RED FOR DANGER

Taranaki Daily News, 4 January 1935, Page 11

RED FOR DANGER

By LINDSAY HAMILTON (Author of “The Gorgon,” "The Black Asp,” etc.)

CHAPTER 8 (continued). Grimshaw relaxed into a smile. “I’ll tell you, since you want to know.” He gave her then a queer penetrating look before he answered; “Her name is Mrs. Victor Smythe and she is, to the best of m’y knowledge, a widow with a large income and one son.” At first hearing the name conveyed nothing to either Jill or Timothy, but after Clive' Grimshaw had wished them well and departed, Jill suddenly recollected. “Why, 'that was the name of one of the. spies .K.L murdered!” she exclaimed. “So it was,” said Timothy, “Smythe and Burroughs. Mrs. Smythe was tall and handsome—a Corsican, I think Grier said.' It can’t be the same, of course.” “He recognised her —I’m sure it’s the same woman,” said Jill with utter certainty. “You probably didn’t notice it, but I think Clive Grimshaw did—she kept her right hand out of sight in the folds of her gown. Lost her way in the dark!’’ continued ‘ Jill scornfully “She took a long time to open the door, and she did it without making a sound.”;. Timothy lit his pipp and pondered deeply. Presently he confided to Jill the results of his cogitation. "I’m beginning to think that Wilkins had some special reason for staying in this hotel; Grimshaw fights shy .of it. Sinister-face walks in as though he owned the place. And now the mysterious Mrs. Smythe appears out of the darkness. Fishy!—decidedly fishy!” . CHAPTER 9. BETWEEN GENTLEMEN. ’ • Morning, did everything it could to dispel the cloud of 'mystery Timothy had imagined to be hanging over .'the Recluse Hotel. ' He encountered Mrs. Smythe in the coffee rooip. Her son, a rather flashy' youth in his early twenties, was; with her. Beyond a chilly smile of recognition she ' Seemed quite indifferent to Timothy’s existence. There was nothing, 50 far aS’ Timothy could discern, to (single her but from hundreds of other women of her type—reserved, self-re-liant women of the world—to be found wherever' there are comfortable hotels. Timothy, wandered aimlessly about from room to room most of the morning, only to collect from all directions convincing proof: of the decorum and select respectability’ of the Recluse Hotel. There was one brief moment of alert expectancy when he encountered in the hall the man he believed to be the tingleader of the murderous S6ho gang. Timothy contrived to collide with him clumsily. But there was no glimmer of recognition in the man’s, eyes. Hb accepted Timothy’s apology with the bare civility of a man whose- .thoughts are elsewhere. ■ ■ .

Timothy overheard.a 'fragment of ..his conversation with .the reception clerk. Evidently he was bidding her farewell. "Good-bye, Mr. Delaney,” she answered pleasantly. "Shall we see you next year?” ; . ’ “Hope so. But-trade-is- darned, bad everywhere. We may be up- the spout next year.” This was evidently a good joke for they both laughed. Timothy watched him appear through the outer door, and then strolled over to the reception clerk. "Was’that one of the Delaneys' of Thafrow Cove, Dorset?” he asked with an engaging smile- ‘“I ’.thought I knew his face.” "I don’t thmk/.to” shfe .answered-quite readily. “He' is- a piano manufacturer from Manchester. He comes every year for a week or sd.” "Has he been here so long?” Timothy exclaimed. "What a pity I missed him.” From, which.the girl was left to infer that the Delaneys of Dorset and the piano manufacturer were closely connected. Here \ the - conversation might have tended, but her manner, while not openly inviting him to stay, certainly conveyed no hint that' he should go. So Timothy stayed, and talked for a while in in amiable’ way about nothing in particular. He learnt that her name was Eve Harding, and decided that she was a thoroughly nice girL Since Jill was busy with her own affairs Timothy- lunched at his club. There he tan into Lord Medway, who acknowledged his existence in his usual pre-dccupied way. Th 4 business- of moulding and breathing life into public opinion arid satisfying the appetite so created was his One. absorbing interest. He liked to believe that he looked on the steadily increasing sales of his newspapers aS purely incidental. In the study of humanity in the abstract he haa little, time f<sr the individual. "We haven’t seen you lately at White Gables,” he observed—which was true. “Sylvia asked me to give you her love if I saw you”—which was not true. “Haven’t had the time,” said Timothy. “The exigencies of a busy life.” • Lord Medway frowned, perhaps because he had a vague suspicion of plagiarism. The phrase was one he frequently used himself. "Cdme down as soon as you can,” said he. Already the focus of his thoughts had escaped into remoter regions.

"Tell Sylvia I’m working hard,” said Timothy with the ghost of a smile. "Brain work.” “Ah! Excellent!” Lord . Medway passes on. In the afternodn Timothy called round to see how Sam was progressing. He found him quite recovered arid anxious, when Timothy told him of his plans, to join his master at the Recluse Hotel.. “Now that wouldn’t be a bad notion at ah,” mused Timothy. "If there’s anything to be learnt below I’d trust you to worm it out, Sam.” So Sam accompanied him back to the Recluse. Jill had returned. Restrained excitement shone tn her eyes as she handed Timothy a letter. It bore no stamp, he noticed, and it was addressed

to him in an unfamiliar hand, very small and very neat. “It was on the table when I came in,” said Jill. “I suppose you must have left the door open.” Timothy started in surprise. .“No, I locked it. How the deuce did it get here?” “Quick! Open it.** Though , his own curiosity was equal to hers, Timothy could not resist the pleasure of tantalising her. His eyes twinkled as he turned the letter everyway, affecting to view it with the greatest suspicion. !• “Perhaps there’s a bomb it in. You never know—of the mark of the Black Hand;” ' Jill snatched the letter from his hand and tore it open. She glanced at the contents, turned the single sheet of paper over,, and handed it to Timothy, i “It’s from K. 1.,” she whispered in a thrilled voice. ■ , Timothy, seized it and read aloud .what was written.' It was. headed '“Timothy Gale Esq.,” and was couched ih the Stereotyped phrases of business ‘courtesy: - “Sir, : You attentions of. yesterday’s date have been brought to my notice, and I have to inform you that a continuance of same will prove mutually undesirable. It would be a matter for infinite regret if. you should force me to take certain steps to provide against future collisions. That you have acted so far with some degree of discretion accounts for the fact that I write this letter and that you are alive to read it. Your removal ,must inevitably fall on the debit side, and, as a'man of business, I must regard any. waste of energies in unproductive directions as deplorable.

The cost of maintaining efficiency has been high already. It would be an act of foolish profligacy, productive only of loss to both of us, for you to add to that cost by throwing away your own life. “I appeal to you, therefore, as one gentleman to another, to abandon a course which can- only result in your ultimate destruction and' my infinite regret. An assurance to this effect in the personal column of “The Times” will be accented as a gentleman’s agreement. K. 1.” Timdthy looked at Jill and grinned. "Nice, amiable chap, isn’t he? I like those happy touches of , his—‘mutually undesirable—‘infinite regret’—‘a gentleman’s agreement’. I couldn’t have worded it better mySelf. I suppose what he means by ‘the cost of maintaining efficiency’ is the murder of Wilkins and Burgess. Business evidently has Its finer feelings apart from profit and loss. He seems quite anxious for us.” “What are you going to do about it?” Jill challenged. " - ;

He . looked at. her in wonder. As though there was any need to ask! ; ' "Stick a notice in ’The Times,’ of course.” Jill’ looked at him hard, and. detecting nothing reassuring in his expression; she flared up suddenly; ’ ’ *‘‘lf you do. I’ll kill you myself.” Timothy looked shocked. , "Oh dear, oh dear!”, he exclaimed. “Naughty,'Ana I thought you loved me.” ’ “I’ll hate you if you draw out now,” she said fiercely. Timothy was unperturbed. He began .to scribble on a piece of paper. “What; shall we say?” he asked blandly. “Nothing—nothing at all.” Jill’s anger turned to biting scorn. "Unless you’re scared by that ridiculous letter.” , - "I am,” he admitted; “Horribly scared; I’m going to get this off at ohce. How would this do?—‘Charmed with your letter. . Infinite regrets. T.G.’” Jill fdurid relief in violence. She sprang at Timothy and seized him from behind by the hair and tugged it. , “Beast! Abominable wretch!” She stopped pulling at his hair and rumpled it with her fingers. "Oh, you nice red savage,” she purred. "I’m sorry I was so beastly. Lought .to have known.” • Timothy held up the piece of paper. “Will it do, do you think?” “Isn’t it rather too flippant?”

"You think Mr. Garter would prefer something more sensational?—Do your worst’; or, strong and silent, perhaps—‘Nothing doing, old cock’.” For quite half-an-hour th?y amused themselves trying to compose a suitable reply, and in the end decided that it would be best not to reply at all. CHAPTER 10. THE HIDDEN EAR. Three uneventful days passed. „ The police continued to preserve a masterly silence. Of Grimshaw neither Timothy nor Jill had seen or heard anything since his midnight visit. Timothy had filled in the time in profitless roaming through the hotel and ip certain defensive preparations. He was determined that no second failure in the lighting arrangements, either accidental or deliberate, should catch him unprepared. When Jill arrived late in the afternoon he displayed the results of his fore* thought with some pride. The office, as they had agreed to call his sitting-room, now had its independent lighting system. The door was fitted with a stout bolt— Timothy had not troubled to obtain permission from the management; also, the windows of both rooms were secured with strong patent catches.

Timothy then handed Jill a small pistol. .“In case 6f emergency,” he observed in a matter-of-fact tone. “It’s loaded, by the way.” Jill seemed as delighted as a child receiving a present. She turned it this way and that. “Isn’t it dinky? I’d love to try it on somebody. Would it hurt much?” "Hi!” yelled Timothy, aghast. “Don’t point it at me. Keep your finger off the trigger.”

(To be continued).