SERIAL STORY JOHN GELDART

Waikato Times, Volume 118, Issue 19758, 13 December 1935, Page 4

SERIAL STORY JOHN GELDART

■CHAPTER XIX

The Connecting Link

When Brian arrived at the house in Amadeus Avenue, he found Carswell and Bill Cleveland with AlcKnight in the little study. There was a constable on guard at the front door of the house, hut a hail from the detective soon gained Brian admittance. lie found them standing in a triangle round the desk and smiled as he entered.

“Well, has the young lady heard anything about her brother?” were the detective’s first words. Brian shook his head.

“ Not a thing,” he replied. “ She seems to think he is quite safe, though.” “Oh, she does —does she? And I wonder just why she thinks that? Is it just feminine intuition .... or is it “ Oh, come, Air McKnlght," protested Brian with a laugh, “you surely ■can’t suspect Miss Marmion of conniving at her brother’s escape” ■ “ Well, I admit I wouldn’t go quite as far as to say that,” said, the detective candidly. “ But she did . some very funny things before he escaped, that girl did. But you look pretty ■cheerful, young man. Have you had any good news?” j “ That all depends, sir,” replied Brian smiling, and McKnlght- winked slowly at Bill Cleveland, who guffawed indelicately. “ Well, - anyway, whatever -it was, it’s more news than we’ve had,” AleKnight continued. “We've had an•other look round, 'but there’s absolutely nothing here that we didn’t find on Tuesday morning.” Brian looked round at the little room, with an attempt to recapture the sense of horror he had felt on the occasion when he had first entered it.

But it was of no avail: the room seemed as though it had no place for horrors. The sun streamed in through the French window, a. beam of its radiance falling on the desk where the head of Francis Marmion had lain in his blood.

“ We’ve had ft wasted journey here, that’s all,” was the detective’s comment, as they made their way lo the front door. “What about the coat?” asked Brian.

“ Just as the inspector said,” returned McKnlght. “It might have been bought at any one of hundreds of branches of these multiple tailors up and down the country. We’re fated in this case, I 'think, to run up against a succession of blank walls.” He sighed deeply, driving his hands down into the pockets of his overcoat. In the road they parted from Inspector Carswell. McKnlght shook him by the hand, thanked him for the help he had given, promising that the matter would not be forgotten. The three of them then turned their steps towards town.

“Where do we go from here?” inquired Bill. “ I suppose you two have appointed yourselves my twin shadows?” said McKnlght casually. “ Well, uncle, remember what you told us.” said Bill, with a grin. “ You said we were not to do any sleuthing without your knowledge and I ask you, how better can we do that than by sticking to you closely ’’ “ Well, if you must hang on my tail," said McKnlght, giving way with easy good-nature, “ I’m going down to Camberwell."

Bill stopped and looked puzzled. “ How do you mean—Camberwell?” he said.

“ You’ve heard of it, I suppose,”— again the heavy irony. “Good Lord, whatever for?” asked Bill, shocked to the core of his being. “Why spoil this nice day by going to —where did you say—Camberwell?”

“ There’s a man living down In Camberwell whom I hope will be of some use to me,” went on the detective, totally ignoring the Irreverent interruption. “He was once an inspector of a division —now retired—and he was the man who arrested the John Geldart I was telling you about, 22 years ago, in that Spooner-Geldart ■business.”

“ Well, now, my dear uncle," said Bill. “ This is a fair give-away. An hour ago you pooh-poohed my humble ■suggestion that there might bo something in tho John Geldart clue, and now here you are .... Weill I give it up.” lie snorted his derision. McKnlght slapped him on the shoulder.

“ Never mind, my boy,” he said heartily. “ You suggestion was a happy one and I am acting upon it and my own ideas —that’s all. There’s no need for you to get all puffed up about it. I found in the records all about this old case and I think it’s worth a trip down to Camberwell lo see if any of the human touches of the case were missed by the rccordcrs of that time.”

He seemed to want to pass it off lightly, but Brian felt that there was more than an aimless investigation in ■this expedition. It looked as though tho detective had picked out that particular John Geldart for his especial attention through no mere idle chance.

Camberwell is a spacious ‘neighbourhood, but it ditl not take them long to find ihe whereabouts of the man they sought. MeKnight had Ihe address in his pocket-book and presently he was knocking at the door of a decent little house, set in a row of 20 or .10 others of identically tho ■same type.

The door was opened by an elderly woman with tidy grey hair and small gold-rinuned spectacles. “ Does Inspector Carter live here, madam?” asked AlcKnight, raising his hat. with a pleasant smile.

“ Ales,” was the immediate response. "Who is it wants him?” " A'ou might just lelt him that Mr MeKnight of Ihe A'ard has called lo see him, will you?” said Ihe, deleelive.

" .Mr Air-Knight!” Ihe woman repealed after him. “ Why, sir. won't you come in! .lark will lie that delighted he won't know what lo do with himself. If he mentions your name once, he says it 20 limes a day."

" Who's there, mother?" -came a man's voice from down Ihe lobbv.

" A'ou'll never guess, .lack." 11 1 <: woman cried excitedly. " ll's Mr .Mels uigli I .”

" Mr Mr. . . . why, Martha, you're, crazy. Whatever would .Mr AirKnight wont U> conn; down and -co me i’ur ("

By /. L. MORRISSEY. (Author of “ High Doom,” Etc., Etc.)

“ It’s only too true, Air Carter,” McKnight called down the passage and, followed by Brian and Bill, he stopped inlo a little living-room, where sat a white-haired old man, in his shirtsleeves and with a pipe arrested halfway on its Journey to his mouth. “ Air McKnlght," he stammered. “ Why, Air McKnlght, this is an honour, for sure. Won't you sit down, sir?” And to Brian and Bill, “Be seated, gentlemen.” “ Well, Mr Carter, how has the world used you since your retirement?” said McKnlght, opening the ■conversation.

“ Not so badly at all, Air AloKnight,” replied the old inspector. “ But there’s times when I’m longing to be back in the game again. Y'ou know, with all these crime waves about, I’m thinking I’m wasted and useless, idling here in retirement.”

“ Oh, come, Jack, you had your day," laughed AloKnight. “ Y'ou see, I 'took tho trouble to find out what was your favourite smoke before I came to see you.” He pulled' out of his pocket a half-pound packet of tobacco. At the sight of the name on the label, Carter’s eyes lit up. "Well, It does me good, Air AleKnight,” ho said, “to think that there’s ■still some who remember my little dikes and .dislikes,. Won’t you Jflll up yourself, sir?” Brian and Bill sat silent during this interchange. ■of compliments, until presently, when both pipes were drawing well, Carter spoke again. "It’s a great honour you do me, ■sir, to call on me. like this," he said earnestly. “I follow all your cases in the papers, what little you 'let get into ’em, that Is, and I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, there’s not a better man at the Yard than yourself, sir. Take this Alarm-lon business now. .. i . ”

“That’s exactly what I came to see you about,’’ cut in AloKnight. “Although I’m glad to see you for your own sake, yet I must confess that this visit is strictly business.”

■Carter chuckled. “You’re kidding me, sir,” lie said, “for what could you want to sec me about, in tliis case? What would I be knowing about it, beyond the little bits that’s in the papers and which everyone knows?’’ Brian felt Bill Cleveland shift his 'feet at this.

“I think there is something in which you can help me, Carter,” returned AlcIKnight. “Do you remember a case you were in; I think they called it the Spooner-Geldart case at the Yard?” “Do I remember it? Well, now, wasn’t that the time I was nearly resigning from the Force?” “What was that for?” >

“Well, d’you see, it was like this. There was this little Spooner fellow, as crafty a little rogue as you’d wish to steer clear of and there was this fine, tall young fellow, Geldart. They failed, as you may remember, and whom should I have to arrest but tliis John Geldart. I thought to myself, there’s something fishy in this and I Investigated a bit on my own, but devil a bit of evidence could I find that’d implicate Spooner. You see, I was aching to pinch him and there was all the papers and things, signed with Geldart's name and I had to lake the boy up. I tell you, I was nearly for letting him go free and sending in my resignation, but the lad wouldn’t let me do it. He insisted on me taking him. He got five years, poor lad, and as fine a fellow never went into gaol and I’ll still say it, if he’s alive to-day." “Is he alive to-day, Carter?" asked AloKnight suddenly. “Eli! How should I know, Mr AloKnight,” Carter was vague. “I did hear he got some of his term remitted for good conduct, but what happened to him, I couldn't say to this day. Nor, now that I come to think of it, do I know what happened io the other chap, Spooner, although I did hear one of the chaps say that they were keeping tabs on him.” McKnlght ■ pulled a letter from-Ills pocket and tossed it over the table to the old man.

“I -suppose you wouldn’t be able to recognise the handwriting of either of them, after all these years?” be observed.

Carter picked up the letter and fumbling for his glasses, set them on Ills nose. He -squinted down at the paper and, from where he sat, Brian saw' it was the letter the coroner had ■received at the Inquest; the statement bearing the signature of “John Geldart.”

The detective watched the old man keenly as he read the letter. His face was as Inscrutable and amiable as ever, but It was easy to see that he was hoping for something from the other. But after a few moments Carter shook his head .regretfully and handed back the letter.

“It’s no use, Air McKnlght,” he said. “Jf this letter .was written by the same John Gdldart I arrcsTed, the handwriting gives no -sign of it. I had a good memory for things llko that and I’m sure I’d recognise some signs of similarity, if there were any." “Of course, a man's handwriting might change considerably In that number of years," insinuated AlcKnight, but Carter looked dubious.

“I’d be inclined to doubt that It would change that much, sir. . You ■sec, although I refer to those chaps as ‘lads,’ they were both full-grown and their handwriting would have set.”

“But a man’s appearance wouldn’t change that much, would it?” AlcKniglil pursued, leaning forward. “I mean to say—do you think you could recognise Spooner or Geldart, if you saw either of them now?"

“IX"w, 'that's a. 'whole lot easier question to answer, Mr MeKnight,” said Garter' brightening visibly. “I'm prepared In swear that. I could recognise either of those boys now, if I was lo meet them. No mailer how they disguised themselves, 'lltcy couldn't hide the essential man beneath the disguise. A'ou see. sir, I made a bit. of a study of that sort, of lliiiig, in (iie "Id days. Nowadays. Ihey’vo got seme newfangled words for it and cail il Ihe •psychology of Ihe indivi'll'■ll• ’ A man can never change Ihe little Irieks of how he walks and moves Ids hands and particularly Urn expression ]ii s face falls into, if he’ s posing as someone else and Is laken suddenly off his guard.”

"but lei us suppose his face is graven inlo one (denial expression?” said MeKnight, gravely. “Suppose he has no Irieks in his walk or in the wavin' moves his hands.’ Supposing he is dead. Galder. would you he able I" help me lln’ii ? \To be continued.)