THE GREAT LAROCHE
THRILLING DRAMA OF SECRET SERVICE
CHAPTER XIV. ELSIE BREAKS DOWN Peter's embarrassament was almost overwhelming; this was tho last thing he had expected would happen. "It's all right," ho said in an attempt to sooth the sobbing girl, "It's silly to say it was your fault. No blam« could possibly bo placed on yoti —it s just that the luck has been against us; that's all." But the words produced fresh sobs. "I can't stand any more," she replied. "my uncle knew what he was doing when he came to London, but I never thought I should bring all this trouble on you. Don't you really know what has happened to your sister?" she went on to ask.
"Stop that crying!" ordered Kenton in a tone of semi-humorous rebuke. "Had you finished talking to Sir Harker when I came in!-"
"Yes ... I think so. He must be almost as weary of me as you are."
Peter gently shook her. "Who said 1 was weary of you?" ho returned.
"You haven't put it into words, I know —but your face showed it when you came in just now." •
Although he had never felt less like jesting in his life, Peter made a mild joke. "You mustn't blame me for my face, Miss Xorris —I didn't have much say in its making, you know." "I think it's a very nice face," was the unexpected comment; and then, as though this spontaneous remark had caused her acute confusion, she went on: "I must go; I shouldn t have worried Sir Harker at all Jf it hadn't been that his name and address were on the card with my uncle —" here she stot>ped for a moment and choked back a fresh sob —"gave me before all this started. My uncle told me that if anything happened to him and I was in any difficulty I was to go straight to Sir Harker."
"Exactly! That's just what this place is for —to help people in difficulties." He was thankful the Mole wasn't within earshot; if Bellamy ever heard him give expression to such sentiment he would go up in flames. At the same time, he had gathered from the Chief's manner that he would not be sorry if he found the girl gone by the time ho returned to the room. Which was why, when Elsie Norris picked up her bag from the chair on which she had been sitting, he made no further attempt to detain her.
"Where are you going?" He felt hu had to know this, however. During the last few minutes he had seen another side to this girl. Before, she had infuriated him on occasion, but now all that was gone. If only—but he told himself not to be a fool. "Back to the nursing home; my uncle is dying." "Dying? Surely not?"
She bit her lip. "The specialist they called in say* there is no hope. Sir Harker practically told me so before we came along here this morning." Renton did not know what to say beyond the conventional "I'm terribly sorry ... If I can do anything." "Thank you." By this time she was at the door.
"Can I come with you?" he proffered. She shook her head.
"Sir Harker will be wanting to talk to you . . . Goodbye." She was gone before he could say anything in reply to this.
Bellamy returned sc quickly that he might have been an actor waiting in the wings for his cue. "Where's that girl?" he snapped.
"She seemed to have the idea that vou wanted her out of the way, sir . . . a nice child," Peter added, as though speaking to himself.
''At the moment she's an infernal nuisance," was the older man's retort. "She's no information worth a damn regarding the work her uncle may or may not have been engaged on, and what is to happen to her when he dies —as he may do at any moment, according to Sir Robert Pertwee, the specialist who has beeb called in—l do, not know. Perhaps you would take on the responsibility?" he added with a sly smile.
Before Peter could answer, the speaker's manner had changed yei again. There was no hint of humour in Bellamys voice as he went on: "But you came here to tell me about Susan. Have you heard anything?" : "Yes, sir—something pretty damnable, too." When he had told the story of the two voices on the telephone the night before, Bellamy frowned. Jacquard may be right," he stated. "In any case I will have Soho combed to-day for this man Herat. And now go away and rest —if any news should come in on either side we will let each other know." Elsie started to walk down Whitehall feeling that she was in a mental maze. An extraordinary thing had happened to her: without any effort on her part, she had fallen in love with this young Secret Service agent, Peter Renton. That in itself would have been bewildering enough—but the situation was further complicated by the knowledge that Renton not merely despised but now had reason to hate her! He had forced himself to be polite just now. it was true, but that was merely superficial courtesy. He was not likely to forget—how could he?—that the sister he almost idolised had been placed in a position of terrible danger through her instrumentality. What could she do? She wanted to do something very badly—but the sense of futility was overwhelming. It was whilst she was still walking in this kind of dream-state that, unnoticed by iner, a car drew up at the kerb.
A man without a hat jumped out and caucht her by the arm. ''Excuse me. Miss Xorris—you are Miss Xorris, aren't you?" he inquired anxiously. "Yes —I'm ELsie Norris." "I'm from the nursing home; we knew you'd been io see Sir Harker Bellamy anci—" She interrupted him. "What's the matter? Is my imcle "That's why I've come in this car," pointing to it, ''l'm Dr. Martin. I should explain—one of the consultative medical staff. Sir Robert Pertwee. who i* still at the home, is afraid that the end is quite near. That's why I came to fetch you." In spite of her prostrating sense of grief. Elsie found time to murmur her thanks. "That's most awfully kind of you, doctor." Behind her back the man flashed the driver of the car a significant smile.
By SYDNEY HORLER Author of *' Tiger Standish,** "The Evil Chateau, etc*, etc.
(COPYniGUT)
Once the door had been closed behind her, the car shot off at a tremendous speed. Klsie might have wondered at this dangerous haste had not an explanation been rendered beforehand. Vet it was not until slio felt a sharp prick in her arm and turned quickly to see "Dr. .Martin" leering at her in a suggestive manner that she realised that the world had turned upside down; instead of being a friend, this man was an enemy! „ Then the powerful drug which had been sent in to her body through the hypodermic needle, began to take effect. Within a few seconds she was unconscious. She awoke to find a face that filled her with fear staring inflexibly at her. By what calamitous mishap had she fallen again into the hands ot her uncle s enemy she did not know- —it was sufficient that this appalling truth was brought home to her. "You have given me a great deal of trouble, voung lady, and for that, of course, you must expect punishment. But in the first place 1 want you to tell me exactly what has happened to you since you were on my houseboat. Omit nothing, I want to hear every detail." What was the use of her holding out? That would not do any good. So, quite simply and as clearly as her still befogged brain would permit, she narrated the chain of incidents that had occurred since the escape from the hideaway on the River Hamble. And she wound up with words: "I know nothing about my uncle's work, as 1 told Sir Harker Bellamy this morning. Consequently I could not give you his secrets even if 1 wanted to. As for my uncle, he is in a dying conditionbut you must have known that yourself otherwise you would not have been able to play off that trick on me. W hat worries me more than anything is the fact that Mr. Kenton's sister has been kidnapped by one of your men." Laroche. who had been playing with some pencils on the tablo before him, now stopped this activity. "What's that you say?" ho demanded. Elsie repeated what she had previously said. "I know nothing about this, replied the man to her astonishment, "but I will make inquiries. In the meantime, you will stop here." "But why? I've already told you I don't know anything.'' "I have heard you," was the answer, "but that is not to say I believe you."
It' was useless for Elsie to protest.; before she could say anything more, a man had entered in response to a summons from Laroche, caught her by the arm and had draped her out of the room. The ex-priest scowled as he continued to sit at his desk. His reaction to the last item pf newjf that the prisoner had given him was extremely annoying. He rang the desk bell again. "Yes. boss?" said the villainouslooking man who appeared so quickly he might have been shot out of a trapdoor. '•What's the last .you heard about that swine Horst?" inquired his superior. „ , . . Ix Stokes (Stowisky m the original) scratched his head. ' Last I heard, boss, was that he d got:e across to Paris." "It's a lie! I don't believe it. He s in London somewhere and you've got to find him. Don't let him know you're trading him—but telephone directly you have any news. And don't forget this is important " "O.K. boss."
CHAPTER XV. "the tbaveixer in silk goods" Meanwhile, at that.other headquarters of criminal activity run. by the renegade Edward Horst, an animated j discussion was preceding between the , former lieutenant of Laroche and Ruby Trost. that aged adept in crime, who ! •was devoting her few remaining years to ; acting as Horst's "housekeeper"—at least, that's what she called herself to the still recalcitrant Susan Kenton. She might have spared herself the trouble: ai though Susun was not? very familiar with criminal argot, she sensed | sufficient about this dreadful old woman ; to know that the term "housekeeper ' I covered a multiplicity of offences. If she j had known that "housekeeper ' was the term usually used by white slavers to > denote the woman who kept the poor j unfortunate girls safely under cover > until thev were shipped abroad. Susan might have felt even more apprehension than she was experiencing at the present time. _ . , . But that knowledge was mercifully hidden from her. "What's the good ot holding out for this so-called information which you sa> got —but which she won t give vouP' Rubv Trost was now demanding. "Ear better to get a good price for her —as you would do —and get her out.of the country as soon as possible. I hat would mean real money V The crone spat contemptuously as j she finished her brief harangue. Horst, reaching to take a cigarette; out of a tin by his side, did some re-; Sleeting. . , ; The prisoner had been extremely obstinate; even the threat of torture had | not moved her in the ieast. Her attitude had been summed up m, the one phrase "I'll see you in hell; first!" That was what she had told him j j at the beginning of the interview —and j i that was what she repeated when tins exhausting talk was concluded. j She had courage, this chit, and Horst. | who admired courage above any other | human quality, found himself sn the embarrassing position of mentally applaud- j inc this girl's stamina. But admiration was one thing; turning something | to good account in the shape of hard; cash was an entirely different matter, j ' A man had to live. i it was in the endeavour to break ins j i prisoner's spirit that he had done that j telephoning trick the previous night. "We will see what your brother has to sav on the subject,' he had threatened and, taking off the receiver, had asked for Peter Rentons number. Meanwhile, Ruby Trost had stood over the girl, revolver in hand. When he had first mimicked the voice of a voting girl beside herselt with anxietv —he prided himself that he had never brought off a better impersonation—and had followed it up with a statement in his own natural voice to the effect that the price was ten thousand pounds, he turned to the girl expecting to see her ready to admit ue- | But on the contrary. Susan Renton j was smiling—yes, smiling! "You won't be able to kid my brother ' with anv stuff of that sort," she told ! him. "He hasn't got ten thousand I pennies, the poor darling, let alone ten thousand pounds!" j He had threatened to lose his temper I completely. i "Are you or are you not going to I give me the information 1 want.' he | shouted. I Still she only smiled. I "The answer's in the negative, was ! the reply. , j It reallv seemed that she would con- ! tmue to hold out no matter what threats j he made; and. after all. the stuff she I knew —even assuming she was willing to j pass it on—was probably of very inI different value. A man like Bellamy j would not be fool enough to entrust j her with any valuable secrets. No. Ruby was right. | Horst looked tap at his hideous hand- ! maick'R and nodded. ■ The crone grunted. "Glad *.o see you've come to your ; senses at last," she said. "I'd better ring up Laidley, eh? ' "Jes —tell him there's something very special in the market." (To be coatinued d&iijrl
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New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22824, 3 September 1937, Page 18
Word Count
2,341THE GREAT LAROCHE New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXIV, Issue 22824, 3 September 1937, Page 18
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