NO WOMAN'S LAND

Wairarapa Times-Age, 4 July 1938, Page 10

NO WOMAN'S LAND

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT

COPYRIGHT

BY

JANE ENGLAND

(Author of “Sjambok,” “Trader’s License,” &c.)

CHAPTER VII. (Continued.)

“After some conversation between the two parties, Nella Howard being upset, and no decision come to, a farmer called Hanslow and a Dutchman called Groenwald arrived. They had seen the -glare and thought that it was a veld fire. Shortly after that a native with his piccanin arrived from the kraal. The piccanin was employed by the Howards to herd cattle. He stated that he had taken the cattle home at sundown and had heard loud and angry voices in Howard’s hut. He had been frightened and ran away to the kraal, when he said nothing at first. But later a shot was heard, and then they saw the glare of the fire. The natives did not go to the huts, as they were afraid.

“Later Mrs Hastings took away the girl, Nella Howard, and after that Mr Hastings sent a native to the camp. I then interviewed the piccanin, who said that two days ago—that would be May 10th —Archibald—er—Mr Fellowes had a bad quarrel .with Howard, and he also said that he thought one of the voices in the hut last night was that of Mr Fellowes. I discovered that the first quarrel was authenticated by the evidence of a native who happened to be passing the homestead. I also discovered that Mr Fellowes had been visiting the Howards for some time past, and frequently took the girl out riding. I discovered that no strange

white man had been seen anywhere near the Howards’ farm. The evidence of Hanslow. and .Groenwald was quite clear. This morning I rode over to the Hastings' house at Bloots Mine in order to interview Nella Howard. I was obstructed in my duty by Mr Hastings and his wife, and the girl’s behaviour was suspicious. She denied that Mr Fellowes had quarrelled with her father, and was plainly aware that murder might have been ” Wentworth interrupted sharply. “Murder? There’s no conceivable proof of murder at the moment. And you had no right to attempt to get any sort of information from the girl against her will.” Carfrae rustled his papers. “Yes, Hudson,” he said, “you overstepped the mark.” “The shot,” said Wentworth, “might have been anything—a farmer shooting at baboons, at a leopard—anything. Who examined the charred corpse? Was there a doctor?” Here he looked gloomily and steadily at Major Carfrae, who said sharply: “There was no doctor..”.

“Oh, well,” said Wentworth. “We can always dig it up again. Any sign of a bullet?”

Major Carfrae looked fastidious. “If the charge of murder stands,” said Wentworth, “the body ippst be examined by a doctor. It had better be done at once. If you don’t mind, sir, I’ll telephone Major. Sinclair and get him to send down Dr Weir right away.” . “Certainly, certainly,” said Carfrae. After all, he thought angrily, he had fetched this man down here himself, and he must back him up in every way.

“Did you,” said Wentworth to Hudson, “search around the burnt huts within a possible radius for a spent bullet?” “I haven’t had time to do everything,” said Hudson gruffly. “You should have,” said Wentworth, “because a sensible murderer, if he had the opportunity, would probably do just that. And he would have the advantage of you in that he would know the direction of the shot. Mr Fellowes, quite obviously, would have had no opportunity to do that, except, shall we say, while the funeral was taking place. You did not leave anyone on guard near the burnt huts, I gather?” “Then you do think it was Fellowes?” said Hudson eagerly. “I don’t think anything at all,” said Wentworth. “I’m simply pointing out to you that you have no proof of murder at all. A man who is known—l think I am right, sir?” he appealed to Major Carfrae, “to drink himself silly, is found in a burned hut. A man, who has, again according to a piccanin, quarrelled with him, finds the fire.

But there is no bullet, nothing. There is no proper examination of the corpse. And after that, there is an attempt to bully the dead map’s daughter, an attempt, if I understand you rightly, Hudson, to fix an unsavourly love affair on the dead man’s child, on what? On the evidence of a piccanin! This Mr Hastings, you say, obstructed you. And what, may I ask, would any decent man do who saw that a girl who had just lost her father in a very unpleasant and tragic way was being bullied by a policeman? And how do you think all this would look in court, with a defending counsel?” “Quite,” said Carfrae, “quite. I must say that I think you have been very precipitate, Hudson. And I cannot understand why you should have attempted to force your way into the Hastings house. Most unwise.” “I suppose you’ll tell me next,” said Wentworth, “that you have detained the girl for questioning.” Carfrae went very red, and rubbed his moustache agitatedly. Hudson cast him a malevolent, but triumphant glance. “The girl,” said Hudson, “is down at Major Carfrae’s house. Major Carfrae thought it would be a good thing to keep her there. Mrs Carfrae took her down.”

Wentworth took his large nose between his thumb and forefinger and pulled it.

“Nothing could be better,” he said with a false heartiness. “The mere fact that Mrs Carfrae has so kindly looked after the girl will do a great deal to stop any unpleasant rumours. Hudson, get back to camp. I’ll see you there.” He coughed. “If Trooper Brown gets back from M’Taki kraal before I arrive, tell him, will you, that I shall not be long?”

“Quite, quite,” said Carfrae, for no reason at all. Hudson saluted sulkily, turned smartly, and marched out of the office. Wentworth pulled his long nose again. “I think, sir,” he said, “that if you would allow me to use your telephone, I can arrange for the doctor to come down now. And I think, too, that Corporal Hudson, would be more valuable to the police in Salisbury rather than out here in the country. His—er —undoubted gifts seem to me to be more suited to a town beat than a veld

patrol.” “I think so, too,’ said Carfrae. “I—I’ll get home, I think, Sergeant. When you have finished telephoning, perhaps you had better come to my house. There may be some arrangements to be made about accommodation for this unfortunate girl.” “Yes, sir,” said Wentworth mildly. I CHAPTER VIII. Hudson clumped back to the Police Camp. He pushed his hat far back on his head, and swore fluently under his breath. He was sure, quite genuinely, that Archie Fellowes had murdered Howard. Obvious! What he’d have done himself what any man would have done. And Carfrae, like all the rest of them, wouldn’t believe that one of his own sort could be human; and that’s why he went snivelling to headquarters. Well, even if that sarcastic swine Wentworth’was in with them, he, Hudson, would prove his case yet. There was no white man to come forward to deny anything that he, Hudson, said.

He stared ahead of him. The moon had not .yet touched the horizon, but the sun was completely gone, not even a lingering trace was left. The stars seemed Very low, close to the earth, as if one could catch them in a butterfly net; and they poured down a soft, diffused brilliance. The huts of the Police Camp were like beehives against the sky, and as Corporal Hudson looked at them, he saw that a car was standings there. Brown! Trooper Brown who had come down with Wentworth.

Now which Brown would that be? As for Wentworth, what headquarters saw in him, heaven alone knew. He’d been in the Service long enough. Why wasn’t he an officer, if he was such a pet with headquarters? But under his bombast, under the angry flurry of his thought, Hudson was afraid. He was afraid, as well as resentful. They were getting at him, doing him down. Carfrae, ‘and all that crowd. All Klinter’s Dorp. They were getting at him, just because he had the courage to accuse one of their own kind. When he got into the camp ■ and walked into the office, he found Fingall sitting at the table. Fingall was drawing dot-and-dash men on the blotting

paper, his face earnest and-withdrawn. He looked up at Hudson, and rose to his feet. “The witnesses from M’Taki kraal are in the goal, sir,” he said coldly. “They have had supper.” Hudson thrust his head forward like an angry bull, and the veins in his neck swelled almost to bursting point. “Have you been talking to them?” he demanded. Fingall shrugged his shoulders. “Certainly not. I suppose that Major Carfrae will want to see them tomorrow?” “Arr,” said Hudson rudely, and elbowed the boy out of the way. “I don’t want you any more,” he added, “but if a Trooper called Brown shows up, tell him that Sergeant Wentworth wants him down at the Magis-

trate’s office. That’s all.” Major Carfrae . walked quickly and nervously down the Kaffir track that led from his office to his house. It was only a short distance, and he saw that both lamps were lit in the house; one in the drawing-room, and the other in the dining-room. That annoyed him. He hated to have lamps lit unnecessarily. If you were sitting in the draw-ing-room, it was quite unnecessary to have the lamp on in the dining-room at the same time. It was too bad of Irene! She knew how he felt about it. He did hope that she had not been tactless enough to put the Howard girl into the dining-room all alone, as if the child were a pariah. As he walked up on to the stoep, he heard Dolly Hasting’s voice; clear, as usual, and with that slightly derisive

note in it that he so mistrusted. ‘fl think it is awfully nice of you, Mrs Carfrae,” Dolly was saying, “to have Nella here, because, of course, she is right on the spot, and we are so far away. I am sure that Nella thinks so too.” “Oh Lord!” thought Carfrae, ‘this is too much! This is really too much, and it must be stopped at once.” He went quickly across to the stoep, and into the drawing room., Dolly Hastings was there and so was her husband. Nella Howard was perched uncomfortably and awkwardly in a high chair. Hastings was lounging back and smoking; his wife sat with her knees crossed, a most alarming glint in her eyes. And Mrs Carfrae was sitting in an easy chair. And her face was compressed into a mask of anxiety. “Oh, Angus,” she said, as soon as she saw him, “I’m so glad you’ve come! Do tell us. What is the news?” Wentworth stood quite still for a minute after Hudson and Major Carfrae had gone. Then someone moved outside the office, and a small man, with bright blue eyes and red hair, a Tommy Atkins, in every line of his body, came into the hut He hitched up his belt, and said “It’s orl right, sir. The headman says that the piccanin came back to the kraal about four o’clock in the afternoon. He reckons, that head man, that the piccanin got tired of herding them cattle, and wanted a rest, like. So the pic-’I canin couldn’t have heard any rows or*

lahd voices at Howard’s plice at sundown.”

“Did they hear a shot at the proper times?” asked Wentworth. “They heard a shot, sir, so they says, and direckly after, they saw the fire, so they says. It was after the fire sir, that that piccanin hupped and told his story, sir. Because it was just after that there - fire started that his father saw him. The piccanin had been lyin’ low, like, but the conflagration, as you might say, was too much for him. He hopped out to have a look, and his old man bomba-ed him, and the blinking little kid made up a yarn.” Wentworth picked up the telephone received. “I do not ask, Brown,” he said pensively, “how you managed to learn

Chiswina with such a pure fluency. Considering the appalling mess you make of your own language, I can only say that it is one of the inscrutable blessings of Providence that enables you to be so—shall we say?—au fait with a native tongue. Yes, exchange, it is Salisbury I want, and police headquarters.” “Hullo. I want to speak to Major Sinclair. Wentworth speaking, sir. Can you send Doctor Weir down straight away? I’d like him to have a look at Howard’s remains. Yes, the funeral was this afternoon, but we can dig him up. Yes, sir, I do think that it’s necessary. Why? Hudson is trying to hand a man called Archibald Fellowes, and I am quite sure in my own mind that he didn’t do it. There’s a modicum of evidence that might conceivably be strengthened, especially if anyone was to get .at M’Taki. What did you say, sir?” A faint smile touched his melancholy face. Hold on a minute, sir, please.” He put his hand over the mouthpiece, and spoke to Brown. “Buzz off,” he said. “Like all the King’s horses and all the King's men, march to the top of the nearest hill, and then march down again.”

“0.K.” said Brown. “I mean, yes, sir.” He saluted smartly, and went out. As the sound of Brown’s retreating footsteps became fainter, Wentworth took his hand off the mouthpiece. (To be Continued.)