“The Kerrell St. Affair”

Waikato Times, Volume 122, Issue 20465, 4 April 1938, Page 11

“The Kerrell St. Affair”

By LIONEL HAMILTON

An Exciting Mystery Story

CHAPTER Vn. continued) The thought made him smile; the girl caught it, and she curved her lips. Jim Wallace stretched his hands out in front of the blaze, and said: -Now Bennett s not here, we can talk more easily. You are really serious when you say you've nowhere to go. but this place?” She nodded, simply. -Yes. I haven’t three pounds in the world—and l haven't anything left worth selling.” "Hmm!” said Wallace, “but surely you could get work?” She shook her head, a little ruefully. -only like I’ve told you,” she said ••The reference is awkwaul; you see, your father was really a well-known man, and it hasn’t helped. My experience and—appearance —don’t go together. In some offices I would be a disturMng factor, and In others — well, 1 wouldn’t be wanted to work. So ” She was very frank, Wallace told himself grimly. • Well.” he said, “you can t stay here —no, I don't mean I’m going to close the door on you, but now I’ve arrived in England this house Isn’t, going to bo particularly healthy, and 1 don’t propose to take risks with anyone but myself. These Hampstead people. Are they friends?” • No—l only knew them after I took lodgings.” “But you’ve friends somewhere?” -Not—here.” She coloured a little, and turned her head towards the fire to hide her confusion. “It doesn't seem fair to unload my history on you, Mr Wallace, but ” “Don’t worry about it." Jim said, smiling. “Talk as much as you like, and you ran be sure I shall respect your confidence.“ Evelyn Clements nodded, gratefully. “I believe I can,” she said. “Well —l’ve no relatives with money, at all. My father died two years ago, and it was because your father and mine were friends ” Before she continued, Wallace interrupted. “The deuce they were! For how long?” “About ten years.” said Evelyn Clements. “I know nothing about llicir relationship, but f do know John Wallace was very good lo Dad, in a lot of ways. And after his death, lie

1 employed me. Now, there's no-one j —and it isn’t pleasant." | It certainly wasn't pleasant, Jim [ Wallace thought, frowning. Two I tilings struck him, as she spoke. One, I that his lather's behaviour to Evelyn j Elements and her family was strangely contradictory when compared with : other tilings: two, that the girl must be fe< ing n the border line of desperation to conllde in him like this. i lie leaned forward a little, and I- sQiiled. “Look here,' 1 he said, "this is my pigeon, in a lot of ways. Isn't there i a place —a boarding house or hotel or 1 something—where you can stay for a ! while, and look round for work’.* I can see whether 1 can find something for you, too. 1 know it sounds weak, but I can't feel I'm driving you away from here, with nowhere to go." It \va6 five minutes before the thing was agreed, and Jim Wallace found ' himself, oddly, as honorary ward to | one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, and who contrived, ! when she looked at him. to stir his ' blood strangely. He didn’t wait to ask himself whether he was being a fool; he acted entirely as his heart, dictated, and lie did not think he would suffer for it. Bennett returned, shortly afterwards, and said nothing when he heard what had transpired. An hour later, with Evelyn Clements between them, and Wallace carrying the suitcase containing all the belongings the girl would need for the next few days, j they left 17, Kerrell Street. The men j left* her at the door of a small hotel, I for which Bennett vouched; and Jim j Wallace received all the thanks he j wanted from the glow in her lovely i eves and the firm pressure of her I right hand. Bennett grinned crookedly as the I girl disappeared. "Now you've finished being the Good Samaritan," he said, a little ' acidly, "perhaps you won't mind anj other look at the house in Kerrell ! Street. Ur have you finished for to- . night?” Wallace looked at him, and sighed. "I wish I had," he said, "but I'll I come with you. Do you want any j more telling you've hit a first-class story?” | “Mr a first-class hoax," grunted i Mike Bennett. “1 haven't made up Imy mind, yd. But let's get along." CIIABTEIR \'l 11. It was half-past eleven when they readied 17, Kerrell Street for the 'second time that night, and it was half- ! past twelve when they came away, i with tiie result of their exploration • exactly nil. There hud been twelve ! rooms in the house, all—with tfie exI ception of that which had been j Evelyn Clements’ temporary home, large and roomy. Some of the rooms had obviously been fitted up for gambling, although most of the fixtures had been removed. N'o sounds, nothing at all mysterious, had resulted from their search, and two tired and weary men separated outside the I Scion, and prepared for the night. Jim Wallace found, to his satisfac- | tion. that Galli had been busy. Two j different rooms had been set aside for ! Wallace, both of them with an emergency exit into the passages, not the | outside walls; only a monkey or its j equivalent could have reached his i bedroom. Wallace fell, more easy, ' amt he fell asleep within Ipii minutes of his head touching the pillow, despile the confusion of his thoughts. , lie ;i\\; iki•ll •' d a I half-past seven next in<•rniii!.'. |o r.nd a Irim main standing mar Ids led. hearing a fea-lray and two newspapers. lie looked through 11 1 .! latler. hurriedly, as lie sipped his tea. Then he leant d hack, lit a ris;i*dli', ami tried to think out the .-■it nation into which lie had found liim- , .-•'ii plunged. first. il was definite that someone ' wanted h> prevent him from taking over the Kensington house. The man • dcanitSmhni" sinl 5 ax c:cT named .-millt," the gunman, and K\(dyn idcnr'iits, all confirmed that. .Second, his fa I her had been mixed up in a business that could be called—and that with moderation—queer. Third, that Evelyn Clements did not I seem any less attractive as he thought ■ of tier, now, and lie marvelled at her | courage in sleeping alone at the house in Kerrell Street. Fourth, that the house needed investigating thorough- . ly, and that it was possible they might ; gel more information from the girl, or j from Hi” man, Blind Sliarman, to-day. ! Thes* tilings were turned over and j over in Wallace’s mind as he shaved i and bathed, and ate a hearty breakfast. I Despite his exertions Ihe night before, i he fell, lit and prepared for anything; lie even Imped there would he deve- ■ lopmenls. quickly; this thing was getting li m. and lie was looking for- ! ward lo the next move. It came at nine o'clock, and it was : any thing but d'amalic. The door of bis ru'mi was pushed open, and Mike : BennPtt, drp>.-* d in a mustard-colour - •ed "Uit of phi." fours that revealed \ every failing m his figure, and contrasted horribly with Id- ginger hair, ‘ strolled in. lie was red-faced, too, ; and smiling. Up aiready be asked, as he J saw Jim finishing his breakfast. : "Veu In. ui t improved your manners overnight.'' Jim said, a little 1 caustically. “Still. I suppose you aie of Hie favouied, ■now. Have some coffee?” j ''Sure." said Bennett, as though : replying to both questions at once. ! “Nothing happened?” ! “It hasn't had much chance," said Jim. pouring coffee into a second cup. j ■•Anythin*-' with you?” | A lilt’, but nothing to shout ■about." said Bennett, scratching his : In ad. T pr.-mis' d you I'd see if I • ■"liid 'ind anything about Blind SharI mail ’’ n 'i led: he had left ' that sing th the newsI d r !■••!•••’ «' :• n Hi" previous night. : J".- all h"Ugh I *■ was prepared to beJ:c\" lln” ini-!it gel information from j I lie blind ~i:d hatf-crazed Hiarman. he 'did lmt think limn* was anvthing t" Dial quarter. i "We!!. said lb lined. taking his i col T.-e t hoiiirht mlly. “iic lives in a lit!io ; b ick a sire* t in Kensington, il” 1 -”ls •• sum of money regularJv. so his ! lano’l.idy fold me. but she doesn't know jw h j front. He went, to her place | about two years ago, and lie was blind, j then, but dude sane. She doesn't : I'” seems harmless. The only thing , slip thinks really funny is the*way he ’ .■ d Wall ice.” Jim's lips tightened. " e spoke last night. I fa!-:e if "i’b'-Hj \'eh. £lie says if he ever

finds the man, she's sure he’ll do murder. But —" Bennett shrugged his shoulders —"there isn't any fear of that.'' "Xo -o,” said Jim. He was silent for a few minutes, and then said quietly, "but how is it Sharman has a key of the place'.'" ".No-one knows," said Bennett. “At least, you and I don’t. But you said last night he used lo be a friend of your father’s—according to Miss Clements—so he might easily have kept a key from I hem. Of course—" Benncll sal in his favourite position, j on Ilm arm of an easy chair, and swung his liil»b.' legs—"there are probably J plenty (( f keys about. The only safe way to make, ship no-one cels in through the front door is lo have a new lock fit|p»i~—and a good one." "I'll have il done," .Inn said, pushing his hand through his hair. "But this morninc I'm going to see the solicitors. They might know something:. although they never hinted al anything like this in their letters.'’ "Careful folks, solicitors," grinned Bennett. "All right—l'll follow you round, if 1 may. and probably i'll spot anyone who's on your tail." The unaffected ease of the reporter's manner did a great deal to restore. Wallace’s composure. He might have felt himself a madman in a crazy world but lor the essential sanity and commonsense of the liecord man who, it seemed, possessed all the virtues saving that of politeness. He had a knack of inserting himself anywhere, as though it was his right; when Wallace learned, later that day. that Mike Bennett was Ihe premier crime reporter of Fleet Street, he was iml surprised; but he was very thankful. for Bennett knew as aiui'h as an uliicial of the rules and regulations of police procedure, and lie had an astuteness that outdid that ■>l many men al Scotland Yard —a fact Waliae • was lo learn laler. He dressed carefully, oral at len o'clock was ready for I lie start on his first oliicial call mi 1 1 matin and Cordin, Solicitors. He grinned a little to himself as he realised that it was a freak, almost, that had mad*' his first few hours in F.ngland so troubled, and that when he had started from the Straits Settlements lie had not dreamed he would meet anyone acquainted wilh his father until he met "ue or other of the Cordins. (To be continued'