The Mystery of Ryeburn Manor

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 920, 13 March 1930, Page 5

The Mystery of Ryeburn Manor

By

JOHN LAURENCE

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

CHAPTER XLII. (continued). Viiler arrived shortly after eleven o’clock, and approached the house from the back. Hu appeared to be in no hurry to enter and announce his arrival. In fact, quite the reverse. For some time he stood chatting to one of the gardeners about Simmonds. “’E didn't know much about a garden, sir, ’ said that gardener in reply to his question. •‘Though 'a was willing to learn, and that’s more than some of ’em are. I never ad to show him twice ’ow to do a bit of bedding out. I could a’ made something of ’im if e'd lived." “He was liked by everybody?" “E was a bit reserved like, but none the worse for that,” answered the gardener as he tied a piece of bass round the stem of some climbing roses. “ ’lm and me got on well together. We was all sorry when ’e went. You ain't found out nothing, I suppose, sir?” “We’re getting there," replied Vidler. There was little to be gained there, and he strolled slowly across to the garage, outside the open doors of which he had seen the chauffeur washing down the cars. •'What does she do to the gallon?” asked Vidler, indicating the small twoseater. “About thirty to thirty-two, sir. I don’t keep a record of her now. I used to, but Mr. Lee and Mr. Thornton didn't keep it up, so ] stopped putting it down. The other’s the best car, though she only does eighteen. I generally drives her.” "You keep a record of her?” The chauffeur put his hand in the pocket of the driver's door, and pulled out a small pocket-book. “Eighteen as near as I can make it," he remarked, turning over the pages The inspector looked at the entries idly. Each contained the date, the reading of the speedometer, the mileage since the last reading, and the number of gallons of petrol which had been put in the tank.

He pointed to a row of figures which had been half crossed through. “You seem to have got in a muddle here,” he remarked.

The chauffeur scratched his head. “I can't make out what happened there,” he confessed. “I must have been reading the speedometer wrong.” “You’re a hundred and fifty miles out. According to the book you didn’t use any petrol doing it.”

“Well, sir, the tank was full enough,” explained the chauffeur, with a puzzled air. ‘‘l never did understand those figures, so I just puts down eighteen miles to the gallon, and left it at that.”

Vidler made a mental note of the date, and looked thoughtful. The chauffeur might not be able to understand, but the inspector "was turning an idea over in his mind, which was the most startling that had yet occurred to him since he had been investigating the murder of Simmonds.

§ “Does Mrs. Leo drive?” he asked casually. “Yes, sir. She's a very good driver for a woman, and understands about cars, which most of ’em don’t, with all due respect. It ain’t their fault. They ain’t got the mechanical mind ” Vidler began to revise his views about Mrs. Lee. He wondered how much of her fortune-telling was a pose. “Mrs. Lee prefers the big car, I suppose?” he asked. “Oh, yes, sir. She thinks the twoseater don't hold the road well. Mr. Lee and Mr. Thornton uses the small car mostly.” The chauffeur replaced the record boob ih its pocket. For somo minutes the inspector continued to talk about cars and their idiosyncrasies, and then strolled away with a thoughtful look on his face. Vidler was not afraid of starting theories, but the one he was revolving over in his mind was one which made him whistle softly to himself as he entered the house. He found Lee in the library, and (he export merchant greeted him cheerily. "Wondered when you were coming, Vidler. Harding said last night that you were after the pearls. Brought them with you?” Vidler laughed. “Harding’s a little optimistic,” he retorted. “We’ve got a few ideas, but they take time working out. Have you put. in a claim yet?” “Told Thornton to send it in this morning.” replied Lee promptly. "Thought they may as well get busy.” MARKHAM’S TASK Vidler rubbed his eyelid with his handkerchief. So Lee sent in a claim for insurance! That was significant. It seemed to imply that he had not known the pearls in the safe were imitation, that he had believed them to be real. Vidler had rejected the theory that Lee might have known all along they were imitation. He could see no reason for that, despite Lee’s apparent lack of real excitement, when he found the pearls were missing. Vidler reflected that lie had been looking at the loss of £20,000 from his own point of view'. Though the sum was colossal from the inspector’s viewpoint, from that of the export merchant it was a comparatively small sum. “They were insured in the wife’s name,” continued Lee. “Did it in one of my soft moments. Theoretically she’ll get the money. He laughed and winked. “She wouldn’t know what to do will* it* if she did get it,” he added. "Though Maria’s not half the fool she pretends to be. You mustn’t be taken in by all her guff about the spooks.’’ Vidler was silent for a moment while he digested this fresh piece of news. So the insurance money went to Mrs. Lee! “Did Mrs. Lee suggest they should be insured in her name?” he asked. “Oh, lord. yes. She’s got her own i

banking account. I gave them to her on the twentieth anniversary of our marriage. We married young. She was only eighteen and I was twenty.’ 1 ou don't look much over fort'.’ observed Vidler. hot- Forty-one next month ihe insurance company will be sniffy, having to pay up on the first premium.” As Vidler wandered downstairs a few minutes later, in answer to the luncheon gong, he wondered very much if the insurance company would have to pay. And he made a point of sitting next to Mrs. Lee, for she had suddenly begun to interest him in an extra ordinary degree.

That afternoon Vidier walked into Rye, and from the police station put through a call to Markham at Scotland Yard. “You’ve got news, laddie,” boomed the latter, making the earpiece vibrate. Fve got a bit of work for you,” replied the inspector. “I want you to make inquiries of all the garages for ;i mile or so round Ditchling Road, and iind out if a car, a Forrest four-seater saloon, painted dark blue, index number YV 1922 was garaged there between the hours of eight and twelve on the night of the murder.” ‘‘Lee’s car, I suppose?” answered the superintendent. “Oh, marvellous Sherlock,” jeered Vidler. “Lee's car it is.” CHAPTER XLIII. VIDLER AND SHEILA “I suppose Lee’s alibi is a bit wonky?” questioned Markham. “I haven’t tested it yet, so you needn’t jump to conclusions,” replied Vidler. “Lee’s’ not the only person in Ryeburn Manor who can drive ai car. Any news your end?” Markham chuckled. He knew it was no use asking Vidler to give any further details. “All right. Where shall I phone you?”

“At Ryeburn Manor. If I’m not there, leave a message for me to phone you.” “Jennings came in this morning. His face was a sight l’or the gods. You might have given the poor devil a warning.” “I forgot about him,” confessed Vidler, “and if 1 had remembered 1 shouldn’t have thought the maid would have turned up.” “She turned up ail right, and I generally gathered from Jennings’s iucoherency that he was summed up from his feet to the hair of his head. Judging by what he didn’t report, the maid must have been worth hearing. Jennings’s chief concern is the money ■ he’s spent on taking her out.” In the town afterward Vidler saw Harding's car drawn up outside a tea shop and with a slight smile on his face he entered. “X suppose three’s not company,” he said lightly, sitting down at the table where Sheila and Harding were having tea. “You might have told me you were coming in. I had to walk all the way to Rye.” “We’ll take you back,” grinned Harding happily. “Lee and Thornton have gone to Hastings for fhe afternoon and we thought we’d have tea out. We hadn't counted on you butting in.” “Y’ou're not hutting in, Mr. Vidler,” said Sheila. “You are always welcome.” Vidler smiled as he looked into her blue eyes. No wonder Harding was in love with her! He could almost have fallen in love with her himself. Her face was glowing with happiness as she poured out a cup of tea for him. At the moment, indeed, even the unexpected appearance of the inspector failed to have a damping effect upon her high spirits. “You are becoming quite a wellknown person, Miss Sunderland,” observed Vidler. “There -was quite a thrilling account of your escape :’n today’s papers.” “Yes, I felt quite brave after reading it, but it. was the other way round, r was so frightened, in fact, that I fainted, and knew nothing about it until I opened my eyes on the sands.” “And found Harding looking into them?” said Vidier. Sheila blushed. “I found several people looking into them.” she declared. “Mr. Harding naturally was there.” “I suppose I can congratulate you both,” said Vidler boldly. “We were certainly very lucky to escape,” agreed Sheila, with a twinkle of amusement in her eyes, as she turned the detective's words. “You are both-destined for greater things than being killed in the air.” He leant forward with a serious expression on his face as he spoke. “I wonder, Miss Sunderland, if you are prepared to tell me anything about Mrs. Lee’s pearls?” he added. The happiness died suddenly from her face. “About Mrs. Lee’s pearls?” she faltered. “It. would help me quite a lot in finding the murderer of Simmonds if I knew what you were doing in Ditchling Road that night, and what you may know about the pearls,” he said gently. . “Is this necessary now. I).V . *. asked Harding, as he saw the look of distress on Sheila's face. “Miss Sunderland has told me she will tell you everything before long.” “NOTHING BUT TROUBLE” “Meanwhile Simmonds’s murderer remains undiscovered,” said Y idler, a little sharply. “I shoulc. have thought nothing would prevent anyone telling the truth if it meant finding the murderer.” , .... .. “I can't help you with that, said Sheila in a low voice, nervously stirring her tea. “You’ve no right to question Miss Sunderland, D.V..” protested Harding. "You might trap her into saying something she didn’t mean.’’ Th' 3 inspector raised his eyebrows. «»Mv dear Harding, if Miss Sunderland has not taken Mrs. Lee’s pearls, has rot murdered Simmonds, there is nothing for her to hide, there is no trail for her to enter. People wno have nothing to hide never fear telling the truth.” . J ••I have not stolen Mrs. Lee 3 , nearls ” said Sheila quickly. Really ; ■md truly I haven’t. Mr. Vinler! Oh, j you must believe that! I’m not a The tears were welling in hei eyes, and Harding looked quickly at the inspector. The latter effected to ignore

the black looks lie was receiving, it seemed that he much preferred to look into the appealing, moist, blue j eyes of Sheila Sunderland. “I don’t believe you did steal them,” | declared Vidler. “but I do think you j know who did.” “What have the pearls got to do with Mr. Simmonds?” fenced Sheila. J “That’s what I am trying to find out. But let us stick to the pearls for the moment. Miss Sunderland. Do you know who has stolen them?” “t can’t answer that—oh, I can’t!” ’ She wrung her hands in despair, and Harding bent across to the detec- [ tive. “Miss Sunderland’s not in a fit state ; to answer your questions, D.V. You’ve j no right to question her in a public restaurant. YTdler smiled, and held out his j CUD. “May I have another cup of tea, j Miss Sunderland? It will soothe my j nerves. Really, I think in a minute j Harding will refuse to give me a lift j back to Ryeburn Manor.” “I wish I’d never seen the place,” retorted Harding, angrily. “It’s brought nothing but trouble.” “If you hadn’t seen it, if .you hadn't come down with me That day,” said YTdler, with a twinkle in his eye, “you might never have met the girl on the roof again—you might never have ' known Miss Sunderland. Is she j nothing but trouble?” BLUFFING? The light banter in his tones broke the tension. The colour came back i to Sheila’s cheeks. . “I have been the cause of all Mr. j ] Harding’s troubles,” she said. “But j ] if it hadn’t been for Mr. Harding they j i might have been worse.” i j

“And Mr. Vidler,” murmured the j detective, lighting a cigarette. | “D’V.’s certainly been patient,” dej dared Harding. "I must apologise for feeling a little wild, but the fact ! is, D.V.—only we don’t want it spread j —Miss Sunderland and X are engaged to be married.” “Quick work—and congratulations.” There was a genuine ring of pleasure in the detective’s tones, and Sheila glanced across at him with a grateful look. “I don’t think you are half so dreadful as you pretend to be some- ■ times,” she said softly. ‘'Really and j truly, Mr. Y T idler, I am not hiding any- : thing from you which matters —which would help you.” “Perhaps not,” agreed Vidler. “But I can’t say how vital it may be until I hear what it is, can I? There are all sorts of questions which I can’t answer. Why were you in Ditchting Road at all that night, for instance? Why should the clasp of the missing necklace be in your bedroom?” Sheila was silent. The questions did not come as a shock to her, for she already knew through Harding what the detective had discovered. Suddenly she looked up and met his eyes frankly. “I may be able to tell you soon. Mr. j Vidler, if voir will give me a little I time. Will you?” Vidler nodded bis agreement. It i was a step forward, though not much . of a one. But he felt sure that whatever her motive was for keeping back • her news it was not a criminal one. But her refusal to speak made things more difficult for him. He was trying, as it were, to fit together the

various pieces of a jig-saw puzzle with the knowledge that some of them were missing. “I don’t know how much time I can give you, Miss Sunderland. If I were the only person concerned, I should trust to your common sense to tell me. But I’m only a cog in the machine. 1 have to report to my chiefs at Scotland I can hold them back a little while, but no-t the insurance company. Mr. Lee instructed Thornton this morning to put in a claim.” “Mr. Lee is claiming the insurance money! ” she exclaimed, in agitated tones. “Oh. but he can’t Mr. Y T idler! He mustn't!” “1 don’t understand. He has,” said ! the inspector. He saw that Harding was puzzled, too. Here were deeper depths than j he had yet probed; but when he j pressed her to explain she took re- i fuge in his promise to give her time j to reply.

He -wondered what she meant that Lee couldn’t —mustn’t —put in a claim for compensation for his loss. Did that mean she knew the pearls were not lost in the real sense of the word ? Had Lee still got them, and was his claim a bogus one? If so, what was the explanation of the clasp that had been found in Sheila’s bedroom? What was Thornton’s idea in sending the imitation pearls to Lilian de Hava? Was Sheila Sunderland bluffing all the while? Her unguarded exclamation gave him much food for thought—and her actions, too, afterward. From the moment she had learnt the news that Dee had put in a claim she showed a definite anxiety to return to Ryeburn Manor. “She wants to talk to Lee just as quickly aa possible,’’ reflected the inspector. He sat behind Harding on the way back, and the latter looked gloomily ahead, and hardly spoke. Sheila was

in the back of the car, a very different expression on her face from that which she had worn when Vidier had entered the tea-shop at Rye. Once in Ryeburn Manor she immediately went upstairs. An inquiry of one of the servants brought the reply that Lee and Thornton had not returned from Hastings. On the telephone pad in the hall Vidier saw a message asking him to ring up Scotland Yard. (To be continued tomorrow).