The Shadow Crook

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 588, 14 February 1929, Page 5

The Shadow Crook

By Aidan de Brune (Author of * ‘Dr Night, ’ * “The Carson Loan Mystery, ' ’ “ The Dagger and the Cord,,” etc.) (COPYRIGHT.) ■

CHAPTER XV’lll.—Continued He was certain that the figure before liini was Abel Mintos. He had never met the man, but could not fail to recognise him by the description he had received. What was the Jew doing in the streets at that hour ot' the night? He was supposed to be an invalid, confined to his room through a brutal attack by the Shadow Crook. The man walked to the tram-shelter and entered. Mason hung back. He dared not go too close to the Jew. He turned and walked in the direction of the city. With a little luck be should be able to get. to the next tram-stop before the vehicle arrived. He had barely reached his objective when the tram hove in sight. Mason hailed it and mounted to one of the rear compartments. He could see the Jew close to the front of the car. He watched him, cautiously. Where was the man going? At College Street Mintos alighted Instead of turning toward Ray Hill Court he continued down Park Street and up the steps on to the Park. Here he cut across to Market Street and down to George Street. There he crossed the road and waited for a tram going in the direction of CireulaQuay. Mason watched the tram bearing Mintos move slowly down the street. Where was the man going? If his objective was the Carew Lane shop then he was due for a surprise. The shop was in the hands of the police and Mason had given strict orders that a man remained on duty night and day. The inspector allowed the tram to get well down toward the General Post Office, then hailed a cruising taxi and ordered the driver to make all speed to Carew Lane. He had time, on arriving in Carew Lane, to warn the constable on duty of the expected visitor. Mason did not remain in the shop, but moved down the street to a narrow passage from where he could watch the entrance of the lane. He was beginning to believe he had been mistaken and that. Mintos did not intend to visit Stacey Carr’s shop when the short, stout figure of the Jew loomed around the cornet from George Street;. The man kept on the opposite side of the lane from the shop, walking slowly down toward Hamilton Street. Opposite the jeweller<s shop he paused and leaned against the wall. Two tall figures came sharply intc view at the George Street corner. They paused and exchanged a few words, in an undertone. One of the men drew back, the other walked sharply down the lane. Mason recognised. with surprise, tjjat the advancing man was a uniformed constable. He came out of his shelter and walked slowly up to where the Jew leaned against the wall. The two men were arguing loudly when the inspector came within earshot. “What's the matter?” Mason asked in sharp, official tones. “What’s this man done?” “Loitering, with intent, I think.” The constable spoke after a quick glance of recognition at the inspector. “There’s a gentleman at the. corner who says he's been watching this man for some time and that he’s been acting suspicious-like.” "That so?” Mason turned to the

Jew, “What’s your game? Wliat do you want down here at this time of night?” “My name is Mintos—Abel Mintos." The Jew spoke excitedly. “I was restless and could not sleep, so 1 came out for a walk . . . J . . .” “Where do you live?” The conI stable asked the question. “At Ray Hill Court.” Mintos spoke with more assurance. “If you will | ring up the caretaker he will answer for me.”

“So you came out of Ray Hill Court lo walk down her©?’ The patrolman continued the inquisition as the inspector had drawn back a pace. “Funny thing to do. Not much fresh air dow n here. What made you come down this* lane?” “I saw the name—Carew Lane —at the corner and remembered the murder. I thought I should like to have a look at the shop.” “So you came down from Ray Hill Court, at this time of night, to have a look at a shop where a murder took place.” The coystable laughed. ‘Rather thin, isn’t that?” “Ever been here before?” The inspector interposed, suddenly. [ “No. Why should I?” I “You say your name’s Mintos?” Mason was thinking rapidly. He had long harboured suspicions, of the Jew and his actioAs that night were decidedly suspicious. “There was a Mintos, who had dealings with the man, Stacey Carr, who occupied this shop years ago.” “That is the shop?” Mintos spoke with assumed astonishment. . “Then, I yes, 1 have been here before. I had forgotten the place—and the association.” “Had you?” The man’s story was too thin and Mason had made up his mind. "Strange you should have remembered the murder and forgotten the shop. Especially when the newspapers featured the place as being the scene of the Stacey Carr jewel robbery. There was the matter of a few thousand pounds’ worth of pearls you lost in that, wasn’t there? What do you think of his story, constable?” “Mighty suspicious!”. The patrolman laid a heavy hand on the Jew’s shoulder. “You’d better come with me until I get your story verified.” Mintos tried to wriggle from under the man’s clasp, but the constable held firmly. In a few seconds he was being frog-marched up the lane to George Street. “Where are you taking him, constable?” Mason asked. He was not j too well acquainted with the police i boundaries at this end of the town. “George Street North’s my place.” i The constable had now linked arms | in Mintos’s. “Ah, here’s the gentleman who put me on to our friend.” Mason looked round to meet the quizzical eyes of Alec Branston. He had his finger to his lips; a warning to silence. “Saw you watching the Jew,” the newspaper man spoke in a low voice as they lagged behind the constable | and his captive. “Jumped your tram I at King’s Cross and saw you watch- ‘ iug him. Thought. I’d give you a hand. Besides, I'll be giving the | little woman at Rose Bay a hand at i the same time. The brute’s always pestering her. Wonder what Stan Etheringham will say, when his great pal, Abel Mintos, is placed in the dock under the ‘Vag’ Act?” “Here?”, the inspector turned suddenly to face the journalist. “How the devil do you know all this?” ’ “Easy.’’ Branston grinned. “Stan Etheringham and his wife are by way of being friends of mine. 1 met Mrs. Etheringham in town to-day and she told me Mintos had placed himself, as an interesting invalid, in her house. You can guess what I thought, when I saw him strolling through the | city a few paces ahead of you. ’Sides. | Mason, I’m still on the track of the i Shadow Crook. Five to one, in notes, i j I have first talk with him—between ' you and I? Taken, eh?” j Abel Mintos appeared the next ,

: morning, in the dock at the Central Police Court to answer a charge of loitering with felonious intent. To his surprise, and against the earnest, appeal of his solicitor for bail, the magistrate granted the police application for a remand for seven days, in custody. CHAPTER XIX. An air of tension Hung over the court during the brief proceedings. A number of uniformed men lounged into the body of the court when the case was called and lined the walls. The magistrate looked graver than usual and keenly watched the defending solicitor nervously turning over the pages of law books on the solicitor’s table. “What the hell’s up?” Etheringham, who had come down to the court on hearing of the charge against Mintos, asked the question of his solicitor when, outside the court, they halted

— on the top of the long flight of steps j leading down to Liverpool Street. “There’s something behind this.” ! Montague Mostyn, a short, slight i man with a large bulbous nose, i blinked up at his client from behind I powerful spectacles. “If you will j wait for a few moments, my dear sir. I will have a word with Mr. George Cohen and see what I can learn.” He trotted off, leaving the squatter standing amid a crowd of loungers and defendants. Etheringham looked around him with disgust. He had heard, and read, of the crowd that assembled at the Central Police Court daily. Prostitutes, petty thieves, breakers of the innumerable by-laws accumulated by generations of law-makers and city aldermen. He walked down a few steps to purer air. That morning he had been awakened by the news that the Jew was missing from his room. Immediately he had organised a search of the

house and grounds. The thought had come to his mind that the Shadow Crook had returned to the house during the night to complete the murder he had commenced on the stairs two days before. He had found no traces of the Jew. Almost he had decided to organise a Party to drag the harbour, before the “Avonlea” grounds. The Shadow Crook had become an obsession with him. He had believed the man capable of anything. Then had come the telephone message, that Mintos was in the hands of the police and would be brought before the court that morning. “Rather serious.” Mostyn had returned to his client’s side, unnoticed by him. “Cohen thinks the police have some bigger charge in view and are only holding him on the ‘loitering’ chai-ge.” “What’s that? The ‘Vag’ Act?” Etheringham turned impatiently on the little man. “But Abel Mintos is one of the best-known business men in Sydney. The thing’s impossible! Are the police mad?” “Mr. Etheringham ?” Inspector Mason, passing down the steps from the courthouse, stopped and turned. “Vou have come here regarding the Abel Mintos affair ’Fraid it’s going to he serious.”

“Inspector Mason!” Mostyn stood on tip-toe to whisper the name in the squatter’s ear.

“You know the case, Inspector? ” Etheringham faced the officer, angrily. “Can you tell me what the police are about? Mintos is a friend of mine.”

“I’m sorry for that, Mr. Etheringham,” Mason spoke quietly. “I was on duty last night and happened to be round Rose Bay way. I saw someone climb out of a window in your" house, and recognised Mr. Mintos, or rather recognised him by a description X held. I followed him and saw a constable arrest him in Carew Lane. I’m sorry to say Mr. Mintos deliberately lied in his answers to the constable’s questions.” “Lied?” For a moment passion choked the squatter. “Lied . . “More than that.” A ghost of a smile played round the firm lips of the police officer. “I have reason to believe the Crown Law Department will intervene before the next hearing of the charge. Mr. Mintos’s flat is now in the possession of the police and Crown Law officers are examining his papers. There is grave suspicion of fraudulent business dealings. At present, Mintos is held for ‘loitering.’ That means he will be confined without bail until we can state definitely the more serious charges against, him.”

The inspector bowed slightly, and ran down the steps. Mostyn caught at his client’s arm to lead him down to where the Etheringham car waited, but the squatter resisted. He was furiously angry and annoyed. Angry with the police for the action they had taken against a man he had honoured with his friendship; annoyed at Mintos’s queer actions that had landed him in the grip of the law. Again he was worried by the telephone message he had received that morning, telling him that Abel Mintos was to be charged at the Central Police Court. He had thought the message had come from Mintos, through the police. On arriving at the Court he had instructed Mostyn to make inquiries, to be informed that neither Mintos nor the police had originated the message. Etheringham had offered hail to any amount. Mostyn had made the offer to the prosecuting sergeant, confident the police would be willing to accept any way out of the mistake they must by this time realise they had made. To his astonishment he had been

curtly informed bail was out of tlie question. He was permitted a sight of the charge sheet. A few whispered words warned him that much graver charges lay behind the present seemingly inconsequent proceedings. Slowly the belief that Mintos had deceived him penetrated the egotism in which the squatter had long enveloped himself. In spite of his selfoptimism he had a great regard for the law, especially regarding the minor points of life. His belief in the infallibility of the police was absolute. Once the first edge of his temper -was dulled he recognised the police would not hold a man in custody on a minor charge without just cause. He had been intimate with Abel Mintos for many months; in spite of his wife's open dislike of the man. He had had business dealings with him, some of them rather risky; and had made money. Rapidly he reviewed his later dealings with the Jew, and his face blanched. Had Mintos led him into a position where there was a likelihood of his being implicated in the frauds more than hinted at by the inspector? Again, there was the . . . He came to action suddenly, and clutched the arm of the little solicitor, almost dragging him down the steps and into the waiting car. “Mostyn.” he muttered. "We've got to get to your offices and talk this out. I ... I don’t quite know where T stand. I’ve been friendly with Mintos. I’ve been in business deals with him. There’s a company . .

“Mintos? Business?” The little solicitor shifted round on the seat and looked at his client, in amazement. “Lord. Etheringham! Haven’t you enough money without playing with

fire with scats like that damned Jew?” “There’s one company . . .” The squatter liad his head down in his hand, speaking in a muffled whisper. “Northern Territory mining. Mintos floated it and put me in as a director. I’ve had a big block of shares in it. I’ve sold my shares to my friends. They took it on my word. . . . I . . . I . . .” “Took up shares in the company?” Mostyn asked the question, abruptly. “Well, that’s not so bad. “We’ll see “No. They bought the shares from me at a premium. I’ve taken up tliouhands of shares as I wanted them and sold them. Mintos gave me the market quotations from time to time and l sold on that.” “You mean to say Mintos reserved I a big block of shares for you to take up as you could dispose of them. You sold them at a premium and pocketed the differences. You sold your friends, the men and women who trusted you. Suppose you paid Mintos for the shares? Yes. Thought so. What’s the company?” “The Northern Territory Development Gold Mining Co,” the squatter answered dully. “Isn’t such a company on the Stock Exchange,” Mostyn spoke tersely. “So that’s how the brute lived and made a splash! And you did the dirty work for him. Oh, you fool! You damned j fool' ” “Norma never liked nor trusted him,” the squatter continued dully. “She wanted me to cut him. She was furious when he got that knock from the Shadow Crook and I asked him to stay on in the house. She . . “Norma Etheriugham’s a wise

woman,” the solicitor grunted, and blew his nose vigorously. “You’ve made a hell of a mess of things, Etheringham, but I’ll have to get you out of it, somehow. Best thing is to have counsel’s opinion at once. I*ll get you out, by hook or crook—more likely crook, from what I can see of it. Everything depends on what that blighter says when charged. He'll try and blame it on you, that’s certain.” Mostyn laughed bitterly as he stepped out of the car before iis ofhces in Hunter Street. Etheringham left him for a moment to give instructions to his chauffeur. At _hat moment Mostyn saw Inspector Mason walking up the street, toward police headquarters. Immediately he went to meet the police officer. “Look here, Mason, I want a word with you on the quiet.” The little solicitor glanced up to catch the quizzical smile on the inspector’s face. “Good Lor’! You know?” “Can guess.” Mason laughed. “You’re frightened your squatter client will be drawn into this Abel Mintos affair? Well, don’t guess; be sure.” (To be Continued)