Mystery of Darling Point

Franklin Times, Volume XXII, Issue 91, 5 August 1932, Page 7

Mystery of Darling Point

BY ROBERT KNOCK

The man who had been absorbed over a glass bench when they entered now rose to his feet. He wore a colourful dressing-gown over evening clothes. Clearinghi s throat nervously, he blinked at them through his thick spectacles.

Vance immediately recognised Dr Marcus Drum.

Johnny Warren stepped forward and performed an elegant introduction. "I fancy we are already acquainted," said Vance, extending a hand. "Ah, yes, yes, of course, yes!" ndtided the doctor. "I recall the-ah-cir-cumstances perfectly. Delighted to see you again, my young friend." Johnny addressed Vance.

"Dr. Drum is to be your host for a day or two," he explained. "You will be quite safe here." "Oh, absolutely safe, absolutely," supplemented the doctor. "You will And, Barnaby," continued Johnny, "that he has been fully informed about everything. All you have to do now is to wait instructions from headquarters. Well, I suppose I can be toddling off now. So long, Barnaby. So long, doctor." With a smile and a nod the fairheaded young man turned towards the door, which opened on the instant to disclose the bland, yellow, slant-eyed face of Cheng Tai, who escorted him out.

"Rather a jack-in-the-box, that servant of yours," Vance remarked when the door had closed.

Dr. Drum nodded his head complac-

ently. 'Very valuable man, very valuable

indeed."

Vance glanced round the laboratory. "You condu t scientific experiments?"

"In a small way, an extremely small way." Drum pursed his lips, thrust his hands into the pockets of his brilliantly hued dressing-gown, and rocked himself gently back and forward on his slippered feet. "I specialise in drugs. Most interesting subject, this pharmacology, oh, most interesting. One-ah-meets so much that is unusual and-ah-thrilling if one goes deeply into it."

An ordinary observer might, have imagined the doctor a bit of a fool. But Vance Barnaby had met too many clever people who resembled idiots and often deliberately posed as such. He knew that Marcus Drum was a pharmacologist of some note. Thus it was all the more remarkable that such a man should be connected with that master criminal the Whisperer.

The doctor had picked up a small phial from the glass bench.. "For example," he began, "consider this drug. I-ah-came across it during my recent tour of the East. Something unique, quite unique. Entirely tasteless— produces a deep sleep lasting many hours—leaves no after-ef-fects, absolutely no after effects. I have to acknowledge a great debt to this particular drug, for it set me on the track of the most perfect anaesthetic yet evolved—the secret of which I shall reveal in the near future to the world's medical profession.

The doctor's assumption of modesty was somewhat absurd. Vance however, had begun to see a little daylight. "I believe," he observed, "that when the Otiosa was held up the other night a number of men aboard were over-

powered by certain fumes whose origm has not been explained." "Ah, I observe you are quick, my young friend," nodded Drum. But he said no more on the subject. Vance wondered. Here was further mystery. What could be the explanation for a scientist of such repute as Drum lending himself to evildoing under the Whisperer's com-

mand ? There came three slow taps on the door and the Chinese servitor entered bearing glasses on a tray. "Ah," said Dr. Drum, i; Cheng Tai with the port. You will join me, Mr Barnaby?" When they had emptied their glasses the doctor spoke again. "I presume you must be weary after vour experience of the night. 1 shall not keep you longer with my dull ■ scientific chatter. Cheng, kindly show my guesT to his room." Vance was led to a bedroom on the other side of the house. The room was fully prepared, even to the folded pyjama suit lying on the bed. ' "The honorable guest will be comifortable?" questioned the yellow man I from the doorway. "Quite, thank you."

Cheng Tai bowed and retired. Vance felt an abrupt feeling of drowsiness. But with an effort he fought it off. There was work to be done before morning, work that would require every sense at its keenest. For some time he waited, pacing up and down to keep himself awake. All the time he had an instinct that unseen eyes were watching him. Once he heard the soft pad-pad-pad of footsteps passing his door. Switching off the light he waited a while longer. At last he cautiously opened the door enough for him to look out. The passage was enveloped in complete darkness. He stepped out and felt his way along the wall, pausing at a turn in

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the passage. From this point he knew the laboratory was straight ahead.

No light showed under the door now. Apparently Drum had retired also.

Vance felt sure that a search of the laboratory would yield important results. If luck came his way there might be something to bring him closer to the goal in tracking down the Whisperer, some incriminating evidence against Marcus Drum. Then, too, he would have to devise a means of informing his uncle, the Assistant Commissioner of Police, of the working of their scheme. Stealthily creeping forward he was within a couple of yards of the laboratory when abruptly a blinding beam from an electric torch flashed in his face. "Does the honorable guest require anything?" asked the voice of Cheng Tai. The Australian Secret Service man made to speak, but a rush of drowsiness engulfed him and he slumped forward into the Oriental's muscular arms.

CHAPTER IX.

'•A DETECTIVE IS MOCKED."

The events of the evening liad left Josephine with a heavy heart. Listlessly she kissed her father good-night at his door and went on towards her room.

Though she attempted to banish it from her mind, a mental picture of Vance Barnaby's dark, keen face rose continually before her. Vance Barnaby! It had not been until this evening that she had realised how big a place he had assumed in her life. And then to find he was not the man of fine ideals whose friendship had seemed so wonderful, but something utterly different, something which changed all her feelings towards him.

"Oh, why did he have to do this to me!" was the thought born of pain. When a very young girl, Josephine had realised the cold, hard actualities surrounding her, had realised that her father and his associates were schemers on the wrong side of the law, and that she herself had been accepted as their mascot, a luck-bringer for their evil-doing.

But, honest by some deep-rooted instinct, she hated this mode of existence, hated with a fierceness that sometimes could not be controlled. Always she fought to keep herself uncontaminated.

Vance Barnaby had come into her life and brought with him for a brief space the atmosphere of good breeding, frankness, honesty. And Fate had indulged in a little sardonic humour, seeing to it that Barnaby was a common poseur, in reality a jewel thief—a so-called gentleman crook.

"I must forget," she whispered passionately to herself, "I must forget!" At that moment she was brought back to her surroundings with a jolt. She almost collided with Jasper, the manservant, who was coming out of her bedroom just as she was about to enter.

"Why, what is the matter, Jasper?'

She thought for an instant that she saw an alarmed look flicker for a moment in his eyes.

But he drew back with a bow and spoke as calmly as ever. "Beg pardon, Miss." He was on the point of continuing on his way when evidently he noticed Josephine was about to ask for an explanation of his presence in her room at that hour.

"I was passing," he hastened to say, "and observed that the window had not been properly fastened. The wind was blowing in. It is quite all right now, Miss."

'Oh . . .' thank you, Jasper." 'Good-night, Miss."

Josephine wondered

With a woman's intuition she had sensed a falseness in Jasper's manner. There had been some other reason for his presence here. She felt certain of that.

Once or twice before she had surprised Jasper acting in a manner that was for a butler rather peculiar. However, she had not worried much over j it, for in many little ways he showed ! that he was unquestioning and unwavering in his loyalty to her. Josephine entered her room. Her eyes rested upon her dressing-table, and she noticed a small piece of paper lying there with a scent bottle standing on one corner of it. It was a message addressed to her, and pencilled in rough block letters. She picked it up with questioning heart.

For a moment she stood in stupefaction. Then she crushed the note in her hand, swung round abruptly, and ran to the door. The manservant was just turning the corner at the far end of the corridor.

"Jasper! Just a minute, please." "Yes, Miss?" he asked politely when he came back. Josephine hesitated. "I j found a note on my dressingtable just now. Do you happen t.o know anything about it?" (To be Continued).