SERIAL STORY JOHN GELDART

Waikato Times, Volume 118, Issue 19762, 18 December 1935, Page 4

SERIAL STORY JOHN GELDART

CHAPTER XXI (continued.) The morning was bright and cheerful and they travelled on top of an open-top bus to Trafalgar Square. The fountains were playing and the bustle of Charing Cross was good to watch from tho comparative peace of the Square. 'At eleven-fifteen they made their way up Shaftesbury Avenue, and, going round to the back, found themselves at the stage door of the “Delphic” Theatre. Now stage-door dragons are notoriously unenthusiastio in admitting strange young men to the back warrens of their theatres, especially when the young men are inquiring for the young ladies of the ensemble, but Brian soon overcame, by the Judicious use of two half-crowns, the obduracy of,this one.' So m.uch so, that he consented to take in to Miss 'Galloway a note hastily scribbled on one Of Brian’s cards.

The two friends waited in the lobby until his return. Various people dashed violently past them, passionate and vociferous and unseeing, and the pair retreated at last to a safe corner until the door-keeper should return. This he did within five minutes and with him came Miss Galloway, and to Bill Cleveland’s intense interest she was accompanied by another damsel of almost the same degree of pulchritude as herself.

Both girls were clad in the abbreviated and exiguous oostume that forms the average revue producer’s idea of the ideal danoing rehearsal outfit for a girl and Bill’s eyes goggled slightly at the sight of them. 'He was a young ■man of upright tendencies and this was the first time he had been privileged to see and converse with the houris of the chorus, without the interposition of a hedge of footlights. But he bore up bravely and set his hat at a new angle. “Mr Cldrke,” said Janet, turning from one to the other. “I remember seeing you at 1 ... at the inquest,” she went on,.as, Brian by a slight inclination of his bead acknowledged his identity. “You’re a friend of Paula Marmion’s, aren’t you?” “Yes, Miss Galloway,” said Brian. "Miss Marmion has done me the honour of confiding in me to a great extent about her father’s death and the events leading up to It. We came round this morning to see whether, by any chance, you had news of Leonard. This is my friend Bill, Mr Cleveland, Miss Galloway.” Bill shook bands gravely with Janet and was in turn introduced to the other young lady who rejoiced in the name of 'Daphne Swallow. She was a bright, pretty girl and Janet explained that she and Daphne shared a flat together.- ", “I’m glad you -came,” said Janet impulsively. “I have had news—l don’t know whether I should tell you . . .’’ she hesitated, glancing depreoatingly at Bill and Daphne. Bill took the hint gracefully and he and Daphne retired to another corner. Janet turned eagerly to Brian. 0 “I feel sure I can trust you, Mr Clarke,” she began with earnestness. “If you are a friend of Paula’s I know that you won’t . . . “You can tell me anything you would have told Paula,” said Brian. “I know all about Leonard; I saw what went on at the inquest and I know the interest that you and she take in him. You can rest assured that in no way will I violate your confidence.”

“I’ve had a letter from Leonard,” she blurted out and Brian looked startled.

“A letter?” he repeated, and she nodded and withdrew from the pocket of the light Jersey she was wearing a crumpled envelope. “It came this morning, and It doesn't give any sender’s address or where it was posted from, but It says he is safe and .... but you had better read it for yourself." She handed him the letter.

Taking It from the envelope, he unfolded it. Written upon a double sheet of cheap white paper, the letter bore no date or address.

“Dear Janet (it ran) : I am writing you this note to let you know that I am quite safe and securo and that you are not to worry about me in the least. I cannot tell you where I am and It may be a long time 'before I see you again, but please believe in me, Janet, and when I do see you again, all this wretched business will be cleared up, we will know the truth and we can be happy again. I shall feel better for having sent you this note. Pleaac show it to Paula. Ever your devoted, Leonard." ■He handed the letter back and his face was thoughtful. This Confirmed what he and Bill had been thinking and what MoKnight himself had voiced—namely—that someone was concealing Leonard for purposes of their own, and that the police would never find him, for he was in some place where they could never look. Tho tone of the letter seemed to express no doubts that he would remain hidden for some time, until, in fact, either his own will or that of the mysterious man who was at the back of the thing, deemed it advisable for him to reappear. “I'm glad he is safe," he said sincerely. “It means so much to me to know that," she said with a bright smile. “I feel that I can believe in his innocence now, more than ever. There was a time when I doubted, but now . .Tell me. Mr Clarke, do you think Leonard killed his father?” “Frankly, Miss Galloway, I do not," ho said promptly. “And, without betraying any confidences, I can tell you that, since his disappearance, certain things have cropped up which leave, well—seriously broadened the outlook of the police in the matter of Leonard’s supposed guilt. In their eyes, it is not now so very obvious and selfevident as they thought it before,” “Olil T do hope they find something out soon," she said with a sigh. “I want to seo Leonard and tell him that I didn’t mean al! the hard things I said lo him that Monday night. Oh! Mr. Clarke, you’ll never understand what I fell like on llie Tuesday morning when fell, like on I ho Tuesday morning when I hoard and when l thought of poor Leonard wandering round all night, Ili-inking 1 had really thrown him over. Oil! why do we give way lo these fils of pique?” Brian could not readily understand her words, bill he gathered dial she was reproaching herself with a quarrel she had had will) Leonard on the night before the murder. If that was so. it would account for much of Leonard's seeming wildness and dislraclion, hitherto atlribulcd lo a guilty conscience. “I am going lo see Paula 10-ilny, Miss Calloway," he said. “Could I lake this letter and show it lo her, to save you the

By J. L. MORRISSEY. (Author of “ High Doom," Etc., Etc.)

“I’d be delighted if you would,” she said, handing it to him. He slipped it into his pocket. "I’d love her to see it,” she added. “Would you trust me sufficiently to let me show it to the detective, Mr McKnight?" he asked hesitatingly. “Is he the big man who was so bitter against Leonard at the inquest?” she demanded. “Yes—but now, Miss 'Galloway, he isn’t half so sure that Leonard is the man he wants. It can do you no harm to let him see the letter. He cannot learn Leonard's whereabouts from it and the expression of his innocence which it- conveys to you, in private, may influence Mr McKnight’s mind favourably.” She thought, for a moment without speaking, and it was evident that his suggestion was repugnant to her and he could sympathise with the hard feelings she entertained towards McKnight. As for himself, this was not the first time that he had thought he was getting a pretty thin time, being forced to run with the hare and hunt with the hounds, as it were. Suddenly the girl made up her mind. “If Paula wants to let him see it, you may show it to him,” she said at length. “I'll be guided by her. If she thinks it wise, let him see it." ■ He thanked, her warmly and turning, called to Bill. He and Daphne had been getting along like two old friends in their corner, if the sound of their voices and their laughter was any criterion. Now they came over and joined Janet and Brian“lnterview concluded?” asked Bill, and Brian nodded. “What are your plans fori the rest of the morning?" went on Bill. “Weren’t we going to Scotland Yard?” said Brian. “Yes, that’s so, ‘but, look here, don't you want to run round and see Miss Marmion before that. You see, it's like this. These young ladies get a couple of hours’ recess very shortly for lunch, and I thought it would be a good idea If we took them out for a bite, before toddling round to see the merry old detective.” Brian reddened. “You know I should be delighted, Miss Galloway,” he said, Inwardly cursing Bill for the suggestion, “but I think you understand why I can’t fall in with the arrangement?” “Of course,” she said quickly. “I don’t think I -could go either. But to prevent you and Mr Cleveland going to lunch without us, Daph?" "A sound scheme, Miss Galloway,” said Bill heartily. “What do you say, Miss—er—Swallow?" “Suits me,” replied the girl with a smile, and so it was arranged. Brian left the theatre immediately and Bill stayed with the door-keeper until the girls should be released from rehearsal, trying to blandish that dour cynic and misogynist from his soured attitude towards -life, towards men, and in particular towards women, with whom, he averred bitterly he “didn't ’old.” Brian made at once for New Scotland Yard and was informed on his arrival that McKnight was not in his room or in the building, but that he might be hack at any moment. He was permitted to wait in a small, bare waiting-room and while he sat there upon the -cold, official leather of his chair, the letter from Leonard threatened to burn a hole in his pocket. lie had come here, to see ihe detective, but not to show him the letter, until Paula allowed him to do so. He intended to he true to his promise ,to Janet in that. His resolve to see McKnight was horn of a keen desire to hear what had befallen the detective, in his search Into the past life of the murdered man, 'Francis Marmion, and his attempts to dovetail It Into tho after life of. Wilfred Spooner, the suspected swindler, and he had wanted to have some news of an encouraging nature to take to Paula. But as tho minutes passed, he began to doubt his wisdom in coming here. Either he would not be able to conceal the fact or else McKnight’s keen eyes would detect 'something out of the ordinary in his manner, but Brian was sure that if he were to talk to the delcctlvo while the letter was in his pocket, somehow or other, McKnight would soon know all about it-

'He waited till long after twelve and upon being told that MoKnight had not yet returned and had sent no message, he decided to wait no longer. Ha would see the detective later, after tho reading of the will: perhaps he might even be there himself. He was as übiquitous as Sir David Abbott himself had been last week. Brian ate a solitary lunch at the Travellers’ Club and at one-fifteen set off for Malda Vale. Paula's face lit up when he showed her the letter and she looked up at him with a shining face. “Isn’t it wonderful to hear from the poor boy?” she exclaimed. "This must have done Janet a lot of good." “She did look a great deal brighter than when I saw her last Thursday," admitted Brian. "I know it must mean a lot to both of you lo know he is safe." “Well, at least, I can stop worrying about him now,’ she smiled. “Someone else is doing the worrying for me. I wonder who it can be, but that is no concern of mine. It is iho task of ihe Law to find out, isn’t it?" “It is," replied Brian. “And how they are going to find him, I can’t for the iife of me tell. This letter has no address, the postmark might he that of any post-office in the London area, and the paper .... well, the staioners’ shops are full of boxes of paper packets of the same stuff. Paula, would you object if I showed this letter to McKnlght?" “Why. do you want him to find Leonard?” she asked coolly, searching his face- He showed his embarrassment. “Nol Nol Of course not,” be declared emphatically, wondering how ho could explain Ills feelings lo her about this loiter —namely—that it would restore McKnight’s confidence in I hem (already badly shaken) if they were lo bring it lo him voluntarily. And, after all, it could nol tell the 'detective a single thing as to wlicro Leonard was. “But, aftor all, Paula, ho is in charge of Ibis case: ho is a very honest and genuine man and It seems Ihe only straightforward thing lo do lo show it to him. You see. any facts which come lo light, bearing in any way on Ihe case, should Ik> given to him Immediately. You understand that, don't you, Paula?” •‘You’re right. Brian,” slit; said, with a laugh. “And you are a dear, honest, unimaginalivc hoy for thinking like Ilia), j-f you could only see how deceitful and unscrupulous 1 am inside, abotil the whole thing, you would (Continued in next column.J

shudder at the duplicity of women.” “At least I’m not so unimaginative that I cannot sympathise with your feelings for your brother, dear,” lie said with a smile. “But I feel that the only way-to get at the truth and the whole truth, is for us to assist McKnight in every way in our power. He’s about the smartest man (here is at the game and I have heard that lie is the most humane and understanding detective Scotland Yard lias ever known.” “If he hadn’t been arresting my brother , t’d have thought lie was a dear,” agreed Paula impulsively. “And at the inquest, if I had been able to see tilings from a detached point of view, I should have seen that ills report was wonderful. Yes! Show him the letter Brian. It can’t do any harm. And now wo must bo off: it is almost two o’clock.” They were fifteen minutes late in arriving at tho solicitor’s olllee in Serjeant’s Inn, and when they were shown into the office of the firm of Borrow, Hapgood and Borrow they found that two other persons had arrived before them. Brian remembered what lie had thought about the übigutty of the detective as compared with (he propensity of Sir David lo show up in anything that concerned Paula. For Hie two olliers in the lawyer’s office were McKnight and Sir David Abbot!. They were chatting together like old friends, sealed side by side in a deep leather setee in Hie waiting-room and when Paula and Brian were shown in, llicy rose together and shook hands all round. “Sir David has just been telling me of his recent, holiday on the Riviera,” observed McKnight witli an affable smile. “What was that anecdote you told me about your berth in 1 lie Blue Train going down, Sir David?” (To he continued.)