THE SIX-HOUR MYSTERY

Taranaki Daily News, 15 August 1930, Page 14

THE SIX-HOUR MYSTERY

By

ANTONY MARSDEN

"When he gets out shadow him the usual way —you and I, relaying each other. But if we get separated, or look like losing him, then the one nearest had best tackle him and invite him round for a chat. It it is Eddie Roper I don’t fancy’ he’ll refuse.” “Not when he finds th’at he’s been shadowed,” the sergeant agreed; then, tensely, gripping his superior’s knee — “Look, sir, the door! Is that your man?” But Thornton’s eyes were already fixed keenly in that direction. Througn the big swing doors had emerged the gentleman whom he knew as John Smith, a young girl with him. The pair crossed the pavement, entered a taxi which the’ commissionaire had just hailed for them, and at once drove oft. A second later the taxi immediately in front of Thornton’s’ began to move. Thornton’s own driver must have had liis orders before, for he let in his clutcn and followed suit. The first taxi headed straight for Trafalgar Square;, out the second, wheeling across the road, crawled through the yard gates of the station. - “But he’s not following them!” the sergeant exclaimed. ’ As he spoke, a man’s arm protruded from the window of the cab in front, pointing towards the corner of the station square. - . • ? • ■ “He’s going to ’phone,” Inspector Thornton hazarded. ;“If he. does. tacKle him as soon as he comes out oi the box,

while I. talk to exchange—” He tapped lightly on the glass, and T their taxi stopped. Meanwhile the other had gone on, to pull up in the corner of the square by a line of call-boxes. Thornton was already on the pavement. ' some yards away; and while the occupant of the first taxi was still settling - his -fare, the-inspector walked past him with averted face and entered the nearest of the boxes. He did not turn his head, but the‘reflection j in the side window showed him the man he sought, making for the call-box next but one to his otfn. . “Supervisor, please — look sharp!” Thornton demanded; and a few moments later: “That you, Merrick? Inspector Thorntori speaking . .. There’s a man putting through a call in the next box but one. Can you find out what number he gets on to? . . , Thanks very much —!” •'

■ Meanwhile the detective sergeant, having paid off his taxi in turn, loitered on the kerb. He had not long to wait. In a few minutes he saw the man in trio farther box hang up his instrument, emerge, and saunter away. But in the station,porch the sergeant overtook him. and tapped him on the arm. “Forgotten your old friend, Eddie?” he inquired pleasantly. The man turned and recognised him ■with a perceptible start. But his one was jovial /'Hough, as lie replied; “Why, Mr. Tynan —Sergeant Tynan, now to t>« sure! " Still at it, then? And trade brisk, I hope?” -■ “Care to walk round to Bow Street with me, Eddie?” v “What for?” ' “Inspector Thornton, wants a ehat with you—you remember him?” The other man grinned. “Even if I didn’t I wouldn't worry any!. What’s th row?” . ‘ ' ■ “Some fellow's been getting himself doped in a taxi-cab, and the inspector' thinks you may be able to help us. I’ve been hanging" round the Golden Calf quite a while, waiting my chance to snatch a word with you when you were disengaged —” ; This last shot told. “All right, I’ll come.”

Inspector Thornton, having completed his business in the call-box, watched them leave the yard. At its lower end a scavenger was at work, his barrow standing near the gateway. As * the two men walked down the slope. Thornton observed that the. suspect’s hand was furtively extracting some object from the pocket of his. overcoat, on the side remote from Tynan, and just as. they turned through the gate the hand came out u >btrusively and dropped this object into the scavenger's box. ■ Thirty seconds later Thornton picked it out. It was a folded Trilby hat, jvith a generous allowance of brim.' Thornton sniffed at its curiously. “T’wont smell no better for being in there, master,” the amused scavenger commented. • “I think it smells fine —” returned Thornton, whimsically; and stowing the hat away inside the breast of his jacket, he followed on towards Bow Street. ; There he found Sergeant Tynan and the other awaiting him. “Evening, Roper!” he nodded cheerfully. “Good evening. Mr. Thornton. Pleased to meet you again!” Eddie Roper seemed quite at ease. “I’m going to question you about an incident that took place in a taxicab, rather less than an hour ago. Any objections?” , ' - ' “Why, no.” “I daresay Sergeant Tynan’s already mentioned it?” “He has. But I’m no wiser.” The inspector looked him up and down. “Taken to wearing glasses since I saw you last, haven’t you?” “Can’t be too careful of my eyesight, Mr. Thornton!” the other returned. “It’s worth a lot to me" “And you’ve been buying yourself a nice new bowler, too?” Eddie Roper shrugged. “Ah, yes. We aren’t all lucky enough to have our clothes found for us.” “I’ve just found one item, for you, anyway,” Thornton informed him, and pulled out the Trilby. “This is the hat that you’ve discarded, I think?” The pirn’s eyes fastened on it. “Well? What if it is?" “Funny! It smells' ■of chloroform. Can you account for that?” Roper shook his head. “It might smell of lots of funny things, coming out of a scavenger’s barrow." “Or coming out of your coat pocket, eh? Anything to say?" There was a fiause. Then Thornton went on. quiety: “I’m going to detain you on suspicion of being concerned in an assault on a Mr. John Smith by chloroforming him in a taxi-cab between 5.30 and 6 this evening. Come, Eddie, you may aa well make a clean breast of it. before the smell inside the pocket of that coat gives you away!’ But' once more the suspected man merely shook his head. “You're wasting your time, laddie." “I don’t agree with you. Care to make a statement?’’ Eddie Roper sal down, stretched out

hii legs in comfort, and pulled out a cigarette. “Got a match, Inspector? Thanks. Now, see here. You’ve got it all fixed' »p in your own mind that I doped this fellow; you’re going to kid yourself that you smell chloroform on the lining of my pocket; but you can’t go before a jury on what you think. And there’s one thing you've overlooked.” “Oh? What's that?” “Identification." “You’re -lot forgetting I’ve seen the man, and can find out his address?” “And that’s about all you will find out, (Mr. Thornton! If you knew any more of Mr. blooming Smith, you’d know you could confront u« till you were black in the face, without persuading him to identify me . . And he added, cheerfully: “If you want something really interesting to put into that statement of yours, just make a note of that!”

Meanwhile, the taxi that, took Irma and her ally from the Golden Calf Hotel pulled up in the station yard at Waterloo. The American jumped out.

. “Wait here', ” he told the driver; adding swiftly: “How soon can you get us to° Twickenham? ..Half an hour?"

■ • “What, in this fogy guv-nor? Not a hope! Nor I wouldn’t like, to try, neither—.’’ Clearly, the prospect of such a drive on such a day held no appeal for. him.. “If you’re in a hurry, sir, it’s long odd's you'll do it quicker by train.”

“From here?” “That’s right! , . , Thank you, sir; much obliged!" The American paid him liberally, and reopened the door for the girl. “This fellow allows we’d better go by rail; but we’ve no time to lose. See now, will you look round and find the train while I get tickets?'. Meet, you outside tlie baggage-depot —cloak room, whatever they call it—in thrfee minutes; I’ve something to pick up. there—." Maybe the fear of missing the first train was alone what prompted him; or maybe he was loth to alarm the girl, by let-ting her know what business took him to the left luggage barrier.' For having unlocked a Gladstone bag which he had deposited there, he took out and swiftly transferred to his side-pocket a neat and business-like revolver. A moment later the girl touched his arm. “There’s a train leaving in two minutes,” she said.

They ran. At suqh a time of so unpromising an evening the train was half empty,'arid they had a compartment to themselves. The man inspected his purse. “Maybe your father’ll have some change?” he asked. “This cleans me out. I’ve nothing .left but dollar bills, but I didn't want to wast time changing them.” She looked at him with new interest as their train Mattered out across the shrouded river. “You’re an American too. then?” she exclaimed, “And just arrived in England?” ‘ “Yes.” He smiled grimly. “They all guess it, first go.”

“But what -a queer coincidence!. I mean, vou likeness to mv father, and—.” '

But he interrupted her. “Maybe .'t's not such a cast-iron coincidence as you think, Miss Irma.” And then, with growing embarrassment: “For intsance, I've a—l’ve a sort of aivkwardish confession for you, arid I’m going to make it right now. My name's not John Smith at all. It’s Nash. Jim Nash. I’m an American, sa'me as your father. And you say I'm like him—” ■ “You’re —you’re' uncannily like him,'’._ she agreed. “But there the coincidence, ends,” Mr., Nash resumed. “I’m not-a member of the great Smith clan, and I never was. I just loaned your family' name/ in ignorance.” “But why?” The girl still Stared at him, with a fascination, in which (had Tn been less preoccupied with.his confession) he might have detected'also a certain amount of embarrassment.

“That's what I’ve' got to tell-, yon now —bv way of apology. You know some already,. . . I was mutt enough to let myself be'doped, in a taxi-cab. When I woke up in the hotel they were all on at me —the police, and the. manager, and a darned jackanapes with a camera, wantincr to mug me for the murderpage o? the daily Press. That got jn« kind of wild; and when I found I’d not been robbed or anything, I allowed I'd had lesson enough, without being treated like Exhibit A in a crime case. . So I sat up and told them where to geDoff at; told them my name was just John Smith, and if they didn’t like that they could go to blazes.” For the first time she smiled. “And then I came—?’’

The young man’s embar "aesment increased. “They sent up word my daughter was asking for me. I’ve' got no daughter. Haven’t even collected a wife, up to now. I —l made sure it was just some trick . . . but when 1 met yon I began to think I’d made a mistake; and when you told me thia queer yarn about my likeness to your father, and the message you’d had, and all —why, I was dead sure. I allowed you’d never have tried out such a story as that if you’d wanted to take me in!” “But you do believe me—” “Sure. Isn’t that what I’m telling you? Only, if I was kind of rude to you at the first go off maybe you’ll make allowances,” he pleaded humblv“Or maybe, if I’ve the hick to help you now, you’ll let that square the account?”

“Oh, you’ve been nothing but kind to me, Mr.—Nash!” she assured him gratefully, taking his outstretched hand. ° “Better make it Jim-*-for short,” he smiled. But the girl did not seem to hear; and as Nash moved his arm he saw a look of astonishment in her eyes. “Your sleeve!” she cried, pointing. “No, lift your arm—oh, look!” Beneath his upper arm, from armpit to elbow, a long clean slit had been made in his jacket sleeve. He raised the other arm, and found that sleeve slit likewise. “What the— l Say, this is all part of the game? The chap who doped, me in that cab had a real busy five minutes!” i

“I’ll mend it for you at home —if we find all quiet,”, she smiled nervously. Their talk returned to the events which had sent them on their present errand. “And you don’t really think my father has come to any harm?” she asked.

Nash shook his head. “I think what I told you in the hotel. Your father was. meant to be laid by the heels tor

awhile, and yourself sent after him.” “But why?” “That’s what we’re going to find out, isn’t it? I hope we’ll find your father home, and this—this joke knocked on the head, whatever it is.” “And if not?” “Why,- if not—,” he wanted to put

her at her ease, but he was all the while alertly conscious of the drag of the gun in his side-pocket—“if not, we’ll have to shape our plans when we get there.”, And after a little silence: “What sort of place have you at Twickenham, anyway?” “Only a four-roomed bungalow.”

“Worth breaking into? Jewellery, or anything like that?” “Oh, no!” He had scarcely thought so. This girl—this child, for she seemed hardly m ore —was not the type to load herself with expensive jewellery, least of all on a river-holiday. And yet if burglary

were not the aim—? Puzzling, he recalled the oddest point about his own share in the business, when he had depu-. tised for the unknown Mr. Smith in the I taxi-cab; he had not been robbed . , . I He put another question to the girl— I lightly enough, yet with a secret curi-; ; osity which he found hard to veil: “Has

your father any friends—some Bright Young People, say—who might, have staged this game on hint and you to their, idea of a joke?" “He has no friends in England.”