Abergavenny Chronicle

mgs"&\ ? [ALL RIGHTS BXSKKVEU.] I'??i  | A Master of ecephco § IV. By RICHARD MARSH, gs 2 Author ? Author of The Beetle," Twin Sisters, &c. SS E?mmm CHAPTER XXIt. PHIliIP WALTER AUGUSTUS PAItRigig. The four of them went together to the bank, which was within a minute's walk. There, the necessary forms being quickly gone through, a sum of two thousand pounds was credited to Miss Patterson, Sower being given to Rodney Elmore to d?aw on her account for such sums as were needed for the proper conduct of the busi- ness. That matter being settled, they separated; Mr. Andrews and Mr. Parmiter going their own ways, Miss Patterson and Mr. Elmore departing together in a cab to lunch. The cab had not gone very far before the young gentleman made a dis- covery. "I've left my letter-case on the table in the bank!" "Your letter-case? Did you? What a nuisance; I never noticed it. Are you sure it was on the table? Quite; I remember distinctly; it was onder a blotting-pad. What an idiot I am I'm frightfully sorry, but I'm afraid I shall have to go back and get it." "Of course, we will go back. Tho cab returned to the bank. The lady remained inside; the gentleman passed through the great swing doors-through first one pair, then a second-it was impos- sible to 600 from the street what was taking place beyond. Once in the bank, the young gentleman presented at the counter a cheque for a thousand pounds, with his own signature attached. He took it in tens and fives, and a hundred pounds in gold. If the paying clerk thought it was rather, a.n odd way of taking so large a sum he made no comment. He came back through the swing doors with a letter-case held in his hand. "I've got it," he exclaimed. He emphatically had, though she under- stood one thing and he meant another. When they had gone some little distance in the direction of lunch she observed: "I wish I were not in mourning I've half a mind to go back and change." He observed her critically—he was hold- ing one of her hands under cover of the apron, My dear Gladys, I can't admit that you do look your best in mourning." "Do you think I don't know that?" But you look charming all the same." "No, I don't; I look a perfect fright." "I doubt if you could look a fright even if you tried; I'm certain you don't look one now. In fact, the more I look at you tho I harder I find it to keep from kissing you." "I dare say! You'd better not." That's a truth of which I'm un- pleasantly aware. Still, if you did look like anything distantly resembling & fright, I shouldn't have that feeling so strong upon me, should I?" "You're not to talk like that in a han- eomJ" "I'm merely explaining. I suggest that if you do feel like changing, you should lunch first, and change afterwards." You're coming back with me to Russell Square? "Rather." "I won't wear mourning. People may say and think what they choose—I declare I won't. Did you ever see anything like that tetter ?" It was a long way of being a curiosity." 4i But, Rodney, he said you were—he said you were all sorts of things What I can't make out is—why did he dislike you so?" My dear, I'm afraid the explanation is simple—too simple. I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I've a notion-a very strong one—that he didn't like yeu. He re- garded you as a nuisance; you know how he kept you in the background as long as he kept f1" He certainly never showed himself over- anxious for my company." "When you did become installed in town, he had formed his own plans for your future. What precisely was the arrange- ment between them I don't pretend to know; but I dare say I shall find out before long- it won't, ue.-41 much to induce Wilkes to give tlmseTTir^'rv; out I am persuaded that it was his intention that you should become M:-s. Stephen Wilkes." "But what Klines you think 801 It seems to me so monstrous. Fancy me aa Mrs. Stephen Wilkes!" "Thank you, I'd rather not. It's only a case of intuition, I admit, but I'm convinced I'm right, and one day I may be able to give you chapter and verse. He was not over fond of me to begin with, but when you appeared on the scene, and he saw that his best laid plans bade fair to gang agley, he suddenly began to develop a feeling to- wards me which ended as it has done. It's not a pretty one, but there's my explana- tion. But, sweetheart, that page is ended; let's turn it over and never look back at it; and all the rest of the volume—let's try our best to make it happy reading." They ate a fair lunch, considering, and enjoyed it, and afterwards returned together in a taximeter cab to Russell Square, feeling more tenderly disposed to each other, and at peace with ill the world. Since, therefore, It was probably their intention to spend an amorous afternoon, the shock was all the greater when, on their arrival at No. 90, they were greeted in the hall by a tall up- standing, broad-shouldered, soldierly-look- ing man in whom Gladys recognised the officer of police who had brought her the news of her father's tragic fate. "Inspector Harlow," she exclaimed. "What—what are you doing here?" It was perhaps only natural that, drawing away fwp the policeman towards her lover, she should slip her hands through his arm as if she looked to him for protection from some suddenly threatening danger. Rodney pressed his arm closer to his sides, as if to assure her she would find shelter there; though, as she uttered the visitor's name, he glanced towards him with a look which, as it were, with difficulty became an odd little smile. The visitor's manner, when he spoke, suggested mystery. "Can I say half a dozen words with you. Miss Patterson, in private?" She led the way to the first room to which they came, which chanced to be the dining- room, she entering first, then Rodney, the inspector last. When he was in he shut the door and stood up against it. 1<1 said, Miss Patterson, in private." The inspector had an eye oh Rodney. "We are in private; you can say anything you wish to say before this gentleman. This is Mr. Elmore, to whom I am shortly to be married." "Mr. ElmoieP" As the officer echoed the name the two men's glances met. In the inspector's eyes, there was an expression of eager curiosity, a8 if he were taken by surprise; Rodney'a quick perceptions told him that while his name, and probably more than his name. was known to the other, for some cause, afJ. was the last person he had expected to see; the man was '.studying him with an interest- which he did not attempt to oonceej. The young man, on his side, was regarding the inspector 88 if he found him amusing. "Well, inspector, when you have quite fimsVd staring at Mr. Elmore, perhaps you wiJl tell ine what it is you have to say." The sirl'e candid allusion to the peculia- rity wh? it seemed she had noticed in his' manner had the effect of bringing the officer back to a consciousness of what he was doing. "Was I staring? I beg Mr. Elmore s par- don-and your*, Miss Patterson. I was onlv thinking1 that, under the circum- stances, it is a fortunate accident that Mr. Elmore should fee, present. I am here m which I received this morning. I will read it to you. He took an envelope from a fat pocket- bQk. dated; but the envelope shows that it was posted last night at Bebkenha-m. fU To Inspector Harlow. Sir,—Mr. Graham Patterson did not commit suicidal he was murdered. If you can make it convenient to be at Mr. Graham Patterson's late residence, No. 00, Russell Square, to-morrow. Wed- l nesday, afternoon at 3.30, I will be theres also, and will point, out to you the mur- derer. Your obedient servant, "PHILIP WALTER AUGUSTUS PARKER. Silence followed when the inspector ceased to read. The officer was engaged in folding the letter and returning it to its envelope; Gladys looked as if she were too startled to give ready utterance to her feelings in words. Rodney was possibly trying to asso- ciate someone of whom he had heard with the name of Parker-and failing. The in- spector was the first to speak. "You will, of course, perceive, Miss Patterson, that the probabilities are that this letter is a hoax; the signature, 'Philip Walter Augustus Parker,' in itself suggests a 'hoax. Then there is the absence of an address. And, of course, we have the ver- dict of the coroner's jury, and the evidence on which it was found. I am quite pre- pared to learn that I have come to Russell Square, and troubled you with my presence, for nothing. But at the same time, in my position, I did not feel justified in noiAoming on the very off-chance of making the ac- quaintance of LPhilip Walter Augustus Parker. It is now on the stroke of half-past three; we will give him a few minutes' grace, after which—if, as I expect will be the case, there are still no. signs of him—I'll take myself off, with apologies, Miss Patter- son. But should he by any strange chance put in an appearance, I would ask you to have him at once shown in here." Hardly had the inspector done speaking than there was the sound of an electric bell and a rat-tat-tat at the front door. The trio in the dining room could scarcely have seemed more startled had they been sud- denly confronted by a ghost. The inspector's voice sank to a whisper. If the name's Parker, would you mind eskin the servant—in here? A gesture supplied the words he had omitted in his sentence. He held the door open so that Gladys could speak to the maid who was coming along the hall. She did so, also in lowered tones. If that's the person of the name of Parker show him at once in here." She withdrew; the inspector shut the door; there was a pause; no one spoke; each of the three stood and listened. They could hear the front door opened, steps coming along the hall. Then the dining- room door was opened by e. maid, who announced: Mr. Parker." There entered the little man who had fol- lowed the example set bv Rodney of getting out of the train in Redhill Tunnel. I CHAPTER XXIII. I I NECESSARY CREDENTIALS. I The moment he appeared Rodney knew that he had been expecting him; that some- where at the back of his mind there had been a feeling that it was he who was coming. His impulse was to take him by the throat and crush the life out of him be- fore he had a chance of saying a word; which was the impulse of a badly-frightened man. But he seldom lost his presence of mind for long; and, on that occasion, he had it again almost as soon as it had' gone indeed, within the same second he waa smiling at himself for having allowed him- self to be disposed towards such crass folly. So far as Rodney was able to judge the little man was clad just as he had been on Sunday eveni,ng--in the same shabby tweed suit, the old unbrashed boots, with the same suggestion about him that he might easily have been improved; by a more intimate acquaintance with soap and water. He had his hat in one hand, and with the other he nibbed his scrubby chin. No one could have seemed more at his case. Without offering any sort of greeting he addressed "ffi- spector, while the maid was still closing the door, in that thin, unmusical, penetrating voice which Rodney had so much disliked. "So you are there, Harlow, are you? I rroiidesed if you'd have sense enough to come. .?.??-_??R??.. JIe founded off his sentence with the knigger which had so jarred on the young mans sensitive nerves, and which affected Gladys so unpleasantly that, with what seemed to be a start of repulsion, she moved closer to her lover's sioe. The stranger noted the movement, and commented on it —again with the uncomfortable snigger. "That's right; get as close as you can; he'll keep you safe anyone will be safe who gets close enough to him. You're Miss Patterson; I could tell you anywhere by your likeness to your father. You're not the kind of girl I care about, any more than ho was the kind of man. Who's the young- ster? Now, there is someone worth looking at; why, he's as, handsome as paint, and of quite unusual force of character for so youn- a man. Miss Patterson, the girl who gets him for a lover will have a lover of a kind of which she has no notion. He's a most remarkable young man." With a view, perhaps, of checking the stranger's volubility, the inspector adminis- tered what was possibly meant for a re- buke. "If you would confine yourself to the busi- ness which has brought you here, sir, it would be as well. Are you Mr. Parker?" I "I am; Philip Walter Augustus Parker- a. lot of name for a man of my size." "You sent me a letter last night from Beckenham? "I did." "Stating that Mr. Graham Patterson did Hot commit suicide." "Exactly." "But was murdered?" "He was." "You went on to say that if I were here this afternoon you would point out to me the murderer." "I will." "Point him out." "I am the man." "I thought eo." "I knew you did. I saw on your intelli- gent visage that you knew what was coming. You have some experience of cranks who accuse themselves of crimes. of which they are innocent; you take it for granted that I am one of them, which shows what a dunce you are. I am a lunatic. That's right, Harlow, smile again. I knew that would tickle you. A policeman's sense of humour is his own." "It is necessary, Mr. Parker, that I should waru you that anything you say will be taken down and used against you." Quite right, Harlow; take it down; but as for using it against me, that's absutd. The law docs not punish lunatics; what- ever they may do it holds them guiltless. I'm an example of the inadeqttacy of the law to protect the public from what I may de- scribe as the lunatic at large. It is not suf- ficiently recognised that there is an order of demeiitia which may at any time develop into homicidal mania, and that, therefore, a lunatic, unless he is kept in safe keeping, may kill, with impunity, whom he phases— as I have done. I have killed Graham Pat- terson; yet no one may venture to kill me. My life is more sacred thau that of a sane man in the eyes of the law." The inspector looked at the girl signifi- cantly. "I think, Miss Patterson, that I had better deal with Mr. Parker alone." "And, Miss Patterson, I think not. What I am about to say will be found of interest not only by you, but also by-that extra- ordinary young man. Harlow, your duty is to take down what I am about to say in writing; don't exceed it. Shut the door. Miss Patterson will stay where she is." The inspector looked at the lady, as if for instructions. As she gave no sign, beyond drawing- a little closer to her lover, he shut the door, which he had opened a few inches. Mr. Parker beamed at him with a grotesque little air of triumph. "There, H.Irlow-you see! Now—atten- tion To begin at the beginning." Ajain he indulged in the uncomfortable sort of laughter which, more than anything ei". revealed the disorder of the creature's mi ad. "0. Sunday evening I bolted from my kfoper, one Metcalf, in whose charge I have been for six or seven months, and of whom I was tired to extinction—an unclubbable fellow who never talks unless he has some- thing to say. I left Brighton station on the D.10 train. Until the train started I .as the sole occupant of a first-class car- riage, at which I was not displeased. I had some idea of committing) suicide myself. Life, I assure you, has little to offer me. I am just sane enough to know that I never shall he saner. There's a wall—a wall which I never shall climb, and which shuts me out-from I don't know what. If I were kft alone—I so seldom am; they won't leave me alone!—here would be an excellent op- portunity to consider the best way out of it. You may fancy, then, what my feelings were when, just as the train was starting, another passenger entered—bundled in by an ex- tremely officious porter. He would never have caHght the tra,in if it hadn't been for tho porter—in which case he would have been still alive-so that one may say that, logically, the porter killed him. The fellow certainly ought to be punished." He waved his hat with a. gesture which was possibly intended to represent the exe- cution of the porter in question. The man who had entered my compart- ment, Miss Patterson, was your father-in every respect a most objectionable person, combining in himself nearly everything that I most object to—bloated, overfed, nearly drunk, horrible to contemplate. He sat there perspiring, puffing, panting, gasping for breath; I half expected he would have a fit. But, instead of having a fit, before the train had gone very far he was asleep, fast asleep. Could any conduct have been more disgusting?—drunken sleep! With a man of my stamp at the other end of the carriage, could anything have been more insulting? And he onored-such snores! I declare to you he made more noise than the train did; if that extraordinary young man had been in the next compartment he'd have heard him. And his jaw dropped open—it was that gave me the idea. Who is" it says that trifles light as air lead to I don't know what? It was that trifle which led to my killing your father, Miss Patterson." Again the cackling giggle, which made the girl try to draw still nearer to her lover, as if the thing were possible. "SQJue time before I had come into pos- session of quite a quantity of potassium cyanide; I won't say how-I had. The art- fulness of lunatics is proverbial, and I'm as artful as any of them; on that point I refer you to Metcalf, as well to others who have had me in their charge, both in asylums and out of them—they'll tell you! It was in the form of tabloids, looking just like sweeties, in a nice little silver box; enough to kill a street. I had meant to use it to kill myself, but at the sight of that dreadful man, with his bulging mouth, I thought—why not use it to kill him? Pop one into his mouth and the trick was done! I moved inch by inch and foot by foot along the seat towards his end of the carriage; he still snored on, pay- ing no attention of any sort to me; he was a horrid, vulgar man. At last I was right in front of him; I might have been ten miles away for all he knew. How he snored, fcni how his jaws did gape I had the silver box in one hand and a tabloid between the finger and thumb of the other, and I leaned forward and popped it into his open mouth." Mr. Parker illustrated his words by his gestures, with the air of one who was telling a most amusing tale. Oh, what a change came over him! You should have seen it! He snored the tabloid right down his throat, and he gave a great gasp and was dead. He had not even waked; I am sure that he never knew I was on the scat in front of him, or that I was in the carriage at all, There was his huge car- case bolt upright in front of me, and I knew that he would never snore any more. It made me feel quite odd it was all so sud- den and so funny. I daresay it would have made that extraordinary young man feel odd, eh?" He looked up at Rodney with a leer which made his mean, wrinkled face all at onoe seem bestial. But he never faltered in his story, which he told with a sniggering relish which lent it a quality of horror which no cliisplay of dramatic, conscience-stricken in- tensity could possibly have done. My idea had been to tell. the porters all About it the first time the train stopped; it would have been funny to sec the fuss they'd have made; I shouldn't have cared. But it so happened that the signal was against us, and the train stopped in the middle of Red- hill, tunnel." .The fiiApector allowed no hint to escape him of what he knew or did not know. He kept his eyes fastened an the little man, as if his wish were not so much to follow his actual words, but to see something which might be behind them. When it stopped I had another idea, quite as brilliant as the 6rst. Why should I go through the nuisance of a trial for g?o tliroti 4 With a little management, if this objectionable person were found in a car- riage by himself, it might be taken for granted that he had committed suicide, which would be too funny. So I put the silver box open in his fingers, slipped out of the car- riage into the tunnel—in the darkness no one saw me—waited for the train to go, then walked after it, out of the tunnel, up the, banks, across the fields to Redhill Station; had a. drink or two, which I was in want of; went on by the 10.40, until at Croydon I was joined by Metcalf, who had got there first. For the rest of the tale refer to him." Continuing, Mr. Parker seemed to address his remarks particularly to Rodney: You never would liave thought that it could be so easy to kill a man, and have it brought in as suicide, would you? When I read the report of the inquest in the papers I was amazed to find how easy it really was. Then it occurred to me that, as, of course, he had been mUrd.red—I knew that—why shouldn't I—communicate with the police, after all? No harm would come to me: lunatics' are protected by the law. It would be different if lie had been murdered by- you; you would quite certainly be hung. I shall go to Broadmoor. I have rather a fancy for Broadmoor. I am told that they are all of them lunatics there; I should like to see. At any rate, they have all of them done something; no lunatic I've ever met did anything worth doing. They must be inter- esting people. But certain credentials aro necessary for Broadmoor,- and now I think I've earned tliem. If the part I've played in this little affair of Graham Patterson doesn't qualify me for Broadmoor, then I should very much like to know what would. Eh, young man, eh? I CHAPTER XXIV. LOVERS' TASTING. Inspector Harlow having gone, with Mr. Parker as close companion, the lovers being again alone together, it, was pretty plain that they were conscious that, since entering the house, the situation had materiaUy changed. Rodney, try how he rai kt, .-coitld not erase from his mind, so quickly as he wished, the impression that he had been assisting at some hideous nightmare. He hap supposed, at the sight of the little man, that his accuser had come into the room. His nerves were strainpd in' the expectation that every moment the charge would be made. Even as the instants passed, and he began to- see the drift of the tale which tho man was telling, inventing it as he went on, he had a feeling that lie was only playing with him as a cat does with a mouse, and that, just when it seemed least likely, he would right-about-face and, perhaps with that diabolical snigger of his, place the onus of the guilt on him. Now that the fellow had actually gone, a self-accused prisoner in the inspector's charge, the feeling that he was still taking part in some fantastic drama seemed stronger than ever. Gladys, on her side, when at last she broke the curious silence, which prevailed longer than either of them supposed after they had been left together, quickly showed that she was obsessed by a mood in which he did not know her, in which, as it were, she had slipped out of his reach. "Rodney, do you think that what that man said is true?" "He seemed to give chapter and verse for most of it." "-But if it's true-dad didn't take his own life! "If it's true." "But don't you see what a difference that makes? "Of course it makes & difference; but in what sense do you mean?" In every sense—every sense! Do you think—that while he's being buried-I should be here-if I had known that, he was murdered? He was my father." "In any case he was that." "Not in any case, not in any case! I may have got him all wrong! I may have mis- judged I may-I don't know what I mayn't have done. There's the letter!" "What letter?" "To Mr. Wilkes. You said, when he wrote it, he was mad, and that taking his own life proved it. I thought so. But, if he didn't take his own life, what then?" Rodney made an effort to regain his self- possession, and partially succeeded. "My dear Gladys, the whole business is a. bad one, whichever way you look at it. Wo are to be married on Monday?" "Monday? Married—to you?" The knowledge of women on which he was apt to pride himself ought to have warned him that this was not the same girl as the one with whom he had come back from lunch in the cab. But at the moment he was not yet quite himself; his perception was at fault. He made a mistake. "My dear Gladys, you are perfectly well aware that the arrangement, as it stands at present, is that we are to be married on Monday. I was merely about to suggest that, as it would seem that this whole un- fortunate affair is likelv to prove too much, we should be married to-morrow instead, and then we shall be able to get out of this unpleasant atmosphere at the earliest pos- sible moment." "Stop! stop!" She shouted at rather than spoke to him. a l "Perhaps I shall not be married to you at ell." He stared at her in genuine amazement. "Gladys! What are you talking about? What do you mean?" "I don't know what I mean; I almost hope I never may know." 'My dear child; that wretched man." Have you ever seen him before?" "So far as I am aware, never in my life. What makes you ask such a question? "Are you sure? Do you swear it?" "How can a man swear to a thing like that? But I do swear that, to the best of my knowledge and belief, I have never seen him before. "Then how came it that he knew you so well? "Knew me so well? Gladys! What are you dreaming about? Why, he never even addressed me by name." 41 No, I noticed that; but he addressed you all the same. Most of what he said was especially addressed to you, as if he knew that you would understand." "What are you driving at?" What's more, he saw that I was afraid of you." "Afraid? You? Why, you could hardly have snuggled closer." That was because I was afraid to let you know how afraid of you I was." Gladys 1 Has that creature turned your rai n? I-I don't know. Oh, if I could only say a few words to dad-if I only could!" What would they be?" 41 I would-ask him-how-he died. H You have two stories offered for our choice. Are you content with neither? Rodxiev, if my father were standing here now, and whis spirit may be, would you tell me, in his presence, that you don't know why be disliked you?" Are you going into that all over again? To what end?" What does than man know of you? What does he know ?" How can I tell what a half-witted man knows of me, or thinks he knows T Cer- tainly he knows nothing to my discredit." "Rodney—don't." Don't what? You know You do know I can see in your eyes you know Please go!" Sweetheart! "Don't—speak to me-like that now. Go!" You surely are not in earnest. You can- not wish me to leave you before this extra- ordinary misunderstanding which has so inexplicably sprung up is cleared away. Tell me what is in your miiid-frankly, all! I quite understand how this wretched man Parker may have turned your thoughts into unexpected currents and filled you with miserable doubts. I assure you he has upset me more than I care to tell you." I know that he upset you! I felt you "were upset when I was so close to you. I can see it mow." If for the moment he was discon- and the lady's mfinner was disconcerting—he slurred it over with creditable skill. Come, Gladys; let's try to get back to ¡ where we were--to perfect understanding. Tell me your doubts, no matter how in- soluble they may seem to you. I promise you I'll solve them." I'm sure you will; I feel you could solve anything, but I am afraid of your solution." Before he had an inkling of her intention 6hê had passed rapidly across the floor and. from the room. Gladys he exclaimed. But it was too late; she had gone. He stood staring at the door through which she had vanished, irresolute. Then, as if un- wittingly, his fingers strayed to the pocket in which were the proceeds of the cheque he had cashed while Gladys, without in the cab, had supposed him to have gone into the bank for his letter-case. Apparently the touch decided him; often a little thing brought him to an instant decision. Without making any further effort to gain the lady's ear, he buttoned his coat across his chest, took his hat and stick from off the table, and quietly left the house. (To be Continued.) I