SERIAL STORY “The Devouring Fire”

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 74, Issue 190, 13 August 1931, Page 10

SERIAL STORY “The Devouring Fire”

BY

LORD GORELL

CHAPTER XXXV —(Continued, “I did.” explained Frances, “bn; only generally." “We got imagining and supposing. I’ve never quite rid myself of the idea that there was more happened that night than ever came ont at the trial. 'Riat’s why I’ve taken the trouble, quite sub rosa. you know, to make it my business to know all about what the other three men are doing, so that I can lay my hands on each of them, if 1 should happen to want them again.” •‘The other three?” queried Latham vaguely. ■Bryce. Ewles and Murrell—particularly Murrell,” answered Farrani decisively. "By Gad I “.Vid I’ve the fing*r-prints of them all. Now, if Mr Murrell is at the bottom of this, as he may be”—Farrant tapped his pencil on his book to emphasise the possibility —“he s overreached himself, that’s all." “But the cut. Inspector?” urgad Latham. "That mark, if I’m not mistaken, has a cut down its centre—like the other had.” “Eh? Well, that could be done—would be. by a rogue just shifty enough to get hitched up in his own cleverness. What his reasons are I don’t know —that we ll have to And out. But let’s make sure.” So saying Farrant bent to his scrutiny. Bis eyes gleamed as they carefuliy surveyed the finger-print. “Damned clever.” he muttered to himself. “Yes. whoever left this knew more than anyone has a right to.” lie took out his magnifying-glass, saying, “But he —or she, if it’s a woman—is up against a science. This little fellow'll show us that/’ Stooping slightly to bring his eyes within a few inches of the mark, Farrant scrutinised it through his magni-fymg-glass Latham and Frances, watching breathlessly, saw the interest slowly die out of his face and be replaced by a frown of stupefaction. “What is it Inspector?” asked Latham. Farrant did nut answer. Slowly, section by section, in growing incredulous horror, he compared the new finger-print on the window-frame with the photographs he had brought with him. that of the old finger-print found on July 17 in the same position, and those taken in Miss Tressway’s bedroom in London. "I’m going dotty,” he said at last, with a shudder. “Look for yourselves.” Wide-eyed, trembling they peered over his shoulder. Tne magnifying i glass travelled from photograph i-o J photograph, from photograph to win- ■ do w-frame. There could be no doui>4 < whatever that the photographs made, in London were of the same right thumb as that made on June 17; there could be equally no doubt that a ; photograph made of the new marl ,• ana of the photograph made on June. 17 would be in all essentials identi“Good God! cried Latham appalled What in the devil’s name does this mean?’ Farrant looked at him. tense, grim, awestricken, absolutely at a loss. “I don’t know, sir.” he said slowly. “Al! I do know is that I am prepared to go into the witness-box and swear that this mark which you found here this morning”was made by Ella Tress way. and that Ella Tressway wa.hanged on December 7 for a murde committed in this room on June 17 last year—eleven months ago. CHAPTER XXXVI Visit. The firs, movement after We fear-j some declaration forced from Far- * rant’s lips, of any of the three standing by the library window was made by Frances; witii a little sigh she slipped fainting to the floor. The next was Latham's: his love overcame his stricken sense of unavoidable calamity; he had her in his arms and stretched upon the sofa in a moment. Farrant, like a man awakf < from a nightmare, hurried from the room, was gone but a minute, and then returned with & glass of water He handed this without a word to Latham and then, turning back, lock- . ed the door. Presently Frances revived and apologised weakly for her exhibition. Latham turned hungrily to Farrant Inspector.” he cried, "there must be some mistake!” "I’m sorry, sir.” answered Farranl in a sombre voice, starting to find himself addressed; “but it would he wrong to encourage that idea. It s unheard of. any two people leaving the same impression. I won t say it’s impossible—nothing seems to be -—but all the same it s not known. ' Nor’s that!” \o. sir, but that s beyond me a together It s a case for the Psychi■a: Research Society that’s what that You mean—you think—?” can t think anything else My God 1’ ■ f I was you. air. I d take Mrs Latham away from here. I know I’d take Mary. it’s evil, this place i don't believe it! Latham s voice rose in passionate protest, “There ? some explanation I This is the 20th century and I in not going to believe it! Whoever in the world heard of a ghost leaving not only footmarks b: finger-prints? It’s —it’s impossible! That must be the old mark never washed off and never noticed 1 it must be. I tell >ou. Farrant shook his head slowly. Frances broke in “That’s even more ssible Im It’s far too long. We've had the whole place scrubbed, and. besides, v.e must have noticed it: we ve been in and out for weeks. It couldD t be. could it. Inspector?” I ra afraid not My advice to you s lei the place and travel: maybe it won’t trouble stranger®. I’ll be damned if I do." said Latham stubbornly. You’re right about Mrs Latham though. You go off to your mother ®. Fran.; I’m aoing to stick it out: I'm going to And out what the uevil's up!” "I m. not going to leave you here, alone, asserted Frances. They argued awhile, but she was as Immovable in her resolution as he in» 'his. Farrant intervened at length with. Well. I don’t think I can help ii » «nUide my province altogeWier. |

I'll he going, sir.” “No. no,” cried Latham. “If it A ! what you say it must be, then neither you nor any one else can help; but it it isn’t—” “If it* isn’t.’’ conceded Farrant unwillingly, “then l’do come in.” “Well, let’s make sure. After all, there are various things to go upon. There’s Richards's yarn, for example.” “What’s that?” Latham, aided by Frances, told Farrant the whole story right from the beginning of Scott’s difficulties down to their discovery that morning. In spite of himself, Farrant’s professional interest began to re-arise over hi? superstitious fears. One point in particular struck him, the time al which Richards thought he saw the apparition and the time at which Latham had left the library on the preceding night. “You were gone by a quarter past ten.” he said, “and Richards thought he saw the figure about ten-thirty. Whatever it is, then, devil or flesh and blood, it seems probable that it comes about the time the murder was committed. It may come later sometimes. of course, but at least the coast here was clear for It by then last night and the window open. It & possible that If you’d sat on a bit you might have seen something. ’ ‘‘We've been here other nights and been undisturbed.” “With the lights on and the windows open?’’ “No.” “Well, it’d be worth watching—perhaps—if any one's the nerve to do it. It’d settle the question, J suppose.” “Will you if rrn game?” asked Latham abruptly. Farrant hesitated; he began to hedge. "If it was somebody, some living person, I mean,” he said reluctantly, "well, he or she had a free run last night; why snouldn’t that end it?” “But you say it s not a living thing.” ‘T don't think it is. Why should a living thing keep coming—at. the same time as the time of the murder? ’ “Then have the courage of your conviction: keep me company and prove it.” “Very well,' said Farrant at last, with great repugnance. “There’s just one thing which makes me want to—at least, I don’t want to; J admit it turns me cold; it’s not what I’m used to —but makes me willing to,” be added, very thoughtfully. “What’s that?” “This, that both the marks, that of June 16 and that of last night, ars dirty,” I don’t quite understand ’‘Well R didn’t strike me at the time, and J don’t, know that it struck anyone, but it did just now. You’ve seen for yourself that the photograph )f the June mark showed exactly what this shows: the two are as alike as two peas, much more like, they’re in every way indistinguishable. This photograph might be the photograph of that mark there, in fact, a® well as of the June mark.” “ Yes. that's what’s so infernally uncanny.' “ It's more—perhaps,” rejoined Far"ant, puckering his brows in perpiexly. Both were made, as I said, by dirty finger. Why dirty? Ordinary a finger isn’t quite like that; it’s ..ore a light, greasy mark a? a general rule This and the June one, well, they’re dirty and fairly odvious in consequence.” “It it's Miss Trassway's, ’ said Frances, speaking with great difficulty, “ and I can see for myself that it's absolutely identical with hers, then it would be the same again, surely? I mean, it would repeat itself exactly, wouldn’t It? The whole thing’s unearthly to a degree, but that’s what would happen. J suppose.’ “ That's so.' agreed Farrant, “ I know nothing about astral bodies or whatever they’re called, but as far as there's room for any logic in such business that would seem logical; and It corresponds with the coming about the same time as the crime. But it leaves the original problem unanswered. Why was Tressway’s thumb covered with dirt that night? She came from waiting in the wood; that’s certain, though she denied it. You wouldn't expect her to have her thumb like that.” “ She may have tripped in the dark/' suggested Frances. " Y”es, she may, and that's very likely the explanation, but even so a person would ordinarily have wiped her hand before coming in. It’s a very small thing, of course, but it’s odd, and it makes me think/' “ But what can it matter?’’ asked Latham curiously. 11 That’s .juet what I don't know, sir. It may not matter at all; in fact I don’t see how it can, but anything odd in a difficult case is interesting. It ought to have been inquired into, but it was overlooked.” “ Are you meaning that it may no! have been her thumb at all? What about these other photographs made in her room?” “No sir, I don't mean that at all. We didn't rest on those: we verified them, for our own satisfaction, from her direct, without her knowing, after she was arrested. It's her thumb all right: there isn't the slightest doubt about that.” “ Then I don't understand in the least.” “ Nor do I, sir. And I don't like not understanding. That’s why I said I'll keep you company here —if you really mean to watch.” “1 do,” said Latham firmly. “It gives me the cold shudders, but I can't sit down under this: I must know, if it's possible to get knowledge. And. if it’s as it seems, then we’ll clear out of this devilish place for ever.” On that understanding they parted. Farrant returned t,o his headquarters, filled with foreboding. He said nothing to any one. even to his Mary. He did not wish either to be jeered at by his fellows or to have her in frightened accents beg him to go back upon the task he had undertaken. JTq eooUnued.)