“ANNOUNCER’S HOLIDAY”

Wairarapa Times-Age, 18 January 1941, Page 10

“ANNOUNCER’S HOLIDAY”

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. COPYRIGHT.

By

VAL GIELGUD.

(Author of “Africa Flight." “Outpost in China,” etc.)

CHAPTER XXV. < Continued.. “You know?" ,“I said so. 1 must write one word for Greta. Grab two of those heavy coats and caps you'll find in the hall, and wait for me. We’ve got to be down at the boat first!"

“Beat?" repeated Geoffrey stupidly. •'What on earth do you mean—Boat?" Lucia grasped the lapels of his coat end shook him urgently. “I know you’ve been about one tenth passed." she said deliberately, “but ' you’ve got to pull yourself together. I because we’ve got to work fast. Casi--1 mir Konski is going down river tonight ; to meet the men you and the British ! Government are after!" “And how.” demanded Geoffrey, ! Allardyce, "do you know?" “Because I was supposed to be going! ; with him.” i "I see. And why aren’t you?" The girl's lips quivered. “Because I'm a fool I suppose—or I . perhaps because I'm a woman, which is ! i much the same thing in the end! Be- I ! sides I ani going with him."

] “Lucia—l don't understand." said Geoffrey. "Oh. stop wasting time!" cried Lucia and stamjx-d her foot. “They won't ' keep the boat waiting for us. you l snow." 1 “Are you sure. Lucia?" Lucia laughed shrilly. "I see. You think I'm leading you : he a lamb to the slaughter, poor boy! You think I'm the fictional vamp be- ;< ved of the novelists. Oh how I wish I was. Listen, you young fool, the boat carries a crew of three. Two of them won’t be there. I managed that. You ;nd I are going to be the two. All we t ave to do is to muffle ourselves well up and keep our mouths shut! Luke Fames will look after the navigation.” "1 see." said Geoffrey; but his eyes ‘till strayed back to where Charles Bland stood rather shakily beside Greta Mahler, the bottle of smellingsalts in his hand. “Then for heaven's sake come along!" persisted Lucia. “Casimir has to negot:ate the secret passage down to the | river. It’s poor going, and not in a I straight line. We should just do it!’’ And that was hew Lucia and Geoffrey i Allardyce happened to be aboard Casimir’s launch when he and the four members of the Organisation returned m due course from the marshy foreshore of the Kentish coast to begin those preparations- which should make the openin gof the New Peace Conference memorable among famous dales in the History of the World. CHAPTER XXVI. It was almost exactly three o’clock in the morning when Casimir landed the last <>f his passengers. That last was Adolf —the German with the Nazi scatburned into one of his cheeks. It was. therefore, almost exactly forty-eight hours before the procession, which was to include the two famous European dictators, would pass Temple Bar on its! way to the service in St. Paul's Cath- | edral.

Now forty-eight hours make up two cays and two nights. And though that 1 eriod can seem short enough—as fur instance when you are rehearsing a ; lay, or preparing a programme for uroadcasting—it is a sufficiently long

lime in other circumstances. Adolf’s circumstances were these: he dared not go to any hotel or lodging-house, for he bad no luggage, and there was always the possibility that his somewhat strikng description might have been circulated by Scotland Yard. He must not attract attention in any way whatsoever. lest he might be questioned, or -al worst —arrested on suspicion. He was alone. For all the four had separated on elementary grounds of precaution, and to avoid the possibility of all of them being caught at a single swoop. And he must not talk to strangt rs. if hr could help it. in ruse his comparatively indifferent command of the English language hould give him away. In circumstances like those, f.,r»v- < ight hours can seem an eternity: an infinity of weariness, of solitude, of nervous strain. And if they seemed ’o Adolf, who at least was a hardened conspirator and assassin, with those crim twins Death an 1 Glory awaiting him al the eml of those miles and miles f pavements, they must have seemed the same, if not more so, to Geoffrey Allardyce. He had bcm unable to make any brier plan than to decide to follow whichever of the gang was landed lust As a hypothetical member of the crew he ciuld nut leave the boat earlier. Ami though he loathed leaving Lucia only less than he had lulled . bandoning Greta, and though every 1 erve >n his body cried .at that he should return to the house in Limen.aise ami find out what had befallen Lie girl he loved, there v. a-. no riltermiLVe Id lllfi le.mi.; cli -.s: IraiilHt' Of !he mun called Adolf He cursed the caun had prevented him front making an attempt to eavesdrop the meeting ns the di-.ii i j arms factory. when h." might have learned the essential ■ 'e’.ad- f the ph.? Hut Lucia had been -igai.n it and eawsdn pping .- sel- ' <.::i ;r; ea-y ns the stage and the films retrod Jk- had Imped for -mine luck n that directum i n '.he homeward voyage But corivei.ration im ; i, ; ,. j-.urnet had been Ci-nspietmu.-; |,v it ab. .-me Arid so i, u > <j tl . ~, j.,p,.. • I.JO pl--se-ice of she f. ,i[- fore;;-;;,.;-’ me river adventure had ri-’iii'.r .1 m nothing worth having the shape of c< ncreie n -ui: if < tily i’. had be. n ; ibl<- ' make (■• .mart with M-ow-bs * That : . ■ ream see :■ he,-man Y- : Y ■a ■<-i:d<-rfu||;, c< m>- rm-g rehabs- ' ' tremity when you couldn’t get Id < ' him: Am. way thi re it - Adolf waHu g • v. a<-r • •■ ! ‘ h<■ :• ■ ;11 • ; E.v ‘ rm ! > ‘ i. -m had

|an Embankment sent under a couple jof newspapers . . . or get firmly I anchored to some coffee-stall, so that ) cue could get a chance to use a tele- ! phone box . . . what could Casimir j and Lucia be doing? . . . or Charles j and Greta . . . or the three other i gangsters, who had been turned loose : till their time should come? . . And j then his exasperation with Adolf, and j his anxiety for Greta would disappear j behind the hideous recollection of the mad Prince Xavier, his face distorted with fear and savagery and the thin blade of his on sword-stick protruding from his back . . . Geoffrey’sthoughts, questions, and imagination rode him like mediaeval devils, and — not for the first time in the course of I his adventure —he wondered whether he had been a staid employee of a Chartered Corporation, with, a desk, a cushioned chair, and a probable pension on which to end his days. The faces of his admirable, if somewhat commonplace, colleagues were curiously less credible somehow, than the i devil’s face of Xavier, the cultivated mask which overlaid Casimir Konski’s sophisticated brain, and Lucia’s dark beauty . .

I Suddenly it was morning. Behind .them as they walked—and it must be i remembered that while Adolf could i choose his own way and pace. Geoffrey ; Allardyce must loiter and then run: I cut corners, or fall far behind, so that i the pursued should not suspect the - pursuer, the sun rose over the city. ! gilding however momentarily that wilI derness of roofs with a strange beauty. J And difficult though following Ln tile ! dark had been, it became infinitely I harder with the arrival of daylight. For the population of East London has no love for a "nark ” and would have been swift enough to denounce Geoffrey in that cap’icity at the tops of their voices had they spotted his pursuit for what indeed it was.

Adolf must have been in magnificent condition, for it was no: until mid-day that he chose to risk a visit to a publichouse. Geoffrey followed him. glad enough of the opportunity to achieve a [ sandwich and a drink, but sufficiently uneasy to find the two of them alone together at the bar. That sort of tete-a-tete was not at all his taste. It would give Adolf far too good a chance to become familiar with his shadow. At the same time to bolt out at once would be suspicious to a degree, and as the pub had two doors leading out of the bar it would be taking an unreasonable risk to wail for Adolf in the street. . And then Adolf put his half pint of bitter down on the bar counter and spoke to him. "You will excuse me?” he said courteously. "I am a foreigner—a stranger here." ’Yes?" murmured Geoffrey, feeling his way. "I have come here to see the opening of the Peace Conference." Adolf continued. "I have a seat to view the procession." Geoffrey could feel a pulse beating discomforUibly in his throat. Then he .choked and spluttered over an extra large mouthful of sandwich, which was about as dusty in consistency as most pub sandwiches, for Adolf after groping in his pocket was holding out tor his inspection a large orange ticket On it was stamped in heavy black block letters: "Stand Q, No. 137. Right. Temple Bar (north side). Enter from Carey Street.” "I do not know London." Adolf went on. "Would you tell me where exactly is this Carey Street?"

Geoffrey repressed a violent temptation to reply that that motorist spendthrift. Charles Bland, was more likely to know about Carey Street than that harmless radio bureaucrat Geoffrey Allardyce. "I thin.K I’d suggest the Underground - there must be a station not far from here—tn The Monument. I’ll ask the barman.” A queer expression, which sifcmed to Geoffrey to mean sudden suspicion, flashed into Adolf’s eyes. "You do not know this part' of the city either then'.’” he asked. ' Not well.” ’ 1 see I am sorry to b.ave troubled you." 'But <:t course I'll lind out for you. Gco i I rey pers is t ed. Tims wi iild give him the chance he needed; the chance to get to a telephone. And the barman was providentially still out of sight. He asked Adolf to wail for his return, and pushed open the swing door dividing private from stilmui. A vague musical background disagreeably familiar to his inner consciousness. swelled up as he wen' thri-ugh: the theatre organ l?r> ;i ica.~: ing from St. George's Hall . . . Then h<- stopped dead. For inc crf.iijist had br--ia-n •■*’. nsos". uhtypically in the middle a bar <>{ "In a Monastery Garden" .A vim-e mb-mt-.it-id. vi.mmg from die h ;ii - -ija-agcr m th* far corner above the bar: the voice that Geoffrey .Allardyce know almuM belter than am. vsuci'- n; the v.' >rld. \V< ar<- mi'-iTuplUig cur n. m-mi; i !'j;a;i rm i’al fr tn S’ <«< •>ire ■ Hall *a:d 'he Chief .Xnimuiii’cr m<“.ff.ly ' m bi• adeu■ t a pi:hie me -.t:v al tile rmm• c ; de < f the A . (k cm er : f P -In-,. *,*,’<• d.) this trie m-i i <.ur i.'olleaj'.uc: Will Mr. <«c'><ir>-;. Allardyce pi maml v. her< .il> sii" m;-ki.m-m <. .mtmii.’cate a 1 nuickiy a' I - ■ oil S. Yard. . < Ge rgi-’s Hall until : d< ■ > Ami m'g.ifi niebciu”. broke L-rlh : li-lcW 11: . Im;.’ 1 isi'-mc liimillU ' . ' ■ ‘ . m ■ ..... •<i :. *h«" A’ kUm < f iU u, ’?/!;•■ 3 ‘Tif