The Jade Token

Manawatu Times, Volume LV, Issue 7377, 10 November 1930, Page 9

The Jade Token

BY RALPH TREVOR

v SYNOPSIS. A murder js committed in the surgery of Dr. Wallace Langley, he being: decoyed from the place at the time. The police find the murdered man, named Conrad Ricks, has come 1 from South Apierica, and had recently asked Jules Conn, an antique dealer, to value a piece of jade set with a valuable ruby ahd inscribed with , hieroglyphics. This. Jade token is now missing. Scotland Yard have been perplexed by a series of daring jewel robberies. Curtis Burke, a brilliant young detective, who Is given control of the case, connects these robberies with the murder of Conrad Ricks. Inspector Ames, an elderly deteotive, assists Burke. Ames is hostile to Dr. Langley, and feeling that he is under suspicion, Langley consults Sir Garvlce Watkin, a great criminal lawyer. Langley is engaged to Sonia Cran3ton, a niece of Sir Garvice. Sir Garvice tells the young doctor that there is something suspicious about Inspector Ames. Sir Garvice Watldn invites Burke to his country house. for the week-end, and he there meets Ann Marvin, a friend of Sonia Cranston. There is an atmosphere of mystery about Ann Marvin and Burke, although attracted-to her, suspects her of being a criminal. A gold crucifix belonging to Sir Garvice is stolen during the night. Looking for clues Burke finds a block bone button of an unusual type. There was only one man he knew who wore buttons like that, and that was Detective Inspector Ames, of Scotland Yard. Burke visits Professor Browning to try and learn something of the history of the ancient jade token which was stolen from the murdered man. Another murder is committed, and jewels stolen. Finger-prints lead to the arrest of one Joe Denver. Sir Garvice Watkin offers his services in the defence of the accused. At the trial it transpires that Denver has been a member of “The Long Arm,” a criminal association with an unknown head who directs all its operations. CHAPTER XX.—(Continued.) The road lie took was not much frequented with traffic, and the little car leapt forward into the darkness like a hound hot on the trail and determined not to lose it. On the long, lonely stretches the speedometer registered 50, but Burke was too preoccupied to nolioe anything untoward about the speed of the car. His whole thoughts were centred on Ann Marvin. He prayed to God that he would be in time. Onoe across the Reigate Road towards Cheam, Burke lessened the speed of the car considerably. In another few minutes he throbbed through the sleepy, old-world village of Ghesslngtou, and by the time he had passed through he was almost reduced to a crawl, keeping a sharp look-out for the house Ann had mentioned, on the left. He had purposely dimmed his powerful head-lamps in order that he might use his eyes to better advantage; and at last, standing well back from the road, lie saw a darkly-forbidding house. Switching off his engine, he parked the car on the wide grass track on the left of the road and scrambled out. The gate leading up to the house was heavily padlocked, but it did not take Burke many seconds to climb over it and drop down lightly on to the gravel path op the other side. Taking his torch from his pocket, he used the light judiciously, ignoring the path and walking on the grass towards the house. ~ ~ . , It was a larger house than it had looked from the road. The groundlloor windows were heavily shuttered, and tho detective paused for a moment to think out a definite plan of attack. He realised it would be useless knocking at the door and demanding admission. If Ann Marvin were a prisoner in the house it was unlikely that whoever was guarding her would accord him an enthusiastic welcome. To be of any service to her at all he must gain admission without the knowledge of whoever might he inside. Round at the rear he discovered what he sought—a -window unprotected by shutters. _ Taking a knife from liis pocket, it was only the work of moments before the cktoh yielded to his persuasions, and carefully raising the sash Burke climbed through and lowered himseif into the dark room beyond. The house seemed very still uncannily still. Burke flashed his torch discreetly and was quick to note that the room was empty. Cautiously he stole to the door and found it unlocked. The room—a sort of kitchen —opened on to a narrow corridor at one end of which -arose a flight ox stairs. Burke was compelled to disregard caution and use his toroh f ree lY The dust of many months covered everything with a grey pall. Even on the bannister rails no Angers had disturbed it. There it lay upon the floors, too, and there were no lO ?l P was S 'then that a sudden thought struck the detective. What if this had been nothing more than a trick to set him out of the way? S \ cold perspiration broke out upon his forehead. Heedless of everything he raced up the dart stairs hi. torch lighting the ™turn, ahd Every room he scarcueu 111 . ’ . found every one of them the j—empty. There was not a living soul, save himself, in this gloomy vault of a place. Certainly there was no Ann ssrst flrsswt. mi Mm look the utter fool he felt How must he laughing at him, wherever Ames mighi be by this time, for Burke had no doubt that this particular little piece of melodrama had been specially had S Marvin known he would be at

Instalment 20

idiot! A dolt! He remembered now noticing on his tlrst visit that the telephone in the hail at Ames’s house was an extension telephone, operating not only the exchange, but also communicating between at least five rooms. That was how Ann Marvin had known. She had been in the house all. the time. Probably she had been speaking to him i'rom a point no nearer to Ghessington than the bedroom overlooking the garden' at the baok of the house in Hampstead. Burke felt like kicking himself for his stupidity as he pushed the selfstarter and felt the engine quiver into life. There was nothing else for it now but to get back to Hampstead again as fast as ho could. Not, of course, that he expected to find them there awaiting to be arrested. That was altogether too much to hope for, but he aL least might get things moving to prevent the pair of scoundrels leaving England. But Burtce’s optimism vanished when, halfway between Sutton and Carshalton he was aware that the engine was not purring according to regulations, and glancing at the petrol gauge he was amazed to note that there was barely enough for another mile. His assessment was correct. The engine fluttered painfully, staggered a little, and then groaned to rest. He knew there was a garage at Carshalton, but that was four miles away. Burke looked at the luminous clock in front of him. It was a quarter past three. It would take him the best part of an hour to walk to the garage and another hour to get back. It was unfortunate, too, that he was in that part of the down country where houses are uot frequent, and even had he found one there was only half a chance that they would be ou the telephone. Burke felt snookered. Fate was dead against him, hut though his heart felt sore against the girl v» T ho had played him false like this he felt unaccountably glad that circumstances were giving her a chance to get safely away.

Half an hour later, however, Burke, sitting idly in his car, with his lamps burning to attract attention from any passing motorist, was surprised to hear someone hail him from behind, it proved to be a country constable who, having noticed Burke’s stationary lights, had taken a short cut to the road to investigate the mystery. Burke explained his plight, and incidentally indicated who ho was and the importance of getting back to London as quickly as possible. The constable was not half so rural as Burke had expected. He had a motorcycle combination of his own and a tin of petrol in his garage. If Mr Burke thought it would help him he would cycle back for it and be back with it inside ten minutes. The detective thanked him and crawled baok into his car* and lucked the rugs around him. This forced inactivity was beginning to chafe him. He hated to think that failure had -been caused through his own stupidity, and that he had utterly lost his sense of proportion at the sound of a girl's voice.

However, the constable came back under the time he had stated, and it was not long before Burke was roaring back to London with complete disregard of speed regulations. By the time he got to Croydon the golden dawn was breaking and the first of the world's workers were astir in the streets. He told himself there was no time for him to call in on the Embankment and freshen himself up. He must go straight to Hampstead. On second thoughts, however, he decided to call in at the Yard in case anything important had occurred during his absence. The officer on duty in the office seemed surprised to see him so early, but made no comment. “Not heard from Ames, have you?” inquired Burke casually. “No, sir!” replied the sergeant. Burke managed a cup of strong coffee and a couple of rolls, and by eight o’clock, after a wash, he turned the car towards Hampstead for what he believed might be the last act of the drama. Curtis Burke was staggered when Ames, smiling genially, opened ilia door to him. “ ’Pon my soul if it isn’t Mr Burke l” he exclaimed heartily, holding the door wide. “You’re just in time for breakfast, sir. Come right inside.” Burke, astonished at this cordial reception, followed the inspector with a feeling of helplessness. “This is the breakfast-room, Mr Burke,” said Ames, indicating a door at the end of the long hall. “I don’t think the eggs are quite done yet. By the way, how do you like yours—lightty boiled or hard?” The young man was about to make a caustic reply when Ann Marvin appeared through the communicating door that led to the kitchen, and from which came the appetising odour of freshly-made toast. His eyes momentarily brightened os he saw her, and she smiled a greeting. He was telling himself how thoroughly charming she looked in her pale blue overall.

Then he remembered how this fascinating creature had fooled him so cleverly, and his heart hardened. “You may both finish your breakfast,” he told them, in a tone of authority. “After that I shall trouble you to come along with me to Scotland Yard as my prisoners.” CHAPTER XXL “ moot My Daughter.’" 'j If Curtis Burke imagined that his announcement of taking Inspector Ames and Ann Marvin to Scotland Yard as his prisoners, would strike terror into the hearts of the pair, oi* even imbue them with ideas of resistance, he was sadly mistaken, for, wliafc happened was more nearly akin to comedy than grim tragedy. Ames had been pulling out a chair at the head of the table for his guest and paused with a smile on his lipg as he heard Burke’s words. Ann Marvin had just placed a rack of crisp brown toast on the table and had half turned towards Ames. She also smiled. The inspector's eyes twinkled merrily and served only to exasperate tha young man almost to the point of desperation. (To be Continued).