"The Cry in the Night,"

Wairarapa Daily Times, 11 April 1935, Page 7

"The Cry in the Night,"

(COPYRIGHT.)

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

CHAPTER XIX. Inspector Ransom© was in the very act of taking the receiver from tlie telephone on his desk when the buzzei sounded sharply. “Now,” he said, “in high heaven s name, wliat’s this?” “Hallo!” lie answered, giving no name. “Who’s there?” “Charlton speaking from the Hyde Park Hotel. I want to know—” “Wait! ” interjected the inspector. “Ring up in three minutes’ time. I’ve an important message to send. Right! Thanks! ” He consulted a card on his desk, then rang up the Pecksniff Club. His call was answered by the woman Queenie, whoso voice as she recognised that of the caller took a sharp note of anxiety. “There’s nothing the matter is there, Mr Ransome?” “Nothing!” he answered rather mendaciously. “I just want to speak to Dearnley if lie is there. All quiet at the club, I suppose.” “Like a Sunday school,” answered the lady lightly, her anxiety relieved by the inspector’s reassuring words. Ransome laughed in order to mislead the lady further. “You’ll bo claiming it’s a nunnery next, and turning Harry adrift. Just ask Dearnley to step to the end of the wire, will you?” “ Right-o!” “Hallo!” Dearnley’s lazy voice sounded, and Inspector Ransome spoke quickly and quietly. “Keep your nerve steady, Dearnley, and don’t give anything away. There’s news at last.” ‘ ‘ 0.K.! ’ ’ answered Dearnley. 1 ‘ The dreadful news unfold.” “I’ve a notion that, you are going to have a caller at “The Pecksniff tonight—the caller you understand. Por heaven’s sake don’t let that Jezebel at your end guess that you are anticipat-. ing anything of the sort, and it will be as well to keep it from Harry as well. He’s armed these days, as we both know, and if he got the wind up he might shoot too soon.” “ Who is the man?” “Devil knows! ” answered the inspector gruffly. “That young Adrian Rowthornc lias just been gathered in at Westminster for a drunk, and for assaulting the police. Seems rather as if he’d wanted to bo gaoled to get out of the way of something, but ho passed the word that the killer of Arthur Studholme was on the lay again, and that somebody was in danger to-night. Didn’t say who, but there was some sort of foreigner hanging about who wanted to go bail for him —and ho may be exhibit ‘X,’ first in the procession at Pondicherry Lodge. I’m going up to the police station now to see Rowthorne, though between drink and dope it’s a pretty hopeless task to get anything out of him, from the sergeant’s account. After that, I’m coming on to see you. If this isn’t a mare’s nest, we’ve just got to nab ‘X,’ the Dago. So keep a bright eye lifting, and telephone the Westminster police station if anything happens before I arrive. ’ ’

“Very well, sir.” Ransome rang off, and almost immediately his buzzer sounded again. He took up the receiver, and asked: “That you, Sir Martin?” ' “Yes, Inspector. My wife is here and —”

“Your wife?” The inspector was too surprised to attempt to hide it. “Yes, Miss. Rowthorne that was. That’s the usual way of putting it, isn’t it? We were married to-day at Charlton Magna. She is very anxious to know if there is any news about her brother. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind telling me.” , “Yes,’’.answered Ransome, with a smile to himself. “He was arrested twenty minutes ago—” “Arrested! Good heavens —”

"As a drunk and disorderly and for knocking a policeman’s helmet over his eyes—” A laugh expressive of relief came over the wire. "Oh, I’ve done that myself in my riotous youth. If that’s the only charge—” "There mayn’t bo even that! If the young fool wasn’t raving when lio was arrested he’s given information that will clear him of that affair at Pondicherry Lodge, and of th.at of Hoppy Howe as well. He says the killer’s loose in London and on the job to-night. That means that unless we can get him before he strikes, Tiger Harry’s number is up, and maybe Queeiiie’s, too—that for your private ear! I’ve no more time to spare. I’m just off to Westminster station to see Rowthorne. Not much good I’m afraid, as he’s lost to the world, I’m told. Yes! You may come, if you care. But I shan’t wait. From Westminster I’m going right on to The Pecksniff Club. The deuco of it is, that nobody but Rowthorne knows the killer, and how he knows beats me. Au revoir. ’ ’

Inspector Ransomc went straight, to the police station and found the. divisional surgeon contemplating tho inanimate form of Adrian Rowthorne.

"'Any chance?’’ asked Ransome sharply. "You’ll be lucky if you got a word out of him before breakfast time and he’ll be a lucky man if ho feels like talking then. He’s been thoroughly and scientifically drugged, with what stuff I can’t say. But you could put fire to his toes without wakening him, and it’s no use trying to do so at present. ’ ’ Ransomo whistled softly, and a thought came to him. "Is he in any danger?” "No more than is usual in a dope case, I should say.” "All right! Then he’s in your charge. But I want him kept here.” "Held?” asked the sergeant. "He hasn’t been charged yet, sir.” " ‘D.D.,’ and you can’t charge a sleeping man. Call him an incapable and leave it at that. Thero won’t bo any fus. It is entirely for his own good. Who’s that?” Charlton’s voice outside gave him tho information ho desired, and he nodded. "Let the gentleman in here. I was expecting him.” Ho turned as Charlton entered. "’Evening, Sir Martin. There’s your brother-in-law! You won’t get much change out of him to-night.” Charlton looked at tho unconscious Adrian. "Drugged?” "Pretty thoroughly 1 ” "But who —” " 'X,’ the unknown, who killed both your old friends. I’ll wager on it.

BY OTTWELL BENNS. (Author of “The Lavenham Treasure,” “Diana of the Islands,” “The Mystery of the Atoll,” etc.)

How ho came in touch with him, the Lord/ knows, but that ho had done so I’m pretty certain.” “He wasn’t acting in collusion?” asked Charlton quickly. “I should say not! He did his best to get arrested, and insisted on a warning being ’phoned to me. He did not give names —by the sergeant’s account, drink or drugs was tying his tongue when he was brought in. But it is easy to guess which way the wind blows, and I’m going on to The Pecksniff Club now.” “I’ll go with yon if I may.” The inspector looked doubtful. “Think you’ll be welcome?” “What’s that matter? ’’ “Nothing, if you don’t mind,” answered Ransome with a short laugh. “And I can sec a way in which you might be useful. Queenie lias the notion that you—or —well, you know. And youi; presence with me will prove a distraction. Serve to draw her attention from anything that may be going on .... I shall give Harry the tip to keep off you, and you needn’t grow aggressive,, you know, Sir Martin.”

“I won’t,” laughed Charlton. “I’m in a. forgiving mood to-night. ’ ’ Inspector Ransome laughed back. “No wonder! Lady Charlton would

sweeten the soul of a blind misogynist. But wo’re wasting time. Come along!” Ho led the way to the door, then turned back, and spoke for a moment or two to the sergeant. “Got that! Right! Make it clear that it is only on receipt of a telephone message from me or Dearnley that the thing is to happen; and then it is to happen just, as fast as it can.”

“Yes, sir, I understand.” The inspector joined Charlton, and as he did so looked at his wristlet watch. “We’ll walk,” he said. “The night is young for such places as The Pecksniff.' Whatever is going to happen won’t happen until the place is in full swing, I’m sure.” “What do you suppose is going to happen?” asked Chariton as they passed into the street.

“If Adrian Rowthorne wasn’t just fancying things, there’s going to be big trouble at The Pecksniff. That fellow who got the others is going to clear the board if we don’t stop him. And stopping him isn’t going to be an easy job, for, whilst we know that the fellow is some sort of a foreigner—that’s about the extent of our knowledge. How many men would a. taxi man describe as a Dago? About half the alien population of London, I expect. He may be anything not distinctively British; and until he betrays himself avc can’t lay hands on him.. If Queenie and her husband knew the facts, they’d be shaken to the marrow. ’ ’

“You think the man will try for them in the open club?” “Can’t well try elsewhere; A colleague of mine is acting as doorkeeper, whilst Harry and Queenie are keeping to the main rooms. That is understood. The fellow will just have to come into the open if he wants to add that pair to his score. And it’s one thing to kill a man in a house where he is alone, or in a shadowed street, and an entirely different thing to do it in a well-lighted room. And that’s one thing in Tiger Harry’s favour to-night. He doesn’t stint the electric light bill.” They reached the Haymarket, and walked to the corner of the narrow street where The Pecksniff was situated . As they turned into it, a taxi passed them, and drew up by the sign of the club. A man and three girls stepped out, and before the pair arrived at the club, passed inside. They found Dearnley in a little box-like office at the door, with a rather pretty girl bv his side. As they entered the girl looked at them sharply and then quietly turned a tumbler which stood on the desk in front of her. Dearnley laughed. “Friends of mine, Lisette. They have the entree. You just run away for a moment and see if Harry is wanting you.” The girl disappeared, and Dearnley reported. “Place is nearly full. Harry has a good thing here. I’m going to get the sack at the Yard and start a London speak-easv. It’s the quickest way to fortune, barring pills and bookmaking.” “A new religion-occult in quality might pay better,” said Ransome. “Anv indications of trouble?” “Not a cat’s paw!”

"You’ve got the telephone there? If T send a message, get it through to the Yard at once. The word will be "get busy.” "Lord grant we do. Door-keeping at a night club is the slowest thing under the moon.”

Charlton and the inspector passed on into a brilliantly lighted supper-room, with a large number of small tables set around a square of dancing floor. At the moment four couples were engaged in a complicated shuffle to tho sound, of syncopated music which came from a balcony, that was plainly a copy of the old musicians’ gallery of the older churches and the statelier homes of England. Almost all the tables were filled, for both Tiger Harry and Quecnie understood that to feed the bruto was as profitable as to sell illicit champagne at thrice its ordinary price, and the cuisine of The Pecksniff was responsible for half its clientele. The other half knew its hidden attractions —a card room that was the sanctum-sanctorum of the place, where games on which the law frowned were played and where paper money on the tables was like the leaves of autumnal Vallombrosa. Ransomo know all about that, and there was nothing that he did not know about the illegal sale of the juice of the vine. (To be Continued').