“ANNOUNCER’S HOLIDAY"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 13 January 1941, Page 10

“ANNOUNCER’S HOLIDAY"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

By

VAL GIELGUD.

(Author of “Africa Flight,” “Outpost in China,” etc.)

CHAPTER XX.

(Continued/.

Geoffrey shrugged and led the way to the barrier. Charles might be thrilling with the excitement of the chase, but for him everything was as dust and

I ashes. He felt that the job was ab- ! surd, the mission they were engaged ! upon grotesque, themselves insignifl- ! cant. There they were blundering fu- ■ tilely into the East End after some red I herring in Charles’s fertile imagination, while every minute Greta was vanishing farther and more completely and for ever from his. Geoffrey's, ken. And he loved her—loved her, in spite of that cruel last meeting in her suite in the hotel. And outside it was darkening, and a thin miserable drizzle was falling again. By the time they had left the Underground it was practically dark. The streets adjoining Limehouse Causeway seemed gloomier, drearier, and wetter ■ than any streets in the world. They slouched miserably along, heads ben: against drizzle, hardly exchanging a word.

“Sure you remember the way, Geoff?” asked Charles after quarter of

an hour’s plodding along. “I am not. In fact. I’m pretty sure I’m properly lost,” admitted Geoffrey. “Hang it. I came here only once.” Charles took his arm, "I know old boy—and it's all devilish hard on you. But we’ve got.to find old Casimir, you know." “In the circumstances this is the one place we can be sure he won’t be. Hello!"

He stopped and pointed to the left

“This isn’t the way I came —but 1 swear that's the church we turned down the stairs by. 1 remember that ludicrous looking tower." They turned off along a narrow sidestreet. at the farther end of which a single lamp-post shone ineffectively, the bulk of the church looming up beyond it. Almost unconsciously they had quickened their steps. The street was altogether deserted, and their footsteps rang unnaturally loud along the pavement. They reached the lamp-post, and stood stii! for an instant, Geoffrey peering about him in the endeavour to re-establish his bearings. Thon ho clutched Charles’s olbow.

“Steady, old boy!" “Shut up. Charles, look there!”

Charles looked. Standing against a blank wall seme ten yards away, where the street widened out and ended in a cul-de-sac. was a big motor car; t’nc unmistakable motor car of Prince Xavier, the uniformed chauffeur at the wheel.

"Otherwise empty, I think,” muttered Charles. "But that bloke mustn’t spot us.”

“We’ve got to pass him." whispered back Geoffrey. “D'you sec those posts? There’s a stair going down beyond them. It must be the fellow of the stair I went down with Lucia, only she must have brought me to it from the other side. The house is at the bottom.”

Charles stared at the motionless car. ‘He’s quiet enough," he muttered. "Asleep with any luck." "But what on earth can Greta and Xavier be doing here?" “What we’re doing--contacting Casimir. with any luck. I propose wo find out." "He'll bo the deuce to tackle if he sees us!” "He won’t! Come on!” Diey had already moved out of the feeble ring of light from the street lamp. Now Charles flattened himself against the area railings beside him. and moved cautiously along towards the steps, Geoffrey followed. His head felt clearer, and the blood was beginning to run warm again in his veins. Whatever other devilry mignt be towards. Greta was still within reach . . . "My God!" t xclaimcd Charles Bland suddenly. "Quiet, you foul!" "Not necessary. Geoff.” ' What on earth do y,,u mean?” "He won’t hear us. He's as dead as mutton." "Charles!" It s true, said Charles and ran up to the limousine. Geoffrey followed It was perfect!.', true. The big black man sat there at his wheel star): and stiff, his eyes staring and hideously rolled up in their s-.ckels. I lie hilt of a stiletto stood cut from under his left slmuldcr-blndt 1 here was curiously little blood. ' 1 suppose we gel the p Lee," -aid Geoffrey, when he c.-uld find his vuicv Polite nothing! D’yut; want Cavendish, Moresby, .and the whole firn: clumping round with their jolly Irakn- tebooks” This hasn’t been done fulfill) by one of Charlie Br-.w.”.';: regulars < r a local gangster, you can be' y< ur life oil that’ Let’s yet on ” They ;.;•>! on, though ! r Gmilrw at least it was more than difficult io leave that grim figure in their rear But they were n-)l have long in winch to think - t tb,e dead chauffeur f : a: •!>.< button - ) ihv sU/tr. yards of ( udulen ; i;;;: ; v;i ;b r t l,. , t with the entwined mermaid- fur ,j knocker. .And the door was ajar! CHAPTER XXI! To make plan src impossible The )’ ds . t-em.-d tp be uifenng gifts ami such must be accepted and the f.»rfv t paid. Charles and Gt uTrej were mm ’die S'j-ac'- t.f -.vet pave.T.i-tlt and inlu till •-heltrr ’ f tile (fl l.rwny ;,»> <;,• fur’dlc! '.'de. like a c.uple ~f alley c.it-. Them f ! T J ■ 1 ’Jlc . j <;» breathing hard; and Geoffrey t<> k the fri nth; f >-j e’er a tii*. .imlc i Effi }.e J ,-t; <«.. T.. ■ , — -* ~.t s .-<ih4.4:.v ir.-rn «♦ . . i ' ' f

"Casimir’s library." whispered Geoffrey. “Come on. Charles!"

They tip-toed up the stairs, every nerve at stretch, feeling a trifle ridicu-

lous with their index fingers on the

| trigger-guards of their pistols. Geoff- ; rev had a hideous vision of what they | would look like from the ninepennies i at any cinema.

They stopped again at the top of the ’ stairs, long enough to exchange glan- . ces. and clinch their determination, i Then Charles Bland swore under his breath, kicked the library door wide ! open, and hurled himself through it. I pistol in hand. Geoffrey followed. And i then Charles swore again, and this lime ' not al all under his breath. For the ‘ room was perfectly empty.’

! To Geoffrey it seemed much as it had been on the occasion of his previous visit. There was the same general atmosphere of luxurious distinction; the oriental rugs, the Samurai swords, the scent of cedar-wood logs and expensive cigars, the cat-prints by the Japanese artist ujita. But as they looked about them they noticed there was a certain disorder present which would surely never have been tolerated by the essentially precise soul of Casimir Konski. In particular the great desk was anything but tidy. Its mass of papers i seemed to have been swept roughly ! together into a heap in the middle of the blotting-pad. Two or three of the drawers were partly open. The wastepaper basket had been upset and lay on its side, and there wore the charred fragments of burned papers in the tire! place.

“I suppose that’s the typical policeraid—not tidying up after them!" said Charles. “\Vell —were a lot farther forward now we’ve ‘come to the end of the road!"

Geoffrey stood whore he was. gnawing his knuckles, and looking round the room.

“Why aren’t the police still watching the place.’ ho demanded in exasperation.

"They may be. Geoff. We’ll probably find ourselves being neatly arrested in five minutes, just to make the end of a perfect day!" "And Greta and Xavier?"

"They may have sent the car for Casinur. There’s no reason on earth why they should have been in it." And Geoffrey had to agree that there was none —except to increase his peace of mind.

“I suppose we’d better get out," he said gloomily. “it’s not much good searching the place, if the professionals have been over it already. However. I think I’ll just ring Moresby and let him know where we are. and about the killing of Xavier's chauffeur. We’re pretty well off the map you know—" He broke off: walked over to the telephone and lifted the receiver Charles joining him. sitting on the edge of the desk swinging one leg easily and lighting a cigarette.

At which moment they heard a smooth, rather guttural voice from behind them.

“Put down that telephone please—and keep your hands out of your pockets.”

It was Casimir Konski. They knew that even before they obeyed his orders and turned round. He was standing against the wall to the left of the door. Behind him a section of the wall, complete with book-cases up to the ceiling which held perfectly genuine books, had opened. Casimir leaned against a corner of the bookcase, a half-smoked cigar in his hand, his monocle it) his eye. "Please don't look so uncomfortably like bursting with astonishment and curiosity." lie said. ~ -1 hope you share my admiration fur the work of one of your English authors in one of his books hi makes one of his characters observe tnat one of the places you would be apt to leave unsearched for a criminal w< uld be Scotland Yard. 1 thought I could improve on that. It seemed to me unlikely that Scotland Yard would continue to search for their quarrv in ■'he one place which they had alreadi searched." Neither Geoffrey nor Charles could tiHti anything to say to that. did nut choose to live in Unit?house for nothing." Casimir went* o n ‘ I'hese houses were built in th.,,. , sp;tc . mus day-- when fronting ur backing on a river was less a matter of the pic--uresque than of providing upportumtivs fur tilling the pockets. They therelore are liable to be prov;dv<: m r »’l ('Wins. I tell you these thmgs 'me as any proof ( ,f Iny exceptional inteHigonce, but because i t(1 pu ..., k _ ”' ’ml.m.!y. and after tonight tms house wdl be of i.y further u e y me. My-m-ry.making for ' be b rt ''‘ : y vulgar. " I'kam; y ...uy- Gvoffrev H " b:ui —md satGiMic. !f( . - u I,.,Jwie.-,My feeble ;’• ’•« me. U-. lhat K'-H(ng a trifle u ■ 1 * • s f 1.. - w>.. ;ut<i n itccs axe . : - 7' ■■ • ■ I 11 take your •■ •• d ■ mind arid tlicn v e Ut *’ he :h -‘- Charlo. and ” dntermg (mnmr K • ' ” ■ Lum-h. us,, h.deout, a - .m; a!l< ( ■ !! " •'’-•• S'my -u' k ' r^?: -d ~f Supej-mtemient liverish and ‘rtitable k H "— • ,!i an air frivolity-a- the host he rn’i; ' '’ive-‘l.; p li k- ‘ •’itaUui and Hnthih' •?’'i. . j , . „ DKICk . ■ .’itarnmer.- ‘ ' " ■* be Continued).