The Mystery of Ryebum Manor

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 895, 12 February 1930, Page 5

The Mystery of Ryebum Manor

By

JOHN LAURENCE

Author of "The Sign of the Double Cross Inn,” etc.

CHAPTER 11. (Continued) “Mr. Seymour Hicks was in a play which was rather blood-curdling,” replied Jennings, washing his hands with invisible soap. "He murdered a man offstage, so to speak, and was having a little coloquee about it.” “There's been a murder next door, Jennings." The man-servant’s heavy eyebrows elevated themselves, and the invisible soap was used with great vigour. “Murder next door, sir?” he repeated. “I said murder next door, Jennings. T wish the dickens you'd wash your hands and get the job over. Scotland Yard will be here shortly. Have a few sandwiches handy and coffee before you go nosing round.” “Very good, sir.” “It he weren't so confoundedly useful, I think J'd sack him,” ruminated Harding. “That habit of washing his hands will drive me to murder him some day.” He paid no further attention tp Jennings. He had something much more important to think about as he drew up his chair before the fire and Poked the latter into a cheerful blaze. “Now, old son," he reflected, filling his pipe; “you’ve got to make up your mind what to do. and make it up quickly. Either that girl's a murderess or she's not. If she is, you’ve got to tell this Vidler person all about her If s h e j s no t, you can keep your mouth shut in the hopes of running across her and hearing her story.” "Bashed on the head with a poker, •hat was what the sergeant said, little Blue Eyes wouldn't have the strength to do that.”

He got up and looked out of the window. Already a crowd had gathered from nowhere, as it were, in that mysterious way crowds do gather iu London on the slightest provocation. They were gaping up at the house uext door as though they could see “tough the very walls and watch the movements of the police. Looks as though Scotland Yard has arrived,” said Harding to himself, tjough I didn't know they used the most expensive straight-eight limousines. That’s what they mean by the flying squad, I suppose.” He turned away and stared into the Are. His subconscious emotional mind

was made up as to his course of action, though his reasoning powers were still fighting against the decision he had come to. “Darn it, I can’t hear her get into the hands of the Yard,” he growled. “They’ll frighten her stone cold. Supposing she’s got no friends? It’s all bunk to accuse her of murder, or burglary, or anything.” As no one had yet done so, Robert Harding’s protest was a little premature, but it showed very clearly iu which direction his sympathies lay. If Inspector David Vidler had arrived with the sergeant, tfiere is little doubt he would have learnt all about the encounter on the roof. As it was, when he did appear just before midnight, Harding had worked himself up so much as to the possibilities of little Blue Eyes being hanged by the neck until she was dead that wild horses would not have dragged any admission from him. “Sorry to trouble you, Mr. Harding, so late, but murder is a serious business.” Harding sized up the man before him very carefully as Jennings brought in a tray of coffee and sandwiches. He saw a pleasant-faced, well-dressed man about town. The face seemed vaguely familiar, though he could not place it.- Rather to liis astonishment, the inspector was in full evening dress. That seemed incongruous, with Harding’s ideas of Scotland Yard. He expected to see heavy regulation boots in place of the perfect shining patentleather shoes. The inspector shook his head in reply to the offer of a cocktail. “I’ve just come from a regimental reunion,” he explained. “Coffee, yes. Just happened to call in at the Yard, and heard about this affair next door.” “I saw you had had your whack at Jerry,” remarked Harding, looking at the row of medals on the inspector’s lapel. “I hacl four years in the air.” The inspector rubbed the corner of his right eve with his forefinger. It was a trick of his with which the other was to become well acquainted —a trick which showed he was thinking deeply.

THE FATAL QUESTION 7 . “Are you by any chance the Major Robert Harding who brought down the Zep over Brussels in ’15?” Harding acknowledged the challenge, and the inspector chuckled softly. “Onlv son of Sir John Harding, educated Dulwich anrd Trinity, Cambridge,” be quoted from '’Who's Who.” “Sub-Lieutenant. Royal Naval Air Service, 1914: lieutenant, 1915; captain, Royal Air Force, 1917; major. 1918. Brought down one Zeppelin and 42 enemy machines. D. 5.0., D.F.C., Croix de Guerre —” “Stow it!” growled Harding, flushing. “I want to forget the war in the all “ That’s why you still have your own airplane and tour the country in it,” said the inspector. Robert Harding grinned at the shrewd thrust. “The roads are getting uncomfortable. Haven’t I seen you before? Your face seems familiar.” The inspector’s forefinger rubbed bis eye, as though to get a clearer vision. , . _ “You were acting as second to Bainett, of Trinity, when I knocked him out,” lie said, gravely. "Good Lord, you re D.V., God-wib-in” Vidler!” exclaimed Harding. i didn’t expect you to become a—to go to Scotland Yard.”

PQliceman hardly seemed the word to use where David Vidler was concerned. It all came back to Harding —the inter-varsity boxing championships, the heavy weights, Billy Barnett, of Trinity, versus David Vidler, of Brasenose. Never, as long as lig lived, Harding reflected, would he forget that final punch of “D.V.’s,” that battering-ram smashing blow on Barnett’s chin, which lifted his fifteen stone clean off the boards and sent him a helpless, unconscious, sagging wreck doubled over the ropes. “Yes. I became a common copper in the street,” said Vidler. “I hope my feet don’t betray me.” “I thought you’d got money?” “No reason why I shouldn’t do a job of work, eh? It doesn’t prevent you from acting as Britain’s air ambassador and advertiser, does it? I should think with your propaganda work-you must have put a good many thousands into the pockets of British airplane manufacturers. That light airplane stunt of yours across Europe and Russia to Peking, for instance.” “Don’t get me talking shop or you’ll stop here all night,” protested Harding good-humouredly. “Have a cigar. I can recommetid them.” He was beginning to understand now why David Vidler had risen so quickly. He vaguely remembered after that fight with Billy Barnett someone telling him that Vidler was one of those unusual products of the varsity; a first-class athlete and a first-class honours man in science. Harding felt that the sooner the other came down to asking questions the better, for the sooner would his own ordeal be over. 'He would put the direct question. “WhaJ about this murder next door? Who is it?” “Do you know them at ail?” asked Vidler. “Don’t even know who lives there,” replied Harding. “A man named Lee and his wife. He’s in the export trade. Got plenty of money and a house called Ryeburn Manor in the country between Winchelsea and Hastings. He’s down there now, apparently. The murdered man’s one of the under servants. Did you see anybody suspicious tonight?” The fatal question had come, and Harding braced himself to meet it. He turned and looked into the fire as he replied, for he had not learned to face people, look squarely into their eyes, and lie easily. CROSS-EXAMINATION “No, I'm afraid I haven't seen any suspicious characters,” Harding said laconically. “I was sitting here reading when that infernal bell went off. My man had gone to the Coliseum for the evening, so I went down aud had a chat with a policeman.” “I’ve heard what happened afterwards.” said Vidler. “There are one or two points to clear up. Was your trapdoor unfastened .when you went up?” “No.” “What about the door in the other roof? Did you try that?” “No. It appeared to me to be open. I didn’t go up to it. I walked to the parapet and looked over and then came back. I went down aud told the constable, and he came up and went through.” “D.V.’s” finger went up to his eye. “You looked over the parapet and came straight back. The gutter’s quite wide.” For some reason Harding thought of that moment when he had moved to the left and crouched down behind the slope of the roof as he had watched the door of the other house opening. The thought made him feel uneasy. He stole a glance at the detective, who, however, appeared to be looking into the fire as though lost in thought. (To be continued tomorrow)