“Behind Double Doors,”

Wairarapa Daily Times, 13 June 1933, Page 7

“Behind Double Doors,”

COPYRIGHT PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

CHAPTER XX. —Continued. Tanita Mills was wondering just then why neither John Gairth, nor the kind Vittorio Morosini, sent her some word. Garth’s messenger must long ago have reached London. She had said that she would go straight to Mr Gairth. There was plenty of tune for a telegram to hiav:e come. The elderly 'woman who had brought her up to her room in the ■Golden Horseshoe knocked at the door towards evening and said that supper was ready. There was a coffee room, used by seme commercial gentlemen who were the only visitors at present, but there were no mono than four, and they were not a noisy set, like those’ who came to the hotel sometimes. Miss could have a quiet table by herself in a corner, and she wouldn’t be disturbed. “I won’t go down, thank you,” said tOie girl. ‘.‘l’m tired, and not hungry. All I want is rest. I’ll go to bed. If ;a telegram comes, or message ■of any kind, they’ll send it up, won’t they, no matter at what time?” “I’m sorry, miss, it’s gettin’ too late in the evening for ,a telegram to be delivered now,” the woman said. “You’ll Qiave to wait for it till tomorrow morning. If you like to go to bed, I’ll bring you a jug of ’ot water for wash in’ and a glass of ’ot milk to drink. Don’t refuse it, mis sic, because it will do you all the good in the world. ’ ’

When the woman went pattering down the stairs in a pair of loose' slippers that flapped the girl ■could hardly keep back tears. But she had never been a crier. She- wouldn’t begin now. Five minutes later she was to learn that the night would not pass fotr her, far from the excitements of London, without happenings. Knuckles tapped sharply on her door, and without awaiting a “Come in!” the old woman burst into the room. She had not brought the hot water. She had not brought the milk.

“Miss!” she whispered, close to Tanita’s ear, “ ’ave you got anything to Lei afraid of? Tell me quick, if you ’ave I won’t give yon away. I’m ’ere to ’elp, if it’s ’elp you need!” CHAPTER XXL —ABOVE THE GARAGE.

“Somebody’s come foir you-,” said the old woman. ‘ ‘ Two men. I know it’s you they want —I heard them talkin’ with Mr Tibbit®, him as own® our Golden 'Horseshoe Inn. They are from the police in Cambridge, uniformed chaps. They’ve been to several places, lookin’ for a Miss Tanita Mills, the name you wrote in our book. Mr Tibbits 'give mo a. wink as I passed by and I hid the book, a;s I knew that was what he wanted me to do. I took it quick into the kitchen, and I rubbed youtt - name off the page with stale breadcrumbs. You know, misisie, you couldn’t make our pen write, so you picked up a pencil. With my own handwri tin’ I 'writ with the cook’s pen and ink the name of Mary Jones, London, good and black over the rubbed line! Then I put the book back while the police and Mr Tibbit® was still chattin’. Only just in time I was, because I could o’ counted five before he led ’em over to the desk to see for themselves that there wasn’t no Ta.nita Mills here.

“We don’t like for our own sake® to have our visitors get took away by the police. It’s put in Hie newspapers, and don’t do us no good. That’® one' reason Mr Tibbits tipped me the wink, and I knew so quick what lie wanted, for the same thing lias happened before- I’m sure you ain’t done what they ’re sayin ’ this Miss Taniia Mills did.”

4 ‘ What do they say I did. ’’ ‘ ‘Why, you called up Scotland Yard firom some cottage near Cambridge, and told ’em you’d killed, a woman in a London hotel, and that you was goin’ to an inn, on. the outskirts of' Cambridge where they could find you. The name of the icon they didn’t get. The Yard called the Cambridge police, and maybe, it’s fat work in London, too, for all we can tell. You didn’t call 'Scotland Yard from, no . cottage or anywheres, did you, missae?” “No—no,” stammered Tanita. Suddenly she guessed who had called Scotland Yard. That nameless woman, who had pretended to be a friend, but was on enemy. She bad drawn out a confession, or almost a confession; she had brought her (Tanita) to this inn, saying that it was by John Garth’s wish, .and then —then —the woman had thrown her to l the police. She had even ’phoned to Scotland Yard in the name of Tanita Mills from Mr Garth’s cottage, where she must have (returned. Now Tanita asked herself, was it alie about John Garth wishing heir to leave his cottage? Had slue played into the hands of a .spy for the real murderer, plotting hoi throw her into the power of the .police? “I have remembered a person who may have done this,” she said. ‘.‘And yes, there is' something I’m afraid of. But you are being so good to me, I want you to know that I’m not a murderess. I have done no wrong at all. Only, ’there were reasons why I might be suspected, and so, those who wanted to help me, sent me lout of London for a while.” “Might as well ,piut a murder on .to a baby!” soothed the old woman. “Do you think them police ’ave got your description? ” “I don’t know. This is all a mystery to mb. Did you even* heair of .a Mr John Garth, a writer, who lives m ■a lovely cottage a few mile;s from ihere ? * ? “Oh, yes, we’ve all ’eard of ’im. We ’re proud of ’im, ’ereabouts. Mr Garth’s cottage is pointed out to tourists for a show-place. I .seed it myself one Sunday.” “Well,” said Tanita, “he sent m-e to his .cottage. Then an enemy, a woman I know nothing about, came and said ho wanted me to leave at once. She brought mo lucre. Then she must have gone back to the cottage and ’phoned to Scotland Yard, in my name. I can’t understand why.” “Jealous, I expect,” .suggested the old woman, with a half chuckle. “Nastv eat! I thought she was a wrong ’un When I cast my .eye on .’or, down below. Fnrriner, She .looked like. Now, missi'O, you mustn’t be caught by the police.” “I don’t want to be caught,” answered Tanita. “After all Mr Garth 1 has done, lie would be disappointed in me, and take me for a fool. I’ve been one, I’m afraid, but the woman’s story se r med so plausible.” “Them bobbies down there, if they

BY MRS. A. M. WILLIAMSON. (Author of “The Perfume of Eve,” “This Woman to this Man,” “The Lion’s Mouse,” etc). '

knew what Miss Mills looks like, they may come parading around the hotel. ’Ow would you like to pack your bits o’ things? Let me carry your bag down the back stairs, and you follow me where they’ll never look for you.” “You’re an angel!” exclaimed Tauita, beginning to gather her few belongings together. ‘ ‘ I have been called many 'a name in my day, but never that one. There, come along, quick! I’ll trot you around to my ison-in-law’s place. ’E’s a lady’s chauffeur, and ’e an’ my daughter live over a garage not two minutes’ walk from ’ere, by a side ■stireet. They’ll keep you as long as I tell ’em ito do. They reads John Garth’s books. Gets ’em out of a circulatin’ li’bry, tuppence a week. There! You’re ready. We’ll start.” Tanita poured the contents of her purse on to tlio table. “Will you pay my bill?” she asked. “I hope it’s enough for the few hours I’ve had the room. If not, I’ll send moire. And you! Please tell me your name. By and by I’ll hope to show how grateful I am. Whether I get out of this trouble or not, I’ll never forget your goodness. ’ ’

“You’ll get out of it if you come along now. My name is Eliza. Twiggs, but don’t you never try to send me no money! ’Twould ’uirt my feelin’s. Now, missie, mum ’$ the word! ’ ’ They were out in the dim little corridor, lit by a gas burner. The old ■woman led ther way up and down) unexpected stop® into other corridors. Then Tanita. stumbled down a narrow, twisting stairway. By an effort she saved herself a fall, and stood ait the bottom of the stairs, for a.n instant, while the old woman unlocked a door. It opened into a street which looked like a mews, and indeed, proved to be a mews, with here and there a stable transformed into a garage. • Tanita’s guide had taken the key from the door, replaced it in the outside, turned it, and at last slipped it into a capacious pocket of her apron. At the end of 'the mews she stopped, hobbled up a narrow stairway at the side of a small, jerry-built garage, and followed by Tanita, knocked impatientIv at a closed door. ‘ Almost immediately it opened to show a small but cosy room.. It was a voung man in the livery of a chauffeur, with his coat off, who greeted them; and a whole some-100 king, girl jumped up from, a supper able laid for two 1 . They gazed iij. surprise on Tanita. “This young lady is in some trouble she don’t deserve,” explained Eliza Twiggs. ‘‘ I brought ’er along ’ere in a sort of ’urry, because I know you •two’ll look after ’er, fur me.” “You’re jolly well right wo will, ma,” said the son-in-law. “Now I got to go back, so they won’t be nosin’ around after me, and mebbe trailin’ me ’ere,.” the old woman excused herself. ‘ • Good-bye, missie, and good luck.” She whisked out of the doer and Tanita was left alone with the chauffeur and his wife. The two stood politely, and “Doll,” whose name was Dorothy, and had married Tom Ch Ivors, bethought herself to offer food. ‘ ‘ Well, miss, just a c.up o’ tea, then'?” .she urged, when Tanita protested that .she couldn’t eat. “ ’Ere it is on the tabte, just off the boil.” Tanita accepted the tea. But, though the liquid was strong and dark as lye, it was hot, 'and reviving. She had neither eaten nor drunk since her breakfast roll and coffee, as slue recalled for the first time at this moment. The bitter but stimulating beverage brought back the girl’® ebbing strength. ‘ ‘I .see you’re treading a book of John Garth’s,” she said, as 'She .sipped the tea, her eyes resting on a book which, ■with. Tom Chivcrs’a pipe be side.it, lay open 'Oil the table, “I’m. a friend, of his. He’s in London at the Mayfield 'Hotel, working hard to help mo out of a lot of .trouble. He thought he had put me in a safe place at his cottage —yon know where it is, perhaps? ’ ’ ‘ ‘ Just like I know where me ’at is. ’ ’ “Garth’s detective books is the host ever! Doll and me are 'honoured to do anything, no matter wot, fur a friend of ’is; ’ ’ “That kind Mrs Twiggs hoped you would keep me for the night,”., went on Tanita. “But the more I think of what has happened, the more' I fear that Mr Garth is worrying about my safety. He sent me to liis cottage. Foolishly I came away because it seemed best then. Probably he has telephoned metre than once, and got no answer. Thera are reasons why I’m not sure if I ought to ’phone him now.” “There’s a ’phone in the garage, it you want to use it,” said Chi vers. “Thanks, no,” Tanita answered, a plan forming in her mind as. she spoke. < < what I feel I should do, is to get back to London and the Mayfield, and find out what 'has 'happened concerning me there. Something tells me I ought to be in town to-night, after the way . o ur plans have gone wrong. Could y.ou possibly drive mo to London, Mr drivers?” “I don’t own no car, miss,” said •the man. “I drive for an old lady ’e-re ini Cambridge, but I looked after her Rolls Royce in the garage, 'and by this time she’s thinldn’ of ’eir bed. As long as I don’t charge the gas and the oil to ’er account, and don’t crack up ’er .car, she won’t ’ave nothin’ great to c omplain of if I take you. “I’ll thankfully pay,” Tanita assured him. . ~ , . • “Don’t mention it, miss, broke m the gallant drivers. “Wot payin’ there is to do, I’ll do, fur a lady interdooced bv me mother-in-law, if for n'o other reason. An’ a® for my aeeept'in a thing over an’ above your thanks, 1 won’t listen to it. Am I rig it or wrong, Doll?” “Eight!” loyally approved his wi±e.. “You are all wonderful, you.two and Mrs Twiggs,” exclaimed Tanita. 1 can never thank you enough. “And now I’ll get the car ready if you’re in an ’urry to be o , sai Olivers. (To be Continued.