The Innocent .Accomplice

Waikato Times, Volume 110, Issue 18441, 23 September 1931, Page 4

The Innocent .Accomplice

CHAPTER I. “Meet Peggy.” Peggy Alison had found it more difficult than ever that day to show the right amount of interest as to whether “Modain" chose grey marocain or pale green charmeuse for her frock. Her deep slate-grey eyes under the long lashes, so intriguing a contrast to her red hair, rippling naturally over her shingled head, were lost in puzzled thought when she had a minute to herself behind a stand of frocks, and when Ada's eyes were off her, and Ada’s sharp voice, with Its insistent "What’s up, Peggy?” was, for a little, silent. Ada was always so curious, she found out about everything connected >with her! She was sorry that Ada had the little flat next to her mother’s in West Kensington, so that both in the shop—“ England’s” vast emporium in .the High Street—and at home, she was never sure when Ada’s metallic voice might not break in upon her.

Peggy had only got to know Ada in England’s a few' months ago, when, coming up to London with her mother, after her father’s death and the loss of his small income, she had taken this job at “England’s”. Money had to be got somehow, and, of course, “Business,” now, was not a lower depth to which one fell, as it was in her mother’s younger days—even though Peggy's father had been the poverty-stricken Vicar of Chumleigh. Peggy did not dislike "England's,” and selling the pretty frocks—she had a gift for frocks and colour and style, and customers liked her, but she disliked some things about the life. Michael England, the son of the Arm, had noticed her at once, and the girl’s curious look of detachment from the place, as if she were always thinking of something else—or studying the life and the people from a new vlewI point. Peggy paid him little heed. A dark man with a quiet, humorous face and courteous manner.

"Very dull old whiz-bag?” Ada had said. "No fun with him at all! Give me Mr Harold —he knows a pretty girl. BuL then, of course, pretty Peggy is too high and mighty for anyone in ‘England’s!’” .Peggy passed that over, as she passed over a great deal that Ada said, scarcely hearing it; though it sometimes crossed her mind to wonder why Ada said sharp things and always seemed to half dislike her. Her mind now, as she changed the frocks on the stand, was very far away from them, and from everything in “England's.” “What is Ted doing? And why won't he tell us? It worries mother —though she says nothing .... Ted is so secretive .... and dinners at Claridge’s .... stalls .... the little car .... where does he get them all? It isn’t as if lie were happy .... he isn’t! .... And mother says he starts and cries out in his sleep .... But one get’s one’s nose snapped off if one asks I”

It all went round in her mind. She could not get away from it. All the time she was recommending “Modnm” to tako tho marocain .... with a little alteration here —and, yes—fringe; she did think fringe—Ted’s face was before her, with its shallow rather liectio good looks and the crisply curling hair. Ilis old laugh was not so frequent—lie was jerky and nervy. Tho money I Where did the money come from?

“It's ever since ho met that man lie calls ‘Chips’ " Peggy told herself, while she was making out the address and saying, “Yes, Modam, certainly. On Thursday at tho latest.” “I dislike Chip and his compliments! Ted used to grumble about Hie City .... and rail at poverty and everything being ‘a dud show,’ but lie wasn't like Ibis! Why shouldn't lie lell us? If it was a good speculation —or horse—why shouldn't he say so?"

“Say, Peggy, come to Iho Movies with me to-night?" Ada’s voice came round the corner Hien, "Modam” having taken herself and an interested companion down Hie softly carpeted stairs of the Mantle Department. “Your 'mother's going to spend llie night with that cousin at Richmond," she said. “You’ll lie all alone- —unless you are going out with some one? Michael ever asked you?" She giggled a little. “Oh, you needn’t look so scornful! I saw how he kept you half-an-hour dis.vissing those French models. And though lie's too high and mighty to look at most of us, you are different, and classy!” “I am not going anywhere with Michael England,” Peggy said coldly, “lie never talks of anything but business when l go to the office. I wish you wouldn't be so silly, Ada I lie isn’t that style of man ”

"Oh, of course I know bo’s Cambridge and all that" Ada said. “Well,, I’ll call for you at the flat, Peggy, about eight. There is a ripping show at Shepherd’s Bush.” "All right," the other said listlessly. She really had no desire to do a "Movie” with Ada, but the girl got cross if refused, and her mother would bo out with the sick woman at Richmond. Peggy had rather thought she would tako a ’bus drive in the dark —she loved the top of the ’bus —down to the country, as far as she could get from tho long tentacles of London, sometimes almost as far as Guildford tho air in her face. Though she liked London too, and all its teeming streets and multitudes were slill like a great wonderful drama to her. Michael England and his quiet, grave face were nothing lo her, and she only resented Ada’s chaff. As if the son of Hie head of the firm would ever look at her I Also lie was not at all romantic or attractive. Peggy's girlish dreams still visualised some one very different when she thought of a possible lover. She was kept unusually late in the shop that night, explaining something lo Hie cultcr-out. and wb.cn she got down to tho first floor they were already closing, and tho great iron shutters \vcre being let down. She stopped to speak lo a passing girl employee before going for her coat and hat. “I’m going homo to supper. Mother’s out for Hie night,” she said. "And thou I’m going to the Movies with Ada Prowse."

'l'lio girl nodded. “hike Ada? 1 always think she's like a wliilc cat! She '-cratches if you don't, keep on strok;r.c, her! And 1 can't he holhered ; stroking her! Hut you're so sweet, I peppy!” | Peggy scarcely heeded, and the ; other glrPwith a nod, walked on. ' 1 | see a ’hus," slie said, i Peggy was looking at her hand, In consternation. Her ring! Her nioi |p, re's litth 1 emerald ring! 1! wa- ! | gone! Ted, who was licr half-hro-i ther. when “hard up” had got poor j little Mrs Alison to give him all the few trinkets she possessed; but Mrs Alison had been Arm about the ring. 1 should that- —it was her

{By ETHEL F. HEDDLE .) Author of “ Tho House of Shadows,” “ The Palace of Silence.”

engagement ring to Peggy's father — a family jewel. The girl stood dismayed at its loss now. Suddenly she remembered. It had been loose. It must have caught, she decided, in tlie lace of one of the dresses on the stand when she shook them out and turned them inside out. She must go and search. Must get there before the char who swept the rooms iu the morning came with her brushes. She ran up the shallow stairs with thick carpets with the big “E” in circles everywhere, and was hack in Her own department, empty now, and past the big jewellery oases. She thought of nothing but the ring and its loss.

"1 wouldn’t give it to anyone but you, darling,” her mother had said, with her pathetic eyes bent on the girl’s face. Mrs Alison had been a widow with the one boy when the Vicar married her. Ted .was five years older than nincteen-year-old Peggy, and the girl gathered that her mother's first marriage had been tragic in some way. She never spoke of it at all. The Vicar’s love had been all absorbing and devoted. When lie went, the sun went out for the widow all joy, except Peggy. The ring! She must get iiie ring! Everything was covered in white sheeting, ghostly, and lifeless. The cases were locked. She sped up to the stand and began searching the carpet. Then she took out each frock and shook it, examined the lace, the fringe. Time passed, and in her anxiety and desperation, she thought of nothing till a sound from below startled her. It was like the clang of a heavy door. Why! They might have shut her in! She stood a moment, and then ran down the soft carpets and downstairs, passed more hooded figures on the stairs. The great shop seemed dead somehow. The costumes and hats were dead things, wanting the customers and the saleswomen and ttic stir and rush and clangour of the traffic coining up faintly from Hie street. The place was only lit from i the skylights. They had turned off the light. But when she got down to Hie front hall she groped about her, and looked round in dismay. She was shut in ! Ail the big iron shutters and the great door were closed 1 At tiiis nour, too, all the shoppers had gone. She would have I lo stay here till the night watchman came! They did not commence their rounds till late. She considered the situation and was glad to remember that her mother was out. She would not be driven frantic with anxiety. The girl retraced her steps up the I wide staircase. She would feel more j at home in her own department of this I new, ghostly shop—a new, strange "England's" at night. Ada ? Well, she could explain. Only she wished it had not been Ada, with her sharp, gimlet eyes, and her catty smile, who would question her and chaff her. Ada’s peculiar cut-glass kind of chaff. ■She got back to the costumes, and began to feel decidedly hungry. She thought of the scrambled eggs and tomatoes she had meant to have. They ! seemed to smile ot her more than eggs j and tomatoes had over done ’before, j The night watchman would let her 1 out; but she would have to walk ■through the midnight streets home—

j not very nice! Just the hour when , “all that mighty heart was lying still.” A ghos.ly hour, with prowling cats' j dim figures, unreal —like the ghouls j in a French novel, who prowl about the | streets in that hour. She could pic- | ture it, and London, the “mighty j heart,” for once pulseless, lifeless, | asleep 1 Even London sleeps, they , said, and all its hrolcen hearts— in ; the few strange hours between midI night and dawn! i Well! She could do it! It would I be an experience. Ail life is a kaleido- ! scope of experience. . . Siio had no [money, for late taxis. She paced up ! and down Hie room for a little, rest- ; lessly, and then she began to feel 'tired. I She would lie down and take a nap till the night watchman came. Quito : a nice old man! She knew him ! slightly. His wife charred for her [ mother. He would say, “Well, now, • ain't this 100 had?” and raise his i hands.

She settled herself on a fur rug. It tell warmer like that, and took a fur coat from a stand and thrust her slim rosy arms through the sleeves. She would not crush it. She would lean back against a velvet-clad couch. She stretched out her pretty little feet. Ted was rarely in at night now, and lie always said he had been out with “Chip,” giving no account of himself, •and falling into violent and uncontrolled rages if Mrs Allison askod any questions, lie had b ‘ought Chip to the fiat once—never again! Chip had looked round scornfully, Mrs Allison and Peggy thought. He had paid the girl a compliment or two, and Ted said later 'that he had said Peggy was "poor fun for so pretty a glr-l." He never came again. He had been well dressed and smart, but neither of the women liked him. “You were both -cursed starchy," Ted had said. “Chip said ho felt as if lie were in a vestry, with surplices hanging all round ! He asked why Peg hadn't married the curate. I said there weren't enough curates to go round, nowadays, and they can’t -even

feed themselves, poor beggars, in this land that isn’t lit for cither horses or •curates to -live in! By Jove! Your generation muddled the world up finely for us, Mother, didn’t you? Pretty mess they made of it!” Peggy remembered Hie bitter, sneering voice, the restless eyes.

“I hope your generation will put it all right, then, Ted,” Mrs Allison had said, with something in her quiet voice that made Ted bounce up, dash down his expensive cigarettes, and leave the Hat. ■Peggy fell Into a cloze at last. She wished Ted wouldn’t worry her sacloyed mother —there was always a kind of terror in her mother's eyes when she looked at him. Who was Ted's father? She was fond of her brother, in spite of all, when lie was not, cross. She fell asleep wondering if Ted had gone home by any chance, and found no supper—and both of them out! | How angry he would he! For. of ! course, women. In Ted’s eyes, were ; horn !o smoolh life for Ihe male sex! I Whst else were they for? i | CHAPTER 11. ! Tho Burglary. | ! She did not remember where she j was when she awoke with a start, and : she looked round the dark \!s'a of lhe ! mantle department with, confused ■ eyes, still full of sleep and Ylre«n'i ; of youth. It was as ?■’ the green i wafer weeds of i.’.Ye deep sleep-pool ' still held her. > ) The lighj x'tvHme In dimly from Hie ! skylight sj»'tll. hut there was no sound |at all 'mi the street, or only a faint [ ftir-o/t' ripple of sound, now and then. /

London’s life was slowly into quiet, the great sea of trafilo dying- down utterly. ' A sound? Surely she had heard a sound? Was it the watchman—Old Bill? Something made her hesitate in her corner behind the stand, however, and she did not move or speak. Time enough when she saw Bill. lie would be startled when he saw her —perhaps think -she was a burgler! Then slowly the sound came again. Then a low voice. Tho door between this department and the Jewellery one opened slowly, and the girl, her eyes •accustomed now io the dim light, could make out throe figures. Three men!

Ono of them wore a half mask of black silk, The other two were behind him. , All- 'talked in whispers, and walked in rubber shoes, Peggy’s blood -seemed to stand still as she looked. -She felt herself -creep closer lo the wall behind the stand. If they -saw her —would 'they kill her? •She remembered, then, odd scraps of talk she -had heard that day when they were eating their lunch -at Lyons’. (“England’s” did not “live In") talk about the recent burglary at liarrods’.

“The gang hasn’t 'been caught, and won’t he, they say," Ada had said in her -cool, incisive voice. “They say it’s one man directing the lot, and clever as they're made. They hhl In the 'furniture department among lhe beds, I heard, They could do that here 100. easily enough. England’s had better look out! Be a hit of excitement for our cool Mr Allchaell" Was this the “hit -of excitement?"

A low voice, saying something about “getting it down to tho car," and “the -swag.” . . She -felt her hands growing cold as they passed her very softly. Then one of them stopped to light a -cigarette, and the llame of tho match hared up. . “Ted, you fool 1 Put that out 1 Are you mad?" “Tod”— it seemed to Peggy that her heart •stood quite still for a moment. She had seen by the little yellow hare of the -match I Seen his face ! -Her brother Ted's faoe I As she crouched there, all tho mystery seemed to be plain before her. “Chip 1" That was Chip behind the 11 ttlo silk mask. Something In the soft voice had been horribly, -oddly familiar. Ted’s money—the dlnnors at Claridge’s, the stalls, litre Bond Street -olothes! . . . Ted’s restless, hectic eyes, and sudden nervous expressions of anger over nothing. Ted was in ■this gangl Her brother! ‘Hf—-if—mother knew—it would kill -her I" she decided, and could hear the slangy talk that followed, In a maze of terror. “Wo’vo got the best of -the lot—don’t worry with those watches,” Chip was saying. “Come on! Old 'Bill won’t come to for a good bit. He’ll think he’s slept In, that’s all! Take a look back there, Ted, and see if I

■closed all the cases. They mustn’t ■see all at once. And then come on aftor us."

lie and the other man passed on, and she could hear the mur-mer of -their voices. She rose to her feet dizzily. Sho must get hold of Ted. She -must! If he were caught outsido—--caught and taken to -prison—her mother! It would kill her mother!