WHO PAID THE DEBT ?

Taranaki Daily News, 27 October 1932, Page 13

WHO PAID THE DEBT ?

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CHAPTER V.—(Continued.), “The police always try to reconstruct a crime,” she said, “let me try and reconstruct this for you. I think that the man-servant you speak of must have had a grudge against the murdered man, that he decoyed him to the house on some pretext and there put an end to him. The Professor had no doubt been manoeuvred off. the scene previously and when Miss Deniston went in he was waiting to gag her and get her out of the way. The handkerchief had been prepared to throw the suspicion on her shoulders., What do you say to that theory?” “WeH, there is a good deal In it that sounds feasible. But it does not touch the main point—how did she get out of the house?” He sprang up suddenly, a wild look la his eyes. "She did not get out of it! She' must be there, lying unconscious in some corner that they have not looked in—she will come to her senses in the night—be driven mad with terror 1 What am I doing here? I must go back this instant!”' But Mrs North had had instructions from her husband that this could not be; the police were in charge of the house and would admit no one that night, and If he went in his present overwrought state and was denied admittance, the consequences might be disastrous to him. "Even if she should be in the house, she is not alone,” she said. “Mr North says that the detectives will not leave the place for a moment. To-morrow, no doubt——” She stopped there, for Daryl flung out.- his arms with a frenzied cry—“l must go! I must! This is torturing me—killing me ” His eyes closed, his face went deathly white, and with a stifled moan he fell on the floor at her feet. < ' CHAPTER VII. ' “I suppose he can’t be guilty after all?” Daryl was in bed now, slumbering heavily from the effects of a sedative. “A clear case of exhaustion from shock,” said the doctor whom Mr North had called in, “he will be a different being when he has had a tenhours’ sleep.” It was not to the doctor that Mr North put the question about Daryl’s possible guilt, but to his wife. They were silting by the fire in her bedroom, with the : door open so that, they could hear if there was any sound in the room across the passage—two Good Samaritans watching over the stricken man/Whom they had picked up; on life’s highway. "No, he is not guilty,” said Mrs North, quietly. “What made .you think so?” ■ ;

f‘l did not say that I thought so, I asked what you thought.” “Yes, but why should the idea have eome into your head? You told me that the taxi-driver’s evidence settled the matter with the Jury.” “It did, and their verdict finished the ease as far as the Inquest is concerned; but the 'police will not let the matter drop there, they are hard at work now trying to identify the murdered man and to trace the four fugitives.” J “I know, but that does not tell me why you suggest that Mr Stanford may be guilty.”

Mrs North, was the most feminine of . women, but her husband had the very greatest respect for her mental powers and frequently asked her opinion on knotty points. He had planned to'" leave her alone with their guest that he might ask her afterwards what she thought of him, but Daryl’s collapse and the doctor’s visit had given him no chance until now. “Well, I will tell you," he said slowly, “I was strongly in favour of him when I first saw him. You can guess why,” he added, in a voice that was not quite steady. “Yes, I know. He has a look of Keith; I saw it directly." They were both silent for a minute, but he cleared his throat and went on.

"Well, then came his extraordinary tale, and I felt myself swinging round against him —people don’t melt away Into thin air like that and I had no doubt that he committed the murder and made up the story to screen himself when he was taken to the Police Station. And then, just as I had made up my mind as to that, the taxi-driver appears on the scene and the story is corroborated atfer all." “And yet you doubt him?"

“Yes, because as I said just now, people don’t disappear Into thin air. It was twelve o’clock when they reached the house and a few minutes past one when the policeman saw him getting out of the window, so that there was ample time for the deed to bo done and for the girl to make her escape—she may have very easily got through the window with his help, and if the man had come along a few ■ minutes later he, too, would have been out of sight. That Is how It strikes me, but I want to know how it strikes you.” "I think that you are wrong,” was her prompt reply. “If the girl was an accomplice he would have been as anxious to keep her name out of it as his own and he would never have put the handkerchief there. No, whatever the debt was, it was not he who paid it.” He sat pondering her words awhile and then nodded his head emphatically.

“Yes, yes, you’re right,” he said, “I did not take the handkerchief Into account. You ought to be on the bench, Dora, there is not a judge among them' who has half your bralns.”

She loved his flaterlng speeches, even though she did not believe them; but to this flattering spech she only responded with a sigh. "I wish I had brains enough to find out what became of the girl,” she said, “that Is a bigger mystery than the murder. Mr Stanford is convinced that she is still somewhere in the house.”

“Well, he must be allowed to look for her If It is the only way of satisfying him. But that won’t be to-morrow, or the next day either. And now you must go to bed; I shall lie down on the sofa in his room so as to keep an eye on him.”

But Daryl slept unbrokenly all through the night, and Mr North slipped quietly out of the room when morning came, and went to report to “Vcnan just •» there was a B “ rp ,” s f Vlo bl's North when he went back for to ms astonishment Daryl was P “m perfectly well." he 1 am very much ashamedlo * „ %’s a s \‘ “

MARY BRADFORD WHITING

glanced at him admiringly more than I oncb as he sat dppositFtb her at the breakfast table; his figure was so upright and well-knit his head so firmly set on his shoulders, his expression so frank and open—how could anyone imagine for a moment that he was guilty? She wished with all her heart that he had never become entangled in so tragic a mystery, but to .say so was useless, and when he baae her good-bye she contented herself with telling him that there would always be a welcome for him when he cared to come and see them. “I shall be only too thankful to come,” he said, “I shall always remember your kindness as long as I live, and I only wish there was anything I could do for you in return. "There is something that you can do for me,” she said. “Take ma with you when you go to Harlow Gardens. Mr North has written a note for you to give to the detectives, and he can ask for admission for me. I have a feeling that between us we might nna some, clue.” t Daryl was glad enough of her conipany.. for he dreaded seeing the house again more than he could say.. There were chrious eyes upon them as they walked up the street, for with •the morbid interest that a murder always arouses, a little group of idlers were staring at the house, and one or two pressmen with their cameras were taking photographs of it for their papers. ' A ring at the bell brought one of the detectives to the door, and, recognising Daryl, he let them come inside while he opened Mr North’s note. “Oh, yes, certainly," he said when he had read it, “only, of course, you understand that we must keep you J sight while you are here.” But to that Doryl had no objection. “I know you have looked everywhere,"- he said “but I can’t help wanting to look again myself.” . That was natural enough, the detective thought, and he went with them Into one room after anotner, opening cupboard doors, moving furniture and turning the light of tho lamp he carried into all the dark corners. . . Bedrooms, -sitting-rooms, and basement were all thoroughly explored, and though Daryl hesitated to take Mrs North into the fateful conservatory she insis’ted on seeing the place where the murdered man had been found — empty now, except for some old boxes and other lumber. “Is that a cuDboard under the stairs?” she asked, as they came back into the hall again. “Nothing there but some palls and brushes and things of that .sort,” said the detective.

He opened the door as he spoke, and held the lamp for her to look in. “No room there for anyone to hide,” he remarked blandly, but she paid ne heed to" him

- “What kind of a dress was Miss Deniston wearing?’’ she asked, turning to Daryl. “A pale blue silk dress, with a darker blue silk cloak over it," he said wonderingly, “why do you ask?" “Look!" was her answer, and taking the lamp from the man’s hand she set it down on the floor.

“This is not a solid wall, it Is a panel that shifts, for here is a shred ot dafk blue silk caught underneath. It was through this wall that she made her escape,” CHAPTER VII.

“Quick! Quick! for heaven’s sake!” A fierce frenzy possessed Daryl, for in his mind’s eye he saw Enid’s helpless form huddled In a niche behind the wall; it was no escape, as Mrs North imagined, it was another murder. Or perhaps she was only gagged and bound, thrust into hiding, to be out of the way. “Quick! Quick!" He seemed almost beside himself as he snatched up the piece of silk and tried to Insert his fingers under the panel. The second detective was on the spot by this time in answer to a call from his companion, and the two men inspected the shred with critical eyes. That an amateur, and a woman at that, had found a clue that they had missed, was distinctly galling, and they would have been glad if they could have pronounced it to be green cloth, or fed serge, or black velvet, anything, intact, but blue silk. Blue silk, however, it remained, and blue silk that had evidently been torn from a cloak, for a scrap of shot silk lining still adhered to it. “That’s for the Chief, along with the handkerchief,” said the senior detective, as he stowed it away carefully in his wallet, his companion answered him with a significant look; Daryl having been cleared another criminal must be found, and that it should prove to !be his sweetheart added fresh interest to the case. But no idea of tracking the murderer was in Daryl’s mind, his only thought -was of Enid’s rescue, and finding that he could nbt move the panel he beat upon it with his bare hands as if he would burst it through. “ Now, then, that’s no usel” said the detective, laying hold of him. “Just leave it to us, we’ve got some tools here that will do the trick.” To leave it to anyone else was gall and wormwool to Daryl, but he had no choice but to submit, and since the cupboard was too small for more than two people to be in at once, he followed Mrs North into the passage and stood looking with clenched hands and locked teeth while the two men made a careful examination of the wall by the light of the lamp. “Yes, it’s a panel, right enough,” said the detective, “but Of course, it may be fastened on the other side. Give me hold of that screwdriver, Bob, and you take the other." The ■screwdrivers were long and strong, and going down on their knees the two men inserted them between the floor and the panel and used them as levers.

“It moved a bit —I felt It!” cried one. “A shade more and we shall get pur fingers in. Now then, lift!”

Their muscles almost cracked under the strain, but the panel was yielding, there was no doubt of it; another effort, and there was space enough for their hands, and exerting all their strength they raised it as high as their knees. “ Once more I ”

Again they lifted; it was as high' as their waists now and Daryl could: be restrained no longer. “Let me go first 1 She will know my voice even if she has been blindfolded!” he said, and again the men exchanged a significant look. Was it possible (that this most guileless young man did not realise that the finding of his sweetheart would mean her arrest? •But that was not- their business. Sleuth hounds, as Mr North had called them, they were hot on the scent, and they would dearly have liked to shut the door on Daryl and Mrs North and followed it alone. Nothing short of actual force, however, would have held Daryl backend since it vyas

Mrs. North who had hit . upon the clue, it would have feeen ungenerous to deny her a share in the search.

“,Put the lamp through first,” said the’elder detective, ‘.‘there may be a big drop on the other side.” But there was no> drop.- The lamp revealed a cupboard exactly similar to the one in which they stood and it was clear that this was a secret way of entrance into the empty house next door. Another minute and they had all four crept under the panel and were through the cupboard and out into the hall.

Since Enid was not behind the panel she must have been carried into one of the rooms. That was Daryl’s thought, and dashing on ahead, he flung -open one door after another, his footsteps echoing loudly on the uncarpeted floors. “He won’t find her, though,” said the detective. “We got the key from the agent this morning and had a look round.”

It was on the tip bf Mrs North’s tongue to say: “You looked round the other house, but you did not find the shred of silk! ” She did not say it, however, for nothing would be gained by crowing over them. They could hear Daryl thundering about overhead, but she did not follow him—-a shred of silk might be missed, but a . human being was another matter and in an empty house there could be few hiding places. It was not l&ng, in fact, before they saw him coming down the stairs, a look.of absolute dejection on his face. “ But we haven't searched the basement yet," he said, before anyone could utter a word. “ Bring the lamp. There may be all sorts of dark corners down below.” There were dark coders; plenty of them, but there were no signs of life in them, not even a solitary black beetle, and even Daryl was convinced that it was.useless to look any more. “It Is not as if they could have come out' of either bf the doors that open into the street,” he said moodily. “ I must have seen them while I was trying to get into the other house.” “ Unless they waited till you had got in and then let themselves out,” said Mrs North. But he shobk his head at the idea. “ They wouldn’t risk that,” he said. “ They would have been afraid that the commotion I was making would have brought people out to 'see what was the matter.” They! Mrs North wondered much who “they" might be; not that it mattered much, the point was not who “thfey” might be, but where “they” were. And then, as they turned to go up the kitchen stairs again, one of the detectives stood still suddenly like a pointing dog. “Is there a Window like that in the other house,. Bob?” he asked. Bob measured it carefully with his eye. “No,” was his decision, "only a fanlight.” “And the catch isn’t fastened!” exclaimed Daryl. “Quick! Up with it!” His hand was on the sash as he spoke; it went up with a touch, and pressing eagerly forward they all looked out.

There was a narrow alley at the back of the 'houses, an alley with a high blank wall on the further side—a deserted place, for since the area doors opened into tba front there were no entrances on this side. From the back of No. 14 there was no means of exit, for the fanlight at the end of the passage was too high and narrow; but in No. 13 the fanlight had been replaced by a window with panes of ground glass, not so far from the street as to make it an impossible escape. . The detective nodded his head as he examined It. “Now we’ve got the track of them, he said. “Into the cupboard, through the panel, out on the other side, down the stairs, and through the window —• pushed the sash down, but couldn’t lock it from the outside. It’s a bad job, though that they came out into this backwater — ; if it had been a thoroughfare, someone would have been bound to set eyes on them. Still, we’ve got 'Some way on the track of their flight, and the first step, is the hardest step in a case like this.” Each word of his speech fell like a stone upon Daryl’s heart; Enid was not dead, she was not bound and helpless, her disappearance was a flight, and it is the guilty Who flee from the/r pursuers. He made no answer, nor did he utter a word while the younger detective scrambled through the ■window and back again, assuring Mrs North that it was a feat that any lady could do who had the use of her limbs

He could not speak, he could not even think, for before his eyes he saw the handkerchief with Enid’s name embroidered in the corner, and below if the words —The Debt is Paid.

CHAPTER IX. Why had he insisted on making that second search? That was the quesr lion that tortured Daryl. Enid was not guilty—r—nothing .and no one should ever make him believe it; .but now that the fact of her flight was established he knew that nothing and no one would ever persuade the authorities of her innocence.

“But she didn’t do it—she didn’t!” he said obstinately, . as he and Mrs North made their way to the Police Station in company with the elder detective. j

If the man heard the words, he took no notice, but Mrs North felt a wave of pity; she knew what an ordeal this must be for Daryl, but she knew also that there was no way of escaping it; The Inspector was in charge of the case, and he listened to this fresh story in judicial silence.

“You recognise this as a piece of Miss Deniston’s cloak?” he asked, when he had heard it to the end. The shred of silk lay on the desk before him, and as he spoke he took up a powerful magnifying glass and scrutinised it closely.

“Yes.” j The brief monosyllable was all that Daryl could bring himself to utter; each mention of the cloak brought back too painfully the remembrance of their playful squabble over the merits of the velvet and the silk—a squabble closed with how tender a caress! “Now I am going to ask you to identify something else,” said the Inspector, and opening a door behind him he went through into a back room.

Daryl’s heart stood still—they had found her! He should be called upon to look at her dead face, her dear face that had felt so soft and sweet under his kisses. He trembled so that he could scarcely stand, but in another moment the Inspector was back again, and in his hand he carried a small paraffin lamp. “Do you know this?” he asked, as he set it down in front of Daryl. It was a very ordinary lamp, of the common type that is used in thousands of households, and Daryl shook his head. How could he possibly identify such a thing? “You have never seen It in Professor Deniston’s house?” “Not to my knowledge. There were gas-burners in the hall and in all the sitting-rooms, and I was never upstairs or in the basement until yesterday." The Inspector considered a moment. “You said in your evidence that there was a light in the hall when Miss Deniston went in—rwlll you swear that the light came from a gas-burner and not from a lamp?” Daryl’s eyes met his frankly. “How could I possibly swear that?” he asked. “I only saw the gleam of the light as the door opened. I have never seen such a lamp used, but since I found that the gas had been turned off the meter it may very likely have been standing in the hall. Only then ” He paused. It was not for him to start theories. t “Now listen to me for a moment,” said the Inspector. “This lamp corroborates the fresh evidence that you have just given—evidence that we owe to this lady's astuteness.” He made a little complimentary bow to Mrs North as he spoke, thereby exasperating the detective. “The passage at the back of the houses is a cul de sac, and very few people ever go into it; but there is a solitary gas lamp there, and when the lamplighter went to put it out early this morning he saw something under this window that you speak of. It was a lamp, lying on its side, with the chimney broken, as you see; he had never found anything of ■the kind there before, and, having heard of the murder he very properly brought it round at once to the station. As soon as I saw it I knew that we should hear something more.” There was a quiet exultation in his voice that set Daryl’s nerves on edge. “Why should It have anything to do with the murder?” ne demanded. “Because it has a good deal to do with it,” was the sharp retort. “To get through the empty house and out of the window in pitch darkness would have been impossible, and the wise plan would have been to carry a candle and pocket it afterwards; but in every crime there is some blunder, only the blunders sometimes go undetected.” “But a lamp like this cannot possibly be identifledi’2_jpersjsted_Daryl_; “there

is probably one in every house in the neighbourhood." “No doubt; but this lamp Is evidently a new one, and it It was not to be identified It should have been more carefully examined. Look here.” He turned it over as he spoke, and showed a small label stuck on the bottom.- , ~ “Here Is the price still sticking to it, and on the label are the printed words —Enget’s Dom." “Well, that means nothing,” said Daryl Impatiently. "Nothing to you, perhaps, but. it means a good deal to us. This piece has been tom off a larger label, as you will sea by looking at it closely, and P.G. Brown, who knows every inch of this neighbourhood, tells me that Enget’s Domestic Stores is next door to the shop where the Professor used to go for his papers. We have been making inquiries this morning, and though Enget himself seems to be a dense person who knows nothing about anything, Harris, at the newspaper shop, says that ha remembers the manservant coming in one day last week with a lamp in his hand. He had been given no paper to wrap it in, and he asked Harris to let him have a piece, as he was afraid of getting the glass scratched. There is always some blunder in every crime, as I said just now.” Again that quiet exultation in his tone, but Daryl’s brain was working too busily this time to notice it. “Then it is Wilkins who is guilty!" he said. The Inspector shrugged his shoulders. “That we shall know presently,” he said. "What we have to do now is to find all the four inhabitants of the house. The fact that Wilkins bought the lamp and carried it home does not show that he had a grudge against anyone. Besides, he seems to have told one or two people that he and his wife were going for the weekend to some friends in the country. Did not Miss Deniston tell you that they were away?” “No; she hardly ever mentioned the servants. I have a general idea that they did their work well, but that is really all that f know about them.” “Had they been there long?”

(To bo Continued.)