SIX WERE TO DIE

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 198, 22 August 1932, Page 15

SIX WERE TO DIE

by ; Teter Qalzj

CHAPTER 11. Jubal Straust Explains the Situation. Jubal Straust leaned forward in his chair and handed/ a pink slip of paper to Doctor Britling. "Does that interest you?" he asked, watching Daniel's face shrewdly. Daniel glanced at it casually. It was a cheque for five hundred pounds. He raised his eyebrows slightly, and handed it back. "No," he said calmly "I'm afraid it doesn't." Jubal stared. People who displayed such calm .indifference to money were rare in his experience. "You say that you have a case for mc," continued Daniel blandly. "My reply is that I am not a detective. Your personal cheque for ten times as much would not buy my services. But an anonymous person has threatened me with death if I aid you. I don't like to be threatened. I regard it as a challenge. Therefore, Mr. Straust, although [ am completely indifferent to your money, I am prepared to listen to whatever you have to say."

He sat back in his chair with his finger-tips pressed together, and waited for his visitor to explain his errand.

Jubal brought out a large silk handkerchief, and mopped his brow with it.

"The cunning devil!" he muttered. "How the dickens did he know I was coming to eonsult you? Damn him, he's in touch with every move we make!" He shot a curious glance at Doctor Britling. "And "in spite of his threat, you're prepared to listen to me. ? " "Not in spite of it," corrected Daniel. "Because of it."

That was the literal truth. Since he had received the warning letter and the casket with its deadly contents, Daniel had spent some time in investigating the personal history of Jubal Slraust. He had decided that any harm which came to that prominent young financier would be no less than his just deserts. Nothing would have persuaded him to consider any offer that Jubal Straust might be prepared to make, had it not been for that threatening letter. Daniel did not intend to be intimidated.

Jubal Straust was the cleverest young man in London —in the opinion of Jubal Straust. In the opinion of those who had transacted business with him, he was one of the crookedest members of the London Stock Exchange. And even if his own estimate of his cleverness is not accepted, it must be admitted that he was wily enough to keep on the right side of the law.

Pretty women found him a fool. For tho most trivial of favours—a kiss in the dark; the brief pressure of a slim, warm hand; the veiled promise of delights to come—ho was prepared to pay with diamonds and pearls. Women who valued their honour lightly sold it at top price to Jubal Straust. He was, as Gideon Levison once remarked, the answer to a chorus girl's prayer.

Putty in the hands of pretty women, he was like stone to the rest of the world. In his luxurious offices in Throgmorton Street he was like a large, sauve spider, spinning endless webs to trap the unwary; like a spider he devoured his financial victims without mercy. At the age of thirty-five he had accumulated over half a million pounds, and the contempt with which he was regarded even by his fellow financiers testified to the means whereby he had acquired it.

His forehead seemed enormously high, largely because he was bald from the brow to the crown of his head; a large, hooked nose divided his plump face sharply; his thick lips were red and sensual, and, when he was with women or thinking of them, his lower lip hung open and his mouth was unpleasantly moist. He was tall and heavily built, but soft; layers of fat instead of muscle gave him an impressive girth. The curling brown hair on his temples was shot with silver threads.

His clothes were made in Savile Row; his shoes cost five guineas a pair; his cigarettes were Turkish, at a fabulous sum a hundred. Apart from the pursuit of women and the enjoyment of food his only recreation was the amassing of money, which was his hobby and religion, as well as his profession.

Jubal hitched up his exquisitely-cut silver-grey trousers, and producing an enamelled cigarette case, selected and lit a cigarette without the formality of asking permission. Doctor Britling observed that the hand which held the platinum cigarette lighter was trembling slightly. There were other indications of the visitor's agitation; a certain uneasiness in his dark eyes; the slight dampness of his forehead on a particularly cool afternoon; the twitching of a nerve beneath one of his eyes. It was apparent that for all his self-possession Mr. Jubal Straust was in a blue funk about something.

"You're supposed to be one of the cleverest criminologists in theh country, doctor," he aaid. "That's why I'm here. I have need of such a man."

From his cigarette case he produced a folded slip of paper. Spreading it fiat he handed it to Daniel.

"What do you think of that?" he asked. Doctor Britling- examined it with interest; on the paper was drawn two crosses, one above the other, and a crude representation of a skull and crossbones. "As a sample of art," he replied, "atrocious. As an attempt at intimidation, childish." Jubal blew out a cloud of steel-blue smoke, watching Daniel through halfshut eyes. "What would you say if I told you that five of the shrewdest financiers in the country were thoroughly alarmed upon receiving a paper like that?" . "I should say that financiers are easily frightened," responded Daniel thoughtfully. "Of that they had an intimate knowledge of the man who sent the papers." i Jubal nodded.

"It is apparent, doctor, that yon know something about human nature." He glanced at his watch. "Three o'clock," he remarked.

From a waistcoat pocket he produced a glass vial of white tablets, and put one of them in his mouth. "I am a martyr to indigestion," he explained, replacing the vial. "I have to take one of these little tablets every hour." Daniel thought, but did not say, that all the medical preparations in the world would not cure the linancier's jangled digestive organs as long as he continued to stuff himself with rich food several times a day. "Six of us received these papers," said Jubal slowly. "My father, Israel Straust, of the Fortunatus Investment Trust .Company; Gideon Levison, of Levison

and Stern, the bankers; Mark Annerley, the theatrical promoter, and his wife; Hubert Quail, the diamond merchant; and myself. I am not authorised to go into details with you now, but we cherish no illusions regarding the meaning of these crude drawings. They are a definite threat of murder. I, doctor, am to be the first to die!" There was a faint tremour in his oily voice which betrayed the emotional stress under which he was labouring. "We received these warnings a week ago, and not one of us doubted that they were intended seriously. A clever and unscrupulous man, Dr. Britling, intends to kill each one of us. We gathered immediately at my father's country house near Leighton Buzzard to decide what steps to take. We are all living there now, and the place is guarded like a fortress. But that is not enough. The man who- intends to kill, us is sufficiently clever to penetrate any system of defence. We must fight him not with brawn, but with brains. We are important men, Dr. Britling. We believe in buying the best brains avail ible for whatever purpose we may require them. My father has heard of you, and insisted that your services should be secured. We are prepared to pay you whatever you ask if you will help us; to frustrate the villain who has threatened us." Again he wiped his forehead with a large expanse of silk handkerchief. "Last night I received a further message," he said shakily. "It was lying on my bed. It said simply: 'You die at 5 o'clock to-morrow evening.'" His composure deserted him, and he stared wide-eyed at Dr.. Britling, his face contorted with a sudden spasm of fear. "To die, at 5 o'clock this evening!" he repeated hoarsely. "Two hours from now! It is terrible that such things can be possible in a civilised country!" Daniel watched the financier keenly through half-closed eye*. His finger-tips were still pressed together, like the fingers of a praying child. His face was as expressionless as a mask. "You believe, then, that this —this melodramatic villain will make good his threat?" Jubal shook his head, but fear lurked in his eyes. "No, I don't," he said tonelessly. "If I did I should go mad. I can't believe it is' possible. I am armed, and at 5 o'clock I shall be in my car, with an armed bodyguard in the rear seat, returning to my father's house. How can I be killed in such circumstances? And yet, the uncertainty is fraying my nerves. He will try—l have no doubt of thcit—and if it is possible to succeed he is clever enough to do it." He leaned forward with a, strained expression on his face. His fingers were restlessly tying themselves in knots. "I have tried to think how it can be done," he muttered, his voice sinking to a hoarse whisper. "That is why I delayed coming here until this afternoon; so that by 5 o'clock I shall be on the return journey. My car is fast—there are few cars that could hope to overtake it on the road. It would be impossible for anyone standing by the roadside to aim an effective shot at me. Every .detail of the mechanism has been, thoroughly examined and overhauled, so a sudden failure of the brakes or steering gear is out of the question. How is it possible to kill me in such circumstances ?" "A time bomb?" suggested Daniel. "I thought of that. It is out of the question. Every inch of the car has been carefully examined." Daniel rose and paced the room with short, jerky strides. "Why come to me?" he demanded suddenly. "Why not go to Scotland Yard?" "Because we have no faith in the ability of Scotland Yard to save us," replied Jubal simply. "We must rely upon our brains —and on yours." "Who is the "man who has threatened

you?" "I'm sorry, but I've told you all I can for the present," said Jubal. "If you will return with me to my father's house you will learn all that there is to know, but I can't tell you anything else without the agreement of my associates." Daniel looked thoughtful. "If I go, it must be clearly understood thai; I am at liberty to withdraw later, if I choose to do so," he stipulated. "I agree," responded Jubal eagerly. "Will you come?" Daniel hesitated for a moment, but he had already half formed his decision. "I will come," he agreed at last. "Good," exclaimed Jubal. There were some things to be arranged

before Doctor Britling could accompany the financier. It might be some days before lie would return, so it was necessary for him to telephone the young doctor who'attended to hie duties while lie was out of town and arrange for his services in case of :iiecessity. Daniel made a clean breast of the whole story £o his sister (he had learned from experience that it was not wise to attempt to deceive her) and listened patiently to her disapproving comments and dark forebodings, Eunice was of the opinion that the death of five financiers would do the world no harm—she had once lost £300 in a bogus company—and that her brother would certainly get into trouble once ho was out of her sight. It was four o'clock before Daniel seated himself beside Jubal Straust in the front seat of the financier's eleek Hispano-Suiza, and the car moved off up Orchard Street. There was a large man in the rear seat of the car who bore the unmistakable stamp of an ex-prize-fighter, and who kept one .hand in a jacket pocket which bulged ominously. Within an hour they were less than five miles from Leighton Buzzard. Jubal' glanced at his watch and turned a triumphant smile towards, the dapper little police surgeon. "Five o'clock," he declared, "And I am still alive!" His eyes'travelled'from one side of the road to the other, then straight ahead; looking for the least threat of danger. The road was deserted as far as the eye could see. It appeared that Jubal Straust had escaped the fate which had menaced him. Letting the speed of the car drop to a mere forty miles an hour, Jubal put one hand' in his waistcoat pocket and produced the vial of indigestion tablets. He shook one of them out on his palm and conveyed it to his mouth. As he did so, his face was twisted with a spasm of pain, and the' vial dropped from his fingers, scattering the tablets over the floor of the car. His body writhed in awful agony. With a groan he twisted sideways on the seat, the steering wheel jerked out of his unresisting fingers, and the car swerved across the road and skidded into a telegraph pole. Something hit Doctor Britling's head with terrific force, then everything went black. (To he continued daily.)