NEW "STAR" SERIAL X ESQUIRE

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18468, 21 May 1928, Page 15

NEW "STAR" SERIAL X ESQUIRE

By

Leslie Charteris

CHAPTER Xl.—(Continued.) ** The position, dear old souls and warriors,” Terry remarked quietly, when he had lighted up to his satisfaction, “ is this. We were visited this evening by a gentleman whose charmin' back-chat indicated even to the most casual listener that we were not entirely strangers, at least in interest. A disturbin' fact, naturally, to all concerned, in view of the pals introduced by the gentleman in question a fact, moreover, for which I have been called to account. A fact, •till moreover, for which I have declined to account. You two have been lummoned with a view to persuadin’ me to reconsider that refusal.” There was another silence. “ Now I’m givin’ you the reason of that refusal,” Terry went on. ‘‘You’ve been summoned here —Bill representin’ the Police and Tony the Law—to tell me whether it’s fatuous or not. And for 3*our benefit, I’m tellin’ you before we’re startin' that that's the opinion of the fourth member of the party.” He glanced at his father, but Sir John gave no sign. Then Terry continued.

“ Only a few months ago,” he said, “ I happened to acquire certain information—information which Bill would have found interestin’ in a professional way. The reason he’s not gettin’ a chance of bein’ interested is that this information consists of two separate facts. The first fact is the cne Bill would find interestin’ the second is the reason he can't be interested. You see, it. would be highly unpleasant for the original owners if Fact Number One came into your possession, Bill, but if Fact Number Two came into your possession it wouldn’t hurt them —but it would hurt me.” He finished his cigarette and lit a second deliberately. "You mean they’re blackmailing your” Bill said. “Yes and no,” Terry replied “If by that you mean that they're threatenin' me that if I disclose Fact Number One they will disclose Fact Number Two—Yes.” “In other words, the disclosure of Fact Two would only hurt you indirectly?” Bill suggested. Terry nodded. “ There, brother, you're batterin’ the nail on the brain-box, so to speak. But disclosin’ Fact Number Two would involve very unpleasant consequences for—some one who matters a great deal, I think, to all of us.” Bill sat back in his chair with a shrug. “ Then, old man,” he said. “ you're an ass. I've told you before that I’m always off duty to you.” “ That’s not the point,” Terry returned. “ I'm the only person who f ould possibly tell you about Fact Number One. Therefore immediately you started actin’ upon it. Fact Number Two would be published. Even assumin’—which I honestly don’t suppose—assumin’ that you could muzzle the police, you couldn’t muzzle the newspapers.”

“ You’re sure you’re the only person in possession of these those who are implicated ?” “As far as the gents concerned know, f am. Actually I'm not. The questions involved are far two important for me to run the risk of one of Horse-face’s pals, for instance, bein’ a good shot.” “Then.’’ said Bill, “let ’em know you’ve told one or two friends, and that one of the friends got tight and spilled the beans.” Terry regarded him a little wearily. “Why they made you an Assistant Commissioner. Bill,” he murmured, “is what's puzzlin’ me at the moment. The fact that one of my friends spilled the beans would be for no other reason than that I’d given him the beans in question to play about with. And the remedy would be the same as if I’d done it myself. No—l’m afraid there’s no gettin’ round it.” Bill’s brow furrowed. “Dammit, Terry,” he exploded at length, "there's no data with your problem. What sort of information, for instance, is this that you’ve got hold of?” “ Fact Number One?” Terry queried. "Well. I don’t think I’m spillin’ any beans when I say that the man who disclosed it ought to be buried in Westminster Abbey.” “An honour,” Bill murmured grimly, ‘‘which I suppose you don’t covet?” “Not 3-et,” Terry gave back quietly. “What do you think, Tony?” Sir John spoke for the second time since we had entered the room. “Well,” I replied, “from the legal point of view Terry’s condoning a felony—not that that worries any of us. Morally viewed, it's very difficult.” Bill got up and paced the room. “Difficult! ” he repeated. “It's all of that—damned difficult. One deduces this—that Fact Number One consists of details of a crime committed or about to be committed. As I can think of no big unsolved mystery of recent interest, I should give ‘about to be committed' the casting vote.” He stopped in his stride and turned and regarded us. “Very well. Because Terry—rightly or wrongly—won’t give me a chance of preventing it’s commission. . . He broke off with- a shrug. “Given the data, there's only one soluFor a space of minutes we spoke no word; and then Sir John’s voice broke the silence. “Do you agree with that. Tony?” And, facing the facts, I threw my weight into the scale deliberately. “Right,” Sir John’s voice was expressionless. “I’m overruled.” Terry stood up. “Settled, then, my bonnies,” he cried, stretching himself. “And so there's

only one point left. From now on to be seen .about with me is a heavy test of friendship. We’ve had an example of that already.” He stopped abruptly, and I knew that he was thinking cf Ann. “Moreover, from to-night’s little jest, among others, we gather that anyone lookin’ for a quiet holiday and a ripe old age would be well advised to pack up and move when they see me cornin’. Therefore I’m goin’ up to London to-morrow mornin’ as ever is. With any luck that’ll draw the fire, and there’ll be no more mirth and horseplav down here.” “Then you stay with me,” I said. “There’s nobody in the flat in Jermyn Street just now—the man who had it went abroad a fortnight ago and the agent? haven’t let it again. I’ll move in with you.” “Good lad, Tony.” For a moment his hand rested on my shoulder. “And Beau —he was meditatin’ a jaunt up there. We’ll get him to complete the party. And Bill can drop in in the evenin’ and make a fourth for bridge.” He paused for a moment thoughtfully. “If the gods are kind there’ll be any amount of game and things knockin’ around.” CHAPTER VII. In which a Practical Joke is Played in Jermyn Street. Terry stretched himself out luxuriously in my favourite chair. " “Brother,” he remarked, helping himself to one of my cigars, “your hovel—a poor thing and, as far as I know, jour own—grows momentarily less plague-ridden. The light of my countenance almost transforms an otherwise insanitary mud-hut into a palace. In fact. I’m thinkin’ of chargin’ a fee for continuin’ to decorate it. After all, it s worth it, Tony. Think of the eclat, the cachet, so to speak, you’ll be acquirin’ among the more observin’ members of the Upper Ten Thousand. They’ll be snowin’ you under with briefs in a few weeks.” “You’re too young,” I returned severely, “to be talking about the Mayfair Calendar. And put that cigar away. That's Bill at the door, and boys under sixteen aren’t allowed to smoke.” To avert the danger Beau neatly removed the weed from between Terry’s surprised fingers and inserted it in his own mouth. A rough-hcJuse was prevented with difficulty. “You’re as strong as a horse, Terry,” Bill gasped, sinking into an easy chair, after peace had been restored. “And go easy with the caresses,” Beau admonished. “My neck’ll be stiff for a week.” A badly-damaged cigar was decently interred in the coal-scuttle and my man Harrison brought coffee. Bill sat up and lighted a cigarette. “While you two were restoring your shattered nerves after being driven up from Barringham by Terry,” he announced, “ I’ve been toiling.” “ You don’t say,” drawled Beau. “ Have you seen a doctor?” “ That,” returned Bill calmly, “is exactly what I have done, and as a result I know how Horse-face died.” We carefully suppressed any show of interest. Experience had taught us that this was the only way to extract information from Bill. “He was poisoned with cyanide of cacodyl, by means of a cigarette.” “ Tetrameth}'l diarsine,” Terry murmured, refusing to be impressed. “Quite easy. It's the deadliest poison known to science. Vide 4 Raffles.’ ” Bill looked up. “ That’s interesting.” he said. “ I always told Spider he read too much * Raffles.’ and that if ever a crime was committed straight out of the book I’d pull him in for it.” “ You told us down at Barringham it was one of Spider's cigarettes,” I remarked. “ Was it a Spur?” Bill shook his head. “Just an ordinary type of gasper.” “How’s it done?” Beau demanded. “ Elementary,” Bill replied. “ Impregnate the end of the cigarette with it.” “You can smell cacodyl a mile off,” Terry objected. “ You couldn't smell it on this one.” “If j'ou’d tried,” Terry retorted grimly, “ we'd be sendin’ round a subscription list for your wreath by now, and the ‘ Police Court Gazette ’ ’d be cornin’ out with a black border.” Bill shrugged. “ I didn’t try myself. I’ll admit it was a sheer fluke I hit on it. Only in Spider's line of business it’s sometimes necessarj r to ensure that people won't remember things. And one or two people who might have told us things have died sudden 1>* —natural causes, of course, but it makes one think. Then Horse-face is added to the li.st. He’s in an empty carriage, and he appears to have died naturally. A half-smoked cigarette is between his fingers. Spider’s cigarette case is in his pocket, empt}% and also a box of Gold Flake. The half-smoked cigarette isn’t a Gold Flake. The obvious deduction is that it’s one of Spider's. “ The doctor who examined the body said the man died of heart failure. Horse-face was as sound as a bell. I kept the cigarette on spec—it was the only chance of finding out what killed him, and an outside chance at that. Only I read * Raffles,’ and the method had occurred to me myself. So I took the fag-end to an analyst, and ypu can bet I handled it gingerly—with gloves on. It wasn’t above possibility that Spider might have hit on one of the Borgia poisons.” “ And w-hen are they buryin* the anal}*sl?” Terry inquired ironicallj*. (To be Continued).