MURDER IN THE PROCESSION

Wairarapa Times-Age, 12 November 1938, Page 12

MURDER IN THE PROCESSION

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT COPYRIGHT.

BY

LESLIE CARGILL

(Author of “Death Goes by Bus.”)

CHAPTER IV. —Continued.

Altogether it seemed that the Baltnian Legation as the place of supreme importance, which increased the awkwardness of investigation considerably.

But Count Karel Vrenska was disarmingly accommodating. On a second visit from Captain Caythers he made no bones about understanding the reason for police interest in himself and his office.

“No necessity for standing on ceremohy,” he remarked. “For my part I waive all rights I possess and place myself unreservedly at your disposal.” “That is extremely good of you.” “Not at all. It would be a grave matter if diplomatic privilege was allowed to cloak nefarious activities. Ask me anything you wish, and do not fear that references to the old trouble will be regarded as offensive. My father, could he hear me, would be horrified at that. Yet I assure you that I never subscribed to many of the barbaric ideas my countrymen are now growing out of.”

The Assistant Commissioner felt himself at a disadvantage. “Suppose,” he said tentatively, “I discussed Sir Vincent Parminster’s progress after he left Baltnia—under a cloud, shall we say?” “Your general’s behaviour was undoubtedly open to criticism. As he was a young man in a strange country some allowances can be made. Of his subsequent movements I know very little until he acquired fame during the war.”

“Have you ever heard mention of a woman named Desire?” “No, I don’t think so.” “Go back carefully in your mind.”

“I am convinced that the name is strange. Of course I have heard of it as being fairly usftial in France. It is a country I know little about. The lady who ought to interest you was Irma Yskoida. He spoke it without a qualm. , . . “Very well, let us leave the subject. You know' that Parminster next went to Chundor?”

“Yes, I believe he did.” “Last week you called on a gentleman from Chundor.” “Raschandra— yes. With his four compatriots.” “Might I ask the reason?” “Unfortunately that is something I cannot tell. You see it happens to be concerned with my position here, and is in the nature of a state secret. Believe me, I’m sorry'to insist on this and can assure you it had nothing to do with Sir Vincent. We did not discuss him.” , “Thank you. Now we come to tne man Akebool.” . “A member of our staff, Captain. Oi course I know him well. He has been with us some years. Before I came to London.” . „ “Are you aware that he is a native ol Chundor?” , “Assuredly. What are you suggesting 9” “Nothing at all, Count Vrenska. I am, with your kind permission, merely making a few general inquiries. “Please be frank with me, for both our sakes.”

"Since you put it that way, I will. Parminster made himself very unpopular in many quarters. That you well know well. It is a painful task to have to cast slurs on the name of a brave soldier and a great public figure, but in view of the unpleasant end he came to these things cannot be avoided. At the same time I have to pry into other corners and cannot help noticing an unexpected connection between those who had reason to bear him ill.” Count Vrenska frowned slightly. “Thank you,” he remarked. “You put the position clearly. Evidently I am Uuspected of joining with political extremeists for the purpose of arranging an assassination —an extraordinary suggestion, surely?” “Admittedly. So is the killing of a famous man in public.” “Agreed. This is an awkward situation for all of us, and I don’t envy you your task. Would it be any use my giving a solemn assurance that I have no inside knowledge of the occurrence?”

“Between gentlemen that would be quite sufficient,” the Assistant Commissioner said quietly. “Then you have my word, though I detect an underlying reservation in your remark.” Captain Caythers let this pass. To all appearances he had accepted the disclaimer. With a disarming show of casualness he strolled across to the window and looked down into the busy street.

“An interesting view,” the Court observed. “It was from this window I watched the passage of the procession. By the way, we had quite a number of others present at the time. That fact may interest you.” “Including Akebool?” “No, he was not present. Why not have a talk with him?” “Excellent idea, with your permission.”

“But of course. Anything I can do to help you will be a pleasure. Put that down to pure selfishness. Ido not like to feel under a cloud.” He pressed a bell push and gave instructions to a servant who entered. Akebool came a few minutes afterwards, a well-built man of medium stature with the typical hawk nose and flashing eyes of the Chundoran native. He smiled easily, revealing a mouthful of glistening teeth. Although expressing surprise at a request to answer all questions put to him he obeyed with commendable freedom.

Caythers was disappointed at the result. Again he was confronted' with the quiet fanaticism which had kept the other Indians away from the procession. Akebool insisted that he had not even looked out but had kept on with his ordinary work. Nobody could bear this out, for all the legation stall with the exception had wanted to enHis attitude, however, was entirely passive,. like the rest of his people he hated the name of Sir Vincent Parminster and could not regret what had happened, but he denied personal implication. The Assistant Commissioner had io admit that the examination had been negative. Following Akebool’s dismissal, Caythers accepted an invitation to inspect the building, with particular reference to rooms overlooking the line of route. There was three of these on the second floor above. He was not interested in the street level. A skylight did, how-

ever did attract his attention, though Count Vrenska explained that it was never opened except on the rare occasions when workmen had to attend to the water cisterns or roof. “Nevertheless I’d like to have a look up there,” the captain insisted. “As you like. I am afraid it will be somewhat dirty.” He was right. Mounting a step-lad-der . which had been fetched for the purpose, Caythers pushed back the heavy frame and peered within a thick layer of dust and that unpleasant grey fluff which gathers in such neglected parts of a building.

“When were the workmen last here?” he called down.

“Not during the last six months.’

Yet the marks which could be seen near the edges of the trap were of comparatively recent origin—marks such as those made by somebody clambering into the dismal chamber situated between ceiling and roof. Following this example the Scotland Yard man managed. to get in, noting as he did so that the disturbance of dust was similar. Judging by the clawing signs of the handgrip and the thicker track where knees dragged along the floor- he concluded that the same step-ladder had probably been used before. Fortunately the floor was boarded so he did not have to pick a precarious way across joists. Two large galvanised tanks were in the centre with the usual tangle of pipes leading to them. Ventilating louvres were placed on both right and left-hand walls from the direction of his entrance, these being at eye level. Glancing out between the slats he could see nothing but the blank walls of an even higher building than the legation. Crossing to the ventilator he whistled sharply and then began to hum a popular jazz tune. For the wooden strips were set in such a way that one looked directly downwards ip to the main thoroughfare. Trafalgar Square, with the straight column rising like a ruler across a framed picture was in direct vision. Excellent though the view was the onlooker only gave it brief inspection. His attention was taken with the louvres. Those he had first examined had been undisturbed for months, but the ones on the street side were newly cleaned. Count Vrenska manifested astonishment in the revelation. Nobody would be likely to have business in the false" roof. What could possibly, take them there?”

“Maybe your caretaker, janitor, or what you call him, could give us some information,” Caythers suggested. “Malask? We can soon find that out. He should be on the premises.” “A fellow countryman of yours?”

“Yes indeed. Malask is by way of being a family retainer. I brought him over with me. For a long time he was in the service of my father. Ah!” Count Vrenska pulled himself up with a jerk.

“Please continue.” “You gave yourself away, captain, when I told you that. It would be ridiculous to suspect a servant, even if you still give credence to that foolish notion of a blood feud.” Caythers smiled. “I must be a bad policeman to betray my thoughts so easily,” he said. “Being suspicious of all and sundry is one of the bad habits incidental to my calling. Actually it is of no significance. Does that sound ingenuous or ingenious?” “Both, I am afraid. Poor Malask is the acme of innocence, I am convinced. Reverting to the feud business, you must remember there were rules in the bad old days when such things were customary. From father to son was the only accepted succession. No other members of the household were allowed to take a hand, and it was held to have died out when the direct line was broken. You see I put myself back in your hands.” The Assistant Commissioner fidgetted uncomfortably. A personal repudiation of implication in the crime had been given “between gentlemen.” Officially it meant less than nothing. A guilty person could and usually did, assert innocence and call on his particular code for defensive purposes. Unusual as it was to have a nobleman of quality under suspicion, he could not bind himself to the fact that in certain circumstances a word of honour remained untrustworthy. Personally he was acquiring a respect for Count Vrenska that would not even be destroyed if he proved to be the culprit. Murder was not to be condoner, however. In the interests of justice nothing must be allowed to intervene.

Could it be, he wondered, that Vrenska was protecting the servant? Explaining the ethics of the Baltnian feuds was all very well but he felt that it would be possible for instructions to be given to a second party to undertake the dirty work without violating the spirit of the unwritten law. On coming to interview Malask the impression’ was. confirmed that this possibility ought not to be discounted, for the man was blindly devoted to his master. Unswerving loyalty and obedience were the most obvious of his virtues. Until bidden by Vrenska he remained dumb.

Captain Caythers sized him up quickly and decided that a considerable amount of coaxing was needed if anything useful was to be extracted. “I have served the Count and his father before him for forty-seven years,” Malask announced. “Before that my father and grandfather were in the same service, an honour of which we are proud.” “Forty-seven years. That is a long time. How old are you?” “Fifty-three.” “What? You began at the age of six?”

“It has been customary in my family to educate the children of our employees, especially those who intend to enter the household,” Count Vrenska explained. “I see. Then you would have known something of General Parminster when he was in Baltnia?”

“No, sir. The General was not a visitor to the castle.” “You had heard of him?”

“All Baltnia had. Unless his excellency instructs I would rather not say more.” “Tell the gentleman anything he wishes to know,” prompted the Count.

(To be Continued.)