“The Phantom Killer”

Taranaki Daily News, 29 November 1934, Page 15

“The Phantom Killer”

or “Ann’s Adventure In Crime”

By

COLIN HOPE.

CHAPTER 2 (Continued). SEPT’S INSTRUCTIONS “You will understand,” he went on confidentially, “that in a business such as ours, handling tremendous sums of money daily, there are many things that must be done with the utmost secrecy. Even a rumour of some of our major operations would be enough to upset stock markets in all parts of the world. It is not too much to say that there are times when, should anything go wrong, this firm might easily cause an international crisis.”

Ann had doubts, though she did not express them. She knew that the firm put through some very big deals, and that there were whispers—ugly whispers sometimes —about some of the operations negotiated by Sept, but She failed to agree that these deals were of outstanding importance. She did not voice her doubts, but merely murmured that she was sure that she could be discreet in matters concerning the business of the firm, and that she was sure that she never gave away any secrets that were given into her keeping.

Sept smiled in an almost fatherly way. “I’m’sure we can trust you, Miss Wingrave, and now We come to what we want you to do. You may think that our precautions are strange, but I can assure you that they are essential.

“The position is that some very valuable securities are to be transferred to us, and it is absolutely necessary that the transference shall not be known to anybody. “Your part will be to go by car as far as Staines. You will not attempt to learn the identity of your driver or to let him know who you are. You meet another car at an appointed spot near Staines, which your driver will know how to recognise, and you will be handed a bag containing the securities. These you will bring straight to these offices.” Ann sensed a subtle change in his tone as he went on. There was nothing definite. He was still a business man giving careful instructions to a trusted employee. But the soft caressing tones in which he usually spoke were gradually being ousted by something harder and far more deadly. His eyes became hard and bright. “I think you understand, Miss Wingrave,” he concluded, “that we rely implicitly on your strict observance of our orders. After you have delivered the bag to mo you will forget that you ever went to Staines. We will pay well for faithful service, but We cannot tolerate failure.” There was a definite threat in. his last words, and Ann shuddered slightly, “When do I start?” she asked. “In about an hour’s time. About one o’clock. The car will call here for you. Now tro{. along and get a little lunch; you have just enough time. Eat well,” the hardness had gone and he was again the genial, indulgent employer, "so that you can enjoy your country ride, and be thankful that you are not tied to the grindstone as I am.” In spite of Sept’s advice, Ann ate a sparing lunch. She was strangely excited, and food did not appeal to her. She told herself that there was no cause for excitement. It was not unusual for trusted clerks to be sent on confidential errands, and although for one wild moment she connected the secret journey with something illegal, the fact that she was to travel in broad daylight made her idea seem ridiculous. Yet, was it so ridiculous? The daylight hours were not free from crime. In fact, some of the most daring and successful raids were carried out tn broad daylight. AN UNCANNY DRIVE. The appearance of her driver di£ not tend to lessen her half-formed fears. He made no attempt to leave his seat to open a door for hen and left the kerb with a roar before she was seated. It was some minutes before she recovered her composure, and by that time they were far from the Sept building, and racing through streets that were strange to her. She turned to study her companion; a short, stocky individual, none too well dressed, with a big cap pulled far down over his face, yet failing to hide the fact that he had not shaved for some days. His mouth was heavy and brutal, and his great width of shoulders and depth of chest indicated tremendous strength. Ann trembled -anew as she realised that she was more or less at the mercy of this man, and once again wild fears flashed through her mind.

She thought of. her last interview with Sept, and as she analysed it, she became more and more conscious of a sense of unreality. Secrecy she could understand, but she felt almost like an actor in some Gilbertian comedy. She was sure that there was some deep plot beneath all the elaboration, and she wondered if she was the victim of it. Was she being abducted? For a moment she was almost panicstricken, and began to make wild plans to call for help, but soon she became calmer, and although still far from comfortable in her mind, settled down to try to enjoy the ride. _ However unprepossessing the driver, he certainly knew how to handle the car. It was a first-class sports model with a wonderful turn of speed, and it was not long before Staines was reached. The car did not slow down, and her fears were again aroused when they went through the town without a stop. About a mile further on, however, they pulled up, and the driver got out to fix a big mascot on the bonnet. Hardly had he done this when another car overtook them, and stopped. Without ceremony, a man jumped from the second car, and after a glance at the< mascot, threw a bag into Anne’s lap.

No words were spoken by either party, and Ann’s driver removed the mascot—obviously used for indentification —got back into his seat, and drove off on the return journey.

However much Ann was troubled by the strangeness of the journey, it Was obvious that her doubts were not Shared by the driver. He ■ orked as an automaton. He did his job with consummate skill. He knew that he had to drive a car to a certain spot, and bring it back to London, and he did not ask to know more. At least, so it seemed to the girl. She sat and watched him with some interest, but failed to notice any change of expression throughout the ride. He drove fast, but not recklessly—it was not part of his job to invite attention.

Gradually Ann was lulled into a sense of security. The job, she had almost decided, was just an ordinary business errand and she was just stupid, hysterical girl to imagine that there might be some sinister purpose behind' it all. Then she realised that something was wrong. THE CRASH. They were travelling at a good pace along a stretch of open road, when a police patrol suddenly appeared alongside. The policeman gave an unmistakable signal, but instead of stopping, the driver of the car just glanced at the policeman, then pressed hard on the accelerator. The sudden turn cf speed took away Ann’s breath, and when she realised that the driver was deliberately trying to shake ofl’ the patrol, her worst fears were realised. “Why don’t you stop?” she shouted at the driver.

“Shut your mouth, and sit tight,” was his only reply, and he bent lower over the wheel.

The big car leapt along the road like a thing possessed. Only the driver’s uncanny skill and a large amount of luck saved them from disaster a dozen times in as many minutes.

The hunt was up in earnest. Looking back, Ann saw the police vehicle drop a man at a telephone box, and thereafter policemen, with varying degrees of bravery, attempted to stop £he, car’s ihad progress.

There was only one possible end to such madness. One policeman, more clever—or lucky—than the rest, threw his truncheon true. Ann was conscious of a splintering of glass, then a wild swerve. The car tipped drunkenly, and she Was impelled forward and upwards. She was conscious of a final shattering crash, she felt herself sinking down .... down. ...

SUPT. FRAME RECEIVES A SHOCK.

Superintendent Frame gazed at the wreckage of the car. “The man is dead?” he asked, and when the inspector nodded, he added “And the woman?” , “Oh, she’s not too badly hurt. She’ll be fit in a fortnight or three' weeks’ time. She’s shaken up, of course, but there are no bones broken. The doctor says she had a nasty crack on the head, and will be in hospital for a while, but she should make a good recovery.”

“Pretty piece, too,” the inspector mused. “Strange her being mixed up in an affair like this.” “Never trust to looks,” Frame answered sagely. He was thinking of a madonna-faced murderess whom he had been instrumental in bringing to book: “Anyway, I’m thankful she’s alive. That’s the first piece of luck I’ve had on this case.

“Two murders, and not the ghost ot a clue. Not to mention half-a-dozen big robberies. There’s a smart gang running this job. You had better see that the girl is closely watched, or something will be happening to her.” “Two men are on the hospital premises and a matron is at her bedside day and night,” the inspector answered. Frame had been working, with little success, and almost hopelessly, on the murder of “Willie” when news reached him of the smash and the finding of a bag of stolen banknotes among the wreckage. In less than half-an-hour he had reached the scene of the accident, and had learned all that the local police could tell him.

The driver of the car had been killed, and his companion—a girl—had been injured and taken to Whitsbury Cottage Hospital, where she lay, unconscious. The money found in the car represented —as near as could be ascertained —the proceeds of a robbery which had taken place at the Tutfield branch of the Beecher’s Bank earlier in the day. In fact, Frame learned of the crash before the news of the robbery reached him. He was jubilant when he realised that at last he had some definite clues to work on. He questioned the local policemen very closely, and soon learned the facts of the chase and eventual crash. A police patrol had endeavoured to stop the car to draw the driver’s attention to the fact that the rear numberplate was loose, and when he refused to stop the suspicions of the patrol were roused and they gave chase. Frame congratulated them on their alertness, and had a special word for the constable who threw the truncheon which caused the crash.

Already there were puzzling features in the case. According to preliminary reports of the robbery, it had been carried out by three men, and a large, high-powered car had been used by the raiders. The smashed car was not large. It was certainly not the one used in ths robbery, and it was strange, too, that two men should disappear and a woman take their place. ' (To be continued).