“WHO PAID THE DEBT?”

Waikato Times, Volume 111, Issue 18600, 1 April 1932, Page 4

“WHO PAID THE DEBT?”

■By MARY BRADFORD WHITING.

SYNOPSIS. Enid Deniston, daughter or Proressor Denlston, and Daryl Stanford, are engaged to he married. Seeing her home one night, Daryl suddenly ilnds the door shut In his race. He knocks and rings, hut gets no answer. Suspecting all Is not well, he breaks his way In through a window. To his amazement there Is no sign of life tn the house at all, the two servants, James Wilkins, and his wife, Enid and the Proressor, have entirely disappeared. Searching the house Daryl ilnds in the conservatory the body of a man who had been stabbed to death. A handkerchief is beside the dead man with the name “ Enid ” embroidered In the corner, and below\ w'ritten In ink, the words, “ The debt. Is paid.” After the Inquest on the unknown man, Daryl accepts the • Invitation or Mr North, the Coroner, to dine with him and his wdre. A secret door Is found which leads • to an empty house next door to the Professor’s, but no trace of Enid or the Proressor can be found. Daryl knows that the police are working up a case against Enid. He recalls hearing the Proressor speak or a Mrs Weston living In Ashton Road, and frantic at having no news of Ills sweetheart, he determines to visit this lady. Mrs Weston proves to be a sweet old lady, hut all she can tell him Is that the house the Professor and Enid lived In belonged to her. CHAPTER XII. — (Continued.) He drew up a chair obediently, wondering how he was to begin, wondering if she knew anything of the dreadful deed done in Harlow Gardens. But it was she who spoke first. “It is good of you to come. I have ben reading the papers and I am longing to know what became of the dear Professor. My maid tells me that you have come with tidings of him.” Daryl felt thankful that he had not to break the news of the murder, but he was sorry to be obliged to disappoint her on the score of the Professor. “I wish that I had any tidings of him 1” he said. “But that te what I am come to ask you. Knowing that the house belongs to you 1 thought he might have written to you, or even come to see you.” “Ah! yes, I don’t wonder that you thought so; but he has not been near me nor has he written. 'lt is a terrible affair Indeed. You have had a fearful shock, for I understand you were to have been Enid’s husband.” iHer tone was full of sympathy, but Daryl would have none of it. “No, I am to be her husband!” he said firmly. “I know that she is as innocent as ‘the day and I shall never rest until I have found her.” “And you have no clue at all?” “None. I came here hoping that you might give me one.” She shook her head sadly. “I only wish that I could! The Professor was a friend of Mr Weston’s and I have a great regard for him for the sake of happy old days. It was a great pleasure to me when ho wrote that he was coming to England and would like to take my house for a time.” She relapsed into silenoe and Daryl felt a cold chill of disappointment' oreeping over him. “There is one thing that no doubt you can tell me,” he said, “and that is the name of tho hotel where he meant to go when he gave up the house to Enid and rae.Mrs Weston was sitting with 'her back to the light, so that her face was in shadow, but it seemed to him that a look of surprise passed over it as she spoke. “He never mentioned such a plan to me,” she said, and-then added quiokly, “though, of course, I knew that your marriage would bring changes—it could not he otherwise. But it is no use to talk of that now, we have the present trouble to think of. I hoped with all my heart when I saw your card that you had come to throw some light on the mystery.” There was a deep anxiety in her tone, and Daryl felt drawn to her as to a fellow sufferer. “But if the Professor is an old friend of yours, you must surely know people from whom we could.got information about him?” lie said. But again she shook her head. “It was when we were living in Spain that .1 knew him,” site said. “He had '-not been in England for many years, and had no English acquaintances so far as I know. That was why lie was glad to have my house. Ah I That house! I am afraid that no one will want to live in it again after this; my agent has been to see the police about it, and when it is out of their hands I shall tell him to try and sell it, and have the furniture stored.” Drayl thought of Enid’s room as ho had seen it on that dreadful night—• her dainty dresses, her books, her ornoments, all her little possessions —a lump came up in his throat at the remembrance of them, and ho could harly speak.

“I see by the papers that the servants have disappeared, too,” said Mrs Weston, after a pause. "I know nothing of them, but they have been there for some little while for they were engaged by the last people who rented the house. They will no doubt be traced, and we may hear something from them of the Professor and Enid. You will let me know if you hear anything, and I will do the same by you. I am not often ablo to see people, and I feel that one of my bad rheumatic attacks is on the way now, but you can always write to me if I am too unwell to be seen." She was most kind, most sympathetic,, but Daryl felt terribly downcast as he left the house; he had set ! out that morning full of hope, certain of getting some clue; daring even to fancy that Enid had taken refuge under her old friend’s wing. So confident had he been, indeed, that he had written to Mrs North, telling her that lie was on the track, and that he would report progress after he had been to Hendon. Alas, there was no progress to report, but lie was too restless to remain in his rooms, and as soon as he had had his dinner he made his way up to Regent’s Park. “Well, what news have you?" she exclaimed as lie entered, and then her face fell as she saw his dejected look. : “No news at all," he said sitting j down heavily, “hut I will tell you the whole story." She listened to it attentively, hoping to seize upon some point that he had missed, but all in vain, i “Tiresome obi creature!” she‘said j when he had llnished. “t am sure | she could have, helped you if she could I only have used her brains a little." i Rut Daryl could not. have her accused unjustly in spite of his disappointment. “She was longing to help me." he said, "but she is just as much in the dark as anyone, and when she saw j my card she thought that I had come I to bring nows to her.” | “Have you given her address to the | police?"

(Author of “The Pough of Shame,” "Treasure House,” etc., etc.) (A thrilling Serial of Mystery and Romance.)

"There was no need. She has sent her agent to them already. I might just as well not have remembered her name for all the good that my visit has done. I will never give up the search, but I can’t help thinking of the number of mysteries that have never been cleared up.” “Then don’t think of them!” returned Mrs North. "Fix your mind on the belief that this is going to be one of the solved mysteries! You will And it far more helpful. There! That is Richard’s latchkey; perhaps he will have some news for us." Ilow could Mr North have any news? If anything fresh had been discovered the police would have 'phoned to his chambers, and he haa found no message, no letter, when he returned from Hendon. But, after all, it was Mrs North and not Daryl who proved to be right. Oh! Stanford, I am glay you are here,” he said. "I have Just heard that a clue has been found to the dead man’s identity, and' they think that it will lead to the discovery of the murderer." CHAPTER XIII. Mrs North started as her husband spoke—started and glanced at Daryl. This must mean further pain for’ him, for though she shared his belief in Enid’s innocence, sue had little doubt now in her own mind that it was the Professor who was guilty. But suteh considerations seemed not to trouble Daryl in the least. “lias someone identified the dead man?” he asked eagerly. "Well, it has not gone quite so far as that yet; but they have had a communication from Paris that made them ask for a detective to be sent over, and he arrived by aeroplane this afternoon. They are almost certain that this is a man they have been after for some lime, but one or two point 3 want clearing up.” “And what about the clue to the murderer?” "All! They are retloent about that; but I gathered from the Inspector that if this is the wanted man, he was one of a Secret gang that the-police all over Europe are hot-foot after. They are very keen on finding Wilkins and his wife; nothing has been heard of them, but they must have seen about the crime in the papers, and as no suspicion attaches to them, they can have no reason for keeping out of sight." "Perhaps they think that being out of the affair they had better stay out of it," said Mrs North. “They may;’but if so it is very short-sighted of them. The police are sure to track them sooner or later and to hide away would seem like accusing themselves. If they are wise they will come back to-morrow and give a full account of their movements.” But Wilkins and his wife did not come.hack on the morrow nor could any trace of them be discovered. That they had actually left Harlow Gardens on the Friday was clearly proved, since the charwoman who came to dG the rooms on Saturday morning bore witness that they were not there, and Harris at the newspaper shop had peen them on the platform at Paddington when he went to see a friend off at Reading. But Paddington is a gate that leads to many places and as they had only told Harris that they were going to see some friends 'down West,’ there was not much hope of tracking them. One thing, however, was clearly established before many days had passed, .and that was that the victim of the crime was the man for whom the police were looking, a man who went by the name of Stefan Wrangel The exact nature of a debt that had been paid with his life was not known, or If known was not made public, but the announcement of his identity raised a fresh wave of interest in the affair. Daryl, however, was quite untouched by the general excitement: why Wrangel’s enemies should have decoyed him to the Professor’s house before they put an end to him, he could not imagine, but that both father and daughter were innocent, he was as convinced as ever. Some link there must have been all the same, and as the days ran on into weeks and still nothing was heard of the fugitives, he began to wonder whether lie could not make some enquiries on his own account. Paris was one of the places that Wrangel was known to have frequented—how would It be to go over there and put up at the hotel where the Professor and Enid had stayed? Some one of the staff might be able to tell him if he had ever visited the Professor there. "Yes, you may as well try it," said Mrs North, when he went to consult her. “ I wish my husband and I colild come with you, but his mother is ill and we are obliged to go down to Torquay. There is some leave due to him and he has arranged to be away some little time. You will let me hear at once won’t you, if you drop upon any clue?" • It was with that understanding, that they parted and Daryl had no time to miss his sympathetic adviser, so busy was lie with his own preparations, lie was all eagerness to be off, hut it struck him that it might be well to pay a visit to Hendon first: Spain had also been mentioned in connection with Wrangel and it might be possible that Mrs Weston had come across him there. . The same maid opened the door to him, hut though she recognised him immediately she made no move to let him enter. “ 1 am sorry, but Mrs Weston is unable to see anyone,’’ she said, “ she lias been very unwell since you came last." “Alii she spoke of a threatening attack of rheumatism.” said Daryl. “ liow soon do you think she will lie able “to see visitors'?” " [ could not possibly say, Sir, those attacks sometimes last for weeks. Can 1 give her any message for you?” But I hat- was out of Ihe question: Daryl had intended to put a number of tactful and guarded enquiries about the Professor’s experiences in Spain, enquiries that, could not possibly be entrusted to the maid. "Please tell her that I- shall hope to come and see her as soon as she is heller,” lie said. "Very good. Sir,” was Hie- impassive reply, and there was nothing lelt for him to do but to make his way hark to the station and return to town.

Ho had paid no further visit to Harlow hardens —he had, in furl, tried to [iiit it out of his mind as far as possible; fo" its associations were too pain-

ful to be borne. But thoughts of Mrs Weston naturally brought thoughts of her house, and by the time he reached London he found himself hankering after another sight of it before he started on his journey. Why should he not go? His thoughts could not well be more painful than they were already and if the house was really to be. sold It might be his last chance of seeing the place where he had passed the happiest hours that he had ever known. That thought decided him and he made straight for Harlow* Gardens. He had imagined that the house was still in the hands of the police, but to his surprise the door was opened by a shuffling old caretaker who 1 coughed and wheezed In a most disconcerting manner while he asked him*his business. “ i only wish 'to have a look round the house," said Daryl, for he had no wish to reveal who he was. “All! but that’s just what you can’t do! I’ve got orders to let noone In and I can’t go against 'them for anyone.” " No, but perhaps when you see this —" Daryl had his hand in hts pocket—a couple of half-crowns will often oil the hinges of a grudging lock. But before the old man could take them, a step was heard and a newcomer appeared on the scene-—a slight young fellow with a keen pair of eyes and a confident bearing. “I am sorry not to be able to let you in,” he said, "but w r e have had such shoals of inquisitive people here that we have had to make a rule of refusing everybody." Daryl eyed him curiously as he spoke; there seemed to him something familiar in the face, yet he could not remember where he had seen it. “I came because I am a friend of Professor Deniston’s,” he said, “arid I thought I should like to see the house once more before his things are taken away. The owner tells me that she thinks of selling it." “Indeed! You know her then?" “ Well, I can hardly say I know her. I went to see her at Hendon after — after what happened here." “ In that case there can be no objection to letting you in; but you do not seem to know that Professor Deniston’s things have been moved already. He had no furniture here, only the personal possessions of himself and his daughter and the police have taken charge of those.” What was the use of going over the house then? It was not to look at Mrs Weston’s chairs and tables that Daryl had come, it was to gaze once more on Enid’s things—-the grey velvet mantle, the little brooch that lay pin uppermost on the dressing-table as if she had just flung it down, the dainty pair of slippers that stood by the armchair, waiting for her dear feet to come and nestle into them. “ In that case I will not trouble you further,” he said. “ I have no interest In the house except as regards Us late tenants." "Very well; it is for you to decide. The house will shortly be sold and we are already beginning to move Mrs Weston’s things out. lam her agent —this Is my card if you care to have it." ' lie produced a card from his pocket as he spoke and held It out to Daryl the words Mr James Bennett, . Commission Agent, were printed on it and Daryl glanced at It mechanically—it was of no interest to him, but it would be rude to refuse it. But what did Interest him was that in pulling out the card, Mr Bennett pulled out an envelope at the same time —an envelope that fell on the hall table by which they were standing. With quick fingers he picked It up an! thrust it back into his pocket, but Daryl’s eyes were quicker still and as he left the house he was quivering with excitement at what he had seen. The letter was addressed to Mrs Weston in Professor Deniston’s wellknown hand-writing, and the postmark—a clear and distinct impression —was Rexfleld. CHAPTER XIV. Paris might have been wiped off the the face of the map for all the thought that Daryl gave to it now. He trusted that the dapper little Commission Agent had not seen the' start he gave as he recognised the handwriting. Where was Rexfleld? lie would find out, \and be off that very day. Enid! Enid lie felt as It ■lie were at her side already, looking into her eyes, kissing her lips, holding her close against his heart.

But then —a formless doubt came creeping in upon him like a cloud of mist —if the Professor was in England, and in communication, moreover, with Mrs Weston and her agent, why had lie not come forward long ago and told the true story of the murder? He mtist know that to hide away was to excite suspicion—suspicion that was absolutely unjustifiable, of course, but deep-rooted all the same. Let that go, however; there must be some good reason for the flight; what mattered now was that he should find them. Where was Rexfleld? He dashed into the first Tubo Station that he passed, and bough-t a Bradshaw at the bookstall.

Gloucestershire; he stood turning the leaves, his lips tense, his forehead puckered into a frown; the jostling stream of people brushed against him as they passed in and out, but he paid no heed to them. The Cotswolds! Those enchanting little hills, with quaint little grey stone towns and tiny villages tucked away in their folds—and one went to the 'Cotswolds from Paddington—and it was on the Paddington platform that Harris had seen Wilkins and his wife I His eye gleamed, and his breath camo quickly—he was on their track at last. Ho had meant to go to the Police

Station when he got back from Hendon to give the Inspector his address 1 In Paris; it was as well that he had not yet done so, and as for the present clue, he meant to follow it up himself before he gave a hint of it to anyone, j His first delicious moments with Enid : should not be clouded with any j legal proceedings. To rush to Pad- j dington then and there was his de- j sire, but Bradshaw told him that there j was no direct train till the next morn- j ing, and it would be better to go back to Regency Chambers and get a few I things. | Dusk was falling as he crossed St. James’ Park, and as he sped along he ! nearly collided with a man who was j corning in the opposite direction. He j muttered a word of apology, and then exclaimed in surprise: "Why, Rivers I They told me you were in the heart of Africa 1" “Well, so I was In . the heart of Africa t I only came back yesterday, and I have just been giving my report to my chief. I have to start off on another job In a few days, so it is good luck to have fallen upon you." It was In Edinburgh that they had met, when Daryl was at the University and Rivers was starting on a journalistic career. They had been very good friends, and Daryl would have been delighted to see him again at any other time. But now! When he was all on fire to get back to his rooms that he might unpack the suitcase that he had prepared for the Paris visit, and stow away a few necessaries in a bag! But it was too dark for Rivers to see his reluctant look, and he thrust a friendly hand through his arm. "Come and have something to eat,” he said. “I have been at the olllco all day, and had no time for lunch.”

No invitation could have been more unwelcome, yet Daryl did not refuse it; since he could not start that night he had loads of time for his preparations; a meal was a necessity, and it would be better to eat it in company with Rivers than alone j with his thoughts. Did Rivers know what had happened to him since they last met? He wondered; but he hoped that if ho had know lie would have s the good sense to say nothing about it. He plied his friend with questions about his African adventures, as they made their way to the restaurant, and kept him to the subject all through dinner. But when the meal was over, and they adjourned to the lounge for coffee and a smoke, Rivers leaned suddenly forward and dropped his voice to a coriflcntial key. "I know all about your trouble, old fellow,” he said. “I saw it In the English papers when I got down to Zanzibar. I am more sorry for you than I can say; she was one of the most charming girls I have ever had the luck to meet.” Daryl shot a quick glance at him. This was something he had not expected. "Where did you see her? he demanded.

"When I was in Vienna, a year ago last Christmas. I was sending in reports for my paper, and Professor Deniston and I used to foregather in the news offices there —a nice old chap, with his head in the clouds. But his daughter I 1 wasted some sighs in that quarter, I can tell you; but they were useless, for though you had not yet appeared on the horizon, Stefan Wrangel was her perpetual bodyguard." , , . The start that Daryl gave sent his coffee cup to the ground, and Rivers picked it up with a word of regretful apology. “It was stupid of me to say anything," he said. “You have been through too bad a time to be able to talk about it. But when I heard of the murder I said to myself that no one need be sorry that that debt was paid —the world is well rid of a rascal! Ho turned as he spoke and called to the waiter to bring more coffee, and to Daryl’s intense relief a man who was sitting at a neighbouring table sprang up and came towards them. “Where on earth did you spring from, Rivers?” he said. "I have been looking and wondering, whether it could possibly be you; but I could not be sure till you turned your head." Could anything be more opportune . Questions and explanations followed, and in the midst of them Daryl excused himself and slipped away. He had put a farly good face on it, but the shock was a staggering one all the same. , ...... He had said at-the inquest that if Enid had had a former love affair, he must have known of it, because there was complete confidence between them He had believed it when he said it—believed it with all his whole heart —but he could not help wondering now whether the Inspector had not been right wnen he told him that he did not know as much about the Professor and his daughter as he thought he did. (To be continued.)