STRANGE ABSENCE

Star (Christchurch), Volume LXIV, Issue 931, 29 November 1933, Page 12

STRANGE ABSENCE

Author of “The Dividing Years,’ 1 and “Guarded Watch.”

By

ALLYN SLOAN,

CHAPTER VI. Police Called In. Leaning back in her chair, Helen Gorst wondered what was wrong with this day. A few hours ago she had been peacefully picking flowers in her garden, in it as she loved to do, moving slowly in the sunshine completely at peace with the world, except for feeling sorry that the nice Graham girl had gone. She had so admired her loyalty to that hopeless brother of hers, and very much wished that Jean could have' paid her a visit before going home. And here was her wish fulfilled, but how tragically. She thought of the girl upstairs, and frowned. It was strange. But seeing Geoffrey Winton crossing the garden towards her, Helen waved. “Come to inquire?” she asked. “Er —yes,” he stammered, uncomfortably aware that lie had not given Jean Graham a thought since he had seen his wife. ‘'How is she?” “Conscious now. Not very happy, of course, but as well as may be expected.” “O. And—er —what about lier orother V* Mrs. Gorst shrugged lier shoulders. ‘‘l’ve heard nothing. Jerry went off with the police to show them the place where he found Jean. I'm expecting him back at any moment.” “O.” Helen looked sharply at her visitor. “What’s the matter, Geoffrey ?” Winton moved restlessly and jerked unconvincingly. “Nothing specially.” Helen raised her eyebrows, but said: “Have a or arette.” ‘'Thanks.” Winton helped himself, then, as if he c0..1d not help it, blurted out: “I told Doreen, and she war terribly jp.%t. Can’t make it out.” “O.” Helen thought it strange, too, but she commented: “It’s only natural. After all, they were her guests.” “What d’vuu think happened?” he asked suddenly. “I can’t imagine. It looks as if Jean were driving, and yet—” she broke off helplessly. “Graham was at the wheel when they left us,” Winton asserted. “It seems queer that Grant did not see him.” A smile of quiet amusement lit up Helen’s pleasant face. “I think he was too—too concerned at Jean’s condition to bother much.” “Uni. Hullo, here he is.” Both looked up as rather breathlessly Grant hurried towards them. “How is she?” the young man asked immediately. Helen repeated what she had said to Winton. “Now tell me,” she added. “What did you learn from the police ” Grant sat down. “The smash had already been reported when I got there. They made an examination, wrote notes about it and all that, then v.e came back.” “Yes, but what of the brother?” Winton insisted. Grant shook his head. “The police sa* that lie could not have been there. Miss Graham must have been driving herself.” “But she wasn’t,” Winton exploded, hia face becoming scarlet as he glared at Grant. Watching them, Helen wondered wha.t was wrong with Geoffrey. But she said calruly: “Jean’s first conscious word* werg of her brother.” “You mean that he vai there?” asked both men t »gether. Helen nodded. “I haven’t told her that Euan is missing, of course.” “Good Lord!” Grant stared blankly. Then, after a oioment’a thought, he said: “Mrs. Gorst, don’t you think the police should be informed that Graham really was there?” Helen agreed that she must take immediate steps. “I can’t believe that he has really disappeared. It’s too absurd,” she said. “Still, I wonder if you would come with me to the Prefecture?” “Rather!” Grant sprang up, saying urgently: “We must waste no time!” CHAPTER VII. Is Euan In Hospital? Three days passed, and still there was no news of the whereabouts of Euan Graham. All manner of inquiries were made by the police, who had been astonished, although convinced by Helen Gorst’s statement—corroborated later that evening by Geoffrey Winton—that Euan had been in the car when they had started out. “It would seem M. Graham was rescued by eoiue persons at present uuknown, and he will be located in a hospital or a villa. We will find him very soon, have no doubt, madame,” the commissary had assured them confidently. That had seemed reasonable, even likely, to Helen, but Grant had objected. “Why should they have taken Mr. Graham and left mademoiselle?” “Ah—” The Frenchman’s shoulders mounted up to his ears, and he spread out his hands in a typically Latin gesture. “Who can tell?” Helen found herself sorely perturbed. It was all so incomprehensible. How could Euan have disappeared? It was useless, however, even to think about it. Everything possible was being done, and she could ouly wait and hope. Meanwhile she was busy, for the accident had been reported in the Press, and there were many inquiries from acquaintances and the merely curious; also many offerings of flowers. One of the finest of these bore the name of Baron Max de La urier, which puzzled Helen not a little, for although Jean had not been expansive about those whom she had met at the Wintons, Helen knew that she had not liked him. In the afternoon, Doreen strolled in, taking Helen unawares as she sat at her table writing to cancel several engagements which she had made for the coming week. JShe was as usual somewhat exaggeratedly dressed, and Helen fancied that she looked as if she had passed a sleepless night. “My dear. What a time you’re having,” slie said in her harsh drawl. “I hope you didn’t mind my keeping Jean?” asked Helen, smiling inwardly, because she was sure that there was nothing that Doreen Winton would dislike more than to have a sick girl in the house. “Of course not. I think it too marvellous of you. May 1 have a cig.?” “Do.” Helen passed the box, remarking: “I am very fond of Jean.” “By the way—” Doreen paused to light her cigarette—“lias anything been heard of Kuan?” The words were just too carelessly spoken, Helen thought, then immediately told herself not to be ridiculous. If per-

chance Doreen and the boy had been more than friends it was none of her business. “Nothing; the police arc still searching. You have no idea what might have happened, I suppose?” “I?” Laughing harshly, Doreen raised her eyebrows. “Of course I haven’t. The police came up and asked us a thousand and one questions this morning, as if we could know anything.” “Well, it’s natural, as you were the last person to see them. By the way, you don’t know if they stopped anywhere in Monte after leaving you?” “No. The police asked us that. Hasn’t Joan said anything?” ‘ : No. She’s hardly spoken vet.’* Doreen gave her a look which she could not interpret, then abruptly changed the subject. “Mv dear, I nearly folgot. Will you come over and dine to-morrow? The Alwvns are coming, and they’d love to Helen declined, saying that she would not be going out until Jean was better. “My dear, what nonsense!” Evidently Doreen was much put out. “You can’t stay cooped up here because a practi—” Helen interrupted with a laugh. “I’m not at all cooped up, thank you, I’ve five rooms, a loggia and a large garden.” Doreen shrugged lier shoulders and moved towards the door. “You might let me know what happens,” she said, and went out. CHAPTER VIII. Rivaux Investigates. Still there was no news of Euan Graham, and a few days later M. Rivaux, of the Surete, called by appointment to see Mrs. Gorst. Grant, his friend Dan Washburn, and the M intons, as persons concerned, were also present. Rivaux was a round, pompous little man, yellow of complexion, whom Washburn disrespectfuly described as looking like the canary after it had 'eaten the cat—triumphant, but over-full. He seated himself where lie could see everyone, glanced at some notes in liis hand, then gave each of them a long penetrating look. “Hope he’s not going to say grace,” whispered Grant. In reply, Washburn recited beneath his breath : “In all that we’re going to say, Lord make us very careful.” The examination opened by Rivaux shooting a somewhat peculiar remark at Helen Gorst. “It is a great pity that Mademoiselle Gra’am will not tell us anything.” “It is not that she will not, monsieur,’ corrected Helen. “But she is not well enough yet to be worried with questions, especially on such an unpleasant subject.” “Olio?” Rivaux took lier up sharply. “Is the recovery of her brother an unpleasant subject then?” “Certainly not, blit Miss Graham docs not know that lier brother is missing.” “Does Mademoiselle not ask news of her brother? That is a little strange, is it not?” “Of course Miss Graham has asked of her brother,” Helen explained patiently. “Her first conscious words were of him, but Doctor Thomas says it is most important that she should not worry. I could not therefore tell her that lio was missing.” Rivaux regarded Helen a moment, then asked: “And what bav* you told her, Madame ?” “I said that Mr. Graham was in hospital in Nice.” A silence followed whilst Rivaux consulted the paper in his hand. Suddenly lie looked up. “What kind of a young gentleman was this M. Gra’am?” “I guess he was a swell guy,” came laconically from Washburn. “Un ‘svell guy’? Wliat is that, monsieur?” Grant chuckled and gave his com panion's shoulder a friendly slap. “It’s American for a good fellow, monsieur.” “All, je comp rends.” Helen waited the least bit anxiously. Slie was grateful to Washburn for his support, but did not think his description very apt. Rivaux turned his gaze to Doreen. “Now you. madame. M. Gra’am was in vour villa for two weeks. What do you think?” Her lips twisted into a somewhat scornful smile as slie replied: “Mr. Graham was my guest. Natui ally I agree with Mr. Washburn.” “Urn.” Suddenly his little eves rested on Winton and it came to him that the big Englishman did not agree with his wife. “And you, M. le Colonel, did you find M. Gra’am un ‘svell guy’?” Winton moved liis feet uncomfortably, grew scarlet in the face, and stammered : “I—l did not know him very well.” “Comment? When he was in your villa for two weeks?” “He was a friend of my wife’s. 1 play golf all day and did not see him often.’’ Rivaux nodded. “So—he was a friend of Madame your wife’s. And when you were playing golf what did M. Gra’am do?” Doreen opened a thin gold ease and took out a cigarette before answering with a question : “Wlmt has all this to do with you? Tt s your business to find Mr. Graham, not to ask questions.” “Ah, so Maclame docs not like to have questions asked?” Rivaux leaned forward and smilingly met Doreen’s hard, angry eyes. “That is insolent,” she retaliated coldly. Rivaux’s hand beat an impatient tattoo on the table. “Madame, I am trying to arrive at the character of M. Gra’am. You know him best, but you will not tell. Is it perhaps because it is like—your own ?” Doreen stiffened, but before slie could reply Rivaux hurried on: “When M. le Colonel was at le golf you were with M. Gra’am in the Casino perhaps ? Doreen uncrossed her logs with an abrupt movement and broke in: Since von know so much about his movements, why ask me?” “I thought Madame would help. However ” With a reproachful Rivaux added: “Let ua get on.” ° “I’m with you there,” murmured Washburn. “Madame—” The Commissary addressed himself again to Helen. “Wliat d} you know of M. Gra’am?” “Very little excepting that his sistei adored him and that they were setting out on their journey home when the acculeat occurred.” (To be continued daily.)