“VAMPIRE OF THE SKIES”

Manawatu Times, Volume 60, Issue 196, 21 August 1935, Page 7

“VAMPIRE OF THE SKIES”

(By JAMES CORBETT)

I should certainly know that woman again. We did not see her again that night, but I would be able to recognise her anywhere. She did strike me as being rather peculiar, although I did not pay much attention at the time. She wore a dark green dress, I remember, a rather funny shaped hat, and a small black veil stopping short at the nose. She was rather tall, and walked very slowly.” Dacre rose to his feet. “If you can recognise that woman,” he said gravely, “you will do me a tremendous favour, Miss Brookes. New listen, please, to this suggestion. When you want to gel hold of me, go direct to the nearest policeslation, and you will soon discover where 1 am to he found. I may stay to-night at Claridge’s Hotel, Weymouth, and to-morrow 1 may put up at the ‘White Hart’ Hotel, Cottingdr.le. if you run "“across that woman any day this week try and follow her to her destination, get hold of her address at all cost, and ask the police to help you in your task. Then, when you have made that discovery, get in touch wilh me at once. Do you understand ?” “Perfectly, Mr Dacre,” the girl replied with great fervour, “J will certainly do as you ask, I won-’t go near the factory this week,’ I will spend every day looking for that woman, I believe I have seen her about the Esplanade once or twice—not since Friday, of course—but I may run across her again, and I will watch where she goes, 1 will follow her for miles, " Lena intervened at that instant, “And I am going to help you in your task,” she said with a wonderful smile. “Leave Miss Brookes in my care, Dacre. She and I will arrange to meet eacli other, and if she can point that woman out to me I will see that she is followed w r bile my friend here gets hold of a constable, Do I understand you wish the woman detained until yoll arrive at the station?” Dacre shook his head, “ Try and leave the constable out of it, ” lie counter-stiggested, “What T want is the address of the woman, bul if that is impossible to obtain then you may ask the police lo detain her, You see, I want lo spring a surprise, Recollect also that the woman may lie perfectly genuine, but I have 1 a suspicion that something is wrong. Rulh Henderson would not have been gulled by a man, but she might have been deceived by a woman, and that makes all the difference. ” Mary Brookes sank back in the ; nearest chair.

The tears came again in a mighty torrent. Dacre, ever human, spoke to Lena. “Stay with her a little and make your plans, ” he suggesled. “ That idea of yours is excellent, Miss Somerlon, and when you want me you know where I am lo be found. ” Lena gave him a bright smile. “Mv dear man,” she answered, don't think you are going to steal a march on me in that fashion. I will do is you ask with pleasure, but as there vvas.no law in England to prevent me sleeping overnight at the 1 While Hart ’ L'oltingdale, all the brilliant detectives in the world won’t prevent me slaying at Claridge’s Hotel, Weymouth. That is where I am going to dine to-night, friend Dacre, and you will find my name in the hotel register, also the number of my room if you want to treat me to dinner." CHAPTER XIII The miracle really happened. Lena dined that night at Claridge’s Hotel, Weymouth. As usual she looked incomparably lovely. “Now, look here, young lady,” Dacre cautioned, “I want to pul you wise about one or two points. You have heard me speak of M, Gambon, Hie distinguished member of the French Suretc! Well, I am expecting him lo reach this hotel at any moment. He. is supposed to be staying here on holiday, but I rather fancy lie has other fish to fry !" ‘You mean ho is hunting down seme criminal?”

< “I mean nothing for the present, hut, you need not run away when iie does come. You will find him a volcanic personage, and I am not sure whether you will like him. He has no respect for man, woman, or beast. But his status in Paris cannot be Ignored, and I find it best to humour him. Ho has manifested an interest in this case, and this second crime must have given him another thrill. I am anxious In hear Ills observations, hut say nothing lo him about the mystery woman, Major Hardy, or .the girl Mary Brookes. To do that, you sec, might upset rny plans.” Lena gave a radiant smile. Flic quite understood. Professional jealousy, of course. ‘‘Thanks for the hint, Dacre,” she declared. “I simply adore Frenchmen, however, so if (lie great Monsicr (lamhon deigns to notice a poor girl journalist, 1 may fall in love with im at first sight. Yes. you mentioned Ihe famous Frenchman, and so did P.C. Gullcridge, with words I am not likely to forget. I fear Gutteridge does not like your, French colleague, my friend. Indeed, he went so far as tn declare him an ass. He even hinteci that M. Garnhon has escaped from a French lunatic asylum, and I have promised to make some enquiry in that respect. Poor Old Gutteridge. He gave me a headache laughing, and in the end ho offered me a nip of brandy. Dacre smiled. The dinner was proving a success. He felt distinctly pleased. Gutteridge is a man Dickens would have immortalised,” Dacre observed. “As. regards M. Gambon, I fear be is not to be despised. Between ourselves I am not overwhelmed with ills personality, but I never forget that French word ‘diplomatique.’ You see, I am indebted to the SurCte for many favours, 'and one must be polite to its members. ■ By the way, I have got' in touch with -the Weymouth Police Superintendent, and have circulated a description of the . mystery woman who. .spoke to ftutlv Henderson. I have also ’phoned the Same message to the Yard-, and hope my efforts will have some definite result. I want to get, on the track of that individual.” Lena burst into another laugh. “Yes, you always did hate women," she reminded him,” and now that particular individual will he first on

Instalment 20.

Hie list. Supposing, my friend, she ,was really a woman?” "In that case,” he answered with a i smile, “there would be rational ground for my hate.” The dining-room was crowded._ An orchestra played faintly in a distant corner. Jt was a warm August evening, and everyone seemed in gay spirits. “What time do you meet Miss Brookes?” “At nine o’clock to-night,” Lena replied. “We will see each other at the Esplanade end of the Pier, and stroll about for an hour. We will continue these walks for a few evenings, and if luck comes our way you will have a ’phono message without delay. I will also move about Weymouth alone, picking up any information I can about flying men—and at Hie end of the week T will send you in a bill for one thousand guineas. Is that correct. Big Boy ” Dacre ordered a special bottle of champagne. He was impressed by those Mediterranean blue eyes. Lena SnmertOn certainly deserved a good meal. "1 realise you are a very tantalising Circe," he muttered, “but I see you also know your job, and that always appeals to me. Your reward will be a tremendous scoop for the Sentinel, and I.will see that you are privileged. But you must not try to vamp me. I promise to resist all your efforts — even after I have tasted this champagne . . . Miss Somerton, a toast to your eyes! They are far too dangerous for man’s comfort, but nevertheless, I drink to them." Lena’s laugh was infectious.. She was thrilled by the romance of this dinner. And how she hated this man. “I think you are an angel for being so kind to me,”, she half whispered. “M. Gambon, Trevor Holmes, and P.C. Gutteridge can go to the devil. I raise my glass to you, Big Boy. and wish you all success in this thrilling case. But remember, I am your real mystery woman, and I shall never be caught." They laughed uproariously together. Bolh were trying to banish . the 'horror of the morning. And Dacre proved himself a perfect host. “By the way, Lena, yes. I am going to use your Christian name at, odd intervals—don’t, for heaven’s sake, mention this mystery woman to Fleet, Street, or any member of the Press

Association.” ( Lena smiled back into his eyes. The champagne coursed through her young blood. She was feeling deliciously happy. “Don’t write me down a chump,” she begged. “Good Lord, I do possess three grains of grey matter. Why should you accuse me of stupidity? If you want the truth, I have simply phoned my interviews with Murray, Gutteridge, and the girl Rrookes. But your mystery woman 1 keep in reserve. No need to warn her in advance. T think that is your little game. Kindly pour me out another glass of that sparkling liquid—and then you may kiss me if you think no one is looking." Dacre complied with (he first request.. The temptation to carry out the second was appalling. But he conquered. After coffee was served, they strolled out to the lounge for a cigarette. They found rather a convenient little alcove, and had just commenced a rather intimate chat when Satan entered in the guise of M. Gambon. “Mon Dieu,” he exclaimed,l have been hunting for you everywhere, i Forgive my intrusion, Dacre, but the manager told me you wanted lo see me the moment I arrived. I have ; been enjoying a quiet game of golf i on the links, had a snack of dinner at, a friend’s house, and have just got back this instant. Now what have you got to say to me? What fresh developments have occurred, and how 'is the gentleman who suffers from bay fever? I mean P.C. Gutteridge.”

He was staring at Lena with undisguised admiration, and Dacre rose and performed the necessary introduction. The Frenchman bent low over the girl's hand, then took a seat opposite. “Miss Somerton is on the staff of the Sentinel,” Dacre added with a smile, “so anything you say, Gambon, she may use in writing against you. Be careful of these lady journalists. They always get the last word, and Ihen they publish ii. . . Well, J have news for you. I almost thought you would have heard about if. There has been a srond crime. . .” The Frenchman paused in the act of lighting a cigarette. His blue eyes grew round with amazement. He gazed at Dacre with something like horror. “Whatl" he exclaimed. “Have you been drinking, my friend? Are you telling me there has been another murder—a. second body flung from an airplane?” Dacre nodded. “Nothing less lhan that,” lie sighed. “It occurred this morning afler breakfast, and it, completely spoilt my lunch, for I saw the last, part of the tragedy with my own eyes. So did Miss Somerton, which proves that you will have to stop poking fun at poor Gutteridge. He deserves a medal and ar. illuminated address." The Frenchman gasped. He was trying hard to express his profound consternation. Ills blue eyes stared. “But, Mon Dieu,” lie protested, “this thing has no precedent in history. Why, even in the war days, Dacre, we did not hurl human bodies out of airplanes! In all rny career there has been nothing like ii. And in the Cottingdale area! What Hie devil is the meaning of it? Yes, I will apologise to Gutteridge on my knees. I will even subscribe to a wreath* at his funeral. He has become famous for all time, and to-morrow they will be writing about him in the Figaro! While your London papers —! TienS, they will be ghastly during the next few days. Dacre, I offer you unprofessional sympathy. You are faced with the perfect crime. Not a pointer, not, a solution, not a finger-mark! Is it not so?" Lena had only uttered a fe\v words. She was keeping strangely quiet.