The Mystery of Ryeburn Manor

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 902, 20 February 1930, Page 5

The Mystery of Ryeburn Manor

By

JOHN LAURENCE

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

CHAPTER X. (Continued.) THE SAFE Lee glanced at him from out of the corner of his eye as he lighted a cigar. “Putting it rather crudely, aren't you?” he said, blowing out a great cloud of smoke. “I thought for a moment you were accusing me of murdering the poor devil.” “I’m not likely to accuse anybody,' returned Harding. “1 heard from Vidler last night that nothing had been taken.” “That’s so. I brought everything down here. Got them in the safe there.” He waved his hand toward one of the bookcases. “As you are a detective I can tell you the secret, Harding. Put it in myself. Only the wife knows.” “The wife” was typical of the man, reflected Harding, as he crossed the room with Lee. "This part swings back. The spring’s hidden behind the eighth volume of Gibbon. Sounds to me like the name of a monkey. Fancy writing a book in 15 volumes. This is the. middle one. Seven each side of it. They balance one another. If you took out any other volume you couldn’t swing back the shelf. It automatically locks if It’s not exactly balanced.” He rattled on like a schoolboy showing off some new mechanical toy, the secret of which he had just discovered. “There’s only one key and I’ve got it,” he continued. “Keep it on a special ring by itself. The only thing which will interest you will be the pearls. Know anything about them?” “Nothing,” admitted Harding, as the small safe door swung back. He noticed that it had no combination, unlike the one in West Kensington. “Nor do I,” said Lee. “They look all alike to me. Useful things if you want to raise a bit of money.” “Each pearl must be worth a hundred or so,” said Harding. “Have you counted them lately? A thief might take one or two pearls, thinking they’d never be missed from a string like this.” “That’s an idea,” agreed Lee. He undid the clasp and laid the necklace on the table. His fat fingers went rapidly from one end of the string to the other. “O.K. You gave me a fright for a moment. Hallo! Why the hell don't you knock before you come in?” Harding turned quickly. So absorbed had he been watching the other count the pearls that he had not heard the door open. “Sorry, my dear, thought it was one of the servants.” Lee's tone changed suddenly, as Sheila Sunderland looked at him with an expressionless face, as though she had not heard that "My dear.” She Inclined her head at Harding’s “Good morning.” “I am sorry, Mr. Lee. 1 did not know you had anyone with you,” she said. Harding saw that her accusing eyes were fixed on the necklace on the table, and he began to be ashamed of himself for the suspicion which had crossed his mind, which he had got Lee to verify. He wished Sheila Sunderland had appeared at any moment but that one. CHAPTER XT. 'Don't go, Miss Sunderland,” said Lee. "We've just been counting these pearls. Harding had an idea one of them might have been pinched.” “Are they; all there?” she asked.

“Yes.” “What gave you the idea, Mr. Harding?” she asked. Her blue eyes challenged his, and he thought he detected a slight smile of amusement on her face. It was he who was embarrassed, not she, though the very reverse should have been the case. It was Lee who answered the question and saved him. “Mr. Harding’s a friend of Vidler's, and gets his ideas from Scotland Yard.” he said jestingly. “What did, you come up here for?” “Mrs. Lee wanted to know if you were going up to London this afternoon.” “Maybe, maybe not,” replied Leo curtly. “And if I do I’m not going to do her shopping. Let her go in to Hastings for it.” ( Harding was beginning to understand what Sheila Sundeniand had meant when she had said she would rather go to the police with her story than to Lee, and he shrugged his shoulders In sympathy. “I’ll join you in the morning room in a minute, Harding,” continued Lee, picking up the necklace and putting it back in its case. “I’ve got a letter, to write that I’d forgotten.” Sheila Sunderland had her back turned, and Lee winked broadly and pointed to the closed bookcase. It was a hint that he wanted her very definitely out of the way while he returned the pearls to the hidden safe. Harding followed the girl on' to the landing. She walked down the stairs with her chin in the air. He had obviously hurt her deeply. Outside the door of the morning room she turned on him. Her eyes were burning, her lips curled in scorn. “You coward!” she whispered. “You unutterable coward!” She did not wait for him to speak, but turned on her heels and left him staring after her with set lips. HARDING BEGINS HIS INQUIRIES Robert., Harding w'alked slowly down the staircase, and made his way out into the gardens of Ryeburn Manor. He felt angry with the girl who had looked at him with such unutterable scorn in her blue eyes and had called hint-a cow-ard, an unutterable coward. Although he tried to put the feelingaside he had the knowTedge that Sheila Sunderland was justified in the taunt she had flung at him in her anger. The knowledge hurt him deeply. He had never been called a coward by any woman, and the sensation was not a pleasant one. He felt that he had been put in a false position. On the other hand he had told her that she wanted to help, had risked a considerable amount for her already, while on the other hand she had caught him playing the part of a spy. By his action in asking Lee to count the pearls she now knew htat he did not believe the story she had told him, that he suspected she had stolen one of the pearls, the one he had now got in his pocket. “Blow D.V.,’ r he muttered angrily to himself. “It doesn’t matter a hang to him what happens so long as he gets his victim. Why the dickens doesn’t she tell me her story and let me straighten things out?” He felt thoroughly uncomfortable in his own mind. If it had not been that he was sure that Sheila would sooner or later want all the help he could give her Harding would have gone back to London and told Vidler to make his own investigations. He paced up an down the close-trimmed lawn until the sound of the luncheon gong warned him that he had got to

face the situation in which he found himself—willy-nilly. To his surprise and relief Sheila greeted him in a perfectly friendly and composed way. She sat next to him at the luncheon table, on his left. On his right was Mrs. Lee, and opposite them sat Lee and Thornton. “Make yourself pleasant to the ladies, Harding,” said Lee, “I’ve got one or two important things to settle with Thornton.” “I am sure you can be very pleasant, Mr. Harding, If you like,” said Sheila. “I hope I am nevery anything else, Miss Sunderland,” he answered quickly. “Oh, I can Imagine you being very unpleasant if you didn’t get your own way,” she flashed back. “Don’t say such dreadful things, Sheila,” interposed Mrs. Lee. “Mr. Harding will think you mean them.” “Mr. Hyjing knows how much I mean,” sjild Sheila. Harding caught the eye of Thornton. The ‘ usual bored look on the latter’s face Was replaced by one of unexpected watchfulness which came as a shock to Harding. The look vanished instantly, and Thornton resumed his expression of bored indifference as he turned and answered some remark to his employer. But the expression had been too definite for Harding to be mistaken, and he caught himself glancing across the table front time to time. But either Thornton was no longer taking any interest in their conversation or he had obtained complete control over himself. “I hear you thought that one of two of the pearls might have been taken from my string, Mr. Harding,” said Mrs. Lee suddenly. Harding glanced quickly at Sheila before he replied. Her eyes were fixed studiously on her plate. “It was just an idea which crossed my mind,” he admitted. “It seemed to me queer that nothing had been stolen, and it occurred to me that such a big string, Mrs. Lee, one or two might not have been missed.” “I’ve nearly lost some of them twice, Mr. Harding. The clasp broke.” “I thought the metal was very thin when Mr. Lee showed them to me.” “It is,” said Mrs. Lee in her squeaky voice. “I must get something stronger. I think the sooner the better.” “Yon must get what?” demanded her husband suddenly, breaking off his low-toned conversation with Thornton. “I want to get a new clasp for my necklace.” explained his wife. "I thought it would be a good opportunity to take it to that old jeweller in Rye who mended it a short time ago. He told me the clasp would break again. I thought of going in this afternoon.” “I’ll take them in,” said her husband, curtly. “You might drop them on the way.” Robert Harding turned to Sheila. She had not raised her eyes from her plate, and seemed deliberately to refrain from turning toward him. He felt, rather than saw, her attitude of strain, the same attitude which she showed whenever the pearls were mentioned. He realised now that last night when she had nearly fainted when he mentioned that he had found a pearl she had dropped, it was because she was afraid. Her outburst before luncli when she had called him a coward for suggesting to Lee that he should count the pearls was also the outcome of fear. And now her sudden silence, he felt sure, was caused from the same reason. Whenever the pearls were mentioned Sheila showed a reaction which Harding could only put down to some unknown fear in connection with them. The whole thing was a complete puzzle. What could there be about the pearls which so completely and so swiftly changed her attitude? What Sarsaparilla Herbs.—A packet makes a quart of the best Sarsaparilla Blood Purifier. Make your own and have it fresh. Packet posted for 2s 3d.—E. W. Hall. Herbalist, 117 Armagh Street, Christchurch. 4

did it matter if Lee counted them and found them correct? What did it matter if he choose to take them into Rye that afternoon and have a fresh clasp put on? His reflections were cut short by the entrance of one of the servants. “Mr. Harding is wanted on the telephone, sir.’’ DEVELOPMENTS It was Inspector Vidler speaking. “That you, Harding? Sorry to drag you away from your lunch and the company you are enjoying. Who’s there, by the way?” Harding told him. "Your man Jennings with you?” “Yes ” “Tell him to keep his ears open for any gossip,” suggested the detective. “There’s more news to be picked up below stairs than above.” “I’ve already told him,” replied Harding. “Good. You’ll make a detective yet if you don’t fall in love,” chuckled Vidler. “Love’s ruined many a good career at the faculties for believing anything wrong of women. Don’t you fall into that error, Harding.” “What makes you think I will?” Harding steeled himself to keep his voice steady. He had no doubt the detective was not chipping him for the mere sake of doing so. That was not Vidler’s way. There was something behind his remarks, and he waited patiently to hear what it was. “Well, Miss Sunderland’s not so badlooking, is she?” “I’m not so susceptible as to fall in love with a girl on twenty-four flours’ acquaintance,” said Harding, a little sharply. Again be heard Vidler chuckle on the telephone. “I’ve known men fall in love in as many minutes and spend the next twenty-four years regretting it. I’m only giving you a friendly hint, that's all.” “Why not speak plainly?” growled Harding. “What have you got up against Miss Sunderland?” “Nothing,”' replied Vidler. “Why should I have? Any more than I have anything up against you.” Robert Harding smiled grimly. He knew, and knew that the inspector knew, that that remark was doubleedged. The detective had already told him that he suspected a girl might have been concerned in the murder of Simmonds, that she had been on the roof. The only thing Harding was uncertain about, was whether Vidler suspected it was Sheila Sunderland. Even if he did suspect, it was a long step to proving it. But Vidler’s next question shook him out of himself: “You remember I said there was a girl up in that loft? Did you see the advertisement I put in the papers this morning about her?” asked Vidler. “What advertisement?” The words came jerkily, and Harding was glad that the detective was seventy miles away and not asking the question face to face. “One hundred pounds reward,” quoted Vidler. “offered for information leading to the identity of a young lady, height five feet four, small feet and ankles, wearing grey tweed costume, who was hurrying in the neighbourhood of Stanley Road. West Kensington, between 10.15 and 10.30 p.m. on the night of the 6th inst.” “How did you know—she” —he very nearly said Miss Sunderland, but bit the name back—“was wearing a grey dress?” asked Harding. “Because I’m an inspector at Scotland Yard,” replied Vidler. “Just as I know she’s five feet four and has small feet and ankles, and, as a guess, blue eyes and brown hair.” Harding felt he was being played with, that his position was very much that of the mouse which is allowed a little run from the cat before the latter pounced again. His anger was rising, but he refused to be drawn l& ask the direct question of the detective. did he suspect Sheila Sunderland? “And a turned-up nose and a mother who’s taken to drink,” he said sarcastically. “What do you want me to do about the lady in the green dress if 1 see her?” “Well, if you do see her, let me

know, that's all. I’ll do the rest. I thought you’d be interested in the advertisement, as you are a temporary assistant to Scotland Yard.” “I don’t know that I shall be for long,” growled Harding. “It's too much like spying to me.” “Come, now,” said Vidler soothingly. “That’s not spoken like a British citizen who wants to uphold the law. Don’t let your feelings run away with you, Harding, and make a hero of the murderer. Think about Simmonds. It’s a funny thing to me the hero-worship which is so often paid to a murderer while his victim is almost forgotten. Murder's a pretty rotten thing, whichever way you look at it, and no amount of sentiment can get over that. It’s the first time I've over heard it called spying to search for evidence in a murder case.” Flytox is the ideal Insecticide. Kills flies and mosquitoes instantly. Stainless. Harmless to humans. Fragrant. —3.

Harding felt he was being reproved, and he had to admit the justice of Vidler’s homily. “People may be under suspicion who are innocent.” he said, in an attempt to defend himself. “Facts may get twisted.” “I shall not twist them,” retorted the inspector. “And to ease your mind I’ll promise you this, that before I arrest anybody I'll lay the whole evidence before you. Will that satisfy you, my dear Watson? It will give you the chance to prove I’m wrong.” “Are you coming down here at all?” “Probably,” said the detective. “There’s the inquest tomorrow, just the formal opening, and a few inquiries to make here first. I’ll probably telephone you before I come. Meanwhile keep an eye open,-and both ears, and tell Jennings to do the same.” Harding replaced the receiver with mixed feelings. He wondered how much Vidler knew-, how much he merely suspected. There was no

1 doubt he suspected Sheila Sunderland was the girl on the roof, but could ta< prove it? The knowledge be had got I that she was wearing a grey dress | was disquieting, and he made up his ! mind, whatever either Vidler or-Sheila | might think, that he must take the first opportunity to warn the latter, ! to show her the advertisement which . had appeared in the agony columns in j all that morning’s papers. I He made’no comment when he rej turned to the luncheon table, nor was 1 any made. Almost immediately after the meal was over Thornton rose and hurried away. Harding gathered from a remark of Lee’s that the secretary was going to London and >as expected to return late that e»e:-'.. . Lee himself disappeared into hts * r and Harding was left alon-’ with a two ladies. He waited patiently r an opportunity to be alone with Sheila, but it was soon obvious that she had no intention of giving him that opportunity. (To Be Continued Tomorrow.)