The Rockingham Diamond

Taranaki Daily News, 13 February 1935, Page 13

The Rockingham Diamond

(By

Collinson Owen)

CHAPTER X (continued.) The talk drifted to other things. Vera suddenly looked across at her mother. “You’re looking a little pale, Mummy dear. Don’t you feel well?” “I’m quite well, dear,” Mrs. Van Duren replied with a smile. “But all the same —to tell the truth —I have had a bad headache all day.” “So like you to say nothing about it,” said Vera caressingly. “What about tonight? Shall you want to go?” “Oh, of course, the Russian Ballet. I’d almost forgotten all about it. Now that you mention it, Vera, I do not know that I am very anxious to go.” She turned suddenly to Rockingham. “Mr. Rockingham, if you have no pressing engagement to-night, would you mind taking my little girl Off my hands for one evening?” There was no doubt about the fervour of his reply. Vera too, seemed pleased at the idea. Rockingham murmured his regrets that the headache should have prevented Mrs. Van Duren going instead. He went out treading on ozone. A night’s tete a tete with Vera—moreover, a night free from the horrid incubus of the diamond in his shirt front! Life could not have glowed brighter as Rockingham rolled back on his homeward journey. Was it only the night before that he had made his terrifying debut with the diamond at Mull House? It seemed a thousand years ago—and he felt a thousand years younger. CHAPTER XI. Pilgrim was not sorry to take a hurried leave of Rockingham. In describing his conversation with Sir Marcus over the telephone, Rockingham had mentioned the promise he had given not to tap the wire on the mo trow. Pilgrim was afraid that at any moment Rockingham would lay on him an embargo of. the same kind. If Rockingham had definitely laid it down that no attempt should be made to find out from where Sir Marcus was telephoning it would have been difficult, or disagreeable to go against it. But Rockingham having overlooked this point, Pilgrim felt that he was free from restraint in the matter. Rockingham’s sense of chivalry might be in danger of being pushed a little too far. A crook was a crook, however fair spoken he might be, said Pilgrim to himself. Moreover, Rockingham’s attitude

to the whole question was dominated by the fact that he was in mortal fear of seeing the diamond once more delivered into his . keeping. Therefore following on an interview with his editor, during which he gave a general outline of the extraordinary situation in which he was placed, Pil- 1 grim went in search of a high official of the telephone service. The high official of the telephone service, having known from recent experience that Press criticism of his department could be a very painful visitation received him with every cordiality. But when Pilgrim gave him an idea of what he wanted, he looked very grave. “What you want in effect,” he said, “is to be allowed to overhear a conversation between two subscribers. I am afraid that is impossible.” “I don’t want anything of the kind,” protested Pilgrim. “I shall be told every word of the conversation afterwards from my friend. All I want to know is the name of the place where the call is given in.” “Oh, I see. That is very different. But all the same, it is very irregular.” “Let me put it this way,” urged Pilgrim. “My friend has been, and is to be, rung up by a man who gives neither his name nor the place from which he speaks. Surely my friend has a right to know to whom he is talking, and from where the message comes?” . “I think I can concede that. It is disagreeable to have that sort of thing happen, I know qi?te well that many curious things do happen on the telephone. If you were the one who was being so annoyed, or if your friend put his own case before me. . .” “That’s quite impossible,” put in Pilgrim quickly, “He has every reason for not appearing in the matter. But I can see you are not entirely convinced. Let us take then, for example, a case of attempted blackmail. A victim wants to know who it is that is getting at him, before taking any steps. Surely he would be able to appeal to the telephone authorities to help him to know where he stood?” “He would certainly have a very strong case.” “Well, this affair is on very similar lines to those I have suggested. And finally I can promise you this—if any active steps are taken to bring the offender within the clutches of the law, it will be the police themselves who will do it”

The Official thought for a few moments, drumming his fingers on his desk. Vitally, he seemed to make up his mind. “Well, Mr. Pilgrim, looking at it all round, it seems to me a request whichmight be granted. You have come to the fountain head, and that is always a good thing. As Soon as that call comes through, I will arrange for you to be given the place at which it is given in. But there is one condition. That is, that this arrangement between us is absolutely confidential, and that you on no account divulge it in any way without my consent.” “I assent to that gladly and absolutely,” said Pilgrim, his black eyes shining with triumph. “I may say that I have been influenced in my decision partly by the fact that the representative of an important London newspaper may be regarded as a responsible person tb whom SUth a Concession may, with propriety, be granted,” the official said With a smile. Pilgrim felt considerably elated as h®went back to the office. It had been a stern battle with British officialdom, but he had Won. He had arranged that if he Waited next, day at the West End Exchange, to which the Club was attached, he would be given the address from which the call came to Rockingham, the moment it was put through. Pilgrim had still another hurdle to get over before the day’s work Was done. He had to write something for the motrow’s paper—something which while telling nothing new seemed tb do SO. It was a hard struggle to keep out of it all with which his contact with Rockingham had made him acquainted. But he managed to produce something eminently readable, even if it contained no startling developments.. Next day at half past one found Pilgrim installed in a small partitioned room in the West End Exchange. The furniture consisted of a table, a chair and a tele-» phone. The call should come through about two o’clock, but Pilgrim had decided to be there in plenty of time. Down below in the street, he had a taxi cab waiting with its engine running. The half hour wait seemed a very tong one. At five minutes past two, Pilgrim began to wonder what had happened. It might all come to nothing. There were so many factors against suecc&s. Sir Marcus might be too far away. The conversation might be too short At ten minutes past two, he was in a fever -of worry. Everything he felt had gone wrong. There was a shadow outside the glass door, and a tall willowy girl entered. She was pleasant to look upon, ljut Pilgrim did not think of it. “That call you are waiting for has just come through,” she said. “It was given in at one of the public telephone boxes at Piccadilly Circus Tube station. <To be continued.)