“STRATOSPHERE EXPRESS”

Wairarapa Times-Age, 1 April 1940, Page 10

“STRATOSPHERE EXPRESS”

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

BY

ALROY WEST.

(Author of “Messengers of Death,” etc.)

CHAPTER XIV. Continued. “Got to talk this over,” he said abruptly. “I hate talk, but there aie times when there has to be some. We’re up against it. Obviously Lovac knows about the secret works. That means they're secret no longer. Ive Manelli to get all the information he can about what happened to Macready. Purceloy,” he gave a grimace of distaste “is dealing with the investigation at the Essex Street factory. That leaves us free to deal with the constuction of the stratoplane and the safeguarding of the works. I take it, Larkin, that you have most of the parts ready, and that it is only a matter of assembling them?” “Except that there may be some modifications.” “Naturally. You, Mackley, are prepared to receive the necessary instruction from Larkin, and to actually pilot the plane when we take off?” “I am, sir.” “Don’t ‘sir’ me. I’m Bessiter. Bessiter to you all.” “Very good.” “Storm!” “Yes?” “I want you to go and get hold of Rush. I want to talk to him. There’s nothing going to happen to him —so you needn't start worrying, girl.” This was to Manda. “I’ll go,” said Storm. “Take the car. I don’t want you to run risks. Remember that?” “Yes.” Storm hurried from the house and was soon speeding towards the town. Arriving at the mean quarters where Rush had a room, he jammed on the brakes and raced up the stairs. There was no answer to his knock. Impatiently, he tried the handle and found that the door was not locked. Striking a match he lit the feeble gas jet and looked about him. The tiny bed was made and the evening paper had been neatly folded. There was a note lying beside it. Storm reached for’ it and then stepped nearer to the light. It bore his initials on the top. “To J. 5.,” it read. “I have gone along to a small cafe just down the road. It is an underground one called the Leather Bottle. In case you should need me you can find me there. I felt nervous of being alone.” It was not signed. Storm glanced at his watch. It was very late. He wondered whether to go to the cafe or to wait. After all, Rush should not be away very long. He extinguished the light and walked slowly down the stairs. He crossed to the car and got inside it. “Perhaps I’d better go along to the wretched place!” he exclaimed. It was easy to find and he hurried down the rickety stairs. The small room was clouded with tobacco smoke. There were very few people there. One woman, exceedingly buxom, was leaning across a table talking to another, who was as thin as a rake. “Gawd! You should ’ave seen ’is face!” the buxom one declared. “You’re not Bill’s wife, are you?” he says. “Of course I’ m’is wife, you . . .’ ” It finished in a flow of obscenity. A slip of a girl, dressed showily, pretty in a cheap way, slowly closed one eye at him. But Storm only smiled at her. He looked eagerly about the place, but there was no sign of Rush. “Lookin’ for somebody?”

A broad-shouldered man with a yellowish face and a nose which had at some time been broken, glared down at Storm. “Yes. Fellow named Rush. Do you know him? He was supposed to be here tonight. Left a note for me to follow him. He’s white haired.” The man stared suspiciously and then shook his head slowly. “I haven’t seem ’im,” he declared. “But we don’t see anybody in this place. See?” Storm grinned at him and passed over half a crown. “Does that help your sight?” he asked. The man gave an ugly grimace, probably intended to be a smile. “He hasn’t been here,” he said. “Thanks.” Storm hurried away, and drove back to where Rush lived. He thought that Rush had changed his mind and gone for a short walk. He entered the man’s room, lit the gas jet once more and also lit a cigarette. “I don’t suppose I shall have to wait long,” he thought. But the minutes passed by in relentless fashion. Half-an-hour went by and there was still no sign of Rush. Storm began to get uneasy. He searched about the room in the hope (or fear) of discovering some solution to the man's disappearance. But there were no clues. “Maybe I’m a dud detective," he said, once more perching himself on the table. It was not comfortable, but it was a shade better than the rickety chair. At last he decided to wait ten more minutes and then rush back to Bessiter’s place. The disappearance of Rush was becoming sinister. Then he heard steps on the stairs, slow steps. “Here he comes.” Storm thought, slipping from the table. The knob of The door was turned and the door slowly opened. ‘T’ve been waiting for you," Storm annuounced. But it wasn't Rush. The door opened wider and a man stepped into the room. Most decidedly not Rush —but somebody quite well known to Storm. The man standing in the doorway smiling at him was Lovac! CHAPTER XV. “You saw my note?” asked Lovac , gently. He smiled again. "I'm so glad.”

“I don’t understand you! I haven't had a note from you!” Lovac’s thin, dark eyebrows moved slightly. “No?” he asked softly. "J think you are mistaken. Of course, you may have assumed that the note was written by Rush." Storm clenched his fists. “All right. You win. Now what?” Lovac shrugged his shoulders. “We won’t have anything very dramatic,” Lovac purred. “I dislike it. You will readily understand that Rush is in my care —at the moment.” “What have you done to him?” Storm took a step forward. Lovac smiled once more, but his eyes were devoid of any expression. “What a primitive imagination!” the man murmured. “I can assure you that the wretched Rush will not be harmed. He isn’t important, you know.” “Glad to hear it.” “Ohl I agree that he is tactless. He must have spoken rather freely to you early this evening, for example.” “I see,” said Storm. “And so now you want to capture me?” Lovac shook his head. “Sorry. But you don’t interest me sufficiently. I do want you to do one thing.” “What’s that?” “Take me to see Bessiter.” “You know where he lives.” “Of course I do. But there might be difficulties. Bessiter does things in a rather unorthodox manner, and it is most important that I should be able to leave his house promptly. Storm frowned. “I don’t see how I can help you.” “Really? You will be a hostage. I shall take you to a telephone and you will fix up for Bessiter to see me. We will drive to the house and you will remain outside—with one of my friends.”

“There only seems to be your word for that,” Storm pointed out. “You don’t consider it good security?” The question was accompanied by a smile. “Frankly, I don’t.” “I’m so sorry. But come along, all the same.” Storm hesitated. It might be possible for him to fight his way out. It doubtful whether Lovac would have more than two men with him. But there was Rush to be considered. “Young men are frequently very foolish,” asid Lovac. “Suppose I stand aside for a moment?” He moved over, and Storm was able to see the man who was waiting at the top of the stairs. He caught the gleam of a revolver. “I’ll come,” said Storm. “I'm so glad,” was the gentle comment. They went down the narrow stairs, and at last reached the street. There were two cars there. One belonged to Bessiter —it was the one Storm had been using, but there were now three men sitting in it. A powerful, grey limousine was just behind it. A uniformed chauffeur was at the wheel. “We take the second car,” Lovac said softly. Both cars moved away, drawing up the nearest call box. “I’ll come with you,” Lovac said with a smile. “Just to make sure that you fix things up exactly as I require.” It didn't take long to get through. Andrews answered the phone, and then fetched Bessiter. “This is Storm speaking.” “Yes. What do you want? Haven’t you found Rush? The powerful voice seemed to reverberate over the lines. “No. I'm with Mr Lovac at the moment.” “The devil you are!” “He is driving over to see you. I understand that I wait outside as a hostage. If anything happens to Mr Lovac —well, I get it in the neck.” “I understand. Tell him I'm sorry he’s losing his nerve. I’ll be waiting.” Lovac took the instrument from Storm. “You will be very cautious, naturally? I am being very careful.” Storm couldn’t catch the reply, but Lovac’s smile as he replaced the instrument was of a very artificial nature. “Back to the car now," Lovac directed. “I feel honoured at having so large an escort," Storm said brightly. "You have quite a substantial bodyguard. 1 can't compare it with that of my employer, because I haven't seen his—yet.” Lovac showed his teeth in another smile. “My dear young friend,” he said, slowly. “There are times when caution is a very admirable thing. You'll find that Bessiter will be quite prepared to adopt similar measures—when they become necessary. I'm rather sorry that you work for him." “Trying to buy me out?" Storm snapped. Lovac, still, smiling, shook his head. “I don’t think I should have much use for you —and, apart from that, 1 imagine that you are a foolishly stubborn young man." “Thanks. By the way, what happens to Rush?" Lovac shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think the question important.” “There is one think I should like to know.” "What is that?” “Who told you that I was in Rush's rooms?" Lovac seemed amused. (To be Continued.)