THE OSINGTON MYSTERY.

Kaipara and Waitemata Echo, 10 April 1914, Page 7

THE OSINGTON MYSTERY.

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

(ALL RIGHTS '

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS PART. * v-T? e story"°»ens with a tragedy in ' high life : Viscount Bewley only son and heir of the Marquis of Troncastle, a wealthy estate owner, is found dead ; shot while walking towards Ossington Hall, the seat of the Marquis, situated a mile or so from the Ossington Railway station. The case is placed in the hands of Detective Brown of Scotland Yard for investigation, who upon his arrival is instructed regarding, the particulars of the murder by Mr. Newton, chief constable of the county. The murdered Viscount was most Popular in' the district. The other members of the Marquis's household are Lady Mary Neville, sister of the Jj|£ed Viscount, and her cousin, CaPyir Neville next heir after the Viscount. The detective and Mr. Newton, having- interviewed the Marquis at the Hall, are now returning from the scene of the tragedy to be present at the opening of the inquest. PART 2. CHAPTER ll.—(Continued.) Very quickly we returned, but it was just ten minutes to three when we reached the Hall. The footman admitted us, and the grave old butler led us to the dining room, where the inquest was to be held. At one end of a large dining-taole a genLleman was seated, whom I at once concluded was the coroner, aud at the sides were some half-dozen men who had the air of well-to-do farmers. A little further back, at a small table, an elderly gentleman was making notes in a pocket-book, while at one side of the room three policemen were seated. "Keep dark as to who .1 am," I whispered. Mr. Newton nodded, and as he went towards the coroner, I slipped into a seat in the corner where I should be unnoticed, a nd still be able to see what was going on. Presently the other six jurors came in. Most of them looked like farmers, but there were two exceptions — one having the air of a shrewd, business man, and the other struc': me as \z- ;- irig a publican. Then three or four reporters appeared, and as the clock struck three, the proceedings commenced by the coroner and jury going to view the,bodj. Two of -he reporters followed, but the other two remained, and as they were not se-.t-ed far from me, I overheard the.following, remarks : "I say, who's that old fellow with his note-book ?" asked one. "Don't you know him ? Why, he's Mr. Graham, of the firm of Graham, Martin, and Sons. He's the marquis's lawyer." "Oh, I see. Watching the case on behalf of the family." "Yes. They saj there's no clue to 'he murderer." And they began to talk about something else. Presently I saw they were bestowing their attention on me, and I wondered if they would discover who t was, and in the next day's paper Inform the public that a detective was on the spot. Just then the cioroaer and jury returned, and they settled down to business. The first witness called was Mark Patterson, the man who hid found the body. When his name was called 3ne of . the policemen left the room and fetched him from a small apartnent where he and the other witnesses were waiting. As he entered I noticed he was a tall, lean man, eviiently impressed with the dignity of ais position as chief Witness. Having taken the oath, the coroner asked him to state how he found the body of Lord Bewley. "I was coming,, through the dene on the way to my 'work —I works at Old Bewley —and when I gets to the ash tree something catches my eye, a nd I looks down, and I was very nigh scared to death when I see his lordship lying in the stream." ■^ "You knew him at once ?'* asked the coroner. "Well, not at the very first look ; but 7. saw he was a gentleman. Then I stooped down, and when I saw the . black curly hair, I guessed it was him ; so I just turned him over to see if he was dead, an ! he was dead as a door-nail so I laid him down as I found him and went to tell the police." "Was his head uncovered ?" "Yes, his hat was in the water a jj^little ahead of him." ~. "As though it had fallen forward when he dropped into the water ?" asfeed the coroner. "Very like that." "Did you see the wound in the Iread ?" "I did, and I knew there had been foul pl-ay, so I fetched the police." "What tim-e was that ?" "I think it would just have gone half-past seven." "Did you see any sis;ns of a struggle ?" "I didn't ; but the ground was hard, not muddy like it is now." "Where do you live ?" "I live on the road to Ossington." Finding he had no more information to give he was told to sit down, aod took his place at the side ; and the policeman to whom he had given notice was then called, and gave the following evidence. '1 am stationed at New Bewley, and was just sii:f.i;v:. ;I;v.-n to my breakfast yesterday, when Mark Patterson rushed in and tolti me he had found Lord Bewley shot dead, and

lying m a stream in the Gene, l went at once with him to the spot, first sending- a note by my little boy to the constable at Ossington to join me there. On reaching the place where the body lay, I turned it gently over and found his lordship was quite •dead. The wound was very distinct, and I knew at once there had been murder done. When the other policeman arrived he despatched a telegram to our inspector, and he also informed the marquis, who telegraphed for Mr. Newton, the chief constable of the county. Until they arrived, the body remained as it was, and was then removed to the Hall. Afterwards the ground was carefully examined, but there was no sign of any struggle, and no weapon hns been found. From the position of the body, I should say the shot was fired by some one who met his lordship, and that as he fell the body dropped into the water." After this, corroborative evidence was given by the constable from Ossington, and by the inspector of the district, who detailed the search that had been made for the weapon, but which had proved unsuccessful. The doctor was next called, but hearing he had not arrived, they were a'iout to call some one else, when he entered hastily. He was a big, burly man, with a genial manner, which became soberer as he gave his evidence. Death, he stated, was caused by a wound at ' the very top of the forehead, and as ? the bullet had passed through the brain and come out at the bac«, death must have been instantaneous. He should judge he had been dead thirteen or fourteen hours when he saw him. "What time did you see him ?" inquired the coroner. "It was nine o'clock in the morning." "That would fix the time of the murder from seven to eight the preceding night." "I should judge he Bad been dead that time." "Was it possible for him to have fired a shot, inflicting such a wound, doctor ?" "Utterly impossible, I should say. The wound was too high. Had he shot himself, the pistol would have been placed lower down." "Were you his lordship's doctor ?" "Yes ; I had attended him from infancy." "Do you consider he was a likely man to commit suicide ?" "The last man in the world, I should say." ■ "When did you last see him alive, doctor ?" j "A little after six — perhaps a • ! quarter or twenty minutes past — on I Monday evening." ; This created a sensation. I "Tkat is within an hour of the ' time you think he was shot ?" "Yes." "Where did you see him ?" "I was just entering the Grey i House as he came out." | "Is that where Sir Thomas -Lati- ; mer is staying, ?" | "Yes, sir." ; "Did he; seem mu,ch as usual ?" j "No; he'seemed annoyed about something." "I suppose you spoke to him ?" "Yes." "Perhaps you will tell us what I passed ?" ; j "I was going up the steps as. he I came down, and I called out, 'Hulloa Lord Bewley !—you here ? I met your | cousin on his way to Abbeyfort.' , | 'Confound him, I wish he'd go to blazes,' he replied. 'Whew ! what's that for ?' And as he gave me no j answer, but turned away, I said, , 'Where are you off to ?' 'The devil,' !he said, as he walked away. 'His company won't make you feel any \ happier, my lord,' I called after him; 'better go, and see some pretty girl.' You see, I had known him from a ' baby, so spoke freely to him." i "Did he reply ?" "Only that he had had enough of girls." | "Now what impression did that | conversation give you ?" ; "That he wan terribly vexed about something. But.i'l have seen him in similar tempers ..before. His lordship was hot-tempered." ! ' "It did not,-' Strike you he was in a mood to lay ■•violent hands on himself ?" , ■ "Decidedly hot." j "Looking back at that conversaj tion, and knowing he has met with a , violent death, do you think it likely : h» killed himself ?" "Emphatically—no !" j "How do you fix the time you met Lord Bewley ?" ' "Because, on inquiring, I found Lady Latimer was out ; therefore I did not go in, but drove at once to see my next patient, Mr. Grey, at Four Stones House, near Helsdon, and it was twenty minutes to seven when I reached there." "Have you ever heard Lord Bewley speak in such an angry manner about his cousin previously ?" "I think not ; they were usually good friends. But his lordship was hasty, and, if annoyed, spoke sharply." This closed the doctor's examination, and the next witness was called. "What is your name ?" asked the coroner. "Thomas Jarvis, please your honour. But I'm better known as To;n Jarvis, head gamekeeper to the markis ; and I lives in a cottage at the bottom of the dene. The markiis offered me a better, bigger house nigh five years ago, but mo and the missis had got used to this one, so we stayed on." "Very well, my man. And when did you last see Lord Bewley alive ?" "It was on Monday night, sir ; :\n' little I thought he was going to his I death when he left me." 1 "Where did you se^ him ?"

"Why, he called at my house." "Can you remember what time he came ?" "Well, I should say it was somewhere about five-and-twenty to seven. Anyhow, it was just ten minutes to seven when he left." "How do you know that ?" "Because, as I went into the house, the missis says to me, 'Tom, our Bill's late to-night.' You see, he ought to have been home at halfPast six ; and I looks at the clock, and it was just ten minutes to seven, an' in another minute our Bill came in." "That would make Lord Bewley having been a quarter of an hour with you ?" "I should think he was that long." "What did he come about ?" "Well, I was just coming out of the door, when his lordship comes up and he says, 'Tom, I mean to have a day's shooting tomorrow.' So I says, 'Yes, my lord ;' and he says, to me, 'Tom, be ready to go with me at nine in the morning.' And I says, 'Yes, my lord ; and is the captain goin', too ?' And he Rajs 'The devil take the captain. I'll have none of his company.' No disrespect to the captain, sir ; I'm only telling what his lordship said. 'Very well, sir,' I says, for it wasn't for me to argue as to where the captain must go ; and then Lord Bewley turned round to go, and I says, 'Would you , like to. look at them pups of Bessie's my lord? She's a setter as h d p.ps last week ;' and his lordship stopped short, and says, 'Where are they ?' and I says, 'In a shed at the backi ;' and I gets a lamp and he follows me.Then, while he looks at them he came better tempered like, and says one or. two were beauties ; and he was right. His lordship knew a good dog when he saw it ; and so he stayed talking about them, and when he left the shed I walked round to the cottage with him, and he stops i at the door and says, 'Good ni<ht, I Tom. I've stayed "ever so much longer than I intended, but you and your dogs are both alike for hindering. I always say if I come here I stay twice the time I intend.' So I said, 'I believe you, my lord ;it always was so from the time you was a little chap—if you'll excuse me calling you that ; but even then you liked dogs.' 'Eh ! —dogs, horses, and women ; and confound them ! —the last are the most trouble.' Then callin?, 'Goad night, Tom,' he set off up the dene, an' I went in." "Was that the last time you saw him alive ?" / "Yes. The next time I saw him was | when he lay stiff and cold in the ; dene, and the police was minding as no one moved him." "Did it strike you from the way his lordship spoke that there was illfeeling between him and Captain Neville ?" "I thought as his lordship was vexed with the captain ; but when he j was vexed with any one one minute, 1 he. was all right the next. I've known I him to call me an old fool, then ten minutes after he'd say I was a sharp fellow. It was his lordship's way, and for all that he was a pleasant gentleman, as it was a pleasure to serve, but he'd his bits of temper— meaning no disrespect to his lord- ; ship's memory." 1 Finding he had no more evidence to : give, he was told to sit down, and joined Patterson at one side of the room. ! The next witness called was the : Marquis of Troncastle. CHAPTER 111. '"! FURTHER EVIDENCE. 'In a few minutes his lordship entered the room. He looked grave and troubled, but gave his evidence in a clear, distinct tone. "Lord Bewley was my only son, ; and heir-presumptive to my titles and estates," he said to a question from 'the coroner. "When did you last see' him alive?" ! "At luncheon on Monday. I be- ; lieve he did not leave the house until late in the afternoon, but I did not see him after going to my library." "Was he in his usual mood during : the meal ?" I "Looking back, I can see he was i quieter, and not so genial as usual. |At the time it did not strike me." "Who were present at luncheon ?" "My daughter, Lord Bewley, and Captain Neville." "Were Lord Bewley and the captain on good terms ?" "To the best of my belief, on very good terms ;" and the marquis looked surprised at the question. I "Y,ou are not aware of any difference between them ?" "Certainly not ;" and there was a little hauteur in his lordship's tone. "You did not see Lord Bewley again until after his death ?" "I did not ;" and the marquis's voice had a ring of pain in it. "You are not aware of any enemy your son had ?" "Certainly not. My son was very genial, aud little dis^cse. 1. to make enemies." "Were you not ii:\aas> when his lordship did not .apnrar that night?" "Not at nil. My daughter explained that he had said he miv;ht spend the evening in Trcmc silo ; and as I knew he often remained -all night, I expected to see him some time about noon the next day." "He has been away all night previously ?" inquired the coroner. "Many times. He was uncertain in his habits." "Was Captain Neville present at dinner ?" "Yes." "What time do you dine ?" "At eight w'cloc!:." "What time did the captain come home that night ?" "I cannot say ; I only know he was present at dinner." This closed the marquis's examination, and after vi-.is.oarinj; a tew

word;; to Bis lawyer, he turned to [ Leave the room, just as the coroner called for Lady Mary Neville. In a short time he reappeared with a: young lady who leaned on his arm as she glanced nervously round. She was a total contrast to the murdered man, being small, slight, and remarkably like her father, her face bearing the same stamp of intellec- ' tuality ; but blending with it there was a look of quiet modesty. She was not beautiful, but she was a refined, intelligent-looling girl, who' evidently felt her present position ; very painful. "When did you last see Lord BewLey alive ?" inquired the coroner. "About half-past five on Monday afternoon." "Did he tell you where he was go-; ing ?" ! "He said he intended calling at the Grey House, and might return to dinner, or he might possibly go on to Troncastle to see a friend." "Did he say anything about not returning that night ?" "He did not. But he has often remained the night when visiting his friend, so we were not surprised when tie did not return." "Did he tell you on what his going to Tronoastle would depend ?" Up to this time Lady Mary had given her evidence in a firm tone and i with a quiet manner. Now she flushed quickly, and her voice was slightly agitated, as she replied : "He said if he had good news to tell me he should return to dinner ; if not, he would probably go on to Proncastle." "Do you know to what he alluded, Lady Mary ?" At this question she became still more agitated. "Am I obliged to answer ?" she asked, turning, to h?r father. "I suppose the coroner will not ask any needless questions," he replied ; at the same time his manner showed that he thought this an unnecessary one. "I should like an answer, Lady Mary," said the coroner. "I believe the news related to a lady at the Grey House. If what he intended saying was favourably received, he purposed returning to dinner." "I believe Captain Neville returned to dinner ?" "Yes." "Do you remember the time he came in ?" "1 do not." "Now, Lady Mary, are you aware of any ill-feeling existing between your brother and Captain Neville ?" j At this question her face flushed -. and a look of fear came into her , eyes for one instant. Then she ans- j vvered, calmly : "I think they differed sometimes." "Do you know of any cause of con- | tention between them—any jealousy, or anything of that kind ?" "There may have been," she said, as the flush died away, leaving her ashy white. "Do you know of any ?" repeated the coroner. • I An expression of dread came jnto j her face as she said : ! "I think there was some jealousy." "Have you heard them quarrel ?" "Once or twice lately, but it was very recent. Usually they were good friends. My brother was quick-tem-pered when annoyed." While Lady Mary was making these admissions the marquis looked absolutely amazed. Evidently he was not aware that any ill-feeling had existed between his son and his nephew, and as the coroner intimated he had no more questions to ask her ladyship, he rose, and, offering his child , his arm, led her from, the room. The next witness was Sir Thomas Latimer. He was a tall, aristocratic looking man, and, in roly to the coroner, stated that he and his f zmily were spending some moiths at the Grey House, which b to his wife, who was in delic.vte health, and had been ordered tbo;e by her doctor, it being her native air. "Of whom does your family consist, Sir Thomas ?" ; "Of my wife, dau-ghter, pn-d niece." "I believe Lord Bewley visited frequently at your house ?" "He did. The marquis had known my wife before her marriage, and during our residence here the intimacy had been renewed, the young people of both families visiting frequently." "Did 5011 see his lordship when he called on Monday evening ?" "I did not. I was spending the day with some friends at a distance." j "Did Lady Latimer see him ?" j "No ; she was with me, and also my daughter. I believe my niece saw him." "Now, Sir Thomas, I shall be obliged if you will say whether you knew of any ill-feeling between Lord Bewley and Captain Neville—any jealousy about any member "of your family ?" j "Certainly not." "Thank you. I have no further questions to ask,' but must call upon your niece. Is she at thu Hall ?" "Yes, she came with me. The police intimated that her evidence would be required." As he cease ! speaking he left the room, but returned in a few minutes, and all eyes were fixed curiously on the beautiful girl who leaned on his arm. She was very tall, and with a lithe grace in every movement of her willowy figure. Her face was perfect in a most uncommon type of beauty, her skin being clear olive, and her features absolutely faultless in their regularity. Her eyes were very large, dark brown, and fringed with long, black lashes, a n<l a wealth of hair of the same dark hue was gathered in massive plaits on the top of her head, the brow being shaded by a wavy mass of cvurls which dropped on the forehead. Her dress w.ik a simple black stuff of kind, with

a plain, tight-fitting black ;\. 2t. She had removed her hat while waiting. I noticed she was calm and composed, a nd did not appear at all disturbed by the gaze of so many pairs of eyes. In reply to the coroner she stated her name was Blanche Latimer, and she resided with her uncle and .aunt. "You knew the late Lord Bewley intimately ?" 1 "Yes, we were good friends," she said, quietly ; and I noticed though her English was pure, there, was a slight foreign accent. "You also know Captain Neville ?" "I do. I know all the members of the marquis's family." Here one of the jurors whispered something to the coroner, who nodded, then proceeded with the examination. "Did both gentlemen visit you on the day of the murder ?" "Yes." Her voice was clear and firm. "Which of them called first ?" "Captain Neville." "What time was that ?" "About a quarter-past five in the afternoon." "Were the other members of the family then absent ?" "Yes." "How long did the captain remain, please ?" "I should think a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes." "When he left you, did he say where he was going ?" "He did not." "How long after his departure was ! it before Lord Bewley called ?" ■ "I cannot say positively, but think twenty or twenty-five minutes." j "Do you remember what time he left ?" "I am not sure. I imagine it would be about a quarter-past six." "Then he remained about as long j as his cousin ?" "I suppose so ; I did not notice j particularly," she said, in a wearied tone. "Now, Miss Latimer, I am obliged to ask you a question which may be unpleasant to answer, but it is necessary in the interests of the case." She bowed, but made no reply, and waited calmly fpr him to proceed. "Did anything transpire during that interview which would cause his j lordship to imagine he had reason to j be jealous of Captain Neville ?" "I do not think he left with such an impression." "I must put it plainer. We have been given to understand that both gentlemen admired you, and that his lordship left home to call on you, hoping to return with g.ood news for his sister. Now, I wish to know if he expressed his admiration, and if it was favourably received ?" "His lordship made me an offer of marriage, which I refused," she said. (To he Continued.)