Doors of Destiny

Waikato Times, Volume 111, Issue 18652, 2 June 1932, Page 4

Doors of Destiny

By CONSTANCE BROMLEY.

s I An Enthralling Story of Theatrical Life, 8

| SYNOPSIS. I Hope Sterling', a young actress, gets her first part In a play by a budding dram list named Brian Ctiarteris. So fully does Hope throw herself into h . er p f. r .L me gains a great success and arouses the ivy of Mag-da Tempest, theiSf.n disdain -ho treats her with unconcealed disdain, .here is an accident on the stage, a ham mer dropped rrom above knocking Hope senseless. . , . of t v,„ Michael Gelding, an odd-job man at the theatre, had formerly been employed as chauffeur by Harding, Magda s husband. Magda hated her husband, an t cl Michael to tamper with the motor- car so that Harding, who drove it,. Then she flouted her deliverer and drove him to ruin. , , . Meanwhile Lord Stoneleigh, who financed the play, Invited tne company to visit his houseboat. „„ na There Lord Stoneleigh natters Hope, and tells her that Brian Charterls isi tk assumed name or one who S ears p had to flee the country for a serious orfence. Madga is incensed Hy the attention paid to Hope, and percelvir. o a weak rail on the boat conceives a plan ot levense. She invites Hope to lean ag-ainst the rail, which gives way and precipitates -tne latter Into the water. , Meanwhile Lord Stoneleigh, who financed the play, Invited the company to 1113 houseboat. Stoneleigh pays Hope marked attention, and unsuccessfully tried to prejudice Brian charterls In Hope s estimation. Magda becomes Insanely jealous or Hope, and contrives an “ accident by which the latter falls Into the water. Just as Hope is on the point of drowning Brian appears on the scene and rescues her. He kisses 'her and proclaims his love. Hope speedily recovers from her immersion and though very nervous, _is ready to play her part on the opening night or the new play. Brian’s play Is a great success and Hope enjoys a personal triumph. Lord Stoneleigh flatters Hope hut is sharply reminded that she is engaged to Brian. Michael Gelding forces his way into Magda’s dressing room and threatens to kill her, hut the old fascination triumphs, and Michael is once more Magda’s willing slava.

Hope sees Brian Charterls in company with Lady Cynthia in a Bond Street shop, and is vaguely jealous of their apparent intimacy. Leaving the shop, Hope meets Lord Stoneleigh and accepts an invitation to n supper party. Mrs Bruce, who is temporarily acting as Hope’s dresser, warns her against Lord Stoneleigh. Mrs Bruce learns that Lord Stoneleigh has enveigled Hope into his Ilat by trickery. She goes to his flat and brings hope away.

CHAPTER XXII. The following morning found Brian avcl Stanley Keen at Stoneleigh Towers. Keen had his own way of doing things, and with a ladder borrowed from the head gardener he was examining carefully every bit of the ivycovered balcony below Lord Stonelelgh’s bedroom windows. Up and dowm he went, foot by foot, while Brian below' paced about smoking innumerable cigarettes, and awaiting developments. He was getting tired of hanging about doing nothing, when Keen descended rapidly and approached him. “Mrs Bruce was quite right," he said. "I am of opinion that a man climbed down—and probably he first climbed up—that balcony on Sunday night.” "What makes you think so?" asked Brian .eagerly. "This.” ‘This’ was a piece of black mohair boot lace out of,a man’s boot, which Keen held in the palm of Ills hand. “Where did you find it?” “It was caught on a twig of ivy about half-way up. You will see it is soft and pliant. Had it been exposed to the weather at all it would have become hard and brittle. Also, where it broke away it is all torn, showing signs of having been torn apart by the twig upon ,\vhich I found it. At the same place too, the ivy is much crushed, as though by the thrusts of heavy boots. It is certain someone has climbed that ivy." “What’s your ncM move?” asked Brian, suppressing his excitement. “I want to find out if anyone purchased a pair of bootlaces in the village yesterday—any stranger.” “That’s not difficult. I saw only one small general shop as we passed through.” “That’s just it. You know how helpless a man is with an unfastened boot. If this man left the village on foot, as I imagine he did, he couldn’t Walk very far without a lace in one of his boots.” “Let’s go and inquire," suggested Brian, and getting in the car which was standing by, they set off for the village street with its fe\v cottages and tiny post office. “It’s not mucli to go upon,” said Keem thoughtfully, pulling away at his pipe. “The .dry weather of the past month has so hardened the ground that there are no footprints to aid us.” “But you are satisfied that someone did climb up that' way, as M"s Bruce declared." “Yes, I am satisfied, but we must have proof.” “What a thread to hang a hope upon I” sighed Brian. “Slenderer threads than this have hanged men before to-day, Charterls," said Keen. Presently they came out into the village street, and pulled up at the little general shop which was Post Office and universal provider for the few inhabitants of the adjacent cottages. Alighting from the car, Brian followed Keen-inside, and watched him as his sharp eyes swept over the contents of the rickety shelves. All at once a close observer would have seen the merest flicker of an eyelid as ihe espied a box of men’s mohair bootlaces nlmost hidden from view' in a conglomeration of household articles. ”1 want a pair of boot-laces,” he said to the’ rosy-cheeked old lady behind the tiny counter. "Thank ye, sir. Will these suit yo?” getting down the box from over her head. “Yes, I think so,” said Keen. “How much ?’’ "Fouvpenoe, if you please, sir." lie tendered four coppers in payment, while the woman wrapped them up for him in a scrap of newspaper. As ho took them he asked with a smile, “Am 1 the first customer for these. 1 soo the box is almost a new one.” "I sold one other pair, sir—to a stranger, yesterday marnlng. lie had busted his bootlace walking fra Lunnon, so he said, and’ he stopped to put one in bis hoot before lie left ttio shop." “Really. Well, now, I’m lookingfor a gentleman with a busted bootlace I Can you tell me what he looked like?" “Oh, ho looked a decent sort o’ chap," replied the old lady, thoughtfully. “He didn’t ’nve much to say for ’tinself. He was a big man. with broad shoulders. A stranger in these parts I should say. He bought some cigarettes, too, and asked he how lav it was to the next village." "Oh. to Wlckenham, you mean?”

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"Yes. He said he wanted to walk back to Lungon.” “Did he set off in that direction, do you think?” “I think so, sir. He set off down the hill .past the station.” “Thank you."

Without further speech Keen and Brian left the shop. Once outside Brian turned to Keen and asked. “What do you make of that?” “It confirms my belief that the man who lost the best part of his boot lace climbing- up that Ivy took the first chance to replace it. Further, I’m inclined to think he had very good reasons for wishing to return to London on foot, in preference to taking the train.”

"By jove! I think we ought to run out to Wlckenham and see if w’e can learn anything there!” “Just what I was going to suggest,” remarked Keen. Once more they set out In Brian’s car and sped back along the London road to Wickenham, a little village, about fourteen miles away. Arrived there, Brian pulled up at the inn, and entered, ostensibly to seek some refreshment.

Over their glasses of beer they sought to question the landlord as lo any visit of the stranger. “Much traific this way?" asked Keen as he drank the name-brewed ale. "Not a lot, sir,” -answered the barman. “We ain’t big enough to hold u; the motor folk, except them as liketheir food plain and homely. What we ’ave is -good, sir, but it’s maybe a bi! rough for them as can pay for something better.” “Any stranger this way yesterday, walking to London?” “Well, sir, we did ’ave a -stranger ’ere yesterday, but I-couldn’t say where he was bound for. ’E had some bread and cheese and beer and hung round for a bit. Then I seed him go off or. -Farmer Lowden’s cart about three o’clock.” “Who is Farmer Lowden?" asked Keen.

“He deals in pigs and poultry, and yesterday was his day for drivin’ inlc market a: Steen wi’ his killin’.” “That’s on the way to London, isn’t It?"

“Oh, aye, about half a mile off -the main road.”

- “Farmer Lowden was giving him a lift, I suppose?" “I guess that was it, sir. I seed ’em drive off together. Farmer Low den always looks in ’-ere for a glass oj ale before starting for Steen market.’ Brian and Keen consulted together whilst the barman turned to attend tr the requirements -of a customer, am’ decided to seek out Farmer Lowden in the hope of gaining more detailed in formation about the stranger, The\ sought direction from the barman and learning that the Lowden farn was only a few minutes’ walk from the inn, they set -out, leaving the cai standing outside the inn. It was not long before they ran Farmer Lowden to earth, and ques Honed him upon 'the matter. “Yes, that be right, sirs. A strange’ rode wi’ me as fur as the Three NunInn yesterday.”

“The Three Nuns at Steen?" queried Brian. “Aye, sir. He was- a quiet sort or chap, clean shaved, and dark. ‘Gobi’ to Lunnon,’ -he said, -and when I turned off t’ main road to go to Steen market, ’e jumped down and went into thr Inn. ’E -asked me to ’ave a drink wi’ him, but I was a bit late, and didn't want to stop, bein’ as how I was due wi’ my killin’ at market." The farmer’s description -of the man didn't lead them much further than the -old lady’s at the general shop. They now took him to-be a young man of about thirty-five or thirty-six years of age, with black, rather thick, curling halr, and 'heavy eyebrows. There seemed to be nothing -to distinguish him from any ordinary young man, either in looks or speech. Thoughtfully they turned back to the inn, discussing the next move.

“I promised Hope I would visit her about noon,” said Brian, “and it’s getting that way now. What do you think we had better do?” “Well," replied Keen, "I think we may as well run out -to the Three Nunns. It’s-'only-about ten miles further on, and we can get back to Stoneleigb inside of a couple of hours. It may he worth -our while.” ‘‘Righto!" assented Brian cranking up the engine, and off they started again. The Three Nuns stood at the junction -of the London road and the road leading to the village of Slcen. Its three "dormer windows each were topped by the elfigy of a nun fashioned of wood and -plaster. Quickly Brian and Keen alighted and entered the inn.

Once -again they traced the stranger, the landolrd having talked for some time with 'him on the subject or the murder of Lord Stoneleigh the day before. "The newspapers had just reached the Inn with the report of the tragedy, and the man had discussed it at some length, scornfully ridiculing the Idea that a young girl had had anything to do with the crime. Brian and Keen exchanged significant looks at this remark of the landlord’s.

‘‘Did he say where he was going?” asked Keen, once more. “Yes, to London. When I said it was a bit of a walk, he said he liked walking. Said it was the only thing he liked doing in the war! He said Ills feet -had always been better than his head!” “Anything- else?”

“Ho wrote a -letter before he left, and a mighty long one it was, too. 1 -chaffed him about it, and asked him if he was writing to a girl, but he made a queer answer to that." “Indeed, what was it?” asked Keen, while Brian waited eagerly for the reply. "Well, he sairl that although it wasn’t a letter to a girl, it was written for the sake of a girl, which sounded very mysterious to me.” ■What did he do wltk the letter? Did he post it?” “I saw him seal it and put it away -carefully in the inside pocket of ills coat, and I chaffed him about that, too. 1 think it was a love letter myself, by the trouble lie look over it.'”

Stanley Keen asked the landlord if he could have a look at any blottingpad or hook the stranger used when lie wrote the letter, and the landlord produced a limp and tattered bloltliigj>oo k that had seen much service. He explained -that he gave it, lo the stranger along with the pen and ink he asked for.

Hell ring lo a corner of the liar parlour, out of sight, of Ilio inquisitive eyes of ! 1 1 c lan< 11or< 1, Keen sal-down In examine I lie leaves of I lie Hotter, rarefuily scrulln'slng every page Hi rough a magnifying glass. At the end of I he book were some pages only slightly used, hut the majority were useless fe£ Ms jpurjywe,

Presently Keen removed a page and lianded It Brian. “See anything in that top •corner?" he asked, pointing with his Anger. Brian took the page and looked at it intently. “I’m not sure, but I seem to see the word “police." Keen smiled, and passed him the magnifying-glass. “To me it appears to be three words 'To the Police.’" “By jove! I believe you’re right!" exclaimed Brian, handing back the paper and glass to Keen. Keen rose and put the piece of blot-ting-paper In his pocket-book, carefully folded. “We may as well get back to the Towers. I think we can be quite certain that the stranger knows something about the murder, and has communicated that something to paper—for what reason we shall have to wait and see. Probably the communication was in the form of an anonymous letter to the police—a common occurence." Brian and Keen returned to the car and were soon tearing back again along the road to Stoneleigh, not altogether dissatisfied with their morning’s investigation. CHAPTER XXXIII. Inspector Gatesby was having the time of his life. Over thirty years in the Force, he had never had a thrill like the murder of Lord Stoneleigh, and he was quite convinced in his own small mind that nothing could prove Hope innocent of the crime. It was in vain that Brian suggested to him that if Hope was struggling in the Earl's arms she would not be in a position to stab him in the back —not by any stretch of imagination. However, it was easy to see that the Inspector would believe whatever lie wanted to believe, and both Brian and his friend Keen had to make up their minds that the onus of proving her innocent would rest on them.

Mrs Bruce haunted the little police station in Stoneleigh village. She appeared to be unable to drag herself away from the place where she had last seen Hope, and instead of returning to London with the rest of the company, she had taken rooms in the village to be near her daughter, even [hough there was little chance of her being allowed to see her, for she dared not say who she really was. When Brian and Keen drove up to the Station in the little two-seater, she was standing outside, a pathetic figure, pale and wan, her very real distress showing in her tear-dimmed eyes.

Brian went up to her. "Mrs Bruce, you shouldn’t be here. You can do nothing for Hope,” he said, sadly.

"Oh, sir, If only I could be near her to comfort her! Won’t they let me? She would rather have me than anyone else, I know, and it must be so dreadfully lonely and wretched to have no one to talk to.”

"I’m afraid they will never allow it, Mrs Bruce, but wait here until I have seen Inspector Gatesby," and ho entered the building with Stanley Keen.

“Good morning, Inspector," said Keen. “You weren’t up when we arrived this morning, or I should have sought this Interview before." “Well, you will appreciate,” said the Inspector, pompously, “that havng been up half the night on this case, 1 required to get a few hours sleep before coming on duty." "Oh, quite, quite," said Keen, amiably. "I understand you discovered no "clue that required following up— I mean a clue leading away from Miss Sterling?” The Inspector* smiled a pitying smile. “Why run after the quarry when you’ve caught it?" he asked sententiously. "But how do you know you've caught the right one?" "My dear sir 1 The evidence ifoverwhelmingly in favour of my theory that Miss Sterling, and no one else, murdered Lord Stoneleigh.” This was more than Brian could stand. Springing to his feet he almost shouted at the Inspector. "Then you're a crass idiot! Miss Sterling was held fast in Lord Stoneleigh’s arms in a desperate struggle to defend her honour! She had no opportunity to strike the blow, even if such a thought occurred to her.” “We have only the lady’s word for it that Lord Stoneleigh entered iier room unbidden, and that a struggle took place,” remarked the Inspector In a tone of sarcasm. This time it was Keen who had to restrain Brian, or he would most assuredly have thrown the Inspector out of the room 1 “Sec here, Brian, you must try and keep cool. Inspector Gatesby hayformed a certain theory which, in his mind, at least, is amply upheld by circumstantial evidence. Let me -talk to him for a few moments." .Brian sat down again, restraining himself with difficulty. (To he continued.)