THE TENTH EMERALD

Waikato Times, Volume 118, Issue 19665, 27 August 1935, Page 4

THE TENTH EMERALD

By LINDSAY HAMILTON

(Author of “The Black Asp,” “John Smith. —Blackmailer,’

Etc., Etc.)

I SYNOPSIS. I Clive Anstey is the managing director of the Continental branch -\ n , st % NA ! White, jewellers anti art rtea !crs - ?r! 1 l" months ag-o an emerald tro»s, contain ng ! ten stones, once the property of L - | XIV. came Into his hands. He sent it o I his firm in I.onrtnn. , Arnold .Mortimer, who has done consm i erablo business for Anstey and wnitewith collectors, takes charge ol the cios ami oilers to find a customer for It. n wnile it is in his possession his uai burgled and the cross stolen. For certain reasons Clive 3US J®,, \ v ‘ r tte°, inner of raking the robbery, art “ Ah 1 of to him from Parts under the nß ™,, aue Eden, posing as a collector of antique Egyptian emeralds. The tj 811 .,}!-* wr i tBS ful. for after an interval Mortimer writ that he has boon fortunate enough to fln Eden three exceptionally A n ® s ,n aufrmcnt Ann Littlejohn, in an effort to. augment her widowed mother’s lnc °™ e ' h g_ crlpp°ed tain necessary del cades tor her cnppma brother, takes a Job at Simon- -> t g in the Brampton Road ® to VicKe» follow worker, an’d is engaged to tor. old Slmon’3 son. . n the Joe Bland, an ex-C.I.D. man, not o straight, Is in Mortimer s pay. n a iph, Mortimer has a half-brother Raipm whom he uses as his pawn. The relation between the two is kept secret. olfi Mortimer often has business Simon, and is a regular vl3lt °r ‘myites shop, k- is in love with Ann He nvites Ann, Betty and Victor to dinnerJlL™ Eden While the party is In ’ fit _ calls, and is invited to join them- Aft dinner Mortimer produces thei tnree emeralds. Suddenly there Is a crash on the landing outside. Phelps, the elderj butler, has apparently fallen down the stairs with a tray of crockery. (Eom, inr his own ends, has previously arranged 'his crash with Phelps). On re-entering the room two or the emeralds are missing. All are willing to be searched exc ept Ann. She, on a sudden Impulse, has “ a sprig of grapes Into her handbag to take home, to her brother. The discovery of them would be too humiliating. Clive, who has fallen in love with her, offers to escort her home. He tak e® to a restaurant and there produces one the emeralds from his pipe. (He hlmsei Is puzzled as to the disappearance of the second stone.) . _ At Simon’s the next day Ann buds the other emerald In her handbag, (sue nas a good idea that this is the work of Betty Marks, who is violently jealous of the attention Mortimer pay Ann), time Mrs Littlejohn’s income is very much

was neither to my flat nor to the Register Office. Will you tell me exactly what happened, Mrs Littlejohn. I was to have called here for her in my own car. She knew that. “Yes I know,” Airs Littlejohn broke in. “And I thought it so odd. After all, nothing should be allowed to interfere with wedding arrangements. Really, I was astonished. It seemed

was neiiner iu glster Office. Will you tell me exactly what happened, Mrs Littlejohn. I was '.to have called here for her in my own car. She knew that, i “Yes I know,” Mrs Littlejohn broke in. “And I thought it so odd. After all, nothing should be allowed to interfere with wedding arrangements. I Really, I was astonished. It seemed I so ” . | “Yes, yes,” said Mortimer, striving; Ito control his impatience. “What was ] ' the message? Who brought it? I “You know, the new man you have just engaged. Though, of course, if vou never sent the message, perhaps he—oh, dear! it’s terribly bewildering. II don’t know what to think.” Johnny added his voice to make Mortimers’ task of dragging informa--1 i tion from Mrs Littlejohn even more i difficult. “What’s Ann been doing? ' i Isn’t she getting married? Isn’t she? i Mortimer strode over and closed the [ : door on the interrupter, “We’re wasting time, Mrs Littlejohn,” he said [ urgently. “Who was this man What ! was he like?” ! Mrs Littlejohn smiled brightly as i though to reassure him. She herself had no qualms for Anne’s safety. It | was all very odd, but complicated misunderstandings always were very odd. 1 ' “Oh, Ann knew him,” she said. “He ' was the waiter who fell downstairs ■ and was dismissed for it. 1 thought it so nice of you to take pity on the poor ; man.” ! Mortimer gave a start. “Phelps? ' Was that the name?” “So It was. I never can remember : names as a rule, but yes, that was it. He explained that you had been called away to attend to some very important matter—passports, I think he said. And as the time was so short you were sending a car for Ann, and would meet her at the Register Office.” Mortimer was thinking hard. If Phelps was in this thing, then so might

time Mrs Littlejohn’s Income Is very much reduced. Arm is at her wits’ end. Mortimer steps In in the nick of time and oilers marriage. In despair she agrees. Phelps has been dismissed front Mortimer’s service, hut Clive takes a house on the downs and Installs the old man there as butler. Phelps has a son in the C.I.D. Clive (lies to Paris to make certain the emerald is from the cross, and news comes that he has crashed. Bland finds out who Clive really Is, and tells Mortimer. The. latter realises he Is suspected. Clive is in a French nursing home and Ann hears that he has lost his memory. Mortimer and Ann are to be married on Thursday. CHAPTER XII.— (Continued.) There was no sign of Ann when he arrived, hut it still wanted a few minutes to the quarter. He got out and stood on the herb looking this way and that. But. as the minutes passed, and there was still no sign of Ann, his •expression grew more strained and anxious. What could be detaining her? A woman might be late for every other appointment, but she would never be late for a wedding. Two o’clock struck. He could stand tlie inaction no longer. He motioned

Sergeant Phelps he 100. Anstey was lying out of action. Who was the man behind this conspiracy against him? lie could hazard not even a guess. “Did yon see the car?” he ashed. “Oli, yes. it was a very nice car. Most suitable for a wedding, with vases of flowers on either side of the chauffeur," said Mrs Littlejohn. “Was there anyone else besides the chauffeur?’ “No-one at all—except Phelps, of ■course. He sat beside the chauffeur.” • “You didn’t go down, I suppose?” “No. But I watched from the window. Ann got in, and it drove away.” It was plain to Mortimer now that this was no practical joke. The hunters had been creeping on him to lake him unawares. llow much did they know? Was the net. already closing around him? Mortimer gritted his teeth. They were daring to bait him. Then let them take the consequences. It was his turn to play the hunter. “I’m sure It’s all just a silly mis ” began Mrs Littlejohn, but something tense and strange in his attitude halted her. It reminded her of a wild beast, crouching ready to spring. And his eyes—she shivered with sudden terror.

the driver out and took his place at the wheel. “Wait here!" he ordered. “ And keep a sharp look out tor Miss Littlejohn. I’m going to Ambroise’s Salon in Bond Street to' see if she is there.” lie had no difficulty in finding the ■place. His difficulties began from the moment he entered. On this day of all days, and when every minute was so valuable, it seemed his fate to encounter every kind of delay that formality and stupid Itv could create. Miss Littlejohn, they asked; did she have an appointment? Oh, a telephone message. If he would kindly be seated while inquiries were made. He made them understand at last. But no-one seemed to have even heard of Miss Littlejohn. Finally Ambrolse himself appeared. He was a rotund gentleman of very polished manners, hut without a trace of a foreign accent. It was a matter of infinite regret, to him. he said, that as yet the Salon • ■could not number Miss Littlejohn among its clients. There must he - some misunderstanding. He' had certainly not telephoned. This was staggering information, but oommon-sense told Mortimer it was , true. He had been tricked. The exaggerated accent, the hurried ringing off, both pointed to that. But who would play such a stupid practical joke on a man’s wedding day? Mortimer’s face hardened. Black fury darkened his eyes. Ann would be wondering what had happened. She would telephone his flat and get no answer. It would only waste precious minutes to ring through now. The thing to do was to 'get to South Kensington as quickly as possible. Never had the short run produoed so many fretting delays. But he got there at last. The outer door was ajar. He ran up the stairs and straight into the Littlejohn flat, almost colliding with a pile of luggage just Inside the door. Instead of exolamatlon and questions greeting him as he had expected, the place was strangely quiet. Mrs Littlejohn was alone. She was dressed ready for going out. The door to Johnny’s room was open. His voice sang out. “Is that the ambulance, Mums?

ucii ituiur. Without another word Mortimer snatched up his hat and went swiftly out. CHAPTER XIII. The big saloon car had an air of comfort and luxury. Subconsciously Ann appreciated it as she got, in, and Phelps closed the door behind her. But her thoughts were too actively concerned with the Immediate future to take more than superficial notice. The hurry and bustle of the past week had left little time for serious reflection. Her interest in the coming event had been curiously impersonal. It might have been anyone's wedding but her own. Even now, on' the way to the Register Office, it still seemed a little unreal, like a dream, one of those sad, incomprehensible dreams. There came to her suddenly the memory of Mortimer’s touch burning into her shoulders, and her flesh quivered again siokeningly. She fought down the feeling. It was too late now to turn back. Then, for the first time, she became aware of her surroundings. This was not KnigbLsbridge, but Chelsea. In a ' moment they would be crossing Battersea Bridge. A possible explanation ' occurred to her. They might have to pick Arnold up somewhere. But it was odd that Phelps had not mentioned it, and presumably Arnold had taken his own car. She leaned forward and spoke to Phelps. He gave no sign that he had heard her. She touched his shoulder. “Where are you going she demanded. ' “Are we picking up Mr Mortimer?" 1 He turned half round at that, gave, her a friendly deferential smile, and slowly shook his head. Ann could make nothing of It. Seeing her look of blank astonishment, he offered an explanation which could only Increase it a hundredfold. j “I sincerely trust you will not see | Mr Mortimer again for some consider--1 able time," he said, as one offering pleasing news. “You don’t understand, of course. I’m afraid my message was a trick. Mr Mortimer is at this moment waiting for you in Oxford Circus. So you are not going to be I married to-day, you see." J The incredible audacity of it almost

Mrs Littlejohn stared at Mortimer, j apparently too bewildered to speak, i "Where is Ann?” panted Morti- j mer. i “ Ann?” "Mrs Littlejohn looked more ! bewildered than ever. "'But T thought helplessly up at him. “ Isn’t she with yon? You sent a ear round for her — quite half an hour asm.” It was his turn to be astonished. “ I sent, a car? I did nothin? of the sort.” Sudden suspicion blazed in ids eyes, llis eyes took on a menacing edge. “If Miis is a trick, whoever is responsible will pav dearly for it. Where is she?” Mrs Littlejohn did not answer. She was regarding him with dawning horror, as ihouffh she had encountered <he devil In person. He got a grip on himself. Evidently she knew nothing about it. It was no use •frightening tier. “ Tm a bit strung up.” lie said, passing liis hand across his brow. “I’m worried about Ann. You must forgive me. I had a spurious message to meet her at Oxford Circus. And now you 101 l me 1 sent a car for her. She lias gone, and neither of us knows where. We must get to the bottom of this, and af once.” lie went, to I lie ’phone, gave his own number, and ns he had expected, failed to tret, through. He then ran? mi "m b«d?ekeeper and questioned him briefly. N-'wi. he got through to the Register Oft're. When he turned to Mrs Littlejohn a train his scowl had deepened, hut lie ! spoke miiellv. ns one humouring a j backward child. “ wherever she went," he said, "It

j took Ann’s breath away. “How dare | you talk such utter nonsense," she j cried. “Tell the driver to turn hack • at once.” ! “That is impossible," said Phelps, and the note of apology in his voice •sounded genuine enough. “Now please make your mind to it, Miss Littlejohn. There is nothing you can do. The I windows you will find are well secur- • ed, and we have removed lhe inside handles of the doors. You will be lhe last io invite a scene and vulgar publicity, I know, and you are certainly in no danger at all. Wo arc friends, not enemies.” ■ Once swift glance assured Ann that she was indeed a prisoner. Short ol' smashing a window, which she was quick lo see might iiavo distasteful results, there really was nothing she I could do hut submit, and await even's as philosophically as might be. Phelps had turned his back upon her and resolutely refused lo say another word. (To be continued.)*