“Mystery of Grey House”

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 80, Issue 84, 10 April 1937, Page 7

“Mystery of Grey House”

Mystery Serial Story

By

M. E. COOKE

Melllsh answered quickly. “ I’d like fifty men, sir, Io watch Grey House’ and the grounds there, night and day.” ‘’Fifty men!” McKay exploded. “There have been two murders, sir,” said Mellish, “ and a machinegun shoot.ng. it isn’t safe to take chances of any kind.” “But. your fifty men would drive anyone in this affair as far from Pembury as they can get,” grumbled McKay. “That depends.” said Mellish quietly, ” on the size of the attraction at Grey House. Did you know, for instance, that Dr. Schilling has several hundred thousands of pounds worth of precious stones there?” There was a silence that could almost be heard. Then McKay’s voice came grimly: “The devil he has! No, I hadn’t a notion, Mellish. Are you sure of your facts?” “Quite sure,” said Mellish. McKay needed no more convincing. When he spoke again there was a hardness in his voice, and he made a suggestion that Mellish had wanted Io make himself but, knowing McKay's dislike of the course had held over. “That makes it different. Mellish. Had we better ask Scotland Yard for assistance?” “I think it would be wise, sir.” “They’ll steal half our thunder,” grumbled McKay. “We shall have to consult them,’’ said Mellish, “In order Io try and identify the two murdered men. We might as well ask for assistance, as have it forced on us. sir.” “Humph,” grunted McKay. “ All right. I’ll get in touch with them. Meanwhile, take as many men as you think necessary.” Mellish replaced the receiver thoughfully, held it for a few seconds, then called the Horsham station again. Within ten minutes of his second call, plain-clothes men from all over the county were receiving instruction to go to Pembury, under Inspector Mellish's orders. “The trouble’s at Grey House.” Mellish muttered to himself as he replaced the receiver. “ And I fancy Schilling himself is mixed in it badly. It’s lucky Duncan came across with that story about the insurance. It gives us a different light on Augustus Schilling.” Mellish scowled. “ I wonder how he's getting on, up there.”

He was thinking of Duncan. It had been against his belter judgment that Duncan had made the visit to Grey House. Trouble was in the air, and one more killing would make little difference to the cold-blooded murderers with whom they were dealing. The only spark of relief that Mellish saw in Duncan’s visit was that the people at Grey House would not be likely Io harm him, knowing that it would immediately bring the police about their ears. Mellish was a shrewd man and a clever one; but there were some thing he didn’t know; and he didn’t know the crafty ingenuity of lhe men he was fighting. Otherwise his confidence in Duncan's temporary safety might have been dried up. MfclHsh felt restless, towards eleven ■o’clock, Duncan wasn't due back from the Grey House for another half hour at least, and there was little the Inspector could do meanwhile. He wondered who would be sent down from the Yard Io help in the investigation of the murders, and he wondered whether there would be any indentifleation of the two dead men. But his thoughts did not ease his restlessness.

He walked from Pembury Village towards Standing's bungalow and saw that pleasant-faced young man, unwontedly serious now, looking out of lhe window. He beckoned him. Standing came out eagerly. “Any news 9 ” h* demanded "Aoijo at all,” said Mellish. ”But I’d like to have a look at the Grey House lodge; do you know where it is, exactly?” “Yes. I’ll take you there,” said Standing. “Fd like you to,” Mellish said. The two men made there way across lhe fields leading to the lodge cottage. It W'as more than a mile off the main road, and on the way they met two plain-clothes officers, still searching patiently and •systematically for a knife or a gun. The cottage came into view’, at last,‘and Mellish whistled when.he saw it. It w’as a comparatively large house, whoever had called It a cottage must have been gifted with a peculiar sense of humour. It- was hemmed in by trees, Mellish saw immediately; a better spot for crime was hard to imagine. Well away from the road, in one of the quietest corners of England, there was small chance of interruption from outside sources. This was the place, then, that Jaggers had been so vindictive in his efforts to keep private, and where Steyn, and. it could be assumed, Jaggers and Dowson lived. “lioxy f«r is lhe house itself from ’here?” asked Mellish. Standing rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘ Well—l suppose the best part of half a mile, but it's very wooded between the. two buildings.” “So that if Steyn is up to some funny business here, it’s possible that Schilling knows nothing about It?” Standing hesitated. “I mean,” said Mellish. patiently, “that, it is possible to work here and yet be cut, off almost entirely from the Grey House?” Standing nodded, although he was still uncertain. Mellish himself did not think it likely that Steyn and Schilling were working separately, hut the possibilty had tn be borne in mind. He. looked thoughtfully towards the cottage, a red brick building much more picturesque than the house itself. The two men were sheltered from view of the cottage by a line of tall trees. They could see. yet 11 was unlikely that anyone looking from the windows would see them. Mellish waited for a few minutes, and then said quietly: “It's queer, Standing, but I ought to have met. one or two of my men before now.” “You ha\e done.” said Standing.

“They were near the road.” Mellish said. *“I sent another two of them

Io watch this place and to mUe surf Steyn and his servants didn't move. I hope Io goodness nothing's happened ” The words were hnrdly out of his moult) when a slight sound broke across the near-silence of the grounds. It came once again before either of Hie men really heard it. Then Mellish snapped his fingers and Standing grimaced. “This gel’s worse." muttered Mellish. “Where’s it coming from?” “To our left, I think,” said Standing. As the men moved, they heard It again, a little moaning sound, lik* a man in pain, or a man talking while unconscious. A few’ yards brought them nearer lhe sound. Mellish brushed as’de a thick bramble branch, suddenly, and then muttered: “God! Standing: look at that!” Standing peered over the Inspector * shoulder. What he saw made his face pale. For. stretched out on lhe grass, in a small clearing, was lhe body nf a man—a policeman who had come with Mellish early that morning! Mellish moved towards the policeman quickly. The man was still moaning a litllo. and as lhe others neared him. they saw an ugly bruise on his forehead. He was lying face downwards, with his head turned « little towards the right. It was not until they were within two yards of him that they saw what had brought him down. Then Mellish stopped dead, with a curse on his lip*. "Look at that!” he muttered.

Standing looked, at a steel-jawed trap that was biting Into the unconscious man’s leg! Between them, they managed tn free the victim. Mellish was thinking fast, as they worked. It. was possible, he recognised that the trap had been set there for a fox. and the policeman had stepped across it accidentally. The wound on his forehead might have been caused by his striking a stone that was lying nearby. “Might.” muttered Mellish. as he pillowed the man's head on his coat, folded compactly together, and moistened the lips with whisky from a flask he look from his pocket. “Standing. do you think you can get back to the, road, alone?” Standing nodded. “I'll have a darned good try,” he said.

Both men knew the other was thinking of the possibility of Interference. This nightmare business w-as gelling on their nerves. “Bring a couple of men back with you, to carry Jenkins.” said Mellish. motioning towards the unconscious policeman. Standing nodded, and hurried off on his errand. Mellish made the victim of the trap as comfortable as he could, and then stood up to watch the cottage. He waited for a few minutes, wondering where the other police guard was, wondering what Steyn was doing. Suddenly, he saw the door of the cottage open. He watched, narrow-eyed.

The unmistakable figure of Steyn left the building!

Steyn was hurrying, casting furtive glances right and left as he went. Obviously he was afraid of being seer. Grim-lipped, Mellish told himself that if Steyn tried any funny tricks, such as making a getaway from th®, lodge cottage, he would find himself behind bars before the night was out. Then Mellish blinked. He stared across the bushes towards the cottage and the spot where Steyn had been. For a moment he could hardly believe his eyes, but slowly he realised lhe truth. Steyn was no longer In sight. He had disappeared, as if Into thfn air.' Which meant, Mellish thought grimly, that there was a hole In the ground, about two hundred yards from the cottage, into which Steyn had dropped. Why? CHAPTER VIII. Heavy Odd®. Duncan's surprise at seeing the woman revealed itself for an instance on his face, but he recovered quickly, and his expression was one of polite interest as she swept Into the room. “Mr Duncan?” Duncan smiled, a little grimly. He was gelling used to that interrogation, and now he was puzzling himself with yet another query. Who was this woman ? Her beauty was unquestioned, bul it had a heaviness when compared with the loveliness of Eileen Bridge*. This woman was heavily painted; her eyes were glittering, their lashes obviously blacked; her lips were red with carmine, her cheeks with rouge. But she was an arresting fgure, and she dressed exotically, without destroying lhe unquestionable effect of her appearance. She was taller than the average woman; five feet eight or nine, Duncan estimated; he noticed, also, that her nails were painted a bright red. “My name is Duncan,” he said at last. The woman nodded and smiled; her teeth were very white against her red lips, but there was something about, her that repulsed Duncan. She looked hungry “And you want to see the Doctor about, his latest researches, Mr Duncan?” Duncan felt more anxious than annoyed, but he realised that a genuine newspaper man, in these circumstances, would prcbrbly show some kind of annoyance. So he frowned. “Yes.” he said, shortly. “I went to the trouble of fixing this appointment with Dr. Schilling, for half-past ten. H is now—” he looked at his wristwatch, and was surprised himse’.f how swiftly the lime had flown—'fej, minutes past eleven. With all respo-t to Dr. Schilling. 1 feel that he might have come by now, instead of sending another messenger.” The woman’s eyes narrowed a little. Duncan felt, just as he had felt when he had seen Steyn, early that morning, an Impression of evil. She smiled, but there was no humour in her smile. “You seem Io forget,” she said, softly, 100 softly, “that the Doctor t® granting you this interview •” iTo be continued.)