"CRASH!"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 3 November 1939, Page 10

"CRASH!"

COPYRIGHT. PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

BY

ARTHUR APPLIN.

Author of “Adventure for Two,” “Winning Through,” “Cold Cream,” etc.

CHAPTER XXVII. A friendly concierge greeted them, Johnny watched Peggy sign her name in the register; he scrawled his own beneath it, making it as illegible as possible. The clerk at the bureau informed them they could have two rooms —a very good one with bathroom, overlooking the sea, and a smaller one on the floor above. The first thing Johnny did was to give Peggy something to eat. They had tea in her room, with the windows wide open,and the scent of flowers in the air. The sun was sinking over the Esterels; the Iles des Lerins still sunned themselves in the bay. Johnny told Peggy the plans he had made. “Aren’t you rather rushing things?” she asked.

“Of course I am! I'm going to rush things so fast that before you go to bed tonight you’ll know your fate—whether we’ve succeeded or failed.” She looked at the mountains, the sea. the quiet pine trees: “Johnny—l don’t think I could bear it if—if we failed. Life has suddenly become so beautiful. and I do love you.”

“We shan’t fail." he said, and went out quickly. ,■ He waited until seven o’clock, then phoned from his bedroom and asked to be put through to Senora Garcia's apartment. The maid answered him: “Yes madame is in her room, resting before dressing." Johnny waited with a palpitating heart while the maid took in his name. Presently, to his relief, he heard the. Senora's voice. “Mrs Garcia speaking,” she said in perfect English. "My agents in London telephoned me a few hours ago that you were coming. You’ve been very quick. You wish to see me about my pearl necklace?” Johnny smiled; that was good—no mystery! She had a pleasant voice. In imagination he saw her lying on her bed—a little too fat, perhaps, very indolent, highly perfumed, and goodtempered. “Yes.” he said, “And I would like to see you immediately. May I come down now?”

“My good young man ” a pleasant laugh came over the wire—“only a young man could have suggested that! I have yet to have my bath, make my toilet, and at nine o’clock we dine at the Casino. I could give you five minutes, say at half-past eight." “Fine!” he cried. In imagination he embraced her, even though she had not made her toilet and was just going to her bath. “By the way, you haven't seen anyone else?” “There’s a letter on my table now from a Colonel Phillipson, but I was waiting to see you before making an appointment.” ““Quite right!” he said, trying to speak calmly. “At half-past eight, then!" CHAPTER XXVII. Johnny broke into a sweat when he realised how much depended on the next few hours. It was true, he was rather rushing things. If he hadn’t dashed from London in such a hurry he might have hunted up someone who would have given him an introduction to the Garcias . . .Michael Brooke could have helped him there. He was jolly lucky, he reflected, as he got into a boiled shirt and tied a neat bow, in being seen by Mrs Garcia at all. He rehearsed the story he was going to tell her, but now the moment had arrived it began to look very thin. Why should the Garcias believe him in preference to the colonel? He had no credentials or standing and really not a scrap of proof to back his statements. The story he had to tell was simply the story Peggy had told him; he had never seen the necklace. Colonel Phillipson could produce it —and that was all Mrs Garcia wanted. What was there, to prevent her taking the pearls handing over the reward to the colonel, and then informing the police what had happened and leaving them to deal with himself, and Peggy and her brother.

Johnny pulled himself together; it was mad to think of defeat. A man who wished to succeed was victorious even before he began to fight. He looked at his reflection in the mirror before going downstairs; he had ro rely upon personality—unfortunately this was not a film drama but real life —anyway he wouldn't have made a good film hero. He wasn’t even goodlooking: a low. narrow forehead. His eyes were all right—he remembered an old lady once saying he had such nice honest eyes—but his nose was a bit crooked and his mouth aggressive. Still, when he compared himself lo the colonel he might stand a better chance with a woman; he had youth on his side, he had nothing to fear —and he was in love.

He ran downstairs. On his way he stopped at Peggy’s room and knocked at the door; when there was no answer he went in. “Hullo!" he shouted. "Hullo," she replied from the bathroom. "What are you doing?" “Running a bath." “Well, get into your evening frock and wait till I come back." At tlie bureau he asked the number of the Garcias' suite, then he went to the florist's and bought a bunch of red roses; in the Senora’s country, he remembered it was customary for a gentleman to greet a lady with flowers. The maid opened the door d” rcias’ private si£mw to w '

hill and down below, the town looked like a handful of jewels shining in the darkness. From the restaurant the sound of music came faintly. The warm air was saturated with the smell of flowering shrubs. He remembered saying to Peggy that the Riviera was a good place for a honeymoon. Here was the time, the place, and the loved one —all together ... if he was lucky!

A voice from the room startled him and he threw his cigarette over the balcony into the darkness. He saw Mrs Garcia standing just behind him. He quite lost his head for a moment, stared at her without speaking or moving. This wasn’t the middle-aged, well-de-veloped, flamboyant Spanish woman he had expected. She was young, beautiful, with dark, warm eyes and a provocative mouth; and instead of bright colours she wore a perfectly simple scarlet dress; emeralds round her throat, and long emerald ear-rings which swung to and fro from very small flat ears.

“Mr Harcourt?" she said again. “Will you come in and sit down? You must tell me your story quickly because we are dining at nine o'clock, and my husband hates to be kept waiting.” He stepped into the room and offered her the roses. She took them graciously and held them to her face a moment: “How did you know red roses were my favourite flower?”

“I didn't. But now 1 shall always remember.” There was amusement and interest in her eyes. She dropped into an armchair, still holding the flowers, and told him to sit down. There were cigarettes, she said, on the table by his side. “Now about my pearl necklace. I’d almost given up hope of finding it. You see, beyond the fact that the pearls are very beautiful ones, it was a wedding present, and I have a sentimental interest in it” “I haven't got your necklace, but I know who has.” “This Colonel Phillipson who wrote to me?” “Yes.” “But how wonderful!" Mrs Garcia cried. “Ramon will be pleased. He’s never forgiven me for losing them . , . But what’s your object in coming here and wanting to see me before I meet this Colonel Phillipson?” “Because he stole them,” Johnny said slowly. Mrs Garcia shrugged her shoulders: “Oh well, I’d have asked no questions. I'd be satisfied to get the necklace intact, and am quite ready to pay the reward.” She looked at Johnny, and he saw suspicion in her eyes. “I suppose you are certain of what you say? You know this Colonel stole them?” “Yes.”

“Then why didn’t you inform the police? You'd have got the reward just the same. If you expect my husband to pay you for this information. I'm afraid you’ll be disappointed." Johnny got up: “Nothing like that. Mrs Garcia. I don’t wan’t a penny.” She looked puzzled for a moment, then she said: “Oh. you’re a detective perhaps—a private detective?” Johnny smiled. “In a way, perhaps —a temporary and very private one. Look here, frankly I’m not the least interested in your necklace or the reward, but only in two young people into whose possession it originally came, and who were terribly anxious to give it back to you; but before they could, this man who must have known of its existence,’ found out where it was hidden and stole it. Now, you lost this necklace in Buenos Ayres one evening just over a year ago.”

She nodded: “That’s to say, I was dining at the Bristol Hotel, and I was wearing it when I left my house. When I got to the hotel cloakroom it had gone.

“You dropped it as you got out of your car. The young man who picked it up could have run after you and given it back, but he didn't. Shall 1 tell you why?” Again she shrugged her shoulders and glanced at her diamond wristwatch: “If it doesn't take too long, I suppose you were the young man, Mr Harcourt?” Johnny grinned as he shook his head and looked at her boldly: "If 1 had been. I should certainly have run after you!'’

He told her the whole story, as he had learned it from Peggy and Dick. It was a straightforward tale and he told it very well. He made everything he described extraordinarily clear and vivid. It must have been love which made his dormant imagination active. When he had finished Mrs Garcia didn't speak: she got up and went over to the windows. Johnny heard the music from the restaurant again—a Strauss waltz.

Presently Mrs Garcia said: "It is a lovely view from here at night.” He hated people who talked about the view, but he got up and joined her. "Yes. at night," he said. “By day one sees too much 1 expect; the mystery and romance is rubbed off." "Mystery and romance!" she repeated; there was tenderness in her deep voice now. "You seem to have discovered and enjoyed both.” "Discovered." he said; “but waiting to enjoy."

Suddenly she turned cr. him impatiently and stamped her foot. “H's all very disturbing! Why do you want to come here and upset me like thi"’’ 7 must get my pearl ac