ADVENTURE MYSTERIOUS

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXV, Issue 23018, 21 April 1938, Page 20

ADVENTURE MYSTERIOUS

CHAPTER XXl.—(Continued) With the smile still on his lips, Dick looked expectantly at his visitor. That gentleman was ready for him, but, apparently, during his enforced silence, had decided to drop the matter of finance, temporarily, at least, and develop the conversation on new lines. "May I take it as a fact, Mr. Leslie," he asked, "that you were not acquainted with the late Mr. Tuscan? "I haven't heard of him until two days ago, and never met him in my life," Dick replied promptly. "And yet you were interested enough in him to attend his inquest ?" The comment was accompanied by a shrewd look at him which made Dick feel that at last the heart of the business was to be exposed. "I was curious as to the cause of his death, as, apparently, you also were," he replied his voice and expression involuntarily hardening. ; / "I confess I was curious, but in a.nother way." Herrings paused for a brief space, then added, as though, reflectively, "I knew how Tuscan died, but" —he gave Dick a purposeful stare, and his words came out with a sudden staccato sharpness that was arresting —"I did not kiiow what had become of a certain letter he was to have received a couple of hours before his death. I think I have picked up the information I was looking for." Dick was thrilled swiftly by a queer sense of peril. The man was showing his hand with a vengeance. Surely hG would not so plainly expose his connection with Tuscan's death unless with the ' knowledge of power to impose secrecy on, to silence effectively, the person to whom he revealed it. Dick wondered if all he had listened to was but a' prelude to an attack on him similar to that which had ended in Tuscan's death. Physically, he felt that he was a match for this man, but what if he were armed, or had confederates within reach, awaiting his signal? Thankfulness that he had safety disposed, of Patricia's letter was his dominant emotion at the moment, but lie was conscious also of a certain satisfaction that, Miss Jonas, resourceful Miss Jonas, was on the qui vive, and that Everton and his man would very shortly arrive. Nothing of what was in his mind, however, could be gathered from his demeanour. He met Herrings' stare steadily, and then, as though he were beginning to find the interval rather wearisome, affected an expression of mild impatience. "I don't see where all this is leading to, Mr. Herrings," he said, with a slight shrug of his shoulders; surely your information as to Mr. Tuscan's death would be more valuable and interesting to the coroner than to me." "The coroner must manage to arrive at conclusions without my assistance," Herrings replied, with cool cynicism. "I was not present at and had no hand in Tuscan's death. I know, however, that over-excitement killed him, and the doctor's evidence on that point will have to suffice the coroner. My bnsines is with the missing letter; if that has been on Tuscan's body or among his papers his estate would now be the richer by my cheque for twenty thoosfind pounds.

CHAPTER XXn. DICK EEFCBEB A FOBTTTNE Dick just managed to suppress an involuntary whistle, but he could not quite,hide the surprise that leaped into his eyes. So : 'the cat 1 -was out 'of -the

By FRANCI'S MARLOWE World-famed author, traveller and dramatist.

STRANGE MYSTERY SURROUNDS A BEAUTIFUL GIRL AND HER LIFE IS IN DANGER, BUT A DESPERATE AND DETERMINED LOVER APPEARS.

bag at last. And what a queer-looking animal it was! The letter ,_ as he had thought, was the lure which brought this sleek, smooth-speaking gentleman to call on him, but it was bribery, and not buccaneering, that for the moment, at least, was in his mind. Twenty thousand pounds! A nice, luscious bait the man had chosen wherewith to do his tempting. Decidedly, thought Dick, the situation, if less immediately dangerous, had grown very much more interesting. Mr. Herrings was looking fixedly at him, obviously watching the effect of his sensational statement. Dick resolved that he would make him speak still more plainly before admitting any knowledge of the letter. "From what you say I can understand your interest in the inquest," he said blandly, "but I still cannot see how I can be of service to you." Mr. Herrings smiled tolerantly. "I'm inclined to think you are wilfully dense," he said, "or, perhaps not knowing me, you are merely cautious. Look here, Mr. Leslie, we're both men of the world, so, without further beating about the bush, I'll offer you twenty thousand pounds for that letter —and I'll give you Bank of England notes, and not a cheque." . Dick opened his eyes very wide, then chuckled. "You must pardon me if I don t take you seriously, Mr. Herrings," he said: "I don't doubt your ability to pay me twenty thousand pounds, but I'd rather like to know why you should imagine I have the letter to which you refer, and why, also you should think that if I had it I should hand it to you, unless you coidd prove your title to it. As you wish to buy it, it would seem I should have to look elsewhere for its owner."

"Twenty thousand pounds is quite a nice sum of money, Mr. Leslie," Mr. Herrings said solemnly. "If I were you I'd think, twice before refusing it. 1 may not renew the offer, you know. I'd like to do business in a pleasant, friendly way with you, but if you're not inclined that way—well, there's nothing more to be said. But remember," he paused impressively, "I know you have the letter I want, and when I tell you that I'm prepared to pay £20,000 for it you can understand that I'm very anxious—and not likely to spare trouble —to get it into my possession."

"You've made up your mind then, that I have this letter?" Dick said with an ironical smile at the implied threat.

"I'm a business man, Mr. Leslie, and 80 are you," Mr. Herrings' tone was slightly edged with irritation, "and I wouldn't waste my time and yours if I hadn't satisfied myself that you have it. I've been interested in this letter for some considerable time, you see, and I happened to know that the late Mr. Tuscan was at his London Wall office specially to receive it. The letter was to have been given to him personally by 12 o'clock on the day he waited for it, but there appears to have been a hitch of some kind, for the messenger did not arrive in time. Now, Mr. Leslie, we come to you. A few minutes after 12 o'clock—Mr. Tuscan had only just left London Wall office, as a matter of fact —you arrive and inquire very anxiously for him. You gave an explanation of this fact at the inquest, but frankly, I don't believe it. The only person who would have looked for, ajid expected to find, Mr. Tuscan at his London. Wall office

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on that particular day was the messenger he was expecting. The obvious inference is that you were the ger; you were too late to deliver the letter, and, as it has not come to light since Mr. Tuscan's death, it is very clear that it is still in your possession." Dick, who had been listening carefully, but with an air of simulated indifference, was just about to reply when his attention was caught by the sound of movement in his outer office. He guessed that Everton and his. man had arrived, and rose at once from his chair. "I must ask you to excuse me again, but I shan't keep you waiting more than a moment or so," he said. "1 have callers, and my stenographer is not there to attend to them." Mr. Herrings gave him a courteous nod of understanding, but there was something of suspicion in his eyes, as he watched him ieave the room and close the door behind him. As Dick expected, Everton was awaiting him, and with him was a tall, soldierly-looking man of about 40 years of age. Dick warned Everton to silence with a gesture, and moving to the still open door, signalled to the men to follow him into the corridor.

"The man I spoke of to you on tho 'phone is in my office," he explained, addressing Everton. "I haven't any doubt now, though no actual proof, that he's the principal in the a matter I'm investigating, and that if you follow him up he'ii lead you to the man Long was tracking when he met with his accident. I'll get rid of him in about five minutes, and, if you trail him from here, it's fairly certain you'll be well 011 the way to clearing up my business and your own, too." Everton smiled grimly. "That's certainly good news," he said. "He'll have to be pretty smart to shake off Tliorne, or catch him napping, as I'm afraid his friend did Long. Thorne —he addressed the man who had arrived with him —■ this is Mr. Leslie; you'll report to him as well as to me when you've any news."

"I can't stay another moment now," Dick said hurriedly, "Thorne can pick up the man as he leaves here, and if you, Everton, you look back after he's gone I'd be glad of a talk with you. Meanwhile, if you will, I'd like you to tell my stenographer she can return to her work now. xou know her, I think. You'll probably find her downstairs somewhere, perhaps near the hall telephone box." "I know Miss Jonas," said Everton. "I spotted her in the hall as we were coming up, and wondered what she was hanging about there for." "She was deputising until your arrival," Dick said over his shoulder, and, with a smiling nod, hurried back to Mr. Herrings. The smile had gone from his face when he resumed the seat he had left a few minutes before, and he had shed the casual, somewhat lackadaisical, entirely disarming manner he had worn throughout the earlier part of the Interview. Mr. Herrings, looking at him, noted the change, and showed by a quick tightening of his lips that he found something surprising in the keen, purposeful man who now faced him. "Now, Air. Herrings," Dick said briskly, "we'll get down to business. You're quite right in believing that I have the letter you are so anxious to get hold of—you have worked out your problem very neatly and arrived at a

correct answer —but you are foolishly and completely wrong if you think I am going to hand the letter over to vou. If the letter is yours, you can recover it from me by process of law; if it's not yours, you can't buy it —not from me, at least—if you multiply your twenty-thousand pound offer by a hundred.! think that should conclude our interview. I am sorry if I appear terse and impolite, but it's kinder to you, I think, to speak briefly and to the point, than to waste any more of your time." Mr. Herrings inclined his head silently. Then he lifted his hat from Dick's desk and rose to his feet. Still facing Dick, he looked at him steadily, critically, for a space, while Dick, watching him with a somewhat quizzical air, found for the first time something dignified and impressive about him. His inspection of Dick's face ended, he shrugged his shoulders lightly. "That, as you say," he remarked, "concludes our interview —our present interview." He gave the word "present" so definite a stress as to impart to it a meaning which Dick could not possibly mistake. "Good-day, Mr. Leslie," he added, with a swift return to urbanity. Dick left his desk and reached the door in time to open it for him. The outer door he also opened, and when Mr. Herrings had passed through he stood and watched his leisurely progress along the corridor. When, disdaining the lift, he vanished round the stairhead turning, Dick saw Thorne appear from an upper stair where he had been keeping observation, and vanish in his turn. For a moment or two after that Dick stood in a reflective mood by his office entrance, and then, with a passing thought to Miss Jonas' delay in reappearing, he returned to his room to await Everton.

With a leg swung across the corner of his desk, he tools a cigarette from his case, and, while he smoked, reviewed the situation as it had now developed. As his mind worked his face took on a grim and serious expression. It was fairly obvious, he had to admit, that he was up against something very much bigger and more complicated than he nad imagined. It was no ordinary gang of thieves that lie had taken upon himself to fight. Money, guile, and ruthlessness were ranged against him, and he would have to walk very warily indeed with these allies to battle against. At any moment, he could see, things were likely to become much more interesting than pleasant. It was not by any means to be expected that Mr. Herrings would remain inactive, and that that enterprising individual would abandon his quest for the letter because he had failed to buy it. From the thoughts that eddied through his mind there was one only in which he could find any satisfaction. Patricia was no longer in the danger zone. By saddling himself definitely with possession of the letter, leaving Herrings in no doubt on that point, he had drawn 011 himself the dangers with which she had been threatened, and, however uncomfortable her plight at the moment might be, it was tolerably certain that she no longer was in any peril. The opening of the outer door of his office roused him from his cogitations, and, believing that it was Everton returning, ho strode from his room to meet him.

It was Everton, but not the cool, self-contained Everton with whom he had spoken a few minutes before. It was Everton disgusted and furious, his eyes flashing anger, and emanating irritation from every inch of his solid body. And behind him, with something of hang-dog-air, abashed, and self-depre-catory of eye, was Thorne. Dick looked his surprise. "He's slipped us, Mr. Leslie," Everton snapped. "Got away as clean as a whistle. He jerked an accusing thumb at Thorne. "I thought I could trust him to trail the devil himself, but this chap beats him first crack out of the box."

Dick looked gravely at the men, then turned and led the way to his private room.

"Exactly what happened?" he asked. "I couldn't help it, Mr. Leslie; no man could have done'more than I did," Thorne answered distressfully. "Your man was on the entrance steps, standing there as if he was making up his mind which direction he was going to take, when along came a swagger saloon car, and while it was still on the move, before you could 6ay 'Jack Robinson,' he was in it and on his way." "But surely, you could have followed the car," Dick suggested. "Wasn't there " "The car got away like a flash," Thorne explained. "It was no use trying to follow it on foot, and the only thing on wheels in sight was a taxicab on the move that a girl just beat me to. "I've got to be fair to Thorne," Everton remarked, his ill-humour a trifle abated. "It was not his fault. He was out of luck, and hadn't a chance from the start." Thorne gave his chief a grateful glance. "If it hadn't been for that girl " he began. "That reminds me, Mr. Leslie," Everton interrupted, and chuckled sardonically, "I don't think you need expect Miss Jonas back for a while; she's doing some amateur sleuthing. She was the girl that bagged the taxi from Thorne, and gave him something that looked like a short-armed jab because he was a bit in her way when she was getting into it." "I couldn't fight a girl for a cab." Thorne murmured defensively. "If I'd known who she was it might have been different." Serious as the situation was, Dick could not repress a smile. "We'll have to pin our hopes on Miss Jonas," he said, with a whimsical glance at Everton. "If enthusiasm counts for anything in your business, Everton, 1 can thoroughly recommend her for that quality."

CHAPTER XXIII. WHAT IS HERRINGS' GAME? "You say the man's name is Herrings," Everton said, looking thoughtfully at Dick Leslie. "Is that all you know about him?" The two were still in Dick's office. Thorne had been sent post haste to Horsham on the chance that he could pick up there the trail that had been lost in Long's accident, or that by some scarcely-to-be-hoped-for piece of luck he might happen across the man to whom Miss Jonas, Dick's secretary, had attached himself. It was perhaps a baseless idea, but Dick had convinced himself that somewhere in the neighbourhood of Horsham was the secret headquarters from which Herrings directed his conspiracy, and that there, unless it was actually the police who had removed her from the Colonnade Hotel--a theory which his solicitor's investigations had seriously damaged—• Patricia was now a prisoner. In spite of the fact that Herrings knew that , the Tuscan letter was not in her possession, his anxiety on her account was in no way diminished. Almost certainly she would he held as a hostage while the quest of the letter was pursued, perhaps used as an instrument for bargaining for it should other means of getting it fail.

Dick found Everton's questions not quite an easy one to answer. The detective would naturally expect to be told the whole story, and, needing very much his help and advice, Dick felt that he ought to relate it without reserve. To do this, however, he would have to refer to the Tuscan letter and the offer he had received for it, huthere was his difficulty-—the letter was Patricia's secret, and he had resolved that without her permission, or until he was certain that it would not injure her to do so, he would not divulge it to anyone. Wisely or not, he decided to temporise.

"I know nothing whatever about him," he replied; "I'm not even sure that his name is Herrings. Marcus Leon Herrings —that was the name he gave me; probably it's his real name, for he seemed to expect me to recognise it. Does it mean anything to you?" "I know the name, and I've never met the man," said Everton. "By George!" he exclaimed, with a swift flash of interest, "if it's really Marcus Leon himself this business of yours looks like being a bigger thing than I thought. I'm not surprised that Long ran into trouble." "Who is he exactly— what do you know about him?" Dick asked. "He's the particular big gun of the hottest financial gang in the City," Everton asserted. "There's nothing definite against him; he's been too clever up to now to get inside the law, but he and his crowd are a pretty unscrupulous lot, and they wouldn't hesitate at a bit of shady work if they saw profit in it and thought they could get away with it. I'd give something to know just what game of theirs it is that you've got on the track of; I'm ready to bet there's big money in it somewhere."

"Probably you're right; I've had something of the same idea myself," Dick remarked, leaning toward the truth as far as he deemed it prudent. "All I know and can tell you at present is that they have been shadowing a certain lady of my acquaintance, and that last night—l may be wrong, but, as my solicitor could not trace an arrest, I'm forced to believe it—they personated police officers and kidnapped her from her hotel." Incredulity showed itself on Everton's face, but it was quickly replaced by an expression of keen satisfaction. "They've stepped well over the line this time, then," he said. "We'll get them for that, if for nothing else." "If we can prove it," said Dick. "But unfortunately, I've got nothing but guess-work to go on." "We'll have the lady's evidence, if we can find her," Everton pointed out. "If we can find her," Dick repeated, unenthusiastically, "but the Lord knows what's going to happen to her before we do."

Everton nodded agreement with his pessimism. "If they've got her, I should say she's in a tight fix," he remarked; "but even so, we're not going to give up before the fight's started. It's a point in our favour that we know your man, Herrings, is at the bottom of the business— even if we've fumbled the beginning, he can't keep us long off his trail. By the way, how did you get in touch with him —what brought him here to call 011 you?" Dick was ready with his answer, knowing that sooner or later the question would come. "We were both at the Tuscan inquest—you read about it?" "1 know," Everton said," the city man who was found dead in his office."

"That's it," Dick assented. "Well, as far as 1 can make out, Herrings was rather curious to know' what I was doing at the inquest, and he followed me here to question me." Everton looked keenly at him, "And what did take you to the inquest, Mr. Leslie?" he asked. "You've have no objection to telling me, I suppose."

"None whatever, of course," Dick answered easily. "As a matter of fact, I had two reasons for going, but I only gave one of them to the coroner—that I had tried to find Mr. Tuscan at his London Wall Office, about two hours before his death in connection with a business deal in which I hoped to interest him; but my main reason was that I had an idea that Tuscan's death and the kidnapping of the lady we're looking for were in some way linked, and I hoped that something might crop up that would help me in my search for her." (To be continued daily.)