John Smith – Blackmailer

Waikato Times, Volume 112, Issue 18778, 28 October 1932, Page 4

John Smith - Blackmailer

CHAPTER XXIX (continued.) “Well, well, well! This is a surprise—a very pleasant surprise, Mr Armstrong. Look who is here, Chester. Why, we were only talking of you a few minutes ago as we came along." . _ ~ “Talk of the devil,” laughed Roddy. “How-do," Armstrong greeted them with -bluff good-humour. “What brings you north again, Mr Peck? A frown of childish petulance crossed Simon Peck’s face. “I can’t understand it. It’s really most aggravating. And it isn t as if I can be of the least use. But Inspector Brand has insisted that I should appear at the re-opening of the inquest." “Oh, and when Is that?" Armstrong asked In surprise. “ I hadn’t heard about it, but then I’ve been busy in town." , , , “Oh!" exclaimed Peck knowingly. “You say that as though Mr Armstrong, do not keep us in suspense. I well remember our last meeting. You made me very curious then. There have been —developments? You have succeeded when we—l frankly admit it now—where we failed?” It would not have been Armstrong if he had not relished the compliment to his' superiority. “All in good time,” he said, favouring Peck with an indulgent grin. “And that ain’t now. I’ll tell you soon enough." . ~. The train began to draw out of the station. Roddy’s gaze, which had rested reflectively for a moment on the Gladstone bag in the rack above Armstrong’s head, now wandered to the corridor. ' Someone was standing there with his back to- them. Now he moved on, but not before Roddy had recognised the grey voluminous raincoat.- Peck apparently had not noticed; his eyes were fixed too eagerly on Armstrong. “When?” he asked. “Well, that’s fair enough,” agreed Armstrong In his hearty way. You 11 maybe think I’m bluffing. So we 11 fTx an appointment, eh? Ten o'clock in the morning at Greyscar. How’s that?" , ~ “Excellent. But could you make it eleven? I must see Brand first, and I can assure you I shall not mince words unless that’s a good idea. I’ll drop off at Lancaster to-night. Very well, ten o’clock, then." The journey passed uneventfully. Peck absented himself once for a few minutes, and until tea was served occupied himself with his papers. As they moved along the corridor to the dining saloon with Armstrong in front, Peck contrived to whisper to Roddy. “He is in the next compartment—cap over his face— feigning sleep. Stick close to Armstrong till he reaches Sandilands Station —wait for me at Greyscar." Roddy obeyed these instructions to the letter. “'Apparently, so long as Armstrong was not alone he was safe. But at Sandilands Station all thought of Armstrong’s danger vanished. For Rachel was there on the platform. Before she spoke, he knew from her worried face that something was amiss.

"Oh, Roddy, thank God you got it in time,” she cried. “I hardly dared to hope that you would be on this train.”

“Got what? Rachel, what is it? — Pat?"

"I wired you,” said Rachel, looking bewildered. “Pat is missing. I’m worried to death about it."

Roddy seized her arm. “Come on. Here’s Doggart, I see, with the car. Greyscar, quick as you like, Doggart. Now-, tell me, Rachel” “She hasn’t been seen since nine this morning. Doggart says she went for a walk—into the wood, he thinks. We thought it rather odd that she didn’t turn up when Vera went. She was going with her as far as Lancaster in the car.” “What time did Vera go?"

“They were all ready to start at ten-thirty, but Vera held on as long as she could. I think she was more puzzled than alarmed, otherwise sue would surely have stayed. When it got to twelve o’clock I wired you.” “ I didn’t get it,” said Roddy, “but here|l am, anyway, and Rial’s all that matters.” His face had gone verywhite. “God, we’ve got to find her.”

it is one thing- to be ready to go through fire and water, but another when neither the fire nor the water can be persuaded lo show themselves. Roddy did not know which way to turn. Everything that could be done had been done already—and now it was dark, an Inky black night. Where to begin? What to do? He was on the point of tearing his hair in frenzy at the inaction when Peck arrived, and Instinctively Roddyturned to him. Peck would help—he would have ideas, at the least — something to set him in action. Anything was better than this suspense. Peck’s usual expression of childish delight in the world at large died instantaneously when ho heard the news. Roddy could never have believed those hard little eyes of his oould look so human, so ominously grave. "This is terrible,” he said, in a low voice, and it was as though a new man, quite a stranger to them all, had spoken. “Pray God we are in time. Come, Chester. Doggart, too.” “But where?” Roddy demanded. "We’ll find Armstrong first.” “Armstrong 1 What use is that?” Roddy exploded in exasperation. “For God’s sake, if there's anything we can do, let us do it, and not waste time.” “There is something you can do,” answered Peck quietly. “You can put yourself in my hands —unreservedly.” Roddy searched ills face eagerly for a glimmer of hope, but those glittering eyes remained hard and expressionless. Roddy, for all Ills frenzy of suspense, was not lacking when it came Lo a straight “yes’- or “no.” Ills answer was more than an affirmative; it, was a pledge Of trust, a .surrender absolute. “Right."

"Come llion. Bui first, preparalions—pray lit .mmi limy won’t bo 'Hooded. A small sponge, a iiltlo ammonia -you, Boggart, fetch them, quick." In tlie meantime Armstrong had been driven home in a hackney car. Ills own limousine, he noted, was standing with bonnet protruding from the garage. Hallows admitted him. Less than half-an-hour later a shadow' detached itself from the deeper gloom tinder the trees and moved silently to tlae door. The bell rang within and Hallows, opening the door, saw the figure of ft man clad in a grey raincoat, whose face was shaded by a cap pulled well down. "I want to see Mr Armstrong," was feu reciuest.,^

BY Lindsay Hamilton. (Author of “ The Blaok Asp,” “ The Jaokal," eto.) AN ENTHRALLING AND THRILLING STORY.

“Not to-night, you can’t,” replied Hallows with blunt insolence.

“Oh, very well," said the stranger, raising his voice, “I will call again in the morning.” As he said it his right arm shot out and a life-preserver descended with a orack upon Hallow’s skull. Deftly he caught the sagging body, closed the door with a slam, and then cautiously and silently dragged the inanimate form into the cloak-room on the right. Locking the door, he pocketed the key. CHAPTER XXX. When Pat set out for her walk that morning her thoughts directed her steps up the Greybarrow trade to the point where first she and Roddy had met. She lingered there awhile, dwelling with tender laughter on the incident. How much more real w-as the living Roddy than the one she had imagined. How lightly she had talked in those days before his coming of making him love her. Love! What had she known then of love? She touched her lips tenderly with her fingers, believing almost that she could feel still the heart-suffocating thrill of his kiss. How- hard he had fought to take, no more than just that —the kiss of a pal.

Oh, Roddy, if you only knew! She wandered to the end of the track, blissfully wrapped In her dreams. The chiming of the church clock presently recalled her to more mundane affairs. She must hurry back. Vera would be leaving in half-an-hour. Through the wood, would be the quickest way. As she was passing behind Armstrong’s house she chanced to look up. Only two of the top .windows were visible, but at one of them a drama, horrible in its silent intensity,’ was being enacted. She stood there watching, dazed, incredulous. That agonised, distorted face at the Window-! It seemed to be screaming, yet she heard no sound- —it could not be —it was, it was Lena! She was fighting, fighting against Invisible hands that dragged her back. Now she was gone—nothing to be seen but the blank window-panes.

All thought of Vera vanished In an instant. Burning with indignation Pat marched straight to the front door of Armstrong’s house and rang the bell. There was no answer. She rang again and hammered with her fists upon the door. At last footsteps sounded in the hall. It was Hallows who opened the door. “You’ve got Lena in this house somewhere," she began with an uncompromising air of determination. “If she isn’t released at once. I shall bring the police.” Hallows’ evil face twisted in what lie meant, no doubt, to be an ingratiating smile. “I assure you, Miss Kean, you are mistaken."

“Will you bring her this minute, or shall I summon Constable Rutter?” demanded Pat. "I saw her face at one of the back-room windows not more than two minutes ago.” “I see I shall have to tell you the truth," said Hallows. “Though I did hope to keep it quiet. I can. trust your kind heart to keep another man’s sorrow a secret? It seems I’ll have to." "Well?” “You did see a woman, but it wasn’t your missing maid. It was Mr Armstrong’s wife. She Is mad, poor thing a homicidal maniac, and ’’ “I don’t believe It," asserted Pat stoutly. “Very well, Miss. Seeing is believing. She’s quiet now. You shall see for yourself.” “I will." The possibility of treachery did not occur to Pat until it was too late. Hallows had closed the door and was removing his green baize apron. "This way, Miss.” He passed behind her and, as she turned, swung the apron over her head and bound her arms tight against her body. She struggled like a wildcat, but he was too strong for her and his arms, gripping her like bands of steel, dragged her through a door into a room. lie released one arm for an instant while he snatched something from a drawer and she almost broke free, but he had her again, carrying her in his rush across the room, where sire fell heavily against a settee, lie held her down pressing his knee savagely into her back. She felt the prick of a needle in her shoulder. She was exhausted, but still tried to struggle. A faintness, an increasing lassitude crept over her. Her head swam. The room grew dark —it’s blackness rose up to engulf her. She lay there now, white and still.

*** # * The first flicker of re-awakenlng consciousness manifested Itself In a splitting headache. Her Involuntary groan brought a new sensation —of oppression. Something was bound about her mouth —her hands, her feet, they were dead, she could not move them. She opened her eyes. She was In darkness, her feet and hands were tied and she was gagged, unable to cry out. Panic seized tier. Then, suddenly, she remembered. The panic died, giving place to cold shuddering horror. Lena’s distorted face . . . Hallows . . . what would tie do with her? . . .'her mother’s fate!

Voices! Hallow’s and —-yes, Mr Armstrong’s. Oh, If site could only cry out! Would ho come to tins room? Discover his man-servant's villainy? A sick feeling assailed her. If Hallows had anything lo fear whyhad ho left her where his master might so easily find her? No. They were passing. A door open'’:!— 1! must be somewhere close by. oppo site the door of tills room perhaps Another voice—a woman's, tense metallic. Whore had she heard it before? “Cot them?"

‘‘Yes. Here, Hallows, pel. every ' I thing ready, and he damned ‘tuiek | ahhuL it. Attend to Unit slie-dev;! upstairs. We’ll have to take her.’’ Then the woman, cool and Insolent ‘'What’s Idling you. Ted? Whin's limning this show, you or mo? You're j, not losing your nerve, are you?” (To lie eonLiu'.ied.) j i