HELD IN RANSOM.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXII, Issue 19125, 17 September 1925, Page 5

HELD IN RANSOM.

BY GEEALD CUMBERLAND. Author of "Ho Cyptew Chest- -Set Dewu in M»lice," " Tbo Poisoner," Eta.. Etc.

(Copyright.) CHAPTER HX—(Continued). As he slit open a linen envelope, » ring tolled out oq to the counterpane. It was Audrey's ring—tb6 ring he had given her on their engagement. Seeing it so suddenly, lying there before him, he was almost stunned; it was like a voice shouting to hiin from the mysterious unknown. He picked it up and examined it. Yes-: it was Audrey's. It was the ring that he and she both kissed so (reverently,' yet so ardently, that night when he had shown it to her for the first time and had placed it on her finger. From the envelope ho drew forth a typowritten letter. With feverish haste he oread it. " The enclosed ring is sent to you as a proof that its owner, Miss Audrey Stansmore, is for the,, time being in my possession. She will remain so "until you obey the commands laid down in this letter. If you refuso to obey them, means will be taken to compel you to do so. You, yourself, will not be hurt, but someone dearer than yourself will be terribly and irredeemably injured. Moreover, proof of this injury will immediately bo given you. On Wednesday, May 23, you will present yourself at the North-East corner of the Place de l'Opera, Paris, at 11 p.m. You will bring with you £IO,OOO (ten thousand pounds) in gold. Precisely at two minutes past eleven a taxicab will drive up to you. You will enter the cab alone, without a single word to (he driver whoiwill take you to a place whore the money can be handed over safely. Within twenty-four hours after payment Miss Audrey Stanamoro will be delivered, unharmed, at her uncle's house in Pont Street. After reading this letter, your first impulse will be to give it to the police. You are, therefore, gravely warned against taking so perilous a step—perilous to Miss Stansmore. Be sure that everything you do is known to me. You are carefully watched, and every eventuality has been provided against. Moreover, this is the only chance that will be offered to you. If you neglect to take advantage of it, yoa will regret it till the end of your days." This letter was without date, address oi signature. The envelope bore the postmark of Paddington. Frank's rapid eyes devoured its contents in a minute. Having read it he smiled—smiled with something approaching triumph. Then, more , slowly, ht read it a second time. He smiled again. He was almost happy. At the moment ol waking, his face had been palo and worn: now ii was lit up by hope, by the prospect of immediate action. At last there was something he could do! Yes—he would go to Paris! Hs would keep 'the appointment made for him in the letted. But he would take no gold—not he! His boxes should be filled with lead, and in his pocket he would carry an automatic pistol. Straight into this criminal den would he go and face the consequences, Before dressing, he telephoned Stans more at Pont Street, asking him to com< over to Fountain Court as soon as possible While in his bath, Frank devised anc elaborated what seemed to him a wonder ful plan for outwitting the gang of pro fessional thugs. It was a gang, of course No single individual could, unaided, carr out so daring and complicated a piece o devilry. But Frank was confident o success. This sudden release from inactivity this splendid chance of rescuing Audrej from the clutches of her captors, raiset his spirits so high that he could almop have sung aloud for happiness. But- tin thought of Audrey, wretched, sufferini and perhaps hopeless, sobered him. Yet so great was his faith in himself, and ii the plain he had devised, that he fel (Confident that in a week's thrie his sweet heart would be safely restored to him. He had only just finished bre&fcfas when Stansmore arrived. He burst int< Frank's room: with impetuosity. " Well, my dear boy—what has hap pened V For answer Frank handed him the type-written letter. The older man reac it with clouded brow. " The unspeakable hounds!" he ex claimed, his hands shaking, his cheek! ashen. " What vileness! What depth o: infamy!** , " Yes, pretty low down, Uncle Peter, But bur enemies have now delivered them selves into our hands." " What on earth do you mean, Frank." " Listen. I'm going to Paris. I'm go ing to keep that appointment." 7 ' Yes. It's the wisest thing after all. I'll get you the money. I) daresay I cat unload £IO,OOO in a couple of days."; "You won't unload a penny! Nol likely! I've toldyou I'm going to lieef the appointment in the Place de l'Opera. but I ve said nothing about paying ovei a single penny. No—that's not my way. We're going to fight these devils, tJncu Peter—fight them without mercy." " But the danger, Frank—the dangei to Audrey." ) -•<' " There will be no danger to Audrey. Sit down and be patient.while I tell yon of my scheme." Stansmore, bewi'dered arid upset, sani into an easy chair, but he made a gesture of refusal as Frank offered him a cigar. " I'll smoke it later, Frank. Now tel! me, what is in your mmd—quickly." " Well, I'm going to give myself up as a prisoner. In this way. As I've raid, I shall go to the North East corner o the Place de l'Opera, Paris, at eloveii o'clock next Wednesday night and I shaL take with me baggage weighted witfc lead. I shall enter the cab and be driven off to the ' place' spoken of in the letter. Without the slightest hesitation I shall walk into the house the cab stops at. There the boxes containing the lead weight will be opened and their true contents disclosed." KeNpaused a moment, dramatically. • "And then? What will happen then ?" " I shall, so to speak, be taken into custody. I shall be deprived of my liberty, kept a prisoner. And now comes the important point. My captors will take immediate step 3 to compel ma to disgorge the £IO,OOO. There is only one way in which they can do this with safety, and that is to force me to write to my bankers ordering them to sell out my stock and deliver the cash to me or my i representative in Paris. I shall at first pretend to resist them, though I, really intend to obey. At last, I shall give Jway and write to my bank manager. And in the letter I write, Uncle Peter, I shall by code reveal the address of the place where I am imprisoned." Frank looked at Stansmore with an aii of triumph, but Uncle Peter stared back at him uncomprehendingly. But I don t understand, boy." " Well, it's perfectly simple. I shall tell Scotland Yard and my bank what I am doing, and the moment my bank manager receives my letter, he will deliver it to the police. The police will decode it, " read my secret message, discover where I amy and steps to break in and arrest the criminals." " It sounds all right; Frank; but there are many difficulties in the way. First of all, you will be taken in the cab to your destination in the dark. How Will you then know the address at which you are kept prisoner?" " You forget, Uncle Peter, that I know Paris even better than I know London. I've lived there for two years, and during those two years I indulged my passion for topography. There's not a single district of Paris that I don't know as well as I know Chelsea." Yes —but suppose you are driven right into the suburbs?" " Well, we can suppose anything you like. There are risks in every scheme. Bui criminals don't, as a rule, carry, out their nefarious work in the suburbs," " No—you're right there. But what about the code?" , , "I've not worked it out yet but Tve thought of the basis of it. It's perfectly simple—ahd the simpler the code, the more difficult it is to decipher. While I

few ideas Hero tboy are.^' Ho handed Stansmore a sheet of paper covered with not-os. From these, it appeared that tiw "letter t Ofrcwed nigh up ; represented »; 'i crossed in the middi* represented b 5 the same letter crceaed low down was c; a Greek e stood for d? an ordinary e for e; and so on." "You see?" asked Frank. "I shall complete my code ti-day, and work at it until I can write it as quickly as ordinary writing. You see, the great advantage of it is thai my letter will appear perfectly innocent—absolutely above all suspicion." As Prank talked, Stansmore became more and more impressed by the soundness of the young man's entire plan, and at the end of ten minutes ho was completely won over. - " Cievei boy, very clever. And if anyone can carry it through, you can. I've only two objections. One is—suppose those brutes murder you?" Frank laughed. " That's the last thing they'll do. Not even an idiot would kul the goose that may lay the golden eggs. So long as there's the least chance of my disgorging the monoy, they'll keep mo alive and moderately well. What is your second objection ?" ' They may torture Audrey.** " Why T For wliat- purpose ?" "In order to force you to write the letter." " But I shall be careful not to carry any resistance as far as that. I can't consent to write the letter straight away, for if I did so my readiness would merely excite their suspicions. I shall feci my way, and if they threaten to ill-treali Audrey, I shall give in at once." "Yes I see. It's sound, Frank—perfectly sound. There's a risk, of course, but you seem to have reduced it to a minimum. When are you going to disclose your plan to Scotland Yard ?" " I shan t call at all, for—l'm convinced that Scotland Yard is under continual observation. I shall telephone superintendent Brill this evening—ho dctean't come on duty till six—an.; arrange a meeting in Hyde Park. And, in order to prevent my being shadowed, I shall order a taxi here and in the thick of the traffic in Piccadilly, contrive to elude anyone who may be following me. I know a driver I can trust to accomplish that." Half-an-hour later, Stansmore left Fountain Court much easier in his mind that he had been sincfe his niece's disappearance. Something, at least, was going to be done, and though he had a real and sincere affection for Frank, he was quite ready to risk even his death if there was a chance of Audrey boing restored safety. Loft alone, Frank worked hard for half-an-hour at the telephone, arranging with his various editors for other men to do his work during t!;ie next fortnight. Ho was, he explained, in need of & nolidajs. Then he set himself to elaborating his code and practising it. By six o'clock ha had mastered it so completely that he was able to incorporate it into his ordinary writing without hesitation. When, in the evening, Frauk mot Superintendent- Brill, he found him dilff cult to convince of the- sbundness of hie plan for outwitting the gang of thugs and blackmailers wno were holding Audrey in ransom. Brill listened, both with ;i; politeness and patience, to Frank, he ■■ unfolded his scheme in its utmost detail, but at the end of the recital he shook his head gravely. I'- . " You undor-rate the cleverness of these people, Mr. Mitchell. You are up against a very brainy gang. What yon propose to do sounds all right, but in practice you'll find it a thousand times more difficult than you imagine.' " Welly I've thought the whole, matter over—l've had a whole day to do it in—and whether yon consent to help'me or not, I'm determined to carry it through- '* ' Of course ye can't prevent you from doing what you propose, but yon must fully understand that yon are completely' and solely responsible for anything that may happen to you. If you call for our help, you shall, of course, have it.' In the meantime you can explain your code to; ; lnssebtatf(G6aven." .-.yw/ ' It was with a feeling both of relief and impatience that Frank returned to his rooms—relief, that at last be was about to engross himself entirely in saving Audrey; impatience, that five days had yet to pass before the appointment at the . Place do I*Opera: coula take On Monday he would go to Pans. Was if Audrey there?—or was she in London, perhaps within hailing distance Z Who could say ? But as, that night, he mused over ihe future and its possibilities, he was far from touching, in his imagination, even the fringe of the strange curtain of evwnta that was so soon to -overshadow him. He divined nothing of the wild, savage love that already was awakened m the .heart of one of the most adventurous and romantic women in Europe. CHAPTKE IV. At the end of May, Paris is the most desirable place in the world. Laughter and happiness are in the air by day ana at night tjiere are the 'romance and glamour of opalescent 'skies, of music »nd song, of a myriad lights, decking the boulevards and the river banks like jewels. But Frank Mitchell was in no mood to enjoy any of the pleasures of that wonderful city. There was serious work b> fore him. He was fcrepared for anything, Seated in the Winter garden of the hotel Beaumarchais, enjoying a coffee and cigarette, he was finishing a letter to St&nsmore. " In an hour from now," he wrote, *'l shall bo at, the appointed place;■ in two hours I shall be in the lions den. If you I don't hear from me in a week 8 time, ;! or even longer, don't get anxious. For of f one thing I am certam—l can take care j; of myself. It* is possible that by midnight I may even see Audrey. Perhap# in the next forty-eight hours you als<; may ~ sea her." f f * He signed his name with a flourish, pat the letter in its envelope, which ho sealed and stamped, and walked across the winter garden to the great entrance ML Near the lottej-box was standing a lude-jaundiced-faced man who, at Franks approach, moved quickly away. Frank smiled to himself, and, hesitating a m, ment before he slipped the letter into the box, quickly made a resolution. He followed the jaundiced-faced man, who had seated himself under an enormous palm, and sat down by his side. _ me," he said, ..but may I ask if you ara now to thw kind of work . v "I beg your pardon 1 I think you've made a mistake." „ . " No, I am not mistaken. You Know me well" • ' , " But, I assure you, I have no rccollection of our Aeeting. You know mi! ?' " Not nearly so well as I should like to." " You flatter me." " Not in the least. It is only natural I should wish to know more of a man who is as interested in my movements as you are. Yesterday you travelled by the same train as I did from London to Folkestone. You, so to speak, accompanied me from Folkestone to Dieppe, Dieppe to Paris. And you not only honour me by staying at the same hotel, but you secure the next room tc* mine. Moreover, throughout the whole of today you have shadowed me." "Yes? And if I hav&—what th«-n ? " Well, I've become interested in you. And I thought yon might like to k;ow that your methods of observatson are very clumsy. When keeping a man tu.dor observation it is essential that one; should not be observed oneself. In that ropect you have failed lamentably." "That is a matter of compete urfufference to mo, Mr. Mil-che! 1. It is cient that I have kept yeu under observation." Frank smiled. „ :~» " You are very candid, Mr. Pervov&L " Ah—you found out my name in the viators' book ? >f I was told you hud asked t0 ' 'Does" our friendship—you me to caU it friendship, ! bope^oe»» at eleven this evening. "It does, air. Mitchell. Once I you safely into the cab m the fOpera, my duties are over"'U (To be ontteni A