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THE KILLERS

By LEONARD R. GRIBBLE

CHAPTER XXll.—(Continued) He mounted, the heavy pile muffling every sound of movement. At the firstHoor landing he came to a halt. He had seen lights shining from rooms on this floor. He returned his torch to his pocket End drew out a large, navy-blue silk handkerchief, purchased that evening for this very purpose from a kiosk at Victoria. In the darkness he tied it round his face, knotting it loosely at the back of his neck: Between the dark brim of his soft hat and the ridge of the handkerchief only his eyes shone. Again he moved on, to be brought up by a door ajar. Flattening himself against the wall, he contrived to crane his neck forward so that he could sec across one segment of the room. Seated at a dressing table was " Madame." She was busily engaged in attending to her eyebrows. He crept past. Misfortune nearly overtook him at the head of the central staircase, where he blundered into a newel-post. Quickly he passed on, his heart in his mouth. He came to another door from under which shone a light. Applying his eye to the keyhole, he made out the figure of the man with the scarred cheek. This individual was occupied with pen and paper at a writing bureau. Ronald stole on. He was now pretty certain that the prisoners were in the east wing, and thither he made his way without further pausing. However, he recalled that the lights he had seen reflected from rooms at this side" of the building had appeared at windows on the second floor. It took him some time before he came to the east wing staircase, and here he discovered that a less luxurious carpet had been laid down. He had to move with more care, using his torch, and ia the stillness his own breathing / sounded , abnormally loud. The first door he came to with a light showing under it, proved, upon his trying the handle, to be locked. That satisfied his qualms. Cupping his mouth with his, hands, he bent dowu and placed his fingers over the keyhole. His low hail brought an exclamation °f surprise from the occupant of the > „ room, and the next moment he was }/ speaking to Maude. It did not take long f|j' for either to explain his respective situation and to realise that they bad §§ »o means of unlocking the stout, ma* %{ hogany door. If, •! Then Ronald had a brain wave. He ||» retreated to the door of the next room H aloijg the corridor, tried the handle, !|? and, to his joy, found that it was unlocked. Crossing the room, he unfast-Ev,-fined the window and looked out. A jS small coping about three inches wide ran between the balconies outside the §. : ; .two rooms. Returning to the door of Maude's room, he communicated his o discovery, and the diplomat at once J agreed to make what was an attempt fraught with a danger scarcely assesSable. A slight misplacement of his balance in edging one foot up to the other, or a few inches of rotten masonry, and - lie would fall headlong fifty feet.

(COPYRIGHT)

A STORY OF THRILLS, ROMANCE AND ADVENTURE

The decision made, however, Ronald returned to the other room and stepped on to the balcony. Maude, as a precaution, switched off the light in his own room before opening the casement window. Ronald, peering through the dark, afraid to use his torch to guide his friend, made out a black form clambering over the iron railings of the balcony. Then he saw the figure spreadeagle against the face of the wall, and slowly, inch by inch, the figure drew nearer. Every one of these seconds that passed Ronald's heart thumped painfully. The space seemed to grow with the passage of time. When Maude was halfway across he could hear his laboured breathing. Three-quarters, only a matter of some three yards to go now . . . and Maude suddenly paused. His shape seemed to sag, and an expression of horror crept into the young man's eyes. What...? \ Before his mind could frame a question he was over the railings, a yard and more along, leaning over. His fingers gripped Maude's shoulder roughly, and he heard his friend wince with pain. Both men reeled slightly, and Ronald dug his cheek against the stonework. For several seconds they clung there, breathing hard and not daring to move a step. Then Ronald managed to get the palm of his left hand flat against the stone wall, and, still retaining his hold on Maude's shoulder, he drew back firmly. " Step with me," he muttered, his throat suddenly dry. " Left foot—now." ; In this fashion, moving together as Ronald gave the word, they all but crept along toward the balcony, until Ronald's groping left hand seized the iron railing. Breathing a fervent sigh of relief, he pulled at Maude's shoulder sharply. Instinctively Ronald tugged, and Maude threw himself at the young man. Breathless, the two stood for a moment clinging to the iron railings, their arms about each other, barely realising that the most perilous moment of the nerve-racking passage had passed. Inside the darkened room, the window once more closed, they discussed in a hushed whisper the next move. Unfortunately Maude did not know into which rooms Trench and the other two, Zita and the Count, had been placed. Even prompted by Ronald regarding the other lights in that wing of the building he was unable to speak with any certainty. Trench, he thought, was in a room not far away. He had heard a door open and shut at what seemed hours ago, and a voice that had sounded like Trench's, but which had been muffled and indistinct, had been raised in an angry bellow. They decided that there was no time to waste in idle speculation. Which ever of the other prisoners was in the next room with a light must be released. The main consideration was to make the greatest use of the time they had before an interruption came. Moving together down the corridor, they paused before another door from

under which gleamed an edging of orange light. Softly Ronald tapped upon a panel with his fingers. There was a sound of someone yawning, and then a tired voice demanded " Who the devil's that?" In the darkness Ronald and Maude stared at each other, perplexed. That was not a voice they knew. Who could be in the room? The same thought rose foremost in the mind of each. Had they blundered? It was too late to retreat. Already the person within the room was stumping across the floor, muttering in a harsh, metallic voice. A hand on the other side of the door fumbled at the keyhole. Clumsily a key was inserted. Ronald leaned over Maude's shoulder. "Rush him —stop his mouth!" he whispered. Maude nodded, forgetful that the other could not see in the darkness of the corridor. Then the door opened, and for a brief instant, framed in the background of soft light, appeared the huge bulk of a man with wild, uncouth hair. Before he had a chance to utter a sound the two had flung themselves upon him. As the three tumbled inside the room Ronald kicked at the door with his foot, and it closed. For a moment there was a thrashing melee of arms and legs in the centre of the room; then Ronald's right fist settled the issue by crashing through the stiff, stubbly beard. The man gave a short grunt and subsided, but Ronald stared at him with wide eyes. The force of his blow had dislodged the dark beard. He drew it from the flaccid face, revealing square-lined features and a. "bulldog" jaw. "My God!" muttered Maude, staring. "Inspector Brame of the Special Branch! What in the name of thunder is he doing at Fardale Hall?"

CHAPTER XX 111 Ronald's delivery upon the Scotland Yard man's jaw, as it proved, had been dealt more forcefully than in the circumstances was required, or even desired. A good four minutes expired before Geoffrey Brame opened his eyes and stared at the smiling Maude with a look of sick wonder. « " Why, Lester Maude!. . . What—" He rubbed his jaw ruefully, glanced quickly aside, saw his erstwhile beard in Ronald's hand, then sat up with a jerk. " What —" he began again, but as before got no farther. "All right, Branie," said * Maude, grinning, "we've all made mistakes in our time, but you can hardly put the blame on us." The Inspector gave the diplomat a sharp glance. His mouth screwed to one side in a characteristic moue, expressive of enjoyment at some secret joke. "H'mph," he vouchsafed, studying the other two. " I thought you were under lock and key, Maude." " So I was till I was rescued by my friend here." Maude indicated Ronald, on whom the Yard man now turned his attention. "Well, how'd he do it?" he asked shortly, still addressing the other. " Got me to walk along a crazy parapet to the balcony of the next room. Close thing, too. Grigo'rni wasn't too kind to my right arm, and half-way along I went giddy with pain." The Yard man glowered. "Crazy?" he echoed. "Why, you must have been mad, trying that bit of stucco coping I" Maude smiled tolerantly. "But how was I to get out?" he asked, with pretended surprise. " Get out? Why—why, oh, you'd have .got out all right, man! What the devil do you thjnk I'm here for, if it isn't to look after such lame dogs as yourself?" he grunted, again applying his fingers tenderly to his battered jaw.

" Exactly, Brame. Now you have admitted so much perhaps you'll have the goodness to complete the explanation ? In the circumstances 1 don't think you can very well object—" "Can't I?" grinned the Yard man exasperatingly. "You people in the D.S. can't expect to be spoon-fed every tiino your little tummies are empty." He rose to his feet and held his hand for the beard, which Ronald willingly surrendered. " But seriously, Maude," continued Brame, "it all boils clown to this. We've been looking after these ffightborn people for some weeks now —" " Then you know about the Nightborn?" Maude sounded surprised. " Oh, we pick up a few things at the Yard, you know," Brame remarked, with heavy offhandedness. " Whitehall might save our branch a lot if they would. Still, we can't very well complain. Tradition made 'em, and I suppose they've got to abide by it. They certainly do, anyway." Maude's grin became expansive. This friendly rivalry between the members of the Diplomatic Service and the picked men of Scotland Yard's Special Branch was one of the few spices of existence. " Well, we'll consider the credit duly bestowed where it's due, Brame. Tret's have the rest, man." The Inspector moved to A dressing table, applied a fresh layer of liquid adhesive to the skin lining of the beards and readjusted the latter to.the shape of his face. Holding it in position until .the adhesive became tacky, he turned and regarded the otherß. " There's nothing much to add, Maude. I was given the job of getting inside. 1 did. At the moment I'm secretarial assistant to Professor MiklofF,. a gentleman, like myself, of pronounced Communistic tendencies." Maude glanced aside at Ronald. " Mikloff's the man with the scarred cheek, Ronnie," he explained briefly. " I didn't realise it until too late. It was he who tricked us last night. Filled the outer chamber with some sort of gas. When we came to we were trussed up—ready for market," he finished, with forced joviality. "You've certainly got inside, Brame," he continued, addressing the Yard man. " But the particular problem of the moment, and, incidentally, by far the most pressing, is bow are we going to got out —all of us?" Brame shook his large head. " I'm afraid, Maude, your friend here has been a trifle premature in his latest endeavour." Honald's eyes acknowledged the hint of a challenge in the brown eyes of the Yard man. " I made Kolletski talk. The girl and her uncle are in danger." " True," the other nodded. "But so is every one here." "But Kolletski said she was in especial danger. Grigorni, he said, was desperate, and was determined either to make her talk or—" He broke off, looking away. Suddenly ho fell to pacing the room. The eyes of the Yard man and the diplomat met, and the expression on the face of each was one of understanding. Maude nodded shortly. .Ronald spun round. " And here we are wasting time! Why, even now —" " Softly, Mr. Blassington." Ronald paused. " How did you know my name? Maude here hasn't —" " You forget, sir, that you are wanted for the murder of Karl Grigorni, Ambassador of the Court of Kerstev to Great Britain." Although the Inspector was merely having his little joke, the familiar quotation caused Ronald's face to lengthen. His teeth snapped. " If I get my hands on that devil —" " Exactly," broke in Brame, who seemed determined not to let the young man complete his utterance. " Tf you do. Let's hope for the sake of all of us that you don't —because what Kollecski said was true." " You mean?" queried Maude rather sharpjy. (To bo continued daily)

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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NZH19341022.2.155

Bibliographic details

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXI, Issue 21937, 22 October 1934, Page 17

Word Count
2,216

THE KILLERS New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXI, Issue 21937, 22 October 1934, Page 17

THE KILLERS New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXI, Issue 21937, 22 October 1934, Page 17