John Smith---Blackmailer

Waikato Times, Volume 112, Issue 18777, 27 October 1932, Page 4

John Smith---Blackmailer

CHAPTER XXVIII.— (Continued). Twelve o’clock was striking as Peok’s hired car turned from the main thoroughfare Into one of those long lanes of miscellaneous buildings In the East End. Some distance along It Peck instructed the driver to pull up outside a garage on the right. They alighted, and Roddy wondered curiously whether the little black bag Peck carried contained an up-to-date burglar’s kit, , _ , “I want you to wait here, Peck told the driver. “But turn the car first. Keep a sharp look-out for me down the side-street opposite, and as soon as vou see me coming start the engine and get the oar moving. I may be in rather a hurry.” Already the exodus from offices and workshops had begun. They waited a few minutes and Peck then led the way up the street opposite, talking as he went. “It should be a simple task, unfortunately it is a Yale look or I should have supplied a key to fit. The ground floor door will be bpen. The man above is a wholesale tobacconist and doesn’t leave till 12.30. Here we 91 Peck turned in under an Weighted stone archway and passed through an open door on the left. They found themselves in a short lobby facing a narrow flight of stairs. On the left the door of the olebk’s office stood closed. No sound came from within. Peck cautiously tried it and, finding it locked, proceeded up the stairs, followed closely by Reddy. Immediately fronting them on the first floor landing black letters on a ground-glass panel informed whomever It might conoern that behind that door "J. Brisson, Solicitor” practised his profession. Set at right angles to It was the door of Tinsley's office, and It was to this that Peck at onoe turned his attention. “Why not the other?” whispered Roddy. “Beoause it’s boarded up," answered Peok without troubling to lower his voloe. "No light oomes through the glass, you notloe. It may even be a dummy. In which oase so is Brisson. That’s what we are here to discover." He took from the blaok bag a small metal saw and a strong pair of pliers and gave the bag to Roddy to hold. Then with the utmost coolness he began to saw through the outer bindingring of the look. It seemed to Roddy impossible that suoh a loud rasping noise could continue more than a few seconds before someone would be coming down from the warehouse above or the street below to see what it was all about. But Peok, quite unconoerned, went on sawing away and humming a happy little tune as he worked. The job took longer than Roddy expeoted owing to the awkward angle at which it was neoessary to hold the saw. Ho breathed a sigh of relief as the' binding-ring came away exposing the barrel of the lock. The rest was simple. Peok gripped it firmly with his pliers, gave it a twist and pushed the door open. Next, from the bag he took a printed notice bearing the word "Closed,” and fixed it over the damaged lock. A seoond later they stood safely inside the offloe, free to begin their investigations with little fear of interruption. "And now to put my assumptions to the test," said Peck, beaming with Intense satisfaction. “There is either a room behind that wall or there is not. If there is, then it is reasonable to assume that It has a door. Now, where is the most likely place for a hidden door? Behind that row of shelves, I think. They are little more than the width of a door, and they reach to the floor, you see. Rather childlessly obvious, don’t you think? But probably John Smith’s precautions did not take into account a visit such as ours."

“We’ll soon find out,” said Roddy. I The shelves were closely packed with flllng-boxcs. Roddy drew out one from each shelf in the extreme right, but could find no sign of a handle, lock or sprlng-oatoh. He tried the other side, and the first box he removed revealed a circular lock. “You’re right,” he exclaimed. “Another Yale. What a nuisance," sighed Peck. “Rather awkward to get at. I think I’ll stand on that chair and work down at It. Thank you." Peck set to work without more ado, but It was a slow business. Roddy took a turn, and fared less successfully. It gave him quite a new conception of Peck. Those podgy-look-lng fingers of his were deceptive, like the rest of him. Some twenty minutes elapsed and Roddy was taking his turn again. A few more movements of the saw would do It ... at last . . . the ring divided .... in that Instant came a warning hiss from Peck. There was no need for the warning. Roddy went rigid, not daring to risk even the removal of the looso ring. For from Inside of Brisson’s room came the sound of a thud, followed by the cautious closing of a window and the pad of feet moving within. For one breathless moment Roddy thought the Intruder was making for the door. But ho passed; the steps ceased no more than a yard away. He could distinctly hear "the man’s breathing. Who could it be that dared to force an entrance through a second-storey window In broad daylight? Brlsson himself?—hardly. A new sound set Roddy guessing—the crisp rustle of papers, the unmistakable click of a bag being closed. Footsteps again, the squeak of the window being raised , . . Then occurred a trilling chance that instantaneously broke the tension and flung them into whirling action. The lockring slipped and was falling. Roddy made a grab for if, and in doing so knocked over one of the tiling-boxes with his elbow. It fell with a crash. Pork sprang forward with the pliers and grappled with the look, hut without success. “Safely catch on,” he gasped. "You try It.” . Roddy, furious at the sol-hack, put forth alt his sirenglh. The lock snap- i ped. The dummy slwhes hinged In- | wards I Ik'ih. and Ihry hurst inlu I In* i inner rnum. In mir rapid glance i Roddy noted the massive safe with j ils d .nr open, ami lip' window open al j the hollom. In three >l"ides he was a,-toss, wilh Peek ho-'i le him. looking down into a cobbled yard enclosed by ; dilapidated stables. ! i e •;< leaned \ve : ! nut of the window ‘o look dhe‘tiy down. "Their he goes," he whispered to Ro.hi -, and Roddy was Just in time to sae the burly llgiire . r R .q a'J wl to

BY Lindsay Hamilton. (Author of " The Black Asp," “ The Jaokal," eta.)

AN ENTHRALLING AND THRILLING STORY.

CHAPTER XXIX.

he recognised at once—scuttling across the yard under close shelter of the building. “Great Scott!" he exclaimed. “Why, it’s Armstrong.” And now. the method of Armstrong’s entry and exit was made clear. At some time the floor above Tinsley & Brlsson’s offices must have been used as a warehouse for heavier goods than tobaooo, for there was a left door above, and from It a flight of wooden steps ran down across the building, passing only a few feet below the window at which they stood. “Come ■ on," urged. Roddy, and would have clambered through the window-, but Peck drew him back. “Hlstl" he warned him. “Armstrong has a shadow. Look!" Ho pointed down to the stables. From the dark entrance a man emerged and sped silently aoross the yard in pursuit of Armstrong. It was impossible to see more of him than a cap pulled well down, and a voluninous grey raincoat. “Armstrong, I’m afraid, is in for trouble," said Peck. “Quick, now, there’s no time to lose. Down the steps—that alley no doubt joins the street through the arch." This surmise proved to be correct. They reached the street in time to see the grey-coated man turn the corner. Going warily) they reached the main street and the security of Peck's car. Some two hundred yards ahead Armstrong walked along without undue haste, sublimely unconscious that he was being followed. He carried a Gladstone bag. The mysterious stranger had disappeared. But now a taxi drew out of a side-street and proceeded after Armstrong at a orawl. “The chase begins,” gloated Peck. “Follow, that taxi,’’ he told his driver. He leaned back then as though his part in the enterprise was at an end. “What in the name of Edgar Wallace does it mean?" mutterd Roddy. Peck chuckled. “Did I not say that you were under-rating our friend Armstrong? ■ He has stolen a march on us, you see." / -

At the end of the road Armstrong hailed a passing taxi-cab, and thereafter the chase qulokened. St. Paul’s loomed ahead—the prooession of three moved steadily west, now mingling with the main stream of traffio, now leaving it for the quieter by-ways. Neither Armstrong nor his shadower appeared to be conscious of pursuit, and with the exception of a serious hold-up in the traffic, the risk of losing sight of the quarry was slight. Skirting the vicinity of the Orient Club, Roddy remembered his promise to Pat. There would be no wire, of course. Her nerves had been on edge, that was all. Nevertheless, he w r ould call at the Club later as a matter of duty. Rather awkward if Armstrong was making for the open country, though. The ohase might end anywhere; land him perhaps miles from London with no ohance of getting baok the same night. And If Pat's fear should be more than a matter of jangled nerves— a premonition, a fCar of something oonorete, something she had not disclosed lest It should spoil his plans, then . . . apprehension gripped him for a moment. He came very near to telling Peok to drop him, but thrust the impulse aside. He •might be madly in love, but that was no reason why he should behave like a fool. He turned his thoughts to Armstrong. "What do you suppose he has In that‘bag?’’ he asked. “Something he took from Brisson’s safe, anyway.” “I have my own ideas," answered Peck, “or hopes, I should say. Perhaps I am unduly optimistic, but I would hazard a guess that Armstrong carries with him about twenty-five thousand pounds' worth of jewellery —I think that was the value Mrs Gretton herself placed on the articles, and ” Roddy gave a low whistle of satisfaction rather than surprise. “ And,” continued Peck, “possibly a small article of even greater importance. I refer to the unfortunate diary of t he —er —late Colonel Gretton. In a moment now, I think we shall see. Yes, Euston it is, as I surmised.” “He is taking them to Sandilands, to Pat?” Peck beamed at him. "We will not spoil his coup, Chester. Singlehanded, you know'. It is .rather an achievement, and It deserves its dramatio ollmax —the opening of the bag, exclamations of wonder and admiration; ours shall be as whole-hearted as though we knew nothing. Our task shall be to guard him and his precious freight upon the Journey. His life —I say it with the utmost gravity—is in serious joopardy." There was no time to reply for their car had drawn up at Euston Station. In the throng they lost sight of Armstrong and the stranger whose activities Peck seemed to regard in so sinister a light. But Peck displayed no concern. “Will you get the tickets?" he said. First-class, please. He Is more likely to travel first for the sake of seclusion." Roddy obeyed and found Peck awaiting him at the barrier. "We still have ten minutes beforo train time." he observed. “However, wo will stroll along. Armstrong Is in the third coach. Ills shadow I havo seen.” Peck stopped to purchaso enough paper-hacked literature to last him at least ten such Journeys, and, dialling volubly about nothing in particular, passed along the train as though looking for an empty compartment, lie paused at Armstrong’s carriage, and slopped in, and Roddy had to admit that Ills expressions of surprise and delight could not have been bettered. (To he coil iin end I