“The Kerrell St. Affair”

Waikato Times, Volume 122, Issue 20466, 5 April 1938, Page 3

“The Kerrell St. Affair”

By LIONEL HAMILTON

An Exciting Mystery Story

CHAPTER IX.—Continued. He taxied to Cannon Street, after seeing the tubby, grinning and bareheaded Bennett lounging in the foyer; Bennet did not want their acquaintance to be generally known at this juncture. He realised, with Wallace, that the morose-faced man, who had shadowed him on the previous night, would lie on the trail again—or else someone would be watching in his stead. The journey to Cannon Street was uneventful, and Wallace discovered Gordin and Gordin were housed on the second floor of an ancient building that seeemd to reek of the law. There was. however, an air of haste and turmoil about the outer' offlees, and it was a full minute before he caught the eye of a harassed clerk at a typewriter. Tiie man—an oldish member of the outer edges of the legal profession. hurried towards him. “ Good morning. sir ” “My names' Wallace,” Jim said. •'l've an appointment with Mr Gordin for this morning.” The man nodded, a little absentmindedly. If Jim had expected his name to be greeted with wonder, he was disappointed; it seemed, he told himself with a grin, that he was one of many cilents who were interviewed by Mr Cordin. ‘After a lapse of several minutes, the clerk returned, looking a little apologetic, and pulling up the flap of the counter. “I'm sorry I didn’t recognise your name, Mr Wallace. Will you please come this way? And Mr Cordin asks you to excuse him, but he is engaged for the moment. He won’t keep you long.” Jim nodded, and was satisfied to relax for a few minutes in what seemed to be an ante-room to the solicitor’s private office. The place, was old, musty, dusty and littered with papers, most of which were tied in bundles, and tied with red or white tape. There were three doors leading from the little room. One from the general office, through which Jim had just passed. A second leading to the right, and marked: Samuel Cordin —Private. While a third led to the left, and was unmarked. Through this latter door, a continual stream of men, women and girls passed, usually carrying papers, always looking worried and hurried. It was as different from Jim Wallace's preconceived impression of a solicitor's office as it could have been. He had had experience of such dens before, and they had seemed slow and sleepy; whatever else, that accusation could not be levelled against this place. To add to the din, telephone bells from several directions burred out, and voices, usually feminine and sharp, answered them. Unused to bustle of this kind, Jim found the idea of relaxation impossible, and he grinned when it occurred to him that this speed was typical of events since he had landed in England. After a wait of ten minutes, Samuel Cordin's door opened. Jim looked up, expectantly, heard the mutter of voices, and saw the tall, thin man coming from the office. He would not have looked twice at the man but for the fact that he happened to see his face, square, for a split-second. Then, every muscle in Jim Wallace’s body went rigid. He glanced, covertly, at the other. He saw the grey hair, cut very close so as to be almost a crop, the broad but weedy shoulders, and thin middle. There was absolutely nothing about this man’s figure that was familiar. But Jim was certain that he had seen him before; the small, regular features, the beady eyes, were unmistakable. On the previous evening, the man now leaving Gordin's office, had called at the Scion Hotel, with a padded figure and an absurd wig; he had introduced himself as Mr Smith! CHAPTER X. Jim Wallace had no time to wonder much, to marvel at the fact that this man had been closeted with Samuel Cordin. As the tall, thin man left by one door, Cordin’e door opened ! again, and a middle-aged militarylooking man, immaculately dressed in black coat and striped trousers, wearing pince-nez that were perched very securely on his hooked nose, appeared. “Mr Wallace?” the man smiled; Jim had a vague impression of a pink-and-white skin, and almost white hair. “Yes,” Jim stood up, slowly, and extended a hand. Mr Cordin gripped it firmly. Everything about Samuel ! Cordin was firm anrl decisive, and Jim Wallace, with a habit that had been with him for years, of forming opinions about characters quickly, decided that here was a man who played straight, and could be absolutely trusted. Whether Cordin noticed anything queer about his visitor's manner, Jim didn't know. It was a fact, nevertheless, that he felt completely at a loss. This, coupled with his favourable impression of the solicitor, made him decide not to beat about the bush. Cordin leaned back, smiling, and seemed to be about to congratulate Jim on his inheritance; the younger man spoke first. “I don’t want to seem inquisitive,” he said, grimly, “but —do you know your last client well, Mr Cordin?” "Last client?” The solicitor looked puzzled, and then he smiled broadly, j “Oh, I'm sorry. Yes. I know him well, Mr Wallace. He has been a client, for years—in fact, your father introduced him to us. Why?” Wallace's smile was very grim. "That's more than interesting.” he said. "Well, I don't see any reason why you shouldn’t know, Mr Cordin. The gentleman visited me last night— ’’ “Visited you ” Cordin'almost jump-

ed from his seat; there was no mistaking the genuineness of his surprise. "Yes," Jim Wallace went on grimly. "He was padded and disguised, after a fashion, hut it was the same "Look here,” Gordin was smiling, although he looked disconcerted and not a little worried. "You have almost certainly made a mistake, Mr Wallace. A similarity of feature might easily account forit. Why," Gordin settled back in his chair, as though satisfied he had discovered the truth, "we were only discussing you a few minutes ago, and I’m sure my client would have mentioned any visit to you." "I've my doubts," said Jim. "Listen ” He plunged into the story, cutting out. all unessentials, and for ten minutes Mr Samuel Cordin listened like a man in a dream. When Jim finished, there was silence in the room for a full minute; the solicitor was obviously trying to force himself to lelieve the story, although as he had related it Jim could well appreciate that it sounded incredible. "We-elli” Cordin breathed the word slowly. "This* beats everything I've ever heard, Mr Wallace.. You say this man Bennett —the Record man—was with you for a great deal of the time ?” “Yes," said Jim, smiling. "He can vouch for it." Gordin’s lips turned up a little at the corners. "I’ll admit it needs some kind of verification, Mr Wallace. It isn’t so much that I don’t believe you as that I can’t. And you say Tenby was at the Scion last night?" "If by Tenby you mean ‘Smith,’ I’m certain." ■Cordin brushed the back of his head with his right hand, as though to cool down. "It’s—hang it, you know what it sounds like, as well as I do. But why on earth should Tenby want to get you out of the country?’’ "That's one of the many things I want to know," said Jim, grimly. "Even more pertinent—does Tenby know anything about the shooting last night?" Gordin’s expression was grave as he pushed cigarettes towards his visitor. "I can readily understand why you ask that question," he said, "and I’ll agree that it seems strange. But I can assure you I have had dealings with Michael Tenby forover ten years, and I have never once had reason to believe his methods are outside the law in any direction. Moreover, he is a successful man. But— ’’ Gordin stopped for a minute, and tapped his finger against his teeth, an unexpected gesture with that spruce-looking man. lie went on very slowly, his eyes on Wallace. "I will say, Mr Wallace, that there’s one thing to give me food for thought. I wouldn’t say this ' but for the fact that I know I can rely on your discretion, and that it does definitely affect you. Tenby has several times asked me to sell him the Kensington house, on your behalf." The solicitor stopped. Jim Wallace's eyes narrowed, and he whistled softly. "Has he, by Jove ! that’s interesting." "But no more than interesting," Cordin put in quickly. "I’m not prepared to admit that Tenby and your ‘Mr Smith’ are one and the same. After all, we may find Tenby has an i alibi for last night. It shouldn’t be hard to prove, without asking questions." | Wallace smiled to himself; Samuel i Cordin was no fool, and he put two j and two together well. Moreover, j the impression that he was a man to ] be relied on was confirmed as their • interview went on. | They talked for some time on the | things that had happened since Jim’s | arrival in England, and then approachjed the subject for which the inter- | view was originally intended, j "To be honest," said Gordin, with I a rather rueful smile, “your adven- | tures have shed a new light on things. I I’ve always known that your father’s method of earning a living did not meet with the approval of a great many people, and—since his death—l’ve learned that he ran the gaming house. ■ That, of course, is unofficial. But until you came in tjiis morning I had no idea there was anything likely to develop." "Was he a man to make enemies?" Jim asked. Gordin shrugged his shoulders; he committed himself very little throughout the interview. "All men make enemies," he said, ! "and often for the most absurd reaj sons. But John Wallace certainly i made a great many friends, and I was | proud to number myself among them." i Wallace said nothing, but this was j a further shock. All he had heard j of his father, and his own experience 1 of the man, had not tended to create 1 a picture of a man who would make SarhueVi Cordin proud to be his friend, i Certainly it seemed that in the last fifteen years John Wallace had changed a great deal. "At all events," said Cordin, quickly, "leaving out the developments, you are sole heir to a fortune of some fifty thousand pounds, with the Kensington house—valued, to-day at some four thousand pounds—and a small house in Surrey worth, perhaps, a quarter of that sum. It isn’t —” Cordin pressed the tips of his fingers together, and was much more like a family solicitor than he had been before —“a large fortune, Mr Wallace, but it is a comfortable one, and should provide you with an excellent living for the rest of your life." Jim nodded, thoughtfully. "There are no, conditions of any kind ?” "None at all,” said Cordin. “The will was a very brief one. It named only one legatee, yourself. There were no servants of any long standing working with him in the last year iof his life—in fact," the solicitor J added, frowning— "it did sometimes seem strange to me that he was per- | petually changing his servants, but j when I learned of the gaming house, I j naturally assumed lie had good rea- ! sons. Still, that doesn't really affect | us. So far as we are concerned, Mr Wallace, the will i£ ready for probate and you can come into possession of your inheritance within a few weeks. Certain documents will have to be signed, of course, but should you lie in any way handicapped through lack <t money you have only to call on me, and I’ll see that you have an advance sufficient to cover all your needs.”