"The Double Problem."

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 79, Issue 242, 13 October 1936, Page 10

"The Double Problem."

SERIAL STORY

(By

FRANCIS BROWN)

“Loakingr ibaok,” he continued, “it does not require much perspicacity to decide why you were so anxious that I should divulge to no one that you were the owner of this house when I purchased it. But —to return to the case of Michael Enderby “ Supposing we take it on hypothesis and say that the meeting between Michael Enderby and his friend was pre-arranged to take tplace here at the Grange?—it might possibly even ! have been in this very room where I they met, eh? And a third person ‘ may have been present also. Then comes a sudden intrusion in the shape of Mr Geoffrey Stanton whom we will presume had lost his way in the fog, but all these little details we shall learn later no doubt. His intrusion must have been a very unwelcome one judging by the reception accorded him, marks of which he bears to this day. Shall we say that he—er—intruded on a scene of violence perhaps, and that he himself was beaten to unconsciousness ‘because of his interference in order to help the victim of that violence, because of what he had seen ? " Then there is the exchange of clothes —remember 1 am only stating the case of hypothesis; now that exchange of clothes wasn't a bad Idea, for it misled those who were hunting for Geoffrey Stantun and at the same time ga\e the assailants time to leave the country with a very nice substantial bag of nuggets. But they didn't leave the country—-why Because they read in the paper that the man found on Hampstead Heath had recovered consciousness but had entirely lost his memory as far as the past was concerned. “ This gave the arch-villain of the play a brilliant idea. No need, he argued, to leave the country yet. He would identify the man lying at the Empire Gottage hospital as Michael Enderby. By doing so he would effectually stop any enquiries after that particular individual that might be put forth by Garter and Furnlval. Carter and Furnlval would surely accept the word on oath of Michael Enderby’s life-long friend! So Geoffrey Stanton was identilled as Enderby, although he wasn’t the- least little bit like him ex•ept perhaps as regards height and build. ” It was a bold stroke and a dan--erous one; but the arch-villain was eady to take risks. As long as Geof’•ey Stanton’s mind remained a blank ir felt fairly safe, and as far as re■ncnition was concerned, that dis- ■ -luring scar militated greatly against !.• chances, to say notning of Stan- ; -ri's living almost the life of a recluse | \:Ui that cranky fellow at the Grange! So argued the arch-villain, and, |<\ ig successfully—as he thought—• i -wn the scent off the trail not only • Geoffrey Stanton but Michael i i»y as well, he tried to persuade that he was happy, and he d lo enjoy the proceeds of his ! • . Rut—l have an idea that he s derived little enjoyment from any ir.-e shice that fatal night last Oc- ■ Now about the lesser villain in the play,” with a keen glance at William Bradley, “ ] ha\e said little, simply be’ausa he was the lesser villain and—there may have been circum-stances that dragged him against his will into a net-work of crime. I “ But, what is your opinion, Mr Maine, of my hypothesis? Am I anywhere approaching the truth?” A silence that was ghastly in Its . snggestiveness followed; the seconds i if its duration seemed like hours beI 'ore Stephen Maine, slung to action lit last, leapt to his feel, and with | .lands clenched lightly at his sides, i .iced his tormentor. Are you man or devil?” he choked ; vhiist great drops of perspiration ■ beaded his brow. "If yon'ro a man j -rst on with it for I’m nearly through—limn you!” | The professor smiled, a slow In- ■ ratable smile. Ah, I seem to have touched you on raw. Mr Maine?*’ he &atd, ‘‘So I jppose my hypothesis is fairly cor--11; but.” here he sent once more me of his comprehensive glances rom one to the other, “ but, the jiiestion still remains—where is Michael Enderby?” He paused to light a fresh elgar, md from Stephen’s face that had blanched to a deathly hue, be looked nquiringly towards William Bradley. But Bradley remained sitting in the <ame attitude with the same apathetic • ook. 0T hopeless despair clouding his ‘ es. There was no fight left In him. ' le knew’ that the game was up, but !■■ was Nada of whom he thought, Nada who during the past terrible 1 nerve-wracking weeks had been kinder ’ ind gentler to him than she had ever been before. From Bradley the eyes behind the green goggles travelled to the woman. With all the pretty colour drained from her cheeks, her mouth showing like e splash of blood in the strained whiteness of her face, she leant back with large tragic eyes fixed on her husband’s face. She had promised herself to mask her feelings, but, like Stephen Maine, she had not suspected this. Torture, perhaps—yes for Stephen Maine had talked freely about the owner of the Grange and of his suspicions that the latter possessed some hidden knowledge, but this slow revealing of actual facts was terrifying her. the refined cruelty and lingering process of it filled her with dread. A shadow that had been threatening ever since she had discovered a terrible orlme was looming very large. In imagination she saw it like a grim sentinel stalking her husband wherever he went. A smile touched the lips of the Professor as he looked at the woman, a ghost of a smile that vanished almost, as soon as it was born. To his mind she was the puckiest of the three, and he would have spared her if possible, nut he could not abandon the completion of a pre-conceived pian Because she had decided on the oak parlour in preference to the drawing-room. ” I believe,” he said, whilst carefully sorutlnising the glowing end of his cigar, “ I believe that two of us four men know for a dead certainty where

Michael Enderby is, and that 'two think they know where he is.” A gasp came from the woman, ibut apart from that not a sound. ] Then whilst the air was palpitating and tingling with the emotions of four people held rigidly in check, Professor Green launched another bombshell. “ I had the well in my garden excavated a few days ago,” he said, “ and the contents ’’ | A cry broke from the lips of Nada -—a cry sudden and swift and preg- > nant with agony and anguished suffering that galvanised William Bradley to life and brought him leaping to his feet. In a second she had reached his side and, clinging desperately to him, she turned on Professor Green with all the fury of a tigress about to be robbed of her whelps. From the scarlet lips grown as, ashen as 'her cheeks came a torrentj of words in a choking gasping whis-,. per: . ' “You shan't say it, you shan’t! ‘ her eyes wild and haggard, defied him and Implored him and wrestled with him for the man she sought to pro- I tect. “ You can’t take William —he I didn't do it—he never laid a finger oh i ■Michael Enderby, he didn’t kill him— ■ Ido you hear me? It wasn’t William ] Iwho struck the blow —oh, heavens! (won’t you believe me when I tell you | ( —he didn’t kill him —he didn’t kill—•> (ohl won’t you believe me? He only (helped afterwards afterwards IWhen it was too late ” i Her distress was terrible. Evenjj -Stephen Maine was surprised and in" (the midst of his own terror moved to! ja faint sense of pity. Keith Darrell', (walked abruptly towards the hearth], 'and busied himself with the flreij (throwing on another log and poking] lit to a blaze, but the professor stoop-,, ling swiftly raised (Nada gently to her; feet and led her back to her chair., |! “A glass of wine for your wife,, Bradley,’ he snapped, Indicating a de-ij canter on the table. “ No, no I” she cried with a gesture. of loathing and protest from the prof- ii fered refreshment. “I—l would! rather die 1" Professor Green smiled again, the same ghostly shadowy smile, but did not press' her. “Believe me, Mrs Bradley, I am willing and anxious to be your friend, |j but I have begun my story and I must finish it. I consider it absolutely necessary for your peace of mind that I should tell you about the contents of the well.” His glance passed on to Stephen Maine. “ I believe,” he said crisply, “ that you and Mr William Bradley filled In the well last October, a few days after the fatal 16th? it may surprise you to hear that I excavated it myself without any outside help.” He paused as though waiting for some remark from either of the wretiched men, but both Bradley and Stephen Maine believed they were beyond ibeing surprised at anything now. I The blow- had fallen—their crime in all Its hideousness was being un‘folded before their eyes, but they realised the crucial moment was yet to 'come. They knew what they had hidden away in the disused well close on 'midnight on the night of October 16 whilst the fog still hung like a dense pall over them , . . They knew what was the gruesome thing on which they had shovelled earth witli such feverish haste the morning when Nada had said that they looked for ali the world like a couple of gravediggers, but the moment was coming when their dastardly act was to be put in plain bald language by another. For if Professor Green had indeed excavated the well he knew —he must know —about its grim secret . . So the two men stood motionless waiting in stark terror for the final bomb to explode. “ Half way down Hie well,” proceeded the Professor, “ I came upon a fur-lined overcoat wrapped in an oilskin mackintosh, which contained a silver matchcase bearing the letters G.S. This is now in the house in an oak chest in the blue room. Beneath that -I came upon a bright red tablecloth —it might have been a twinsister to the one I have on this table now, -but it was very much soiled, and marked with stains which I afterwards discovered to be bloodstains. Beneath this red tablecloth I saw—” Just for the infinitesimal fraction of ' a second he paused, but it was sufficient to add to the agony of apprehension with which three at least bung breathlessly on his words. “ After removing the red tablecloth," he went on with deliberate slowness, " I saw—a heap of brushwood.” He carefully removed the dead ash from his cigar and looked across at Nada. “ Yes, Mrs Bradley," he said, enunciating each syllable clearly and dis-| tinctly, “ a heap of brushwood and—' nothing more, I give you my word for It." Again a tense silence reigned. Amazement, incredulity, sheer amazement showed in swift succession on Nada's mobile features and a tiny glimmer of something like hope shot Into her beautiful dark eyes. “ What else were you expecting I should find, Mrs Bradley?" he was beginning, when Stephen Maine burst in with impotent fury. “Don't answer him I” he cried fiercely. “ He’s only playing on your feelings—it’s just another phase of torture, curse him!” Then as though he had reached the very limit of his endurance, Stephen Maine flung all prudence to the winds and wheeling round on Professor Green, cried: “ I’ll tell you what you found under the red table-cloth, you devil in human form, you! You found," biting off the -words with venomous hate, “ you found the body of Michael Enderby! Now,” passionately, “go and do your worst—you and your precious friend Mr Keith Darrell. Bradley and I are going to face the music, for I swear that anything we have 'to meet is better than your fiendish method of torture 1" - j>To be bontlnued.)