The FOG MEN

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 168, 18 July 1932, Page 15

The FOG MEN

=B y J. M. WALSH==^

CHPTER XXV. Revelation. Quailc came to the Yard next morning in a thoughtful mood. Hie overnight interview with the Sanfields had turned out in the end singularly barren of result. He had gathered certain impressions, not eo much from what they had said as from the questions they had avoided answering directly, but whatever deductions he had drawn were not so far bolstered up by any proof worth having. At the very moment when he fancied ho had the girl cornered, and ehe had dissolved in a storm of tears, she had abruptly taken a tight hold on herself, countered his questions with evasions rather than denials. Her swift "volteface" had taken his breath away, and before he could recover, the tables had been turned on him. True, she gave him an explanation of sorts that was supported, from point to point, by her father. It sounded plausible, yet Quaile, perhaps because he was hag-ridden by that other nebulous idea of his, did not quite pifve it credence. In line she told him that his first guess was right, and that Lanty's acquaintance with the family meant no more than that he and her brother had been fellow-graduates of more than ono prison up .and down the country. She skated skilfully over the suggestion that Lanty might havo used his knowledge as a means to blackmail; the mere idea left her breathless and indignant. Hud he been a lesser man, Quaile might have felt convinced by her very vehemence. It was characteristic of him when he had a hard nut to crack that he should keep the matter to himself, and so it was that when he came to speak to Slade he skirted delicately about the affair, and it was on Lanty and hie habits he dwelt. Indeed he s:iid nothing about his night visit to the Sanfields. Slade would probably learn of that for himself in due course, and Quaile could only hope, with a wry twist to his mouth when he thought of it, that the knowledge would not come in a singularlv unpleasant form. "More and more," he remarked, "I'm becoming convinced that Lanty is of value to the Fog-Men. His cash is coining from them, that much seems certain, and I have an idea why. I've felt convinced nil along that there's a chemist in the outfit, and I'm beginning to think now that friend Lanty might just about fill the bill. He's a forger by profession, which pro-siippoeps some chemical knowledge, and I don't think we can go far wrong if we drag him in." "On what charge?" said Slade bluntly, "no beat you before and the chances are (hat hell beat you again." "Probably," Quaile agreed. "At the same time, it's worth trying. We may cntch him out. Would you care to go after him? You can take Bonnet with you." "Do we want a warrant?" "You're not arresting him," Quailo pointed out. "You're bringing him in for interrogation." Ten minutes lattffl , Slade and Bonnet were- tooling out in the police car to Lanty's lodging. Before entering they picked up the man who was watching the house and got his report. Lanty was in, he said, at least he had gone home the previous night about ten, and the- various reliefs had passed on word that the man had not left the place in the interval. "Probably spending the day in bed," Slade hazarded. It "was by no means an infrequent pastime of Lanty's. The woman who answered the door — the landlady she turned out to be— stared at the pair, and seemed inclined to hedge until she learned their identity. Then she gave them rather more information than they required. Yes. Lanty was home; he had not yet got up, was still in bed. She was proceeding to enlarge on the fact that Lanty usually remained in bed till a late hour when ho didn't get up early. Despite the eminently logical trend of her remarks, Slade cut her short by asking the way to Lanty's room. "You're not going to nrrest him, are you?" she queried, and Slade chuckled. "No, we're not," he said. "Merely bringing him news of p legacy." "Oo," she said, then her face fell as she saw the other's smiles. However, she led the way upstairs, and knocked on the door of Lanty's room. There was no answer. She knocked again, with the same result. "He's sleeping pretty soundly," Bennet remarked in a whisper to Slade. Slade nodded, but rather to his surprise the woman seemed alarmed. "I think there's something wrong," she said in a low tone. "lie gen'lly answers my knock right away." Slade tried the door. It was locked. "Locked on the inside, of course," he said, at a venture. "Have you another key?" The woman had one downstairs and she hurried off to get it. Slade dropped to his knees and peered through the keyhole, then straightened up with a queer expression on his face. "No key in the lock, at any rate," ho remarked. "If Lanty's inside, he's taken the key to bed with him." The landlady seemed to be taking an interminable time, but at last, just when Slade was beginning to turn over in his mind the propriety of going after her, she came dragging back up the steps with the key in her hands. "Here it is," she said, rather breathlessly. Slade paid no notice to her explanations, but unlocked the door and flung it open, then stared wonderingly round. As far as Lanty was concerned the room was empty. In addition, either the bed had not been slept in or else Lanty had gone to the trouble of making it before he had taken his departure. Rather astonishingly, a question elicited from the woman the fact that Lanty not uncommonly made his own bed, for some queer reason of his own. Slade studied her face. It was quite evident that she was as much at a loss as they to account for her lodger's absence. "Well, I never," she said. "He s gorn. "That's evident," Slade said. "But how could he have got away?" "Walked out the front door or the back door, whilo I was busy working," the woman suggested. Slado shook his head. He did not think that likely. Still. . . "Bennet," he whispered, "slip round to the back door and get hold of the man who's on duty in the alley way. Lanty's not likely to have gone out that way, but see if he can tell you anything that might help to throw light on the puzzle." With a quick nod Bennet slid away, leaving Slside with the woman.

"Is this the only room Lanty has?" he asked. "That's his room," she answered, and for the moment Slado fancied she was evading the question. Then as she saw the doubt expressed in his face she added quickly: "Ho lias the use of a sort of bathroom of mine. I don't know what he does there." "Where is this bathroom?" Slade asked. "I don't think we can get in," she said doubtfully. "Ho always keeps it locked and carries the key with him." "Well get in somehow," Slade assured her. Tho woman had not been quite correct in describing it as a bathroom. That it might have been once, but now it looked something like a china shop in which a bull had been let loose. Broken, glass and chinaware had been stacked untidily in tho corners, and the room itself seemed full of a combination of queer odours. Actually the place bore all evidence of having been used as a. sort of experimental laboratory. Some of the broken fragments of glass were still recognisable as the remains of retorts and test tubes, and as if to clinch the evidence a narrow shelf over the sink in one corner of the room still carried an array of empty and labelless bottles and jars. The suggestion was that they had held chemicals of one sort or another. Quaile's guess, apparently, had not been so very far wrong after all. Lanty seemingly was the chemist of the outfit, and here was the modest laboratory in which he conducted his experiments and distilled his preparations. In all probability it was from here that the artificial smoke which had given the FogMen their name had originally emanated. Those odours, redolent of a chemist's shop or an operating theatre, or perhaps both, combined, seemed strongest just in the vicinity of the eink, and that and the sight of the empty bottles amply advertised what had occurred. Lanty at the last had emptied all liis chemicals down the sink. The conclueion seemed to be that whatever work he had been doing was at last completed, and that he had no further need of his materials. Rather than that the residue should fall into the wrong hands, ho had destroyed them. Steps sounding along the passage aclvertieed Bennet's return. He brought with him the man who had been watching the alleyway that covered the back entrance to the house. Ilia report at first seemed likely to throw little light on the mystery. Xo one answering in the least to Lanty's description had passed out that morning, and the man from whom ho had taken over at eight o'clock had reported no paseers-by at all. The only person who had gone out that mornin,,' was a dragglc-heeled woman of middle age, who carried over her arm a cheap shiny shopping bag. The detective had taken it for. granted that sho was going marketing. She had come from this house, of that ho was quite sure. The landlady up to this time had been hovering about in the shadows behind the little group, but now Slade beckoned her forward. . "It? this the woman you saw?" he asked the detective, and the man nodded. "It looks like her," ho said. "How did she come back ? In the front way 1" "Nobody but ourselves has come in the front way this morning," Slade declared. He turned to the landlady. "What time did you do your marketing this morning?" lie asked. Sho eyed him in surprise. "Why, I haven't been out yet," she declared. "I would have been going out just now if you gentlemen hadn't come along." Slade nodded. He had little or no doubt of the truth of what sho was saying. She could not very well have returned without being seen, so it followed, that the woman who had gone out roundabout an hour previously must be still out. In the light of what had happened there was only one explanation, it was a disguised Lanty himself who had passed down the alleyway. CHAPTF.Tt XXVI. Shocks for Slade. At first glance it seemed as though Lanty had made a complete getaway, but a eecond reflection showed Slado that there was still considerable hope of finding him. His disguise, no doubt, would not pass muster for long. h\ all probability it was a makeshift alfair, meant merely to get him past the curious eyes of the detectives. From which it followed that he must change back into his own clothes at the earliest opportunity. What puzzled Slade most in the long run wae why Lanty should have chosen this exact moment to make his spectacular departure. He could not have known he was going to be interrogated; even had he suspected anything of the kind, ho knew enough of Scotland Yard procedure to realise he was in little or no danger. The mere fact that he had managed to get out of the house without his departure being suspected probably satisfied his requirements. Quailo agreed with these conclusions when Slade returned and put the case before him. He went further, and suggested that Lanty was more than likely to be found in some of his old haunts about the West End. Point was added to this presently when the thin mist that had been hanging about all morning began to thicken and showed a tendency to turn into a fog. It looked the sort of evening that might well present another opportunity to the Fog-Men. Mindful of what had happened during the last thick fog, the reserves were held in readinefs, all stations warned, and etepe taken to counter any possible move. Along about half-past three that afternoon a 'phone message came from the Southern and Northern —with whom Quaile had already made some tentative arrangement —to the effect that a cheque on Lanty's account had juet been cashed. An hour or so later, when the fog had started work in good earnest and lights were glowing everywhere, word came through that someone resembling Lanty had been seen in a taxi. The policeman concerned had got just the merest glimpse of his man as the taxi ambled past, and, before he could stop it, it had turned a corner and disappeared in tho mist. He had secured the number, however. Slade had little or no difficulty in locating tho driver of the taxi —to Scotland Yard this was an easy task —and he learnt that the man had been decanted at a point along the Bayswater Road. It was not altogether something in the nature of a forlorn hope that scut Slade prospecting in this direction. It

struck him that there was a chance of killing two birds with one stone, particularly as the Sanfields lived in that neighbourhood. He could learn nothing of any moment from the patrols along the road, and, satisfied he had done what was required of him, he turned off with the intention of calling on Anne. Marsden, who answered the door, informed him, however, that both Lady Anne and Lord Sanfield were out, and that it was doubtful what time they would return. No, they had not the moment he was minded to demur, but gono out together. In the circumstances Slade decided it was not worth while waiting about on the off-chance; it struck him, too, that Marsden did not extend any such invitation. The fog was setting in with a vengeance now. He filled liis pipe, and stopped to light it. At that instant he saw two figures looming through the fog—it must be remembered that he had turned round to shelter the match as he lit the pipe, and so was looking back tho way he had come —and he could not be certain whether they had come from Lord Saniield's house or the one next to it. The tiling certain was that they had come from one or the other of the two houses. He identified them as a man and a woman, and there was something about tho latter curiously reminiscent of Anne. The superficial resemblance was so strong that he paused instead of continuing on his way. Tho figures halted, as though they had come to the parting of the ways, then abruptly the man caught the woman to him, and, despite her struggles, kissed her once and again. At that Slade broke into a run. The sound of his footsteps caught the fellow's ear. Ho turned his face swiftly, and despite the fog Slado felt prepared to swear that he was Lanty, the man he had been trailing all day. Lanty, if such he was, did not wait on the order of liis going, but whirled round on his heel and plunged into the blanket of fog. Slade made no attempt to follow him. He turned his attention to the girl. Sho peered at him as he came forward, and the instant he was close enough to bo recognisable she started back. "You!" she said with a sort of dead noto in her voice. Half a dozen thoughts whirled through Slade's mind with lightning rapidity. Ho had been told sho was out, yet she must have just cotno from her own place, for there was nowhere else from which sho could have come. Why then had Marsden lied to him, and what was sho doing with Lanty? "Anne," he said quickly, catching her by the arm, "that . . . that was Lanty, wasn't it?" "Yes-cs," sho admitted. "Anne," ho said urgently, "tell me what you were doing with him?" "I ... I .... I just met him." "I saw you come out of your house." Ho faced her deliberately. "I saw him try to kiss you and saw you struggle. Why didn't you call for help?" "I didn't want a scene. I didn't want a crowd, and the police, and . . . the scandal." "But," ho said, puzzled, "the man's a scamp, and he's wanted by the police." Sho faced him with agony in her eyes, and for tho first time a wild terror gripped Slade by the heart. "Frank . . . Frank," she said brokenly. "It's got to be faced sooner or later. You've got to bo told what I've never had the courage to tell you before. I don't know what you'll think of mo, but at any rate don't condemn me without a hearing. He ... Lanty . . . may bo all you say, but"—her voice faltered, sank to so low a note that he had to strain his cars to catch her words— "but . . . but he's my husband." (To be continued daily.)