ANNOUNCER'S HOLIDAY

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXV, Issue 23040, 18 May 1938, Page 25

ANNOUNCER'S HOLIDAY

(COPYRIGHT)

By VAL GIELGUD ' Woll-known radio dramatist and author of "Beyond Dover," etc.

A VOICE, KNOWN TO MILLIONS OF 8.8.C. LISTENERS, BELONGS TO A YOUNG MAN WHO HAS BEEN GRANTED A MONTH'S HOLIDAY. ON THAT VACATION MANY THINGS HAPPEN.

CHAPTER XXIII. PAETT OF FIVE The secret room behind the bookcases in Caßimir Konski's house was not only secret from the outside. It was also peculiar from the inside. It was not very big. But it was not its comparative smallnesa that made the individual who entered it for the first time catch his breath, and appreciate immediately the meaning of the word claustrophobia. It was not even that the room had no windows-r-for curtained imitations of windows had been carefully included in the room's design. It was due to a fact which Geoffrey Allardyce was uniquely capable of appreciating. And he realised it at once. For the odd feeling of a certain breathlessness, of a slight humming in the ears, and a disagreeable sense of imprisonment, were just those symptoms experienced by the visitor to two of the special dramatic studios in Broadcasting House. It was indeed in one of those two specially treated studios that the actor Parsons had been strangled in the celebrated murder case. The symptoms were caused by a special "padding" treatment applied to the walls of the studios to make them absolutely "dead'' —to deprive them of any natural quality of resonance. This treatment was used in the Broadcasting House studios for purposes of radio-dramatic technique necessitated by the peculiarities of the microphone. It had been presumably used in Casimir Konski's house to avoid the danger of movement and conversation in the secret room becoming audible to persons moving about the normal parts of the dwelling. But whatever the reason, it was an unpleasant addition to the circumstances of the case. Casimir, of course, remained profoundly unaffected, except that he did not smoke, and apologised for not offering tobacco to his guests. "The ventilation is not jquite everything it should be, I fear," he explained. But both Charles Bland and Geoffrey fett most frighteningly trapped, and if expression of feature meant anything Greta Mahler felt much the same. She was sitting miserably onough on the edge of a leather-covered sofa, and resolutely refused to meet Geoffrey's eve. In place of a fire the fireplace contained an electric stove. Xavier stood in front of it, his lips dangerously twisted, tapping his stick gently against the side of his right shoe. "I fancy I've had about enough of this, Casimir," ho said angrily. "I've other things to do with my time than waste it on young folks like your friends here! Besides —one of them has been annoying this ladv with his — attentions, is the word they use in the suburbs, isn't it, Mr. Allardyce ?" "I regret, Highness, but this meeting is very necessary," said Casimir. There was nothing languid about his voice now. "You say this —to me? I think you are forgetting yourself, Casimir." "I am only asking Your Highness to remember that there are other matters in question beside your personal, affairs. It is my duty to remind you of that fact. Must I add a reminder of another?" "You're not my tutor, Casimir 1" "No, Highness. At the moment I am your elder and better, and engaged on considerable affairs, I must ask you, and Miss Mahler, ajid these two gentlemen, to give me close and exact attention." "Well? You shall answer to me for this later." "With pleasure," and Casimir made a little stiff' bow. "Now kindly attend to me. This matter of Miss Mahler must end —now, here, in this room. And you, Mr. Allardyce, and you, Mr. Bland, must give me your word, not to mix yourselves up any further with any of my affairs, or the affairs of any of the other persons in this room at' this moment." For a moment no one spoke. Then Xavier laughed, and Greta looked up at him with the tragic eyes of a cornered rabbit. "Suppose we refuse?" she asked. "Suppose we tell you to go to hell!" snarled Xavier. "I shall have to kill you!" said Casimir quietly. Xavier laughed again. "You're oldfashioned if you think you can frighten me with that sort of theatrical stuff," he said. "It dates, my good Casimir, back to anv more " "I am speaking the exact truth and nothing more," said Casimir, coldly. "I have been a little clumsy. I am getting old, you see. One thinks less precisely as one ages. It is tiresome. So now I am pushed to a distasteful extreme, which I much regret on general grounds. I can afford not more margin of error. That is why, if you refuse to be sensible,, you will havo to be killed. You need not worry. It shall be done as simply and painlessly as posfliblo n "Oh, for heaven's sake!" burst out Geoffrey. "In a minute you'll have proved conclusively to us that in the immediate future we'll bo better oft and happier in our graves!" . , "You well may be;" said Casimir gravely. "I anticipate a European war in that immediate future." Greta dropped back, huddled into a comer of the sofa, so white that Geoffrey feared she must be going to faint. He crossed the room toward her, and the movement broke up the grouping of the party as a flung pebble breaks the smooth surface of a pond. The girl opened her eyes and thrust out one hand as if to hold Geoffrey away from her. But the prince, with a savage twist of his wrist, whipped the sword-blade clear of its stick-sheath. Charles Bland cried out, and Casimir caught him by the wrist. , "This Isn't 'The Three Musketeers nor vet 'The Prisoner of Zenda,' he said coldly. "Your Highness was good enough now to term me off; and Xavier hurled tho weapon clattering into the fireplace. ''This has goiio fnr ©ifoughj lie sjud. "Miss Mahler and I leave at onco. "And how will Your Highness go? "As I came—-in my car The chauffeur had orders to wait." 800 a' 1 "Are you ready, Greta?" asked Xavier, picking up her fur-coat. "I'm afraid it'll be a long drive. But Greta did not move. She was passing, almost' as if hypnotised, at (Jasimir Konski. "I am sorry, Highness," said the latter. "But your car is at tho moment In the hands of the police." "What in the name of all devils! The police can't touch me!" "Tne police, Highness, in Great Britain, are always interested in the crime of wilful murder." "Murder!" stammered Geoffrey.

And Char es Bland flushed crimson.' Casimir, however, took no notice of them

"Your chauffeur, Highneßs, has been murdered —that is all. The police have discovered the body still in your car. I doubt if they would be prepared to let you Wave in it to-night. Even if I were," he added softly. "Nonsense. Who should harm the fellow ? And how do you know, Casimir?" '• "It is my business to know things before other people do. It's my accomplishment, and my bread and butter, I know, I assure you." Xavier stooped and recovered his swordstick with a swift movement. "What you really mean, Casimir, is that you, or one of your thugs, killed him—isn't it?" "I don't deny," said Casimir, contemptuously, "that it has occurred conveniently. But if I had killed the. man, you can take it from me that the police would not have found the body. They will not, in certain eventualities, find your bodies." "You seriously threaten my safety? "With regret, yes, Highness. I have no alternative." The conversational duel between Casimir and the prince had begun, for Geoffrey, to take on- something of the unreality of a play seen from the front row of the stalls. All his genuine interest and feeling were for the gin, who still refused to look at hini; the girl who sat there, white and drawn and silent, so that every nerve m hi# body ached with pitv and longing for her; the girl whom he loved. But for Charles Bland the conversation was very real indeed. It seemed to Charles that for the first time ho was getting a glimpse below the surface of a very deep and dark business. ... Xavior mado 110 attempt to conceal any longer that he had lost control of his temper. "In short," he broke out, "they were right, those friends of mine who warned mo that vour coming to put a spoke in the wheel of my private affairs, was to do with something very different! "You are what I would never have believed a Polish gentleman could become; an organiser of assassination 1 Casimir spread out his hands deprecatingly. "My morals, if you will forgive me, Highness, are strictly my own affair." "You have ceased to interest me in any capacity," retorted Xavier, rather superbly thought Geoffrey. "What do you mean to force mo to do —join vour paid gangsters in the streets during the procession to St. Paul's?" "You will bid this young lady a formal and final good-bye. You will then be at liberty to leave the I can assure you that the English police will not stop you." "You suggest that I cut and run, as they say in this country?" "'Your Highness has caught my meaning precisely." , , Xavier looked at Casimir, then at Greta Mahler. "I'll see you damned first!" he said at last. "I can only express my very sincere regret," said Casimir. "and now, Mr. Allardyce, what about yourself and Mr. Charles Bland?" "Charles," said Geoffrey hoarsely, "can speak for himself. I don't some,how see myself leaving this lady alone ill these surroundings. ' "Oh, please, Geoffrey—go away! cried Greta But Geoffrey shook his head, and Charles Bland'thrust a hand through his arm. . "This is becoming tiresome, said Casimir, "and frankly I have no more timeuto TKaste.. I have bigger .fish to ffy. You and your love affair have served my turn, Highness, as an adequate cover and explanation for my visit to this country. I had hoped to fulfil both mv missions simultaneously —the lesser with the greater. You will not have it so. Very well, I told you the alternative." (To be continued daily)