The Mystery of Ryeburn Manor

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 908, 27 February 1930, Page 5

The Mystery of Ryeburn Manor

By

JOHN LAURENCE

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

CHAPTER3XXT 'Continued* "This morning’s papers say an arrest is expected any minute,” said Mrs. Lee in her high-pitched voice. “More tea, James? And do you mind passing me the toast-rack?” A TELEPHONE CALL Harding involuntarily glanced across the table at Thornton as Mrs. Lee spoke, but was looking down on his plate, and appeared to show nothing more than a general polite interest in what was being said. “You’ve got a nerve,” reflected Harding. “I told Miss Sunderland last night that that was all eyewash,” laughed Vidler. “Frankly, I’m just about as puzzled over the case as 1 was the first night I came and found Simmonds.” “I thought,” began Lee, and then shut his mouth quickly as Thornton looked across to the inspector. “Do you expect to find anything down here, inspector?” he asked. “This seems to be rather far away from Ditchling Road.” “This was where Simmonds first turned up,” explained Vidler. “It may lead nowhere, of course, but we can’t afford to neglect any clues. Simmonds’ past life might throw some light on his death. You knew him at school, Thornton. I suppose his people must have been fairly well-to-do, being able to send him to Cheltenham?”

“I don’t know that I ever heard anything about them,” answered Thornton. “I left the term before he did, and lost sight of him. I was terribly shocked to find he was down and out and was an under-gardener here.” Mrs. Lee spoke in unctuous tones. “It was very gratifying to James and myself that we were able to help the poor fellow.” Harding and Sheila’s eyes met, and he saw in them the disgust she felt at Mrs. Lee’s attitude. He was about to whisper that he agreed, when a servant bent over him. “You are wanted on the telephone, sir.” It was Jennings—a Jennings who spoke with the self-satisfaction of a man who had obtained some measure of success in his inquiries. “I thought as 'ow you would like to have early information about the investigations I ’ave been pursuing, sir,” he began. "It ’as been very informative.” “Well, cough it up in plain English,” ordered Harding. “He had that key cut at Locker’s in South Kensington,” announced Jennings triumphantly. “He gave them a wax impression to cut it from.” “Carry on. Jennings. That’s good work,” said Harding, refraining from telling his manservant that Vidler had already obtained the same informa- ! tion about Thornton’s activities. JENNINGS REPORTS “That ain’t all, sir,” said Jennings, speaking quickly. “Mr. Thornton lives in a flat in South Kensington. I got friendly like last evening with one of the maids in the flat below.” “Took her to the pictures, eh?” “Well, in a manner of speaking, I did, sir. There was a film she particularly wanted to see called ‘Love Rules the World.’ A bit too sentimental for me, sir. Mary Jarvis was her name, rather good looking.” “Cut the cackle and get down to it, Jennings,” growled Harding. “I showed ’er Mr. Thornton’s photograph, sir,” continued Jennings. “And she was most communicative. I said I was a private inquiry agent, which in a manner of speaking I was, and hinted as ’ow Mr. Thornton had got hisself mixed up with a married lady. " ‘Oh.’ she says, ‘you men are all alike. One woman won’t never satisfy you, not if she was the Queen of Sheba.’ An’ then she says as ’ow Mr. Thornton had got a girl, ’an as for being at home last Tuesday night she saw ’im go out all poshed—dressed up as though he was going to the opera. He lives in the flat above. She was sitting waiting for her lady to come back from the theayter and she heard him come in.” “What time was that. Jennings?” “Just before midnight, sir. He drove up in a taxi an' she ’eard him pacing about overhead afterward.”

“Has she ever seen his—er—girl?” asked Harding. “Yes, six'. A dark-haired female, I understands, who’s sometimes been up to his flat. Miss Jarvis, who is most pertickler who she goes out with, say she’s an actress. She says as ’ow Miss Jenny Oliver, who’s the cook at No. 14, did tell her her name once, but she ain’t got a good memory for names. ‘Faces, now,’ she says, ‘I remember a mile off, but names always were a weakness of mine.’ She's promised to find out for me.”

CHAPTER XXIi. A FLIGHT BACK TO TOWN “Good work, Jennings,” congratulated Harding, "I’m coming to town this moi'ning—flying up. You’d better be at my flat, and I’ll get fuller particulars.” “Very good, sir,” said Jennings. Harding made no comment on his return to the breakfast-room. Sheila was engaged in a lively conversation with the inspector and Lee on flying. “Mr. Vidler has been telling me how he is looking forward to flying to London, Mr. Harding,” she said, turning to him at once. “I think I should be terribly wobbly when I looked down from a height.” “That’s one of the extraordinary fallacies people who remain on the ground always have,” replied Harding. “There’s not the slightest sensation of height at all when you are flying. It’s a most delightfully smooth way of travelling, and there’s not as much sensation of movement, indeed, as thei'e is in an ordinary car on the road. I would be delighted to take you up and prove it to you.” “Perhaps I will accept that ;nvdalion some time,” she promised. “I’ve been up half a dozen times,” broke in Lee. “And I’m going to take lessons. It’s a darned sight easier than driving a car.” “With the modern methods of control, and the new safety devices now fitted on most machines, there is hardly any danger at all, except due to sheer carelessness,” agreed Harding. “When will you be ready, D.V.?” "I’m ready now,” replied the detective. Sheila walked down with them to watch them go off. Vidler purposely made an excuse to return to the house for something he had forgotten. “It is very good of you to say nothing to Mr. Vidler,” said Sheila, as they walked toward the airplane. “You must be thinking dreadful things about me.” “I have been thinking just the very reverse. Miss Sunderland,” replied Harding, quickly. “All I wane is to help you. I know you didn’t kill Simmonds.” “You speak as though you know who did. Inspector Vidler seems all at sea.” “D.V. may be all at sea, but he’s a good navigator, and knows where he is on the sea, Miss Sunderland. I think he’s practically certain of his man, though he doesn’t want it known at present.” “And do you know, too?” They had reached the airplane, and she turned and faced him. The morning sun shone full on her face, and he saw, with a pang, the look of anxiety in her eyes. It hurt him ■that she should have such feelings for Thornton that she was prepared to go on shielding him, and jeopardising her own reputation.” “I know, but I am not permitted to tell, Miss Sunderland.” “Won’t you tell me? I—l promise to say nothing.” Harding shook his head. “All I can say is, I think D.V. is going up to London to put his case before his superiors,” he told her. “Anything may happen after that. ” She clasped her hands in despair, and Harding felt that he was being a brute. He was thankful that the arrival of Vidler enabled him to .urn away, and attend to his machine. But all the way to Loudon he could not get out of his mind the vision of a solitary, slim figure looking upward after them until they disappeared, a j

slim, tragic figure in white, which was now all the world to him. VIDLER REPORTS TO THE YARD “I wish I could induce the powers that be to buy me an airplane,” said Vidler, as he regretfully climbed out of Harding’s machine. “Flying’s got any other form of travelling absolutely beaten.” “Everybody will be flying when we get the landing fields,” declared Harding. “If there was one dotted every five miles throughout England flying would be the rage, and with the new automatic slots practically all danger when landing and taking off is eliminated. They’re like four-wheel brakes on a cai\” Vidler nodded his agreement, though he did not . know what an automatic slot was. But he did know that the flight from Winchelsea had proved to be a most delightful sensation, and one he was only too willing to repeat as often a's possible. “We’ll take a taxi up to town,” he said, as they walked across the airdrome together toward the entrance. “I’m going to the Yard this morning. What are you going to do?” “I shall go up to my flat. I’ve arranged for Jennings to be there. I hadn’t an opportunity to tell you before, but that was Jennings on the phone at breakfast. He’s been making a few discoveries. D.V.” He related in the taxi what Jennings had told him over the telephone. "So Thornton’s got at least one other girl,” said Vidler, thoughtfully, when Harding had finished. “When a man is fooling about with one girl and is engaged to another, there is generally trouble. No wonder he did not want news of his engagement to leak out. I’m beginning to see now what Lee meant when he said his secretary was crazy .to make money. Women are expensive pets to have about the house.” “You’re an old cynic, D.V.” scoffed Harding. “Marriage and half a- dozen children would alter your point of view.” "It wouldn’t alter the fact that it’s expensive,” retorted Vidler. “You’re going to your flat, you say? If you get any more details from Jennings telephone me. We can fix up about meeting then. I don’t know what time Markham and the Chief Commissioner will take.” Harding dropped the detective at the Embankment, and drove on to his flat at Kensington. Vidler was full of high spirits, and grinned cheerfully when he entered the Commissioner’s room. Superintended John Markham boomed a welcome. “And how’s the Winchelsea, D.V. ?” “Don’t let him start making puns,” begged the detective, turning toward the Commissioner. “What news have you gathered about Simmonds?” Sir Arthur Hamblen opened a file in front of him. “Not much, I’m afraid, yet,” he admitted; “but the trail is clear enough. When you telephoned, I sent Kenneth down to Cheltenham to see their records. He’s just sent in his report, and cleared off to Swanage where the Simmonds family lived when Simmonds was at school. Simmonds was at Cheltenham, 190 S-1913, and left to enter his father’s business in London.” “What was his father?” “In the cui-rant trade. He imported currants, and raisins and that kind of thing, so we understand. Swanage must have been his address when he wasn’t working.” “The J>oy had a good reputation at school?” A SURVEY OF THE CASE "Excellent, I gather. In the first Rugger team, captain of the eleven, and one of the ornaments of the school. Kenneth reports that the school has a further note that he joined up in the war, and was promoted rapidly. He remained in the Army of Occupation till 1920, when he came home because of family troubles. What they were exactly is not known. There were rumours that his father went smash suddenly during the period following the inflation, and put his head in a gas oven. Luckily the mother had died before the war. The people at Cheltenham had no knowledge of any brothers or sisters, but of course there may have been some.”

“Simmonds hasn’t got the record of a pearl-robber,” said Vidler, thoughtfully. “What about Thornton?” “Not Jko good,” said the Commissioner. “Kenneth reports that he was always a difficult boy at school, slack in games. He was lazy, but brilliant at times, and always inveighing against the authority of the prefects. He left suddenly, going to the England v. Scotland match at . Twickeu

ham, against the school regulations. There was some hint, too, of gambling in the dormitories with Thornton getting up a heavy winner.” “Thornton’s your man all right,” boomed the Superintendent. “Think so?” queried Vidler. "And how’s the great mind come to that conclusion? I’ve got more evidence than you have, but I’m not so sure as you, little man.” The big-framed Superintendent guffawed. “You’ll grow some day, boy,” he said, good-naturedly. “Thornton took a wax impression of the key of Lee’s safe. Thornton’s oil bad terms with Simmonds, Thornton’s got a bad reputation all round, he’s crazy on money, and he’s got an alibi which isn’t watertight.” “Give a boy a bad name, and hang him,” retorted Vidler. “You haven’t given a scrap of real evidence against Thornton except the making of that safe key. The fact it was found near Simmonds’s body is no proof Thornton dropped it.” “Then it was the girl,” said the Superintendent, stroking his beard. “She and Thornton were as thick as thieves.” “That lets out Thornton,” said Vidler. “They might both have been in the house at the same time,” interposed the Commissioner. All three “men were thoroughly accustomed ..o this method of examining the pros and cons of a case. The Triumvirate, as they were nicknamed, each in turn put forward suggestions, and had them overhauled without any rancour. When Vidler made his arrest, and placed his man in the dock, every point in the defence had been forseen, and prepared for. “God-Willing Vidler” had another nickname at Scotland Yard, “Hundred per cent. Vidler,” for up to the present he had never failed to' see his man convicted. And he had no intention of spoiling his record in the Ditchling Road murder case. CHAPTER XXIII. THORNTON’S ALIBI Vidler took up the argument. “We know the girl was in the house. We know she and Thornton were engaged to be married. I have the engagement ring.” He produced it, and the Superintendent laughed boisterously. “You didn’t tell us about the ring, you sly old devil,” he chuckled. “Pinched it off her finger while she was asleep, eh?” Vidler related how he had obtained possession of the ring. “We’ll come back to the man who was watching them quarrel, and seemed annoyed about it, later,” remarked Sir Arthur Hamblen. "Let’s stick to Thornton and the girl for the moment. I agree with you, D.V., that the only real clue against him is the cutting of the key. His alibi’s a difficulty.” “He lied about his alibi,” said Vidler. “He wasn’t at home quietly reading, and did not return till after twelve. He was in a devil of a hurry, came in a taxi, and then paced up and down his room as though he’d got something on his mind. He was getting agitated, in fact.” “You, of course, were lying under the settee that evening, smoking cigarettes. D.V.” “While you’ve been sitting here waiting to get all the credit,” retorted Vidler, “I have been slaving myself to death on an inspector’s pittance, not lying, resting myself on or under settees. The information came from one Mary Jarvis.” He repeated what Jennings had discovered, and the Commissioner rflade a few notes for further investigations. “Thornton may have spent the evening in his little actress’s flat,” pointed out the inspector. “If he did our case against Thornton goes west.” “Depends upon her reputation,” said Markham sagely. “We must find out who she is before you can say that. What I want to know is, what upset him?" “He might have been trying to break with her. and found it impossible, or he might have come straight from Simmonds.”

It was Vidler who threw out the two suggestions. “What about blackmail earlier in the evening, by the girl, and a decision to get the pearls later to satisfy her?” asked the Commissioner. “The appearance of the Sunderland girl on the scene may have been sheer accident, upsetting Thornton’s plans.” “Why the dickens did Simmonds have a key of the safe cut?” demanded Vidler testily. “What was he after? You two are so busy trying to fix it on Thornton you’re forgetting Simmonds.” “And you keep leaving out Miss Sunderland,” he added. "Finding excuses for her. But it was she who wrote the combination of the safe on one of the scraps of paper found in the room.” THE COMBINATION AGAIN “Good Lord, we’re getting into a fine mess.” ejaculated the Superintendent. “That brings her in.” Neither questioned the authenticity

of the inspector’s statement, for both were perfectly well aware that he would be able to prove it. “My horoscope or fortune from the cards,” smiled Vidler, putting on the table the sheet from the pad on which Sheila had written at Mrs. Lee’s dictation. “There’s the photograph of that bit of paper.” The Commissioner and the Superintendent closely examined the two pieces of paper. “No possible doubt whatever,” declared Sir Arthur. “What’s your conclusion?” Vidler shook his head. "Try Markham. He’s got the brains of the family.” “You’ve been a long time recognising them,” cried Markham, noisily. “She found out the combination was Death, wrote it down, and passed it on to Thornton, who dropped it when he cleared out in a hurry.” Vidler pursed his lips and looked gloomy.

“Just what I thought, but the difficulty is I can’t believe it. I’ve watched that girl and I’m betting she’s had nothing to do with the attempted robbery, and nothing to do with the killing of Simmonds.” “D.V.’s got a hunch,” jeered the Superintendent. “He’s looked into a pair of blue eyes and fallen at last. When’s the wedding, D.V.? I should like to present the bride with a nice pair of bracelets, latest pattern.” “When I get married you can put the bracelets on me.” retorted the inspector. "I don't want to run to seed yet.” (To be continued tomorrow).