The House in the Way

Taranaki Daily News, 11 September 1935, Page 13

The House in the Way

By

Colin Hope

Author of the “ Phantom Killer.”

CHAPTER EIGHT. THE LOCKED ROOM. About an hour later Chichester descended from a ’bus in the outskirts of Croydon and strolled to a delightfully rural cottage at the end of a lane that .mjght easily have been deep in the heart of the country. He knocked, but did not await a reply, letting -himself in with his latchkey. The girl who met him in the hall, too, might easily have been a product of the countryside. Young—hardly twenty, in fact—attractive without being actually good-looking; and full of that indefinable quality that we call virility, she made a picture that would cheer the heart of a misogynist. “Why, it’s Uncle Guy,” she exclaimed with pleasure. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? There’s nothing in the house, and I am all alone.” “All alone!” Chichester echoed. “Where is Asher?” This although he had -written to Asher, the girl's man-of all-work, and instructed him to find an excuse to absent himself for the day. “Oh, he has' gone' up to London. A sister of his is seeing about a new baby or something, and he begged the day off.” “I never knew the old reprobate had a sister—or any relatives for that “I don’t think 'he has but he was so insistent that he must go, and as you know, he is an impossible person to argue with.” Chichester agreed and <|fter he had shed his coat, the girl led the way into the cosy sitting-room which faced out on to a beautifully-kept garden at the front of the cottage. Being a woman, "the girl was-a little perturbed because heir uncle had chosen to visit her at a time when, being alone, she had prepared no* proper meal and could only offer cold' food. This did not worry Guy, and after he had made a good meal he got dpwp to the maw purpose of his visit. Diana Thornton shared many of’ her uncle’s secrets. Her parents had been abroad for years—her father was a teaplanter—and because the girl’s health had been delicate it was found necessary that she should return to England, and Guy had accepted the responsibility of keeping an eye on her. He had found for her an ideal major domo in the person of “old” Asher (if he ever had a, Christian name 'it had been lost years before), and this old soldier, assisted by a woman who was miscalled a cook, looked after Diana and both thoroughly loved their job. The two of them had long ceased to regard themselves as hired servants; Diana was as their own child and to her they were almost parents. Guy had done his voluntary job very well indeed. His imprisonment had made tilings difficult, but Diana h?d strenuously refused to accept the judgment of twelve good men and true, arid when he was released from prison he had taken up his guardianship as if nothing had happened, and,’ by common consent, nothing of the affair was mentioned by either of them. “You have got to give up this cottage, Diana,” Guy said when the meal was cleared away. “Not altogether, df course, but for the You have got to disappear.” This strange order did not unduly startle the girl.. “Doesn’t sound very attractive,” she answered. “I don’t want tb leave the cottage, -and old-Asher wilt mpt„ Jiear. of it. He has just planted the', potatoes and sown the onions. You won’t persuade him to leave his garden. But why do you want me to go?” '.' "Asher need not leaye the garden. He can stay and Mrs. fJirig can do hex’ best to rixjn his digestion. It is only you who must' go.” “But why? Arid where can I go?” "Let us take one question at a time. The reason you must go is because I fear that if you stay here some 'harm may corne to you . . .” ' “But why? What have I done?” The girl really was Startled. ' “It isn’t what you have done,” Chichester was serious. "I am the cause of all the bother. "I have told you something of my troubles; some day I Way be able to tell you more; ,hut for the .present I can only tell you' that I am working against a pretty . stiff combination—a gang.

“I know that sounds melodramatic, but it is none the less true. 'Without going into details, I can say that there are half-a-dozen men who would dapce with joy over my grave, arid they have almost unlimited resources, iso my chance of survival isn’t rosy.'

“They are not' too; keen on. murder. They know it attracts too much attention, and they are not likely tp kill nip unless they think it is perfectly safe to do so.” “But whefe do I come in?” Diana asked. “Do you think they, might try to get at you through me?” . ' “That’s just it. I thirik they know all about you and how much attached to you I am. It is quite likely that they might see possibilities in you, either to lure me out of their way while they carry on with their business, or else hold you as a hostage.” “You mean—kidnap me?” “Quite possibly.”

It was typical of the girl that she accepted the. position, without a tremor. Certainly she was affected, but it was hard to say that she was afraid. Rathet, she seemed thrilled.. “I don’t think I need, run away, Uncle Guy. I have Asher and Mrs. Bing to look after me. All you need to do is to get me a small revolver and a license, and leave me to look after myself. I am not afraid of any gang.” “I expected you would take it like that,” Chichester said, admiringly, “but there is another point of view—mine. “I have accepted responsibility for you, and your parents rely on me for your safe keeping. This little war in which I am engaged involves a certain amount of danger, and it is my duty to see that no harm comes to you. Besides, all the , time you stay here, inadequately guarded, I am worried about you, and my attention is not all on my main job of work.” . When it was put that she would be helping Chichester by moving, th h place of greater safety, Diana immediately fell in with thd suggestion. ' ■“Very good, unde,".l wquld do anything" 'to help ' ybu, but of all I want you tp meet JaiJk. He some suggestions to make.” , *" ' “Jack. 'Wh'o' is lt wa? ChL Chester's turri to asj? questions'.'' “Of'course,' ypu' don’t'knew yet. If you had hot Wh an .excjtmg stpry to tell,'' ypu' would have learned all about Tip# by. now.' Jack Osbdtrie' i£— well—almost my“ fiance.” " ■'' Chichester was n6t anxious ,to share his secret with one who was—well—plmost Diana’s fiance, arid he did not hesitate 'to say so. There v w&s no pretence between him and his riiece.

“Oh, but you don’t know Jack,” Diana laughed. “He is dreadfully serious. None of your ‘bright young things’ about Jack. He spends every minute of his spare time trying to invent a motor that ...”

The girl stopped when she saw the keen interest in Guy’s face. “Oh, well,

I may as well tell you now I have got so fax-,” she continued. “He has succeeded. His motor is to' be demonstrated next week!” “Just the man I am looking for,” Chichester cried. “Where does he live? Take me to him at once.” Jack Osborne lived but half-a-mile from Diana’s cottage, and soon the pair, followed by Chichester’s two shadows, arrived at 36, Naylox - Road, the young inventor’s home. Osborne’s landlady looked very worried when she admitted the pair. "Oh, I am so glad you have come, Miss Thornton,” she said, “I am worried about Mr. Osborne.” “Worried? Why?”

“Well, perhaps I shouldn’t worry. He often shuts himself up in his room for hours when he is busy, but what worries me is that I haven't heard him move all day. I don’t know what to do.”

She was obviously a very highly-strung woman who would never think of doing the obvious thing, and the girl, followed by Guy, pushed past her and went to the young man’s room. Repeated calling produced no result, and Guy asked the landlady if she was certain that Osborne was in the room. Receiving an affirmative answer, he bent to the keyhole, but could see nothing out of place. Diana was getting worried. "Break the door down, uncle," she urged. ' “I will pay for the damage.” Easier said'than done. The door was stout and tire locks held. At last Guy gave up the hopeless task. He went down oh his hands and knees and tried to see under the door. Then it was that he saw something that caused him to get up and hurry the women downstairs. Under- the door he had seen the faintest trickle of blood. CHAPTER NINE. THE STOLEN INVENTION. The landlady was inclined to be hysterical, and Guy looked for no assistance from her, but cast about for a weapon to attack the door and soon found a hefty axe in the coal shed. A few shrewd blows smashed the lock and he entered the room. He was surprised that there was not any great disorder. ' There was no sign of a struggle, but the man stretched unconscious on the floor was evidence eriough that there had been foul work in the room.

The blood that Guy had seen from outside the door flowed in a thin stream from a wound at the back of Osborne’s head. The man was still breathing regularly and Chichester was relieved when an examination of his head showed that no great damage had been done. He looked up from his task and gazed into, the horror-stricken eyes of his niece.

“It is all right, Diana,” he said gently. “He has had a nasty crack, but he will soon come round. I am afraid that I am not doctor enough to say definitely that there is no concussion, but I don’t think there is. Just ask the landlady for some hot water, so that we can bathe the wound and see whet damage has been done.

"Things usually look pretty bad when there is a lot of- blood about, but after the mess is cleared awpy, one is surprised how small the actual wound really is.” Although he did not think Jack was badly hurt, he was not at all convinced that the damage was as slight as he woxild have the girl’ believe. He was making light of the occurrence for her benefit, but he soon realised that his efforts were of no avail.

The girl returned with the water and knelf down to attend to the wound. “You are ti-yihg to make things easy for me, Uncle Guy,” she said, “but you are not deceiving me. I know he has had a very bad knock, but there is not the slightest risk "of my giving way to hysterics. I know that won’t help a bit'. "

"Don’t you think we had better call a doctor or an ambulance? Surely we should get Jack to hospital.” Guy did not answer directly. When he did, his tone was grave. “Honestly, I don’t know what to do,” he said. “The logical and obvious thing to do is to get him somewhere where he can receive proper attention, but in the circumstances, is it wise? Would he desire it himself?

“I don’t know all about this invention pf his, of course. In fact I dprit know anything about it, except that it'has something to do wjth motors. I can guess, a' little, however,' and I dori’t thipk I am far wrong when I guess that Jack is very anxious to keep this thing secret. Isn’t that so?” Diana, nodded. “Yes, you are right. But his life is more important than the motor*” “More important, yes, but supposing his life is not really in danger, is it to' his interests that we let this business be broadcast? Just imagine the headlines in alt the morning newspapers tomorrow: Young Inventor Attacked. Mysterious Crime in Croydon! The police are investigating a mysterious crime that was committed at Crbydon in the early hours of yesterday morning . . . etc. . . . etc. “And, of course, the local newspaper will give columns to the case. You will find yourself famous as the fiancee of the wounded man. Your photograph will appear with Jack’s in all the popular newspapers and a picture of the room where the crime was committed Will be on the same page—probably immediately below a picture of Hollywood’s latest divorcee. “Both you and Jack will be notorious. You will be overwhelmed with publicity —but with little else. After it is all over and no trace has been found of the missing model, or plans, you will become your ordinary self once again and Jack will return to his everyday job as . . .” “An invoice clerk,” Diana supplemented. , “An invoice clerk. Yes, that’s all I am/ now.” / The two turned, startled, to the n/an on the floor. His eyes were open fend he was struggling to rise. Dnana hastened to restrain him. r ' “Lie still,!’ she commanded. (‘You niugn’t move, yet.” / "But I must,” Osborne protester}., his determination lending ' him strength; ‘T must get up. The police mii’-t be called- They have taken my modibl. I am ruined—copdemped to a lifer • with nothing’ to look forward to but inivoices. Oh, my. God!” , ' " ’ •, He had' taken little notice of /Guy. and: the latter, experienced in the/ ways of 'meh—and womeh—under the j stress of great' emergency or. great, was'content that it should be/so. At last he judged it time to sjeak. “I know it is almost useless\ to tell you to lie still and be calm,” h-0 began. "I know how you feel . . I “You don’t. You can't. NoboXly can know how I feel. Five years’ ' work gone—stolen. And then you saj you know how I feel.” \ “Yes,” Chichester repeated. “1 kno'*y exactly how you feel. Now listen. .’ want to have a serious talk with you.” I (To be continued). '