THE KILLERS

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXI, Issue 21934, 18 October 1934, Page 21

THE KILLERS

By LEONARD R GRIBBLE

CH A PTER XIX.—H'Coi itin ued > Just before he reached the end of the passage the light beyond went out. Ronald started, then breathed a sigh of relief as he realised that this would mean his pres.-nee would be kept a secret for a while longer. Standing still to listen, be could hear no sound of movement from the other side of the door. , Fifteen seconds later he had passed inside the room A heavy curtain shut . off Oise half of the apartment, and from the far side of the curtain sounded voices, and through a threadbare fold in it, he percened light streaming down on to lowered heads. The tones were hushed, and he caught the clink of glasses. A scheme flashed across his mind. Raising his automatic, he tiptoed across the remaining interval of the room that separated him from the curtain, until the nose of the gun touched the cloth. "Then, just as he was about to spring his surprise, he had a sickening sense that he had been out-tricked. There was a click of mel ai rings being drawn together, and then the curtain doubled up. smothering him in its folds." " . Wildly, desparately, he pulled the trigger of his automatic twice, but the only answer he was votichsafed f was a soft chuckle of triumph. Grigorni again! As he fell to the floor and rough hands seized him, he cursed the man and his cunning. His purpose was now only /too glaringly apparent; to outplay each skirmisher sent against him until he could, with safety, rush j the room where Maude and the others j remained. . j Ronald was extracted from the dusty i and mustv-smell'ng curtain, a gag was slipped round his head, and his hands j were tied behind him. Helpless, he : lay on the floor, glaring at his captor, ] who stood by smiling with devilish l enjoyment and holding up two fingers. ! "Two,' he was saying. "Two of these clever ones are now removed, j Ha! ha! ha!" ' { Almost, stilled by the gag, which was j secured wit}/ a tightness that made his i jaw ache, Ronald gazed round the ; room A man he had seen before—with \ Crane—stood behind Grigorni, his face < impassive. By the window sat j " Madame,' her glance inscrutable as ever. Of the man with the scarred j cheek there was no sign. Under the j window, its heavy lid thrown back, I was a large chest. Evidently this was what he bad heard being drawn across ! ' the floor. The curtain had been taken ! from it. I " And now you shall be disposed of once and lor all," continued Grigorni i suavely, his features, however, twitching nervously, indicative of the control j he was exerting upon himself. " And in j a manner that will —for the short spell j j of your life —never let you forget the , name of Karl Grigorni, and his method of dealing with meddlesome interfer —" He stopped short and looked beyond | where Konald was lying. Some one j j else had entered the room. Ronald j , «aw Grigorni nod,. Then he was lifted i ] by Grigorni and the man who stood ;

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A STORY OF THRILLS. ROMANCE AND ADVENTURE

behind biim, and between them carried him out of the room, along £ stone walled corridor, which smell i damp, into an apartment fitted up witl | benches, which were Jittered with ai odd assorirment of tqo'is and planks o thin wood. Ronald realised that he was in the " showroom " of the establishment, ostensibly the box-making room. He was seated in a chair, the gag removed, and in front of him stood Grigorni, menacing him with his own automatic. " One word uttered before I lower this weai>on, Sir. Blassington, and you'll never speak another." This time there was no boastful swagger 'to the words. They were uttered in grim, deadly earnest. The man's eyeis confirmed as much. Ronald swallowed hard, stretching his jaw to ease the pain in the nape of his neck. After a nod from Grigorni the other man left ihe room. Barely two minutes passed before a door at the lower end of the room opened to* admit the man with the scarred cheek, a police-seTgeant in uniform, and another man, whose bearing at once proclaimed him a policeofficer in plain clothes. The mitn with the scarred cheek pointed to Ronald and addressed the plain-clothes man. '• That'« hina, Inspector. Tried to shoot us when we closed on him, but my friend trijpped him up, and we made him fast. Is he the man I said 1 though)! he was? " he added with so me show of goggling interest. The police inspector gave the man a swift glance, istared for a moment at Grigorni, omitted Ronald from his scrutiny, iind then took a printed leaf® let from Ibis pocket. Advancing across the room he'held it out so that Ronald could read what it contained. The young man stared with bulging eyes, and suddenly bis heart was thumping burtfully. He was staring at a notice headed in large black type '* Wanted by the Police." Underneath this ominous heading was a passable photograph of himself, head and shoulders, and below he read with blearing eyes, a description olf the crime for which he was to be apprehended. " Murdered on . . . at the Monrarian Embassy, Cavendish Square, I«ondon . . Karl Grigorni, Ambassador of the Court of Kerstev to Great Britain. . . ." His gaze travelled back to the first words: " To be apprehended on the charge of having murdered OT) ." He closed his eyes. When he opened them the Inspector had returned the j notice to his jjwxrket and moved aside. | standing before birn was Grigorni, an j ugly smile of triumph on bis sallow : ace. " is thss a man you have been looking for? " he inquired as though the :hought had just occurred to him. " So your friend seems to think," mapped the police-officer, whose deep iiiowledge of that particular locality in lie East End had not grown out of oquacity where foreigners were concerned. His galie studied Ronald's face* " The Honourable Ronald Blassing;on," he said quietly, yet decisively, [ arrest you" for the murder of Karl jrigorni, and I warn you that anything ,-ou say will be taken down, and may lereafter be used as evidence against ron. Sergeant."

The sergeant istrode forward and took Ronald by the arm. Without a word the young man dazed and bewildered, rose and stood awaiting the plainclothes man's instructions. So this toi Grigomi's triumph! Handing him over to the police as a felon! Maude hud been careful to keep from him how far the'police had pro--1 gressed in their inquiries , . . Handj bills! ..." For the short spell of your 7 life —never let you forget the name of i. Karl Grigorni! " To be hanged for the murder of the man who had finally out- , witted him! With 110 defence . . .Kolletski and probably others to swear L against him . . . and how (sudden * thought) explain his disappearance these last two days? . . . that would tell against him—everything would tell against ... it was hopeless. "Inspector," he cried suddenly, " You've got to make a search of this place. There aire others here besides me—prisoners—and only then will you get the truth. Find them —you've got to. It's a matter of life and death. They've got to be rescued! " He paused, panting,, but the police officer's face was inscrutable. " If you are prepared to make a statement we'll take it down at the station. Otherwise I'm afraid—" Protest was useless. Ronald stumbled into step with the policeman. Behind him Grigorni stroked bis chin, and his lips curved in a derisive sneer. The man with the scarred cheek stood aside, his little eyes dancing, as the two policeofficers moved put of the room with their charge. Cold despair now settled on Ronald, j He had played practically his last card, and had been trumped. He had no resources left. By taking him to the station the ins;pector .was merely discharging his duty. There was no apparent reason why he should delay to investigate what sounded at best but a cock-and-bull sliory —and especially so j when he could return after his charge had been passed into safe custody. Yet the very fact that with his going all chance of outside help was terminating irked him. Surely there was, even now, some way in which he could convince—- " This way " The sergeant opened a door, and led him out into the night. Glancing round, he found himsellt in a small square yard, at the end of which ran a wall bordering on the street. A gate in the wall was opened They were half-way across the yard when "all three pulled up suddenly. From somewhere in the rear regions of the building they had just left came three revolver-shots. A flash lit Ronald's eyes. Maude's signal that the hour was up, and that he was going to try to get out himself. The Inspector nodded abruptly to his subordinate, and, with their charge between them, the policemen retraced their steps. CHAPTER XX But either because this fresh distraction had absorbed the major portion of his attention, or else because he had some feeling that Ronald was in fact on the verge of justifying his prepos-terous-sounding claims, the sergeant's grip on the young man's shoulder lessened considerably as the three strode back toward the old wharf. And either because he was prompted by some instinctive urge, or else because a sudden flash of intuition revealed subconsciously to him a means of definitely fixing the two policemen's attention on the building, Ronald, shrinking under that lightened clutch, suddenly twisted to one side, backed, and the next moment was running for the nearer wall. His manoeuvre took his custodians completely by surprise. There was a prolonged moment of suspense, and < then, with a sharp oath, the sergeant j ' dived in pursuit. However, if Police- j j Sergeant Thorpe of H. division of the ' Metropolitan Folic® thought that he J

: could easily catch up with the oneL time star performer of the Britfield , Harriers when that gentleman had ■ gained a ten-yards start he was sadly overestimating his own capacities. ! Ronald, dividing the space between , himself and the right-hand wall in i long bounds, hunched his shoulders, and charged low at a flimsy-looking door. The sudden impact was too much for the cheap cast-iron bolt, eaten through with rust; it gave, and Ronald burst through. Turning, he slammed the door shut with his heel, placed his left shoulder under the now useless latch and feverishly commenced rubbing the rope tying his hands against the coarse edge of the wall. Sergeant Thorpe charged the door like a bull, and the frail structure nearly splintered over Ronald's head. But the young man had kept his pres- ! sure low, with the result that the shock J forced hini backward some six inches, but 110 more. The door slammed again. By this time the rope strands were almost severed. A few more vicious rubs, with the rough brick chafing his wrists raw, and his hands were free. At the same moment that the strands fell apart Ronald again caught the j sound of footsteps approaching hurriedly. Slipping from the door; he turned and ran up the concrete lane in the direction of tho river. He had barely proceeded half a dozen yards when, with a snorting cry of bewildered surprise and dismay, Serj geant Thorpe hurled himself at tho | unsupported door and flew bouncing | on to the hard flags beyond. Ronald I snatched a deep breath and streaked i onward. j Of what ho was flying from he hardly { knew. Even his object was hazy. ; He had led the police back to that part of the old wharf where Maude and the others were. The sound of revolvershots should have done the rest. But, uncannily enough, Maude was making his attempt at escape in silence. Why? It did not seem right . . . something was wrong. ... Ronald drew to a tottering halt, appalled. From somewhere close in front of j him had shrilled the answering blast !of another policeman's whistle! He was caught between two fires with a vengeance! He had barely a couple of seconds in which to make up his mind and act. As a dark, burly figure suddenly reared out of the darkness in front of him he made a wild, swinging leap at the wall nearer the river. His fingers clawed the top, his legs laslied out desperately. As the constable jumped for him he swung his lissom body up, feet first, and vaulted over. His body reared, and dropped like a plummet on the far side. In his ears rang the constable's sharp cry, a mingled warning and execration. Then, all in a split second, he knew that something was different from his expectations. Where was he falling? Down . . . down. . . . Splash! The darkling waters of the Thames met over his head. He became aware of a sharp, stinging pain in his wrists as the cold water touched the raw flesh. The next instant his feet werar spreading under him and be was rising. Treading water, his head and shoulders emerged, ho refilled his lungs, and then, without a single notion of where to head for, and with only the most fragmentary knowledge of the locality along the north shore, he struck out, ducking his head, and making headway with a deep, fetching trudgeon. How long he remained in the water he did not know. Time passed, and after the shouts of the police and the piercing blasts of their whistles had died away he settled down to a steady breast-stroke, hugging close to the shore. However, he had not been swimming many minutes when he discovered that he had the tide with him. Trench's calculations, then, had been a trifle late, for it was not half an hour siuce Maude fired his signal shots. (To bo continued daily)