THE RAVEN

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIII, Issue 22469, 13 July 1936, Page 17

THE RAVEN

By LIONEL HAMILTON

CHAPTER X (Continued) " Look hero," snapped Hatchings. " You say Trentham knows a lot, that he's dangerous. Does his knowledge amount to a row of beans, I ask you? Does—" " Listen," said Devine, " Trentham followed you and my daughter from The Towers. He didn't know—Fowler and Benson don't know—that The Haven was making for London by another route. Trentham, taking advantage of the fact that you didn't recognise his car as a police car, followed you to the club. He saw you go in, with Anne. Therefore he's dangerous because he's seen you botli and can identify you." " All tho more reason," said Hutcliings, " why he should be put to sleep." " Wait a minute He told tho police everything. Pie spent three days at The Towers, looking after tho formalities consequent upon Midas Lee's death. Then lie comes to London and the first tiling he docs, after visiting tho police, is to come here. In other words, he'd recognised Anne and traced her here —" "Didn't lie —" it was the third man who spoke, in a curiously soft voice, " didn't he say, on his card, that he had called 011 an introduction from Midas Lee?"

"Ho did," snapped Devine, "but we can take that for what it's worth—nothing. Naturally lie wouldn't call and ask to see a girl whom he'd noticed going into the Cat and Fiddle." Hatchings broke in roughly.. "i think you're making too much fuss of Trentham," ho said. "He's only dangerous because he's clever, and ho knows a bit. Snuff him, and you snuff the danger." "I tell you," began Devine, but broke off as the telephone bell burred out.

The instrument was on the table. The Haven picked it up muttering into the mouthpiece. There was 110 expression 011 his face as lie took the message, gave an order, and replaced the receiver.

"That was Piccolii." ho said. "Trentham is in our private reception room at the club. I have told him to look after him well."

Both Devine and Hutchings looked at him without speaking. They knew that they could decide nothing. Ho held the deciding vote at ail their meetings—and he was at the head of their organisation. He had started it. He planned most of the robberies and executed them. Hutchings was used as a go-between with the iesser members of the organisation, and Samuel Devine was, 1 as Superintendent Fowler had shrewdly hazarded —one of the most important members of the organisation—the jewel merchant who disposed of the ill-gotten gems through channels which seemed perfectly legitimate. But it was The Haven who decided. They stared at him.

"Well," Hutchings grunted, at last, "what are we doing with Trentham?" The Raven looked at them. He smiled, and then he laughed, and his eyes fluttered up and down.

"I think," he said, "it will be wiser to keep him, until to-morrow. Perhaps by then we shall know just how much he has told the police." "How?" demanded Devine.

"By seeing what the police do," said The Raven.

The others grunted but fell in with his arrangement without argument. There was logic in it —while it was, virtually, a command.

Anne Devine was pale when she reached No. 7, King's Terrace. She knew that Trentham had waited back for her, and when she found that he did not follow her from the club, she realised that he had been forcibly detained.

Something stuck in her throat at that. She knew only too well the strength of The Raven and his organisation. She realised that, while Hatchings was allowed to give his opinion and argue them, there would be killing at the end of every attempt to break through the mystery of The Raven's identity. Hutchings was a killer —an American gangster of some breeding, but as merciless and ruthless as any man who had come out of the States. She was driven home by Mason. There was a light in the front window of the house, and although she could not see beyond the blind, she knew that there was a meeting in session—a meeting, almost certain, to decide the fate of Roger Trentham. Not for the first time that day she saw a mental picture of that enterprising young man. Tall, over six feet, she guessed, fair-haired, clear-skinned, handsome after a rugged and essentially masculine fashion, with a well-developed chin, full but well-shaped lips and a pair of steadj' grey eyes. He had been well-dressed, well-groomed—she remembered the wave in his fair hair. There had been something attractive about Roger Trentham —and something doubly attractive about the way in which he had looked at her. Anne went to her own room, but sat in a chair for some time, with a book on her lap, but making little pretence of reading. Her ears were attuned to the slightest sound. She knew that the meeting between the men would not last much longer. The sound of movement came at last. There was the hum of voices, the closing and opening of doors. Then her father's voice came, wishing the others good-night. The front door closed, and she heard Samuel Devine's footsteps coining along the passage. She' got up quickly, and hurried to the door. Outside she stopped, more than a little afraid. "Can i get you anything, madam?" It was Mason, the butler. Anne Devino hated Mason more than she hated Hutchings, more than sho detested The Haven. Sho knew |>crfectly well why he was in the house. He was watching her, making sure that she did not try to give information to the police—or to someone like Roger Trentham. He had been at the King's Terrace house for several months, now, and Anne had hardly been able to move without him. He drove the car when she needed it, he was always at the Cat and Fiddle club with her, and sho knew that the chances were that he was always within a few yards of her room. "No," she said shortly, and walked past the man. Mason stood watching her, with his eyes half-closed. He sensed the animosity which she bore him and, secretly, it amused "him. He liked to think of the girl, forced against her will to do exactly what she was told—and he liked to think that, if necessary, he could give her orders. There was a proud beauty about Anne Devine —and Mason, with the typical spirit of the poor man who has, in some ways, risen above his station, hated her because she had what he could never have. Class, breeding, that poise which made her so fascinating as sho walked. Mason hated her for it.

Anlie did not look round, although slip sensed that he was staring after her. Her mind travelled backwards, to the time when she had discovered that her father was an associate of thieves. She had been blackmailed into joining the organisation. It had been that —or her father's life. She had had no choice.

AN ABSORBING TALE OF CRIME, MYSTERY AND ROMANCE

(COPYMGBT)

From that time Anne had been, as Freddie Carliss had suspected, a decoy at the Cat and Fiddle Club —and the various places where the gaming salon had been before the club haft been opened—and a decoy, also, at many of the famous houses which had been burgled. Daughter of one of the most distinguished jewel-merchants in London, no one had dreamed of suspecting her, or her companion at the various balls and parties which she had attended. She had been with Hutchings, The Haven himself —so cleverly disguised that at times she had hardly recognised him herself—and with other members of the gang. Not once had .she taken any part in the robberies. She had been there just to lend colour to the standing of her companion. As such, she knew, she was invaluable to The Raven —and she knew that she would never be able to break away from the man. He controlled her, through her father —and even if her father died, lie would still be able to influence her; she was afraid of him. To defy him would mean certain death. All these things passed through her mind as she hurried from her room and entered the library. Her father was sitting in an arm chair, a frown on his face, lines of worry at his mouth and eyes. She went up to him, quietly, and pressed his shoulder. Ho looked up, and there was gratitude in his eyes—gratitude, love, and not a little shame. "Has iinything been arranged?" she asked, quietly Devine nodded. "The Haven's going to tackle tho Stutz Diamonds," lie said. "You know them —" Anno nodded. She knew the Stuta family—one of the richest in England. Gabriel Stutz had made his money in potted foods, and his wife had spent it on precious stones. "When?" she demanded. Devine shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Hutchings doesn't know. The Haven's getting more and more careful, dear. There was a time when everything was arranged at the meetings. Now there is little more than the giving of orders." Anne nodded. Sho was not thinking of the Stutz Diamonds or the way 111 which The Haven had altered his methods. She was thinking of a pair of steady grey eyes. She looked at her father anxiously. "What happened about Trentham?" she demanded. The other's eyes widened. "How did you know ho was under discussion ?" "He waited for me at the club — but he didn't come out after me. I put two and two together." Devine nodded. His face was grey. "I'm afraid he's finished, Anne. The Haven is waiting until to-morrow. Ho wants to see how the no]ice work. If something exceptional doesn't turn up Trentham will be the fourth man who's died." (To be continued daily)