MASTERS OF THE PARACHUTE MAIL

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 60, Issue 44, 1 December 1939, Page 7

MASTERS OF THE PARACHUTE MAIL

J By PETER BENEDICT :: (Copyright). J w A Gripping Romantic Story of Modern Methods in an ancient j Smuggling Trade.

CHAPTER XI. (Continued)

business of it that Corrie had gathered up tAvo of them, and Avas carefully levelling them side by side in the palm of her hand, by the time Peggy had the remaining four in the case. Peggy breathed quickly and shalloAvly; she Avished there could have been an infallible recipe for going Avhitc on request, but it seemed possible to her, from the alternate chilling and burning of her cheeks, that she Avas, by sheer force of acting, doing something equally effective. She really did feel a little faint, for the pinch came iioav. If Corrie suspected a deliberate trick, her game Avas up. She hurried on: “I ahvays carry tAvo cases—it AA'as crazy of me! I can’t think Avhat made me pick up that case. They’re nothing like—not/ in the least ,—Queer, the tricks your mind plays you Avhen it’s running on tAvo things at a time, isn’t it? I—have the Turkish here ’ ’

“i WANT SOME DOPE!”

“What is it you want?” • “Some mariajuana cigarettes, please. “Great Scott!” said Peter, startled, “whatever for?” “They’re the most American sort of dope I'can think of. If you know of a better and more characteristic form, I’ll use it. No,” she said reassuringly, smiling at his quizzical face, “I’m not proposing to acquire the habit for local colour. I don’t go as far on -realism as all that. But I’ve got to establish contact somehow, and she’s coming to have tea with me here next Tuesday; and I thought that if I really had some of the guilty stuff on me, and let her know it confidence would be more likely to establish itself. I mean —well, I’m supposed to be rich —worth plucking--and they have goods to sell, haven't they? And it can’t be so very easy for a dopecrazy to get much of the stuff through the customs. Can you get it for me? Just half a dozen would do—in fact, that’s all I need.”

“YOU HAVEN’T ANY RESERVES?”

She hovered, poising the one case, waiting to receive the last, contributions to the other. She Avas afraid she had overdone it. Corrie Avas A r ery quiet, looking placidly at the twq cigarettes m her hand. Presently she said, her voice very low and soft in the silence: “But I should say these are excellent! Do you keep them for your own use?” And she lifted them deliberately, and inhaled the heavy scent of them, and her dark eyes lifted to Peggy’s face. Peggy took a hold on herself. Eleanor Avonld be—if she existed—a woman of some philosophy, and self-control; that spurt of nerves Avould do no harm, considering that the idea Avas to convince Corrie that she had to do Avith a drugaddict; hut here began the case for a calm front. (She sat back, and met and held the steady eyes, a slight smile in her OAvn. She said Avith a shrug, her glance never Avavering: “Not many people care for them, I find. Not in this country. So I seldom offer them.” “And Avhat are they?” asked Corrie. still in that intimate voice.

“I can,” said Peter carefully. “And you will?” she said, scenting the difference.

“Well—if you solemnly swear to me not to touch it yourself, on any account —yes, I will.” “I don’t swear anything of the kind,” said Peggy indignantly. “I’ve no intention of touching it—but if I get into a tight corner, and conviction needs it, then frankly, I shall smoke crazy weed if , I think fit. You don’t think I’m fool enough to light the beastly things if I can help it, do you?” “No,” said Peter, “I don’t. All right, I’ll get you some. You shall have them ready for Tuesday afternoon.” CHAPTER XII. WRONG CIGARETTE CASE. Corrie Cowle came into the Malbro on the following Tuesday afternoon in the region of half-past three, and found Miss Vandeleur waiting for her in ;

corner of the ldunge. 'She looked round her with the usual slow, languid and graceful indifference, and found the pale blonde coils of hair, and advanced iipon them Avith an unmoved face. Not an effusive woman. Even her smile Avas cool and aloof. And as for her thoughts, no one could be expected to make > v_n a reasonably accurate guess at them. Actually, reflected Peggy, rising to meet her, her motives for coming there Avere probably as shalloAV and rational as the' hafPcuriosity Avhich moves idle women to draAV from one another tales they do not believe, nor particularly Avant to hear. She had an afternoon to Avhile aAvay, Avithout any particular spin’, or any attractive programme. Eleanor Avas someone iicav and unexplored, and at any rate not distasteful, and she rather Avanted to see the miniatures.

“A taste I acquired in Panama They’re Spanish American tobacco.”

“And ■?” It Ayas Corrie iioav Avhp smiled, balancing the two slender stems on their ends upon the table. She hummed softly to herself a feAV bars of “La Cucaracha.”

There Avas a brief silence then. They looked at each other, and Peggy spread her hands. “Well? I guess that lets me Avell in——”

“I Avouldn’t Avorry, if I Avere you You don’t stand alone.” She pushed the two little cylinders across the table. “Here, put them aAvay. I don’t indulge, mj r self. These South American tobaccos are rather—heavy ” “The day after!”, said Peggy, and gave a short laugh as she scooped the offending smokes back into the case, and hid the case in her bag. “You gave me a scare. Or I gave myself one! What a fool trick to carry the thing; but to tell the truth, I forgot it. As a rule it’s under lock and key in my room. Supposing I’d made that break Avith anyone less civilised than you?” She patted the handbag, Avith a sigh of reliof and regret. “Poor little. Mary Jane! What am I going to do without her? Hoav shall I get the sparkle, Avhen these six’little Avhiffs are gone?” Corrie looked at her steadfastly. A neAV interest had come into her glance, and a new speculation. She looked like a clever and keen saleslady Avaiting her chance; even her thin but lovely features had sharpened into a hungry look of greed. “You’re probably shocked,” said Peggy philosophically. “Wtell, Avhy not? We all have our little vices, and not all of them are nice. Mariajuana—little Mary Jane—she keeps me sane, she makes me good company, she puts the taste in the champagne, and the rhythm in the hand. What kick have I got coming?—until I’ve smoked the sixth—and last?” “You haven’t any reserves left?” said Corrie, Avith deep sympathy; and her dark eyes glittered upon Peggy’s face. v “YOU KNOW A PLACE?” Peggy leaned fonvard upon her eIboAVS on the table. She ansAvered deliberately: “What do you think? Ever tried to get this sort of thing through the Customs? Hoav I got aAvay Avith the tAventy-odd I had on me is more than I knoAv; and even for those I had some aAvful moments. No, after these six are gone, I’m finished, unless I can contact some sort of supply here in London. Don’t tell me there must he one. Don’t I know it? But lioav to get at it, when I’m still practically a stranger here, is a hit of a problem.” “Can’t your boy-friend help you out?” asked Corrie, Avith a sly smile.

This Avas genuine enough, and Peggy never doubted it. Corrie had an artistic spot, like her grandmother, but located differently; though by all accounts. Lady CoAvle Avas the universal Avoman, as opposed to the Renaissance universal man.

Peggy, secure in her daily make-up at the hands of Lilia’s myrmidon, and perhaps still more secure in Sylvia’s smartest afternoon frock, a creation in a luminous dark green which made her blondeness eerie, met flier Avith the brazen aplomb she had come to expect of herself.

“Miss Cowle! This is nice! Would you prefer tea in my rooms, or here? Or there’s a quiet little lounge upstairs Avith a balcony over the park ’’ “The park, please. Maybe avc can get a little fresh air there; I’ve been hunting for some all day, I don’t believe there’s any in London.” But the looked cool as frozen silk. They had tea in the balcony, in a corner three sides open to Avhat little breeze there Avas moving in the still, hot air. It Avas beautifully private there; no one Avas within earshot, and no one even closely within sight, for the balcony ran a little Avay round the corner of the building, and theil* table was in the quiet corner.

They talked painting, and came to the modern miniatures by a process of elimination. Peggy had already examined them, and Avas more than willing to admit that she aAvaited the judgment of Corrie upon them. She had read up the subject Avith some anxiety, for* it Avas not -one of her strong points; hut a little specialist jargon, learned up for the occasion, Avent a long Ayay Avith some success. She had not had time to forget any of the catch-Avords. Peggy sat upon a Aviclcer settee, with various (possessions artfully scattered round her, gloves, handbag, a green chiffon scarf Avhich Lilias had taught her to Avind into a turban round her hair. It served the double purpose of looking picturesque and protecting the blonde Avig from stray breezes. i

Peggy laughed. “He doesn’t knoAv I indulge. I hadn’t the faintest notion lioav it Avould be received here, so I’vj strangled it doAvn as much as I could. No, somehoAV I don’t think Peter ” What a lovely name it Avas for indulging an American accent of synthetic creation! Turn the T almost into a D, and there you Avere, Avith that fascinating slurred R at the end. Made for the job of sounding engagingly U.S, “I don’t think he Avould feel Avhat you might call sympathetic to the failing. He has no vices, poor lamb. No real full-blooded ones, anyhoAV. He Avouldn’t understand about poor little Mary Jane.”

Noav she hunted A r aguely and languidly among all this litter of scented trifles, fumbled in her hag, and produced a cigarette-case. She Avas talking rapidly as she opened it and held it out to Corrie.

The tapered finger-tips Avere almost touching the cigarettes Avhen Peggy glanced doAvn as if by instinct, and her sentence snapped off in the middle, and her loA’elv mouth fell slack for one appalled and appalling second, as if she had found herself handling dynamite. She snatched back the case, but Corrie’s fingers had already touched it, and the AvithdraAval sent the case clattering upon the tray betAveen them, and the cigarettes flying among the cups. “I’m sorry,” said Peggy, her hand artistically shaking, her eyes Avide and blank, and her voice stumbling and sticking upon the cadence of -the second Avord in a lilt more American than ever. “I. —I picked up the Avrong case — .1 meant to offer you Turkish ” She began to pick up the few scattered cigarettes; there Avere only six of them, but her fingers made such a

She patted her handbag affectionately. “It’s hopeless, isn’t it? Mary Jane is my best friend, she makes life worth living, she puts the cockcrow in the dawn, and. the dazzle in the evening; and I’ve practically lost her. How am I going to live without my crazyweed? It’s the only decent way of taking the stuff, too. The sniff is a filthy habit; and how can a girl go about with an arm mottled with syringe, pricks. No, the smoke’s the only way, and I’m down to my last six. Gosh, it makes me wish I’d stayed in the States. T

knew where to get it on demand there ” “Expensive habit, isn’t it?” said Come, watching her speculatively still, with eyes narrowed in her face. “Expensive? I wonder! Wait until youVe had it for three years, and miss ed your whiff for three weeks or so, and see if you think it a high price when someone says: ‘Here you are—r tenner a time.’ I’ve gone slowly, as you can guess. I’ve held down my sup ply to the minimum I can take, but I don’t see how I’m to live without it If only I knew how to set about finding a supply in London! Or how to find someone who could tell me the rest.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Ah, well, what’s the use? It isn’t your worry, and I’m sorry you found out about it. Just forget it. Let’s go and look at miniatures, shall we?” She half-rose from her chair. Corrie did not stir. Instead she said suddenly, and very softly: “Wait a moment! L think I might be able to help you. Sib down again—just for a moment.” “How—how can you help me ?” But Peggy sat down again, slowly, tolerantly, to hear what childish confidence might 'follow. Strangely she felt older than Corrie, so much more successful had been her strategy. “I said Td never indulged, and it’s true. But, I have lived in 'London all my life, and my acquaintance is somewhat wide. I don’t go about with my eyes closed. “You know a place ” '

“Where you can get what you want —at a price. As a matter of fact, 1 have been there at least once, and it certainly looks innocent enough. It’s a club called the Green Scorpion, in a cellar under a warehouse off Oxford Street.”

“How do I get to it? Does one have to be an initiate, or something?”

“No one who wasn’t an initiate or sent by one would e.ven know it existed. You take the narrow passage past Sabeel’s perfume shop, any time after eleven at night until round about three in the morning, and you’ll find a door on your right, in the warehouse wall, with a fanlight above it. The green scorpion is on the fanlight; you’d never notice it in daylight. The club’s underneath; the usual dance, and cabaret facilities—maybe a little more respectable looking even than usual. But when you go-—. If you go ” “When I go,” said Peggy, with quiet satisfaction. (To be continued.)