INVITATION TO MURDER

Auckland Star, Volume LXV, Issue 17, 20 January 1934, Page 8 (Supplement)

INVITATION TO MURDER

•By J. R. WILMOT

CHAPTER XXI. "Arrest Vance!" Forster was waiting for Burke in the private room at tlie inn. "I've circulated the description, sir, and have to report that Grainger and his pal Delisle have emptied out. Our local man says he saw Delisle's- car with Grainger at the wheel on the main Gloucester Road at seven o'clock last night, licking along at high speed." "He didn't see anything of Grenville, then?" ' - — "I asked him that, eir, but there's nothing doing." "Grenville's not the typo of boy to rush headlong into trouble," mused Burke, "and yet after what that girl told him about Delislo, I wonder . . ' "Did you see Birtles, sir?" "You're wrong there, Forster. You've slipped up. Birtles is not your man. .A I half-brother so I gathered. Now how many people could have taken that dagger from Blacon Grange?" Burke sat down at the table and buried his head in his hands. Then he looked up. "We're leaving this after- ' noon, Forster. I've got to make a report in person at headquarters. Four o'clock that same afternoon found Burke closeted with Sir Michael Kenyon. "I knew you'd do it," exclaimed the ' A.C. warmly when Burke had finished ; speaking, "but I'm not so sure that I agree with your magnanimous expression of innolence. It's the neatest piece of circumstantial evidence I know," he commented. "The old man's in it up to the neck." "But I don't see that he had any motive, sir," Burke protested. "A man needs a pretty strong motive for murder. | And even assuming he had, would he commit the crime with a dagger from his own collection? That's the weakness, sir. There are too many people at Blacon ready to testify to the fact that j the weapon was missing." 1 "I concede your point, Burke, but we : must not forget that Vance and Stone were by no means friends, and though Vance appears to have had nothing to ' gain by the murder, we must not forget the fact that hallucination frequently plays an important part in crimes that are not obvious. Wo know so little about the past lives of both these men that we cannot judge with any degree of certainty." "I would suggest, sir, that no action is taken in the matter for the moment." ' Sir Michael looked thoughtful and drummed on the edge of hia desk with the tips of his fingers. "You mean arresting Vance? Of course the position is difficult, and on the face, of it, Burke, the man is guilty. Everything points to that. We have to accept his story that he found Stone dead, and even if we agree that he did the logical and human thing in stealing the weapon and concealing it, we have his persistent lies confronting us. In every respect the man has behaved like a criminal. I see no harm in issuing a warrant immediately. If no other purpose were served and your own ideas of the man's innocence prove correct someone is going to bo forced into the open." Burke started. He had expected this, but ho had never dreamed that Sir Michael would want to apprehend Vance immediately. Such a course had been riglft outside the area of his recent calculations. "If you do that, sir,, we shall never find Stone's murderer, 'sir, and I shall feel called on to hand in my resignation." « _ Burke's words came quietly yet incisively. There was a note of determina- , tion in his voice that caused an uneasiness in the mind of the assistant commissioner. ! "Nonsense, Burke," ho protested, : "what good would resignation do' for , you? Why, man, you're- only af the ! beginning of your career. One of these i days I'd like to stake that you'll be j occupying this room as lam doing now." ' _ "That may or may not be prophetic, sir, but I mean what I say. John Vance is innocent, and if you make the mistake ! of arresting him our chances of laying the criminal by the heels will be gone. ! So long as Vance remains at liberty, and ! so long as it would appear that Scotland Yard has drawn off Vance, the sooner , will our man show his hand." "You mean, Delisle?" • ■ "I do, sir."* * "But on your own admission, Burke, , the man has a cast-iron alibi. Even Arsene Lupin was never in two places at once." s "My ultimatum still holds, sir." 1 "Oh, well, I suppose I'll have to pander c to your eccentricity," grumbled Sir Michael, "and I expect that when word 6 of the hash we've made of it comes to the Commissioner and the Home Secretary, we shall all be for the high jump." "You are forgetting Parliament, sir, and the House of Lords," smiled JSnrke, knowing that he had won his point. ; Sir Michael made a peculiar noise s that might have been mistaken for derision or even annoyance. "Get on with it, and stop wasting my time," commanded the A.C. "And the next time you come in here, don't forget c to bring either Vance or—or whoever you pick on," he concluded. I l Curtis Burke felt inordinately pleased s with himself. The interview with Sir Michael had gone as he hoped it would. In his own office, Burke immediately sent for Sergeant Forster, who had been c told off to round up the London inquiries a aijd present a full statement. 1 ■ Forster came in humming a tune which might have been a hymn or a fox- * trot. "What's the broadcast now?" Burke I inquired, swinging around in his chair, t "Very thin programme, sir. Very thin a indeed. All holders of Mexican Oil stock 3 , have been interviewed with the excep- <3 tion of two." "I gave orders that everyone should be seen," interrupted Burke, irritably. "That was impossible, sir. The people concerned are dead and left no address." "Cut out the comic stuff, Forster, and let me see the report." a Forster, chastened, handed to Burke v a sheaf of papers, all neatly typed. '' "Any reply to the newspaper appeal?" ® he asked. "None, sir. People don't like to come ° out into the open over things like that. 1 Makes them look mugs. I know I a wouldn't." a "Perhaps you're right, Forster. Now a what about our old friend Rodgers." t Burke glanced through the report of P the man who had been guarding Mr. 0 Rodgers as though he were a brother for t a week. b Burke had heard a report about the incident in the tavern down by Wapping b Steps, but had not been inclined to pay f very much attention to it. Men in liquor i' could not be relied on, and what Rodgers n had said to his "friend" was probably n nothing more than sheer bravado. h

Mr. Rodgers liad made a journey each day to the City presumably in search of further employment. Every day tliat was, except yesterday, when he had spent the bulk of his time on a round tour of the public houses, getting himself pleasantly drunk. His "shadow" had reported that this was unusual, for, apart from the incident at Wapping, Rodgers liad always appeared the possessor of sober habits. "We'd better find out where he's getting his money from," instructed Burke.

"Withdraw the man you've got on to 3 him and take it on yourself, Forster. Rodgers didn't strike me as the type of j man who had saved a great deal of 1 money. He appeared rather careless." 1 "It shall be done, sir. I'll take over right away." "And see if there's anyone at home ' at Delisle's flat in Jermyn Street. If *• he's left Blacon he's almost sure to be ' in town." k Sergeant Forster left Burke to his . own particular devices. He didn't much , care for the job'allotted to him; felt ' that Burke was being unreasonable in " assigning him such a boy scout job. It was beneath the dignity of a sergeant i of Forster's mentality. 1 • ' Forster picked up Rodgers' shadow an hour later, after a round of telephone calls. The detective was disconsolate, j He bad left Rodgers' house at nine-thirty [ that morning. Rodgers had come down , to the City as usual and made his round I of the stock jobbers' offices. Then he , Had boarded a Chelsea bus in the Strand. i Detective Rafter had boarded the same vehicle. ' Rodgers had gone upstairs and ■ Rafter had an inside seat, close to the i door. Half-way along the King's Road . the bus pulled up sharply. Rafter looked ! out to see what was the matter, and i discovered a second bus drawn up along- , side the one in which ho was travelling. ; It appeared that a. portion of the road , was under repair—permitting only one vehicle to pass at a time. The driver , of a bus coming from tire opposite direc- : tion evidently imagined that he had the right of way, while a- similar thought crossed the mind of the driver of Detective Rafter's bus. As a result of this instance of simultaneous thought a collision was narrowly averted, and for a few moments the two • buses stood abreast and nearly touching. Rafter'scrutinised the'descending passengers at each stop, but there was no sign of Rodgers, and when eventually the vehicle arrived at its destination Rafter was amazed to discover that there were no passengers at all on the top deck. Rodgers had mysteriously vanished. The truth was Rodgers was beginning to grow anxious. Ho had been aware that he was being shadowed for a day or two, and the fact began to distress him. There were moments when he found himself being flung into a panic. On several occasions he had endeavoured to throw the watcher off the scent, but ho had never been wholly successful. Always the fellow was there somewhere around the house, waiting for him to begin the trail all over again. Now Mr. Rodgers particularly wanted to bo without an escort this day, and though he knew that Rafter had boarded the bus behind him, he fancied ho would be able to outwit the fellow later. It was when the altercation between the drivers of the two buses in the King's Road took place that Rodgers,_ being perplexed with a problem, decided to take immediate action. Ho found that the bus proceeding citywards was so close to his own that, from the open top he could stretch out a hand and touch the rail. The idea came to him immediately, and before anyone knew what, was taking place, Mr. Rodgers had clambered from one bus to the other, and, noting that the conductor of his newly acquired chariot had conic down from his platform to see what all the trouble was about, he sprang lightly down the steps and into the street. About half an hour later he approached a large detached house on tlio far side of Wandsworth Common and entered by the back door. A few minutes later ho was talking across a table to Rodney Delisle. , "What the devil did you'come here for?" Delisle demanded fiercely. "Are you insane? Didn't you have my in- < struetions? I'll have you know, ■ Rodgers, that when I give instructions I mean them to be carried out." 1 "Your instructions were carried out," snarled Rodgers, "and wlierc's it landed ] me? Trailed around all day and every day by_ a cop. What sort of a life do : you think mine is? Besides, I want 1 some cash. I'm cleaned out." Delisle's face had grown grey. ( "I suppose you've been trai'led here, ; then?" ' ( "D'you think I'm that sort of a fool? { Ivo got brains, I have. But you haven't ; answered my question. What about f some cash ?" 1 \ou can go to hell, Rodgers," was ( Delisle's answer. "When I go to hell I won't do the c trip alone," said Rodgers, with a world t of meaning in his words. . threatening, oh? I like vour nerve, i Rodgers, you little rat. What will you say when X ring up the police ?" "You daren't do that," snapped back s Rodgers. ] "One never knows what.l shall do one ] of these days," Delisle told him. "You 1 are quite sure no one knows you came ( here ?" fu% 0t a soul '". Rod S er s told hope- < "That's all right for me,"' flashed ] Dehslo as ho got up and strode from ' the room. At the door he turned and i added: "Because I've a notion that 1 you're going to make that hell trip quicker than you think." c • ; CHAPTER XXIT. i A Private Prison. ' Lan Grenville found himself a prisoner. < His prison was an attic which, from its ] appearance, had not been recently con- ] verted. The. small window in the wall 1 was heavily barred on the inside, even ■ though the window itself had never been f designed to open. A wooden camp bed 1 occupied one corner, of the apartment, i In the centre was a rough deal table and i a straight-backed chair, The door was 1 a substantial piece of work" with a large ( and heavy lock, and presumably triple i bolts on the outside. There were no s panels in that door—just a solid piece of timber that was likely successfully s to resist any efforts he might make to ] break it down.- ]

The night he had been caught had been an eventful one. Delisle, he had found, in a particularly nasty mood, and it seemed amazing to Grenville that a man could have such an ugly side to his nature. His language was coarse and his temper vile.' "...

I "You came here to spy, did you?" Delisle had said, with a sneer. "Well, I you know the penalty for spying, my young fellow. I never permit any spying in my affairs, and those who indulge in the pursuit usually regret the adventure sooner or later. At the moment I haven't quite made up my mind just what to do with you. It all depends on circumstances," and Delisle had laughed, a harsh, grating kind of laugh that made lan feel peculiarly chill and shivery. He had quickly come to the conclusion that the man was a dangerous maniac, i and as the bloodshot eyes narrowed in their gaze he felt that any suspicions t he may have had regarding Delisle's , complicity in the Stone murder and his ' culpability in trying to frame Yanco ~ more than substantiated. That the fellow was abnormal there could be no °> doubt; that he might not even stop at '» cold-blooded murder was also a proba- " bility. Yet Grenville was far from being afraid. He felt that he had achieved - something in following Delisle and '• Grainger, because Delisle was supposed 3 to have a flat in Jermyn Street—not a '• mysterious mansion somewhere in the f suburbs where he held nocturnal meetf ings with as slick a set of crooks as anyone could wish to lind outside the r pages of Chicago fiction. "What do you intend doing with met" j Grenvil'e had asked, modestly, f "I tell you I don't know, you fool," J Delisle had retorted. "You deserve to be shot —perhaps you shall be," he smiled, 3 devilishly. "Until I make up my mind a you remain here. By the way, have you t any money on you. Come on, out with i it-" t But lan had no time to comply with t the request personally. Two men who had been standing beside the door came r forward and conducted a searching in- , quiry among the contents of his pockets. ' Delisle snatched up the notecase and ' tore it open. From it ho pulled out four one pound Treasury notes, gazed at I them for a moment, and then uncere- , nioniously stuffed them into his pocket. "That'll do," he spat at the two men. ' "Take him upstairs. There's no' need | to truss him up; no one ever gets away ' from here." '■ So he had been taken upstairs and ' flung into this room. He had felt his ' way around until he had come upon the ' bed. There he lay until the dawn broke " like a grey phantom stalking silently ' across the room. 1 At eight o'clock there had come to his ; ears the sound of a withdrawal of bolts and a snapping of a key in the lock. A man entered with a plate of bread and a 1 mug of cocoa. Without speaking he ' plfea tliem on the table in the centre of the icom and, with a glance at the man on the bed, immediately withdrew, locking and bolting the door again behind liim. The situation in Grenville's mind was fantastic. It savoured more of a page from fiction than from real life and as yet ho was unaware of-what his particular crime might be.. His brain was swimming with theories; some of them were spectacular ones in which he saw Delisle as the head of a great international gang of thieves, murderers and blackmailers. He was aware that such gangs existed. He had read about them in the newspapers, but for the life of him lie could not comiect Delisle's London activities with the affair at Blacon and' the murder of Martin Stone that Burko was investigating. Yet there obviously must be some connection, else Delisle would not take such pains to limit his freedom in the way he was doing. And to think that this scoundrel was actually engaged to be married to Pamela Vance. The thought made him shiver. Of course it was absurd. The whole thing seemed more like a dream than a reality. Once or twice he had actually stretched out his arm to make quite sure it was not a nightmare. Towards midday the door opened again and Delisle entered. He was as debonair as usual, in faultlessly cut clothes, well groomed. "There are one or two things I forgot to ask you last night," Delisle began, calmly, but with a steely edge to his words. "The first is how much do you know about Vunce and his daughter; how much they have told you." "Nothing at all," lied Grenville, "Pamela had so little time for talking to me." "You can cut out all that," said Delisle, savagely. "You do know something and I'm going to find out how much you do know. If, as you say, you know nothing, what was your object in sneaking into my car last night and following me here?" "Just curiosity," smiled Grenville. "And may I ask whether your curiosity is satiated, Mr. Grenville?" "Partly, Mr. Delisle. I have the advantage of seeing you as you really are and not what people at Blacon imagine you to be." Grenville regretted the taunt almost before the words had left his lips. It was, little good trying to fence with Delisle. v "So you think 'you know, eli," snarled Delisle, advancing to where Grenville was sitting on the edge of the low bed. "Well, take that and see something else," and before Grenville could offer any defence the man's fist shot out and caught him full between the eyes. With a groan the young man fell backwards and Ia3 r still. For a moment Delislo stood over the prostrate form of Grenville with a cynical and malicious smile on his face. {■ • ' "And there's much moro than that coming to you, my cock sparrow; or to anyone else who cares to butt into my affairs uninvited," and with that ho went from the room. a • ♦ • • Sergeant Forster was particularly * scathing when he heard Constable 1 Rafter's story of the disappearance of ' Mr. Eodgers. What Sergeant Forster i. had to say about the efhciency of C.I.D. : constables would be an education to any ' professor of essentially modern languages. ■ " "And now I suppose I've got to find c him myself," grumbled the sergeant, "and all because . . . but what's the * use ? We all have our trials and tribulations." ' It was little wonder that Sergeant 1 Forster, when he returned to Scotland I Yard at 9 o'clock that night, was in an ill-humour. He had drawn a definite i blank at Jermyn Street. True, he had found the flat rented to Delisle, but the caretaker had told him that Mr. Delisle 1 had not been to the place more than { three times the whole summer. The last a time, it appeared, was two months ago, t when he spent the night there and went i away early the following morning. What was Mr. Delisle like? Did he have many visitors to the flat? The caretaker could ? not say for sure. Delisle had always 1 been easy to get along with, and if he ever had visitors they were certainly t not the kind that caused any apprehension in the mind of the caretaker. e Forster went away grumbling to himself. He couldn't understand Inspector r Burke's methods of working at all. Why, j here was a clean-cut case against John j Vance as any policeman could wish. Why should he, Sergeant Forster, bo con- }, demned to eliase his tail around London. s Now, had it been Grainger, or Blrtles, jj Sergeant Forster could have understood it better. Particularly had it been Grainger. One of these days he must

hunt Grainger up. Tho fellow might he worth a visit if only to renew acquaintance. It would be quite like old times. As for Rodgers . once again Sergeant Forster's vocabulary came to his aid in his hour of trial. He had argued with Burke until he was blue in the neck about Rodgers. Tho fellow was of no consequence at all. Simply didn't count. Burke was still at Ms desk when Forster entered, and told his tale of woe. "That's too bad," consoled Burke. "But I did think Rafter had more in him than that. But what's the worry? He'll be back home again to-night, and we'll bring him down here in the morning for a little private chat." But these things didn't work out that way at all. Mr. Rodgers did not return home that night. Neither was he seen in any of his favourite hostelries. But at 11.20 that same night, a body was taken from the river in the neighbourhood of Battersea Bridge. Burke received the call at the Yard, and Forster was still with him bemoaning his bad luck. "Come on," called Burke, "we're going to Battersea." "What for?" asked Forster. "I feel more like going to bed." "They've taken a body from the river," explained Burke, "and the Inspector says he has a notion it's Rodgers." But even that information failed to ignite the spark of enthusiasm in the sergeant's breast. He whistled sadly as he followed the Inspector from the building. (To be continued Saturday next.)