SIX WERE TO DIE

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 207, 1 September 1932, Page 22

SIX WERE TO DIE

*Peter Qafc>

CHAPTER XII. Dr. Britling's Peril. "Cocktail?" suggested Gideon Levison. "I think I am entitled to one on this occasion," replied Dr. Britling, dryly. Levison looked at him with one eyebrow cocked. "Something in the wind?" "Only the trifling matter of my imminent decease," said Daniel dryly. This rather startling remark did not disturb in any way the perfect composure of Gideon Levison. He continued to manipulate the cocktail shaker in expert fashion, although he turned his eleek head in Daniel's direction, and favoured him with an inquiring glance. The hour was a quarter to eight, and they were in the library awaiting the announcement that dinner was served. Mark Annerley was the only other occupant of the room, but he had consumed so much alcoholic stimulant in the course of the day that he was there in the flesh only. He was now engaged in sleeping off the effects of his dissipation in the depths of a comfortable armchair frorr.: which, every now and then, came a fitful grunting and eighing, somewhat akin to the sounds a sleeping dog utters when he is a prey to exciting dreams, but with an undernote of fear running through it. Levieon filled two glasses with palegreen liquid and handed one to Daniel, who sipped it appreciatively. "All right?" '"""— "Excellent, thanks." "Good!" Levison sampled his own. "H'ln, not bad. Tell me, what exactly did you mean by the remark you made ?" Daniel handed him the letter he had found on the floor of his bedroom. The Jew read it with raised eyebrows. When lie looked up there was a worried look in his eyes which Daniel had not seen there before. "Doctor," he said gravely, "I should clear out if I were you." "Don't talk rot!" retorted Daniel brusquely. "If you were me you'd stay. You know you would." A faint smile flickered across the other's lean face. "Perhaps I should. But that doesn't alter the fact that you're in danger—terrible danger." He reclined against the table, and swung one black-clad leg. "Something tells me that we're fighting the inevitable," he remarked calmly. "Frankly, I don't think you or anyone else can help. us. I hate to think of you risking your life to no purpose. I wish you'd go." Daniel met his gaze squarely. "I intend to stay." Levison tapped the letter with a long slim finger, and his dark eyes looked straight into Daniel's grey ones. "I shouldn't underestimate thie warning." Daniel met his gaze squarely. "I'm estimating it at its face value," he replied simply. There was a pause, while they exchanged understanding smiles. "Will you shake hande?" Dr. Britling took the proffered hand and shook it warmly. "You're an obstinate little devil," said the financier lightly. "Another cocktail ?" "Thanke, I will." As they sipped their cocktails, Levison produced a square white envelope which was the fellow of the one which had encased the warning message Dr. Britling had received, extracted a single sheet of notepaper, and handed it to his companion without comment. The worde: "You are the third," typewritten in the centre of.the sheet, was j the brutally brief inscription. : "He's going to be busy, with two ! murders to arrange," eaid Levison dryiy I watching Daniel's face "You'll be on your gua.rd every I minute?" Daniel almost pleaded. The other's face set in grim, hard lines. "Yes. This time his task won't be easy." Leaning backwards across the table, he picked up an evening newspaper and spread it flat, pointing to a line of large type which was spread across the entire width of the page, reinforced by several minor headings and~ two columns of print: "FIVE FINANCIERS MARKED ?OR DEATH! " Two Already Murdered In Cold Blood. "DRASTIC REVENGE PLOT ALLEGED." "The work of Chief Inspector Howells." said Levison grimly. "I had to tell him the whole story, and the fathead gabbled it to the reporters. For that, he dines to-night at the village pub—or not at all!" "It had to come out sooner or later," Daniel pointed out. "Naturally. But I've held it up this far for a damned good reason." Levison indicated a paragraph eet in larger type: "PANIC ON STOCK EXCHANGE. "Twelve Stocks Blacklisted." "Aβ the result of frenzied dealing in the shares of companies in which the five financiers, two dead, and three alleged to be doomed, were interest3d, the values of the stocks hurriedly unloaded dropped to a matter of shillings from the previous value of pounds. Trading in these stocks has been temporarily suspended. The companies affected are " "Fortunately, I've come well out of it," he remarked quietly. "Yesterday afternoon when I heard about the death of Jubal, I 'phoned my agents to 3cll these stocks short and continue to sell until further orders. To-day, when the panic broke, I bought back all I had contracted to deliver at a fraction of the price for which I sold. I've made at a conservative estimate, a million pounds on the deal." Daniel stared at him curiously. "You had the nerve, to conduct a. gigantic operation like that while ycur very life was in danger?" The other laugher bitterly. "It's in the blood to take advantage of Opportunity, no matter in what manner ehe knocks. Mark, on the other hand, could think of nothing but his skin. He isn't sober enough to realise- it yet, but I should ■■imagine- he's wiped put." "AVhat 1 Daniel repressed the qxiestion he had been about to ask, but Levison was shrewd enough to guess its import. "You were going to ask me what use a million pounds will be to me if I die to-Bigati , ! ..-..- ; ; -•;;,,

"Something like that," Danied admitted reluctantly. "Put like that, the struggle for money is futile," Levison murmured reflectively. "I couldn't take it with me. I might leave it to charity—a fund for the relief of distressed clericals!" He laughed at that. "Yes, that's an idea! Minister* are the greatest suckers in the world- I'd like to feel that they were getting back a little of what I've taken from them." Dinner was a subdued affair. Only five Avere present out of the seven who had dined together the previous evening. ; Hubert Quail had been removed from the need for earthly sustenance.- Hie niece .was dining alone in her room. The conversation was disjointed and desultory, and no one, apparently, had much appetite. Half-way through the meal, Cora Annerley, whose face was thick witn make-up to hide the ghastly pallor beneath, leaned across the table and laid two white pellets in front of .Daniel. "I found one of them in my ring this morning," she said hoarsely. "And the other in the same place while I was dressing for dinner. I had locked the ring away in my jewel-case and there was no sign that the lock had been forced, but there they were. They—they almost seemed to mock me . . . ■. death in my ring, every time I look there. I'm beginning to be afraid." Daniel put the pellets of poison in his waistcoat pocket. "They can do you no harm —in your ring," he reminded her. Mrs. Annerley looked away sharply, as though she were afraid that her eyes would betray the struggle that was going on in her mind. Old Israel Strauat cackled with malignant laughter. As Levison and Dr. Britling were leaving the dining room together, they encountered Chief Inspector Howells, who was about to leave the house. Ignore ing Dr. Britling, he addressed Levison with an unpleasant light in his eyes. "I'm returning to the Yard for a consultation with the chief commissioner," he said brusquely. "I'm taking with me the'finger-prints of every personin the house or grounds with the exception of yourself, Mr. Straust, Mr. Annerley, and" —he turned heavy eyes on Daniel — "Dr. Britling, here. If Arthur Marckheim is in the house disguised, or if any persons known to the police are cmployed among the domestic staff, I'll know about it in a few hours, and will communicate with the local police, who will know what steps to take. I'm leaving a plain-clothes detective and two constables in charge, and I'll be back in the village myself before dawn." He coughed aggressively. "It will be necessary, of course, for me to place the facts of your obstruction of the police before my superiors. Doubtless you will hear further of the matter in due course." "I shall be delighted," replied Levison suavely. "Excuse me, will you? I need a little fresh air." To Daniel, he added: "Going for a stroll, doctor. Care to come ?" "No, thanks," replied Dr. Britling. "I've something I want to do in my room." His eyes added the unspoken warning to be careful. Levison patted his shoulder lightly. Running down the steps of the house, he strode across the lawn towards an obscure garden gate where he was unlikely to encounter any reporters. Chief Inspector Howells glared after him in silence for a moment, then beckoned to one of his subordinates who was waiting in the hall with a closed basket (which Daniel instantly recognised) in his hands. "We've got a journey in front of us my lad," he growled. "Let's get a move on." Dr. Britling turned away.- - Aβ he mounted the stairs to his room no heard a sudden shout irom behind and the orange kitten sprinted past him. The detective who had been carrying it had fumbled with the catch of the basket to make sure that it was secure; the lid had popped open, and the kitten, grasping the opportunity, had squirmed out. White-faced With alarm, the detective hurried up the stairs on Daniel's heels. As they reached the first floor landing they saw the kitten scampering along the corridor. It scuttled through, the door of Dr. Britling's room, which was slightly ajar. The door opened wider, and there was a faint tinkle of broken glass. Daniel grasped the arm of the detective, who had been about to follow the kitten into the room, and drew him back to the head of the stairs. "If I'm not mistaken, the kitten has run into a trap which was meant for me," he said grimly. "Don't you make the same mistake!" He waited a little while, then pushed the door of his bedroom wider gingerly and switched on the light. On the floor just inside the room lay the limp body of the orange kitten and the broken piecep of a glass bomb about the size of a cricket ball, which had been suspended over the door. A faint odour of peach-blossom hung on the air. "Cyanide gas," commented Dr. Britling. "One good sniff, and I'd have been a goner," he. added inelegantly. (To be continued' daily.)'