The FOG MEN

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 160, 8 July 1932, Page 12

The FOG MEN

By J. M. WALSH==iI

SYNOPSIS OF PREYIO'US CHAPTERS. X.ANTY, an ex-conyiet on license Is taken to the police station on a charge of stealins a handbag. JIKNB SANFIELD, daughter of Lord Sanlield, who has had her bag snatched, fails to identify Lanty as the thief, although ,t}UAILE thinks she knows the man. Anne tells her father, antf during the conversation he suggests she marries J&SHLIN, a city financier. Anne refuses to consider the suggestion. Meanwhile the Men were working the West End of .London with considerable success. Every policeman was given orders that Lanty was to bo brought to Scotland Yard, but the call was without success. Lanty, however, had met Anne in the street, and was demanding money from her. Anne manages to elude him, and in running away is knocked down by a car driven by JPKANK SLADE, a C.I.D. man. Slade drives Anne home, and on reaching the house they are alarmed to see smoke coming from Lord Sanfleld's study window. Sladc enters the ammonia-filled room, and finds Lord Sanfield lying unconscious at the foot of his safe, which had been robbed. Ashlin sends a note to Lord Sanfield, expressing a wish to see liim at once, but Anne goes instead. Ashlin tells her that her father owes him money, and that in his safe he has documentary proof. He also promises that if she marries him, he will wipe out her father's debts. Anne refuses. Inspector Quaile interviews JIALLAH, a man who is in the habit of supplying Scotland Yard with informalion. Mallnh tolls Quaile that the leader of the Fog Men is a girl, and that Ashlin's office is to be raided that night. Slade nnd Quaile watch the ofilce, and on seeing a light appear, they decided to enter. Slade enters the office, and is surprised to see a girl bending at the safe. She squirts ammonia into his face and escapes, but not before Slade has torn her scarf from her neck. Slade interviews Anne the next day, and forces her to admit that it was she who robbed Ashlin's safe and took the papers relating to her father's debts. Slade then goes to see Mullah. On arriving at the house he Bees eomebody watching him from a window. CHAPTER XV. A Criminologist at Home, Slade looked at him quickly, and his eyes narrowed. "That's just exactly what I've come about," he said evenly. "But, pardon me for saying so, you seem to know all about it already." Mallajb .shook his head, and his eyes sparkled good-humouredly. "It wouldn't be altogether remarkable £f I did," he retorted, "but as a. matter of fact I don't. I know the bare outlines, that's all. About the sum and substance of my knowledge is that it ■wasn't a Fog-Man activity, and that you didn't make any capture." • "All the same, it's rather surprising b> me that you know that it wasn't one of the Fog-Men's exploits," Slade told him. "F Mallah chuckled. "Credit that to my Bnes of communication again," he said, this difference, that on this ocea.Sxon they seem to have brought me the truth. No, Mr. Slade, I'm sorry if for one© I passed unreliable information on to Inspector Quaile, but you can see for yourself that I'm not entirely to blame I've several private 'noses' of my awn, and "usually they're dependable, but k for once slipped." Hβ eudderly;

became serious. "I'm beginning to wonder if it is that the Fog-Men suspect and deliberately laid this false trail." Slade thought so too, though he had tho wit not to say so. But the implication opened, up even graver possibilities than Mallah was aware of. It meant that not only had the Fog-Men discovered what Mallah was pleased to call his lines of communication, but that they had established a point of contact with Anne Sanfield herself. His own feeling was, of course, that the man from whom she had obtained the safe-breaking tools was an agent, wittingly or otherwise, of the Fog-Men. Mallah naturally enough took his thoughtful silence to be the result of concern for hie safety, and he proceeded to enlarge on the matter. "I don't pretend to be devoid of fear," he said, "and on the other hand I can't face unpleasant possibilities with equanimity. I've taken up this study merely as a hobby, and so far it has not brought me any sleepless moments. However, I have a daughter to think of —it was she who let you in—and naturally I must consider what effect my actions may have on her." "Of course you could clear the air and si? plify the situation right way by telling us exactly where your information comes from, and leave it to us to do the rest," Slade suggested. Mallah laughed softly, but it was a laugh without humour. "I could do that, certainly," he conceded, "though I'm afraid would precipitate the very crisis I'm most anxious to avoid. There's another aspect, too, that you might not have considered. These men who bring me information do so in all good faith. I started first simply to enlarge my knowledge of the under-world, and later, through my friendship with Inspector Quaile, I got into the habit of slipping him a hint now and again. I always made the provision, however, to which I must admit he agreed only reluctantly, that the source of my information should remain mj own secret." Slade nodded. If Quaile and his superiors had come to this arrangement with the little man it was not for him to cavil at it. At any rate they must consider his help valuable when they were willing to accept it under such conditions. "Of course," Slade insinuated, "you'll do your best to make sure in future that anything you pass on to us is reliable ?" The little man's answer was- lost in a vast rumble of sound that momentarily made Slade think of a train thundering through the tube. But there were no tubes in the district, and for the moment he was at a loss to account for it. Mallah caught the look of bewilderment on his face, and he laughed softly. " That is only the train passing," he said, "We abut right on to the L.M.S. main line here." "I knew that," Slade told him, "but I'd hardly expect a passing train to make such a row, not out in the open at any rate. It sounded more like the thunder of a train in a confined space." Mallah ■ looked at him oddly, he thought, with something challenging in

his expression. The challenge itself came in the- next breath. "I hope," said the little man, "that you have some theory to account for it. What you've said is quite correct. A train in the open shouldn't make so much row, but the fact remains that it does, and that you've heard it for yourself. When one of the fast expresses goes by the noise is simply oar-splitting. The only solution is that this particular neighbourhood possesses singular acoustic properties that might ■well repay investigation. At present, however, I get more enjoyment out of tho study of environment of another sort" "In relation to crime?" Sladc hazarded, and the other agreed. "Have you read my book on the subject?" ho asked. "You haven't? vVhat a pity. I must give you a copy. lam sure you will find it interesting, if not useful." Ho crossed the room to the bookcase Sladc had noticed previously. Evidently ,tho glass doors enclosing it were always kept locked, for Mallah drew a key from his pocket, and inserted it in the lock. Most of the books Slade, staring over his shoulder, could see were works on criminology; they ranged from Lombroso and Mantegazza to a selection of notable trials, and all bore the appearance of frequent, almost excessive handling. On one shelf in splendid isolation stood half a dozen small books and it was one of these Mallah selected for Sladc. "My own little contributions to the literature of crime," he said with a gesture. Ho sat down at tho table, and autographed the fly-leaf of his "Environment in Relation to Crime," and handed tho book to Slade before the ink was dry. As Slade glanced at the title-page a phrase in italics caught his eye. "A man should not sleep on silk until he has walked on sand," he rend. Its source was given as an Arab proverb, and as the implication came to him he smiled. "What, may I ask, have you found amusing already?" Mallah queried, with a slightly hurt note in his voice. "It was merely the proverb here," Slade told him. "The paraphrase of it, that a man shouldn't write about things ho hasn't experienced, occurred to me. I was smiling at the thought that if this idea was carried out to its logical conclusion a man would have to be • a criminal before he could write about crime." "Or a criminal investigator," Mullah pointed. "One conclusion is just as logical as the other. But I have yet to find the entirely new crime, or even a new way of committing an old one." "How about the Fog Men and that little invention of theirs from which they take their name?" Sladc suggested. "I have an idea that even that isn't new," Mallah said slowly. "In. fact, I wouldn't mind wagering that it's quite a few years older than our present police system. "And now you can tell Inspector Quaile that I'm sorry, to use his own delightful expression, that I sold him a pup in this instance, but that the nnimal was sold to me in the first place." He stood with what was so patently a gesture of dismissal that Sladc could find no excuse for lingering. "By the way," said Slade, as they made for Hie door, "is this house all yours ?"•

''My property, you mean," said Mallah. "Of course it is." Slade smiled. "I'm afraid I phrased that rather clumsily," ho said apologetically. "What I rcully meant was, are you and your daughter tho sole occupants?" "Of course. Why do you ask that?" "Just as I reached here," Slade explained, "I pot tho impression that I •was being watched/' "I'm not surprised at that," Mallah laughed. "But I fancy that as far as epying goes, the boot was on the other foot. To bo perfectly candid, when you arrived there was another visitor waiting for me, a man who sometimes brings mo little, items of interest. Presumably ho saw and recognised you, and was afr;\l you would do tho namo to him. Ho may even havo imagined that I had betrayed him to his natural enemies, the police." "Oh, that's it then," said Slade, relieved to find that tho explanation was after all so eimplc a one. "lie needn't have worried." A sudden thought struck- Slade. "Hemust havo gone out the back entrance," ho said. "There is a bade entrance, I'm presuming. Yon see, I had my eyes on tho front gate- all the time, expecting to see you every minute, but no one ciime in or out while I was watching." Mallah looked a triflo uncomfortable. "To bo quite accurate there isn't any back entrance in the accepted fccnee of the term," ho said uneasily. "We abut right on the railway line. But sometimes it is convenient to croes without having to go round, and though one takes a risk it can be done. Our friend went that way, and quite often I come in there, too." Slado nodded. "It doesn't really matter to me, of course," he said, "but, you see, my curiosity was aroused, and I'm human enough to like it satisfied where, possible." Mallah watched him from the door until lie started the car. Opposite Slade on tho facia board of the car was a email metal vase, meant, if the driver was a lover of them, to hold flowers. Slade, however, used it for other purposes. As the ear bowled along something unusual about tho appearance of tho vaso caught his eye. A fragment of paper, an old envelope or something of tho sort was showing its head. He pulled it out with one hand while ho managed the steering with the other. Tho envelope was a now, epotlcss one, and it was addressed in a hand he did not recognise to "— Slade Esq." Beneath these words were some figures that he made out to be 12.45. Since one corner had the word "Urgent" scribbled across it, he stopped tho car and elit the envelope. Inside was a single sheet of notcpaper and two or three lines of writing in the same hand that had addressed the envelope. "Immediately you receive this," the letter ran, "stop the enr, get out and walk away at least fifty yards. Do not return to tho car until fifteen minutee havo elapsed from tho time indicated on tho envelope." Then the figures were meant to be 12.45, fifteen minutes to one. He looked at his watch idly. It was between three and four minutes to the hour now. Quite probably it wae some sort of hoax, he decided, but seeing he had only a. few minutes to wait and that the envelope had been marked "Urgent," lue saw no valid reason for ignoring the instruction of his unknown wrresprndent.

Fortunately—for hit> sonec of the ridiculous was strong ami lio did not fancy being , the butt of idle curiosity— lio was in a more or Jess open district thnt had presumably just been opened up bv tho speculative builder. He got out of the cur, leaving the engine running, us lie did not think it worth while shutting off, and slowly strolled what ho judged To be tho proscribed distance. lio stopped there, and swept a glance about him. There did not seem to be anyone in sight. Tho nearest house, a matter of eome few hundred yards away, might have been untenanted for all the sign of life ft showed. He looked at his watch again. It wae practically one o'clock, wanted at most but a few seconds to tho hour. Then abruptly it happened. There camo the roar of an explosion, and where his car had been but an instant before, was now a sheet of flame that leaped up many feet into the air. Slade passed an unsteady hand across his damp forehead, and the thought camo to him that whoever had written that noto had by that act Raved his Jife. (To be continued daily.)