CRIME AND MYSTERY.

Auckland Star, Volume LVII, Issue 258, 30 October 1926, Page 23

CRIME AND MYSTERY.

DACRE OF DENNISON SQUARE.

ROUTING A CHINESE GANG OF ROBBERS.

(By D. MACMILLAN _ttn_.)

It was approaching noon, the boar of the morning cocktail, and the spacious lounge ot the Cafe Uerillon was ailed by the nsnai motley cosmopolitan gathering—satiatemen about town striving to while away an hour of bored existence, some members oi the theatrical profession, one or two newspaper men, and the usual smattering ol sharp-witted parasites watchful for any prey in the form of unsuspecting and gullible Tisitors to the Metropolis. At a small table In the far corner near the entrance to tne restaurant aat a party of three, two men and a woman. The men were obviously Orientals, though Immaculately dresseo, according to the latest West End fashion, the woman, beautiful In a bold arrogant way, was French to her finger tips, and her expensive raiment reflected the beßt inspiration of the Hue de la Pals. The most outstanding personality of the trio was the big ponderous Chinaman; a man with a massive head, heavy feature-, his skin yellow and parchment-lite as v stretched over a drum, flat nosed with wide nostrils and small narrow watchful, but inscrutable, eyes. He was speaking softly in smooth, unemotional tones—his voice •trangely small for one of such massive proportions. "Recent events make it desirable that this man be removed—put out of the way like others who have made themselves Inconvenient to ns," he said. "We must act at once," agreed his-male companion, a slim, swarthy ferret-faceu Oriental—not Chinese, but hailing probaoiy from some part of the Malayan Peninsula, "he works quietly and quickly, and he has been much in her ladyship's company—even now he may be planning something." "Easy to speak so," remarked the woman, Marie Mortaguet, sipping her Picon moodily, "but you forget, we do not even know what he is lik,e." The big man, who was known among his associates are Hankow Cheng, permitted his •ensual lips to slacken into a smile, disclosing several gold-crowned teeth. Mitra Selung, the slim man, leered at his massive chief In feigned astonishment, but well he knew that Hankow Cheng's spies were many and efficient. At the very hour when this interesting conversation was taking place in tha lounge of the Uerillon, Dacre, the unsuspecting subject, was immersed in the study of a number of news cuttings which littered his large consulting table at Dennlson Square. These referred to a series of bewildering robberies, which of late had assumed something like epidemic form In the country, and were taxing the Ingenuity ot the best brains in the criminal investigation department. The case which had a special interest for Dacre was that Involving the loss of Lady Montforth's Jewels. Briefly, the circumstances were as follow: On board the Dover boat train on her way to Paris Lady lfontforth, a charming widow of thirty-live or thereabouts, and, as all the world knows, a prominent and popular member of London •oclety. requested her maid Travers, a trusted and privileged servant, who always travelled with-her, to make quite certain that a certain piece of jewellery had been put In her travelling jewel case. The mala took down from the-rack a small alligator .kin-covered dressing-case, and, obtaining the keys from her mistress, opened it. a—v abstracted a small jewel case covered in morocco. The jewel case wub empty! Her ladyship took the next train back to London, and at once reported the matter to the police. -II that could be established was that the jewels must have been stolen between ten o'clock the previous night ana the time of her ladyship's departure that morning. Beyond that, although all the ■ervants were closely Interrogated by the police, and willingly anbmltted to an examination of their belongings, nothing couia te discovered. Her ladyship immediately concluded, In view of the circumstances, that the robbery wai tht work of some clever gang of international thieves. She lost no time In calling personally upon Dacre, and persuaded him to take up the case. Dacre, after a tremendous amount ot careful atndy of the circumstances of the various robberies which of late had startlea the country, had convinced himself that they were the work of one well-organised gang of professional thieves, operating on a large scale. The same evening about five o'clock, as Dacre sat enjoying a cup of tea and the Inevitable cheroot, the telephone rang. "Dr Dacre," inquired a pleasant female voice, "yes7—Lady Montfsrth's secretary speakings Her ladyship has asked mc to telephone yon, to say that she has made an Important discovery regarding the loss or her jewels, and could you possibly come to ■cc her to-night before going on to the Albert Hall? If quite agreeable to-yon her ladyship proposes sending her car for you about eight-thirty, and you could afterward* go on with her party to the baU, as she will have a vacant teat in the car." •'Certainly." replied Dacre, "that will suit mc nicely; as it happens I am meeting ■ Bomber of friends there, but Intended going alone—will you kindly Inform her ladyship! Thank you, good-bye." Sharp to the minute at elght-thlrtj. Hoggins knocked at the door of Dacrea dressing-room and announced that Lady Montforth's car was below. Attacked ia the Lady*. Car. At tbe Marble Arch the car swung Into Hyde Park. It was a cold moist night in March, inteneely dark, and the park was almost deserted. They were running smoothly along the wide avenue In the direction oif Hyde Park Corner, when suddenly the Interior lights snapped out. The next moment a heaTy spray of oome Btrong-smelllng liquid struck Dacre full «■ the face. Almost blinded by the discharge, and Instantly realising that he had fall" 1 Into a trap, he cursed hir self for a fool, and grabbed the window strap in the endeavour to get' air, for the fumes were suffocating. The windows would not more —he then tried to smash one of them even at the risk of cutting himself, but that the power of movement was leaving him; his arm fell limp and helpless ana the next moment consciousness left him ana he collapsed Inert on the floor of the car Begainlng consciousness several hours later—the luminous dial on his wristlet watch indicated one o'clock—Dacre founo himself In a small boudoir-like chamber. Illuminated by a soft glow Of diffused bine light, so faint that It was only with dttn culty he could distinguish Ms surroundings. There was one door, lacquered in rich dara blue colour to match the other woodwork; he concluded that the door would certainly he locked, but was about to try the handle to make sure when the sound of approaching footsteps smote hia ear. He decided to try his luck with a ruse. Quickly throwing himself back on the conch he feigned to be. still unconscibus. Through finely narrcwea eyelids Dacre could see the blue muzzle of an automatic pistol appearing round the edge of tha door" Immediately followed by the holder, a weird, gaunt, but muscular Oriental. Perceiving Dacre at_l to-rt .on tha couch he lowered _ls automatic, steppea

stealthlly forward and aurveyed hla apparently unconscious prisoner who, to further sustain the deception, was simulating the heavy long-drawn breathing of a druggeo person. The ru»e worked perfectly. From below his eyelashes Dacre could see the gleam of the automatic—it was within a few inches from where his right hand lay limp upon the couch. Quick as thought he snatched the weapon and at the same time dealt the fellow a heavy blow in the stomach; with a grunt the man collapsea like a burst balloon and lay winded, sick and helpless. On the front of his tunic, embroidered in Bcarlet and yellow, was the device of a Chinese sampan or houseboat and underneath the words "Sampan Club." He found himself at the top of a welllighted corridor about fifteen feet long. He was about to investigate when he heard the sound of laughter coming from somewhere at the other end, and had barely time to jump into a small recess on the opposite side of the room he had just left when he heard footsteps approaching along the corridor. He risked a cautious glance and saw a slim, dark man and a very goodlooking woman; they were laughing, and as they came nearer he heard the man say: "At last we shall see what the great Dr. Dacre Is like—l aent Lung Foo to prepare him for our visit, '•He seemed a nice man from his Tolce on the telephone," returned the woman with a ripple of laughter, "and I hope I sounded a nice 'secretary.'" At the woman's remark the full significance of the position struck him; she was the one who had played the part of the bogus "secretary." The man and his companion —who were none other than Mitra Selung and Marie Mortaguet, though the fact was unknown to Dacre—stopped outside the door of the room and tried the handle. "Curse Lung Foo," said Selung, "whereas he got to? He should have been here. Anyhow, i have a key—we'll have a loot at this clever doctor." Dacre heard him produce a bunch of keys and selecting one open the door. Then came a cry of surprise at beholding the prisoner had flown and Lung Foo, groaning on the floor, in his place. Turning the Tables. The doctor saw hia chance. Glancing out he found the woman had followed Selung Into the room. Instantly he grasped the handle, pulled the door to and locked it. The clamour within sounded sweet to his ears. Cautiously making his way along the corridor he descried on a small table a telephone. "Scotland Tard," he called quickly but softly into the mouthpiece. "Dacre speaking. Bald and surround the 'Sampan Club' immediately—l'm a prisoner —It's the headquarters of a big gang." ' Proceeding on his Investigations, be knew that he must be approaching the public rooms of the club. Beaching a broad staircase heavily carpeted in crimson, he ran lightly up the stairs, and at the top found himself In front of a pair of thick plush curtains. A large dance-hall sumptuously decorated in the most brilliant Oriental fashion was thronged with elegantly attired people, some dancing and many sitting at flower-laden tables placed around the hall. Dacre stood for a moment fascinated by the scene. He had no sooner entered, however, than his heart leapt with joy; at a table nearby, on the edge of the dancing floor, sat his friend Hatherall in company with several friends. Dacre had no longer any fears for his personal safety, but be was apprehensive of an alarm before the police arrived and the possible escape of the gang leaders. The next moment, however, he was reassured on this point. "Who is that hlg devil over tiers to the right—Just by the golden sampan?" he Inquired of Hatherall, as he sipped his drink with thankful appreciation. The Individual who had aroused Dacre's curiosity was a massive, heavy-headed, yellow-clad Chinese mandarin seated in the company of a bevy of pretty girls. "That, I'm told," replied Hatherall, "is the proprietor—the big chief of this gay Joint —Hankow Cheng." So far the big Chinaman was complacent —apparently nothing had yet reached his ears regarding the escape of his prisoner. Then things began to happen. Inspector Brand entered at the bottom of the room accompanied by three stalwart assistants; at the same time four other plain-clothes men entered'at another door. Just then an attendant approached Hankow Cheng and whispered something. With a quick glance be appeared to take In the position and immediately began to make hia way stealthily towards the swing doors by which Dacre bad gained admittance. With his hand In his pocket clutching the automatic pistol he had taken from Lung Foo, Dacre was ready. With a hasty request to Hatherall to follow him, he sped across the dance floor and passed through the swing-doors on the heels of the escaping leader of the gang. "Hands up, Mr. Cheng," he snapped as they came together on the stair-landing outside the plush curtains. The Chinaman wheeled round, startled by the sudden, unexpected demand. Almost lnvolnntarllF*_e made a weak attempt to pull a weapon, but the menacing glare in Dacre's eyes cowed him. He went flabby, turned a sickly green, and raised his hands aloft "Believe our friend of his gun, Hatherall," said Dacre, as the lawyer came througn the curtains; '"'youTl find it on his right hip." A moment or two later Brand's face appeared between the curtains. Whatever the sensation, the Inspector rarely showed emotion; he was always stolid—and BrWsn. "Here is your pilaoner. Brand," said the doctor; "the leader of the gang responsible for Lady Montforth's loss, and also, t suspect, for the Bromley Towers. Throgmorton Street, and Southampton robberies.' And so It came to pass. Dnder the guise of a popular and apparently well-conducted night resort, the Sampan Club was the headquarters of a clever and well-organised gang of International thieves. With regard to the case of Lady Montforth's jewels, the robbery had been carried out In a very simple manner, but at the hands of cool ana daring experts. One of Hankow Cheng's spies—Harris, a man with the face of an angel and the Instincts of a criminal —had some months previously obtained a aitnatlon with her ladyship as footman. Harris did not personally commit the theft—this would have been altogether too obvious—and had readily submitted to a police examination of his belongings In common with tbe other servants; but, after careful pre-arrangement, he had enabled another member of the gang, a highly-accomplished thief, to gain admittance to her ladyship's room while she was at the theatre and the servants at supper below stairs. A search of the premises of the Sampan dub brought to light ample evidence against the gang on ail counts, and long terms of Imprisonment relieved society of any. fear of further depredations at too hands of Hankow Cheng and Us associates for many years to come.