HAPPY LANDING

Ashburton Guardian, Volume 61, Issue 74, 8 January 1941, Page 7

HAPPY LANDING

1 By BASIL HAYE. :: Story of a Fine Pilot in Adversity.

CHAPTER IV

“!’M AT THE WASHINGTON!”

‘•(Listen. ...” She lowered heavoice to what was almost a whisper. “You said that man —in . the Place Maroc —was murdered —* —” “He was.”

“Mr Gregorescu, who was with you to-day, knew I was going to, that house that night.. He may think it was I who killed his brother—■—”

“He very probably does,” Bond agreed dm such a casual way as clearly angered the girl. “Do you mean that—that you’re on his side?” she asked sharply. “You certainly seemed very friendly wiri him, I noticed.” “I’ve my own reasons for being that,” was all Bond wbuld answer, and again over the wire he heard her little involuntary exclamation of indignation. !

“I don’t understand you at all —• —” iShe remained silent, as if she were thinking deeply, then went on: “You helped me get away that night, and now —when 1 want you to help me again—you speak as if it didn’t matter. I must talk to you to-night. It must bo to-night, because I’m going to Sunnigholme in the morning. I’ll stay in till yqu come. I’m at the Washington “At the Washington?” he gasped, andr—before he could say any more—she went on rapidly:

“Yes, the Washington. Suite No. 42. Have me paged <” “Listen *—” he stopped her, but only for an instant. “I’ll listen to no excuses!” she told him. “I’ll be expecting you Again, before he could say a word, she prevented him. This time, by ringing off at her end. The line was dead. This was the second invitation to the Washington Hotel he had received for this evening. It was an immense building that hotel. It was hardly so immense, however, that Delma Vivian and the mysterious Gregorescu —both occupying suites there- —could very well avoid meeting each other. It really was not Bond’s business if they did. Nor was it his business whatever might happen as a result. Indeed, from the point of view of his own activities, he would be wise if he kept right out of that little matter. However, it wasn’t, as easy as all that. He had .been foolishly chivalrous as to help Delma Vivian out of the house in the Place Maroc on that night a year gone. And now, as if to emphasise that fact, here she was renting his property at Sunningholme. The wise landlord watches over his tenant’s interests. One thing was ceriain. He dared not shirk his eight o’clock appointment with Gregorescu. Not that he was afraid of any man alive. He was far more afraid of the causes, the activities, behind them. ; For that reason alone his appointment with the Rumanian had to stand, which meant that he had to go to the Washington Hotel in any case. Sk> he might just .as well kill two birds with one stone, and look in on Delma Vivian.

The Washington, as its name indicated, represented an hotelier syndicate’s attempt to create in London noy only an opportunity for American visitors to stay at a home from home, but to popularise the American hotel system over Britain. WITH LIGHTS FULL ON. Bond, a quarter of an hour before hi s time to see Gregorescu, occupied an unobtrusive seat in a cornier of the i immense lounge. [Rut the seat he had chosen Avas in such a position that he could slip up the broad, carpeted stairAvay Avithout being noticed. Which Avas one reason why he had arrived so early. He Avas making sure that he had not been folloAved. , Watching the seethe of. hotel guests and visitors Avith a practised eye, he was convinced that no such idea need worry him. Everything in fact, seemed to he working his Avay, he told himself. Looking back on recent months indeed, matters had moved' easily for him. almost as if the mechanism of life had been Avell oiled to his advantage. This meeting Avith Gregorescu to-day Avas a case in point. If he hadn’t run across Delma Vivian, and been taken at her suggestion to the Toreadlor Restaurant, he'might not have knoAvn Gregorescu Avas in London. It was helpful that he had known at this particular moment. Gregorescu Avas able to give him certain information he badly avanted, and Avhich nobody else could give in time for his needs. Bondi had indeed only knoiwta that fact Avithin the last,day or so, so the fact of meeting him in this unexpected way Avas an almost miraculous gift. Bond, Avith the thrum of orchestral music and the talk of the croAvd disturbing his thoughts, glanced once again impatiently at the face of the clock Avhich he could see up the centie of the fan-shaped hotel-bureau. He was surprised to find that the hands of it still pointed to a quartei to eight o’clock, just as they had pointed when. he had entered the vast sweep of the palm-foyer. It needed nothing to tell him that, while he Avas sitting here waiting, the clock must have stopPG He glanced at the wrist-Avatch he Avas Aveaying. The hand's of this indicated precisely eleven minutes past eight. That brought Bond to his feet, with an involuntary little exclamation of annoyance. He Avasted not an instant in ascending the broad staimvay Avith its crimson carpeting and magnificent stwieep round the gilt-caged lifts. He came, .in the curve of a corridor, outside Suite No. 5. He moved on, finding 'Suite No. /. and proceeded that Avay —so it seemed —for miles. He had met no one atall whom at last he stood outside the cream-enamelled door on Avhich were the metal figures 17. He Avas about to press the LeiL push, when he Avas surprised to find the door ajar. . , Still, h© pressed the electric button, and the hell jangled! noisily within. Then, after long ivaiting, he could near no signs of anyone answering tno ling He pushed the door still further open. He could see that the lights Avere on at full in the little entrance-foyer, with doors open from this straight ahead and to the right of him. He began to Avonder if by chance ho had misunderstood the number Greg oi’escu had given him, for this suit*-' seemed —so far as he could roe- unoccupied. However, to make sure, he

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thrust into the foyer and on into the room on the right. The suite was still occupied. But — Avith what?

NO TALK WITH GREGORESCU The electric light was burning brilliantly as Bond stepped into the room, oif the right side ol the entrance-foyer of the suite, as seen from the door. The room ivas sparsely furnished, in the modern way, for the reception of guests, Avith divans 1 , chairs and an odd small table or two. There was a radio .set oil one of the tables, aud—as Bond stepped over the tln-eshold—the voice of an announcer said;— “We regret that, OAviiig to some slight technical fault, transmission has been impossible on this wave-iength for ten minutes.”

Passing round toivards the other side of the table, he bent over Avliat he had seen.

Gregorescu Avas quite dead. The back of his head had been struck violently. Bond Avas as quick to decide his course of action ,for this was not the first time in his life he. had tumbled oil a similar situation. He glanced round the room, registering siviftly and permanently in his mincl the details and position of everything he could see. The odd books lying around. The silken garment Avhich someone had recently been mending, Avith the needle and thread in it, loosely hung on the edge of a* divan. The decanter containing brandy, the untouched siphon and two unused glass goblets on a tray. A partly-open door from one end of the room led, Bond discovered, to a bedroom. It was empty. There Avas another door leading from this room, but that Avas closed. .

After a comprehensive glance round the bedroom he came hack to the body. He Avalked past it, and out into the carpeted corridor beyond the front door. He left this, as he had found it, just slightly ajar, and began Avalking rapidly toAvards the staircase.

At the head of the stairs he collided with a red-haired page, wearing the smart puce coloured uniform of the hotel. The boy, doubtless thinking himself to blame, apologised. Bond forced a laugh, and—so as to explain his presence on this floor—said he had lost his way. He Avas looking for Sluite 42

“Next floor np, sir!” the boy directed, suggesting that he should ring for the lift, but Bond stopped him. “I’ll use the stairs,’ he said. He found the front door of 42 Avith far greater, ease than that of Suite No. 17. The front door was closed, and he used the bull-push. A maid answered, regarding him Avith disapproval till he spoke. “My name is Bond,” he explained. “I believe Miss Vivian is expecting me.’’

As the maid showed him in, announcing him, Delma rose from before a Avriting table. “I was sure you Avouldn’t let me down!” she greeted him, and gestured her maid. “Bring Mr Bond'a drink, Lena.” Dellma Vivian saAv that he Avas not quite himself. She said with some surprise: “Whatever’s the matter Avith you? You look as if you’ve'seen a ghost!” “I’m perfectly all .right. Never felt more fit in mv life.”

He was perhaps just a little shocked over the discovery he had made. But most of all, so far as he Avas concerned, he thought of it as a .personal calamity, because noAv he Avouid never get out of Gregorescu that vital spark of information he had so badly been needing. He was already turning quickly to the counter move he must make, so that his lost clue might he picked up from some other source. “I SAW HIM KILLED.” He dared not aJIoAV himself to be involved in this affair. He had to keep right out of it, knoAV nothing about it. -So much lay behind it. Nobody—among the public—could possibly guess how much. For the general public could not see Avhat reaction might occur over the vast map of Europe, the agitated Avhisperings behind the closed doors of many chancelleries, the hurried conferences betAveen military heads of staff in more than one capital. Gregorescu had been murdered. He Avouid certainly say nothing to Delma Vivian, who would hear about it soon enough. She had nothing to fear from Gregorescu now, anyway. He Avas glad, therefore, of the •stiff brandy the maid brought him. Delma Vivian lit a cigarette, and Avas studying him interestedly as she curled on a cushioned and open window-seat, the cool night air spraying her, the rumble of London lifting from the maze of streets and squares beloAV. “I expect you’ve been calling me a fool for getting the jitters over Gregorescu?” she began, and shrugged her shoulders. “Wiell, I just couldn’t help it. You don’t knoAV the Avliole story. If you did—” “Why not tell me?” he suggested, more than anything to pass the time, listening—or appearing to do so —Avhile actually he Avas thinking out the new situation created hv the crime in Suite No. 17. „ , “All the information you offered me on that night in the Place Maroc didn’t go far,”- he added. “Something to the effect that you Avere a theatrical, and stranded in Marseilles, and—more or less inveigled into that house by a designing male, a poor little fluttering dove in the bloated coils of a python— ’’ “All of Avhich Avas strictly true. Mr Gregorescu’s brother ran the brasserie there Avhich employed me—and others. But that Avas really nothing.” “The real jpsue of course, Avas lioav the brother —knoAvn as Chico Gregorescu— came to bo killed that night.” “Exactly. Well ” , She glanced around the big room, as if it might hold lurking ears, before she added: “I’d better tell you that— I saw him killed;, ■v, “At least, I didn’t know then that he actually died. I never heard that till you told me. At the time, I Avas hidden. Gregorescu had pushed me out of sight. As you know —aftenvards, I got away and ran into you—” “You mean—you actually saw who killed Chico Gregorescu?” Bond interrupted, surprised, suddenly more interested. She shook her head. “No. I Avas behind the curtain, you see. I only heard the man’s voice. He and Mr Gregorescu quarrelled over—it sounded to me something about a French military secret, some papers Mr Gregorescu wouldn’t give up. It all

happened in an instant. I heard Mr Gregorescu cry out, and then there was a sound of a heavy fall, and silence ...” She was silent herself for quite a minute now before she whispered, “there Avasn’t anyone ’but Mr Gregorescu there Avhen I came out from behind the curtain and—then I met you on the stairs.”

Bond drank some more brandy, n:nd helped himself to a cigarette from a little jeivelled case on the table. “There is another point,” she continued ,“a question I’ve been asking myself since I met you to-day. How came it that you Avere so conveniently on the spot, standing on the stairs just below the door of Mr Gregorescu’s apartment?” “Are you suggesting that I committed the crime?” he asked sharply. “I heard the other man talking. His voice Avas nothing like yours.

“But—” she Avas obviously bent on pressing her point ‘ ‘ —it lias since seemed strange to me that you should have been on those stairs just then.” (To be Continued.)

The characters in this story are entirely imaginary. No reference is intended to any living person or to any public or private company.