“The Phantom Killer”

Taranaki Daily News, 28 November 1934, Page 13

“The Phantom Killer”

or “Ann’s Adventure In Crime

By

COLIN HOPE.

CHAPTER 1 (Continued). “No, Mr. Frame, don’t do that. Don’t, They’d kill me. I’ll tell you anything you want to' know if you’ll let me go. Anything—but not now, not now, Mr. Frame. . . His voice tailed off into a thin wail. For the moment the detective forgot all his training, all his experience. His surprise was so great that he seemed incapable of any action. Obviously Willie was mixed up* with something or somebody the like of which he had never known before, and was terrified. He had “shopped” many a fellow criminal before without turning a hair, yet now the mere mention of a police station was Sufficient to make him hysterical with fear. Was Willie connected withe THE gang? The question flashed through the detective’s mind. The obvious thing to do was to take him along for interrogation. Frame looked up and raised his hand to call a taxi that was cruising along towards them. He put out his hand to open the door, and was startled when the door was flung open and he found himself looking into the business end

of a revolver. “Step inside Willie,” ordered a voice, “And * you, Mister Frame, stay just where you are—l don’t like policemen, understand.” Willie shrank back. He was trembling - from head to foot. His eyes darted, left and right, seeking some way of escape, but the hand holding the revolver came forward a little further. „ “Inside, Willie,” the man hissed, or I’ll drop you where you stand.” Willie did as he was ordered, and the car disappeared around a corner before Frame could do more than sound his whistle. In a very short time London was being scoured for the taxi, but, although every available 'officer joined in the search, no trace of it had been when, some hours later, Frame sought an interview with his superior. “And so you think that Will, is mixed up with the gang,” said the Assistant Commissioner, when Frame had told his story. “I am sure of it. What else would account for his being so afraid of being brought in? He was a thief, a J lar > a traitor to his kind, and everything that was rotten, but I have never known him to be afraid of us. The. information he gave us guaranteed him a certain amount of immunity, and he knew it and traded on it. Besides, he knew just how far we can go with a suspect. He wasn’t afraid of coming in; he was afraid of the interpretation that others might put upon his visit.” . “Then why was he following you. He was doing so, I suppose. Frame nodded. “He was. I suppose that was his job. They may have an idea that I am on the job, and have set him to keep an eye on me. Though why they should use him I can’t imagine. Almost every crook knows him, and knows he can’t be trusted.” Geoffrey agreed. “If they employ men like Willie they are not such a smart crowd as I feared,” he said. “There is another z possibility. Somebody might have saved up a grudge for him. I will get Davidson on that trail. He can go through the records of all those Willie has helped to put away. We might learn something interesting. Frame knew’ that this was. no light task he "was giving, his assistant. It meant days of patient inquiry. Dozens of mens’ records would have to be gone through, and their movements traced ■ from the time they left prison. It might take months. Perhaps a dozen or more could be traced quite easily. Some undoubtedly were back in gaol, but one might lead him from one end of the country to the other, and even necessitate inquiries of half the police forces of the world. However, such is the lot of detectives, and Frame knew that Davidson would do his job, and that in due course the information he wanted would be in his hands, although it might be quite valueless when he had it. There would probably be many other wearying investigations that would yield no tangible result before he was able to put his hands on the information he wanted. Frame left the Yard, feeling that he had to wait until the other side made a fresh mbve before he could Start. Had he been able to hold Willie he might have learned something. All he could hope for was that the little informer would soon be found. Otherwise he would have to go back to the murder of Happy Ford, and start from there. He knew, however, that there was little more to be learned in that direction. He turned into his rooms a little dispirited. He had, he knew, the opportunity of his career, and yet he knew not where to start on his job. . He had been in but a few minutes when the telephone rang urgently, and he took up the receiver, hopefully. It Was Geoffrey speaking: “We’ve found Willie,” he . said. “But I don’t suppose he’ll tell you much. They put six bullets into Him, and they are all in his head. A platelayer found him over a railway embankment just outside Sidcup.” “Thank you, sir,” Frame answered wearily. “I’ll get along aS fast as I can.” CHAPTER' 2. _ ANN’S STRANGE MISSION. Ann Wingrave was feeling far. from happy. A great many girls, alone in the world,, and working many hcurs for a mere pittance, would have envied her post with Octavius Sept, the well-known financier.

Her hours of work were few, and her duties light. There were times, in fact, when she wondered if her services were of any great value to -the financier. It was neither the lightness of her duties nor the fact that her salary was ridiculously high that was responsible for the fact that she was unhappy.

Sept, the man who had engaged her when she was practically without experience, and for no apparent reason, had hitherto treated her as an employee expected to be treated, but she had noticed a change in him, and she was woman enough to know the cause of that change. Octavius was regarding her not as an employee, but as a woman, and Ann knew well enough that she was a very attractive young woman. When she entered the lift in the palatial buildings that bore her employer’s name, she had a feeling that things were going to happen, and that they were not to be pleasant things. She felt prepared for anything. She was not, however, prepared for the first happening that awaited her. The lift was automatic, but there was always an attendant on duty. Often .t had struck Ann as odd that a man Should be employed so unnecessarily. Someone had once mentioned it in the hearing of her employer, and he had mumbled something about giving work to a friend of his boyhood. At the time it had seemed strange to Ann that a cultured man as Sept undoubtedly was should have been a friend of such a strange old man as “Old Jack” the liftman.

On this particular morning, Ann entered the lift as usual and waited for the ascent. The doors clanged, but the lift did not move, and when it dawned on her that something was amiss, she looked up from the paper she was reading and was amazed to see the old liftman gazing at her uneasily. On his usually pallid face there was a deep flush, and he swung his cap nervously in his hands. THE LIFTMAN’S WARNING. “What is the matter?” Ann asked in some alarm, “is anything wrong with the lift?” “No, miss,” the old man mumbled. “The lift, that’s all right. It’s about Sept. If he.tries any tricks, don’t you worry. Don’t throw up the job. Just tell me, I’ll see to it.” , Before the astonished girl could reply, he turned back to the switch, mumbling, as the lift shot upwards, “That’s all, just tell ‘Old Jack’.” The incident disturbed Ann more than she cared to admit. It seemed impossible to take the old man seriously. Like every other member of the staff, she had regarded him almost as an article of the office furniture. When she had first met him she had greeted him, on entering and leaving the lift, but he had seldom responded, and gradually his boorishness had Overcome her natural courtesy, and not for many months had so much as a “Good morning” passed between them. If . she uttered such a greeting, he certainly had not replied. And now he was taking a lively interest in her welfare. It seemed as if he realised as much as she did that Sept was beginning to overstep the border-line which divided rectitude and undersirable familiarity. Moreover, it was very strange that he should suggest that she should go to him if things went wrong. It was as if he knew as well as she that she was alone in the world and had nobody to-turn-to in trouble.Strange. And more strange the suggestion that he was in a position to help her. Knowing Sept as she did, she realised very few men dare stand in mis way, and it seemed incomprehensible that the old liftman could do anything. It was more likely that he would be thrown out of the building if he dared to raise his voice to Sept. ■ Her second surprise was of a far more pleasant nature. Sept greeted her in a most business-like way. There was no trace of the underlying familiarity which he had gradually introduced into his manner with her, and her sigh of relief when she realised that he had taken a fresh grip of himself was almost audible. Later in the morning she was summoned to Sept’s office to take down letters. She always hated this work, as it took her from the protecting company of the other clerks, and his first words after she had closed the ddor behind her did not contribute much to her feeling of security. “Sit down, Miss Wingrave, he said, “I have no letters, but I have something to say to you.” Ann trembled inwardly, but there was no tremor in her voice when she answered, simply, “Yes, sir.” “You will appreciate,” ho said, somewhat hesitatingly, “that we do not pay you a very high salary and treat you as a highly favoured employee for your services as a clerk.” “I hope my work is satisfactory,’ Ann answered hastily. “If there is any way f can be of greater value to. the firm—' For a moment she had visions of another horrible period of unemployment, with its interminable tramping from one place to another, and the maddening reiteration of regrets that there was no vacancies. Sept waved his hands deprecatingly. “Oh, no, Miss Ann—pardon, Miss Wingrave—there is nd suggestion that you are not worth the money we are paying you. We think that you will be of even greater value to us. “You have, as it were, been, under observation —on trial. It is essential that we have someone whom we can trust implicitly, and we are sure that you arc the person we have been searching for.

(To be continued.)