HELD IN RANSOM.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXII, Issue 19124, 16 September 1925, Page 7

HELD IN RANSOM.

BY GERALD CUMBERLAND.

Author of " The Cypress Chest," " Set Down in Malice," '* The Poisoner. "* Etc.. Etc. (Copyright.) SYNOPSIS. Frank Mitchell is called on to the stage to make a speech by a delighted audience, at the success ot his first; play, " The Magic Circle." Pomeroy. the actor, and Mansfield, the manager of the Georgian Theatre, congratulate him. He longs to get to the bos where Audrey Stansmore is waiting for him, - with her uncle, Peter. Ralph Kolstock, the New York millionaire-owner of three theatres in New York, and two in Chicago, makes an appointment with him. Peter Stansmore and his niece are* excited over Prank's success. Frank and Audrey discuss their future home. James Bradshaw. Frank's man, tells him of the telephono message from the Princess Warenski. Mitchell rings her up. It is a hall-hour after midnight. She makes anappointment for ten minutes' time, and arrives duly. They discuss "The Magic Circle" and success | generally. She asks him to dine with her at. tho Ritz. Although he has an engage■toent with Audrey she prevails-on him to break it. It is to her interest to be soen with him. Frank Mitchell communicates with his sweetheart, puts her off for tho evening oil account of an engagement, but says he will bo round at. Pont Street by nine. tho eulogistic- notices of his play. Ralph Kolstock calls on him. They discuss business.' Frank betakes himself to dine with the Princess. Thoy are, conspicuously placed at table. While the clock is striking eight she looks round and tells her companion that tho person who wished to see them together has already dono so. On leaving the Princess Frank taxies to Pont Street, only to find that Audrey has flown. Uncle Poter tells him that Audrey has had a telegram, presumably from her sweetheart, and in accordance therewith has gone off to dine with him at the Savoy. Thoy are mystified. Frank_ fells Peter Stansmore of the Princess Warenski episode. Instinctively they connect the disappearance of Andrey with that. Peter goes to Scotland Yard while Frank goes to the ± rincoiss. This lady expresses shocked astonishment at the telegram incident, and declares he must communicate with Scotland, Y ar d. This disabuses his mind of all suspicion so far as the Princess is concerned. fy CHAPTER 111. There was silence for a fow moments. Ho did not know how to begin—liow to broach the subject that was so urgent. She noticed his embarrassment, and her eyes, so intelligent and candid, questioned him mockingly, "Something -is troubling you, Mr. Mi-chelle—is it not so ? Something besides tho loss of your cigarette case." . "Yes. How did you guess?" ;"You look anxious—terribly anxious." "Well—yes. But I don't see why I should burden you with my troubles. Still, if I may, lot me tell you. The girl to whom I am engaged—Miss Audrey Stansmore —has disappeared— mysteriously. A forged telegram was sent to her in my name asking her to meet me at the Savoy." "But that is very serious, Mr. Michelle. ■ A forged telegram; you say?" Her interest and concern were manifest; but her concern did not go deep enough to signify guilt; it was tlio polite sympathy of an acquaintance. "It is not possible that someone has jplayed a practical joke upon you and . "Quite impossible. Miss Stansmore does not know people capable of such silliness." The Princess rose and -went over to her desk near tho window. She took therefrom a telephone directory and handed it to Frank. "You must communicate at once with Scotland Yard, Mr. Mi-chelle. Your friend has been abducted. You must not lose a single instant. Forgive mo if I say I know more of the world than you, '-I. am a cosmopolitan—l . have, seen many sides of life. And I know something of the dangers of London in these times. Let mo entreat you to telephone now." No longer did he. suspect her. It was impossible. No actress in the world, however great her genius, could behave so naturally if she were guilty. And no woman, with crime on her conscience, would run like this, straight into the jaws of the police. Scotland Yard is never taken by surprise. Nothing can disturb the seeming impassiveness of its officials., Not an hour passes but news of some fresh crime reaches the cool, silent headquarters of the London police. So when, shortly before half-past ten that night, Frank, clothed in evening dress and tense with excitement, rushed into the enquiry office, the official who ' received him betrayed no sign of unusual interest. - Uncle Peter Was waiting there for him. "I've reported nothing yet, Frank. I thought it much wiser to wait for your arrival." "I've a crime to report," said Frank to the constable on duty, " a terrible crime. There's not a moment to be lost." • "Very good, sir. I will send your name up. , Perhaps you will write it down." " i . Frank wrote his name on the slip provided, chafing at this slight delay. But before he had finished writing, a policeman had already appeared;, he .took the paper from Frank, turned away smartly, and disappeared. i Peter Stansmore stepped up to Frank, and in* a low voice inquired: "Well? Do you still suspect her?" "I'm dashed if I know what to do. No—l don't suspect her, I can't. Her whole attitude and manner—her very voice—suggested not only innocence, but ignorance. She knows nothing whatever about the affair. I'm sure of it. As soon as I told her, she urgently advised me to report the matter to Scotland Yard. She would scarcely have done that if she were guilty." "I'm not so sure, Frank, A daring criming might easily do so in order to put you off the scent."

"But if you'd seen and heard her, .Uncle Peter, you'd " * He was interrupted "by the return of the policeman who had taken the slip of paper upstairs. "Will you please come this way. sir?" he asked, in a pleasant voice. His calm tone, so ordinary yet so assured, seemed to intimate that Frank's excitement was quite unnecessary; all would be right now that the affair had been put in the hands of the police. Frank and Stansmore were taken up the wide, shallop stono staircase to the first floor. The vast building seemed deserted. Everything was qiuet and still. 'But Scotland Yard never sleeps, and in many of the rooms clever brains were at work collating documents, piecirtg together one bit of evidence with another, and unravelling dozens of complicated mysteries.

Their guide stopped at a door, knocked upon it, paused a moment, and then turned the handle; he ushered the two men into a large room illuminated by electric light. "Mr. Frank Mitchell," he announced. Three second's later he had left the room and closed the door behipd Mm.

Beneath the window was a low platform, on this. was placed a large table behind which, facing the two visitors, were seated two officials, one of high rank, the other, his. secretary. The former, Superintendent Brill, was a tall, lean man of military bearing; his ctbsocropped grey hair revealed a shrill of noble proportions; his black eyes were shrewd but not unkindly. His whole aspect denoted a disciplined ascetism, a stern devotion to duty. His companion, a younger man, viras noticeable chiefly for his air of self-effacement. "Please be seated, gentlemen," said Superintendent Brill. Frank and Stansmore seated themselves on the other side of the table facing the two officials. An electric light, depending from the ceiling, hung low, its brilliant rays shining full on to the faces of the two visitors; it was noticeable that Superintendent Brill and his companion were carefully shaded from the glare of the light. As FYank began to speak,, he noticed that the secretary, with quiet unobstrusiveness, commenced to take down in shorthand evesry work he uttered. BrflJ, his eyes closely scroti nisi ng Frank, remained silent wiaio- be iisteaed pataeofly

to the story that was logically unfolded to him. Not once, by even the slightest gesture or tho flicker of an eyelid, ' did ne bertay a more than professional interest in what he heaird. Occasionally, his gaze drifted from Frank's handsome, excited face, to the calmer countenance of Stansmore, and then down to the sheaf of papers that Jay before , ftTm; but it always returned to the speaker—a gaze of mild interest, considerate, polite. At length Frank reached the end of his recital.. As he did so, he turned to Stansmore. "Have I remembered everything ?'•' he asked. "Yes, I think so." Stansmore, leaning forward, placed before Superintendent Brill a photograph of his niece that he had brought with him—also tho fatal telegram and the note that Audrey had written him early that evening. But, apparently, Superintendent Briil was not interested in these documents. "Let me tell you at once, Mr. Mitchell, that you need have no suspicion of Princess Warenski. Iler visit to tho country is well-known to the Homo Office. She is, indeed, under police protection." "I felt certain sho was all right," said Frank, turning to Stansmora with nnusual eagernc&s. "In that case," said Stansmore, "tho mystery becomes all the darker." "'Yes," agreed Brill. "You haw 110 suspicion apart from tho Princess ?" "None whatever," answered Frank and Stansmore, simultaneously. "You have searched your memories thoroughly ?" "It's been such a shock," said Frank, "that I've scarcely been able to think at all. But nothing has occurred to me that seems to havo 'even tho remotest bearing on Miss Stansmore's disappearance." "And you, Mr. Stansmore? Excuse me, but I did not qui to catch your full namo when Mr. Mitchell mentioned it just now." I/ "Stansmore—F|otcr Stansmore." V- He paused a moment while the secretary wrote it down. "No, I can't think of anything either." " Very well, gentlemen. Tho Widest and most rigid enquiries shall be instituted at once. Tho disappearance of young girls in London and in our large towns is, of course, no unusual occurrence; it happens, indeed, ovory day.- For' that reason, we havo regular machinery: for their discovery. We have only, bq to speak, to touch a button, and that machinery is immediately sot working. If Miss Stansmore is to be found, bo.-Suro we shall find her. But before you. £ go, I have a few questions to ask you, Mr. Mitchell." " Very good," said Frank. " Toll mo—have you at any time; had reason to believe that you havo a .rival for Miss Stawnore's affections?" " Never." - " Not even a suspicion ?'* " No." Jr " And Miss Stansmora has a frank and opon nature ?" "As open as the day," " She has never acted, or spoko|i ; in such a manner as to make you suspect. she had something to conceal?" " No—never." • - 4 At this point Peter Stansmore stirr.'d himself, a little-uneasily. "Allow mo to interrupt," he said,;" I want to toll you that Miss Stansmore has lived with me since 'she was fouivVfor fourteen years. During tho whole of thai period I havo seen her daily, and I can say with all the authority of my experience of her that it is impossible to imagine a girl more innocent, more open and more honourable than sho is. She is incapable of deception." Superintendent Brill inclined his head in acquiescence. " Thank you, Mr. Stansmore. That information will narrow down our inquiries. And now, gentlemen, unless you have anything raoro to tell me, this interview must come to an end." Stansmore rose at once to his feet but Frank remained seated. Ho leaned forward, his face strained, his hands clenched. "Will yoii—can you tell me if you have any theory to account for—for Miss Stansmore's disappearance ?" ' "I'm sorry, Mr. Mitchell, but I have no theory. Or it is more correct to say I have a dozen theories. Ono can't build up even a workable theory without facts—and, in this case, the facts are so few." . " But she has been, enticed away 1" " Obviously. A But for what purpose ? who can say ? At present it is a mystery. That is why, Mr. Mitchell, you have come to us. Wo will, solve tho mystery for you.". < "I want to offer you my services." Superintendent Brill smiled. "In. what way J** _" In any way you like. Surely yon can give me something to do—something that will help you in your investigations?" " The best help yon can render us, Mr, Mitchell, is to go about your daily work as though nothing had occurred. If anything ixt tho least degree unusual happens to you, yon- will, of course, report the matter to us at onco. And we, on our side, will let'you know if we want any further information from you." With this assurance, Frank had to go away as contented as his anxiety would permit. He returned to Pont Street with Uncje Peter, and they sat up till the small hours discussing the problem from every possible point of view; but the more they discussed it, the more hopeless did its solution appear. Yet it'seemed better to talk, and put forward one conjecture after another, rather than do nothing. 3ut at the end of a it all, the young dramatist felt that nothing had been achieved, and it was with a heavy heart and an aching head that he left Staajmore's house, just as the sun was rising, and made his way to Bis flat in Fountain Court. Two days passed—days of terrible anxiety and aggravating inaction. Tb.e.re , were no developments. Nothing whatever happened. No doubt ihe police were busy making inquiries, not only in London but all over tho country. But that thought gave Frank little satisfaction. He hated his enforced idleness. He wanted to throw himself with all tho ardour of his being into the search for Audrey—for only by constant activity could he hope to dull the edge of the suffering that overpowered him. By a great effort he contrived to force himself to do his daily journalism, but he chafed bitterly when he called at Scotland Yard—as he frequently did—only to be told that the police had nothing to report. In tho meantime, Audrey's disappearance had been widely advertised in the newspapers. The circumstances of her being engaged to the author of " The Magic Circle" —already the talk of the town—ensured for her disappearance a publicity it would not otherwise have had. Both morning and evening journals printed her photographs, for Scotland Yard, as is sometimes their custom, had called in the aid of the Press in their search. It was a time of nightmare imaginings, of cruel hours that crept.by with bitter slowness. But on the morning of the third day something happened. James brought the morning's correspondence to his master's bedside at an early hour. ".Pull the curtains aside, James, and have my bath ready in tori! minutes." Left alone, Frank sat up in bed, snatched at his letters, and threw aside those envelopes whose handwriting he recognized. He had a keen, though vague, hope that something would reach him through tho post, concerning Audrey's fate. And his intuition told him it yrould come to him from some strange source. He was right. (To be continued daily.)