NIGHT TIDE

Star (Christchurch), Volume LXVI, Issue 20483, 8 December 1934, Page 31 (Supplement)

NIGHT TIDE

A ROMANTIC STORY OF A GREAT SEAPORT

(Author of “The Mysterious Masquerade,” etc.

By

J. R. WILMOT

CHAPTER XXL ‘We’ve Got No Proof,

.Martin Fare began to feel more and more convinced that Garvin Blake was up to no good. At first when Peter Dobbin had told him his extraordinary story Martin had inclined to the belief that Peter was romancing, but after investigations he and Peter had quietly made, he came around to the opinion that even if Garvin Blake was not quite so sombre a character as that provided for him by Peter, he was certainly not the type of man with whom a girl such as Shirley should associate. Then came the news that John Macadam had not arrived in London. Shirley herself had come across to tell Miss Fillinger, and Martin had been at home when she had arrived.

“I feel that we ought to do something,” persisted the girl. ‘‘Daddy talks of going to the police to-morrow if nothing happens. But I don’t suppose he’ll do that now. He’s forgotten all about John—thinks of nothing but a boat called the Corsair, which Mr. Blake has asked him to take out to-morrow night. The captain’s been taken ill or something. I’m glad in a way that daddy’s happy, but I really am worried about John/’

The three of them were sitting together in Miss Fillinger’s cosy lounge after tea, and if someone had appeared at the door of the room and pointed a gun at Martin’s head he could not have felt more surprised than he did at Shirley's calm announcement that Captain Macadam was to skipper the Corsair for Garvin Blake. “But, Shirley, he can't do that,” ho began, and then realised that he couldn’t tell her a thing about it because he had promised Peter. "And why not?” demanded the girl, with crimson cheeks. Martin floundered. “I’m sorry, Shirley,” he extemporised. “I didn’t think what I was saying. Perhaps I was thinking it was a long time since your father—” Shirley rounded on him instantly. “Daddy’s still quite competent, if that’s what you mean, Martin.”

“Now, children/’ cautioned Miss Fillinger, stepping into the breach. “Aren’t we getting rather away from the main topic?”

“You mean John?” Shirley’s voice was less imperious. Miss Fillinger nodded. “Although I don’t quite tsee what we can do,” she said, helplessly, “we certainly can’t start a search for him because we don’t know where to begin. That is a job for the police. They are so much more efficient than we could ever hope to be.” “That’s time,” Shirley admitted, reluctantly, “but I’m not altogether enamoured of going to the police at all. If we did, we'd have to tell them all about John’s fears, and they might not like to think that Captain Macadam's son was at one time a gangster. That’s what it means, you know.”

“Shirley’s right,” decided Martin. “We’ve got to act on our own, difficult though it’s going to be. Now, Shirley, I’m going to put a proposition to you,” he went oft. “Are you prepared to leave this matter of John in niv hands, and also in the hands of Peter Dobbin? You know Peter, don’t von ?”

Shirley looked surprised. “But what has Peter Dobbin to do with all this?” she asked, puzzled. “Nothing—as yet. But I happen to know he’s interested in curious disappearances. Peter has a kink that way. He should have been a detective.” Martin ended with a laugh, but he did not feel in the least amused; what Shirley had told him about her father worried him much more than he dared admit to her. “I think that’s the only thing to do,” announced Miss Fillinger, backing up her nephew. “You leave this to Martin, my dear. I have a feeling that he will succeed.” Miss Fillinger’s words heightened the girl’s eagerness. “You really think that?” Shirley addressed the remark to both of them. “We’ll do our very best,” agreed Martin. On the way over to Liverpool, Martin felt bold enough to mention the matter of Garvin Blake. They were walking around the deck of the ferry steamer when he did so. “I wish you wouldn’t encourage that fellow Blake quite so much,” he said, casually. Shirley stared straight ahead of her as she answered him. “And why not?” “I’ve been hearing things about him lately ” “Was that when you were looking for his ship, ‘The Corsair’?” Martin started. “How do you know that ?” ‘Daddy told me. He met you, didn’t he ?” “As a matter of fact he did. I went down to the docks with Peter ... on business.” Shirley laughed softly. “You know, Martin, old thing, you’re such a delicious liar. Isn’t it just'because you're jealous of Garvin Blake that you’ve woven a shroud of suspicion around him? You’ll be telling me next that he's a criminal.” “I might even do that, one of these, days. Oh, and by the way, Shirley, I wish you could persuade your father not to . have anything to do with ‘The CorShirlev halted and turned to face him. “Look here, Martin Fare,” she bewail sternly, “what is all this mystery and innuendo? That friend of yours * Peter Dobbin, had the nerve to ‘warn me off’ some time ago. I haven’t forgotten that, and if we hadn't been in the elevator at the time Mr. Dobbin would have got a piece of mv mind.” “I wish I could tell von." faltered Martin, “but I can’t. We're only on the fringe of our investigations.” * He paused as a sudden and devastating idea occurred to him. “What would you say.” he went on in an earnest voice, “if T suggested to you that Blake might be the cause of John’s disappearance?” He felt her hands grip his arms and saw that her face was closer to his. “You don’t mean that. Martin ?” Shirley’s voice trembled. “You’re only saying that to turn me against him. * Why he even offered to find a job for John if John hadn’t been scared that night.” She spoke rapidly and jerkily. Martin was surprised at his own audacity, a shot in the dark though it had been. Nevertheless now that he had mentioned it. the idea began to grow ... to assume staggering proportions. Instead of telling her what real I v was on his mind he said: “I tell you l'don’t know anything definite, Shirley. We’ve got no proof.”

Shirlev laughed, mirthlessly. Her world \sis a terrible tangle and her own thoughts were chaotic. “And when you get your proof it will probably be too late,” she cried, bitterly. The ferry steamer had reached Liverpool and the gangways rattled down. When they readied Atlantic Building they found that the captain was not at home, but a note bad been left for Shirley mentioning that he would not bo away very long. “I’d better wait until the captain returns,” Martin suggested, and as Shirley made no reply he waited. They sat together for some minutes without speaking. Suddenly the girl broke the awkward silence. “Martin, you’re the iqost exasperating man I know.” He regarded her with surprised eyes. “Yes you are,” she went on. “You go gaily along making all manner of fantastic allegations about people that might easily be true if only you could prove them.” “Isn’t that what I have been telling you?” he demanded, good-humouredly. “And now let’s change the subject for a moment.” “There’s only one subject that interests me,” she told him, “and that is: What has happened to John?” “But there happens to be a more important subject for me, even than John,” he persisted. “And that’s yourself. I suppose it has occurred to you that I am in love with you?” “It has crossed my mind.” “Only crossed it?” he smiled. “What a pity your mind, Shirley, hadn’t a permanent ‘stop’ on its traffic lights,” Shirley ignored the witticism purposely, although she told herself that it was the smartest thing the ever remembered Martin saying. “You choose suclf Curious moments for your love-making, Martin.” “Is there anything so curious in two people—two intelligent people—talking quietly together about something tiiat concerns both of them in an equally vital degree? I don’t agree with you, and I want to know what you are going to do about it ?” Shirley laughed. She had to laugh at the sight of Martin’s serious, expression. “I?” she smiled. “Nothing! Except to say that you are advised to make your application at a later date, when it will receive attention—yours faithfully, Shirley Macadam.” “That’s better,” he announced brightly. “A lot better. More like you, Shirley. That's the kindest thing you have ever said touching the matter of my inquiry of even date. I shall make a note of it in my ledger, and will call on you in person to renew my order, assuring you of my best attention always.” They both laughed. They were still laughing when Captain Macadam came “Hello,” he greeted them, breezily, “am I too late to share in the. joke?” “Of course you are,” Shirley told him, “we were discussing business.” “Funny business,” roared Macadam, who had just left another of his seafaring acquaintances in “The Fivepointed Star.” “You went down to the ship, I suppose?” questioned Shirley.

“That I did, my girl, and as nice a- snip a 3 ever you did see,” he replied gaily. “This time to-morrow night I’ll be aboard her bound for Cork. It’s a funny life, Mr. Fare,” he went on oblivious of Martin’s searching glance. “I never thought I’d be putting out to sea a sain. God bless Mr. Garvin Blake.” Martin arose and struggled into his “Sorry I’ve got to hop off, captain, but I thought I’d better wait until you “That’s right, my boy. Quite right. Give my love to Miss Fillinger, won’t you?” “Daddy!” exclaimed Shirley, in shocked tones. Martin smiled happily. “I certainly shall, captain. Well, good bye, Shirley. I’ll let you know how we are getting As soon as he left Atlantic Building, Martin Fare went to a telephone kiosk and called Peter Dobbin’s home number. It was Mrs. Dobbin who answered the call. Peter was not at home. He had mentioned that he was likely to be late. She did not know where he might be, but she would tell him that Martin had telephoned immediately he came in. “Will you tell him I have some important news for him and that I must see him at lunch time to-morrow?” “Of course I will,” came back Airs. Dobbin’s voice. And a 3 he went back home across the river he stood gazing over the side at the dark, swirling water. He was wondering excitedly what Peter Dobbin would say to his new theory ... a theory which suggested that the man John Macadam saw that night at “The Ciescent” was none other than Garvin Blake. (To be continued daily).