EBONY TORSO

Wairarapa Times-Age, 29 August 1939, Page 10

EBONY TORSO

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

(By

JOHN C. WOODIWISS.)

CHAPTER IV. (Continued). ‘‘lt’s quite safe.” he said, pringling with excitement. "This line's bad to night —I can scarcely hear you. Repeat your message in English. The only reply was a grunt of fury from the other end: ‘‘Wass Basta!!'” and the receiver was crashed down. “Curse!!!” muttered Hopton and was about to return to his chair when a sarcastic voice began to speak behind him. "Irritating things, these ‘phones. Inspector. So kind of you to answer it during by absence!” - Hopton wheeled round to find the Rev Charles Galesbourne standing before the fire, a smile wreathing his mouth as he observed the other's discomfiture. CHAPTER V. Cool as Hopton was, it took an extreme effort of will power to prevent him betraying himself at that moment; but somehow he managed to replace the receiver with the noncnalant air of complete innocence. “Ah, I didn’t hear you come in, sir,”! he said good humcuredly. “Pity you weren't here a minute sooner: I'm afraid the person who wauled you has rung off." “What ia nuisance!" commented me padre in a sarcastic tone. “Won’t you sit down, Inspector, and enjoy the fire'?’’ “Thanks," replied the Detective. "I didn't quite know what to do when your ’phone started to ring. Your servant is so deaf, isn't he?” "Yes, the poor fellow’s very afflicted,” agreed Galesbourne, sitting opposite his guest and fixing a pair of large brown eyes on his face in a most disconcerting manner; “still, deafness is sometimes an asset in a servant. That sounds unkind, but I hate people about me who listen to everything and carry on a sort of domestic espionage. But I'm forgetting; who was the caller just now?”

An anxious look had come into his eyes belying the calmness with which he asked the question. "I'm afraid I can’t tell you, sir,’’.replied the Inspector truthfully. “It was a man speaking in a foreign language.” "In a foreign language? Now I wonder who that could have been?” pondered the Vicar, lowering his chin and gazing pensively at the carpet. “You couldn’t tell me if he was speaking in French or German, by any chance?"

“No, sir,” answered Hopton boldly. "It was no language I've ever heard. It sounded like a code of some sort.”

“A code? How very odd. Inspector!”

The parson looked up sharply again as he spoke. But, after a pause he began to chuckle. “I think I know who it was," he said. "One of rny young men playing a practical juke, no doubt. Dear me. that’s rather funny to think he got the wrong person," and he began to laugh in a dry, mirthless manner, which was an obvious pretence. "As long as it was nothing important, I don’t fee] so guilty, sir." Hopton returned.

‘‘Guilty? But why should you feel guilty, my dear sir? You did the only thing possible in the circumstances. We’ve nothing to hide here, I assure you."

The last sentence was said almost in the manner of a challenge but the wily detective was far too cunning to notice it.

“Ah. well, sir. ‘an honest heart’s worth a King's ransom.' " he quoted with a grin. "That's true.” agreed his host cordially. “And you couldn't understand a single word of this mumbo-jumbo, of

course'?" "I think il would be a clever man who could." Hopton assured him. "I never heard such a lot of gibberish." Galesbourne leant back and burst into a genuine peal of laughter, in which the detective imagined he could trace a note of intense relief. "I hope you made Smith, my servant, understand who you were without too much trouble, inspector. The poor old chap doesn't mean to be difficult, o! course, but his deafness makes him rather troublesome at times. I'm really very attached to the old boy, and put up with him from motives of charity. He has an inveterate horror of spending the rest of his days in- the workh o u s e infirmary." The show of kindness was a thought overdone, and quite failed to deceive Hopton s experienced knowledge of psychology, but ho decided to play the padre at his own game. ''Very good of your. I'm sure, sir." he replied in a carefully camouflaged tone of commendation. "The trouble with Smith is. that he will chatter if he gets half a chance," went on the Vicar. "1 hope he didn't t<> —-C‘!‘ —Ulitv)‘Li111 \ «»tl w ill) • i lot. of his small talk'.'" The note of suspicion had crept back into his voice, and. instantly. I lopton was aware that the query nn-atd far more to the questioner than In- would have thought. 'Oh, no. sir," he replied with a smile. "On the contrary, I thought him a bit short. I couldn't get more than a dozen words out of him." "I'm delighted to hear it." nodded the Vicar approvingly. "Recently I was obliged to speak to him very forcibly on the subject--that is. as forcibly as otte could speak to a man (if hi--advanced you'll niidcrst iiitl in spec to), utii.l I fi) lLicl !(• hrur iiiy remarks have borne fruit." “Weil, you needn't worry :iboti! that., sir. the detective assured him' drawing a mental picture as he spoke of the black weals on the trembling wrists. "Good!—good!” chuckled the padre, taking down a box of Egyptian cigar-' ettes from the mantlepiece. "You’]) I smoke, won't you. inspector':" "Pipe nnuk-.-r if y uH don’t mind -ffi- ■

answered Hopton, taking his pipe and tobacco pouch from his pocket. 1 never like cigarettes, particularly Egyptians.”

“Just as you please, my dear sir. Light up by all means. I'll tell you a secret: I really keep these Egyptian cigarettes for my young men. although 1 must admit that I enjoy smoking them myself now and again. Puts the boys at their ease if the vicar asks them to have a cigarette. I find, and stops ’em smoking on the sly. You'll excuse me if I put on my slippers, won’t you? My boots are rather damp, and I catch a chill so easily.” “Certainly, sir." agreed the detective, lighting up white his host replaced the box and made a change in his footweai'.

' ‘There, that’s better.” he smiled. 1 taking up his former position in front |of the fire. “Smith’s a long time mak- ! ing that coffee, isn’t he'?” j “Don’t worry about that, sir." Hop- | ton answered, puffing away contented- ■ ly. .“I’m quite happy for the moment." ! “In that case we’ll give him a few i minutes longer," said Father Galesbourne. "I’m so pleased you called, inspector. I wanted to i.ave a chat about this astonishing series of crimes. Do you think they’re the work of a criminal or have you decided to admit the possibility of the supernatural?” Hopion thought he detected an anxious note in host's last question, and watched his reactions carefully. “Quite frankly. I’ve not absolutely made up my mind on that point yet," he replied evasively. “At the moment I feel they're either the work of a madman, or of a very sane criminal trying to cover his tracks by giving the crimes a supernatural touch.” ! The vicar shook his head decidedly several times. “I don’t altogether agree,” he said. “During my work as parish priest I’ve come to have a wholesome respect fdr the supernatural.” “Oh, I’m not denying the possibility of such a thing,” his guest assured him. “But I’ve never come across a genuine case yet.” “There’s no doubt this unfortunate fellow Scutt had been initiated into the mysteries of Black Magic. Inspector.” the padre continued, without commenting on his guest’s objection. “He must have seen something very horrifying at the moment of dissolution for, though I’ve attended many death-beds, I never saw a face so tragically distorted.” “Yes, it was pretty grim,’’ agreed Hopton shortly. “Then, having decided on that point, are we in order to rule out the possible presence of evil occult forces?” questioned Galesbourne. leaning forward earnestly. “I've thought the matter over for hours, but can discover no other explanation to fit the facts.” "I rather think we shall end by finding a much mure ordinary solution.” the Detective assured him decidedly. “Although I must repeat, 1 haven’t definitely ruled out the occult theory yet."

The Rev Galesbourne shrugged his shoulders doubtfully. "Well. I’m thankful I'm more or less above suspicion. Inspector.” he remarked after a short pause. "You know I've actually heard that certain evilminded people in the parish have been good enough to accuse me of poor Scuffs murder. I can assure you I shall take proceedings for criminal libel against such gossiping liars if .1 can prove their identity." It was a daring shot, and Hopton recognised it at once as an artful attempt to discover which way the suspicions of the police were directed. He nodded without comment; his face an impassive mask from which the padre could read nothing. "It's really intolerable to have such horrible accusations levelled against one by a set. of cowards who daren't, come into the open and risk saying them | to one’s face." continued the padre bitterly. "It makes things so difficult fori a public man, especially a priest." "I quite appreciate that, sir," agreed! the Detective sympathetically. "Gossips are always very busy in a murder case. After all, no one with a spark of sense believes these wild rumours." "I suppose not." sighed the Vicar in a relieved voice. "Still, I must say it’s quite bad enough to go through a dreadful experience of this sort, witnout the added annoyance of being pilloried as a murderer."

’the sound of shuffling footsteps broke in upon the conversation and Smith entered with the coffee on a tray. The old servant trotted forward shooting quick, nervous little glances at the visitor all the time he was arranging the cups. 'Well, Smith, you've taken long enough time to get that coffee." said the Father, in a tone that was meant to be facetious, but in which Hopion sensed a note of subtle menace. "Pardon, sir?" asked the deaf man cupping his palm behind his ear. "I said you'd been a very long time!" bawled the padre. "I'm very sorry, sir." mumbled Smith in abject, apology, “but the kettle took so long to boil." “Very well, that's all we shall want." shouted the Vicar and as the doddering old man nodded with a vacant grin and made for the door, he began to pour out the pleasant smelling contents of the pot. "Milk' and .sugar, Inspector?" lie inquired. hovering over the sugar basin with the tongs. "Both please, sir." Hopton's tone was a little abstracted as ho made the reply for he was, watching Smith, who turned as het reached the door, and touched his lips with the fore-iinger of his right hand i as if to enjoin silence, and then indicated his wrist. Obviously he feared, the stranger would say something! about, the bruises to his master, and was warning him to remain silent. •

.(To be continued j