JEWELS OF MALICE
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Author o* “ The JiptnaM Pmrasoi " * Tbe Girl «d Yellow ~ - Tbp Solder. - etc.. nc.
ELLIOT BAILEY
CHAPTER XVI AU the way home Bruce let his injured foot trail over the side in the cool water, and after another hopping effort when they reached their destination, Nancy and Mrs. Rugely between them bandaged It more thoroughly, and presently he was sitting with it raised, as he put it, like a gouty old gentleman’s on a chair. But he felt no amusement at all when he considered the narrowness of their escape. Bruce was demolishing a thoughtful tea when, to his delight, Cosgrove appeared, having walked over from Herringford on the chance of finding his friend. As soon as she saw Bruce eomfortably settled, Nancy slipped across to the Mill House to And out if there had been any unorthodox visitors in her absence, and although she slipped back to report all O.K. there, she had not stayed, not wishing to leave her aunt alone too long. With Mrs. Rugely engaged on some laundry work in the back premises, the two men could talk freely, and Bruce at once launched into an account of the afternoon’s adventure, to which the C.I.D. man listened with serious attention. “By jove,” he said, when Bruce had finished, “I think the Yard had better take this up officially, Lorimer. There seems no doubt from what you say that this fellow meant to knock you on the head—probably both of you—and then search you for the jewels.” u "No doubt at all,” Bruce answered. 'Moreover, he’d have found them. Nancy—Miss Hylton—had them in her handbag. I wish you would tackle it officially. Prank. It’s evident that as long as she has that infernal necklace Miss Hylton will go in danger of her life unless something "“tic is done to prevent it. I can’t think what possessed that old fool, James Baxter, to leave her the legacy U “uer such conditions.” 11 8 a funny business all round," the detective admitted. "More in it than we think, perhaps. Anyway, I’ll go up to town tomorrow and consult my chief.” ’That’s awfully good of you, Cosgrove. I’m afraid it kiboshes your “outlay pretty badly, but—” Stuff and nonsense!” the other interjected. “This change to sea air is all i want, and I’d far rather have foojotttluK interesting to do than be wanng away the days aimlessly on Herringford front. As you say, too, miss Hylton needs looking after — ts badly. Think you’d know "lighter who attacked you again?” „. 1 might,” was the doubtful reply, . although he lost his beard those dark glasses over his eyes were a
pretty good disguise. He disguised his voice as well, of course, though he couldn’t hide his Yankee accent. It was that which made me vaguely suspicious of him. It didn’t seem to fit in somehow. Perhaps he’ll give himself away. He was a bit of a fool, surely, to make the attack in broad daylight?” But Cosgrove showed his dissent. “On the contrary, I think it shows we’ve a very cool and daring customer to deal with. Doubtless he had ascertained that no one was about, and after striking you down he could quickly have got you both out of sight behind the rocks, where you might have lain undiscovered for hours. And there are others in with him—there were three in that launch, remember. You’d better hand me over that brown paper parcel and beard, Lorimer—there might be finger-marks on the former.” But Bruce shook his head. “I douht it; he wore thin gloves. It was one of the things I noticed about him.” “Ah, well, one learns to expect little setbacks like that. Anyway, I’ll set the ball rolling in earnest tomorrow.” “What about Gregory?” Bruce asked. “Won’t he claim that he ought to be consulted?” “He may claim it,” was the dry response. “All the same, I don’t think we will consult him, ~t present, at any rate. I’m not too enamoured of Mr. Joseph Gregory. Where’s Sam Rugely, by the way?" The question was answered by Mrs. Rugely, who appeared at that moment to clear away the tea things. She, of course, had been told nothing of the afternoon's happenings—merely that Bruce had slipped on a rock and hurt his foot. “Being along the cliffs as you were, Mr. Lorimer,” she observed, “you ought to have seen something of my Sam. He were a-getting birds’* eggs.” “He told me he was going to,” Bruce said, “but we didn’t see anything of him. Perhaps he was farther along the cliffs.” Mrs. Rugely seemed doubtful. “Maybe,” she admitted, “but Sam don’t care to walk far when it comes to it. Funny as you didn’t see him.” She went out frowning. It was evident that a faint tinge of suspicion was tainting the soul of Mrs. Rugely. Cosgrove was to remember this later. He stayed some time with Bruce, going over everything that had happened from the very beginning, for he wished to be properly primed when he saw his chief next day. Then, taking with him the lead tubing and the beard that had been washed off Ben Sayers’s face in the pool, he started back for Herringford. It was late when he reached it, and as he was passing the station the crowds from the returning half-day excursion began to pour out from it. Cosgrove regarded them without much interest, but all at once he started and became alert. For among the crowd, peering furtively this way and that, was the red, unprepossessing visage of Sam Rugely. “So that’s where you’ve been all day, my lad,” the detective muttered. Without more ado, he effaced himself in a convenient doorway and waited, and when in due course Sam came along he stretched out his hand and touched him on the shoulder. “Hullo, Sam,” he said quietly, “had a nice time in London?” CHAPTER XVII. Taken utterly by surprise, Sam jumped as if he had been shot. His jaw dropped, and he stared at the detective as if he had been an apparition. “For Gawd’s sake, guv’nor,” he ejaculated, “don’t tell the missus!” Cosgrove laughed. Without realising it at the moment, Sam had said absolutely the best thing from his point of view that he could have said. It put the C.I.D. man right oft the scent, and stopped him asking the searching questions regarding Rugely’s outing that he might otherwise have done. “You’re a bad lad, Sam,” he said, facetiously, "telling Mrs. Rugely that
you’re going after birds’ eggs, and then gallivanting off for a bust in town. Oh, well, I won’t give you away—but you’ll have to explain to her why you haven’t any eggs!” Sam grinned a sickly grin. “That’s just what was a-worrying me as I came along,” he admitted. “I guess I'll ’ave to go and buy a few off a pal o’ mine in ’Erringford. It won’t do to go ’ome without none.” Cosgrove laughed again. “Well, I refuse to be made a party to that particular 1 felony,” he said. “So long, Sam —and mind your step!” He strode off, while Sam gazed after him with a ruminative eye. “Not a bad sort for a ‘busy’,” he muttered, “though he did give me a turn when he spoke to me. Good thing as ’e didn’t ask me what I ’ad bin doing in London, too!” But what was uppermost in his mind just then was the necessity for throwing dust in. the eyes of Mrs. Rugely, and after another moment or two’s thought he made his way to the fishermen’s quarter of the town, where —for a consideration —he obtained a not unsatisfactory quantity of eggs from a man who like himself eked out a scanty livelihood by robbing nests in season. Armed with these, he then proceeded home. There, awaiting his arrival, his wife was in the mood to be inquisitorial, but the sight of what she took to be the result of his day’s trek mollified her, and she even gave him grudging praise. “Well, you ain’t got such a bad lot this time,” she admitted, “so there’ll be an extra kipper for your supper tonight. I expect you can do with it after all that walking.” “Not ’alf!” exclaimed the reprobate. He had contrived to do himself fairly well in the Town, but he was always ready for a meal. Munching his augmented rations, his mind went back to what he had achieved in -London and it struck him that the trip had certainly been worth taking. He had gone straight down to Whitechapel to the mean street where Matthew Weinberg—Matthew, the Fence —had lived in the days before Sam’s “regeneration,” and to his delight had found him still in his old quarters. Matthew, on his side, had welcomed him with surprise and cordiality. “Hello, Tham,” he lisped, “I thought you’d joined the Thalvation Army, or thomething, from all accourith!” Sam made a grimace.
“Don’t you never get married, Matthew,” he enjoined. “You’ll find it cramps yer -style.’’ Matthew —as unpleasant a denizen of the East End as one was likely to find in a day’s march —cackled derisively. “Twenty yearth ago, Tham, I wath married. Then —my vife ran avay, and I didn’t go and look for her.” He regarded his visitor with shrewd, hard eyes. “What for you come again, Tham? To do a little bithneth, eh —a little bithneth?” Sam was cautious. “Look here, Matthew,” he said, “could you take on a big job—-some-thing bigger than you’ve ever done through me before —something running into thousands?” ~ The old fence’s eyes glittered. “Thouthanth, eh?” 'he grunted. “That ith big, very big for you, Tham.” “All the same,” the other grated, “I can pull it off —if it’s not too big for you to handle this end.” Again came the fence’s twisted grin, exposing a few ugly yellow fangs in a mouth that was sadly in need of renovation. “Nothing Ith too big to handle thlth end, Tham,” he asserted. “I have done thmall bithneth vith you before he cauthe you have brought me thmall bithneth, but I deal vith big bithneth, too. Thuppoth you tell me all about it, Tham.”
Whereupon Sam had gone as much into detail as he thought fit. “They’re the finest shiners I ever see,” he said hoarsely, “but you’ll liav<> to hide me somewhere about here if I get them for you, Matthew.” The fence nodded. “That vill be eathy,” he declared. “I vill ’ide you vere your own vife von’t find you, Tham!” Thus encouraged, Sam expanded still further, and the two beauties went more fully into ways and means which Sam turned over in his mind afresh as he started on his second kipper. “I guess I’d better get a move on, too,” he muttered, “before some of these other blokes gets in before me. That lawyer chap I don’t trust for one, and ”
He paused and listened. Footsteps were passing the cottage and Sam hopped from the table and' peered through the window under cover of the curtain.
He swore beneath his breath. Going by, at the very moment that he was in Sam’s mind, was Mr. Joseph Gregory. Sam swore again. Then abandoning his unfinished supper, he slipped quietly out of the house on the lawyer’s track. It led him through the woods in the direction of the Mill House, and when Sam realised this his face grew evil and he began to close up the distance between him and the man in front. CHAPTER XVIII. It was not long, however, before Sam Rugely came to the conclusion that this time he was on a wild-goose chase, for Mr. Joseph Gregory did not call at the Mill House after all. Indeed, he hardly glanced in its direction, continuing on toward Herring ford Court. For once, as a matter of fact, his thoughts were not on the jewels, being pleasurably engaged with recollections of Lady Courtney and the favourable impression he believed he had made upon her. It had struck him that he might find her taking the evening air in the grounds, and that, if seen, he might even be asked inside those sacred precincts. He therefore strode on hopefully. Sam, when he realised that the Mill House was not the lawyer’s objective, broke off the chase and returned home —to face the caustic comments of his wife, who was par-' donably annoyed at what she naturally regarded as his wanton abandonment of his second kipper. Sam, too, was inclined to regret his precipitancy when the remains of his kipper were delivered to the household cat. The days that followed Nancy’s memorable expedition with Bruce saw the latter’s foot slowly regaining the normal, and the girl playing tennis almost every afternoon at the court. There was no doubt of the attraction that she had for Basil Courtney, one that Sir Malcolm regarded with a sardonic interest, and certainly did nothing to check. Indeed, he made himself agreeable to Nancy himself, and under his eye Lady Courtney dropped some of her super-effusiveness and became more natural. Gradually, therefore, the girl’s feelings ohanged toward them, until by the time the day arrived that she was to dine there she had begun to regard them in the guise of friends. She was conscious of a feeling of disappointment, however, as she sat down at the table. From what Lady Courtney had said, she had expected a very smart function. Actually the only other guests besides herself were a rather dull couple—husband and wife —and Mr. Joseph Gregory. The latter had been disappointed over the nocturnal excursion which had cost Sam half his supper, but later on was thrilled to the marrow to receive a written invitation from Lady Courtney asking "him to dinner that evening. He was still more thrilled to find himself placed next to his hostess. Nancy looked in vain for the display of jewellery at which the latter had hinted. Lady Courtney herself was liberally bedecked, but that of the other lady guest was certainly more conspicuous for quantity than quality. Her own single string of marvellous emeralds was outstanding, and she regretted having worn it, since somehow it made her feel that she was conspicuous. Certainly she was aware that the other two women scarcely took their eyes off it; for Gregory, too, it seemed to have a potent fascination, while every now and then even Courtney’s hard eyes would stray in its direction. For Basil alone, who was next to her, it appeared to have no particular attraction, though that was doubtless because he was taken up with the wearer rather than with what she wore. But Courtney was a good host, and the meal passed pleasantly enough, and the longer it progressed the more evident it became that Basil Courtney was sinking more and more under the spell of Nancy’s charms. Possibly his father noticed this, for when the ladies had retired, and the men were left alone over their port and coffee, he managed to get in an aside to his son. “Why not take Miss Hylton out into the grounds?” he said meaningly. “It is a warm night, and the cliff path should be pleasant—and deserted.” The boy looked at him gratefully.
“Thanks, dad, I will,” he whispered. “If she’ll come.” “I hope she will,” the elder man said gravely, and for reasons of his own he meant it. It was a surprise to Nancy when presently, somewhat bashfully, Basil mooted the project. She, on her part, felt no attraction toward the somewhat heavy youth, and the prospect of a tete-a-tete in the garden with him did not thrill her in the least. Still, she was finding the drawing-room conversation somewhat boring and was not sorry for an excuse to get away from it. “Very well,” she said, “but we must not stay out long.” She blamed herself afterward for going at all, and certainly had she known what lay in wait for her outside in the darkness she would not have set a foot outside the house. But what qualms she had were in quite another direction. She was aware, of course—any girl would be—that Basil Courtney found
her attractive, and she was far from wanting tq undergo a declaration of the fact in the garden. Yet even while she wondered if anything of the kind was in his mind, she took herself to task for what she mentally termed her self-conceit. “Why, he’s only known me a week." she thought, “and the whole family must regard me as a penniless nonen tity”—once more she was forgetting the necklace, so unreal did that possession seem. “I’m just imagining what isn’t going to happen, and if I hesitate he’ll read what’s in my mind. So I’d better go!” She made no particular demur, therefore, but got her cloak and passed through the french windows with him on the lawn. Courtney watched their departure with inscrutable eyes. He seemed about to address some remark to Basil when his attention was drawn by a movement in the room. Mr. Joseph Gregory was approaching him in agi-
tated fashion, one hand resting on his waiscoat. “My dear sir,” he whispered. “1 must ask leave to withdraw —to proceed home. I regret I am not well. A —a bilious attack I thought I had thrown off is showing signs of—er — recurring. I apologise a thousand times. Perhaps I should not have come—but your kind lospitality was so alluring.” Courtney grinned. Mr. Joseph Gregory did not appeal to him to quite the same extent as apparently he did to his wife, and the situation struck him as amusing. “All right, my dear fellow. Sony and all that if you find you have to go. But I expect you know best.” He took his guest to the front door and saw him off himself, grinning again as he watched the lawyer, after more protestations, hurry away into the darkness. "Bilious! is he?” he muttered. "Just
as_ well to get him off the premises :u that case, I’m thinking!” He would have been surprised though could he have seen the move ments of Mr. Gregory as soon as he had closed the front door. The latter checked his hurrying walk. and. after a hasty glance round as if to get his bearings, disappeared into a clump of bushes. And there he waited (To be Continued Tomorrow.!
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/SUNAK19300723.2.13
Bibliographic details
Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 1031, 23 July 1930, Page 5
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3,082JEWELS OF MALICE Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 1031, 23 July 1930, Page 5
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