“MAN FROM THE AIRPORT”

Wairarapa Times-Age, 19 December 1939, Page 10

“MAN FROM THE AIRPORT”

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

By

LESLIE BERESFORD.

Author of “Mr Appleton Awakes,” “The Other Mr North,” etc,

CHAPTER V. Continues. “Yes, yes. I have already interviewed the old gentleman," the other laughed, gesturing with one hand, as if to brush aside something of no importance. “I do not think," he said, "that we want any lawyer coming between us, you and I. We can discuss our own affairs quite well without interference.” ‘There’s nothing to discuss, Emil,” she retorted coldly. "I’ve had sufficient trouble with you, I prefer that we have no more dealings together. I was a fool ever to have backed you with money at that road-house. I didn’t realise at the time, but I do now. I’m even prepared to lose the money I let you have," she added hastily and unwisely. “I can afford it, fortunately.” “But you can’t afford to quarrel with me,” he said to her with a quiet wealth of meaning behind his voice which roused her to anger. “You’re- talking nonsense,” she flashed at him. "Mr Wallingford, as a mattei - of fact, has said something to me about you —well, he used the expression ‘some form of blackmail. That’s a nasty word, Emil, and Mr Wallingford will know what steps to take is you have any such thing in your mind.” ‘As you say, lady, the word is a nasty one,” he purred, spreading out his palms with an expression of regret. “1 shouldn’t use it myself by choice. The point is that—as I told you just now—you can’t afford to quarrel with me. That is why I am here, so that we can discuss matters in a friendly way.” “What is there to.discuss?” she asked. “Our marriage," he answered simply. She could only stare at him in amazement. She did not feel in the least angry at his suggestion. It merely made her want to laugh, which she did in the end.

“You don’t flatter yourself at all, do you, Emil?” she asked. ‘No,” he retorted gravely. “Nor am I merely amusing myself> I speak seriously—quite seriously.” “Then I should think again,” she shrugged, serious too, now. “If you really imagine for a moment I would even consider any proposal to be married to a man in your position, to say nothing of your character ” "Let me remind you that, during our little private partnership over the roadhouse,” he said, “you permitted me more than once—apparently with no dislike—to express my love to you, not only in words, but in quite memorable kisses ” "Why. you contemptible creature —!” she Interrupted, a rich colour hot in her cheeks, her eyes blazing in anger. “Just because it amused me to lead you on ” “Yes,” he stilled her voice sharply. “That is just the difference between you and me. You were amused. 1 was in earnest. Well, I am in earnest now, and there wont be any amusement in it for you, either. I say that we are going to be married.” “You’d better say so to Mr Wallingford, and hear his opinion,” she said tartly. “And now, the best thing is for you to drive on. I’ve no more to say. “But I have,” he persisted. “The matter cannot be dismissed in that easy way, either by you or your Mr Wallingford. I’m sure you'll agree with that when I’ve told you why you will have to accept me as a husband.” For a moment she watched him from narrowed eyes, her mind at work. She could conceive no reason for this air of certainty on his part. She could think of nothing which would give him any hold over her at all. No indiscreet letters, for instance, common weapons in the hand of the blackmailer. She had never written him a line since she had known him. Nor had she ever written anything to anyone else—sc far as she remembered—which might have come into his hands. It could be nothing like that. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” she said stiffly. “Nothing on earth can make me accept you as my husband." “If you don't,” he interrupted her, a smile on his lips, “then you and the Accrington millions will part company That is no idle threat, believe me." Paula heard this suggestion without for a moment giving it any credence, however threatening Emil Luttner sounded or looked. The very idea of the Accrington millions being taken from her would be amusing if it were not too stupid for words, she told herself.

"You must be mad —completely,” she said to him, laughing. "On the contrary." lie retorted. "I happen to be in a position to prove to you that 1 mean what I have said. At present, naturally. 1 am not going to do more than let you know some of the facts. The principal one is, lady, that neither you. nor your father and mother before you, were really entitled to the Accrington fortune." "What nonsense!" Paula exclaimed. "How could that possibly be, when it was willed to them —?”

"Quite wrongly," he interrupted her. "Your branch of the Accrington family inherited at the death of a grand-un-cle of yours, who was accidentally killed during a shoot- —" “Are you going to tell me anything f don't already know?" Paula inquired. So far. you've given me ancient history, Emil." “Maybe. But there happens to be a piece of ancient history of which you know nothing. Nobody ever knew about it—nobody anyhow, who gave it away. That grand-uncle of yours, although he was supposed to have died

a single man and without heirs, was secretly married and had a son. That son in turn married, and has died. But there is a son very much alive today. "He—and not you—should be living in this beautiful place here, owing all the money which is yours,” he went on, and laughed: “Oh, don’t think I am joking. I have the whole story from a clerk to a solicitor, who traced the son, and also knows where is the definite proof of that secret marriage. So, you see, if you don’t want to lose everything you possess, you’ll agree to my suggestion. On the day you and I are married that proof shall be destroyed. and nobody will be any the wiser.” Paula had listened to all this with a growing certainty that the man was not exaggerating, that there must be truth in his story. Not that, even allowing it to be indeed true, she would be influenced into accepting his price to save her heritage. He little understood her, if he believed that. However, she did not disillusion him immediately. She wanted to know more. "All this is very interesting," she remarked. “And, of course, it may be quite true. Meantime, supposing you tell me who is the rightful heir to our money?” "That I’m not prepared to do,” the other said with an air of caution. “I can only tell you this. He knews about it, of course. My solicitor’s clerk has spoken to him. But 14 he doesn’t know where definite proof of that marriage is .to be found, and without it he can do nothing. It’s up to you to accept my offer, unless you want me to hand over to him the key to his just dues.” “A form of blackmail, as Mr Wallingford said." Paula eyed him with contempt, though she counted it unwise to quarrel with him as yet. Indeed, she felt it wisest to affect an attitude of accepting what appeared to be the inevitable.

“Anyhow,” she suggested, “you must let me think this matter over. Naturally, I’m no throwing away my fortune if it can be helped. Still, I need time to consider the proper thing to be done,”

“That, if you’re wise, will not be to take your Mr Wallingford into your company,” he warned her. ‘Any tricks of that sort, any interference by that old fool, and the real heir will be quickly in possession. He will be only too willing to pay for that proof.” Paula had, in fact, intended to consult old Mr Wallingford. She still meant to do so, despite that threat. But she did not let Emil Luttner know as much. CHAPTER VII. At much about the time Paula and Emil Luttner parted outside- the gates of “Sunnyside,” John Peters was discussing her with old Mr Wallingford at the house of Sir Oscar Baring, no great distance away. From the lawns of Lea House', at the bottom of which ran a river, you could see distantly the. white and blue mass of the Accrington country-sear. Peters had been studying it for some few silent minutes, a queer little smile haunting his lips, though—a strange contrast —his eyes had a serious, almost tragic expression. He turned suddenly to the lawyer by his side. “I suppose, as you happen to be her solicitor.” Peters said in his rather drawling voice, “it wouldn’t really be etiquette on my part to tell you exactly what is my personal opinion of that young woman." ‘Well, I really don’t know, my dear John,” the other murmured lazily in the sunshine. “You see, as I am your solicitor, too, as well as a friend of yours, the confidence might well be preserved. Confidences given to solicitors, in fact, have to be kept in separate water-tight, compartments. If you would really like to get anything off your chest, my boy—” "I should. I didn't at the time know she was Paula Accrington, and worth millions in money,” said the other. “All I saw in front of me was a homicidal little maniac, who’d have been the better for a good spanking. And just because she happens to own the soil of the aerodrome, she thought she could do just as she liked.” “Should that surprise you?” asked Mr Wallingford mildly. “Remember how she was brought up, my dear fellow. Pampered, spoiled, always carrying around with her that unfortunate burden of the silver spoon in her mouth. It isn't all her fault, you know. Between ourselves —in the strictest confidence —her branch of the family were always a pretty—shall I say, difficult crowd?”

“Paula’s grandfather and father were both extraodinarily difficult men. Their wives were not much better. Paula, you know, has a brother —or at least she had, though nobody knows if he's alive now or not. He was an out and out waster. As a matter of fact, 1 have always looked on Paula as the pick of the whole bunch." “You surprise me!’ Peters murmured, staring across at Sunnyside in deep thought, yet with that queer little smile playing over his lips. "Well,” he said, after a moment, "she's a very thorny bud. whatever else she may be. And, from what I’ve read in the papers, she’s a distinctly wild bud at that. This road-house business ”

(To be Continued.)