THE GIRL FROM NOWHERE

Auckland Star, 2 September 1933, Page 10 (Supplement)

THE GIRL FROM NOWHERE

CHAPTER XI. A Diversion. TTe told Mackellar of Lena Benson's corroboration of his theory of the fate of Eugene Brand. "Well, that makes it pretty certain that that's two more murders to be put down to Baruch's account. It's mounting up," said Mackellar calmly. "The cursed nuieance is, there's nothing to be done about it," said Dominic impatiently. "As long as the Sink's the Sink this kind of murder seems to go unpunished because the victims are pretty helpless and friendless people, and if they do have any friends, they're afraid to speak. If this Benson girl had come forward at once, there would have been a chance of nailing that —" "Don't you worry. Time fights for the police. Baruch has got to go on. The moment he gets tired of power and making money and quits the game, a dozen toughs who are in deadly fear of him as long as ho has his organisation going, lose that fear and go after him. He must be coming to the end of his tether, for we've known about him for over six years, and that's a long life for a crook running the dope racket." "But, if he has been making money, lots of money all these years and really made a million out of the Grutehfiekl business, why on earth doesn't he clear out of the country to the Pacific coast or South America?" said Dominic. "No one in the Sink could find his way to Peru." "Foreign countries are no use to a crook from the Sink. London's in his blood, and he'd die of boredom if ho were out of it for six months. That's why we get them in the end —or their friends do —always." "Well, I wish someone would be quick and get Baruch—damn quick," said Dominic. "Also you've got to bear in mind that Baruch didn't make a million out of the Grutclifield business," said Mackellar. "To begin with, it wasn't a million— couldn't have been —and then Kinipple had a slice of it, and it wouldn't bo a little slice either. Kinipple makes no secret of the fact that he makes it his business to spoil the spoilers 'Slid that half the crooks in London pay tribute to him. Yes; it would be some slice." "And that's a queer business, and Kinipple doesn't seem half a bad sort." "He says that if wo did our job properly, there wouldn't be any jobs at all for him, which in a manner of epeakLng is true. Hβ also brags that ho never goes outside the law; but I wouldn't bet on that."

"It must be a dangerous game; he must know some dangerous secrets," said Dominic. "Dangerous? He could send half the crooks in London to prison inside 12 hours, and if anything unpleasant happened to him, he's so arranged it that every judge in England would be dealing out hundreds of years of penal servitude to our best and brightest and hanging the rest. The crooks know it for certain. Why, they cherish him; they've got to." "Ho did say something about building new prisons, if we knew what wo just guess." said Dominic. "If we knew what Kinipplo knows, it would set the building trade on its legs for a generation!" said Mackellar; ■Ann rang up to say that Mr. Kinipple had found her another guardian and that she woxild be coming down to the Sink again that evening. "I'll come round this afternoon to see if .you are fit to travel, if I may," said Dominic.

"Do. Como to tea," sho said with a pleasing readiness. In tho afternoon ho went home to change,■'but bcfoi-e ho did eo ho took from a drawer in his bureau a small Derringer , pistol, made about 1870, which, for all that it could bo slipped into his waistcoat pocket, carried a heavy bullet. It was fitted with a tiny leather holster that held three spare cartridges. Ho worked on it for a quarter of an hour and changed the position of tho strap. Then ho went round to the police station and helped Mackcllar question three burglars who were suspected of having cracked two cribs. Then he took the tubo to Down Street and walked to Ann's flat. Hβ found her rather subdued, now that she had had time to realise the peril from which she had so narrowly escaped, but none tho less her indomitable spirit was bent on continuing the search for the murderer of Kugene Brand. He made no attempt again to dissuade her; he had said all he had to say about it: a wilful woman must have her way. Sho would in the end como to understand the hopelessness of lier effort. They talked about life in London and lifo in the country, and about his work, in which she showed a keen interest, and his ambition to be Chief Commissioner of Police. Ho told her that it was a promising si<m that he was working in the Sink at all, for it was a district to which only men of approved intelligence and initiative were appointed, and he regarded his transference from South Hampstcad as promotion, for the work was far more difficult. He had had two or three difficult cases in the year he had been in it, and been lucky witli them. "I wish you had been handling the inquiry into the disappearance of Maisie Grey. I'm euro you would have found Out a lot more about it," she said. "No one could have learnt more than Mackellar. He got all tho information that was to be got, every scrap of it," he assured her earnestly. She looked at him with shrewd eyes and eaid: "I believe you know more than you've told me." "I know no more than you do." "But you guess. Ncvpi - mind: I shall find out," she said confidently. : He spent a pleasant hour and a half with her and arranged to be keeping an eye oil her, and a much closer eye than he had kept on the last occasion, from the cab rank to The Jolly Young Waterman. He begged her not to tell her new bodyguard that ho also was keeping watch over her, any more than she had told Keevcs—not, at any rate, till they knew who the new bodyguard was and that he was to be trusted. Then, as he rose to go, he took out the little pietol and held it out to her and said: "I want you to carry this pistol. You strap it round the leg just under the knee. No one who searches you ever thinke to look there." SHe took it and examined it and said: "But what a useful little pistol! It carries quite a heavy bullet. What do I owe you for it?" "Nothing. I'm lending it to you till your search is over. Don't use it unless you have to., But I know you won't. And when you do use it, don't aim too high." "I won't,'. , said Ann. Dominic was waiting forty yards from the top of Barrow Street when Ann arrived at the top of it with her new bodyguard, and the sight of that body-

EDGAR JEPSON.

guard was a shock to him. It was Archie McGraw, one of Baruch. Colcutt's most elusive lieutenants. He asked himself in considerable consternation what the devil Kinipple was driving at, unless, of course, he. did not know who MeGraw was. Was that astute lawyer so sure that a girl under his protection was so safe from the Dope King that he did not care whether Baruch knew that she was seeking the murderer of Eugene Brand or not? Was it a challenge to Baruch? Was he so sure that sho would got no information that ho thought Baruch would not bother about her? Or was it really a sinister game? Whatever the tie might be which bound Kinipple to Ann, it was certainly not affection. Was he deliberately throwing her in Baruch's path in order to get rid of her? That might easily be; she had money; he might be after it. At any rate, it was a disquieting business. Ho followed Ann and McGraw down to The Jolly Young Waterman, pondering anxiously, wondering what he had better do. He could do nothing at present. A littlo way from the pub he passed them, with a greeting to Ann, and entered and sat down. Bandy was there, but not Fred. Their comradeship was for the time being at an end, and Fred was hoping that it would never be revived. At any rate The Jolly Young Waterman, the haunt of that comrade of such a distressing social status, was tho last place in which Fred : would willingly find himself. Careless of his comrade's defection, Bandy was drinking with a happy freedom; he was one of those happy souls who can drink by themselves as joyously as with a boon companion, who, after all, w<suld only be an expense. Since it was the only form of thrift ho practised, he practised it with assiduity. On the stroke of nine Ann and her bodyguard came through the door. Dominic was watching Bandy. Ho saw the expression of incredulous amazement fill his face at tho sight of her; his lips formed tho words: "She's got awye!" He rose and scuttled out of the bar, and he did not come back. On his way out ho passed close to Ann. Unbearded she did not recognise him. Dominic thought it just as well. If sho had recognised him, and taxed him with his felony, sho would have found no sympathy in the jolly young waterman; it might not have approved tho kind of felony out of which. Bandy mado his living, but, if ho chose to make it in that way, it was no one's business but his. Live and let live was tho motto of the Sink; it would feel that Bandy was getting his living in his usual way, and it did not wish to be disturbed about it over its drinks, Ann -would only weaken tho favourable impression she had mado by standing so many of them. Old acquaintances, introduced by Dan Kceves, camo and drank with her and brought new ones with them. Sho was holding a veritable salon. Dominic wondered what Archie McGraw was thinking about it; had ho yet discovered the reason of lier entertaining? He hoped not. Even more keenly lie hoped that sho would learn from no one that Maisio Grey had had a friend named Lena Benson. Only if she did and Lena talked, and she would talk, would the fat be really in the lire.

ITo kept a watchful eye on Ann, but lie had al*o an eye* on tho lips of the rest of his flock; their talk was not illuminating. Then Billy Weeks, a friend of lied Micky'e enmo in, and with him came Moses Steinbaum, tho proprietor of a jeweller's shop—cheap jewellery— on the main road to civilisation, whom tho police suspected of acting as fence with great discretion, so that they never got beyond suspicion. It was an interesting companionship, and Dominic gave them his close attention, which was the easier for him since, in Ihcir ignorance of his accomplishment, they sat down at a tablo near him. Presently, he found that Billy was talking to <ho jeweller about Homo goods of superlative merit lio wished to sell him, and sinco the jewels of which 'Micky had so unlawfully possessed himself were of unusual value, Dominic's interest grew. He became aware that the jeweller's heart was the scene of a bitter struggle between cupidity and caution and then that cupidity had won. Ho looked at Ann; she would be safe enough till closing time; MeUraw could even be trusted to escort her safely to her taxi. Ho rose and walked quietly out into the street and waited on the other side of i,t, in a doorway in deep shadows forty yards away. "Where's the Stuff?" lie had not to wait long; In Tittle more than five minutes Billy Week's and the jeweller came out. They made it easy for him to follow them by moving down the street away from him. It was a narrow street, and seventy yards down it they turned down a narrower. Dominic followed them with cat-like quietness, hugging the house-fronts, and he had to hug them closely, for both of Uicui kept looking back to sec if they were followed.

But ho was troubled; if lie was, as ho believed, at last on the. way to Red Micky, he ought to have help. Red Micky was one of the most violent ruffians and able scrappers in the Sink; it was no one man's job to take him; three wore none too m'any. But no help presented iUself; Dominic did not shrink from a scrap, but it was hie business to make sure of taking hie man. Well, he must do the beet he could on his own. They were evidently making a circuit, and that through most unsavoury slums. At last they came to Trinidad Row, one of the worst streets in the Sink— house, was the home of river thieves— and at the top of it they stopped, looking warily back for a couple of minutes along the street by which they had come, making quite sure that no one was on their track. They did not see Dominic flattened against a doo: - in the shadow. Reassured, they went down Trinidad Row. Dominic gave them time to get some way down it, then ran lightly to the corner and peered do\Vn it. They stopped at the eleventh house. Billy Weeks knocked at the door— three slow single knocks and a sharp rat-tat. They went in. Dominic walked briskly down the street: only a few belated children were playing in it; their parents were in {the pubs. He stopped at Xb: 11 and imitated Billy's knocks. A woman opened the door. "Lor!" she said, as Dominic gripped her arm and shook the yell of warning she was about to utter down her throat. "I've come for Rod Micky;" he said. "Where is he?" "Find im!" ehc gasped. He shook her again, and thrust her through tbe'-open door of the room from i which she had come, and locked it on' her. Though the pubs were etill open,'

there might be a dozen or more of Micky's friends in the house, all ready to give trouble, Hβ went quietly up tho stairs and stood on each, lauding, listening. Behind sonio doors was silence; behind others men and women talked; behind others children chattered sleepily. Then, from behind a door on the third floor, came the sound of voices raised in a wrangle, men's voices, one, tho loudest, Irish. Very gently Dominic turned the handle; the door was locked. He thought for a few seconds, then he knocked the three elow single knocks and sharp rat-tat. A chair was drawn back; tho door \yae opened; on the threshold stood Billy Weeks; over hie shoulder Dominic saw the very plain face of Red Micky, a middle-aged, red-haired Irishman, the redder for the fact that his mother had not known enough to keep his oyee clean when he was a baby, aiid that he was flushed with a- good deal of it.

At the eight of Dominic, Micky rose to his feet, and, staggering on them, felt behind him for his revolver with fumbling fingers. "It's all right, Mackellar! He's here!" shouted Dominic over hie shoulder, and he jumped for Micky and gripped the wrist of the hand tugging at the revolver in his hip pocket, dragged it free and snapped a handcuff on it, caught tho other arm, dragged it back and down, snapped the other handcuff on the wrist, and had him helpless. Ho had no fear of Billy or the jeweller; they were not tho fighting kind; Billy stood still, dithering; Steinbaum sat even stiller, staring at Dominic as if he could not yet believe his eyes. Dominic took tho revolver out of Micky's hip pocket and slipped it into his own jacket pocket. "Xot worth swinging for, Micky," he said. The action or the words roused the Irishman from the drunken daze which had made it so easy for Dominic to handcuff and disarm him. He made a jump at Steinbaum and fetched a kick at him which sent him flying, chair and all, hard against tho wall, and roared: "Yo dirrty swoine, ye! Bethray me to the pollis, would ye'i" And before Dominic could interpose ho had kicked Billy into the corner with an equal violence. It was a natural mistake, and Dominic did not try to set him right, and on second thoughts he did not interpose till Micky had worked off a good deal of his fury first on Billy, and then on Steinbaum, with his 'boots. He thought lie would como more quietly to the'*station. Billy was tho first to get to the safe side of tho table, and quickly the jeweller joined him. They kept it between them and tho toes of their hampered comrade till exhaustion from frantic effort quietened him.

Then Dominic said: "That'll do for the present, Micky. Keep a bit for when you como out. It will bo something to do." "Shuro I'll kape it, I will!" said Micky in murderous accents. Dominic turned to the fence, -who etill held on to tho table, an expression of dismal astonishment and anguish on his pale, fat face, and tears streaming down his cheeks. "You're keeping queer company for a respectable tradesman, Mr. Stehibaum," he said. "But I suppose you find it profitable." " —l'm not hero on 'b-Vbusineee," sobbed the fence, and he grabbed at his chine nervously. "Pleasure, I suppose," eaid Dominic. "Well, I should think that you have about had your fill of it. Where's the etuff you were looking at?" "It's—it's in the t-table d-drawer." Dominic swept him away from the table and opened the drawer. There was tho plunder. (To be continued Saturday next.)