Evening Star Newspaper, September 15, 1935, Page 98

Magazine Section THIS WEEK Falcon (Castle (ontinuing a new murder mystery by AUGUSTUS MUIR Author of “The Riddle of Garth’ and other best sellers SUMMARY OF CHAPTERS I AND II HEN Alan Irvine ‘;\/ arrived at Falcon Castle in the High- lands of Scotland, he found that strange things had been happening. Through the death of his grandfather, Felix Swin- burn, Alan had fallen heir to the place, and he tried to unravel the mystery of why the old man had been living like a hermit in this lonely house on a mountainside, with two elderly servants to attend to him. Also, old Swinburn was supposed to have squandered his fortune, and yet for some time he had been drawing a good income from some strange source. On a wintry night with the snow falling heavily, Lucille Paradene arrived at Falcon Castle with a middle-aged man called Mr. Paul. They appeared surprised at the news of Felix Swinburn’s.death, but they re- fused to tell Alan the object of their visit. What puzzled Alan was that Lucille Para- dene and Mr. Paul seemed to be in terror lest they had been followed to Falcon Castle. He felt that their presence there had something to do with the mystery which had surrounded his late grandfather’s life; and in the early hours of the morning, hearing a noise in the house, he went to investigate. In his grandfather's gloomy bedroom, he found the dead body of Mr. Paul fastened against the panelling of the wall with a knife through his throat. No trace of the murderer could be found, and by next morning the dead body had been mysteriously spirited away. To add to Alan's difficulties, snow had been falling heavily during the night, and Falcon Castle was com- pletely shut off from the outside world. More- over, the telephone line had been cut. Smoke could be seen coming from the chim- neys of Falcon Lodge, a small house near the Castle. The owner, Mr. Roger Barnett, must have arrived the previous evening; that fore- noon Mr. Barnett himself made his way through the snow to pay Alan a visit. He said he was very anxious to rent Falcon Castle on behalf of a friend. When Lucille Paradene unexpectedly entered the room, and caught sight of Mr. Roger Barnett, she was plainly very much upset. CHAPTER III UCILLE PARADENE'S lips were white, and in her big dark eyes there was deathly fear. The next moment her expression changed. “I'm sorry, Mr. Irvine,”” she said, giving me a quick smile. I didn't know you had a visitor."” She was about to withdraw, but I told her to come in. “Mr. Barnett is my neighbor here,”” I explained. ‘‘He lives at Falcon Lodge, a little way along the hillside.” “I had no idea there was a guest in the house, Mr. Irvine,” said Roger Barnett with an easy laugh, as he shook hands with the girl. Although Lucille Paradene had so quickly recovered her composure, the look I had caught in her eyes was perturbing me, but I decided to ignore it for the present. “Miss Paradene arrived here yesterday on a IHllustration by Karl Godwin — w - f - 5 {.‘_ -, visit to my grandfather,” I said slowly. “‘She didn't know the old man had died."” “I'm not surprised,” remarked Mr. Barnett. “1 didn’t know about it myself until Friday afternoon. Well, I suppose I ought to be get- ting back through the snow, Mr. Irvine." “You'll drink a glass of sherry first?” I suggested, and rang the bell. I was sorry he was going so soon, for there were several things about the man that puzzled me, and I was anxious to learn a little more about him. “Why not stay to lunch?” I suggested. He shook his head. “Thank you, no. I've something to attend to over at my house, and my chauffeur is preparing a meal for me."” “By the way, if you run short of food." I told him, “I hope you'll let me know. I believe we have a well-stocked larder.” Thanking me, he said he was confident that the roads would be open in a couple of days, a hope which struck me as optimistic. Since Dunstan had failed to appear in answer to my summons. I went off to tell him to bring the sherry. He was shovelling snow in the courtyard at the back, and had not heard the bell. With an apology, he hurried down to the cellar to decant a bottle of my grandfather's wine. When I returned to the dining room, Mr. Barnett and Lucille Paradene were joking about the discomforts of being snowed up in a lonely part of the Highlands, but I felt there was something strained in their tone. Al- though they had behaved like strangers. I had the curious feeling that they had met before. If this were the case, why was Lucille Paradene concealing the fact from me? ( ' * i ‘_l‘ ' & A" ~ { — September 15, 1935 When Lucille saw that the visitor was Roger Barnett, she drew back in sudden fright After Mr. Barnett had finished his sherry and departed. it was on the tip of my tongue to ask her point-blank if she had known Mr. Barnett previously, but she broke out with a rapid question: ‘“Who is that man?" “I've already told you,” I answered de- liberately. ‘‘He lives at Falcon Lodge." “Have you — have you told him about Mr. Paul?"’ she asked quickly. I replied that I had not. That was a matter for the policealone; until the affair was cleared up, it was obvious that everyone in the vicin- ity of Falcon Castle must be under suspicion. “But I had another reason for not mentioning it to him,” I added. ‘‘Bluntly, I'm not quite sure that I trust Mr. Barnett. He declares that he motored up here yesterday to try and rent this house from me on behalf of a friend of his."” The girl's eyes opened wide, but she made no response. “I asked you several questions last night, Miss Paradene,”’ I said pointedly. ‘“‘And I'm still anxious to know why you and Mr, Paul came here." She hesitated. ‘‘Didn’t he tell you he'd re- ceived a message from Mr. Swinburn?”' “And I beg leave to doubt it,” I said, sharply. “I'd like to know the real motive that brought you two to Falcon Castle.” She drew a long breath. ‘‘Mr. Irvine, you've been perfectly sweet to me —and I'll never forget your kindness. But I plead with you not to ask me anything more.” ““Why not?" I asked impatiently. “Can’t you see, I'm anxious to help you? I'd do any- thing — anything." “I know!"" She spoke softly, and her fingers rested on my sleeve. '‘That’s what makes it so hard for me to — to refuse. I need your help, Mr. Irvine — I need it more than I can tell you. Won't you trust me?”’ I remained stock-still. There was a note of appeal in her voice which it was impossible to ignore, and I wondered what favor she was going to ask. ““How can I tell whether I trust you or not, Miss Paradene?’ I said to her. “Forgive me if I speak so candidly. I know nothing about you. Even after what happened in the night, you refuse to say a word.” I deliberately turned my back on her, and walked across to the window. ‘“You said you wanted me to help you,” I added coldly. ‘“What would you like me to do?"” “Can’t you keep the police out of this?"’ she asked in a voice that was scarcely above a whisper. “Not tell the police!” I swung round and stared at her. “Do you know what you're asking? Hush up a murder — the thing’s im- possible. I'm bound to report it as soon as I can.” She bowed her head, and her hands fell to her side. “Yes, I suppose you must." “More than that,” 1 went on, “they’'ll (Continued on page 12)