THE RAVEN

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22463, 6 July 1936, Page 17

THE RAVEN

By LIONEL HAMILTON

CHAPTER V. —(Continued)

Roger slid away from the wheel, toward the near side of the door. As he did so, the Lagonda's radiator smashed into the side of the Daimler. The Lagonda seemed to crumple up. The steering wheel, driven upward by the force of the ciash, smashed through the glass at the bank of the driver's seat. If Roger had not moved his head ho would have been crushed to death. As it was, he was badly shaken and jarred. The moment of impact had sent him upward out of his seat, and for a moment ho had feared that the Lagonda would turn over. But the chassis quivered, lurched, then righted itself. A dozen passers-by rushed to the scene of the smash. Roger could hear them muttering: "The man in the Daimler —he must have been mad." "Murder, that's what it was."

" 'Ope tho poor chap's all right—yes, 'is eyes is open, see. 'E's 0.K., ain't ycr, mate?" Roger forced a smile. Willing hands helped him from tho car. Ho leaned against tho door for a moment, sick and bruised. And then his hotly tightened. "Tho other driver—is he all right?" Someone hurried round to the driving seat. Roger heard a sudden shout, which might have been of alarm or of astonishment. Then the cockney voice came again. "Lor' ltimmo, mate! 'E ain't 'ere!" There was a babble of conflicting opinions. Somo of the oidookers claimed that lie had run off. Another muttered grimly, looking hard at Roger: "Did it a'purposo, that's my fancy. Orl right, Bobby, I ain't in no-one's way. Oo ycr shovin' of?" The stolid policeman took no notice of the comment, but pushed his way toward tho Lagonda, fishing for his notebook as ho went. Another man in blue started to move the crowd along, and a third telephoned from a near by house for a break-down gang to come and clear the wrcckago away.

Roger Trenthain was wondering what to say to his interrogator. For he know what tho other man had guessed. The smash had been deliberately engineered —it was the second attempt on his life!

CHAPTER VI ANNE DKVINE

Roger made a bald statement of tho facts. He had been about to turn into King's Terrace, when the Daimler had overtaken him on the corner. He imagined that the driver, realising what he had done, had taken fright and made off. No, ho hadn't recognised the driver at all —nor the Daimler. One Daimler was very much like another, wasn't it?

The policeman admitted that it was, took full particulars —name, address etc. —and then asked if Roger was all right. The latter was still feeling shaky, but he felt capable of walking to King's Terrace—and he did not intend that tho "accident" should put him off his journey. But before he called on the Devines, ho intended to telephone Fowler, at Scotland Yard: There was a telephone kiosk near by. On the pretence of making a call to his flat, he went to it. Within three minutes he was talking to the Superintendent. "I've just had a smash," he said quickly. "One of the patrol men has taken the necessary, but I didn't give him a description of the driver. He bolted." "Bolted?" Fowler's tono showed his astonishment. "Yes. It was a variation to the shooting method of getting rid of unwanted people. That driver, now. He was a little man, dark, with a twisted nose and minus a right finger. I particularly noticed the finger because ho was holding a paper when 1 passed him. He picked mo up in King's Crescent. I'm going to some friends of my uncle's in King's Terrace. That enough for you to go on?" "You can't tell us any more," Fowler admitted. "Lucky thing you noticed the driver. I'll circulate that description right away. Are you all right?" _ . "Apart from a bruise or two, I m fine." Roger left the kiosk and stepped into the street. He looked grimly at the wreckage of his own car, and the Daimler. For the first time he realised how close he had been to extinction. But for his movement away from the steering wheel he could not have survived. Both cars were badly damaged. A break-down gang was already working on them, and within half an hour, Roger knew, there would be no trace of the smash. But there would bo a very strong memory of it! As he walked toward No. 7, ho realised still more the danger in which ho stood. No matter where he went nor what lie did, he would bo liable to sudden death. Tho Raven was after him —and The Raven had been known to boast that he never failed. Roger shrugged his shoulders. I his was one of those occasions when llio Raven was going to miss his guess! Number 7, King's lerrace, proved to bo very much like the other houses in the street. Four storeys high, it was a narrow, rather dirtv-looking building, but inside, Roger knew, it would seem very much larger than it appeared from tho outside. Those houses were among the most famous in London —and that meant in the world. He smiled to himself as ho wondered what Miss Anne Devine would think if she knew the reason for his call. He wondered idly whether she would be in, and whether her father would bo there, too. Midas Lee had merely said that the man was an old friend. Roger did not even know his Christian name. A griin-faced butler opened the door —much grimmer, Roger thought, than there appeared reason for. Ibo man was thickset and tough-looking, more of a prizefighter than a manservant. He looked inquiringly at Roger. "Is Mr. Devine in?" asked Roger. _ "I'm sorry, sir. He is out of town." "Hump," thought Roger, "this is a bad day to call. And the man may look tough, but he's got the propel butler's voice—soft and whispery." Aloud ho said: "That's a pity. Is Mrs. Devine in? Or Miss Anne?" The butler drew back a pace, inviting Roger to follow him. In tlio large, gloomy hall, the younger man produced h card and scribbled across it "as re<)nested bv my uncle, Midas Lee." He handed this to the man, who took it without glancing down, and who walked in a stately manner toward one of the rooms leading out of the hall. Ho returned, quickly, and bowed slightly. "Miss Anno will be very pleased to see von, Mr. 'irenthain. Roger stepped into the room and looked across it. A moment later o colour drained from his face and his lips parted. .Fust for a moment he iclt that ho had had a physical shock Miss Anne Devine had been looking down at a magnificent Alsatian on the rug. Roger had seen her profile. Not for .1 moment could he doubt where lie had seen her before. She was the girl who had entered the Cat and Fiddle club, on tho night of the robbery at Tho Towers! There was not the slightest suggestion of recognition on tho girl's fnee, not the slightest hint that she noticed the way in which he stared at her. oho

AN ABSORBING TALE OF CRIME, MYSTERY AND ROMANCE

(COPTHIGHT)

stood up, gracefully, and smiled. Fullface, she was as lovely us she was in profile. Her features were well-pro-portioned and beautifully moulded, her skin flawless, her teeth small, even, shapely. She was dressed in a smart tailor-made costume, and her slim legs and neat ankles were immaculate in silk stockings and small, dainty shoes. "Mr. Trentham? 1 don't think I've heard father speak of you, nit hough I knew your uncle, of course." t Roger swallowed hard. Unless he was careful, ho told himself, he was going to make a mess of things. His voice was steady when he spoke, and he managed a smile, wondering the while whether she realised the effort that it cost him.

"I have heard of you," lie said. "My uncle particularly asked me to meet—cr —your father and mother. Apparently they were old friends." "Colleagues, anyway," said Anne Devi no. She looked at him, a- little anxiously, he thought. "You're looking pale, Mr. Trentham. A whisky-and-soda?" "It's a wicked time of the day to ask for one," said lioger, with a. rueful laugh, "but I could do with a piek-me-U PHe broke off as Anne Devine pulled a Ix'll-rope to summon the butler. The man must have been waiting outside, for the door opened as Roger went on: "1 had a difference of opinion with a I Daimler at the end of the road. There j isn't a great deal left of the c:\rs, I m : afraid, but i was lucky to squeeze out Anne Devine looked alarmed. There : was something adorable in the way in j which she looked at him. "You mean you were in the smash at the end of the"street? I heard it, and wondered what had happened. Was anvbody—?" She broke off, looking round. Roger looked with her. They saw the butler | standing in the doorway, his ; coloured a deep red —and a tray which , he had dropped was still clattering on | the parquet floor bordering tlm room. "Oh, Mason —bring Mr. Trentham ! whisky and soda, will you?" The girl's voice was smooth and well- j modulated. She affected not to notice ■ the tray, although the noise of its tall- j ing had made them both look round, j She smiled as the door closed. j "Mason isn't often clumsy, she i said. A Roger Trentham told himself two j things. One, that the girl was as con- j siderato to her servants as she was j beautiful—which was saying a lot—and j two, that it was a peculiar fact that j the butler had dropped that tray. He j remembered hearing the door open, and he had been surprised, when lie had looked round, to see the man still by the door. There had been ample time for him to have crossed the room from the moment that the door had opened and the tray had crashed to the floor. That meant—at least it appeared to mean—that Mason had been listening to Roger's explanation of the smash at the corner of the road. Was it possible that Mason had known that the smash had been due? Roger admitted that it was possible. In the first place, the girl was unquestionably mixed up in the aflairs of The Raven". That suggested that her father was also mixed up in it. \\hat was more likely than that some of servants were actually members of llie Raven's association? . He thought as he talked, realising that the girl would readily understand if he appeared to be woolgathering. Mason came in quickly with the whisky, and a strong nip made Roger feci a different man. He leaned back in his chair, looking evenly at the girl. Inwardly ho was thinking that it was impossible that she'was a willing associate of the men who killed coldbloodedly. She couldn't be! There was something—straight—about the way in which she looked at him, about the depths of her grey eyes. A sudden, crazy thought flashed through Roger Trentham's mind. He had voiced it almost before he had realised what he was saying. "I hope you didn't lose much at the Cat and Fiddle the other night, Miss Devine. I—" . . He broke off, staring m astonishment at the girl. For as he had mentioned the name of the night-club an expression of sheer horror had crossed her face. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and the colour fled from her cheeks! "What on earth?" he started, jumping from his chair. "1 —" . . A sudden movement from behind him made s him turn round. He found Mason, hurrying across the room, staring at him with a peculiar expression on" his battered face. "I happened to hear you exclaim, sir," said the butler, obsequiously. "I'm afraid that Miss Anno is suffering from one of her attacks. The heart, sir—she is only recently recovered from a very severe attack of influenza —" As he spoke, the man produced a small bottle. Whether he had carried it with him or whether ho had taken it from one of the small tables in. the room, Roger could not know. All he knew was that Anne Devine was leaning back in her chair, her eyes closed, the breath coming fast between her lovely lips. ■ The butler bent over her, pressing tho bottle to her lips. The girl's eves opened. She tried to speak, but the man forced the liquid in the bottle into her mouth. ' The girl swallowed it, and a shudder ran through her slim body. 1" or a moment she stared at Roger and at the butler. Then, with a little gasp, she dropped back in her chair, in a dead faint. "What on earth did you do?' demanded Roger angrily. "I don't think that she—" Tho man broke in quietly, but with a grim ness in his voice which told Roger Trentham that all was not as it should be at 7 King's Terrace. "You will forgive me, sir, but Muss Anno is reluctant to take her medicine. and it has to be forcibly administered. 1 am afraid that sho will be asleep for several hours, now. It is most regret table, but —" lie broke oil', and glanced meaningly toward tho door. Roger looked hard at him. Tho face, battered, he guessed, from many a ring contest, was absolutely expressionless. His eyes were brown, steady and rather small, but set widely apart on each side of a rather badly squashed nose. His chin was prominent, and his ears of the variety called cauliflower, although Roger had seen many worse specimens. The latter was puzzled. He-pUiew perfectly well that the girl had not been "taken ill." She had been terrified at the mention of tho Cat and Fiddle Club. The butler had obviously been listening outside the door, bad heard the name mentioned, and had immediately interfered. Ho had forced the girl to drink a "medicine" which was almost certainly a strong sleeping draught—with a mixture of a powerful drug to induce immediate unconsciousness.

Mnt the thing which puzzled Trontham was his host- course of action. Should he tell Mason, bluntly, that, lie believed he was lying? Or was it best to appear to accept the explanation, tender his sympathies, and promise to call on Mr. 'Devi 110 at a later date? The possibilities of both courses flashed quickly through his mind as he hauled himself out of his chair. Ho decided on the latter course, and forced a smile. "1 hope that she will soon recover," he said quietly. "Will you leave my card with Mr. Devine on his return?" "Of course, sir." "When do t vou expect him hack?" "I am afraid that we have 110 information, sir." (To be continued daily)