The Shot In the Dell

Waikato Times, Volume 113, Issue 18849, 20 January 1933, Page 4

The Shot In the Dell

BY H. L. Deakin. (Author of “The Secret of the Cove,” etc.)

SYNOPSIS. Superintendent dess', or Scotland Yard, ts lnvestig-atlns tlio murder or Graeme au drewe, who lias been round dead on a scat in the dell, with a revolver hcsldo mm. The shot had been heard by various people at the Plough and Daisy inn, inelud ns Mrs Hadley: MaJorTSster, who tells t e story; Joscelyn Sanders, daughter or the local doctor; Ingram, the ex-Ruby mternational; Clegg himseir, who is staying at the Inn ,on holiday; and by Major Fur7 ; c ' a bachelor, who should have dined at tne Andrewes’ on the night or the murder, but Andrewe had gone out somewhere, ami Marguerite, his wife, had such a ba.i headache that she was unable to see him. The Plough and Daisy Inn was Kept by Mrs Hadley’s twin nephews, Dan and Cecil, But Graeme Andrewe had recently Riven the boys notice to quit, and they liaa decided to try their luck In South But now comes news that their passages had been cancelled the day berore Andrewe’s death, without a word to anyone, not even to Joscelyn, who is engaged to Dan. Clegg Interviews Mrs Andrewe, to break the news to her, and comes away convinced that she already knew or her husband’s death. Andrewe’s car Is found bogged in tne sand, with the spare tyre badly ripped. Dr. Sanders’ boat disappears on the night or the murder. . Gigantic footprints are round in the sand, also the Imprint of a revolver. Part of a letter is found on Andrewes body, referring to a meeting place by some steps. The footprints are traced to Andrewe s garage. , . A pistol belonging to Dan, which he usually keeps in his desk, is missing. Dan refuses to say where he was at eight o’clock on the night or the murder. Joscelyn volunteers the information that she cycled passed Andrewo’s car that night, near the beach at six o’clock. lie had evidently had a bad burst, and was changing a wheel. She didn’t stop to speak to him, being sore about his turning Cecil and Dan out. She admits hearing the report of the bursting tyre before overtalcing him.

CHAPTER Xll.—(Continued.) “Lot us sit down,” he said. “What is this you are telling me about a burglary? You say you are police, but I don’t understand what you are doing here at Trescobeas so early in the morning. Is it because someone has broken into my house? But there's nothing worth taking?” “No, no, we’re not here on your behalf,” Clegg explained, with the air of patient kindliness he had for all, but the few that aroused his contempt. And Du Tilleul I could see he pitied. “We’re here to investigate the murder of Graeme Andrewe," he added. Never have I seen a man more dumbfounded than Du Tilleul. Ills mouth trembled until his beard shook. Twice he tried to speak, but couldn’t, and when at last lie did manage to gasp out a word it was—“ Murder?" with sucli an accent of despair that it would have been funny if his distress hadn't been so touching.

“Ho was murdered, -yes," said Clegg placidly. “Surely you knew?” The trembling of poor Du Tilleul’s head became intensified to a shake betokening ignorance. “I know nothing. I’ve seen no one. I took a taxi out from Penarrow, but though I naturally wanted nows I didn't ask the driver any questions. In my profession we learn to be discreet; and a suicide is not a thing a family likes discussed everywhere." “Then what brought you back?" 1 asked, wondering if the man could be acting. He slewed round In his chair to stare at me with frightened eyes. “I saw the report of his suicide in Hie Continental edition of the Daily Mail," he said miserably. “Why, if he was murdered, did they say it was suicide?”

“That xvas what it was thought to be at first,” Clegg explained. “Then I suppose there’ll be an inquiry?” “Exactly. And that’s why we’ve been so anxious for your return; we have hopes that what you may be able to tell us of Andrewe’s business concerns may throw some light on his death. Do you know anything of a will, for instance?” “Nothing." The denial was absolute. “Mr Cuthbertson could only tell us that he was thinking of making one,” Clegg went on, with an air of thinking aloud. “Cuthbertson?” Du Tilleul cleared his throat. “You’ve consulted Culhbcrlson?" ilis effort to appear indifferent was pitiable. “Well, really, we had to do it,” Clegg was very apologetic. “You were away, and you’d left no address, and we had no knowledge of the date of your return, so, as it was essential to our inquiries that we should know more of Andrewe’s business affairs, we consulted Cuthbertson. We knew, you see, that Andrewe had made an appointment with him for Monday, and though that appointment was never kept, wo hoped from the fact of its having been made that Culbertson might have some information for

us." “And had he?” asked Du Tilleul as if he were choking. I saw Clegg’s thumb steal to his mouth, but in a moment ho had come to a decision. “None," he said blandly. “And so, Mr Du Tilleul, we rely on you. You left here on the Monday evening, did you not?" I wondered if Du Tilleul had noticed that this question had nothing to do with Andrewe’s business affairs, but a great deal to do with himself. “Yes," he roused himself to answer after a pause, “I caught the nine-forty-five train to London.” “From Polslow?” “From Polstow, yes. I didn’t leave my office until late, and then 1 came .across here for my bag, and returned to Polstow by the nine-fifteen boat.” “What time was it when you eamc over here?” 1 asked, for Clegg was gazing out of the window in a brown study as if he’d learnt all lie wanted to know. Du Tilleul seemed a little resentful of the question, possibly because It was I that had put it. “1 came over by the eight o’clock boat,” lie said, "so I suppose .1 got hero about a qunrtcr-pasi eight. But why should you want in know all this? Was Dial the. night my house was broken in I o ? 1 (bought. H was lasi night ” "Where did tin* ferry land you?” Clegg broke in sharply. ‘Must, this side of Hie point. If I'd been aide lo ralrli I lie seven-lhirly Iron I, 1 should have been landed up hero, bill the tide was 100 low for (here in lie enough waler. I came along by Hie road ’’ "See anyone?" Clegg inleiTnjdcd. Dn Tilleul was looking still more surprised at (lie trend of the qncslions put lo him, but be answered readily enough. "No, llial's lo sa>, not on liio road. 1 saw Cecil Hadley at the door of Ibc bungalow, speaking lo .Mrs Andrewe.” “Hid ‘.\ou speak In Ihem?" DU Tilled! shook his head. "Ymi sec, 1 was trespassing. And Andrewe was most particular tlusl his grom’sU

An outstanding detective story, full of thrilling incidents.

shouldn't be used as a short cut from the ferry to 1 the village. Hoircver, on Monday night, being in a hurry, I came through his garden; but I bad no wish lo be caught at it, so when I saw Airs Andrewe in the verandah, I kept to the lawn and in the shadow of the trees.” “And so you didn't hear anything of what she and Cecil were saying?” . “Not a word; I was much too far away. But she seemed to have something very particular to say to- young Hadley the way she was hanging on lo his arm. It made me all the more anxious to keep out of their way.” “Pity you did,” remarked Clegg. “I wish they’d seen you." Du Tilleul looked mystified. “I don’t understand,” he complained, giving expression to my own state of mind. “What has all this to do with my house being broken into—why should my movements on that evening interest you?” Clegg came out plump with a reason for his interest, though whether the only one I took leave to doubt. “I thought you might have heard the shot," he said simply. “I did hear a shot —just as I left the ferry—Du Tilleul paused, and finally burst out. “You don’t mean that Andrewe was killed then?” “At eight o’clock,” I said. “In the deli below the garden. Du Tilleul’s mouth, wide open in horror, slowly closed as we stared at each other. “I took it to be someone after a rabbit,” bo said at last. “I never gave it a second thought.” And then suddenly, as he saw, or thought he saw, the trend of Clegg's questions, he flushed and flared up. “You don’t think I did it?”

Clegg was silent, and it was impossible to tell from bis impassive face what he thought. “But I wasn’t in the garden at eight o’clock,” Du Tilleul went on “I’d only just left the ferry. Oh, I see through your questions now; I see now why it was a pity I didn’t speak to Mrs Andrewe. But how is it they don’t know what happened? They were there.” “Mrs Andrewe has informed us that she didn’t leave her room during the whole of 'that . evening,” said Clegg dryly. But Du Tilleul’s interest In his own part of the drama was too great for him to have much to waste on the account of Mrs Andrewe might choose to give of hers, and he merely raised his eyebrows before going on. “The ferryman can tell you that I came over by that boat.” "Can anyone tell us exactly where you were at eight o’clock?”

Du Tilleul flushed up an angry red. “No!” he cried. “No one can tell you that, I’ve no- alibi. Therefore 1 shot him. Oh, you police 1" “Steady, steady!" Clegg broke in. “I don’t suppose fr a moment that you shot him. I may say I believe all that you’ve told us, and it’s onormously interesting and helpful. But shall we forget the murder now, and turn our attention to this very perplexing burglary?” “Why very perplexing?” muttered Du Tilleul suspiciously. “You say there is nothing here for anyone to take," Clegg reminded him. "Now, I’m wondering if by any chance you had some papers here of interest to anyone?" “None.”

“No papers of Andrewe’s?" “None. .1 keep them all at the office. I’ve no papers here. None at all, none at all,” he repeated, but with such an obvious effort that I placed not the slightest credence in the denial. “I see,” Clegg mused. “Then that looks as if Mrs Drew were right, and it was the letter ho came for.” “I don't understand you,” Du Tilicul interposed quickly. “What letter?" “A registered letter from your banker in Dorking." At this statement, made so blandly that it seemed as if there could be no question of its accuracy, poor Du Tilleul went as white as be had done on first seeing us. “A letter—from Dorking?” he stammered. “You have the advantage of me. I know nothing of any letter. Where is it?” “Not li ere, I’m afraid,” replied Clegg, and from Ills tone I guessed that he was pleased with the success attending what could only have been a bow drawn at a venture. “The gentleman who came in by that window during the night most probably has it in his possession. But we hope you can tell us what was in the letter?” Clegg continued persuasively. “I’m sorry I cannot," replied Du Tilleul. “You say it was from a bank in Dorking, but as I don't bank in Dorking, I can only think that it must have concerned some client. And what It was about I know no more than you. I have not been in communication with anyone in Dorking.” Clegg -sighed. “Well, as I say, it’s a mysterious affair. I’m sorry you can’t give us any help.” He glanced at his watch and rose. “And you say that when you saw Andrewe on Saturday lie had nothing to say about making a will?” “I said nothing of the sort,” retorted Du Tilleul. Clegg shook his head with a smile. “You’ll be telling me next that you didn’t see Andrewe on Saturday.” Du Tilleul hesitated. “I certainly saw him,” he said stiffly. “At my office. You got the information from my clerk, I suppose?” “No," said Clegg, absent-mindedly,

"no, not exactly." lie consulted his watch again. “Ten 'o’clock, Foster. Do you think they will give us some breakfast at the inn? I am sure Du Tilleul is anxious lo got. his.” ‘‘lf you have no more questions lo ask me?" said (he Frenchman, with a return lo Hie incivility lie had shown at the opening of our interview. "You’ve examined the whole house, l suppose?" “By no means,” Clegg corrected. We’ve done no more than just.glance round this room.” "Mill you’ve seen enough?” “finite, Humic you.” Clegg smilingly look his leave, and as I followed him Du Tilleul banged the door shut close upon his heels, ‘ And if you wauled to know, as badly as he does, how I knew lhal llial. leller was from a hank in Dorking, you'll feel like hanging doors," Clegg remarked. “Bui why dldn'l he ask you why vmi knew?” 1 said siupidly. "lie enllldn'l do lhal wilhoul admitting Huai il \va> from a hank lliere. and lhal he wasn't prepared lo do. I’oor fellow ! He'd ghe a 10l lo learn how iimrli I know. I shouldn't care | ■ lie in Ilis slate of lineerlainl \." " \ud how did you know | began. (To he Com,lined.)