The Caravan Crime

Waikato Times, Volume 97, Issue 15225, 30 April 1923, Page 3

The Caravan Crime

(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.)

PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS: DICK LAWSON returns from abroad penniless, and takes to a caravan. He receives a letter from LADY >l HAMBER, of Sarley Court, offering him work. While assisting AUDREY HAMBER, her daughter, who has twisted her ankle in the woods, his horse strays. He goes jn search of it, and comes back to find Lady Hamber shot dead, and Audrey disappeared. SELWIN, a village constable, accompanies Dick to Sarley Court, Where MR RANDOLPH, who last saw Lady Hamber alive, and SIR GERALD HAMBER, who is in bed ill, both deny all knowledge of the murder. After the inquest Audrey and Sir Gerald leave for the continent, and OLIVER BOLLARD, brother of the deceased, offers Dick a post in London. Anonymously he receives ' a bribe for keeping silence. He finds it comes from 'Bollard. CHAPTER Xlll.—Continued. "Three thousand a year under her father's will. Gerald has the estate Ai'd five thousand per annum. And as Lady Hamber only had a life interest in the properly I expe'et that boy is now richer than ever. He is a nice boy." Jossy sighed. "I saw a lot of him when Audrey and I were schoolfriends" —she shook herself to banish s?.itiment. "Well?"

"You. are wonderful, Jossy. If you can introduce me to Miss Hamber I daresay I can learn much. But," Dick hesitated, "you, suggest that she knows everything. I don't believe that." '

"But think, Dicky. While you were liuhtJug that horse the shot was fired. Audrey was in the caravan, yet when you .returned she had disappeared and the body of Lady Hamber was/ in the bed she had occupied. It is impossible that all that could have happened without her knowing the truth."

"She may k\iow a lot," said Lawson, doggedly defending the girl, "but 1 am sure she is ignorant of the man's name who shot her step-mother. If she knew it she would have told at the inquest:"

Mrs Tremby ' shook her head. "Audrey had 'no love for her stepmother, i Everyone knew that." ■ "Still,' I don't think she would keep the name of the man who murdered her step-mother quiet." . "She might want to shield the man." . Dick winced. The idea had ocicurred lo him more th;*i once. "Uni'less it was her brother, there is no one'l can think of whom she would (shield/' ' ■

"Oh, Gerald wasn't in the business. You remember you saw him yourself in bed."

"Yes. I dou't think he had anything to do with the matter," Dick reflected. Then he winced ig'iin.' "You don't suppose that she is shielding Randolph?" ■ "I don't know. She might be—not from love. But Randolph has some hold over her. I gathered liere and there —society gossip and scandal, you know—that she toleroted him dangling after her and paying her lover-like attentions. And lhen.he was staying at Sarley Court when the crime was committed." "As the guesl of Lady Hamber, I lake it, since she was mistress there?"

Mrs Tremby nodded and stood up. "Yes. Lady Hamber was keen o'.i the marriage, and —as we learnt from Bollard —that caused the row which sent Audrey into the wood on her way to Sarley Grange." "But you don't think —*-" "My dear Dick, I don't know what to think. It's all a inuddle; but I am 'now giving you an opportunity of learning something likely to dispose of the difficulties, Audrey would tell mc nothing, since she thinks I know nothing. But you are partly in her confidence because of the adventure in the wood, so you can force her to leil everything. Then" —Jossy spoke significantly, and' moved out of the alcove. "Stay here, Dicky, and I shall send Audrey to you." Lawson followed her out with an alarmed look. "She won't come if she knows that I am here." "She won't know. * I shall merely tell her that an old friend wants to see her. No, Dicky, don't contradict. I am in charge of this business. How often have Ito teJl you that? Get back and sit tight, old be;?n."

Mrs Tremby pushed him back through the screen of flowers into the alcove, and swept majestically down the brilliantly-lighted corridor. Lawson sat clown on the sofa, nervously anticipating the coming of the girl. He fervently hoped that no other person would stumble upon, the cosy corner as it was necessary for himself and Audrey to be alone for their very important conversation. But either from sheer luck or Jossy's arrangeme\its —he did not know what influence she had in this house—no one came along tc the alcove, although several couples passed along at intervals. Then he heard the sound of two murmuring voices in the distance, which, wh<M they came nearer, proved to be those of Mrs Tremby and Miss Hamber. ' It was the former who was speaking when the pair halted before the alcove. "It Is an old friend, who wishes to see you dear," said Jossy, amiably. "Go in, and you will have the surprise of your life." "An old friend." repeated Audrey. wtJ.iderlngly "I have no old friends," she said, with a sigh, "many acquaintances, but no real friend." •'I think you will find one in there," said Mrs Tremby, and guided the f. r i"l towards the screen of flowers. "I slinl! return si half an hour."

"But .lossy-- •" Audrey broke off. is her companion was now moving some distance away down tin- corri-

dor, For ;i moment 1 hosilaJ«*il. roi tipprovln'K of the mystery in which sin- -<•'•! I In he involved Th.-.i

fflkd t\UME_

mid she stepped into the alcove, to find herself face In fnc.r with a tall man. who hwl risen when she entered. In

Author of "The Mystery of a Hansom Cab," "Heart of Ice," "The Master Mind," "The Singing Head," "The Yellow Hunchbach," "The Red Bicycle," etc.

the dim light she could not recognise him, Sad laughed nervously. "Mrs Tremby said that I jwould find an old friend here," she remarfed, after an awkward pause. "I hope you will think so, Miss Hamber."

"Ahi" With a little cry she stepped back, recognising his voice, yet not quite trusting her hearing. "It surely can't be—you?" j "It is me—if you mean Richard Lawsofc," said the young man, gravc-

*He had stepped forward . as she stepped back, and a ray of light from the corridor revealed his face plainly. Audrey looked searchingly at him; he just as searchingly at her; both were extremely pale. The girl gasped, and strove to carry off the situation lightly. "You had more names than that when we last met," she stammered, shaking with nervous agitation.

"Richard Maxwell Georgo He'ary Lawson," said Dick, striving to speak lightly in his turn. "I hope your ankle is better."

"Thank you' yes!" she answered in low tones. Then she looked down, afterwards looked up, and spoke desperately. "What is the use of our f(racing? Why did Mrs Tremby bring me here?"

"To meet me." "Then she knows that we have met before?"

"She does. Mrs Tremby is helping me to unravel the skein which the Fates 'twisted for us' in Sarley Wood." • "I know she became a detective," stammered the girl, very pale and nervous.

' "It is as a detective that she is assisting me, Miss Hamber." "Oh, what a shame 1 I never thought that Jossy—l mea!i Mrs Tremby—would trick me like this!" Audrey spoke vehemently and angrily. "What else could she do, since you refysed to meet me?"

"I did not refuse,!? she denied with a stamp. "Not in words; but you avoided

me." Tears came ; into her eyes; but they were tears of anger. "I didn't want to meet you. There is no reasoU why you should persecute me." "Gome, inow that is unjust botli to me and to yourself,"said Dick, sternly, for he saw that she required 1o be dominated. "You know well that I have not persecuted you. I accepted your extraordinary conduct in sfTence."

, "Yes." Audrey felt shamed aud ■small at tho> gentle rebuke. "I owe you much for your silence. I lake back what Ij said about persecution; but I don't see' what good can come of our meeting."

"I do. You must tell me all that took place when I left you in my caravan." j * • .

Audrey looked sullen, and sat down if! the i sofa, doggedly determined to hold her tougue. "I 'shall tell you nothing." "I see. You are shielding so.rioone."

"How dare you say that?" "Then how am 1 to interpret your silence? Don't answer; I know I hat you are shielding your brother." Audrey spr&jg to her feet with a cry of alarm. Then, "It is true," she said, in choking tones. "I didn't mean to tell you, but it is true."

CHAPTER XIV. Immediately after making her confession, Audrey sat down again on the sofa and beagn to cry quietly. The tragedy in the wood, the many days of suspense, and now this meeting with the man she had striven to avoid broke her nerve. She was in a corner; she was up against it; and knew not what to do, what to say. "Gerald is as innocent as you are." "Oh, the deuce!" murmured Lawson. Then, passing from the lover to the lawyer, he proceeded to examine her, and spoke sternly. "Then, why arc you shielding your brother?" "If you talk to me in that tone I shan't say a word," she cried, still looking like a small fury. "And I thought you were my friend," she added, again about to break down. Dick sat beside her and took her hand. ' 'I wane to be your friend." Audrey snatched her hand away. "You don't; you don't. You have come to get me into trouble." Lawson laughed at this feminine way of putting things. "So far, I have tried to avoid doing so," he said, in a wounded voice—purposely wounded. (To be continued to-morrow.)