THE GREEN SHADOW

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 949, 16 April 1930, Page 5

THE GREEN SHADOW

By

HERMAN LANDON

Copyright by Publio Ledger

CHAPTER VI. —Continued "The temptation to get even has been a little too strong for me. j have tweaked the law’s nose and twisted Its tail. Silly rot, isn t it. Well, that's the way 1 am. But once in a while, when I see a woman who is both beautiful and true, then— Oh, hang it aft ’ I’m trying to explain, and I’m only making a mess of if.” , She smiled vaguely. "I think l understand. And I —l think you are just splendid!” “Well, opinions differ. Today I was lunching with a man who wants to put me in gaol. He may succeed some day, but first I want accomplish a number of things. You can help me by permitting me to help you. Will you?” “Oh, gladly! ” He fixed her with a ’lingering, faintly smiling glance. "Great! If Doctor Moffett could see you now he would shake in his boots. We’ll put a crimp in his dirty game. But where to begin? I had an idea this morning. “Now—if the woman who was murdered last night is the same person you knew as Miss Conway, that complicates the situation. I must mull over it a while. I may make a call or two this evening. You may hear from me tomorrow morning. In the meantime, remember the caterpillar.” “1 shan’t forget,” she promised. She smiled brightly again. Impulsively she reached out her hand, and their alliance was sealed with a clasp. Dale remained seated on the bench as she walked away, watching the eager, graceful motions of her fresh young limbs. A little sigh escaped him. "Steady, old boy!” he told himself. “The Picaroon mustn't look too deeply into eyes like those.” CHAPTER VII. DALE MAKES INQUIRIES At 7 o'clock that evening. Dale made his second appearance within two days at No. 262 Bank Street. His former 'isit had been in a strange guise and in an unceremonious fashion, and his mode of entry had been somewhat suspicious in character. He had learned many things, and he hoped to learn more this evening. On the present occasion, however, he appeared in Martin Dale’s customary fastidious garb, and there was nothing doubtful about his manner of approach. Carrying himself like a man fith a clear purpose and a mind that harboured no questionable designs, he ascended the steps and rang the bell. A wait followed. Not a sound came f: 'om the interior. The windows look!ag out upon the street were darkened. An air of gloom and mystery hung over the old-fashioned house. Possibly the police had finished their 'nvestigation by this time. It was Probable the body had been removed. |hat the house would soon resume its humdrum and colourless existence, hlut in the next house, Dale knew-, there sat a grieving old mau w-hose. faith had been cruelly shattered.

He rang again. Then he leaned over the stoop and looked at the windows of the adjoining house. Through a shade on the second floor shone a faint glimmer. The rest of the house was as dark as the oue before which he was standing. Doubtless it was behind the one lighted window that Ferryman was spending the darkest hours of his life, grieving over a memory that had ended in stark tragedy. “Poor fellow,” Dale thought. Then his reflections broke off. Footfalls sounded within the door. A light shone through the fanlight above. The door was opened cautiously and a grey head appeared in the opening. “Good evening, Axelson,” said Dale pleasantly. The old caretaker gave a startled mutter, as if surprised that a stranger should know his name. In a casual way Dale inserted a foot in the narrow opening. With no apparent exertion of force he widened the opening and stepped inside, then closed the door behind him. “What do you want?” Axelson demanded ungraciously'. A grey,-mottled pallor hung over his lean face, but his eyes were sharp and penetrating. “I am looking for Dr. Moffett,” Dale announced, coming forward a little. “He lives here, doesn’t he?” “Dr. Moffett?” Axelson spoke the name as if he had never heard it until now. He shook his bent, grizzled head. “No, you’re mistaken. No one by that name lives here.” "This is No. 262 Bank Street, isn’t it?”

“IN THIS VERY ROOM” “Yes, but there’s no Dr. Moffett here. If you’re looking for a doctor, you will find one a few doors- down the block.” “I am looking for Dr. Moffett,” said Dale, his voice pleasant but firm, “and I know he lives here. At any rate, he was living here yesterday. A certain young lady called on him.” The old caretaker’s head jerked back a little. For an instant his eyelids drew together over a look of trepidation. It vanished quickly, but Dale’s alert senses had registered it. “You’re mistaken,” said Axelson curtly. “No Dr. Moffett has ever lived here, and no young lady has set foot within this house in years.'* “The mistake is yours, Axelson,” Dale declared amiably. “Don’t take offence, please. Everybody’s memory slips a cog now and then. The young lady in question called here yesterday morning. Unless I am mistaken” —and Dale moved forward briskly as he spoke—“ Dr. Moffett interviewed her in this very room.” With a hoarse cry of indignation, the old servant sprang after him, but he was a moment too late. Dale was already inside the library, and in a few seconds he had found the switcli that flashed a clear, white light over the room. It shone in the servant’s furlowed face, greyishly pale with frustration and anger, and caused him to blink his sunken eyes as he glared at Dale. “This is an outrage, sir!” he declared. “What do you mean?” “Please close the door,” said Dale and Axelson did so with habitual obedience. “I wish to ask you a few questions.” “I won’t have it, sir.” The old caretaker drew himself up. There was a certain dignity about him cs he squared his shoulders within the frayed and faded frock coat he wore, a dignity suggestive of a well-trained butler. “Unless you leave this room instantly I shall call the police.”

“Do, by all means,” said Dale suavely. He was moving leisurely about the room, examining various objects, and giving particular attention to the lighting fixtures. “The police will be interested to know how you attend to your duties.” “What do you mean?” There was a trace of surly defiance in the servant’s voice. “I mean that you are a Axelson, and that you are in league with rascals. Doctor Moffett is one of them. Contrary to your master's wishes, and unbeknown to him, you are giving Dr. Moffett the use of the house for his crooked game. I know all about it. Suppose I tell the police?” Axelson shrugged. “Tell them! You can’t prove anything.” Dale, pausing in his movements about the room, gave him a level look. He asked himself again, as he had many times during the afternoon, how certain recent activities within the house could have been possible without the caretaker’s connivance. Yet he was not blind to the circumstances, pointed out by Summers during luncheon, that it was Axelson himself who had reported some of these mysterious developments to his master. He might have done so, Of course, to throw dust in Mr. Ferryman’s eyes and make a show of innocence and faithful service. Dale decided to try another chance shot. “You may be right, Axelson. Soma tilings are hard to prove. But there is oue little matter the police would be greatly interested to hear about, and that concerns Miss Conway.” WHO IS MISS CONWAY ?

Dale watched him with keen eyes as he spoke. The effect Of his words exceeded his most extravagant expectations. Axelson recoiled as -from a physical blow. A mask seemed to drop from his. face, revealing a countenance hideously scarred by an evil conscience. He pulled himself together with a readiness that excited Dale’s admiration, but the latter had seen enough. “Conway—Miss Conway?” Axelson was searching his memory. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard the name.” “You’re a liar, Axelson,” said Dale suavely. “Miss Conway is the woman who was murdered in this house last night.” “Oh, you mean Mrs. Ferryman!” His dissimulation was so perfect that again Dale’s admiration was aroused. “Yes, Mrs. Ferryman, alias Miss Conway. The two were one, and you know it.” “That’s ridiculous, sir!” “It’s the truth. Don’t lie, Axelson. Miss Conway or Mrs. Ferryman, was in cahoots with Dr. Moffett, and you served them both, betraying your master. “It would serve you jolly well right if I should step over in the next house and report your treachery to Mr. Ferryman.” Axelsom’s face sagged. The defiance was gone from it in an instant. “I wouldn’t do that, sir. Poor Mr. Ferryman has suffered enough. If you go to him with talk like that, it will just about kill him. It isn’t true, of course, and there never was any Doctor Moffett as far as I know, but it would give Mr. Ferryman a shock just the same, and in his present condition he can’t stand it. “You see, he has never believed that his wife was a bad woman—just frivolous and a bit foolish. Why not let him go on thinking that way? His memory of Ler is all, that he has left, and you might leave him that, instead of making ugly and false insinuations.” Dale marvelled. He was firmly con-

vinced now that Axelson was a scoun- j drel, but this plea seemed to reveal j another side of his character, a sense \ of devotion and loyalty to the man , he had decieved. It was either that, or else Axelson was playing a very subtle and crafty game and he w*as playing it to perfection! Dale pretended acquiescence. “Very well. I shan’t go to Mr. Ferryman just now. I don’t relish the idea of destroying the poor devil’s illusions. For the present he may go on thinking that his wife was a good .woman and that you are a trustworthy servant. In return I expect a few candid and truthful answers from you.” “Yes, sir,” said Axelson humbly.

* “Who is Dr. Moffett?” “I never heard of him, sir. I swear it. It’s honest truth.” “You know there has been a great deal of trespassing in this, house, don’t you?” “I’ve noticed something of that sort, but nothing definite. Things have disappeared from time to time, and I’ve heard footsteps and doors closing and opening in the night, just as I told Mr. Ferryman, but that’s absolutely all.” “You’re forgetting the green light.” “Yes, sir, that’s right. Only the other night, when I opened the door to see what was going on, a green light was turned on me. It sort of dazzled me. And that same thing has happened several times.” “You have no idea where it comes from?” “None at all, sir. It’s the queerest thing!” “You know nothing about a certain individual who appears to possess the faculty of rendering himself invisible?” “Invisible?” Axelson’s lips dangled open. “You are joking now, sir.” AXELSON EXPLAINS Dale dropped tdie' subject. “Well,

let’s hear what you know about Miss Conway. _ Don’t tell me you didn’t know that Miss Conway and Mrs. i Ferryman were the same person, because when I first mentioned her name you were so startled I could have knocked you down with a feather.” > Axelson appeared acutely distressed. ‘ He fidgeted, shifted his weight from ! one foot to the other, and mopped the perspiration from his forehead. Gradually he grew calmer. A semblance of his former dignity came ' back.

“You did surprise me, sir,” he con- < fessed. “I thought I was the only man alive who knew about that. The police haven’t got an inkling of the fact. Mr. Ferryman hasn’t, either. I don't see how you got. hold of the secret.” “Never mind that. How long had Miss Conway, or Mrs. Ferryman, been back in town?” “Only a few months, sir.” “How did it happen Mr. Ferryman never saw her during those months?” “Because she kept out of his sight. You see, there w r ere reasons ” “Well, go on.” Axelson swallowed hard. Again he straightened his bent figure and fixed his interlocutor with a look of feeble defiance. “I’ve said enough—too much, maybe. I’ve nothing more to tell. I’ve sunk pretty low, I guess, but there’s a limit. I’ve got a few shreds of honour left, and I am hanging on to them. You can do your damnedest, sir, but I won’t say any more.” Dale viewed him with amazement. Again the question came back—was Axelson a man with a dual nature, a blend of good and wickedness, or a consummate scoundrel? “You mean you can’t say more without violating a confidence?” “It’s worse than that, sir.” “And you still insist there is no such person as Doctor Moffett?” “If there is, I’ve never heard of him or seen him.”

Dale was at a loss how to proceed. All he had gained was confirmation of the theory suggested by Miss Castle, that Miss Con-way and Mrs. Ferryman had been one and the same person. The mystery of her return and the events that led up to her death appeared securely locked up -within Axelson’s grizzly head. He knew no more about Doctor Moffett than he had known before. His

search for the explanation of the green light had been fruitless. His forehead puckered in thought. Absently he glanced along the wood panelling at one side of the room. Suddenly his rovnig eyes paused and contracted. Was there a flaw in the woodwork or could it mean

The opening of the door scattered his thoughts. He turned quickly away from the object of his contemplation. In the doorway stood a tall, white-faced man with a stricken look in his eyes. His dignified garb hung loosely about a figure that appeared to have suddenly lost all its elasticity. For a little he stood there, gazing about him in a weary and somewhat near-sighted manner, and then his eyes fixed on Dale with a more or less questioning expression. “Who is this gentleman?” he inquired of Axelson. “I don’t know-, Mr. Ferryman. He hasn’t told me his name. He has been inquiring about a Doctor Moffett.” “Doctor Moffett?” The name fell in slack and lifeless tone 3 from Mr. Ferryman’s lips. He shook his head. “You may go, Axelson. I’ll attend to this gentleman.” Axelson departed, but at the door lie paused for a moment, and his eyes signalled a message to Dale. A slight nod was the response. With a dragging step Mr. Ferryman came forward and surveyed the vtsitor with lusterless eyes. The inspection seemed to satisfy him. “Axelson told me you were inquiring for some one,” he said, courteously, but in a flat and tired voice. “I am sorry to intrude at a time like this, Mr. Ferryman,” Dale assured him. “I have heard of your bereavement. I had no intention of disturbing you. In fact, I didn’t expect to find you here. It was my impression that you lived next door. My name, by the way, is Dale.” “Sit down, Mr. Dale,” said the older man gently. “You need not apologise. As a matter of fact, this is the first time in nearly four years that I have set foot inside this house.” He sighed heavily. “Whom were you inquiring for?” “A certain Dr. Moffett.”

“Moffett —Moffett?” Mr. Ferryman shook his finely shaped head. “No. I never heard the name before. What led you to think you would find him here?” Dale considered for a moment, and he decided to be at least partially

frank. “I realise this is no time to inflict other people's tribulations on you, Mr. Ferryman, but it is a rather pressing matter. A certain young lady had an unpleasant interview with this Doctor Moffett yesterday morning, and she has reason to believe that the interview took place in this house.” Mr. Ferryman opened his sorrowful eyes inquiringly. "She thinks it took place here. I don’t understand.” “Strange as it may seem, she was brought to the scene of the interview in a manner that made it impossible tor her to discover the address. Shu is almost positive that this is the house, however.” “Very strange. There is no Doctor Moffett here. There never has been, as far as I am aware. Who is the young lady, - if I may ask?” Dale hesitated briefly. He had not been entirely frank so far. He knew positively that this was the house in which Adele Castle had met Doctor Moffett, but to say so would involve endless explanation. He could see no harm, however, in replying with candour to the last question. “Her name is Miss Adele Castle.” Mr. Ferryman was surprised. “Not a relative of Virgil Ellsworth Castle?” “His daughter.” “Dear me! And Miss ..Castle thinks she met Doctor Moffett here? Most extraordinary! She must be mistaken. It doesn’t seem possible. But. wait! Axelson tells me a number of strange things have been going on here —trespassing, thieving, mysterious sounds in the night. But you say this was in the daytime?” “About 10 o’clock yesterday morning.” (To be Continued Tomorrow.)