THE SOLUTIONS OF RADFORD SHONE.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9017, 2 January 1908, Page 2

THE SOLUTIONS OF RADFORD SHONE.

BEING NARRATIVES BY OFFICERS OF THE CRIMINAL INVESTIGATION DEPARTMENT, AND OF THE PROVINCIAL POLICE, IN RESPECT OP DEALINGiS WITH THE EMINENT EXPERT, MR RADFORD SHONE.

CHAPTER Xll.—Continued,

Communicated to and edited by ItllLli. [Published By Special Arrangement.] [All Rights Reserved.]

"You were so open with the 013 villain," he protested. "I don't understand police methods, but Shone would have tackled him in a very different way." " What would he have done?" I inquired politely. "Oh, he would have pitched him ! some yarn and drawn him out a bit. You hardly seemed to appreciate—pardon my saying so, inspector that my poor friend is either dead or in very grave peril at the instance of that monster of iniquity." "On the contrary, 1 appreciate Mr Radford Shone's peril to the fullest extent," I made answer. "It may be more imminent than even you imagine, Mr Martin. We will now proceed to Somerset House and see if Mr Myland Shone can shed any light on his brother's disappearance." But when we reached the Probate Registry a check was in store for us. . The gentleman we had come to question was not at his post, and the information which I gathered from his fellow-clerks added greatly to Martin's anxiety. Myland Shone had received a telegram shortly after arriving at the office that morning, in consequence of which he obtained leave of absence for two days and had immediately gone away. The reason he had given had been that he had to go into the country to identify some clothing that was 'believed tn belong to a relative, and which had been found in a position that suggested a fatal accident. On this I saw the chief of the department, and learned that this was correct - and also the additional fact that the place to which Mr Myland Shone had been summoned was Freshwater, in the ilsle of Wight. The telegram was from the local police. Martin followed my interrogations with open-eyed and open-mouthed consternation. By the timrt we had got ou*"> into the Strand again the suggestion that some dire misfortune had befallen his friend had reduced him almost to tears. "That fiend MalWndine has done poor Shone!" he whimpered. "What do you propose to do about it, inspector? Arrest that old schemer in Saville street?" "I must have some evidence against him first," I said, glancing at my watch. is a train from Waterloo in three-quarters of #n hour. If you will get over the bridge to the terminus I will join you there and we will run down to the Wight together. I must pop round to the Yard first and let them know what I'm ud to." When, a little later, I mat him m the booking-office, he was more doleful than ever, and we negotiated the four hours' journey in alternate fits of moody silence and noisy lamentation on the part of my travelling companion. l Never in my life had I been subjected to so many silly questions in such a short space of time, and, if for that reason only, I was heartily gllad when the coach from Yarmouth set ua down at the principal hotel in the picturesque little village at the back of the Island. Mr Samuel Martin was for at once questioning the hotel people as to any fatality that had occurred in the neighbourhood, but, preferring to do police business in police v ways, I insisted that we should make our first inquiries of the local constable. It is the fashion to deride ' these humble custodians of His Majesty's peace as lacking in intelligence, but I have always found that, proparly handled, they can rise to the occasion. The Freshwater constable, who fortunately lived near the hotel, had a story to tell, and told it lucidly enough. Coming to the door of his cottage, ha pointed to the landward side of the lofty downs whose seaward face is a sheer precipice, running down six hundred feet from the brink into five fathums of water. At the highest point the great stone cross or the 'i ennyson memorial cuts the sky-line. "It was up there last night that the coastguard made the discovery, sir," said the constable. "He was on his rounds along the top of the downs to the Needles, when, close to > the Memorial and not three feet from the edge of the cliff he found a gentleman's oveocoat and a cloth cap. There was considerable disturbance in the turf at the spot, which looked as if there had been a struggle. In one of the pockets of the coat there was a letter, scamped roady for post and addressed to Myland Shone, Esquire, at Somerset House, London; so on the matter being reported to me, I sent him a wire the first thing this morning." "Has he arrived?" I asked. . "Yes, sir; be eiossed by the midday boat and 13 putting up at the hotel," was the reply. "He has identified the coat as belonging to his brother, Mr Radford Shone, a wellknown private detective." " jJ ies the letter throw any light , on thy occurrence?" I continued. "Nono whatever; it simply stated that the writer was detained here on business, and would not l-etunr to London for a day or two," the confltaWe replied. And he went on to say\that boats had been round to the base of the cliff to search for the IxKly, but entirely without result. This was only Lo be e;; peeled, since even at low tide there was deep water close in sho-e, and anyone thrown or fallen over would have been carried away by the swirling current. ,I ! n reply to a further question the countable stated that no one answering to the description furnished by MrlMylar.d Shone could be traced as havirig stayed at any of the hotels or lodging-nouses in the neighbourhood. \ Thanking for his infor-

mation I turned away to return to the hotel, but after enduring the first outbreak of woe from Martin, who had listened all agape to the conversation, I bade my companion stay where he was for a minute, and ran back to the cottage, where I obtained from the policeman the description which Mr Myland Shone had given of his brother. Never having set eyes on the great Radford, it interested me much. "Now," I said on rejoining t' disconsolate Martin, "we wiil go anu condole with the bereaved relative and learn his views." We made our way back to the hotel, and on entering the hall a little ahead of Martin 1 observed a chubby, rose-cheeked littie man, who was examining a map on the wull with the air of one who finds time hang heavily on his hands. He tallied exactly with the impression the constable had just given me of the person<ility of Mr Myland Shone. "Is that your missing friend or his brother?" I asked,' pointing out the lounger to Martin. "That!" he exclaimed with loyal indignation. "Why, he's no more like Radford Shone than I am. It is j his brother Myland, though—the chap we want to see. What on earth could . make you think it was Radford, I wonder." "Never mind that," 1 replied, experiencing the curious thrill of satisfaction, which I always feel when coming to close grips with my case. "Introduce me to the gentleman, please, not forgetting to mention my profession and rank m the force." Myland Shone heard our entrance, and now turned towards us. Keenly alive to the value of surprise in certain situations, 1 watched him narrowly as his gaze passed me blankly by to settle on his brother's sleeping partner. I was almost sure that there was a trace of annoyance not unmingled with alarm, in his recognition of Mr Samuel Martin. If so it was gone in an instant, and it was with a solemnity befitting the occasion that he came forward to meet us. "You have heard the terrible news, then?" he said in a rolling bass voice that was singular by contrast with his diminutive size. As he shook hands he kept glancing interrogatively at me. "This gentleman, Chief Inspector Mitford of the Criminal Investiga- [ tion Department, got on to it," replied Martin, with a queer note of apology. It was as if he wished to , repudiate responsibility, being conscious of a sort of sacrilege in having broken the great Radford's injunctions, even in an effort lo save or avenge him. 11 (To be continued).