Vampire of the Skies

Waikato Times, Volume 113, Issue 18926, 21 April 1933, Page 8

Vampire of the Skies

CHAPTER XIII. (Continued.) “What!" he exclaimed. “Have you been drinking, my friend? Are you telling me there has been another murder—a second body flung from an airplane?" Dacre nodded.

By JAMES CORBETT. (Author of “The White Angel,” "Murder at Red Grange,” etc.)

“Nothing less than that,” he sighed. “It occurred this morning after breakfast, and it completely spoilt my lunch, for I saw the last part of the tragedy with my own eyes. So did Miss Somerton, which proves that you will have to stop poking fun at poor Gutteridge. He deserves a medal and an illuminated address." The Frenchman gasped. lie was trying hard to express his profound consternation. Ilis blue eyes stared. “But, Mon Dieu,” he protested, “this thing has 'no precedent in history. Why, even in the war days, Dacre, w-e did not hurl human bodies out of airplanes! In all my career there has been nothing like it. And in the Cottingdale area! What the devil is the meaning of it? Yes, I will apologise to Gutteridge on my knees. I will even subscribe to a wreath at his funeral. He has become famous for all time, and to-morrow they will be writing about him in the Figaro 1 While your London papers ! Tiens, they will be ghastly during the next few days. Dacre, I offer you my professional sympathy. You are faced with the perfect crime. Not a pointer, not a solution, not a finger-mark! Is it not so?”

Lena had only uttered a few words. She was keeping strangely quiet. SomehSw this Frenchman was distasteful in her eyes.

“Yes,” Dacre answered, “I am going to be busy, but rest assured I will get my man. I never fail, Monster Cambon. I always get my man!" “I wonder!” M. Cambon muttered softly. He threw away a cigarette and lit another. He leaned forward. “Let me have the details,” he begged. “Describing, everything that happened this morning, mon ami. Then I will see if I can offer any help. Perhaps I can think of something that has not occurred to you." Dacre gave a quiet recital of the second crime. The Frenchman listened in perfect silence. lie sat there like a stone image. “Don’t you think it all very terrible?” Lena asked for the first time. “Even now, Monsieur Cambon, we have not quite recovered from the shock. We have been trying to forget it all, making silly .little jokes and drinking champagne, but I shall never forget that falling body, or what I saw afterwards " Her voice melted away in a dry sob. She w T as quivering with girlish terror. The horror of It all came back afresh 1 M. Cambon expressed his complete sympathy. “My dear young lady," he announced, “you are perfectly right. Those two crimes will stagger imagination for weeks. And it means only one thing, Dacre—that a lunatic is at large in the air. lie must be caught Inside a given number of hours. If not, then you know what is going to happen. Those crimes are only the beginning of a series *■" The Yard man nodded assent. He was strangely unperturbed. Dacre had always control of himself. “That," he replied, “is why I am so anxious for the second victim to t> e identified." Cambon stared hard. “You have really found no pointer?" he enquired. Dacre gazed at the table-cloth. “Yes," he said grimly, “I am on the track of one man, and that Is where you may be able to help." The Frenchman gave a start of surprise. Lena watched him with a critical directness. What was coming?

“You keep me guessing,” M. Cambon remarked. “Where do I come in?” He threw the girl another glance of genuine admiration, but Lena stared through him as If at a blank wall.

“I am concerned with a Major Frank Hardy,” Dacre said slowly., “tie lives at a place called Mountdale, out in the Cottlngdale district, and he has been in possession of an airplane. He has been away from Mountdale for two days, but he returned before lunch In a dramatic manner, crashing his machine, which went on fire, and escaping himself in a parachute. That man interests me profoundly, Monsieur Gambon.” To this statement there was an astonishing reply. The Frenchman seemed to turn suddenly livid. Real anger betrayed itself in every line of his face. “What an unconscious blunder you’ve made," he groaned. “Good Lord, Dacre, you have trespassed right’on my territory. Look here, let me give you a Stale secret I have allowed you to think I am here on holiday, but that is one of my tactical moves, for I have come from France to watch a big criminal. Ido not know if I am watching the right man, remember, but I happen to have fastened on the individual you mention. 1 also am concerned in the spiritual welfare of. Major Frank Hardy. Now, what do you think of that for a confounded coincidence? Dacre knocked the ash from his cigarette. lie glanced across at M. Cambon with an impassive countenance. Then he smiled enigmatically. “Ah, my dear Cambon, that Is unfortunate,” he remarked. “Now, fancy two of us chasing the same liare'l Two guys after one bird! \VMI what do you wish me to do? You ’ infer that I am trespassing, don't you think that is putting it a Iriile too stronglj ? Gambon glared at him. “Let us stop fooling," he counselled. “Don’t you 'see my point, Dacre? If you mess around Mountdale and give Hardy a* hint that ho is under suspicion of any kind then my goose is cooked, and Hardy won’t fall into the trap that 1 am planning for him. 1 want to catch my bird in the net, but it is a little too early to ensnare him, Hull’s all." “What have you against him?” “Murder. The crime was committed in Paris a mouth ago, and 1 have traced my man to the region of Cottingdale. That is why 1 am in Weymouth. I submit, Dacre, that my case claims precedence." Dacre frowned.

“1 cannot agree," lie argued. “You may allow your mail to escape, M. Cambon; but I cannot afford freedom

(To be continued.)

to the one I suspect. I have no evidence against Hardy up to the present—no concrete data, I mean—but there are certain points I wish to verify; then 1 may aot with greater decision, i am sorry, Cambon, but there is no compromise. I must keep Hardy under observation, and I must conduct this airplane mystery as I think fit. There is my challenge." Lena gasped. She had listened breathlessly to every word. Were these two famous experts going to quarrel? Cambon lit his third cigarette. “Well, what is it you want me to do?” he queried. “We seem to have got into a slight mess, but perhaps we can accommodate each other. How can I help, Dacre?” The Yard man never moved. "I should like you to get in touch with your Paris agents,” he remarked. “Hardy says he is interested in some French railway syndicate, that he stayed at the Hotel Carillon in the Bois de Vendome, and that he lodged his airplane at Le Touquet aerodrome. I am all for speed at present, and you know your Paris as I know London. I want' those details confirmed at the earliest moment.” Cambon heaved a sign. It sounded very much like relief. A smile touched his lips. "That will be easy," he promised. “You will have a cable inside a few hours. The Prefect of Police in Paris is my personal friend. He will -see that I am not kept waiting. It is a promise, friend Dacre, and your request I will carry out with pleasure," Lena rose. She glanced at her watch, and saw it was time to go. Dacre understood. “You two have given me an awful fright," she declared. “I really thought you were coming to blows, and I was getting ready for a first - olass sensation In a Weymuoth Hotel, but it has all ended very tamely, and I am going tc keep an appointment. Will you excuse me, gentlemen? I have to meet a friend who really must not be kept waiting." Both men rose to their feet. M. Cambon bowed low once again. No one could have been more polite. “To our next meeting,” he said with a charming smile. Daore merely gave a friendly nod. Then, three minutes later, a waiter came to him with an urgent, message. “A police officer to see you, Mr Dacre, and lie says it is very important.”