by John Creasey
‘No,’ said Craigie, grimly. ‘It will have to have its dope, for the time being. Serle’s told us where the main farm is—it’s near Greylands. He’s told us how it’s distributed to the various branches of the party, and that it’s administered in food and drink and the weekly social gathering of each branch. We know, too, that in its mild form its effect is merely to produce that absorption and that willingness to believe everything its addicts are told. Eventually, of course, we’ll have to stop giving it. What will happen then, I don’t know. But we’ll have it examined, medically and scientifically. There’s an antidote to most drugs; we’ll find one for this.’
‘There’ll be hell to pay while we’re finding it,’ Miller cautioned.
‘Not the hell that there might have been,’ said Craigie.
He looked a little awkwardly at Wyett.
The Colonel knew why.
The craving for Tallin in its mild form would be bad enough. There would be outbreaks of trouble throughout the country unless a satisfactory antidote was found, very soon. But the craving for Tallin in its concentrated form was a thousand times worse. It produced—or lack of it did—that terrible agony of mind and body.
The Colonel would suffer it. Mick Randall and Irene would suffer. Ronald Knight, too, and a host of others.
‘This stuff helps,’ the Colonel offered, with a wry smile.
And it was that remark which paved the way to a complete triumph over the ravages of Tallin. An alcoholic byproduct was administered, and acted as an antidote. There were cases where it failed; and there were those who died from Tallin poisoning. But the Government, elected by Tallin victims, tackled the problem thoroughly. The Press was silenced on the many mysterious outbreaks of poisoning. No rumour escaped into the ears of the general public.
Gradually, Tallin was killed….
Gordon Craigie realised, perhaps more than anyone else, that Kenyon had played a part as important as the Colonel’s. It was Kenyon who had discovered the real portent of the cricket connection, Kenyon who had suggested that midnight raid on county cricketers, and Kenyon who had sent the party of agents to Greylands village. But for the arrival of the Arrans and their men on the morning of Kenyon’s ordeal, the small army of Arabs, brought over by Serle and working for the most part on the nearby Tallin farm, must have massacred Kenyon, the Colonel, Mary Randall, and the Rev. Denbigh Morse. Serle, although badly wounded, might have escaped; the spade work had been done; Serle could have taken Randall’s place.
Instead, Arnold Serle realised the inevitability of his punishment and, after his confession to Craigie, killed himself. He had used Craigie’s gun; Craigie had expected him to.
One after another, the tasks left behind after the death of Sir Michael Randall were completed. The various foreign and Colonial depots for the drug were traced and broken up. Those members of Serle’s Arabian gang who escaped the dreadful attack from the Arrans at Greylands were taken overseas, and watched very carefully.
And, to make Craigie’s task lighter, there was the fact that those victims of the drug in its concentrated form who had outlived Randall recovered from it. Mick was all right; he was as anxious as the others that Mary should know nothing of her father’s real nature. She never did. Irene Scanling recovered—and Mick’s only complaint of her, was that she did not believe in early marriages.
The Colonel was left with a liking for whisky that was quite abnormal and which was shared by the Rev. Denbigh Morse, much to that cleric’s wife’s disgust. Ronald Knight recovered.
There were other things.
The Persian Sales establishment—a business cover for Serle’s active helpers—had been cleaned up. In place of gunmen, Mick Randall ran it, in amicable partnership with Irene. One gentleman who was never convinced that he had had a fair deal was Mr. Gowsby-Loam, who disappeared from the political stage, a disillusioned man. Sir Martin Howe had been sent to the Berlin Embassy, and Sladen to America.
Of the Rensham connection, the real beginning of the affair so far as the Department was concerned, Craigie guessed a great deal, and his guesses were very near the truth.
Lord Hugo Rensham had discovered the real nature of Tallin, had threatened disclosure at a time when disclosure would have meant complete failure; so he had been murdered. Later on, when Craigie had begun to hear enough rumours to set someone to work on the matter, Dickie Roberts had learned too much and had been killed.
Just three months after the ordeal at Greylands, Jim Kenyon—convalescent from his injuries, huge and immaculate as ever and happy at the promise of full recovery in an England freed from the effects of Tallin—entered the Regent’s Park house of the Chesters and found Aubrey practising the wedding march.
Kenyon groaned.
‘One more note…’
‘Stop me and I’ll l-lose the r-ring,’ threatened Aubrey.
Laughing, Kenyon went on into the sunlit room that was Diane’s. Mary was there, a Mary still sad because of the death of her father, but convinced that he had died because of what he knew; which, in some ways, was the truth.
‘Well,’ said Kenyon.
‘Well,’ said Mary, and moved towards him.
And then, very deeply, cavernously almost, a voice sang out:
‘And when I die-ee, don’t bury me at awlll,
Just bury me bo-oones, in alcohawll!’
‘Strike me pink,’ drawled Kenyon, as Righteous Dane, pale-faced after three months in hospital but fully recovered, came from behind a curtain. ‘If I’d known you were there…’
‘What would you have done?’ demanded Righteous pugnaciously.
‘What will I do?’ corrected Kenyon, scowling.
From outside the door and the windows of that sunlit room, came a full-throated roar of greeting; thirty voices, among which could be heard those of the Arrans and Martin Best, Curtis, Davidson, Trale and Mick Randall, rising in discordant unity.
Kenyon laughed, a little shakily. And hugging Mary, invited his fellow conspirators in for a drink.
This edition published in 2015 by Ipso Books
Ipso Books is a division of Peters Fraser + Dunlop Ltd
Drury House, 34-43 Russell Street, London WC2B 5HA
Copyright © John Creasey, 1935, revised edition, 1967
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John Creasey
Master crime fiction writer John Creasey’s 562 titles have sold more than 80 million copies in over 25 languages. After enduring 743 rejection slips, the young Creasey’s career was kickstarted by winning a newspaper writing competition. He went on to collect multiple honours from The Mystery Writers of America including the Edgar Award for best novel in 1962 and the coveted title of Grand Master in 1969. Creasey’s prolific output included 11 different series including Roger West, the Toff, the Baron, Patrick Dawlish, Gideon, Dr Palfrey, and Department Z, published both under his own name and 10 other pseudonyms.
Creasey was born in Surrey in 1908 and, when not
travelling extensively, lived between Bournemouth and Salisbury for most of his life. He died in England in 1973.
ALSO IN THIS SERIES
The Death Miser
Redhead
First Came a Murder
Death Round the Corner
The Mark of the Crescent
Thunder in Europe
The Terror Trap
Carriers of Death
Days of Danger
Death Stands By
Menace!
Murder Must Wait
Panic!
Death by Night
The Island of Peril
Sabotage
Go Away Death
The Day of Disaster
Prepare for Action
No Darker Crime
Dark Peril
The Peril Ahead
The League of Dark Men
The Department of Death
The Enemy Within
Dead or Alive
A Kind of Prisoner
The Black Spiders
Contents
First Came A Murder
1 Tragedy at the Carilon Club
2 Hugh Devenish is Thoughtful
3 Department ‘Z’ at Whitehall
4 Sir Basil Riordan, Bart.
5 Devenish Gets a Shock
6 And Assumes a Responsibility
7 Marion Dare Makes an Admission
8 More Trouble with Marritabas
9 Devenish Makes Some Visits
10 Lord Aubrey Chester Disappears
11 The Hon. Marcus Gets Cross
12 Bleddon’s Bank
13 Hugh Devenish Gets a Message
14 Trouble at Wharncliff Hall
15 Whose Body Burned
16 Death of a Club Member
17 More Trouble at Wharncliff
18 Outrage at a Police Station
19 Marcus Riordon Gives Orders
20 Devenish Gets Going
21 Amazing Happening on Madame X
22 Gordon Craigie is Anxious
23 Hugh Devenish Hurries
24 Devenish Takes the Count
Death Round the Corner
PROLOGUE
I.SOME PEOPLE AND THEIR PLEASURES
II.TONY BERESFORD AND OTHERS
III.DEATH PASSES BY
IV.HELP FROM THE UNHOLY TWINS
V.THE STRANGE ILLNESS OF BOB LAVERING
VI.OF AN ADVENTURE IN PARIS
VII.AND A MURDER IN PARIS
VIII.THE MYSTERIOUS MR. WILLIAMS
IX.VALERIE LESTER SPRINGS A SURPRISE
X.A SURPRISE AND A SHOCK
XI.VALERIE LESTER PAYS A VISIT
XII.NOSEY DEAN—DECEASED
XIII.MR. JOSIAH LONG EXPLAINS
XIV.NEWS FROM PARIS
XV.NO NEWS FROM CRAIGIE
XVI.VALERIE LESTER AND A MAJOR
XVII.THE MAN WHO SHOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD
XVIII.THE REMARKABLE STORY OF BOB LAVERING
XIX.MR. LEOPOLD GORMAN IS WORRIED
XX.ANOTHER GATHERING OF FRIENDS
XXI.DEATH AT THE BUNGALOW
XXII.ALL ROADS LEAD TO KENT
XXIII.ATTACK AND COUNTER-ATTACK
XXIV.OF A RUSE WHICH SUCCEEDED
XXV.OF A CONVERSATION AND A PLACARD
The Mark of the Crescent
1The Man Who Did Not Speak
2Mary Randall Asks a Question
3A Message From a Dark Gentleman
4Kenyon Springs a Surprise
5Arnold Serle Hits Back
6Trouble for the Twins
7Kenyon Sees The Mark
8Death by Violence
9Kenyon Annoys a Policeman
10The Mark Again
11Nightmare
12Politicians—and a Road Chase
13A Meeting and a Murder
14Craigie Receives Instructions
15Arnold Serle Again
16Treachery—and a Stag Party
17The Girl Who Screamed
18Gun-fire at Godalming
19Kenyon Makes a Decision
20Colonel Wyett Pulls a Gun
21Mary Randall Feels Despair
22Kenyon Is Wanted
23And Plays a Losing Hand
24Kenyon Meets His Man
25Of Things Which Happened
