Vampire of the Skies

Waikato Times, Volume 113, Issue 18929, 26 April 1933, Page 4

Vampire of the Skies

By JAMES CORBETT.

; CHAPTER XIV (Continued.) DdCre pushed the marmalade pot actoss two Inches. lie hated to be mean, but that was the only preserve lie liked. Then the smile returned to his face. In a few words lie related what Murray had told fiirii th 6 previous evenittg. Leila, had returned td the hotel at a iate nour, and had gone straight to bed. TO be perfectly truthful, she had spent the intevening time consoling Mary Brookes for the loss of her friend, "So yOti see," Caere observed, between another mouthful of toast, "we do not happen to be chasing a shadow. That odd suspicion I formed about a mystery woman is proving correct, and Hardy has evolved Into a greater enigma than ever. But one of these days he is going ttf experience a rude shook* He may even wish that Never mind. Forget what I was saying." Lena gasped. She turned suddenly pale. Her lips trembled. "But why do you not make an immediate, arrest?” she asked In a low voi-oe.

“Ort what charge?” “The murder of those two girls. Dacre expressed his disgust. Why had this supposedly clever girl not more logic? Did she really write him down a nincompoop? Was bo nothing but a blithering goat in her eyes? . "And what then?” he demanded. "After the arrest, Where is the proof? If Hardy Is the man I want, and mind .you* I have not made a definite statement—he has thoughtfully destroyed his airplane by fire, Every scrap of criminal evidence has been eliminated. No, my lady of the pen, when I arrest a murderer, I want to 1 see that he is hanged, and if this monster of the skies is coming into my net, then he is going to be caught red-handed. Have that last slice of toast, and pass the marmalade, please.'" x Lena continued the meal In a constrained silence. She knew that Cadre was right.

If Hardy was the demon who committed those ghoulish crimes, thee the detective would require absolute proof of his guilt. "And the inquest this afternoon?" she enquired. “I fear that will have to be postponed. i am engaged this morning on most important work —the identification of the second victim—and 1 have no Idea how long it will .last Ah, here is a message of some kind."

it was the head waiter to say that Caere Was wanted on the telephone. Caere followed him at once. It was Inspector Murray speaking from Octtingdale,

" ’Morning Murray," Dacre called Out, “don’t tell me Gutteridge has been poisoned." “Something more serious than that,’’ the inspector laughed. "We have kept a strict watch On Mountdaie, Mr Dacre, and you will be interested to hear that Major Hardy has returned by a side entrance, but dressed in his ordinary clothes. According to the housekeeper he went to bed yesterday afternoon, and we have been watching Mountdaie ever since, I have seen Major Hardy return with my own eyes but, acting on your Instructions, I have kept out of sight and made no attempt to speak to him.” , "Anything serious, Mr Dacre?" he questioned in an awe-struok whisper. “Very serious Indeed I” was the reply.

When they reached suite No. 5 on the second floor, Dupont tapped imperatively on the door. He also called out his own name, and at that the door was instantly opened. “Come inside, Dupont,” the baronet said in a pleasant voice. ‘‘What the devil is wrong? Whom have we here? Ah, Malcolm Daore of Scotland Yard I I think 1 recognise you, my good fellow. Come in, both of you, and tell me your troubles. There are the cigars. I was ,just polishing off a few .'letters ffir the first mall, but thoy will have to stand over. Sit down, gentlemen. Make yourselves at home in my apartment.” The two men entered together, the manager closing the door. “Yes, this Is Mr Dacre of Scotland Yard,” Dupont affirmed. I have no idea what ho wants to see you about, Sir Robert, but he asked me to come along, I am afraid it is rathor bad news of some kind.” The financier turned in his chair. “Bad news?" he queried with a smile. “Well,' I hope Mr Daore has not come to arrest me on a chargo of murder!' It is not as bad as that, surely?" ' Dacre shook his head. He refused to smile.

His face remained insofutftble. “I am very pleased to meet you, Sir Robert," he said .In a grave voice, “but Dupont here is quiet right, 1 am the bearer of the most distressing news, and I hardly know how to begin,” The baronet waited patiently.

He was a short, type, with twinkling grey eyes, and a very shrewd face. As a financier he was famed throughout England, and at present lie was in Weymouth on a short vacation. Ife had been a widower for ten years, and had a large country house outside London. His town address was at Grosvehor Square,

“Well, I am waiting,” lie said in a hard voice. “Reiter let us havo it Dacre. This is not the first time I have faced had tidings." Dacre. seemed at a complete loss, lie hated Ihc job on hand, but thero was no help for it. He cleared liis throat. ,

“I am sorry io tell you that, your daughter lias been murdered," ho said quietly. The silence was terrible.

Tile baronet swayed a little in his scat.

Dupont staggered to the nearest chair.

“Murdered 1" Sir Robert repeated in a far-off voice. If contained not the slightest tremor. lie was incapable of realisation. If was like listening to some voice on the wireless, a voico that referred to something entirely in,personal. “Murdered I 1 don’t understand, Dacre. I am afraid you have made a blunder of some kind. Dupont, explain to him that my daughter Louise Is staying in Portland with her cousin. She went there for the week-end, and, so far as I know. In perfectly safe. . . . There has been some stupendous mistake." The hotel manager rose to his feet. lie was acting in blind obedience to the command. He approached the detective in an awe-struck manner. “Louise Anderson is with her cousin

CHAPTER XV,

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

’’Follow My Leader.”

(To be continued.)

In Portland," he repeated in a low voice. "1 know that for a fact, Mr Caere. As Sir Robert says, his daughter left here on Friday evening last, and she Is due back again some time to-night. It was Just for the weekend visit. Surely it is some case of mistaken identity 1" "I wish to heaven It was," Caere muttered fervently. "Unfortunately, it is only too true. Have you not read the morplng papers, gentlemen?" Dupont gave a little smothered cry. His hand raised Itself to his forehead.

He stared at Caere with wild eyes. "My God— *" he commenced.

But the baronet only looked at both men in a dazed manner.

"No, I haven’t glanced at the papers yet," he replied. "What has happened, Dacre? Tell me like a man. Don't prolong the agony In this fashion.

The expert handed him a copy of the London Sentinel.

Sir Robert put on his glasses with slow precision. He read the account of the second airplane tragedy.

“That girl is your daughter 1" Dacre said in a sad voice.

Sir Robert Anderson rose slowly to his feet. Both his hands trembled. A terrible greyness overspread his face.

“But how do you make that out?" hu demanded. “My daughter has never gone up in an airplane, Not to my knowledge at least. I tell you she is with her cousin In Portland. Why do you keep on saying it is my daughter? Tell me the truth, What have you found? You are keeping something back I” Dacre nodded.

“Yes, I discovered-one pointer to identity,” he answered, "and it was all 1 needed. I refer, Sir Robert, to the shoes worn by the girl in that airplane. They were only recently purchased from Marchland & Co., 17 Upper Brook Street, Weymouth. The size was 3.l2—an exceptionally small shoe—and both Insteps had to be altered considerably. To make a long description short, the shoes had to be specially ordered for your daughter, and they were sent on to this hotel last Thursday night, The assistant described the purchaser to me with great accuracy, and that description IS identical with the murdered girl, it is for you to confirm the dreadful tidings for yourself, May I offer nfy heartfelt sympathy, and my assurance tnat the murderer will yet bo caught.’ But the stricken baronet was not listening. It is doubtful If be heard the last words. . He swayed like a drunken man and fell heavily on tile floor,

Before lunch a message came through from Chief Chiistftble MUIr. Dacre rushed to the telephone. "Important news from Inspector Murray!" the Chief telephoned. “An airplane has landed at Mountdaie Mr Dacre. It must be a new machine ordered by Major Prank Hardy. The plane came down Inside the Mountdale grounds, and Hardy Is giving It a thorough inspection. He may go off In It at any moment. What are your instructions?” Daore smiled. , . He was always tickled to death by the panic of a Chief Constable. “Well, If he goes off, give him my kind regards,” Dacre said cynically. "But do not forget to keep him under observation, Chief, and ask Murray to report the next move without delay. I have not taken out an Insurance policy on Hardy, but I am Tather interested In his welfare. Also drop a word in the ear of Holmes. Tell him to keep off the drink and have his plane In readiness, and if Hardy Is so mean as to go off without bidding us goodbye, tell Holmes to go Up after him, and wish him Godspeed. But tell Him not to trail Hardy In too obvious a manner. I want Information, not a capture. Do you understand, my dear Muir?” "Quite, Mr Daore. Anything else?"

“Yes, I am going to have that inquest postponed. It would depress me terribly just now, so you must see the Coroner, and make the necessary application. You know, of course that the second victim has been identified. I see it was in -the noon edition of the local paper. Well, I cannot promise, any fireworks, but there -may be a chance of aircraft developments. They toll me Sir Robert Anderson went over to Inspect the body. Poor old chap, I surmise he wbb In a bad state. He Is nearly heart-broken with grief.”

“Yes, that girl was the light of his eye,” the Chief Constable affirmed. “I never saw a man so fearfully upset, Mr Dacre. Mr Dupont brought him along In his private car, and when the baronet saw It was his only daughter, and witnessed the ghastly mutilation by the murder’s knife, heavens, I thought the shock -was going to he too much for him. As it was, we had to carry him into another room, and that little nip of brandy from Gutterldge came In handy. Sir Robert collapsed In our hands, then cried for an hour like a child. I never want to see anything like that again. I fear he won’t get over this business." “Am afraid not," Dacre affirmed sympathetically. “He was certainly the picture of despair this morning, and lie fell in a dead quaint. I think hij heart must bo affected, so if a stroke comes it is going to mean the end. Well, Muir, lam exceedingly obliged for ringing me up. I am Just completing some important work in Weymouth, but do not forget to ring m-e up if there is anything fresh to report.