"DEATH GOES BY 'BUS"

Wairarapa Times-Age, 7 December 1939, Page 12

"DEATH GOES BY 'BUS"

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

COPYRIGHT.

BY

LESLIE CARGILL

(Author of “The Yellow Phantom,” “The Arrow by Night,” etc.)

CHAPTER XXIV. Continued. “Well, it might. Anyway, that's better than being strung up at the end of a rope. You might get a chance, too, if you decide to turn King's evidence at the trial. Those five years you spoke about ought to be considerably whittled down. “I’m not a squealer.” “We all know that. Only, you see. the police have everything cut and dried by now, so that it wont make any difference whether you open your mouth or not. Think it over. There were sounds of heavy footsteps outside and the door was suddenflung open. “What’s going on here?” snarled the Inspector. Beside him stood another plain clothes man, whose eyes almost goggled out of his head. “Just clearing up some of the mess,” murmured Morison Sharpe. Hilliard’s glace roved round until he came to the form of the Gieek. “Dead?” he asked laconically. “I don’t think so. We had a bit of an argument and I got the best oi it. The Inspector could not suppress‘a laugh. “Of all the rum does,’ he spluttered, “this is the rummiest I’ve ever known.” Mr Sharpe.did not answer. He was busily engaged tearing up an envelope he had taken from the pocket of the coat, which he had had passed to him. As he had to use his mouth owing to the injured arm it was an awkward process. “What are you doing” inquired the curious Inspector. Ejecting a lump of paper, Mr Sharpe grunted: “In a melodramatic moment I wrote down the name of the culprit and told your Superintendent I would hand it on to him at a suitable moment today. Thinking it over I realise that it was a piece of theatrical foolishness." Hilliard was incredulous. “I suppose you'd got the name wrong." he observed ironically. “On the contrary, I was right.” “As usual,” retorted the Inspector drily. Mr Sharpe bowed. CHAPTER XXV. Chief Constable Martinshawe was pleased and. peeved simultaneously. The pleasure was due to the successful outcome of the Netherton Bus mystery investigations. Mixed with it was bewilderment at the many ramifications that had been uncovered. Against Gardopoulos the case was clearly defined. He had confessed at great length, ’implicating his confederates. Like a rat driven into a corner no considerations of comradeship kept him from turning on'friend and foe with equal viciousness.

"It means half a dozen cases," grumbled the major. "And that adds to the delay.”

Maxley agreed. “We shall have to ( call Gardopoulos as a witness against , the jewel robbers.” he remarked. "But - it can’t be helped. This business has , been so complicated that there’s bound , to be a bit of bother straightening it : all out. The Hanson woman is well out of it for one. What about Smith? i Martinshawe smiled. "You know ■ the regulations," he retorted. “Evi- , dence must be given without fear or favour, notwithstanding any promises or threats . . . .” “And all that sort of thing, sir! Yes, I know it by heart. I've heard it for years. ' We don’t exactly depend on him. although his story helps rather a lot" “Then don’t bother about it too much. Of course, he is in it up to the neck over the jewel business, but there will be a .lot in his favour. Understand?” The chief winked most unprofessionally. It was the day before the first hearing and there was still a number of loose ends to be drawn in. They knew most of the facts and Gardopoulos had filled in many blanks. Calib Wainwright had been the ring leader, and the most desperate member of 'the gang. They had worked internationally. That means they had to set up a clearing house for their stolen property. Over many years this organisation had been built up to a wonderful state of efficiency. | To the Greek came most of the jewels. and it would have been better for the gang had he not introduced a private side line of dope smuggling. Miss Hanson had been in on. this, assisted by Huntley Young, whose position lent itself to disposing of this stuff. When Wainwright found out, he tried to stop it. insisting that one form of crime was sufficient. That was why they fell out in the first place. Angered at the behaviour of his associates. Caleb determined to cut adrift at the very moment he had pulled off a big coup. It was discovered that he had ti small fortune tucked away in various banks, so the probability was that he intended to retire on the proceeds of his criminal activities. Then came the cracking up of Agatha Hanson, who had long borne a deep grudge against her leader because of what had happened many years ago. John Smith was their son I —a fact he had only recently known. 1 ' What tangled matters up more than 1 ever was that Smith. Young and Agatha Hanson were at first unaware oi Wainwright’s secession. They were . indulging in subsidiary activities when Gardopoulos appeared in the Midlands intent on revenge. That was how the whole gang came to be aboard the! > motorbus when it left Colborough on | ■ its fateful journey. I !j The Hanson woman had been feel-1 ' ing the strain. No doubt she wished 1 to kill Wainwright, which had played

on her mind to the extent of making her imagine she had actually committed the deed.

Gardopoulos waited his opportunity. The mechanical troubles with the exhaust system of the bus played into his hands, and he merely had to keep the revolver out of sight and. fire at the psychological moment. Afterwards, under cover of the excitement, he slipped the weapon into .Smith's pocket, believing it was bound to bring suspicion on to him.

Smith found it before the police appeared on the scene and disposed of it by the simple expedient of placing it in the conductor’s ticket box. That was a mistake. He had not foreseen that the police would learn of Jeremy Withers’ incursion into the sphere of crime or that the incident .with the toy pistol would lead to his own arrest.

When that came about he still kept mum through a mistaken sense of honour among thieves. Probably he did not believe that the charge would bo sustained, and in the final emergency his tongue might have been loosened. Throughout the preliminary investigations the police were handicapped by the spate of lies that poured from the defensive gang. Those who could have helped had too much to lose by telling the truth,. so that false trails were continually being laid. “Mr Sharpe’s the man to thank for putting us right,” Maxley conceded. “Without his help we should have been in a hopeless state.”

Major Martinshawe was not willing to give too much credit to a mere member of the public. “I think you exaggerate, superintendent,’ he said. “You'd have managed all right on your own.”

Maxley shook his head. “1 hope so, sir, but I'm afraid it wouldn’t have been so easy as you think. That man has a wonderful faculty for thinking ahead of everybody else. You ought to recognise it officially." The Chief Constable relented. “Very well,” he said. “Ask him to come along and see me. An inscribed gold watch ought to meet the case. What do you think?” “Quite a nice gesture, sir. Mr Sharpe is a modest man and wouldn't wish to come into the limelight. Leave it until after the Assizes . . .” “No need to call on him to give evi-

dence?” “Oh no, sir, not the slightest. In fact. I don't think he could say much that would be admissible. Except, perhaps, regarding the incident when he called and fought with the accused at the dockside office. They wouldn’t let him speak of the confession on that occasion, and we have a properly signed one that is better. Mr Sharpe will stay in the background, as he would wish.” Superintendent Maxley was quite right. Morrison Sharpe did not even attend the trial. Maxley and Matthews called on him the night it was all over, when the verdict had been given. They were in high glee, for some complimentary things had been said that quite wiped out the memory of earlier mistakes. Mr, Sharpe was sitting over a chess board, wrapped in the solution of a problem that taxed him more than usual. In the ordinary way he worked these out in his head and the* fact that he had been induced to set up the pieces showed that his ingenuity was being highly taxed. "Thought you’d like to know the, result," Maxley began. He was gestured into silence. For half an hour the trio sat in the darkening room. Then Mr Sharpe pushed the board aside and glanced up happily. “This,” he remarked, "is a wonderful occasion." "Indeed it is,” the superintendent I agreed. “Gardopoulos is awarded the I appropriate punishment' and Smith | gets an easy 18 months. There's still Huntley Young, but we haven't much against him beyond attempted suicide.” “I beg your pardon." said Mr Sharpe, coming down to earth. "The chess was more interesting. There’s a new problem setter who has beaten me twice in a fortnight." "You don’t often lose,” Matthews ob’served. "Rarely." Morrison Sharpe laughed happily. "It's the most refreshing thing imaginable to come off worst occasionally.” Maxley interrupted irritably. "We called to ask if you would accept a presentation watch from the Chief Constable,” he explained. “Whatever for?' "Why, your valued help in solving the bus murder mystery.” "Oh. that! I'd almost forgotten about it. Thanks for the compliment, but 1 already have a watch." "Really, sir. that ■ is somewhat ungracious." Mr Sharpe was immediately contrite. "I didn't mean to be rude." he apologised. "but rewards don't mean much to me. It is the puzzle that intrigues me. Thank you all the same. Tell Major Martinshawe 1 will call." “Good!” Maxley rubbed his hands together. "Hope to run across you some other time when there’s a case that appeals to you." he remarked. The little puzzle-master smiled. “Hardly likely." he told them. "But I understood you to say that you intended to set up as a sort of private detective?" 'Did 1? That was a long time ago. I've changed my mind again. These criminals are not. subtle enough. One has to indulge in too much guesswork. They don't work to any rules of logic. No. thank you. I find my other puzzles much more absorbing than police cases."

"Cor!” exclaimed Maxley. He allowed himself to be led to the door almost in a daze. Sergeant Matthews chuckled. “I took up cross-words myself, on your recommendation,” he said. "But I've decided to give them up." “Why?” asked Mr Sharpe innocently. “Because,” murmured the sergeant, "It either meant that or resigning from the Force. No man can serve two masters . . .” He was gone, leaving Mr Sharpe wondering what he meant. THE END. I ROMANTIC STORY WITH ENTRANCING PLOT. Recent deveopments in aeronautics and individual achievements in flying the Atlantic leave no doubt that the day of the regular service of Atlantic air liners is not far ahead. So the latest story of Mr Leslie Beresford, the well-known novelist, is not much in advance of its time. In “Man From the Ariport." the first instalment of which appears on Thursday in the “Wairarapa Times-Age," Mr Beresford visualises air liners plying between Great Britain and the American continent as a commonplace daily occurrence. At the 'opening of the story the airport is a centre of unrest. Pilots are complaining of undue severity, accusing the manager of being too autocratic in his methods. The real cause of the dispute is an invention perfected by John Peters, one of the pilots, in the proceeds of which Hughson. the manager, claims he should have a share. With this idea Mr Beresford begins his story. But the plot is not wholly concerned with living. The past joins the very modern present when the story turns towards an old ; marriage certificate, which would make Peters heir to a fortune then enjoyed by a very attractive, but very : determined young woman, who is, not minded to relinquish it. Readers of Mr Beresford’s former novels, and more who have enjoyed any of his live films, will appreciate what opportunities such a plot offers to Leslie Beresford's romantic genius.