THE VENGEANCE OF HOP F1.

Auckland Star, Volume LIX, Issue 173, 24 July 1928, Page 15

THE VENGEANCE OF HOP Fl.

By PETER CHEYNEY.

CHAPTER XIX. Little was said on the journey back to London. Personally I had 110 desire to talk, the events of the evening having left me nearly speechless, besides which I was very tired. Marion Yarney. with her head on my shoulder, was sleeping quietly, and the Onlooker, after one whimsical glance in our direction, closed his eyes and gave a very fair imitation of being asleep for an hour or so. We left Marion at her flat in Kightsbridge, the Onlooker promising that he would communicate with her in the afternoon. Then we returned to the street to find Ling and the car gone. The Onlooker grinned. 'T thought that the Chink would take the opportunity of making a getaway whilst we were upstairs," he said. "Still, it doesn't matter much." We commenced to walk towards Berners Street. The Onlooker was silent for some minutes, then he put his arm I through mine and said: ''Well, John Relph, I think the balloon will go up in a minute, and at last we're going to come out into the open. Now as regards yourself, you've got to be back at the Cannon Street office on time. I've got an idea that Brandon isn't going to have any notion as to what happened, last night for quite a bit, and Stahlhauben and his bunch *>i"e going to sit back and think, too. Von Gratz is dead—that Chink is the slickest neck-breaker I've ever met in mv life—and without the services of Von Gratz, Stahlhauben has got to go slow. Incidentally he thinks that last night's work was a job of Brandon's. . . . Thank goodness he didn't recognise me! Brandon has got to do something in a minute, so 1 think that we must get old man Jevons prepared for the grand slam. Keep your eye on Brandon, Relph. Watch everybody who comes into that office to-morrow, and. if you can, remember them. Also, if you get the chance, search Brandon's private office. He's got to try and make a clean-up and a getaway in a minute, and he's liable to get careless. I'll get in touch with you some time in tlie afternoon. In the meantime, when you get home, have a hot bath and some coffee—you need it." He patted me 011 the shoulder. "So long, Relph. . . ." He turned off abruptly and disappeared. Four and a-half hours later Relph bathed and lay down for a couple of hours. His blue eyes were gleaming, and there was an expression on his face which boded no good for someone. He had closed the office door and walked over to where I sat.

"I regret to tell you. Mr. Relph, that I shall not need your services after tomorrow. I've made up my mind to close down in the course of a few days. Of course, you will receive a week's wages in lieu of notice. Incidentally, I have a business meeting in my office this afternoon, and you will .please tell anyone who calls to see me after three o'clock that I am out, and not expected back to-day." He went into his office, and I heard the lock click behind him.

As I entered Brennan's Buildings after my lunch, a small boy slipped a note into my hand. and disappeared promptly. I stood on the steps and opened the envelope. The note was from the Onlooker, and read: "Dear John Relph,—Things are coming our way at last! Get in touch with Jevons immediately, and request him to meet you at Conway's flat at eight o'clock to-niglit. Then bring him along to No. oC4, Park Lane. You'll find me in the first floor flat. Stahlhauben has the Cannon Street offices under observation, and Brandon is repeating the process at Frimley. Either of them may strike at any moment, except that I do not think Stahlhauben will move for a day or two. If by any chance you come across Ling, try and find out if the Chinese are still at Grosvenor Square. I don't suppose he'll tell you, but there is no harm in trying. I shall expect you at eight-thirty.—Yours, the Onlooker."

So things were moving at last! I wondered as I mounted the stairs what the last acts of the drama would be like and who would play the leading parts.

At five minutes past three five men arrived at the offices and asked for Brandon, who admitted them into his room and locked the door behind them. They were an extraordinary-looking lot. Two of them had the appearance of Turks, one was obviously German, another a Frenchman, and the last an extraordinary, overdressed young Englishman, whose scented handkerchief made me want to kick him. 1 listened at Brandon's keyhole, but could hear nothing except the monotone of Brandon's voice, talking continuously, with an occasional exclamation from one of the others. The meeting continued until a quarter past four, when it broke up, and the members departed one by one. Half an hour later Brandon came out. He looked in good spirit?, and his eyes twinkled vivaciously.

"I shall be here at ten o'clock in the morning, Mr. Relph," he said, "and we shall close the offices for good to-morrow afternoon. Don't be late." He hurried off.

Directly the door had shut behind him I telephoned Jevons at the Yard, and made the appointment for him to mee: me at Conway's flat at eight, ringing otf before he could ask for explanation'-, which I preferred the Onlooker to mako himself. Then, without further acio, 1 proceeded to smash the lock on the door of Brandon's office. I searched the room thoroughly, but without result. Thenwas no sign of anything which could au sociate Brandon personally with any if the previous events. I stood by his desK. disappointed, and after a moment took up two or three of the account books which lay on his table. 1 ran through the leaves casually, and as my fingets turned the pages of the last book my heart gave a leap. Tasted at the back of the book, which was a "bought and sold" ledger, was a plan of Frimley Abbey!

Jevons arrived at the flat at eight o'clock punctually. It was obvious that he was bursting with curiosity, although he endeavoured to hide his eagerness under an air of unconcern.

"You know this is all very irregular, Mr. Relph," he said, "and I hope it •will turn out all right. After all it won't be very nice for you if anything goes wrong, and you're placed in the position of having withheld information."

"I'm afraid I don't see that, Inspector," I replied. "After all, I'm not a policeman, and if I like to do a little investigation on my own. I don't see what there is to stop me. Besides which I understand you had theories of your own. Haven't you discovered anything at all?"

"It looks to me as If there isn't anyfanad out* 0 ,

"'After all, you've got to have something to start from, and I've never known a case with less to go on than this one. From the start there's been nothing at all." '"If that is so. how did Jaffray find out as much as he did in one day?" I asked "After all, when he met me at Salvatori's shop on the night of the murder he must have had some sort of idea as to what he was up against to speak as he did." The Inspector shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I don't like it," he said. "But it's no good talking about it. We'd better be getting along." During our walk round to Park Lane the Inspector maintained a dignified silence. Eventually we arrived at tiie house, and were shown up to the first floor and into a room at the end of a passage. It was essentially a man's room and the big leather arm chairs drawn up in front of the fire looked inviting. The Onlooker rose from the depths of one of them as we entered. He invited us to sit down, and we did so. Jevons looking very stiff and suspicious. "Well, gentlemen," said the Onlooker "I suppose it's up to me to satisfy your curiosity as far as I can. And, as regards yourself, Inspector, I may as well make my apology straight away . . ." "Apology," said Jevons. "What for?" "For leading you up the garden generally," said the Onlooker, grinning. "1 guess some of us have been —what we call in America —"making a monkey of you,' Inspector. However, that's all over. I've got an idea you may have heard of m", some time or other, Jevons," he continued. "They used to call me Paris John ..." Jevons sat bolt upright in his chair ; bis eyes almost starting out of his head. "My God!" The exclamation was al- - forced from his lips. . . . "Paris John!" The Onlooker threw over to him a small black leather case. Jevons examined i". carefullv and handed it back.

•'That's good enough for me, sir," he said. "I'm proud to moot you. I mipht have known that there was something behind all this. I suppose you've beer in this from the start."

''That's right, Inspector," said the Onlooker. "You see, JafTray and myself knew, more or less, what we were up against. It was an old business, and alter his exit I was rather keen 011 somebody getting on with the job in an official capacity. Somebody who wasn't going to get anywhere at all just because there wasn't any way of getting started. Mind yoUj I won't say that you didn't get fairly warm once or twice. When you went after Ling, for instance. The man you got at Hop Fi's, in Limehouse, was Ling all right, but Mr. Kelph refused to identify him on my orders. Ling had nothing to do with the Salvatori and Zweitt murders, except that he did his best to stop them coming ofl'. Now, I'll start from the beginning and tell you how this business originally started. My name, as you know, Inspector, is Steel, Jerome T. Steel, commonly called l'aris John. Fifteen years ago I was chief of the Narcotic Squad, at New York Heauquarters, and, at the end of 1912, I was faced with one of the most extraordinary propositions that I have ever come up against —a gang of dope dealers who had beaten us to a frazzle for the very simple reason that we could never find out where they got the stuff from. The business was obviously international, and the police of other countries found themselves up against the same brick wall. Eventually it was arranged that certain officers selected from the different national detective forces should work together. I was selected to run this international bureau, and took up my headquarters in Paris. Jaffray was the officer selected by Scotland Yard to represent British interests. -After some time we erot talis on two men—an Englishman and a German. They were operating from Milan and called themselves Moreatte and Co., Wine and Spirit Exporters. They were Brandon, who called himself Varley and a Prussian named Yon Eison—the man known as- 'Stahlhauben.' " (To be continued daily.)