DESIGN for BLACKMAIL

Waikato Times, Volume 125, Issue 20995, 23 December 1939, Page 21 (Supplement)

DESIGN for BLACKMAIL

by J. L. MORRISSEY

CHAPTER XVl—(Continued) “I have here some new specimens of butterflies sent me from Florida," the old man went on, moving to the table. Taking up two large boxes, he opened one and showed McKnight the beautiful insects that were imprisoned beneath gauze within. One by one, he proceeded to take them out with the utmost care and precision. A minute amount of cyanide of potassium was placed in the killing bottle and a few drops of sulphuric acid poured in. The bottle was then tightly corked and each was scientifically killed. Then they were mounted with an engraved slip attached to each, giving all particulars of species, date of capture and place in natural history. McKnight watched his deft movements in silence and a new respect for his host was born in him. As the old man worked, the years seemed to fall away from him; he seemed to be twenty years younger and his fingers seemed as skilled as any surgeon's. Finally all was done and he looked up smiling. “Six more for my collection, McKnight” he said, looking lovingly at the gorgeously-hued insects with the long pins sticking through their bodies. The detective peered down at them and a slight shudder ran through him. The thing smacked of cruelty. He wondered if there was not a slight streak of sadism in Archerfield’s make-up.

“They are quite dead in the bottle?” he inquired with a gesture towards the killing bottles. “Oh, quite dead,” was the reply. “Believe me, it is as painless as a lethal chamber. Small as the amount is, enough prussic acid gas is generated in one of those bottles to kill several men. The insects feel nothing whatever and are quite dead when mounted. It would never do for their delicate wings to be bruised, you know. Oh, no, I never torture these specimens, McKnight.” The detective straightened up and glanced around the room. Completely lined with cases save at the doorway, there seemed no room for any other exit or ingress. With a start, he remembered the book he had been reading; the part about the secret passages. Then he gave a little laugh and followed Archerfield to the door. The exhibition was over. Carefully the old earl locked the door behind them and slipping the key into his pocket came out into the hall with McKnight. As they came out Bates approached them and with a murmured excuse, Archerfield left McKnight standing at the door. As they walked off together, McKnight looked after them and his head buzzed with suspicions of the butler. Then he gave a backward look at the stout locked door and with a shrug walked towards the library. Colhoun was there, moodily playing solitaire and he looked up with relief as McKnight entered. “The old boy has quite taken you to his bosom, hasn’t he? Been looking at the bugs and beetles?” “Partly, sir,” was McKnight’s smiling reply and the other stared. “How’d you mean—partly?” “Well, that museum interests me, apart from the ‘bugs and beetles.’ Why was it built without a window? Where is the ventilation? How is the space at the back and sides filled in? I’ve been studying some old maps of this house and there’s been several hints of the possibility oi secret passages existing that 1 haven’t heard much about while I’ve been here. Of course, these old maps aren’t much use because obviously the house has been pulled about and modernised a great deal in the last ten or twelve years. I’d give a great deal to see a modem plan of the place.” “Secret passages, eh?” mused Colhoun. “Sounds interesting, if true. So you’ve been chivvying round in the museum, have you?” Oh, not alone, I assure. I believe no one but our host and . . . and . . . friend Bates are allowed

in there alone.” “Have you made up your mind 3 to do anything about Bates, by the way?” 5 “No, there’s nothing I can do, 2 just at present, anyway. All I have t against the fellow is that it appears - as though the body of Hugh Powell 2 was swung out of his bedroom win--1 dow and the only evidence of that is - a hair of a rope, rather slender evi--2 dence. Again, from what you tell me, l he very probably followed me to : London, therefore presumably he i knows of my interest in the Silver - Dragon. That seems to prove what ; we feel must be true, namely, that he - has a part in the blackmailing band, s That makes two we know of, Bates ; and Powell. But both of these are only small fry. It’s the man at the . top I want. And where is he? I t don’t see that I’ll get any nearer to i this man (if it is a man), by interj fering with Bates. The best thing i would be to watch Bates and per--3 haps I might be led to the man higher up.” 1 “To me the situation seems uncanny,” observed Colhoun. “Here we . are, in a country house, a small t P ar ty, all the people known to us and i yet you lean to the view that the - head man of this gang is operating l from here. I’ve been thinking over l what you said out on the green, Me- ; Knight, and I’m inclined to think ; you’re wrong about that. After all, l why should the blackmailer operate from Deep Hollow? Why should , Bates have reported to him what he i learned from following you to London, when he got back here? Why . couldn’t he have gone to London to ; do that duty?” ! “Of course that may be so,” Mci Knight was forced to agree, “and if ; true, Bate’s presence here would ex- [ plain why your niece received a l letter immediately on arrival. If ) Bates is an agent he could certainly , find out enough to let his principal \ know that sfie had come h/ere and now I come to think of it, that fact is l the sole evidence from which I de- ’ duced that the head of the band was , situated in our midst. Maybe I have • been jumping to a conclusion too • quickly. But there’s one thing I i mustn’t lose sight of, you know. > Powell was certainly killed here and : his body is in all probability still > concealed somewhere at Deep Hol- . low, either in the house or in the 1 grounds. That alone is enough to i justify my continued presence and > once that affair is cleaned up, I ’ think the other will follow.” I “That reminds me, have you seen • Gerry to tell her of what you found ! in London?” asked the Commission- » er. | “No. I’ve scarcely had time yet • since I got back. I suppose I had better find her and put her mind at rest. Have you any idea where I • might find her?” “Not the But if you see ’ young Ewart, you’ll probably find her • somewhere near-by.” 1 McKnight went off with a smile and a brief look into the lower rooms eliciting no sign of the couple, he went out into the grounds. The dusk was beginning to deepen as he came out into the open and he felt a mo- ! ment’s doubt as to whether he should , continue his search. If the boy and girl were together out of doors on a ’ night like this, they would not welI come his presence, that was certain. ( He walked slowly round to the back of the house and as he came round the corner, he was almost ; dazzled by the glare of a pair of . bright headlamps. He jumped quick- ! ly to one side and as the car passed, he saw that it contained Ewart and the girl. The young man’s face was ’ in shadow but the girl’s was lit up ; by the glow of the dashboard lamp. And it was smiling happily and one . of her arms was entwined through that of the young man. | The car swept off down the drive and with a little smile, McKnight re- . traced his steps towards the house. With that smile on her face, the Com--1 missioner’s niece was not worrying over blackmailers’ letters and his news for her would wait. He forged his pipe afresh as he walked towards the front door and standing in the hall-way, he paused to light up. A glance into the hall showed it to be empty and a sudden impulse caused him to turn away and walk off across the lawn. The night was one of those perfect autumn nights, warm and mellow; the sky was like a purple blanket, dappled by a myriad pin-points of starlight. He drew in a deep breath of the warm scented air and decided that a walk j would do him good and also would enable him to marshal his thoughts into order. He walked slowly and with head bent, in deep thought and his way took him along the left wing of the house, where the ground sloped sharply down and the stone terrace stood a good six feet from ground level. His eyes were fixed on the ground beneath him and he did not see the shadowy form that flitted along the terrace just above him. But suddenly from nowhere, there came to him a premonition of something wrong, the warm dusk seemed to change to a coldness and with a shudder he jumped aside from his path. As he did so, a thunderbolt seemed to descend on him from above, his right shoulder felt as though it had been struck with a hammer; a black film spread over his eyes; he reeled and fell sprawling upon the grass. The dark figure on the terrace looked over at his still form spread-eagle on the grass, stood ! still for a moment watching and then ! turning, it melted into the 'shadows of the house.

CHAPTER XVII Hue and Cry With a muttered word of impatience, Colhoun swept the cards together on the table and getting to his ! feet stretched himself to his full j height, giving vent to a prodigious 1 yawn. He looked at his watch and j found that the time was just on nine- j thirty. Moving over to the sideboard, ! he poured himself a half-tumbler of whisky and drained it neat. “Where on earth has McKnight hidden himself?” he muttered, walking out into the hall. “It’s over half an hour since he left me.” The hall was empty and going out by the front door, he made his way round the house by the right wing until he came to the garages. He had overheard young Ewart saying something at dinner to Gerry about his car having been brought in and he decided that it was probably here that McKnight would have found them. Lloyd, the chauffeur, was washing down the limousine when he walked in and he straightened up and touch-

ed his cap to t.:« Commissioner. “Evenin’, sir. It’s a beauty of a night, sir. Are you l linking of a spin. I could take you—” “No! No!” interrupted Colhoun impatiently. “I’m looking for someone. Have you seen Mr McKnight round here this evening, by any chance?” “Would that be the gent I took to the station yesterday, sir? If that was him, no, sir, I ’avn’t. But the young gent, Mr Ewart—’m . and Miss Gerry went out for a drive almost an hour ago, sir. In ’is car they went. It was brought back this morning.” (To be continued)