THE SIX-HOUR MYSTERY

Taranaki Daily News, 1 September 1930, Page 11

THE SIX-HOUR MYSTERY

By

ANTONY MARSDEN

“If it's a simple case of burglary,” conjectured Thornton, “the likeliest explanation is that this man Smith—whose real name I’ve traced, by the wil y lives there, and that Roper was ringing up a confederate to warn him that Smith w«<> coming back. Alternatively, the new tenant is the confederate ‘himself. It’s worth looking into either way • ■ • Has Roper said any more ?” • . “I haven’t invited him to, sir,” the sergeant replied. “No. And I don’t fancy he’ll respond if we did ... I think I’ll run out there myself,” the inspector wefit on. “I’d like to know what’s going on —and above all, why Roper thinks his victim won’t give evidence against him. But I’ve a notion that if wc turn Roper loose, hiis movements may tell us more than we shall learn by keeping him here overnight. Yes, Tynan we’ll let the beggar go.” “At once, sir?” “No. Give me a few minutes’ start. If Roper makes for Twickenham, I don’t want to run against him on the same train. You’d better follow him—you and' some other man that he does not know by sight. If he slips you, ’phone wc at Twickenham Police Station and let me know.” So it befell, not very long afterwards that Mr. Eddie Roper was informed that he wowd not be detained, and was now' at liberty. » As he walked leisurely away from the blue lamp, and sought more crowded thoroughfare, one would have thought that Mr. Roper had no business in life more urgent that to enjoy his recent enlargement. He sauntered on, his hands in his coat pockets, stopping at intervals to look in shop windows, but never turning round. By ami by he reached the entrance of an underground station, and bougnt himself a ticket to tho Mansion House, but from nbw on his movements became more peculiar. He went down in the lift, boarded a train that was just leaving, and got out at the next station but one. Here he still seemed to have tinip on his hands; he had worked through the tunnel at so dawdling a rate that he arrived at the lift-gate only just in time to slip in the grill closed. As the lift went up' he returned to his pocket the small mirror which he had consulted during this last manoeuvre. . “That dick’s right—the pocket stinks of dope,” he told himself. “I should have left this coat in the second taxi—”

Reachin o- the top, he was the first to leave the lift, and at once doubled back into the neighbouring grill and descended. Once more the little mirror came into play. Roper had crossed the lift again and emerged on the other side; but before he did so the mirror gave him a swift glimpse of a man waiting at the closed entrance-grill behind him. And he smiled to himself.

“Tynan —” he muttered. “So Number One ran up 6he stairs when lie missed my lift. Number Two waits to catch me doubling back to the trains Tynan had seen him reach the lowerlevel again—he was sure of that. Tynan would now return along the “exit” passage to the .platform, so as to pick him up when he emerged from the “entrance.” The other man racing up thcieiaergeney stairs, and finding his quarry gone, would either dash out into the street ■io look for him, or, guessing that Roper # had gone down again, would follow ii/the next lift, and talm his chance of picking.up him and Tyflan at the train .... So far the game had been played out on well-established lines. But Eddie Roper was a man of originality, and had devised his own variations of. a familiar trick. He paused in the en-trance-tunnel, figuring it out. By this time Number One was either out in the street or on his way down again; Tynan was doubtless loitering in the exit-tunnel, so as to give his quarry time to reach the platform ahead of him. The entrance-tunnel, in which Roper now stood, rau parallel with the exit-tunnel, so that he and Tynan could not sight each other - until one of them emerged on the distant platform.

But for the moment, the platform was not AIT. Roper's objective. He slipped aside through an archway and began climbing the emergency stairs towards the street.

Half-way up he paused, listening cautiously. No one could use that staircase, up or down, without being heard by him. If Tynan missed him from the platform and guessed the trick, he would make for the stairs. If the other watcher guessed that he had doubledback by the lift he would have been already running down the stairs by now. But above and below all was silence. Roper ran swiftly to the top, peered out and saw no sign of the first watcher, slipped through the lobby which at this time of evening was almost empty, and 'jumped on a passing -bus. In a few seconds he exchanged this for a taxi which was overtaking them.

“Waterloo!”-he said. All of which ingenuity, as things •turned out, was grievously wasted. Thornton walked into Twickenham police-station round ifbout 9 o’clock; and the first thing the local inspector did was to hand him the transcript of a telephone message from Sergeant Tynan, informing his senior officer that Roper had given them the slip in the underground. • But Thornton only Smiled.

“Can you lend me a plain-clothes man?” he asked.

The local inspector could. Thornton explained his errand. “I came out, really, to have a, look at that •Capri’ bungalow that I was asking, you about; I’ve an idea there’s been a burglary there, and that a mau whom Uve had under observation is mixed up in it. But ‘Capri’ can wait a little; if there’s a burglary at all, it’s all over by now. I’m much more interested to pick up the man —” “Is that the man who’s given you the slip in Loudon?” the local inspector asked dryly, nodding towards the tele-phone-memo; even Scotland Yard, his tone implied, was not always infallible. But Thornton smiled, again. has slipped my' sergeant, yes. But he’s no reason to suppose that I connect him with this district. If you can spare that plain-clothes man for half-an-hour, we’ll go back to the sta■'tion and wait for him.” PART IV. THE FOURTH HOUR. “It's late, I know —but I'd like a word with you—” Jim Nash peered forward at the man on the doorstep in well-feigned bewilderment. “I—l don’t think I recognise you, sir.” “I shan’t take long to explain myself, Mr. Smith,” the stranger assured him, quietly. “But my business is urgent.” Nash backed from the door. “Then you’d best come right in. Say, if you’ll pardon me a minute, I’ll just warn my girl I’ve a visitor.”

The big man had stepped promptly into the hall as Nash retreated, and now closed the front door behind him.

“I will wait here,” ho said, clearly. He meant to give his host no chance to go back on his invitation. Nash stepped into the living-room. Unwilling to rouse his visitor’s suspicions, he left the door ajar. Irma was standing by the window; in three steps ho was at her side, and spoke low in her ear:

“He’s coming in all right; and I don’t like the look of him. I want you to clear!” “But why—•”

“Don’t argue, for - glory’s sake,” he whispered peremptorily. . “Has your father a boat?”

“There’s a punt down there—” She stared at him, nervous and wide-eyed. “\Ve z may be watched from the road. When I make'you an opening, slip out by the kitchen door—and scoot!” “May I walk in, Mr. Smith?” The guest was evidently taking no chances; next moment he was in the room. Nash turned.

“Why, surely! This is my daughter,” he went on, and then, swiftly anticipating Irma as a sudden inspiration flashed into his mind, “but she speaks hardly any English, I’m afraid. She's been brought up abroad, you know—you’ll have to excuse her.” “By all means.”

The visitor - made Irma a formal little bow; but it was obvious that he had ro interest to spare for hey. His keen eyes roved round the room, taking, in the disorder of it; for - a moment they came to rest on Nash’s jacket, which the girl had begun to mend and Nash watched him, tensely; the more he'-saw of his new acquaintance the less he liked him.

The stranger had taken off his hat, and the strong light now fell direct on his unpleasant features. Nash saw a thick-necked, crop-headed individual of middle age; the heavy jowl clean-shav-ed, the mouth cruel and resolute; the eyes were set too’ close -together in the bread, fleshy face, the ears thick and brutal. He was,: dressed like a gentleman, as Irma’s father had foretold, and when he spoke again Nash marked a fair imitation of culture in his smooth tones.

“Perhaps your daughter will excuse us—talking business, Air. Smith? I seem to have interrupted her at springcleaning, eh?” He nodded towards the mess.

“We shan’t be in her way, sir—” Nash closed the door. As he passed round his visitor to do so, the latter’s tightly-buttoned jacket betrayed a telltale bulge on the hip which the American’s keen eyes noted. And too late, Nash wondered if iu shouldering the mysterious Russian’s affairs he were not up against a tougher proposition than he had bargained for. But at least the visitor had come alone, whether ,or not he had left friends to watch his operations from the roadway opposite. As for Irma, Nash was already congratulating himself that he Ji tt( l provided' for her retreat. If there were trouble—well, he had committed himself now; and he, at any rate, had his plan ready made, to get the girl out of the way before the fun began. Aleanwliile the stranger helped himself to a seat, sitting down straddlelegged upon an upright chair with his aims folded before him on the back of it, and faced Nash warily. • “We can talk, then?” he jerked out with a glance towards Irma. “Certainly. I’m hoping you’ll explain —” Nash’s eyes were on Irma, too. She had resumed work on his jjacket. Something about her pose warned Nash that she was listening tensely; yet she hud had the wit to take tlie hint about her lack of English, and spoke never a word. “What about telling me what I can do for you at this odd time of night?” Nash inquired blandly. “I guess you know that, Air. Karin!” was the steady reply. “So that’s my name!” thought Nash. And aloud: “I—say, I beg your pardon ?”

“You see, I happen to know who you aye,” the stranger went on. “You know more than I do, don’t you?” And Nash laughed pleasantly. “I’m afraid, sir, you’re making some mistake. Some previous tenant here, perhaps? I’ve only just arrived. Aly name’s Smith—John Smith.”

But the stranger did not stir. “Don’i play the dam fool, Karin,” he court sei led quietly. (To be Continued).