SHORT STORY.
FOUND ... MURDERED!
IT had been a lovely day, but black
clouds were gathering ominous- ly as the young reporter from Lon- don left the group of men and women who were talking eagerly outside the "Dog and Duck," the one and only inn of Ashlea, that charming little midland village. In the best bedroom of that inn lay the body of the young Squire, whose body had been found that morning by the village poacher by the banks of a small stream that ran through the woods that lay al- most due north of the village. The smart detective in charge of the case, also a young man, had told the reporter that the Squire's fore- head was marked by a blow from somo blunt instrument-how the police love that phrase!--but the actual cause of death was a wound at the base of the skull. There was nothing to be found near the corpse that could account for either of these injuries. The poacher was a harmless individual whose criminal ambitions rarely exceeded a rabit. The Chief Constable of the county had departed to procure some blood- hounds or to telephone Scotland Yard, leaving the detective-sergeant
Norris, in charge.
the reporter, decided to motor to the country
town.
As he approached his car he was joined by the detective, "Give me a lift like a good chap, otherwise I shall have to borrow a push bike or pony trap." "Sure thing. Hop in."
Neither of these young men was over four-and-twenty, yet, in the face of murder, they represented, one, the Public, the other, the Law. The victim was only seven-and- twenty. He had inherited Vernon Manor and very valuable holdings in the surrounding district as well as town property. Dark, handsome `in an almost sinister fashion, be was reported to have held a com- mission in the Army which he re- signed on coming into his inheri- tance. He was not known to be married, but it was rumoured that he led a "fast" life up in Town, and he was not at all popular in the neighbourhood, had proved a harsh landlord, and had discharged most of his grand-uncle's servants from the Manor. For the main branch of the Vernon family had come to an end with the kindly old gentleman who had passed away eight months before, and the whole property and a very large income had passed into the hands of his grandnephew, who had been known to his Intimates as "Black" Vernon, partly because of the hue of his hair and eyes, partly because of his character, but neither Norris nor Avant, the detective, was aware of this last fact yet.
They had gone half the distance to the country town, which was north-east of Ashlea, when the storm broke with a fury that was tropical and the reporter's car "conked out"!
The two young
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men looked at each other, groaned and laughed in chorus. Norris could do nothing with the car, so he walked away in search of a telephone and soon Avant heard his cheery shout and scrambled out of the car on to the mud of the lane, through a gap in the hedge that led to a pathway, at the end of which was a cottage that even the driving rain and gloomy twilight could not deprive of that pleasant look that some little houses possess, particularly in the country. At the open door of the cottage was a man clad in Donegal tweeds. He had a mop of silver hair and a fine, spiri- tual face. It was only later that Avant saw he was extremely lame.
"Come inside, come inside, sir," said this man, "And join your friend by the fire. A glass of grog and then a little
supper and the world will appear more cheerful. I will send Amos, the handyman, to call upon a garage so that your car can be towed in and you yourselves landed safely in town cre long. We are pleased to granddaughter and I. see young faces here. Darlay, by the way."
The detective bowed. honour, sir.
have you, my We so rarely My name is
"This is an " I've read your book on Egypt and loved It, although I'm not what you'd call an educated man." Mr. Darlay beamed. “That
a
is the sort of compliment I do like. Come in, come in. It's a vile even- Ing, but we will have a pleasant hour or to before you resume your journey." As Avant entered the house, he bumped into a short, broad-shouldered man clad in a heavy waterproof and wearing Sou'-wester. "Sorry." growled the man and, averting his face, walked hurriedly out of the house, arous- ing Avant's detective Instincts. "Some old lag who has found a job and does not want to be recognis- ed", he said to himself, and made for the fireside where an extremely pretty girl provided him with a glass of steaming hot grog and in- sisted on his sitting in a comfor- table armchair within comfortable range of the cheerful - blaze. The reporter had already become on the best of terms with the pretty girl, who was Leila Darley, only grand- daughter of Vivian Darlay, the famous Egyptologist, whose bad health and Lameness had precluded him from further researches and left him in very reduced circum- stances, as he told them. "Never- theless, we manage to live happily enough, and when I pass out. my little girl will not be left penniless. Some years ago, when I was still comparatively wealthy man,
Д
I
bought this little house, which is larger than it looks, and four acres of land: But I am talking too much about myself. You two young gen- tlemen must lead interesting if not exciting lives."
"
The reporter answered for the pair of them. "Fair enough. Mr. Avant and I are investigating a and here he paused because he saw the pathetic look of dismay that flashed across Lella's charming countenance.
"That is to say we are investigat- ing a rather unpleasant affair that would not interest you, I am cer- tain."
Leila thanked him with a quick flash of her eyes. Of that he was certain. But why should she
do
so? Perhaps tales of violence upset Mr. Darley, who was certainly very trail,
There was an awkward pause in the conversation which Leila bridged by concocting some more grog. She was eyeing her grand- father anxiously. He looked ghastly. After a quick swallow of neat
hardly a word since he had entered the room.
The friendly atmosphere that had reigned therein at first had changed. Young Norris felt it and his face reflected his feelings. He en- deavoured to make conversation and failed miserably. What was wrong? He could have cheered when Amos Ancient entered looking like the Mariner and gruffly announced that he had telephoned the garage and they were sending a tow-car along at once.
"Could I have a little word with you?" asked Avant in a low tone, Amos snarled. "Have it here and now. I know you have recognised Yes, I did ten years for manslaughter in the old days when the law was blind, but you have nothing on me now."
mc.
N
Mr. Darley rose to his feet. “I must speak... "Be quiet, sir,” growled Amos, an almost tender note in his .gruff voice. The Egyptologist persisted. "It is not fair to you. Mr. Avant, will you please take my statement?”.
The young detective rose to his feet, his rather finely-modelled face not unsympathetic. "I must warn you...
he began.
"Oh, cut the cackle!"
growled Amos, "I did it. I done the fellow in and he deserved it, the black villain!"
"That is not true, Amos. You must not sacrifice yourself,” almost shrieked Mr. Darley, "I am guilty. I, alone. It was an unlucky blow!" Leila was crouched in her chair, her face covered in her hands.
Avant looked at her closely and asked in a soft voice. "Why did you hit him, Miss Darley?"
Despite the vociferous advice of Amos and her grandfather, she re- plied, jumping to her feet, "I hit Mr. Vernon. I had to. I hit him with his own stick and he fell and his head hit that pointed ornament on the table over there. Grand- father and Amos came in just after and ..
and .
"Then she shook her head as if at a loss for words.
"I took the body across country to Ashlea woods," said Mr. Darley, Amos laughed aloud, а croaking laugh. "You're not strong enough, Mr. Vivian. It was my idea and I did it."
Avant nodded. "I see. Where is this telephone, Amos. Take me to it will you and we will have a chat on the way," and the two men walk- ed out, a newborn look of astonish- ed respect for the young detective in Amos's deep-set eyes,
Young Norris did not know what to say. Of course his first duty was to his newspaper, but then be was not one of those hardened crime-reporters you see on the alms. Besides he was very young, came from a good home, had sister of his own.
"I'll see you out of this," he sud- denly promised Leila, remembering that his uncle Timothy was one of the finest "criminal" solicitors in London. It seemed hours before Avant and Amos returned. The -- young detective announced:
""The Chief Constable is coming down to see you himself, Mr. Darley. It I not may say so, unofficially, I do think you should worry too much." "Dang me if 'e aint' a decent cove for a copper," commented Amos in an Irish whisper. Avant turned - to Norris, "You'll not send in any report until you have our permis- sion? Is that a go?" The repor- ter nodded. "Good man,' " said the sleuth, “Anyhow no other paper will have a line. We'll see to that."
A
honk-honking in the distance, growing nearer and nearer, then the Chief Constable appeared, hav-
spirit, having refused hot bang been admitted by Amos............. He'
and other "concomitants, he peared to regain his quondam geniality, and he asked Avant in a quiet tone, “I suppose it is that ed business of young Vernic that
was a tall, finely-built man, still a good deal of the Army Major he had been. "What's this I hear, Vivian?” Then to Avant and Norris,
I'll call yo
"Clear out, when I want