The Missing Bank Manager

Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 142, 6 September 1927, Page 14

The Missing Bank Manager

SERIAL

By

J. S. FLETCHER

STORY

"Anything you like!” said Betty, eagerly. A thousand pounds—would that do, to begin with?” •We'll say half of it,” answered i Starmidge. "Very good. Now, Mr. n Polke, if you’ll tell me where this Mr. Parkinson’s to be found, and where the best printing office in the place is, y I’ll go to work.” j Scammond’s are the best printers—and they’re quick,” said Polke. "But e I'll come with you.” v •Is there anything I can do? asked Betty. "If I could only be doing some- .. thing.’* . h Starmidge nodded his comprehension and mused a while. "Just so!” he said. “You don’t want to sit and wait. Well, there is some- jthing you might do, Miss Fosdkye, as you’re Mr. Horbury’s niece. Mr. Polke’s s been telling me about Mr. Horbury’s r household arrangements. Now, as you t are a relation, suppose you call on his housekeeper, who was the last person }- to see him, and get all the information i you can out of her? Draw her on to c talk —you never know what interest- t ing point you mayn’t get in that way. t And —are you Mr. Horbury’s near.. t relative?” I ••Yes —the very nearest —next-of-kin,” answered Betty. i "Then ask to see his papers—his j desk —his private belongings,” said ( Starmidge. "Demand to see them! s You’ve the legal right. And let us c know —you’ll always find me some- a where about Mr. Polke’s —how you get s on. Now, Superintendent, -we’ll get 1 to work.” * Outside the Scarnham Arms, Star- 1 midge looked at his companion with a sly smile. “Are you anything of a c betting man?” he asked. "Naught much —odd half-crown now - and then,” replied Polke. "Why?” 1 "Lay you a fiver to a shilling, Miss I Fosdyke won’t see anything of Horbury’s—nor get any information!” * said Starmidge, more slyly than ever. "She won’t be allowed!” 1 Polke gave the detective a shrewd look. , . "I daresay!” he said. "Whew! —-its - a queer game, this, Starmidge. First moves of it, anyway.” 1 "Let’s get on to the next,” counselled t Starmidge. "Where’s this journalist?” Mr. Parkinson, a high-browed, J shock-headed young man, who com- £ bined the duties of editor and reporter ] with those of advertisement canvasser ] arid busines manager of the one four- ] page sheet which Scarnham boasted, ‘ received the two police officials in a small office in which there was just ‘ room for himself and his visitors to squeeze themselves.” T was about coming round to you, Mr. Polke.” he said. "Can you let me , have the facts of this Horbury affair?” i "We’ve come to save you the trouble,” answered Polke. "This gentleman —Detective-Sergeant Starmidge, of the C.1.D., Mr. Parkinson —wants to have a bit of a transaction with you.” Parkinson eyed the famous detective with as much wonder as Neale had felt on the previous evening. "Oh!” he exclaimed. "Pleased to meet you, sir—l’ve heard of you. What can I da for you, Mr. Starmidge?” "Can you wire—at our expense^—a full account of all that I shall tell you, to a London Press agency that’ll distribute it amongst all the London papers at once?” said Starmidge. “You know what I mean?” "I can.” answered Parkinson. "And principal provincials, too. It’ll be in all the evening papers this very night, "Then come on.” said Starmidge, dropping into a chair by the editorial desk. "I’ll tell you all about it.” Polke listened admiringly while the detective carefully narrated the facts of what was henceforth to be known as the Scarnham Mystery. Nothing appeared to have escaped Starmidge’s observation and attention. And he was surprised to find that the detective’s presentation of the case was not that which he himself would have made. Starmidge did no more than refer to the fact that Lady Ellersdeane’s jewels were missing; he said nothing whatever about the rumour that some of Chestermarke’s securities were said to have disappeared. But on one point he laid great stress —the visit of the little gentleman with tho large grey moustache to the Station Hotel at Scarnham on the ev« whereon John Horbury disappeared, and to the fragments of conversation overheard by Mrs. Pratt. He described the stranger as Mrs. Pratt had described him, and appealed to him if he read this news, to come forward at once. Finally, he supplemented his account with a full description of John Horbury, carefully furnished by the united efforts of Polke and Parkinson, and wound up by announcing the five hundred pounds reward. "All over England, to-night and tomorrow morning, sir,” said Parkinson, gathering up his copy. "Now, I’m off to wire this at once. Great engine, the Press. Mr. Starmidge! I daresay vou find it very useful in your walk of life.” Starmidge followed Polke into the Market Place again. "Now for that reward bill!” he said. "I don’t set so much store by it, but it’s got to be done. It all helps. There’s Miss Fosdyke—going to have a try at her bit.” He pointed down the broad pavement with an amused smile. Miss P®tty Fosdyke. attired in her smartest, was just entering the portals of Chextermarke's Bank.

CHAPTER X. THE CHESTERMARKE WAY. Mrs. Carswell herself opened the door of the bank house in response to Miss Fosdyke’s ring. She started a little at sight of the visitor, and her eyes glanced involuntarily and, as it seemed to Betty, with something of j uneasiness, at the side door which led ! into the Chestermarkes* private par- 1 lour. And Betty immediately interpreted the meaning of that glance. ‘No, Mrs. Carswell.” she said, before 1 the housekeeper could speak. "I haven’t come to call on either Mr. Gabriel or Mr. Joseph Chestermarke —I came to see you. Mayn’t I come in?” Mrs. Carswell stepped back into the hall and Betty followed. For a moment the two looked at each other. And in the elder woman’s eyes there was still the same expression, and it was with obvious uncertainty, if not with positive suspicion, that she waited. "You have not heard anything of Mr. Horbury?” asked Betty, who was not slow to notice the housekeeper’s demeanour. •Nothing!” replied Mrs. Carswell, with a shake of the head. "Nothing at all! No one has told me anything” Betty turned to the door of the dining-room. "Very well.” she said. "I daresay you know. Mrs. Carswell, that I am my uncle’s nearest relation! Now I want to go through his papers and things. I want to see his desk—his last letters—anything—and everything there is.” She laid a hand on the door—and Mrs. Carswell suddenly found her tongue. "Oh, miss!” she said In a low, frightened voice. "You can’t! That room’s locked up. So is the study—where all Mr. Horbury’s papers are. So is his bedroom. Mr. Joseph Chestermarke locked them all up last night —he has the keys. Nobody’s to go into them—nor into any other room I without his permission.” Betty’s cheeks began to glow, and an obstinate look to settle about her lips. "Obi” she exclaimed, "But l tiling

I shall have something to say to that, Mrs. Carswell. Ask Mr. Joseph Chestermarke to come here a minute.” The housekeeper shrank back. “I daren’t. Miss Fosdyke!” she answered. "It would be as much as ! my place was worth!” “I thought you were my uncle’s housekeeper,” suggested Betty. "Aren’t you? Or are you employed by Mr. Joseph Chestermarke. Come, now.” Mrs. Carswell hesitated. It was very evident that she was afraid. But of what? "So far as I know,” continued Betty, "this is my uncle’s house, and you’re his servant. Am I right, or wrong, Mrs. Carswell?” "Right as regards my being engaged by Mr. Horbury,” replied the housekeeper. "But the house belongs to—them! Mr. Horbury—so I understand —had the use of it —it was reckoned as part of his salary. It's their house, miss.” "But, anyway, my uncle’s effects are his, and I mean to see them,” insisted Betty. "If you won’t call Mr. Joseph—or Mr. Gabriel—out, I shall walk into the bank at the front door and demand to see them. You’d better let one of them know I’m here, Mrs. Carswell — I’m not going to stand any nonsense.” Mrs. Carswell hesitated a little, but in the end she knocked timidly at the private door. And presently Joseph Chestermarke opened it, looked out, saw Betty, and came into the hall. He offered his visitor no polite greeting, and for once he forgot his accustomed sneering smile. Instead, he gave the housekeeper a swift look which sent her away in haste, and he turned to Betty with an air of annoyance. "Yes?” he asked abruptly. "What do you want?” "I want to go into my uncle’s, house —into his rooms,” said Betty. "I am his next-of-kin—l wish to examine his papers.” "You can’t,” answered Joseph. "We haven't examined them ourselves yet.” "What right have you to examine them?” demanded Betty. "Every right!” retorted Joseph. "Not his private belongings!” she said firmly. / "This is our house —you’re not going into it,” declared Joseph. “Nobody’s going into it —without our permission.” “We’ll see about that, Mr. Joseph Chestermarke!” replied Betty. “If — supposing—my uncle is dead, I’ve the right to examine anything he’s left. I insist upon it! I insist on seeing his papers, looking through his desk. And at once!” "No!” said Joseph. "Nothing of the sort. We don’t know that you’ve any right. We don’t know that you’re his next-of-kin. We’re not—legally—-

aware that you’re his niece. You say you are—but we don’t know it —as a matter of real fact. You’d better go away.” Betty’s cheeks flamed hotly and her eyes flashed. “So that’s your attitude-—"o me!” she exclaimed. "Very well! But you sfyall soon see whether I am what I say I am. What are you and your uncle implying, suggesting, hintiag at?” she went on, suddenly letting her naturally hot temper get the better of her. "Do you realise what an utterly unworthy part you are playing? You accuse my uncle of being a thief —and you dare not make anyspecified accusation against him! You charge him with stealing your securities —and you daren’t tell the police what securities! I don’t believe you’ve a security missing! Nooody believes it! The police don’t believe it. Lord Ellersdeane doesn’t believe it. Why, your own clerk, Mr. Neale, who ought to know, if anybody does, doesn’t believe it! You’re telling lies, Mr. Joseph Chestermarke —there! Lies! I’ll denounce you to the whole town — I’ll expose you! I believe my uncle has met with some foul play—and as sure as I am his niece I’ll probe the whole thing to the bottom. Are you going to admit me to those rooms?” The door of the private room, which j Joseph had left slightly ajar behind him, . was pushed open a little, and Gabriel’s j colourless face looked out. "Tell the young woman to go and j see a solicitor,” he said, and vanished again. Joseph glanced at Betty, who was still staring indignantly at him. "You hear?” he said quietly. "Now you’d better go away. You are not going in there.” Betty- suddenly turned and walked out. She was across the Market Place and at the door of the Scarnham Arms before her self-possession had come back to her. And she was aware then that a gentleman, who had just alighted from a horse which a groom was leading away to the stable yard, was bowing and smiling at her. "Oh!” she exclaimed. "Is it you, Lord Ellersdeane?—l beg your pardon —I was preoccupied.” “So I saw,” said the Earl. "I’d watched you come across from the bank. Is there any news this morning?” "Come up to my sitting-room and let us talk.” said Betty. She led the wayupstairs and closed the door on herself and her visitor. "No news of my : uncle,” she continued, turning to the i Earl. "Have you any?” ! The Earl shook his head disap- | pointedly. “No!” he replied. "I wish I had! I I myself and a lot of my- men have been searching all round Ellersdeane —practically all night. We’ve made inquiries | at each of the neighbouring villages— I without result. Have the police heard I anything?—l’ve only just come into ' the town.” I "You haven’t seen Polke, then?” said j Betty. "Oh, well, we heard something i last night.” She went on to tell the

Earl of the meeting with the tinker, and of Mrs. Pratt’s account of the mysterious stranger, and of what Starmidge was now doing. “It all seems such slow work,” she concluded. "But I suppose the police can’t move any faster.” ‘Tou heard nothing at the bank itself —from the Chestermarkes?” asked the Earl. "I heard sufficient to make me as — as absent-minded as I was when you met me just now!” answered Betty. “I went there, as my uncle’s nearest

relative, with a simple request to see his papers and things—a very natural desire, surely. The Chestermarkes have locked up his rooms—and they ordered me out—showed me the door!” “How very extraordinary!” exclaimed the Earl. “Really!—in so many words?” "I think Joseph had the grace to say I had better go away,” said Betty. "And Gabriel —who called me a young woman—told me to go and see a solicitor. Which, of course,” she added reflectively, "is precisely what I shall do —as they will very soon find!” The Earl stepped over to one of the windows, and stood for a moment or two looking silently out on the Market Place. “I don’t understand this at all,” he said at last. “What is the meaning of all this reserve on the Chestermarkes’ part? Why don’t they tell the police what Securities are missing? Why don’t they let you, his niece, examine Horbury’s effects? What right have they to fasten up his house?” "Their house —so Mrs. Carswell says,” remarked Betty. “Oh. well —it may be their house, strictly speaking,” agreed the Earl, “but Horbury was its tenant, anyway, and the furniture and things in it are his —I’m sure of that, for he and I shared a similar taste in collecting old oak, and I know where he bought most of his possessions. I can’t make the behaviour of these people out at all —and I’m getting more and more uneasy about the whole thing, Miss Fosdyke—as I’m sure you are. I wonder if the police will find the man who came to the Station Hotel on Saturday? Now, if they could lay hands on him, and get to know who he was, and vvhat he wanted, and if he really met your uncle ” The Earl suddenly paused and turned from the window with a glance at Betty. “There’s young Mr. Neale coming across from the bank,’ he observed. "I think lie’s coming here. By-tlie-by, isn’t he a relative of Horbury's?” "No.” said Betty. “But my uncle was his guardian. Is he coming here, Lord Ellersdeane?” “Straight here,” replied the Earl. "Perhaps he’s got some news.” Betty had the door open before Neale could knock at it. He came in with a smile, and glenced half-whim-sically, half as if he had queer news to give, at the two people who looked so inquiringly at him. "Well?” demanded Betty. “What is it, Wallie? Have these two precious principals sent you with news?” "They’re not my principals any longer,” answered Neale. He laid down some books and an old jacket on the table. "That’s my old working coat,” lie went on with a laugh. “I’ve worn it for the last time —at Chestermarkes’. They’ve dismissed me.” Lord Ellersdeane turned sharply ! from the window, and Betty indulged in a cry of indignation. .. (Tu be continued.).