THE Twelfth Crime

Sun (Christchurch), Volume I, Issue 138, 17 July 1914, Page 11

THE Twelfth Crime

I A Mystery of Modern London

4^ By SETON CROSS »»*»»*H'»»»*<

Author of "The Stolen Governess," "Queen of the Ballet," "The Mill Girl's Secret," etc.

[COPYBIGHT.]

CHAPTER XXV. (continued). A CASTLE OF SAND. In her astonishment and terror, the Old woman began to stammer out some incoherent words of denial, but Wheeler abruptly cut her short. "Don't waste time in lying to me, he said, sternly. "I know that Treversh is your son, that you and he visited M'Ewan's house on the night following the murder, and you both use the cipher code in which the old man kept his secret accounts. Also, that you and he met on Clapham Common by the handstand, and that at the present time you are living with him over there.' Arid he indicated the house hidden by the trees. As he mentioned each circumstance the old woman seemed almost to wilt and shrink, as though his words had been blows. '.'What is more," he concluded, I am convinced that the pair of you know more about M'Ewan's murder than anybody else." This-last statement, following on the irrefutable string of damning facts, terrified Martha more, perhaps, than anything else he had said. Starting to her feet, she protested with feverish vehemence which threatened to become hysterical that neither she nor her son knew anything whatever about the crime. . "All the rest you said was true, air?"- she cried, realising that deceit could not help her here, and might even pr-ove dangerous. "On my oath I know nothing about the murder, nor does my son either. May I never open my mouth again, sir, if I'm not telling you the Gospel truth! " Wheeler felt that she really was speaking the truth, for the look in the woman's eves confirmed her words. Still, he was not going to accept her bare word, although, for the present, he was content to; put that question aside; What he had to do now was to follow up his advantage as quickly as possible before her fear began to subside/ : "'Then';" he said, ignoring her frantic protestations, "you must know Where Miss Boyd is, because your son does." "I assure you, sir, I don't know," replied the woman, earnestly. "He k&sn 't' told me where he's taken her.''

the secret safe, and so, after the police had searched the place, we went back to see if the papers were still there. But the safe was empty./' Knowing that the woman had told him the truth, Wheeled determined to carry out a project which he had been contemplating for the last ten minutes while watching the youngster putting the finishing touches to his sand-castle. '/Mrs Pattinson," he said. "I'll, make a bargain with .yqu. These.are my conditions. You must come with your son to Mr Holgate's house on Moriday afternoon when, providing you both return Olive, to her home; and your son relinquishes.all claim to herj I will; keep what I know about the pair of you to myself. If you refuse or fail to carry out these conditions, I—well, I shall go straight to the police.'^ "I'm ready to do what you say,.sir," answered Martha, eagerly—too eagerly, Wheeler thought —"and I'll answer for my son. We 're in your hands, sir, and it's for us to do your bidding. So long as you don't split on us we 'll obey your instructions." The journalist glanced at her suspiciously, wondering how far he might trust these protestations, and whether Martha's words were really genuine. At any rate, he had no means of testing them at present, and must be content to accept them. '' All right, ? ' he said, '' I need not—'' He broke off suddenly and peered across the sandpit to jthe level stretch of grass beyond the .gate opening on to it. Surely-—yes—there was Olive herself entering the gardens! He sprang to his feet, forgetting all about the woman by his side. At that moment the girl looked round and saw him. It was but for an instant, and then, turning, she fled out of the gardens as through trying to escape some deadly enemy. , For a second or more Wheeler was too amazed to move. That the girl whom he was trying to save from the clutches of a man she admittedly detested should bolt from him as if terrified was inexplicable. What did it mean? Before she had quite reached the gate he started in pursuit, heedless of the protesting cries of the child whose sandcastle he had demolished by stepping on it in his haste. In less than a minute he had reached the gate and passed through it —only to find himself staring helplessly at the passing traffic. Olive was nowhere to be seen. CHAPTER XXA'I. THE INTERVIEW. Wheeler stood for a moment looking up and down the street, only to realise that it was hopeless io try and find Olive amidst the busy traffic of the main road. Therefore, he slowly retraced his steps determined to ask Martha for an exof the girl's extraordinary conduct. Her presence in these gardens following- upon Martha's refusal to let him into the house seemed to point tq one conclusion, and bear out the suspicion he had already formed—that Oiive was staying with the old woman in that very house. But, granting this, why had she run away from him? Grimly lie reflected that, to all outward appearances at least, he and'Treversh seemed to haVe changed places. The latter had assumed the role of protector while he, Wheeler , was the villain of the pieee^—that man to be avoided. ■.■■■.-.■■., . Still, if it did nothing else, Olive's

-"But you know ho is going to marry her?" "Yes. It was because I knew, he loved her that I said nothing to the police about the girl having visited M'Ewan's shop." • For the' fraction of a second Wheeler 's natural imperturbability deserted him, and he looked at the woman, with startled eyes. Was he to learn at last, then, the secret of Olive's strange visit to the curio shop on the night of the murder? Ever since the discovery of her: handkerchief behind the bronze Buddha he had been tortured by the though that, in some way or other, she was implicated in the crime. Despite all his efforts, however, he had been unable to get at the truth as yet. "Did you think the girl was involved in the mystery, then?" he asked, m a voice as calm and deliberate as though the answer was not of the slightest personal interest to him. "Certainly not," replied the woman, j quietly, "But had the police known I they might have questioned the girl—even shadowed her. And that," she added, naively, "might have been inconvenient to —Treversh." "I admit that it might," observed the journalist, sarcastically. Secretly, though, Martha's reply had relieved but not entirely satisfied him. Suddenly remembering that some of the cipher letters found in the secret cupboard of M'Ewan's bedroom were in Treversh's handwriting—a fact he had established by comparing them with the man's code message to Marthahe determined to try and confirm his suspicions with regard to a certain puzzling incident. ■.!■■■' i "What," he asked, "were you and Treversh doing in M'Ewan's house on the evening following the murder?" The old woman shot a keen, enquiring glance at him. Plainly she was wondering how much he knew, and whether it would be safer to tell'the truth.''She hesitated for some moments before replying, but eventually decided that lying would be tgo dangerous. "The fact is, sir," she said, "that M'Ewan was a 'fence'—a receiver l of ■stolen property. When he was • murdered my son was afraid that some' 1 of his letters would fall into the hands of the'police'and incriminate him for various jewel robberies. : I; being the old man's housekeeper, knew all about

perplexing action went far to prove that his last theory was correct, and that, so far from being forcibly' abducted and detained, she had left The Retreat, and was remaining away from it 'of her own free will. Moreover, it also showed that she had not been-dragged away from the window in M'Ewan's house, but had voluntarily tried to hide herself from Frank. ,

Surely, he reflected, it could not . that she wanted to. know what was in the secret cupboard? In what possible manner could Olive, be interested in,the, cipher papers it contained? , ' With a sigh the journalist had to admit to himself/,that all his facts only led, as. before,; to an" impasse, while the arguments and • theories they gave rise to simply resolved themselves into the hopeJess circle which invariably brought him back to his starting point. The most disquieting thought of all was that events again seemed to be leading back to his first great fear —that Olive had some personal connection with the murder, despite Martha's assertion to the contrary. '' By' jove, though-^-stay!'' he : ejaculated aloud to himself, and unconsciously suited the action to the word. x : There had suddenly flashed across his ■• memory a sentence of Martha's which, taken in conjunction with Olive's flight from him, seemed to throw a light on the problem. Full of this new idea, he hurried back to the seat where he had left Martha, only to find on arriving that she was no longer there. : ; . He was standing by the seat, wondering what he should do next, when a sound of sobbing caught his ear. Looking round in his surprise, he saw a, little boy—the one who was responsible for the erection of the sand-castle —standing by the ruins of his beautiful edifice, the knuckles of both hands stuffed into his eyes. The journalist, realising that he was the cause of all this distress, felt a pang of remorse. What was more, he could not help recognising the analogy between himself and the little chap whose sorrow was finding vent in tears. He also had erected a sand-castle, Wheeler told himself ruefully. He had been congratulating himself on the clever way in which he had built up his case against Martha and Treversh, only to have the whole of his ingenuity thrown over and trampled upon as effectually as the small boy's flimsy structure. Going up to the child, he inquired what was the matter, and for answer the boy pointed reproachfully to the now shapeless heap of sand in the pit. "I thought that was it," observed the journalist, nodding. "Well, we're both comrades in distress." The boy looked up at him wonderingly. "I've had my sand-castle toppled; over, too," continued Wheeler, "so, you see, I sympathise. Here "r—he felt, in his pocket and produced some coppers—' ' take these and buy some sweets. You 'll find ,them awfully comforting.'' The youngster ' smiled through his •! tears and took the coins with a grimy hand. : "Going to build another castle?" : "Yes, to-morrow," answered the boy. ; "Ah, so am I," observed Wheeler, and the youngster ran off happily to spend his pennies. As he made his way out of the gardens, Wheeler wished that his troubles could be disposed of as easily.

As it was, however, there was nothing much to i b'fe l done till Monday, when perhaps matters might move ; a : little* more rapidly..;. He wondered, while_ on his way Jionie, whether Treversh would really tiirti: up 'at The Rretreat, since 1 he must-'be -perfectly well acquainted with the -nature, of the charges which, were to be made against him. On the. whole, he was,strongly inclined to think that he would, for Martha v 's (! attitude seemed to show that she realised fully that it was the journalist who now .held the wliip hand. Then there w r as Frank., What had become of him? Was he still at Casterford, vainly searching for the girl who wasn't there?, There might perhaps be a telegram from him at home, giving an address, in which case it would be possible to wire him to the effect that j Olive was iri ! London. But on reaching "home Wheeler was disappointed- to find neither wire not j any sort of message from his chum, and—-'''' ' v " ' ' Good heavens!'' he exclaimed, as he thought of the supposed message from \ Olive, '' Can there have been foul play?"- :,:' ; ■ ■ ; ■ He felt that he was on the horns of a dilemma, for whatever course he pursued, the chances of error seemed equally great. question was, what ..ought lie to do in the circumstances? The answer came suddenly and from an unexpected quarter. At that moment his landlady entered the room with a note. Tearing open . the envelope, Wheeler, glanced at he foot of the en-, closure and saw that it was from Peter Holgate'. it'read as follows: " Dear* Mr Wheeler,—As Mr Trdversh: nas .returned unexpectedly from' Brighton, iwe should both be glad if: you and Mr Goring would step round to The Retreat.—Yours truly, Peter Holgate." "''"'l A grim smile stole over the journalist's face as he noticed the request that Frank should accompany him. In its ; way, it was a clever move, for he felt convinced that Treversh, at least, knew that Goring was not there, and very probably could have said exactly where he was. : In- fact, Wheeler grew more and more certain that Treversh was the instigator, if not the actual author, of the "spoof" appeal for help from Olive. "By the way, how did this note come?" he'asked, turning to the land-' lady, Who 'was, waiting as if for an' answer. ' ■''•■ '■ ! "The old gentleman next door gave f it to Mary'over the garden wall, sir," she answered. ■ . ■ ■ ■■■ > ■•'- As Mary 1 ' was the maid, it was 1 not likely that'Holgate would have made any ; verbal addition to the contents of the note, so* Phil told the landlady to tell Mr Holgate, if he was still in the' garden, that he would be round in, * ten minutes. (To be continued to-morrow.)