“FIND THIS MAN”

Te Awamutu Courier, Volume 52, Issue 3750, 1 May 1936, Page 4

“FIND THIS MAN”

AIDAN DE BRUNE

By

(The Author of “ The Dagger and Cord,” " The Shadow Crook,” “ The Unlawful Adventure,” “ The Grays Manor Mystery,” etc.)

CHAPTER XII. The girl’s heart missed a beat. She stared up at the man, unable to speak. Then she remembered what she had said in the shop the previous afternoon. She had told one of the assistants that she knew Ivy Breton. Well, she did. Who could know her as well as she knew herself ? She had said that she had been at school with her. That was true. Ivy Breton had never been at school unless accompanied by the girl whom Jack Lome knew as “ Muriel France.” “ Well ? ”

The cool tone, the level word, stiffened Ivy. She turned to face the man.

I know Miss Breton.” She turned again to her work. “I suppose your brother reported to you that he had heard me tell one of the girls that ? ” “He did,” the man answered, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “ But you have not answered my question. What do you know of Ivy Breton ? ”

“ I know Ivy Breton.” The girl’s tones were icy. “It happens—it may interest you to learn—that Miss Breton is my friend.” “A fortunate girl.” Jack’s smile broadened. “ Now, will you please tell me all you know about her ? ” “ May I ask in what way Miss Breton interests you, Mr Lome ? ” “ I went to see her yesterday.” “Is that all ? ” Ivy’s fingers were working quickly among the flowers. “ And—previous to your visit ? ” “ I had heard of her.” " Is that all you have to tell me ? ” “ Is more necessary ? ” ' “Yet you have asked me to tell you all I know of my friend ? That is rather a big order in view of the confidence you have placed in me.” “ I can assure you, Miss France, that I am asking information only for Miss Breton’s good.” “ Yet you say you called on her yesterday ? ” Ivy paused. “ Was that the first time you have met her ? ” “ Yes.” “You had no other communication with her ? ’’

“ I had telephoned her previously asking for an interview.” “ What did she reply ? ” Ivy laughed. Then, daringly: “ Did she tell you that she had always obtained flowers from ‘ Lome, florists ’ ? ” The man laughed heartily. “ She did not. I am afraid I forgot to mention the shop. That was remiss of me. A good business man never forgets a word in season—or out of it.”

“ Perhaps you mentioned something else you are interested in ? ” A quirk of mischief seized the girl’s brain, “You may have forgotten the flower shop and mentioned some other business.” “ What other business ? ” A dull flush came to the young man’s face. “ How can I possibly know 1 ” the girl laughed. “ From the manner in which you are cross-examining me shall I venture —detective ? ” An involuntary movement showed the girl that her arrow had sped true. For a moment the man did not reply. “ And—that telephone conversation was the first time you had come in contact with Miss Breton ? ” Ivy’s face was hidden by a mass of flowers. “ No—not quite.”

“Am I to know—or is it so close a secret that it cannot be mentioned in the midst of a vast, lonely banquet hall ? ”

“ Miss Breton might not like me to mention it. You see—” He flushed again.

Now Ivy blushed. She knew that he was referring to her attire on the night of the burglary. She was furious with him—and herself. With an effort she steadied.

“ Was the occasion illogical ? ”

Again she found the crevice in his armour. He turned and stared at her.

“ Miss France ”, he paused to frame his sentence—“ have you seen Miss Breton lately.? ”,

“I see.her —often” The girl was thinking of the little mirror in her bag. “ Then—she told you ? ”

“Ivy tells me everything—as you must if you want to get information from me.” “ And—if the secret is not my own 1 ” “I am sorry.”

“ That means that you will not give me the information I have asked for ? ”

The girl did not answer. What could she say ? She knew that she was beset by enemies, people who would go to extreme lengths to deprive her of whatever her godfather had left her. She must walk warily, sifting the good from the bad, as she gained in knowledge. This man had asked for her confidence—under her guise of friend of—of herself. He was asking her to be-tray-aherself. What was at the back

of his mind ? Were his intentions favourable to her Ivy Breton or not ? Yet somehow she felt that she could trust him. She could not think of him otherwise than honest. She glanced up at his grave, troubled face. Yes, he would make a nice friend. Why had not her godfather placed his photograph in the buhl box instead of that of Harold Pender ?

Again she flushed. Why had this man so much power to incommode her ? She "felt herself helpless, distrait, and weak of purpose when she was near him. She wanted to get away from things—to throw all her burdens on his shoulder—and rest.

Now she knew, and the knowledge brought the soft colour to her cheeks, a new light in her eyes. She knew that her one impulse was to trust him. Then—why should she not ? The business he was trying to probe, for dome undisclosed reason, was hers. She could do what she liked with her own affairs. There was no one on earth now to say her nay. Yet, if she spoke openly to him, told him all he wanted to know, answered his questions fully and freely —what would he thinnk of her ? If she told him everything, concealing only the one small fact—that she was -Ivy Breton and that she had obtained a situation in his shop to probe his secrets—what would he think of her ? Would he not believe that she, Muriel France, was a very poor friend to Ivy Breton.

“ Miss France ! ” Jack paused, tehn commenced again. * Miss France, will you not trust me—take my word that I mean your friend no ill ? ” The gift shook her head. “How can I ? The secret is not mine.”

The man turned abruptly and left the hall. Ivy bent to her work again, salt tears dimming her eyes. Jack had asked her to trust him, but he had not thought fit to trust her. And—and he had so much to explain. Why had he crept from her house, a thief in the night ? True, he had rescued her from another thief. But, had he ? Could she believe his statement, unsupported by any evidence ? Something told her that she could—that she must!

A few moments and she flung her thoughts from her, devoting all her mind, all her energies, to her work. The scene grew apace under her hands. Throughout the long afternoon she continued until, at last, she stood back, to gaze on a room transformed. She went to the switches, now hidden behind a bower of greenery and blooms, and threw on the lights—to find her work good. A few minutes’ work by the club attendants and the room was cleaned. Ivy went out of the door and locked it. No one was to go in there until she returned. Then she would take the head steward, and such other of the club notabilities as he should have gathered, into the room and seek their approval. She laughed slightly. She would show them much, but one thing she would still conceal. That would be revealed when she stood within the hidden bower, her fingers on the switches. She knew where the unknown would be seated. Plans of the tables had been brought to her earlier in the day. One of her last tasks had been to place the cards on the tables. Now she could go home. At her home lay the packet she had received from Harold Pender’s solicitors that day. What did it contain ? "Would she find the secret of her godfather’s fortune—the fortune she believed he intended for her—in that packet ? If it were not there, where would she find it ? (But what mattered ’he fortune—if one really existed ? She had accepted the task of finding the “ unknown ” because it had been her godfather’s desire---the last command he had laid on her. She had accomplished that task. That night she would show Harold Pender his pho-

tograph—whatever the packet he had conveyed to her contained—and demand from him the truth. He would tell her everything—she knew that now. In her hands were the means of enforcing her wishes. Mary and the car were waiting for her at the top of Masters Street. She drove Jack Lome’s car down to the shop and left a report for himi—that the work at the Union Club was finished. To the report she attached a written message asking him to be at the club at a quarter to eight that night—to meet her there. Again she added to her message, informing him that by arrangement with Mr Cantor she had locked the banquet hall and had retained the key. Then back to her car and Mary. The girls drove home almost in silence, the thought of the packet to be examined obsessing them. Dinner proved a brief meal, and then they went to the library. Mary produced the packet, and with trembling hands Ivy slit the envelope. From the envelope she drew out a mass of bulky papers. She unfolded the first, and gasped. It was a bond for one thousand pounds. She placed it on the desk and took up another—and yet another. When she had opened the last one she sat back staring at the pile of papers. She took pencil and paper, and made a rapid calculation. The pile of papers represented over one hundred and fifty thousand pounds. And in the envelope was neither letter nor message ! What was she to do ? To whom did this money belong ? She guessed that it was part of her godfather’s estate—a sum of money that he had not chosen to have lying at the bank, for sohie reason. Had he set it aside for some purpose, trusting the secret to one person—Harold Pender ? Who did it belong- to ? Certainly she had no claim on it. The solicitor had told her that the packet had been given to his client, Harold Pender, by her godfather as a charge, and unopened; that on the envelope were written instructions that in the event of his death the packet was to be placed in her hands unopened. Why had he done that ? Surely her godfather had known that the bonds and certificates had to go to his estate—that she would have no claim on them'. Even if he had desired her to have a claim on them why had he left no written message or instructions to that effect ? She could not take them, concealing their existence from everyone. She would have to hand them to Mark Kithner, and he would, when the estate was settled, pass them to Mrs Western. Had that been her godfathers intention—a test of her loyalty and honesty 1 Ivy could not believe that. No; he had intended them for her. Then—why had he not left them to her, direct ? Whatever she believed to be her godfather’s intentions he had, himself, foiled them. She could not honestly take the bonds. Yet she sat on, thinking, fingering the papers. She drew pad and pencil towards her and made a rapid computation. Some of the papers were share certificates, inscribed to her godfather. Others were bearer bonds, that could not be traced except by their numbers. But did anyone know that her godfather had possessed them ? If she gave up the certificated stock and kept the bonds she would have enough to keep herself in comfort for the rest of her days.

The temptation brought little heads of perspiration around her eyes; it damped the palms of her hands. She tried to think. Why had her godfather placed this burden on her ? Surely he had known the thoughts that would persist in her mind ? He must have known that his will stood—that under it she must, honestly, hand over the packet and its contents to his estate.

In sudden impulse she bundled the papers and thrust them into an envelope; then turned to the big safe. She epened it and thrust in the packet. “ That’s the end of that, Mary ! ” she observed quietly. ' “ I can’t take that money, can I ? ” Almost she wished that the girl would deny her, but Mary shook her head.

“ I’ll take them tp Mr Kithner tomorrow.” A choke came in the girl’s throat. “He must take them—and — and—and do the—proper thing. But —but ,it was cruel of godfather Mary. It was cruel! ”

“ Wait! ” Mary spoke suddenly.

“ Wait, Ivy ! There may be some way out for you.” “ A way out ? How 1 ” Ivy swung to face the girl. “ I think you should wait.” The elder girl spoke with deliberation. “ You see, you have the money, and nothing to show what were your godfather’s intentions. Wait a day or two, Ivy. The money came to you strangely; perhaps it will ,be followed by some message. Now go upstairs and dress. You have to be at the Union Club under the hour, dear.”