The Jewels Sin

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 722, 23 July 1929, Page 5

The Jewels Sin

By

Bernard Rowthorne.

Author of "The Claw: of the Dragon," dtc.. drc.’

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS CHAPTERS 1 AND II. —Gerald Mallinson steps out of his taxi at Waterloo Station in a dense fog-. He asks the chauffeur to wait. A girl jumps out of a taxi which had nearly collided with his. Her taxi drives off. She carries a brown-leather despatch case and a silk vanity bag. A man snatches at her case and bag. Gerald Mallinson leaps, his fist shoots out. He sends the man sprawling, the case and bag falling into the road. The man recovers, and makes off with the bag, while Gerald picks up the case, which feels empty. The girl says the thief has taken the least valuable thing. She has come to meet someone by the boat train. Gerald tells her he is an author, that his hero is meeting the boat train, and forthwith plunges into the most exciting adventures. As the boat train comes in the girl moves to the barrier. Eater he sees her there again. Two other faces attract his attention —a well-dressed negro, and his companion, apparently a Dutchman. A tall, handsome young woman passes the ticket collector. She signals to the black man and his companion. The black says: “He comes!” A man wearing il Stetson hat comes through, carrying a despatch case. Catching sight of the girl he makes for her. When the crowd moves on the girl Is no longer there. The black man and Dutchman follow the man wearing the Stetson. The three enter the refreshment room. Mallison moves gingerly through the fog to his taxi. Again the girl breaks in upon him. She is stranded. There is no taxi except Mallinson’s, and she has to get to Bagnall Street, Bermondsey, in record time. The young man offers to take her. Zita Barrymore steps into his taxi. She acknowledges that the man in the Stetson hat is her brother. He and she exchanged despatch cases. The taxi draw’s tip. Mallison asks Tompkins what is wrong. They are lost. A voice out of the fog offers to guide them to Bagnall Street for a consideration. The girl wants No. 7. Tho man recognises it as old Peter Rogers's house. Thev arrive at last. CHAPTERS 111 AND TV.— The stranger receives his reward and disappears. Zita Barrymore tells Gerald Mallinson site expects to find her brother, and goes into the house. Mr. Mallinson waits in the taxi for her. He hears ;> shrill scream, and leaps to his feet. With a word to the chauffeur to remain he goes.to the house. While feeling for the gate someone slips by him. He calls out, “Miss Barrymore!” She disappears in the fog. . He enters the house, and passes to a roo mbehind. on the left. It is a dining-room. Food is on the table. Retracing his steps, he opens the door of a front room. It is in great disorder. There has been a scuffle. A Stetson hat lies on the hearthrug. From it Mallinson argues that Barrvmore has been here. Going round the table he sees the body of a man lying on the further side of it. He is Quite dead. CHAPTEL IV (Continued) “Great heavens:'' The words were torn from him by The discovery, and as he stood there staring at that prone figure, he was assailed by an overwhelming conviction that the man was dead. As he stared a great silence seemed to fall

upon the room. The ticking of the‘ clock on the mantelpiece was-thel only sound, and to his senses, now grown suddenly acute, came a consciousness of a faint acrid odour, which seemed to pervade the room. Becoming aware of it, he snifit'ed thoughtfully, trying to identify it, and suddenly the recognition came to him. “Burnt powder!” he ejaculated in a whisper. , W'ith dawning horror in his eyes, he! continued to stare at that silent figurel lying there in the shadow of the table: then summoning all his resolution he took a couple of steps forward. The man was lying on his side, back toward him. and as Mallinson moved to a position where he could get a glimpse of his face, the conviction that the man was dead hecame a certainty. No man merely unconscious or sleeping ever looked like that. Stooping he gazed at. the man more closely. and then saw a dark stain on the light grey suit in which the body was dressed. Iti spread half-way over the breast, and

showed redly on the soft white shirt where the vest was cut away. “Blood!” he whispered, and stooped lower, and a moment later added in the same awed whisper, “Shot through the heart.” He straightened himself and stood looking down on the prone lump of clay which but a short time before had been a. living, breathing man; and as he looked at the grey face he found himself wondering as to who the man might be. Protruding from the man‘s inner pocket he caught sight of some papers, and moved by curiosity he stooped and drew them forth. One of them was a letter, and a. single glance told him all that he required to know. “So this is Peter Rogers,” he whispered, dropping the papers. He looked once more round the ‘wrecked room, then a sudden sense of his position came upon him. If some one were to enter the house and find him there in that disordered room with the murdered man, he would be in an awkward corner. He would, at any rate, have some difliculty in ex—plaining his presence convincingly, and probably much undesirable notoriety would come to him. Following that unfailing instinct of man which makes for self-preservation, he backed toward the door. Reaching it, he considered for a second and then swiched off the three lights Vxhich he had turned on, leaving only the shaded lamp upon the table. Closing the (1001‘ of the room behind him he crept from the house of tragedy. Outside the fog seemed denser than even and a yard from the door enveloped him completely. He groped for the railings which

bordered the path from the gate on one side, found them, and as he did so almost stumbled over something which lay in his way. Whatever it was, the thing was fairly heavy, and he stooped to feel for it with his hand. As he did so, he encountered a. leather handle, which he promptly gripped, and lifting the thing up, felt it with the other hand. “A despach case—and not empty by the weight of it!” Telling himself this, he resumed his journey toward the gate, carrying the case with him. He passed through without difficulty. but once on the side path was at fault, and to reassure himself of the direction of the taxi he called out softly: “Are you there, Tompkins?” “Yes, sir!” came the reply. “All right, I’m coming! You can start the engine.” Then most unexpectedly he caught a sound which brought him to a. halt, the soft, dead sound of rubber—soled shoes on asphalt. He listened. There it was again, and he divined that there was someone plose beside him. someone Whom he could not see, but who must be conscious of his presence, though the unseen one made no attempt to reveal himself. “Hullo!” he said sharply. “Yes, sir,” answered Tompkins’s voice, and the same moment he caught the purr of the restarted engine. “All right, Tompkins, I wasn’t speaking to——” He broke off abruptly as 'a powerful ‘ flashlight illumined the darkness within two yards of him. W'ho held it he could not see, but the light seemed to play over him, and finally to settle on the despatch case which he carried in his left hand. “Hallo! You with the light; what.—” As suddenly as it had flamed the. light was extinguished, and he caught ‘ the plan]: of a padded footstep on the wet side-walk. The man had made no 1 answer to his greeting, and his in-‘ tentions could not be friendly. The‘ sound of the quick footstep warned! him. and a second later there was at rush towards him. But in the interval, , brief as it was. he had changed the; case into his right hand. and his left} shot out into the darkness to meet} the aggressor. It was a blind blow,l but a true one, and Mallinson felt hisi fist crash against a pendulous under—‘ lip, and his knuckles strike a mouthful of teeth. The unseenattacker was brought up short. A guttural curse sounded through the fog, and then before he Could move, Mallinson caught a swish, and something missed his head by an ace. and struck his left Shoulder with a force that made him reel. But he did not stop to retaliate. The taxi seemed at that moment to be a very desirable refuge. Following the sound of the purring engine, he plunged through the fog, found the vehicle with the door standing open just as he had left it, and, flinging himself in he shouted to the driver: 3 “Quick. Tompkins! Like the deuce." ‘ “Yes. sir." came Tompkins’s imperIturbable voice, infinitely reassuring lin. the midst of the mystery which the E fog held. He grabbed for the door and was 'just pulling it to when Tompkins‘s voice sounded again: i “Hallo, there! “'hat the blazes—INO, you don't. Take that, you black I garrotter.” " There were the sounds of a blow. I of an oath, and of a man falling, then

the taxi moved forward, bumped over’ something, and a man’s voice sounded . hoarsely in sudden pain. 1 That the taxi had run over some—t one seemed clear and Tompkins could 1_ scarcely have been ignorant of the? fact. But he did not pull up. In} stead he moved forward in the fog at a rate that was highly dangerous,‘ sounding his horn to warn anything. in front of him. So. till he took the) first turning that offered. when he; slowed down a little and moved along] more cautiously until another couple of turns brought him into a wideri road, which resolved itself into Tooley ‘ Street. 3 Outside London Bridge station'i Tompkins pulled up, and. descending from his seat. opened the door. “YVhere would you like to go. Mr. Mallinson?” he:asked in a husky whisper. ‘ “Home," answered the novelist truthfully, then he leaned forward and looked at the driver's face, Here the fog seemed a little less dense, and the light from the station lamps made it possible to see that Tompkins’s usually stolid face wore a worried look. ”Tompkins.” he whispered, “did you run over that man?" “Felt like it. sir," the driver whispered back; “but ‘twasn't my fault. Mr. Mallinson. The machine was

just starting when that black swine made a grab at me.” “He was a black man? How do you know, Tompkins?” _ “Saw him plain, sir. A big, ugly black beggar he was. an’ when I hit him. in self-defence. you know, sir. he went down and rolled under the taxi, and we bumped over him. It’ll be a! case of manslaughter as like as not! lif the police get hold of the l I facts—" ' , 1 “They won’t—if you hold yourl tongue, Tompkins, and, believe me,| {unless you want to find your namel [in the newspapers a good deal in the! inext few days, it is very desirable §thrtt you should say nothing to any-‘ gone of tonight's adventures." i ‘» “There was something wrong at‘ that house, Mr. )lallison?" { “There was murder, or I am mistakent” 1 “Murder? Phew! That girl——" i a “No, not the girl. A man—the inn ihabitant of the house. I fancy." 3 For a moment Tompkins stared at‘ ibis fare. “Are you going to send‘ iword to the police, Mr. Mal——" E “By Jove, I hadn’t thought of that, :Tompkins. But it does seem to be .desirable. \\'ait here for a moment. ‘There will be a telephone-box in the ": station It I ring up Scotland Yard : from here they will not be able to gtraco either me or you; and as we ‘ don’t know anything about the tragedy zit won't matter if we do not appear. .l've no desire to waste days answer- ] ing subpoenas to attend the Coroner’s , Court." ‘. "Nor me. sir. Dead off that sort lot thing, I am." 1 “Then wait. I'll be back in three {minutes or so.” Leaving the cab he entered the station and inside five minutes returned.

El‘here was a reflective smile upon his ace. “Now get to Taristock Square as quick as you can. VVe’ve set up New Scotland Yard with a first-class mystery, and the sooner we're away from this part of the world the better." “Yes, sir." Mallinson reentered the taxi. and as it started forward, settled himselt in a. corner to make himself comfortable, and as he did so his hand encountered the dispatch case which he had picked up outside No. 7, Bagnall Street. (To be continued daily.) .