The Nets of Fate

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 330, 16 April 1928, Page 5

The Nets of Fate

SERIAL STORY

By

OTTWELL BINNS

CHAPTER IV.—Continued. But did Pat know about the dead man at Carlow Gardens? That was the next question that occurred to her. The phrase in his note about the man whom he had gone to see being in no condition to discuss business implied something unusual. It might mean that he was merely drunk, or it might mean that he was dead, and that her brother also had been in that disordered room and had looked into that white face. She was troubled to think that this latter possibly might be the explanation of that cryptic phrase, and was harassed by the thought that until she could see Pat the point could not be definitely settled. Tindall helped her to disrobe, and, determined to put the matter from her mind till daylight, since she could get no nearer the solution of the problem for the present, she shut her eyes and tried to sleep. It was long, howler, before she did so, and when at last slumber came to her, it was broken and disturbed by evil dreams. Again and again she seemed to be wandering through an opaque fog, which at one point seemed less dense, and against that was outlined the form of a man. In her dreams she felt the necessity laid upon her to discover that man’s identity. She fried to get nearer to him that she might learn who he was, but always, according to the common experience °f nightmare, her feet seemed to be logged, something held her back, and never could she get an inch nearer fo that shadowy form. Dawn was almost at hand when she fell into a dreamless sleep from which she awoke three hours later much refreshed. Tindall came in to drs.w the curtains and to bring her morning tea. As the memory of the ev ents of the previous night came back to her with a rush, she watched fbe maid carefully in order to learn by any means she had betrayed anything of the dreadful experience through which she had passed. Apparently she had not. Except for a rer >’ natural solicitude a 3 to her mistress’s health the maid’s attitude was Perfectly normal. She sighed w T ith re ljef, and then she spoke. . "Tindall, how is aunt this, morning?’ "About the same, Miss Jocelyn. *bss Ambrose had a restful night, but she is grieved to learn that you have been unwell, and has | l yen instructions that when Dr. j-jdgar comes he is to see you also. Ambrose says you need a tonic, •Miss Pocelyn.” "Rubbish.” said Jocelyn with some energy. “Tell her Ido not need the hoctor, that except for a little tiredhess lam quite fit. I shall see her doctor’s visit.” *es, Miss Jocelyn.” The maid turned to go, and then, as , a fancy had just occurred to her, er mistress vailed out to her.

“Tindall, you might bring me the morning paper.” “Yes, Miss Jocelyn, and will you have the Special too?”

“Special?” asked the girl, scarcely able to keep her lips from trembling. “Yes, miss. There’s been an awful and mysterious murder in Carlow Gardens, a gentleman thrashed and shot. He was found this morning by his man-servant, and as yet the police haven't a clue, though, of course, as usual they’re hunting hard for one.”

“Yes, bring the Special also. A mysterious murder sounds interesting.” “It is interesting. Miss Jocelyn, very interesting, particularly as the papers have been so dull this last week or two.”

Tindall departed, and Jocelyn Ambrose fell hack on her pillow. The thing was known then, and the police were hunting for a clue. She wondered if they would ever learn that she herself had been at No. 7 Carlow Gardens, or that her brother Pat had gone .there to keep an appointment within a very short time of the murder. Then a thought came to her, a thought that made her face pale with apprehension. The chauffeur! He would read the news, he would remember that he had called twice at No. 7 on the previous night. Perhaps he would go to the police. She was much disturbed by this possibility, but kept herself in hand, so that when Tindall returned with the papers, the maid noticed nothing unusual in her demeanour. “Put them there on the bed, Tindall,’ she said, as she lifted the teacup to her lips, “and come back in 20 minutes’ time.” “Yes, miss.” “And just tell James that I shall want to see him before long. Tell him that except by Miss Ambrose's orders, he is not to go anywhere without first seeing me. You understand?’ “Yes, Miss Jocelyn.” She waited until the door closed behind the maid, then she sat up. and hastily unfolded the “Special,” looking for the item of news which was the occasion of its issue. She had no difficulty in finding it, for it was announced in one of the staring Leadlines so beloved by the sensational Press “MYSTERIOUS MURDER IN LONDON.” Hurriedly she began to read. “Early this morning a murder of a