THE LADY OF INISHTARA

Waikato Times, Volume 119, Issue 19816, 21 February 1936, Page 4

THE LADY OF INISHTARA

HERBERT GALWAY Author of “ Out of the West," “ The Squire of Redesby," etc. A THRILLING MYSTERY STORY

SYNOPSIS. Cona! Shrule, a lonely old I '.Lf, h o U r‘ SaT WASS**** ! '%an,el 6a S y ey. heir *o Inlsmar. Cast'e. Michael Carey, Daniel a yuuua “Sc. Carey, rather or Daniel ana f^r l ro y r.u U r^ n Sy D matr,ln ? no„ M “lL 3T?fei (M^Uourhood. Mari, is in LonBnan Curran, who is iU Dinny Heady, a notorious poacher in the dl3 joe Ct ’Grimn, landlord or the Napper 1 J There n 'l's constant enmity brothers Michael and Daniel, and I t iineaiens to divulge his hrothers sec^ ei ir the suggested marriage with Mary 1 During- a game or cards at the inn ael accuses his brother of cheating, inere is a fight. Michael strikes Danlei wno rails, and is rendered unconscious. Trim* mg he has committed murder. rides away on his motor-cycle into tne stormy night, and is not seen as* lll - Marv Robert Shannon puts press re on j j j to agree to his plans. In her dimculty Mary goes to seek advice rrom bhrule. It nearly dark when she reaches and she is horrified to see a young woman jymg Py’her likeness 1 to his l v fe a ( Sg lert him twenty years ago) and by a ring she is wearing. Shrule recognises_ the dead woman as his daughter. A home poisoned whiskey is found n ® ar - The dead woman is taken to the Rapper Tandy Inn. Shrule decides to say to the police about her relationship to him. Brian Curran arrives at Inlshtara for h s holidays. CHAPTER VXII*. Paddy Kells Finds the London Address Oxford Square, Islington, the address found in the dead womans pocket is a place with a .past. In earliei limes the massive-fronted houses were ihu homes of prosperous citizens, who lived leisurely and usually walked t - short distance to the City. Now, however there is a family on every' Hour ;md 'the plaster •is peeling from tne pillars tlmt (lank each gloomy porch. The houses are ajl alike and border three sides of the square, the centre it which was once a beautiful oasis In ,1 desert of bricks. Swarms of children play there now and Hie grass has gone never to return. I Paddv Kells formed a correct estlm- i ,it e of the financial position of Molly Macroom, as he walked about the dingy square a week or so after his return to London. He could not imagine anj one living there from choice. That Is (he ; ,rgued tolerantly) if she did live there. The address, of course, might only he • hat of an acquaintance. Number 3L wus not easy to tlnd. Most of the doors were open to allow the free passage Hi' the various tenants to their different Hours, and it was necessary to inspect Ihe numbers on the front doors ot one nr two before calculating the position of the address lie was seeking. As it happened the painted figures were barely visible on the door of *»2, ;, 11 d he asked a slatternly woman from I lie basemenl if Mrs. Nolan lived there. ‘•I couldn’t say. I'm sure." was the reply. ‘Knock twice an’ ask the lauy on the next lloor. idle might know. Paddy carried out his instructions several times before there was any response. Then he saw a young child peep through the hamsters, only to dart out of sight again as he smiled up 1 About half a minute later a young woman appeared with the child at her side. . "Yes?" she cried, coming no lower than the head of the stairs. "What is II " I’m looking lor Mrs Nolan," began Paddy, lifting ids hat. "1, understand she lives at 3*2." -•Who’s that that’s wanted?” catted a voice from the higher floor. The words were accompanied by a laborious stumping down the uncarpetcd stairs. "Mrs Nolan," he repeated. " There’s no Mrs Nolan here. There’s never been any Mrs Nolan here. W hat's Stic like? ’’ " I’m sorry 1 can’t describe her, smiled Paddy. " I’ve never seen tier." “ Is she a young woman? ’’ " l don’t even know that. But you Sov stie has never lived here?" '" Not to my knowledge, and I've been here nearly three years." Concluding that it would he a waste of time to stay there any longer, lie thanked the woman and went out Into the dusty square again. On the corner of the street that ran into the main thoroughfare there was a small newsagent’s shop, and Paddy thought lie would try that before exploring in other directions. Here also success seemed as far off as ever. The man said he was sorry he could.not help, as although people from the square came in and bought papers regularly, lie knew very few names, although lie knew them well enough by sight. "We deliver Sunday papers,” he continued, " but even then we go more by numbers than names—Number lfl might want one paper, and Number 20 might want another, and so on, and we hardly ever know their real names." •• Yes, I see." replied Paddy thoughtfully. ’ What about Number 32—do you deliver there? " The newsagent consulted his book. " Yes; they have a picture paper and another. 1 don’t know the name of ttie customer —It’s ttie lady on the second floor —but I know it’s not Nolan.” " But what about, ’say, four or five years ago? Was that the same customer? ’’ •• I don’t know. But half a minute. I've got the book Inside somewhere. I’ll ask the missus.’’ Paddy stood gazing into the shabby street while waiting and wondered what line lie should take in the event of fresh failure. The directory would be of little use in tracing the woman, as the majority of people in her apparent circumstances lived in rooms and were birds of passage with no habitation suillciently settled to warrant inclusion in an ordinary register of addresses. "Was the lady from Ireland?” The voice broke in upon Paddy’s meditation and he turned round with a hopeful smile. “ I* think so," he replied, " but—” " Well, although l don’t know that her name was Nolan," went on tin newsagent, " there was a party lived at Number 32 who used to have a Dublin paper delivered every week, That’s as much as l can tell you." The Investigator dut- hed at, lln slender clue and he could hardly sup- " You don’t know the name at all? ’ The newsagent had turned away l< serve a customer, and his wife—win had come into the shop from the innci room—brought the "Id account boot to the counter. Are you inquiring for business purposes, young man'.’” she asked it a rather son ere lou*». " Yes, very important business." he replied. " 1 am trying to find eitliei Mrs Nolan or a girl called Molly Mac-

room or Shrule/ The girl has died in Ireland, and I want to know —” "Died? Is she dead? Why. yes. I remember the girl. I didn't know the name of ttie woman she was staying with, but I remember her name now i you mention it. She appeared to be an actress or something of the sort by the look of her, and she had the paper delivered in her name to save it going astray on the different floors.” "Was she there long—at 32?" “ Ah, that I couldn’t say. She had the paper regularly for a few months, but whether she was there before then I* don’t know.” “ Did she tell you her real name was Shrule? ’ “ Oh no, but after she’d gone the lady from 32 came in to pay the bill one day—it was only a matter of a shilling or so—and said that her lodger had gone back to Ireland as she couldn’t get anything to do over here. What little money she had was spent, and she said she was going back to her friends." "She didn’t say who they were?” “ No, but I understood from 32 that the girl’s proper name was Shrule — Molly Shrule —and that she was an orphan and had called herself Macroom for professional purposes." “ And you don’t know what became of her after that? ’’ " Well, I did, if it’s true, and quite accidentally in a way. I was in Caledonian Market one Friday morning looking round for a few' things I wanted when someone touched me on the shoulder. I turned round to ilnd it was my old customer who used to live at Number 32 in the square. I- asked her how she was getting on, and then mentioned the girl who used to have the Dublin paper. “‘Oh, my dear!’ she said; ‘she’s done very well for herself. She’s married a rich man with a castle and ali that.’ ’’ Daddy Kells hoped his voice was steady as lie asked for the name of tlie man. “Carey—Mr Daniel Carey. At least 1 think it was Mister. It was perhaps | Sir Daniel, but I’m not sure." i “It wasn’t Michael, by any chance?” i “ Oh, no, I’m sure it was Daniel, because I remember laughing and i saying 1 Dare to be a Daniel.’ His I people were against it, you see, as ; he was only a student, and they had ! other plans for him." “ Naturally. Secret marriage, I exi pect? " I " 1 suppose so. Well, at a register ; 1 believe, if you can call that secret. She seemed very presentable ; ;is hir looks were concerned, but, i course, they don’t seem to count ; lnl ' much with the quality, if some of j Hie pictures I’ve seen are anything to | j Paddy laughed at the cynicism of the 1 newsagent’s \vife, and bought several 1 packets of cigarettes out of pure gratii tude. ; M hen he met Brian Curran by ap- ] pointment the same evening, he was i enthusiastic about the success of his investigations. To Brian there was only one reason why Daniel Carey should have lied about the identity of thei dead woman found at I-nishtara. By describing her as the wife of Michael lie hoped to increase his own prestige in Hie eyes of Mary Shannon and appear before her in a more favourable light. Michael, moreover, who had threatened to divulge the secret if his brother presumed to become formally engaged to Mary, was now out of the way and “."I.m a Position to refute the perjured statement. And yet," went on Brian, conmuing Jus thoughts aloud, "his p'lher and Shannon were doing all they could to bring about a marriage jctween Mary and him, knowing all Ihe lime- that Daniel had already a wile somewhere.” ‘‘Well, we don’t know that Mary's uncle knew of it," said Paddy, anxious 0 t . au ’ Robert Shannon. “No, perhaps not," agreed Brian, hut Terence Carey must have known how else can you explain the family opposition ?" “I’m going over to Dublin during the \\cek. said Kells. "I’ve been given a free hand in the matter, as the Chief says it is all part of my training. And a Her I’ve inspected the marriage register I want to run over to Jnishtara and clear up another thing in connection with the same affair. The mil\ snag is that it may mean showing my hand, but it can’t be helped if il should be necessary.” ‘1 would very much like to go with } ou and tell Mary the news," remarked Brian, "hut unfortunately I can't gel away at present." "Perhaps it. wouldn’t be advisable," interjected Paddy, "It wouldn’t do io let certain people suspect anything.” "Maybe you’re right. I’ll send her a long letter instead." (To he Continued.)