Biggles and the Dark Intruder

by W E Johns

  ‘I’m inclined to agree with you,’ conceded Biggles. ‘All right. Let’s assume he’s in the house, presumably a prisoner. What do you suggest we do about it?’

  ‘Go there and get him out.’

  ‘Are you proposing that we break in?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘For the very good reason that we’ve no right to do anything of the sort. If it turned out that Bertie wasn’t there, and Sir Humphrey made a complaint, as he probably would, there’d be one hell of a row about it and the Press would shoot us down in flames.’

  ‘To the devil with what we have a right to do! That’s no argument.’

  Biggles shook his head. ‘I doubt if it would work. Hallstone Towers is a big place. It would need a lot of men to search it properly. We don’t know how many people there are inside; Lewis for one; there may be others like him. You can bet they wouldn’t take kindly to us going through the place without a warrant.’

  ‘Very well. Then let’s call in the local police. Tell them we have reason to believe that the escaped prisoner they’re looking for is inside. That should be sufficient reason for them to get a search warrant.’

  ‘Even if they agreed that would take time. It’ll soon be dark. By the time the police got to the Towers Lewis could be on his way out of the country. We should still be able to prevent that if his departure is timed for tonight.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘By going to the moor and taking up positions near the airstrip. If that plane lands I’ll take damn good care it doesn’t get off again.’

  ‘We’ve no reason to suppose tonight is the night,’ argued Algy. ‘There’s been no signal from radar, or the Air Commodore would have been on the phone.’

  ‘It’s early yet. There’s plenty of time for the plane to slip in between now and five o’clock tomorrow morning. Our job is to see it doesn’t get away with it tonight. That’s why we’re here. If it doesn’t come tonight we shall have all day tomorrow to think about it. I’ll ring the Air Commodore first thing in the morning and ask for instructions. Let him take the responsibility. Meanwhile let’s get to the moor. We’re not likely to do any good sitting here.’

  ‘You could run me out to the Towers and drop me off there to see if anything’s going on,’ suggested Algy. ‘No one there knows me.’

  ‘All right, if that’s how you feel.’

  ‘And you could put me off at the moor on the way,’ offered Ginger. ‘I could go across and see if anything is happening at the old mine. We haven’t said anything about that.’

  ‘What about the dog?’

  ‘What about it? If he comes for me now I have something in my pocket that’ll stop its yapping.’

  ‘I’m all against shooting a dog for doing what it’s been trained to do.’

  ‘If it’s been trained to bite people, that’s its bad luck. I’m not standing for being savaged by any brute, no matter what it’s been trained to do. It may not see me. You can put me off at the far end of the moor so that I can work up to the mine from behind.’

  ‘Okay, if that’s how you want it. But be careful what you get up to. I’ve one man missing already; I don’t want another. Now let’s get on with it. After dropping Algy at the Towers I shall dash back here to see if there’s a message from Headquarters. If there’s nothing I’ll return to the moor and park in the usual place. That’s where you’ll find me, Ginger, when you get tired of sneaking about in the heather.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  In a few minutes they were on their way. It was still not quite dark, but twilight had taken possession of the scene by the time they reached the moor. The car was stopped at the far end to enable Ginger to get out and approach his objective from a new angle.

  ‘You know the scheme,’ Biggles told him. ‘I’m taking Algy on to the Towers. That means I shall have to fetch him later, but I don’t know exactly when that will be. Come to the road when you’ve had enough of the moor. You know where I’ll be. I’m sorry to split up the party like this but I don’t see what else we can do. Be careful.’

  Ginger raised a hand. ‘Okay.’

  Biggles drove on, slowly, still with one eye on the moor, so to speak, and had not gone far when a car, actually a light van, coming towards him pulled up level with a squeal of brakes. He felt for his gun, thinking this was an attack; but he left it in his pocket when he saw the car was not the Bentley. He was not a little surprised when he observed that it appeared to be filled with policemen. An inspector got out and came to the window Biggles had opened. ‘I thought I recognized your car,’ he said in a voice that did not sound very friendly.

  ‘Did you want to see me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Plenty.’

  Biggles got out of the car. ‘What’s the trouble?’ he asked, puzzled by the Inspector’s brusque manner.

  ‘You sent us out on a wild-goose chase.’

  ‘I sent you out? What are you talking about?’

  ‘Where are you off to now?’

  ‘Matter of fact we’re on our way to Hallstone Towers.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Oh, just to have a look at it.’

  ‘Hoping to find Lewis?’

  ‘Partly.’

  ‘Well, I can save you the trouble,’ was the curt rejoinder.

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘There’s nobody there except a bad-tempered old bitch of a woman.’

  Biggles blinked. ‘How do you know?’ Such was his surprise he had to grope for the words.

  ‘We’ve been there.’

  ‘You’ve — been — there!’

  ‘Yes. We’ve searched the place from top to bottom. It was a waste of time.’

  ‘Who were you looking for?’

  ‘Cracker Lewis, of course.’

  ‘What gave you the idea he was there?’ inquired Biggles, trying to keep pace with the situation.

  ‘You said he was there.’

  ‘Me! I never told you anything of the sort.’

  ‘You told your chief in London, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes — but...’ Biggles began to see daylight. ‘I think you’d better tell me how this came about.’

  ‘You made a report to your chief at the Yard.’

  ‘What of it?’

  ‘He was given to understand you’d seen Lewis at Hallstone.’

  ‘That’s right. One of my assistants went in person to explain what was going on here and ask for instructions. He brought Sergeant Lacey, here beside me, back with him.’

  ‘Well, I had a phone call from Assistant Commissioner Raymond, who I understand is your boss, to ask me to give you all the help I could if you asked for it. He said he thought you might be taking on more than you could cope with.’

  Now Biggles understood. ‘And Air Commodore Raymond told you Lewis had been seen at Hallstone.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So you decided to grab him.’

  ‘Naturally.’

  ‘Did Raymond ask you to do that?’

  ‘No. Er, not exactly.’

  Biggles shook his head sadly. ‘I’m afraid you’ve jumped the gun, Inspector. Lewis is only a small fish in this swim. Did Raymond tell you what we were really doing here?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then I’d better tell you in the hope of getting this mess straightened out. We’ve reason to think Bodmin Moor is being used as a landing ground for an aircraft coming in to fly criminals and their swag out of the country. Lewis is one of them. The man behind the organization, at this end, anyway, appears to be Sir Humphrey Trethallan. It may have been one of this gang who shot your Constable Harley.’

  The Inspector looked incredulous. ‘Good God!’

  ‘We were holding our hand hoping to grab the lot, including the plane and its pilot, in one cast of the net. If Trethallan learns that his house has been raided by the police — well, it won’t have improved our chances of doing that.’

  ‘No. I see that. I’m sorry, but I
acted for the best.’

  ‘I’m sure you did. Forget it. Let’s deal with things as they stand. You say Trethallan and Lewis weren’t in the house.’

  ‘If they were we couldn’t find ‘em.’

  ‘They were there. I saw them. They went off together in a car. I had a notion it was to fetch the money Lewis had hidden away. It has never been found. I posted a man to check if they came back. Incidentally, he’s disappeared, and I haven’t a clue as to what has happened to him. One of my lads is on the moor now, looking for him, but I wouldn’t give much for his chances.’

  ‘When you talk of Trethallan going off in his car do you mean that old Bentley?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, they must have come back because it’s there now, or it was when we left, standing at the front door.’

  ‘The devil it is!’

  ‘It was there when we arrived.’

  ‘I wish you’d told me you were going there.’

  ‘I would have done had I been able to find you. I went to your hotel but you were out. Thinking we had no time to lose we pushed on to the Towers. What would you like me to do now?’

  ‘Give me a minute to think. What I can’t understand is, if the Bentley is at the Towers where the devil have Trethallan and Lewis gone? I had assumed that when the time was ripe for Lewis to be flown out Trethallan would bring him round here in the car and drop him off at the nearest place to the landing strip, which is an area of burnt heather near an old mine. It seems I may have been wrong.’

  ‘Had you any reason to think the plane would be coming tonight?’

  ‘No. But I imagined Trethallan wouldn’t want to keep that crook in his house longer than was absolutely necessary. The plane may come tonight; it may not. As a pilot myself I can say that weather conditions for a night landing are okay. I’ve got to catch that plane on the job. We know it has been coming over regularly. It’s giving the Government sleepless nights, thinking the motive might be espionage. If we can nobble that plane it will tell us the answer, and keep Lewis in the country.’

  ‘Can I do anything about it? What are you going to do?’

  ‘Well, after what’s happened there’s no point in our going to the Towers, so I shall stay handy until my assistant on the moor comes back. He may be able to tell us something. If you’re not too busy you might stand by to give us a hand should the plane come tonight. If it does it will be before daybreak. We may need help. There are several in the gang here, not counting Lewis and the pilot. Crooks like Lewis won’t be likely to pack up without a fight; we can be sure of that.’

  ‘All right. I’ll do that,’ agreed the Inspector. ‘I’d give anything to get my hands on the rat who murdered poor Harley. Where would you like us to wait?’

  ‘Follow me. I’ll take you to the place where my assistant is to meet me when he’s finished on the moor. We made arrangements for that.’

  ‘Right. Lead the way.’

  Biggles got back in his car and in a few minutes was the usual parking place.

  The Inspector pulled in behind him.

  Biggles got out and walked to his open window. ‘Coming along I was thinking,’ he said. ‘Did you mean it when you said you’d do anything you could to help?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then here’s a little job you might do for me. Ask your driver to run into Bodmin and ask at my hotel if there’s a message for me. Only one man need go. The rest can stay here.’

  ‘Are you expecting a message?’

  ‘No. But there might be one. My chief is in touch with the radar stations, and if they pick up this unidentified plane they’ll let him know. He’d pass the message on to me. If such a message came through we should have an early warning of what was likely to happen.’

  ‘I get it. I’ll do that.’

  The Inspector gave the necessary order and the went on its way, leaving the Inspector and two constables with Biggles, who said: ‘While we’re waiting we might as well sit down.’ They found seats in the heather beside the road.

  Nothing happened during the half-hour the car was away. When it returned it pulled up with a dry skid and the constable driver jumped out, holding a slip of paper. ‘Here you are, sir,’ he said. ‘Priority signal from Scotland Yard to Inspector Bigglesworth.’

  ‘That’s me.’

  ‘The hall porter was taking the message down when I got there.’

  Biggles read it aloud for the benefit of the others who were watching. ‘Intruder sighted twenty miles southwest Falmouth on course north-east. Altitude approx. ten thousand. Losing height.’ Biggles looked up. ‘Good,’ he said tersely. ‘Now we know where we are. We shouldn’t have long to wait. Our best plan, I think, would be to move nearer to what I take to be the landing ground and lie down in the heather. Then, when I give the signal, we’ll all rush it together. I expect Trethallan will be along any minute now with Lewis. I’m a bit surprised he isn’t here already. He’s cutting it fine.’ He got up and looked across the moor. ‘Hello, what the devil’s that?’ he exclaimed, pointing to a spark of light that had suddenly appeared.

  The Inspector’s eyes followed the pointing finger. ‘Could it be a landing light?’

  ‘No. It’s nowhere near the landing strip.’

  ‘Then it looks as if some damn fool has set the heather on fire,’ growled the Inspector. ‘Does that lad you’ve got on the moor smoke?’

  ‘Not often. He wouldn’t be likely to smoke on the moor, anyway. He should be back by now. We’d better give him a minute or two or he won’t know where to look for me. If he isn’t soon here, Algy, you’ll have to wait for him. There’s no great hurry. On a still night like this we should hear the plane some time before it gets here.’

  A couple of minutes passed. ‘What can Ginger be doing?’ muttered Algy irritably. ‘He said he wouldn’t be long.’

  Biggles shook his head. ‘I can’t imagine.’

  ‘That fire’s spreading,’ observed the Inspector. ‘If it comes this way we shan’t be able to see anything for smoke.’

  CHAPTER 12

  WHAT HAPPENED TO BERTIE

  ALGY was right when he said that only trouble in a big way would have prevented Bertie from keeping his appointment with Biggles. That he brought it on himself is not to be disputed, but faced suddenly with an unexpected situation he acted for the best; as Biggles, he was sure, would have approved. The task he had been set seemed simple enough, and so it would have been had things worked out as Biggles had anticipated. He had assumed, if he hadn’t actually taken it for granted, that when Lewis was taken to the landing ground to be flown abroad, Trethallan would bring him in the Bentley to the nearest point on the road. This was a natural supposition, because from the moor to the Towers by road was a distance of some miles; with transport available there was no reason why they should walk, particularly as, after Lewis had been seen off, Trethallan would be anxious to get back to the Towers as quickly as possible. In the event, things did not work out like this. Far from it. What did actually happen, starting at the beginning, was this.

  After Biggles had left him Bertie walked down the lane to the drive that led to the Towers. There he paused to look around and listen. All was quiet; dead quiet. Not a sound. So he continued on up the drive looking for a good place in which to conceal himself and observe the Bentley when it returned. That is, if it returned. There had been nothing to indicate that it would, but it was a reasonable supposition if Biggles had been right in thinking that the car had gone off to collect the money Lewis had hidden. Obviously, how long the Bentley would be away would depend on how far it had to go.

  Bertie, sure that he had plenty of time — as in fact it turned out — walked on until he could see the black bulk of the mansion looming against the sky. Not a light showed anywhere, which made him wonder how Sir Humphrey managed for servants. Were there any? Was the house empty? The fact that no lights were showing proved nothing, he told himself. The staff quarters, if Sir Humphrey did not live in the house alone, which se
emed most improbable, might be round at the back. Anyway, it wasn’t worth going to any trouble to find out. That wasn’t his business.

  Going back a little way down the drive he settled on a place from where he would be able to see the front of the house, and as far down the drive as was possible in the dark. It was a moonless night, and the light of the few stars that were showing did not penetrate the leaf-laden branches of the overhanging trees on either side.

  Tall bracken flourished on the banks. This offered perfect cover, so taking care not to disturb it more than was unavoidable, he made his way into it for a few yards and settled down to wait.

  Taking out his penknife he trimmed the bracken that impeded his view. This he did more for something to do than for any practical purpose. For the same reason, finding himself sitting on something hard he investigated and found it to be a fallen branch. The thought struck him that a stout stick would be useful should an unfriendly dog come along, so he occupied himself for some time by cutting a straight length out of the branch that would serve as a weapon in an emergency. He had no other.

  He was prepared for a long wait, which was just as well, for so it transpired.

  It was after three o’clock in the morning when he heard a car change gear in the lane; coming up the hill. This brought him to the alert. Following the sound with his ears he heard the car slow down as it turned into the drive. A moment later he saw the reflection of the headlights in the trees. It came on. He crouched, peering through the fringe of bracken. It went past quickly in a blaze of light, dazzling after the darkness. He could not see who was in it.

  This introduced a factor on which he had not reckoned, although perhaps he should have done. He was able to recognize the Bentley by the shape of its body; but nothing more. This was not enough. What Biggles would want to know was, who was in it? Had Trethallan returned alone or had he brought Lewis back with him? That was the fundamental purpose of the exercise; of his being there.

  Blaming himself for his stupidity in not making allowances for this, although in fact it was hard to see what more he could have done without risking discovery, he listened. He heard the car stop. The doors slam. Then the front door opened and closed. After that, silence. For a minute or two he sat still, thinking the matter over, reluctant to leave his job half done. He knew the Bentley had returned. That was something. But it was not enough.