The Mystery of Ryeburn Manor

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 907, 26 February 1930, Page 5

The Mystery of Ryeburn Manor

By

JOHN LAURENCE

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

CHAPTER XX.— (Continued). Harding shrugged his shoulders. “On the contrary, he has been politeness itself,” he admitted. “I just don’t like the type, that is all.” He was not going to admit that he disliked Thornton because they were both in love with Sheila. When he came to think it over, in fact, he could not but come to the conclusion that it was a pretty poor motive to dislike any man. “It seems to me,” said Lee shrewdly, “that you've got your knife pretty deeply into Thornton. Mind you, l don’t say you’re not right. Probably you are. But because you don't like a man’s type doesn’t seem to me a good reason for looking for trouble for him.” Lee screwed up his eyes and looked at the inspector interrogatively. “This is in strict confidence.” said the latter. “But one of the duplicate keys of the safe found near Simmons had been cut to the order of Thornton. The other was made for Simmonds. Lee glared at the detective angrily. “Why don’t you arrest him. You’ve got enough, I should think, to hang him ten times over. What’s his alibi? Have you checked it up? He's got a key to the house and could come and go as he liked. And what the devil did Simmonds want with a key? Two dirty thieves. I call them ” Vidler shrugged his shoulders. "I thought they were after the pearls,” he said. “But there may have been something else more interesting in the safe, more valuable from the r point of view.” “Not from Thornton's point of view,” said Lee vigorously. “Or from Simmonds’s?” he added, after a pause. Thornton knew all the papers I kept in here, and they couldn’t have been of any interest to Simmonds. No, he was after the pearls. Of course, everybody in the house knew where they were kept, though they couldn’t get at them. Looks to me as though Thornton and Simmonds were after the pearls, and they both chose the time, and quarrelled. What do you think?” “It’s plausible, something to go

upon,” agreed the inspector. “But you see we’re a long way from an arrest yet. don’t you?” Lee nodded. He spoke rather curtly. “It's your affair, but I know what I would do.” “Well, don’t sack him yet or show that you know anything,” warned Vidler. “We’ve got a long way to go yet.” VIDLER HAS HIS FORTUNE TOLD Lee raised his eyebrows as though he did not believe there was any way to go. and looked across at Harding. “I’m going to have a wash and go down and have my fortune told,” said the inspector with a wink at Harding. “I hear Mrs. Lee has got something really good this time.” , “She's a fool,” growled Lee. “Women are all more or less mad, I think, but Maria's a bit madder than most. Some day she’ll pop off unexpectedly, and then I’ll have a future she’ll know nothing about.” “Crude devil,” said Harding as he and Vidler made their way to the bathroom. Vidler rubbed the corner of his eye and nodded. “A nasty man to be up against,” he observed. “Although I must admit the squeak)' Maria is not everybody’s choice.” In the drawing room the two found Mrs. Lee looking complacent, and triumphant. Thornton was staring gloomily at Sheila, who appeared thoroughly interested in Mrs. Lee’s arranging of the cards in front of her. As the two entered the room she swept the cards together. “We have been waiting for you, inspector.” “I hope your luck is going to be better than mine,” said Thornton. “As usual. I’m one of the damned.” “Mis-fortune telling, I suppose,” said Vidler lightly. “One of your unlucky days, Thornton. YY'e all get them. I’m ready, Mrs. Lee, but I warn you an inspector’s life is one round of failure.” “Haven’t you got any further, asked Sheila, as Mrs. Lee laid out the cards one by one.

“Frankly, we’re not making much progress at present. Miss Sunderland,” said Vidler pleasantly. “My assistant. Detective Robert Harding, hasn’t found out much.” The latter caught Sheila’s eyes fixed on him and thought he detected in them a look of friendliness which warmed him. He forgave Vidler for the lie he told. The latter settled down at the table and submitted himself to the attentions of Mrs. Lee. “Will you write it down. Sheila, please?” asked the latter. Mr. Y idler might like to keep it and verify it.” “1 shall be delighted,” murmured Vidler, as Sheila picked up a pad and pencil. „ . “It is what I should expect, began Mrs. Lee, looking at the cards spread before her. “All four knaves have appeared. Y’ou are surrounded by rogues.” SHEILA WRITES THE WORD “DEATH” Vidler listened with apparent intentness as she reeled off all the stock phrases of the fortune-teller. From his face one might have supposed that he was not only thoroughly interested in what Mrs. Lee was saying, but he also believed it. Harding chuckled to himself, and wondered what the detective's real thoughts were. Despite his scepticism, however, Harding had a feeling that there was something uncanny in Mrs. Lee’s constant references to death bringing misfortune, she bad said that Sheila would be very unhappy through a death and that it would also be mixed up with a love affair. That, he re-

fleeted, was exactly what was happening to Sheila. “I will tell your fortune tomorrow, Mr. Harding,” announced Mrs. Lee suddenly. “It is getting late and I am very tired.” “May I have this?” asked Vidler, picking up the pad on which Sheila had been writing. “It will be amusing to compare it with what happens.” Sheila nodded. “I read in the papers that you had got a clue, Mr. Vidler, and shortly expected to make an arrest,” she said, as Mrs. Lee went out. “You mustn’t believe everything you read in the papers, Miss Sunderland. We have to pretend we are doing something, even if we are not.” Was it fancy, thought Harding, or did he see a look of relief on her face? Certainly she seemed suddenly to become almost cheerful at the inspector’s words. “I would much sooner have been walking down oij the beach in the moonlight than listening to Mrs. Lee telling those absurd fortunes,” she said. “I think you were most awfully polite, Mr. Vidler.” “We’ve all got our little failings, Miss Sunderland, and all got our points of view. Thornton seemed to be the gloomy one of the party.” “Mr. Lee is a little difficult sonietimes,” said Sheila hurriedly. “I think if you will excuse me I will go to bed, too.” “And I,” announced Vidler. “Joining the bedtime procession, Harding?” In his room the detective put the reading lamp on a small table, and, unlocking his bag, took out one of a number of photographs. It was a photograph of the scrap of paper with the word “Death” on it, found near the body of Simmonds, giving the keyword to the combination of the safe in Ditching Road. For ten minutes he compared the word death with the same word which Sheila had written three times in his fortune at the dictation of Mrs. Lee. “It doesn’t want a handwriting expert to swear to that!” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. “If Miss Sunderland didn’t write down that key-word I’ll eat the blinking negative.” CHAPTER XXI. A PUZZLE. . As Vidler was dressing in the morning he decided that he would pay a visit to headquarters and talk over his discoveries with the Commissioner and Superintendent Markham. He was puzzled over Sheila Sunderland. As he pieced together the fragments of the jig-saw it appeared to him that everything fitted in on the assumption that Sheila was shielding Thornton because she was, or had been, at one time, at any rate, in love with Lee’s secretary. But Vidler could not find a place in the jig-saw for the scrap of paper in Sheila’s handwriting which had on it the combination of the safe in Di.chling Road. He was too good a psychologist to believe that the girl had deliberately joined forces witb Thornton, to rob their employers. That assumption would have meant that she had found out the combli.ation, and written it down for Thornton’s information. “I don’t believe it,” muttered the detective, fastening his collar and pulling a faee at himself in the glass. “Though I suppose that lumbering elephant Markham will.” He heard Harding coming out of his room next door, and he dashed into the corridor and called softly after him.

“Come in while I finish.” he invited. “I want to talk to you, young fellow my lad.” “Cheerful this morning, aren't you?” said Harding, with a smile. “The great brains have been working ill the night, D.V.?” “I’m going up to London for the day," said the detective. “What of the clouds and the visibility and the general direction of the wind, and the millibars and isobars, Harding?” “You mean you'd like me to fly you up there?” “It's quicker, isn't it? And will blow some of the cobwebs away which have been spun in the night.”

“lf you’re ambitious to join the Flying Squad,” observed Harding, “I shall be charmed.” “That joke was made by Markham two days ago,” pointed out Vidler, chuckling. “I must introduce you to Markham. . He makes more noise with his mouth than an airplane engine. and occasionally has flashes of intelligence when I'm there to guide him gently.” VIDLER FINDS A.REVOLVER “What’s been worrying you partii cularly iu the night?” asked Harding. “Nothing in particular,” returned Vidler mendaciously. “It’s all a bit of a mix-up. If it’s any consolation to you, I can’t fit Miss Sunderland in. I don’t think she’s a potential thief or murderess, but she's well entangled.” “That's Thornton,” cried Harding sharply. “He’s dragged her into this.” “And you and I have got. to drag her out,’’ said the detective, with a

twinkle in his' eye. “There’s the breakfast gong.” “The sooner Thornton’s ” He stopped as Vidler put a warning finger to his lips. A door in the corridor shut sharply. “That’s Thornton,” he said, lowering his voice. “Go down with him. And for heaven’s sake pull that nasty look off your face and put on the best Harding smile of welcome. Look as though you were going to meet ! Miss Sunderland.” He opened the door and pushed j Harding out into the corridor before ) the latter could frame a suitable rei tort and waited till he heard his footstops die away down the staircase. The inspector followed and, silently closing his own door, ran on tip-toe to Thornton’s bedroom. He turned the key in the lock and walked across to the window and cal-

culated the drop in ease of emergencies. Vidler was leaving nothing to chance. He did not want to be caught in Thornton’s bedroom, even by one of the servants, let alone Thornton himself. He first of all opened the drawers of the di-essing table. The search he made was methodical and complete, though it was carried through with surprising speed. “It must be in that box,” he muttered. Placed underneath the window was a long, low, old-fashioned oak chest, which also served as a seat. Vidler tried the lid and found it locked. He knelt down and pulling out a bunch of keys—keys of assorted shapes and sizes, which few men outside the burglary profession usually carry—tried them one after another. He uttered a cry of satisfaction as the old-fashiened lock clicked back and he raised the lid. "Right on top, tile fool!" His eye had immediately caught

; sight of a revolver lying on top of a I collection of miscellaneous objects, j He examined it quickly and, replacing | it, shut the lid and locked it. Exactly one minute later he was walking into the breakfast room with an easy ; apology on his lips for being late. “The country air makes me sleepy,” he said with a smile. “It seems to suit you, Harding. I heard you go out just as I was beginning to dress.” “Early to bed and early to rise,” scoffed Harding, who was sitting beside Sheila and had recovered his natural good spirits. “Health’s the only thing I’m likely jto get by the early-rising method, j said the detective with a twinkle in ‘ his eyes. “Police inspectors don’t get i wealthy or wise.” “Some do,” said Lee, speaking with ! his mouth full. “The police get their j pickings like anybody else. They i wouldn't be human if they didn’t." "Business men are included. I sup- | pose, Mr. I,ep?" said Y'idler with a glint in his eyes.

Lee laughed. “I’ve had my pickings,” he admitted. “Harding says you are going up to town. I’ve asked h:m if he’U deliver a packet of papers for me. It will save me sending Thornton up. I’ve got plenty he can do here, and he can go tomorrow. Are you coming back -onight?” “I’m not sure,” hedged Vidler. “It depends on circumstances and what results have been got from the inquiries I have started.” (To be continued tomorrow). I