EBONY TORSO

Wairarapa Times-Age, 11 September 1939, Page 10

EBONY TORSO

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

(By

JOHN C. WOODIWISS.)

CHAPTER XI. (Continued). Hopton made no comment, but nodned, and took a cigarette ease from his pocket. “D’you mind if I smoke, Miss Ferrier?” he asked, offering it to her. “No thanks; inspector, I never smoke but please nght up.” “Thanks,” he replied, passing a cigarette to Carlingford, “but I prefer a pipe.” “Well, don’t mind me, please.” Th inspector smiled his' thanks, and slowly filled his pipe. “You’re a non-smoker, then?” he continued. “Rather unusual for a lady these days?” ‘T’ve never started.”

“Splendid. Now, reverting to this Red Dave creature, Miss Ferrier, we were just discussing the reason why he failed to attempt your life last night. You’ve no explanation as to why he didn’t try to kill you?” “None whatever. I can only suppose my luck was in.” “It’s never struck you that he mayn’t have been after you at all?” asked Hopton with pointed emphasis," as he carefully noted her reactions. Miss Ferrier started perceptibly and blushed crimson.

“I’m afraid i don’t quite follow you,” she began, but the detective broke in sharply. “Red Dave was after your friend — the man who was here last night.” “Man?” she parried hopelessly. “What do you mean?” “I don’t care to add anything yet, Miss 'Ferrier, except to remind you that shielding a person accused of attempted murder, from justice, is a serious offence.”

“I still don’t follow you, inspector,” she answered defiantly. “Please explain.” “Further explanation is unnecessary at this stage,” heYeturned. “But don’t say I haven’t warned you.” During this conversaion the detective had noticed the woman’s, eyes darting towards the clock with an anxious "expression which made him suspicious.

“I won’t, inspector,” she answered. “And now, if you’ve finished what you’ve got to say, I have some work to do.”

' “I'm sorry to trouble you, madam,” he replied, “but I should be glad if you Would accompany one of my men to Kennington Mortuary and identify certain items of clothing as having belonged to the late Mrs Galesbourne.”

■T’m afraid that's quite impossible tonight,” she snapped back. “I’ve already told you I have some important work ”

“It would only take an hour. I have a car outside for you,” he urged. “Sorry, it can’t be done. I can't possibly go tonight.”

“I’m afraid I pmst insist, madam,’’ he retorted coldly. There was an electric pause as she stared at him furiously. ■' “Well, if it's absolutely necessary I suppose I'll have to do as you ask,” she replied at last. “Only I must run down to the ’phone-box outside and put off a friend who was coming here tonight.” “I’m sorry, Miss Ferrier, but that’s quite out of the question,” he smiled grimly. “To be completely frank, 1 don't want your friend to disappoint you. I want to see him myself when he arrives here.’’

“How dare you!” she cried, bristling with rage as she realized she was hopelessly caught. “I shall report this to the Commissioner: it’s an absolute outrage.” “Just as you please,” he answered coldly. “I’ll call up one of my men and you’ll oblige me by starting for Kennington at once.” “Oh, very well," she agreed defiantly. “But I warn you. I’ll make trouble about this! It’s nothing but ‘Third Degree.’ ” The Detective smiled broadly at this, outburst, and had risen to open the door when, without warning, a heavy portiere curtain which covered a small alcove by the left of "the fire was suddenly ripped aside and he found himself gazing down the barrel of an uglylooking automatic pistol held in the determined hand of the pseudo-priest, Galesbourne.

“Keep away from that door, Hopton, and stick ’em up, both of you!” he cried menacingly, as two pairs of hands shot up above the police officers’ heads. “Get me a length of rope, Girlie, and we’ll tie ’em up. The first one who makes a move, stops a bullet; remember, I’m desperate . . . and I’m an excellent revolver shot]” The woman hurried out of the room leaving the three men in a dramatic silence which was finally broken by the crook.

“I knew the game was up, Hopton,” lie remarked between his clenched teeth. “It was obvious we’d made a slip somewhere and that you’d got on to the idea I was hiding hero. May I ask what gave us away?” “Well, Galesbourne, if you particularly want to know, it was the 10 burn tout stub-ends of Egyptian cigarettes in that ash-tray on the mantlepiece. You must really start smoking a more ordinary kind of fag than Egyptians. As soon as I noticed the name on those slub-ends, I remembered you once invited mo to have one of that particular brand at St Luke's Vicarage, and, as only about one man in three thousand smokes such an expensive cigarette, the fact that you'd been here wasn’t hard to reach . . especially as I discovered Miss Ferrier doesn’t smoke. You may remember I offered her a cigarette just now in order to lest that important point, and she refused it.”

“Um, that was clever of you, Inspector,” said Galesbourne with sarcastic approval. “It’s a pity the Metropolitan Police Force will be deprived of your services,”

“What’s the game?” cried Carlingford, who had stood all this time silent and impotent with astonishment.

"My life against yours!” cried the crook fiercely.

“You mean you’re going to do us in?” questioned the Divisional Inspector.

“Vulgularly expressed, yes,” nodded the supposed parson. “I’ve no choice.” “You realise, of course, that you’re cornered, Galesbourne,” remarked Hopton casually. .“You’ll never get out of this house. Our men are all round —they’re even on the roof.” “So I gathered from your confident manner,” the crook assured him. “And that’s exactly why I’ve no time to waste.”

“As he spoke, Miss Ferrier returned with a length of stout clothes-line and stood waiting for orders. “Now then, my dear,” Galesbourne went on, “grab hold of this gun and don’t be afraid to press the trigger if either of these men moves or kicks up a row. You’re a good shot I know, and won’t miss.”.

He handed the pistol to her, and snatching up the rope began to secure Carlingford’s legs with a thoroughness that showed he was no novice in the gentle art of knotting and lashing. Hopton stood watching impotently, waiting a favourite moment to make a sudden leap at their female antagonist, in the hope of wrestling the gun from her; but she was too alert for him —so alert that he knew the slightest hostile movement would mean instant death.

“That's got his legs,” panted the sham priest as he tightened the knots. “When we’ve got these two fools roped up, we’ll put ’em in the cupboard with a bandage soaked in chloroform over their faces. There’ll be no noise thatiway—just an easy, painless death, friend Hopton—a nice long sleep from which there’ll be no waking up,” and he chuckled evilly at his cunning. The detective saw that Carlingford was almost secured, and that unless he could act at once he could soon be equally powerless. He had almost decide to risk the consequences of a sudden rush, when from outside in the street came three quick blasts from a motor-horn, the signal he had arranged with Morrell, who had been left in charge to warn him something tmusual was going on.

Galesbourne had turned from Carlingford and stood with his back to the window, stooping for the rope to tie his second enemy, when there came a terrific crash of glass as the wide panes shivered into a thousand pieces. So sudden was the interruption that both the bogus parson and his accomplice swung round to see the crouching figure of a man poised on the scaffold: ing outside, his face plainly visible in the brilliant light from the room—a terrible, malevolent face’ with black elf-locks upon the forehead and wild, mad eyes.

The actors in this drama stood petrified with astonishment, and then, quick as thought, there was a flash of steel from outside the window, as, with a wild, half-human cry, the creature swung back his arm and flung a knife at the man he hated. Galesbourne saw it, and hurled himself on the floor in the nick of time as the heavy weapon whizzed over him and buried itself quivering in the wall, while, at the same instant, the woman recovered her nerve and fired at the intruder, who instantly disappeared with another terrible cry. And at that moment, De-tective-Inspector Hopton, seizing his opportunity, flung himself forward and knocked the pistol from her grasp. Galesbourne was far from being beaten, he leapt to his feet and attacked the detective while his accomplice tried to snatch up the weapon, in which attempt, however, she was frustrated by Carlingford who, seeing his comrade’s peril, flung himself off the chair on which he was sitting and lay on the pistol while the desperate woman kicked wildly at his face and body.

Backward and forward struggled the two men, reducing tables and chairs to matchwood as each strained and panted for mastery. From below came the smashing of woodwork as the front door crashed inwards before the invading police, and the thud of their footfalls could be heard on the stairs. Galesbourne had gripped the detective’s collar in an iron grasp and was slowly choking him into submission, when a wild scream from the woman told him the door was burst open and he was dragged backwards by Morrell and half a dozen other officers who crowded into the room. Even against such heavy odds the desperate man continued to struggle so violently that it was not until the handcuffs had clicked upon his wrists that he ceased his efforts and stood, beaten, a picture oi ball led rage, with blood-shot eyes and foam-flecked lips, “Well, you’ve got me this time, curse you, Hopton! he snarled as the detective rose panting from the floor.

Got that chap, Morrell?” inquired the Inspector, pointing to the window. “No. sir, he climbed up one of the scaffold poles on to the roof. They’re after him though, and I expect they’ve got him by now.”

“Come on. then!” cried Hopton. “Get the ropes off Mr Carlingford and have the prisoners put under lock and key as.soon as possible: I must get after that chap on the roof. He mustn’t escape whatever happens,” an leaving his men to carry out his orders, he ran downstairs and out into tne street. The whole thoroughfare was crowded with police, and a surging mass of onlookers, who stood gazing upwards and pointing excitedly. Hopton grabbed the nearest constable by the arm and inquired if Red Dave had been taken.

(To be continued)