"John Smith-Blackmailer"
(By Lindsay Hamilton)
CHAPTER XXXI
“Secondly," proceeded Peek unmoved, “that Colonel Gretlon’s diary is placed into my hands at the same time.”
“How (lie devil can I’?” shouted Armstrong furiously. “I haven't got it. And if you want to know I’ve destroyed it. The thing was no darned use any longer, might be dangerous. Now you know.” ,
“Well, now, that is unfortunate Tor you,” said Peck softly. “And the third
“One minute,” interrupted Vera. “It’s all a bit, one-sided so far. What do we get out of it? If that doesn’t satisfy me you need go no further.” “I think it will,” said Peck. “You are prepared for a journey. Your car, I noted, is waiting. You will depart at once. Nothing could be simpler."
“And after?” Vera demanded suspiciously. “What is to prevent you setting the police after us?" “As to that I shall take no action whatsoever. You must take my word for it. Not too much to ask, I think, after your husband's asking me to take his cheque. Shall I proceed to my third and last condition?" “Go on.”
"It is a mere trifle, a personal matter between Armstrong and myself. He was good enough to promise me a donation of five hundred pounds for the Crime Key Circle fund.” Armstrong went livid with fury.
“Pah!” he ejaculated. “All I require,” murmured Peck, “Is the money in notes, and a few well-chosen words in writing, which, as becomes so princely a gesture, shall be framed and hung in a prominent place in the new Club premises."
Roddy could have shouted for joy at the supreme audacity of it. The blackmailers blackmailed. Gould anything have been more appropriate, or anyone capable of suggesting it but Simon B. Peck? At the same time he noted tho danger signals flaming in Armstrong's face. Yes, evidently Peck too was-expecting it. He was deliberately working for it. His eyes were glittering as Roddy had never seen them glitter—with fever excitement. a hunger almost. It seemed to endue him suddenly with uncanny power. “I am waiting for your answer," he said in a scarcely audible voice that shook slightly. Then, out of that moment of ominous calm, the storm broke. Armstrong sprang to his feet and, roaring incoherent rage, rushed at Peck with murder flaming in his eyes. If his big red hands had once met around Peck’s throat nothing could have torn them apart. But Roddy w ! as ready, glorying in the chance of action, and Colonel Gretton was not far behind. He made no attempt to ward off Roddy's blow. it. caught him full between the eyes, and staggered him to a halt. And swiftly Roddy followed up with a terriflc hook to the jaw. Armstrong lost his balance, stumbled over a chair and fell heavily, striking his head against the stone kerb. He lay still. The light, however, was not quite over. Vera avas struggling like a fury in Doggart’s grasp, and it might have gone ill with his face if Colonel Gretton had not come to the rescue. He. laid his hand on her shoulder firmly but without roughness. “Come,” he said, “it is no use struggling.” She saw It was hopeless. The tight went out of her. She flopped into a ch3lr and dropped her dishevelled head in her hands.
'ln the meanwhile Roddy had assisted Peck to drag Armstrong’s inanimate form on to the settee, after binding his hands behind his back and his feet together. "He will soon come round," said Peck. "Throw a little water over him. I want him to see our point of view; our point of view and Mrs Gretton’s point, of view. It is a pity that my fastidious scruples prevent me- from trying it on the female of the species."
He hurried from the room and was back a moment later with a bottle in his hand and a sponge, which he was gingerly slipping into his pocket. Colonel Gretton watched the scene with detatched interest. Armstrong groaning hack to consciousness; Roddy waiting there tensely, undecided, a little horrified; Peck with a gleam of something inhuman in his eyes..
“Good," breathed Peck as Armstrong became sensible to the situation. " With a quick leap lie sat himself astride Armstrong’s chest and held the bottle raised above his face. Now he drew the stopper out, and Armstrong saw the fearful thing above him and blanched. "I would not struggle if I« were you,” advised Peck. "It might go in your eyes." “No! For God’s sake,” pleaded Armstrong huskily. "I’ll do anything. You won't you won’t. . . . God in Heaven ”
His words ended in a. scream of terror for Peck had slowly tilted the bottle. A large drop hung viscously at its lip. Roddy cried out —the play had gone far enough. But his cry was drowned in a wild shriek of anguish from Armstrong as the drop of vitriol fell on his forehead and began instantaneously to eat info his flesh.
“Dear me,” quoth Peck, with the detached interest of a. scientific observer. "How quickly it works!" Then swiftly he wiped the spot & wav with his sponge soaked in ammonia. “Shall we give him another to make sure?"
“No, no, no I” cried Armstrong in pitiable terror. “You can have all you want. The money is in my bag.” “So I surmised,” said Peck. “Chester will you bring it in.” Ho replaced the stopper in the bottle and, climbing down, placed it on the mantelshelf: Next he made Armstrong roll over while he untied his hands and thrust forward a foun-tain-pen. And Armstrong took it liko a lamb. “I foresaw the possibility of argument,” said Pock blandly. “And here is the note I dratted ready for the occasion. Shall I read it to you? “ ‘I have much pleasure In making thi S donation of £SOO to the Crime Key Circle in token of my sincere esteem and respect.’ “It requires only your signature. Armstrong signed. Roddy, who had been rummaging
Instalment 26.
CHAPTER NXXII,
(To be continued.)
in the Gladstone bag now gave a whoop of triumph. On the table beside it lay his discoveries —Mrs Gretton’s jewellery in a, glittering heap, ten bundles of bank notes, and the diary which had been the cause of all the trouble. This latter Colonel Gretton seized upon at once. “Mine, I think,” he challenged.
“Burn it," said Peck, and began to count the money. One small bundle of crisp notes he handed to Colonel Gretton and the other he placed in his pocket. The remaining packets he replaoed in the bag. lie carried it over to Armstrong and placed it in his hands.
“Undo his legs, Doggart,” he said quietly. “Now, John Smith—both of you—you may go. And go quickly before I am tempted to take full payment. Doggart, see them to the door and release Hallows.” Peck’s injunction to hurry was not needed. Within ten minutes Armstrong and Vera, followed by Hallows, silently passed through the front door and made for their car. Colonel Gretton had taken Peck’s arm, and together they went to sec ■how Pat fared.
“She’s sleeping peacefully,” said Roddy. “We’ll carry her home,” Colonel Gretton turned to Peck. “Do you know, I could almost find 1t in my heart to wish you had not let that precious pair go. What mercy had they? They killed Clare—they did their best to ruin my life." “I know it,” said Peck. “I entirely agree with you, except on one point.” “And that is?”
“That by this time Inspector Brand, who was waiting in the car with his men, will have clapped the handcuffs on them.”
Colonel Gretton was completely taken aback. Then he squared his shoulders and gave a short laugh. “Well, I'll stand my trial. It is worth it.” “There will be no need,” said Peck, beaming at him. “Your name is entirely cleared." He skipped away suddenly ■to the door, calling for Doggart. “Good gracious me!” he exclaimed, “I had quite forgotten that poor girl. Lena is in the house, somewhere. Find her, will you, Doggart?"
And Doggart needed no second bidding.
Colonel Gretton and Peck led the procession home along the dark Cliff Road to Greyscar. Close behind came Roddy carrying the inert form of Pat, and at some distance followed Lena and Doggart. Roddy could hear Lena talking excitedly—she seemed to be either laughing or crying, perhaps a little of both. But he heard as in a dreairf. Every nerve and fibre' in him thrilled and tingled: his brain sang a delirious song. Pat was safe; this was Pat, really Pat, all her sweetness so near to him, a strand of her hair touching his face. Pal woke. It may have been the involuntary tightening of his clasp or the motion of walking. Roddy felt her suddenly stiffen and whipsered reassuringly: “It’s all right, Pat. It’s me, Roddy.” “Roddy.” She must still be dreaming, her voice was so low, so blissfully content.
But no, one arm crept up his shoulder —for support perhaps. Then why did her hand move on, her lingers touch, caress his cheek Roddy stood stock still. What matters it, whether his overmastering emotion was the first to break loose, or whether the convulsive leap of Pat’s arms round his neck preceded it? The nett result was the same, and it was no pal's kiss! That ll'rst soul-disturbing kiss! Even Roddy was startled at the fierce wild exultation. Pat, who did everything wholeheartedly—he might have known she would love like this, passionately, with her whole being. Beyond a husky "Pat,” from Roddy,' and her choked little cry, “Roddy,” they spoke not a word. She might have walked, hut Roddy had no thought of giving up his precious burden. And so they came home to Rachel, a Rachel .with radiant shining eyes, who could have danced and shouted and cried and laughed, hut who, in the practical reeds of the moment would allow herself no such luxury.
She took charge of Pat at once and hustled her off to bed, there to minister to her comfort, while the men folk gave their whole-hearted attention to the refreshment of the inner man, and blessed Rachel’s optimism and foresight. Not by a single word or gesture did Colonel Gretton betray his eager impatience to hear the truth behind Peck’s simple assertion that lie had no longer anything to fear. He was the perfect host, absorbed only in entertaining his guests. It was Pock who made the first reference to the cloud of mystery, and tragedy which had hung so low over Greysear, and his opening was characteristically direct. “It will be my everlasting regret, Colonel,” he said, “that Mrs Gretton is not. with us to-night. If only I hail foreseen—but then 1 did not. Forgive me.”
11. was so simply spoken, with such genuine humility, that Roddy could hardly believe this was the complacent, aggravating little man lie knew Peck to be. “Yes," said Gretton, and his kindly eyes were grave and full of pity. “We never 'pretended. Clare and I, to—to have very much in common. But 1 would rather have been tried and sentenced than have bad that happen.” They rose as one man, and Gretton ushered them into his study. Rachel presently joined them. Gretton took liis place beside her. Their hands met and elapsed in silent understanding—a deep thankfulness and more that could never, be spoken in words. “Forgive my impatience,” said Gretton, smiling across at Simon Peck. “My name is cleared, you say. I can hardly believe it possible—3fter all these years. To be candid, I don't even know myself whether 1 killed Sydney llarrup or not.”
Permanent link to this item
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Bibliographic details
Manawatu Times, Volume 59, Issue 221, 21 September 1934, Page 9
Word Count
1,946"John Smith-Blackmailer" Manawatu Times, Volume 59, Issue 221, 21 September 1934, Page 9
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