THE OSSINGTON MYSTERY.

Kaipara and Waitemata Echo, 3 April 1914, Page 7

THE OSSINGTON MYSTERY.

By Hedley Richards, Author of "The Millionaire's Last Will," "The Day of Reckoning," etc., etc.

(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.)

CHAPTER I,

I TAKE THE CASE IN HAND

On the 31st of October, 19—, I took my seat in the Scotch express, which was timed to leave King's Cross at a quarter past five a.m. It was a raw, damp morning, and as we left the murky metropolis behind, I drew the collar of my coat up, wrapped my rug well round my legs, stretched my feet over the foot-warmer, and then leaned back to think. I. had been despatched in a hurry, in answer to a telegram from the Marquis of Troncastle requesting a detective to be sent at once. My , chief had only time to give me very \meagre details—in fact, he knew lit- ,%> of the case. All I heard was that )FißCount Bewley, only son of the Harquis of Troncastle, who possessed large estates near the town of that name, had been shot dead two nights before while walking towards ] Ossington Hall, the home seat of the ! marqnis. I wondered if the case would prove ! an intricate one, or if the murderer j would be easily traced ; and I maj' < as well say I hoped the former, as I was desirous of making a reputation something on a par with Brookes, our principal man, whom I shrewdly suspected would have had this case placed in his hands had he been at liberty, seeing that it was a tragedy in high life. i As the train flew on I speculated on the matter, and later in the day, on purchasing a paper, I saw a long account of the murder, which I decided not to read, as I wished to hear all the details without having, any preconceived theory. About noon the train reached Troncastle, and I looked out for the chief constable of the county, whom I expected to meet me, having telegraphed the time I should arrive. Nor was I disappointed, as I had scarcely stepped on the platform when a fine, elderly man greeted me. "Mr. Brown ?" he said, interrogatively. "Yes. I suppose you are Mr. Newton ?" "Right, air. And now will you como across to the refreshment room and have a little breakfast ? There is a train out Ossington way in twenty minutes, but if you prefer we can go to the hotel and take a later train." "By no means. I can get all I need in twenty minutes, particularly as I had a cup of eoSfee at York." . "All right, then—follow me." And in another minute we wer3 seated at a little table in the refreshment room. "Have you read the account in this morning's paper ?" inquired Mr. Newton. I sJusok my head, then said : "I wished to come fresh to the case." He nodded approvingly. "Then I will tell you all I know when we are in the train." "Ie it likely to prove a difficult cw,se ?" I asked, as I attacked a pile of ham vigorously. "I fancy so. There are several things I do not understand—although no doubt our local police could have managed it, aa we have some bright fellows." This hi? said with an accent of pride in bis voice. "However," he added, "the marquis would not have been satisfied, »ed I y&s perfectly willing the mattar should pnso O ut o f our hands. Of course, ye will ?rork with you ; but the responsibility will be yours." "I understand ; and if I require help I will oo»ie to you." Not wishing to go further into the matter there, I changed the conversation. Two minutes before the train started we seated ourselves in an empty second-class carriage. Then, as the train began moving, Mr. Newwton said : "Now I will state all I know about the ;jase: t The murdered man, Lord Bewley, was the only son and heir of the Marquis of Troncastle. As far as I can gather, nothing extraordinary occurred in any way on Monday. He spent the day much as usual. In the morning he was out shooting, and returned to luncheon. Afterwards he lounged about the garden, and was some time in a little sitting room devoted to his use. Between five and J^ixo'dock he left the Hall, intend*sj£rto caU on some friends who are staying for a few months in an old farmhouse near—or, rather, I should say, a Manor House on a farm. As he was passing through the vestibule prior to starting he met his sister, and In reply to a question told her where he was going, and that he might possibly afterwards take the train to Troncastle to see a young infantry officer with whom he was very friendly, in which case it would be late when he got home. Therefore, when he did not turn up to dinner, no uneasiness was felt. After the last Strain had passed and he did not return, they concluded he was staying with his friend. That was Mondaj night. About half-past seven o'clock yesterday, a man crossing through a dene on his way to work saw lying in a stream the body of Lord Bewley,and, finding he was dead, went at once to the Hall. Of course, the local policeman was summoned, a nd he ■wisely refused to have the body removed until his superior officer arrived. Owing to that I was there before it was taken from the stream, asd carefully noted the position in •which the body was found."

"Any poachers about ?" I asked. ! "Yes, a fair number ; but Lord Bevvley was very easy with them, and rather winked at them getting off if he saw any. It is not likely they would meddle with him, as once or twice he had persuaded his father not to prosecute when they had caught fellows poaching." "Then his lordship would be popular among the country folk ?" i "Decidedly. He was one oi those i jolly, easy-going young fellows who are usually liked, and was not known to have a single enemy." "Of whom does the household at the Hall consist ?" | "The Marquis, Lady Mary Neville —j Lord Bewley's only sister —and his cousin, Captain Neville. Of course, there are a large number of servants, sir." "Then the marquis is a widower?" I asked. "Yes, and has been many years." "And this cousin—was he the next heir after Lord Bewley ?" "Yes ; but he has a fair private income, I believe." "What sort of a man is he ?" "He is spoken very highly of in every way ; is considered, in point of ability and general character, far superior to the young lord." "Were they good friends ?" I ask[ed. "I believe so." "Where was he on Monday night, | Mr. Newton ?" j "He spent some time with friends, and returned through the dene, taking the path close to which Lord Bewley's body was found. I know this, because he told the doctor he thought his cousin could not have been dead as long as he appeared to think, stating that he had come through the dene on his way home, and must have passed the body. He admitted afterwards it was just possible, as the moon was completely hidden by a cloud" "Ah !" I exclaimed. "Yon don't like the look of it ?" continued Mr. Newton. "Of course, it is quite possible, but I should like to know for certain what terms they were on." Then I added, "Who was the last person to see his lordship alive ?" I "A gamekeeper on whom he called a little after seven. The doctor met him as he was leaving the Grey House, and he says^ it was then close on seven." "Who lives at the Grey House ?" "Sir Thomas Latimer, his wife, their daughter, and a niece, besides the servants. Lady Latimer is a daughter of the late Squire Raii- | dolph, and she inherited the Grey j House, which is a rambling old place i and was let for some time to a sort of gentleman farmer-; but lately it j I has stood empty, and the land is let | with other farms, so, when her ladyship's doctor in the south ordered her to spend some time in her native ; air, they had done it up and furnished." "No one there, it seems, likely to have done the young lord any harm; still, the young ladies may have been at the bottom of it. Some young fellow has perhaps been jealous of his lordship ?" "Quite likely ; but you will soon have an opportunity of hearing all the evidence. Inspector Nugent has been looking up the case, and as the inquest is fixed for three o'clock we shall just have time to call at ths Hall, and you can see the body, then go on to the dene, and return for the inquest. W e are very near Ossington. This land belongs to the marquis, and is very valuable owing to the pits. He has- a good big estate, and has lived very quietly. He is a studious man, spending most of his time in his library. I fancy if the young lord had lived he would have made the money fly. See, that's a colliery village"—pointing out of the window. I looked, and saw we were passing through a flat country, studded with collieries, and the accompanying long rows of miners' cottages. After passing two or three stations my companion said : "This is Ossington ;" and a s he spoke the train drew up in a small country station. In another minute we stood on the platform, and as the engine puffed out of the station we ascended a flight of wooden steps leading on to a high road. "We shall have to walk," said Mr. Newton. "I was not certain of the time we should arrive, or the marquis would have sent a trap to meet us. He is very gentlemanly and considerate." "All the better as it is. I am not anxious to have it spread over the neighbourhood that a detective has I arrived. I shall endeavour to conceal my business as far as possible. Are there any places about here worth sketching ?" "Yes, the dene, where the murder tooki place, makes a beautiful picture." "Then I shall represent myself as an artist, and in that character can doubtless gain much information." "But what about the pictures ?" j "Oh, I can both draw and paint a j little—enough to pass muster—so I j must ask you to send me a few ma- | terials down when you get back to | Troncastle." "Do you not intend returning ?" inquired Mr. Newton. "No ; I shall stay at some inn. I suppose there is one near the dene ?" "Yes ; I should advise you to stay at Bewley. I fancy there is a decent public-house there." While we were talkiing we walked quickly on, passing rows of cottages and here and there a shop. Shortly we came in sight of a pair of very ( ancient massive stone gate-posts. The original gate had evidently fallen into decay, and in place of it was a wooden one, plainly of village make, j and barely coated with paint. I noj ticed the contrast between the posts

[ and the gate, and remarked on it to my companion. "Yes, the posts are worthy of a better gate," he said, as we entered a long avenue ; "but this is really a public road—although the approach to the Hall —and the gate always stands open ; so I suppose the marquis thought it needless to spend much money on it." It would have been a pleasant walk in bright weather ; but the day was one of those murky autumn days, the air reeking with moisture, and the J roads muddy and thickly strewn with I leaves, after the previous day's rain. Still, the old trees—with the leaves that remained, bright in their autumn dress—which lined each side of the road formed an imposing spectacle, and I expressed an opinion of something of the kind. "The trees are very old, and in summer the avenue looks beautiful," said Mr. Newton, "but October in the country is cheerless." After walking about a mile ami a half, he exclaimed : "There is the Hall !" I looked in the direction indicated, and noticed that it presented the appearance of a long,' low, greystone building, with a square tower at one end. "That is one side of it," said Mr. Newton. A little further on we came to the end of the avenue. The road now took a sudden turn to the left, forming almost half a circle round the back of the Hall and grounds. Pollowing this road, in a few minutes we came to the end of the high wall which enclosed the grounds, which was replaced for a considerable distance by a low sunk fence, over which we had a good view of the mansion. It stood back a few hundred yards from the road, the building forming three squares of a quadrangle. The main portion directly facing us was of imposing appearance, surmounted by a turret at each end. The two wings were considerably lower, containing only two storeys, and what struck me most was the large number of windows in them. It was a big place, but had a bare, desolate look, and I said so. "Oh, the front of the Hall faces the other way into the gardens and park although the main entrance is this side," said Mr. Newton ; and as he spoke he opened a gate and led the way up the broad drive to the door of the mansion. Our ring was answered by a very pompous-looking footman, who evidently recognized Mr. Newton, and told him that the marquis was at home and wished to see him whenever he called. He then ushered us into a room, and requested us to wait until he informed the marquis of our arrival. The blinds were drawn giving the place a sombre aspect ; but I had hardly time to glance around before the man returned, saying his lordship would receive us at once. We followed him along a spacious vestibule ; then, pausing, he tapped gently at a door, and, on opening it, announced : "Mr. Newton, my lord." Then, closing the door, he withdrew. Seated at a table, bending over a book, was a gentlemanly-looking, man about sixty. His face was thoughtj M and intelligent, a nd the grey hair j was swept off a broad, high forehead. jHe looked up, and his keen glance rested on us a s he rose, and I noticed he was a little man of somewhat dapper build. Mr. Newton, as he advanci&d, said : "This is Mr. Brown, the detective, from London, my lord." The marquis turned to me : "I am glad to see you, Mr. Brown. It is my wish that this painful affair should be sifted to the bottom, and my son's murderer brought to justice." As he spoke, his voice slightly faltered. After a pause he said : _ "But will you not sit down ?" *As we seated ourselves, I said : "I hope I shall be able to do what your lordship wishes, but it may take time. However, I shall ,do my utmost." "Do not consider expense. Where money is required spend it freely, and let his blood be avenged." As he spoke I saw that his lordship believed in "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth." "I shall do everything in my power to secure the murderer, and I should like to be present at the inquest." "Certainly. And you are free to come and go as you will. I shall always be at liberty to see you, and if you would like to be on the spot, you can have rooms here, and my housekeeper will attend to your comfort." "Thank you, my lord, but I prefer staying at an inn. I wish to conceal my errand here, and would ask you 1 not to let it transpire in the household that a detective is in the neig.h■bourhood." "I will follow your wishes." Then, as his lordship paused, I said : i "Can I see the body ?" I saw a spasm of pain cross his face as he turned to ring the bell, and when the footman appeared he I told him to conduct us to the state j bed chamber. Bowing and wishing j him good morning, we followed the j man up a splendid staircase adorned | with statues, and along, one or two I corridors. At last he stopped, and softly opened the door. "You can wait outside," said Mr. Newton, as we entered. I carefully closed the door. Mr. Newton noted the action, and remarked : "I thought he had better stay. It would be something of a puzzle to find our way back without him." "All right ; but we want no listeners," I said, as we crossed to the

; bed 0:1 which the body of the young lord L.y. It was the state chamber, and the furniture, though re-upholstered, was very quaint. On the ancient oak bedstead, generations of his noble family would have been laid in their last sleep, but few would have met with such a sad fate in the pride of their manhood. I made some remark of the kind to Mr. Newton, as he lifted the handkerchief which covered the dead man's face and revealed the wound in the forehead. He was a handsome young fellow, of the robust type. His smooth black hair was brushed from a rather low forehead, and the face was broad and plump, without any of his father's intellectuality. I remarked on the difference in appearance. "Yes, he is like his mother. Captain Neville resembles the marquis a great lfeal more than Lord Bewley does." "He looks peaceful, poor fellow," I said. "Yes ; the doctor said that death must have been instantaneous." "Well, it's a sad fate, and I may have my work to find out who did it," I said, as I turned awaj. Mr. Newton followed, and we left the room, and in another minute were passing through the corridors, and down the staircase. At the foot the man paused. "Do you wish to see' the marquis again ?" he asked. "Not at present," said Mr. Newton. "We are going now." And he ushered us to the entrance. Very soon the great door had closed behind us. "Now for the dene," said Mr. Newton ; "there's no time to lose." And we walked quickly down the path. CHAPTER 11. THE INQUEST. For a little way we retraced our steps on the high road by which we had come, then turned through a gateway to the left, and along; a cart road leading past a neat row of cottages with pretty gardens, which even on that last day in October were bright with roses and pinks. I glanced carelessly at them, as I said: "It is just possible some of the people living here might know something. They could, perhaps, tell who passed on Monday night." After crossing /through some halfdozen fields, we came to a stile, and here we paused. "This is the direct road from the Hall to the dene," said Mr. Newton. I examined the ground about, but could see nothing unusual. Climbing over the stile we found ourselves in a broad footpath which ran between the field we had just crossed and the dene which lay below us. "Let us go down here," said Mr. Newton, pausing in front of a gap in the hedge. "Where does this path lead ?" I inquired. "It skirts along the edge of the dene, past some gardens to a few cottages standing in a field a little further on. The folks who live in them belong to the gardens." Descending the bank cautiously, as the short mossy grass was wet and slippery, while the leaves which lay thick on the ground were quite greasy with moisture, we had here and there to wade through a bed of fallen leaves. "What a dreary place this must be at night," I said, as we stood for an instant. "Yes, not a nice place to mcc*". a^y one who wanted you out of the way," replied mj companion, grimly ; 'but in the summer it is very beautiful, and lots of town-people come over picnicking." "It is beautiful now, but weird," I said, looking at the great trees almost bare save for a few bright-hued leaves on the branches, which swung mournfully backwards and forwards in tlte autumn wind. In a moment or two we reached a path, and here we again paused. As we looked around, I saw we were in a small, well-wooded valloy, about three hundred yards wide. Along the bottom of it ran a small streamlet, which was crossed a few yards to the right of us by a rustic footbridge. Beyond this, for a considerable distance, we could trace the stream, until a bend hid it from sight. Turning to the left, Mr. Newton said : "This is our way." Following the path along the edge of the stream, in a little while we came to a place where there was a weir and small sluice, which carried a large portion of the water into a narrow channel dug in the bank for 1 the purpose of supplying some of the cottages with water. Between this channel and the main I stream ran an uneven footpath,along I which we had to go. In many places [it was so narrow that we had to walk single file, and so wet and slippery that I should not have been surprised to find myself taking a n involuntary bath. I "Was the patu in this slippery ! state the night of the murdor ?" I inquired. % "No, it was quite dry. But just as the body was being moved yesterday the rain began to fall, and it came like a deluge all day and night, and only cleared about six this morning, Mr. Brown." After we had gone about one hundred yards, Mr. Newton suddenly stopped, and said : "The body was found here, lying at the bottom of this stream." Looking down, I saw it was very deep in this place, fully six feet, and very much overgrown with grass, so that any one might easily have passed at night, even in the brightest j moonlight, and not have seen the body. "How did he lie ?" I asked. "Fface downward.'?, * with the head towards the way we have come : and

as the wound traversed the top of the head, my idea is that the murderer must have met Lord Bewley as he was coming homewards, and shot him dead, the body falling in the stream." Looking round to get the general bearings o f the place, I found that the footpath passed over rising ground about here, causing the narrow channel to be very deep. On the further bank there was a considerable growth of underwood, and bej tween it and the edge of the valley was a small level space of grass. On the other side of the footpath was a steep bank, below which ran the main portion of the stream, and just at the point where we were now standing there was a large ash tree which grew on the top of the bank, in such a position as to partially obstruct the footpath. The main stream was very shallow, running over a stony bed, and just beyond the further bank rose a steep, wooded hill, forming the other side of the valley, which just here was somewhat narrow. I moved back a few paces, noting the position of the tree and the spot where the body had been found. It was evident Lord Bewley had been shot just after passing the tree, and that the' murderer had met him. In the full moonlight it would be an easy thing to do. As I rejoined Mr. Newton, I said : "Were there any marks of a struggle ?". "Not the slightest; and though the ground was fairly hard, I think if there had been we should have found traces, as it was examined at once." "I suppose you have not found a weapon ?" "No ; there Is absolutely no clue, so far as I know," replied Mr. Newton. I "Well, I must examine this spot at my leisure. , I have not time now. But one thing I am sure of —whoever committed the murder knows the place well." Mr. Newton nodded his head, and then said : "We must be making tour way back ; I should like to be there when the proceedings begin. By the waj, didn't you say you intended putting up at a public-house in the neighbourhood ?" "Yes, I think it may help me." "Then I advise you not to stay at the Ossington, but to pitch your tent at the Black Bull at New Bewley, just over there"—pointing down the valley. "It is near the foot of the dene, and will be more convenient for you, besides being a decent country inn." "Thanks, I will take your advice. When I leave the Hall, will this be my road ?" "Oh, -no ; you'd better take the high road. I'll send one of our men to show you the way." "I shall be glad of his Company, only he must leave me before I enter the village." "All right. And now we must step on." (To he Continued.)