was still staring as if unable to believe his eyes when there came another diversion.

Down the path -tore Nancy Hylton. She swerved as if to avoid the group of men. but when Bruce called to her she rushed straight to him. “Bruce,” she gasped, in her agitation using the name by which he had been in her thoughts, “Bruce—Mr. Lorimer —they’ve gone—gone—gone—the emeralds are stolen!” CHAPTER VII. It was a striking little tableau, intensified if anything by the soft darkness of the summer’s night—Bruce, a little bewildered; Sant Rugely, even more so; the distraught girl, her hand on Bruce’s sleeve; and. outlined in the white flare of Bruce’s lamp, the working features of Mr. Joseph Gregory, his foot caught securely in Sam’s ingenious trap. Yet it was the latter who, in spite of his unpleasant situation, recovered himself first. “The jewels stolen!” he snapped. “I’m not surprised to hear that—seeing that I was probably chasing the thief when I put my foot into this infernal affair. For heaven’s sake, get it off, one of you; I don’t want my leg bitten through.” It was the former part of his statement upon which Bruce seized, however. “This man you were chasing,” ho cried. “Where’s he now?” “How in thunder should I know?” was the irate reply. “A mile away by now if he’s wise. And until you've got this thing off my leg I’ll not say another word.” Bruce motioned to Sam. To a certain extent he sympathised with the lawyer’s point of view, although he had already made up his mind that there was a good deal that the latter would have to explain. Still, it was annoying to stand in a gin. "Unfasten the thing, Sam,” he said. “I suppose you can?” But instead of doing anything of the sort Sam Rugely advanced menacingly toward the captured man. "Was you the bloke that biffed me over the head yesterday?” he demanded. “ ’Cos if you was—”

Bruce interrupted him testily. "Don't be a fool, man,” he said. “Mr. Gregory was in London yesterday. L'ndo that trap at once!” Muttering and grumbling to himself. Sam stooped and fumbled with the contrivance, and a few moments later Mr. Joseph Gregory was free and hob bling down the path supported by Bruce and Sam on either side.

They took him into the cottage, where his hurt was found to be a superficial one. The widened mouth of the trap had gripped him tightly enough to hold him, but although the leg might show signs of bruising next day the skin was scarcely broken. It was evident that the chief injury was to his pride—also perhaps to his nerves, for he was white and shaky when placed on a couch in the cottage.

Between them they bandaged the injured limb, Mrs. Rugley, brought from her bed by the commotion, as sisting in a weird and wonderful dressing gown which in a previous existence must have been a patchwork quilt or rug. Then, when a glass of whisky had brought back some colour to the lawyer's face, Bruce, who had found his impatience difficult to began to question him once more. “Now,” he' said, “let’s hear what happened, Mr. Gregory. 1 never expected to .see you again tonight,” he added, meaningly. But before the lawyer could speak another thought seemed to strike him. and he turned to Nancy, who had accompanied them to the cottage. “I think, first of all, that we’d bet ter hear how you discovered the theft, Miss Hylton. One thing is certain now—the police must be informed, and as quickly as possible—and we must give them all the data to work upon we can.”

“There’s very little for me to tell,” the girl replied. “For once, I bad forgotten all about the wretched necklace—l’m beginning to call it that in spite of its value —and it was such a lovely night that Auntie and I strolled down as far as the Inlet together before going to bed. Bella, the maid, by the way, had gone to bed some time before. When I got back I went straight to my room, and opening my jewel case—it’s become a habit now— I found at once that the necklace and its bag had gone. I was tearing to the cottage to tell you when—but you know the rest.”

“Some of it —not all unfortunately.” Bruce said, “though possibly Mr. Gregory can elighten us further. But be fore we hear what he has to say—just one or two questions. “First of all —when you and your aunt walked down to the water, did you leave the door open behind you?” “I’m afraid we did,” the girl admitted. “You see, until lately, we’ve never even thought of burglars in this quiet spot. And tonight, as I said. I’d temporarily forgotten the emeraids.” “So that all anyone had to do was to walk into the house and go straight to your room and steal them?” “Yes —if they knew the way.” “Precisely—that’s a good point. They must have known the way. When did you see the necklace last?” (To be continued tomorrow)