Boy's Cinema (1930-31)

tvery Tuesday BOY'S CINEMA A young English detective swears to get a murderer within a week and a battle of wits follow^s with a desperate gang of crooks. A mysterious and beautiful young girl becomes involved in this grim story of crime. Starring Henry Kendall and Benita Hume. The Challenge. MORNINC;, Jamo:<. A pint cf your best and brightest Burton, and step on it as I've a thirst I wouldn't sell for tlioubunds!" The speaker was a lanky, sprawling young follow in check plus-fours. Strong clean-shaven features, a that^'h of thick brown hair, powerful shoulders. a fine physique, and yet he lookod only half-awake. Vincent Floyd was sometliing of an enigma to those who thought they knew him. His age was twenty-eight, lie had plenty of money, was very fond of sport, always seemed to enjoy life, and he did everything in a hurry. He woidd tear down to VValton for a game of golf in his sports racing oar, then would charge-back to Hendon and go flying for an hour, land and tear away somewhere else for a game of squash, and finally finish with a night club. And yet lie always seemed rather bored with life. "Too much money, that's his trouble," was what his friends and enemies thought, and would have been surprised to loarn that his wealth consisted of four hundred a year. But Vincent was well oft', and the reason was "work," and hardly a soul know this or wjiat was his particular form of obtaining money. V'incent was lounging in an armchair of the Terrace Club on the London Kmbankment, and hi.? chief thought at the moment was beer. A young man in a blue suit came into the .room. "Fancy .seeing yon here at the hour of eleven ack emma !" cried Jitn I-ancer, a friend in whom Floyd ^con- fided more than anybody else. "Not piayi-ng golf?" "I've knocked the cover ofl the ball down in the Surrey Hills." came the happy answer. " Started soon after breakfast. Jim, I've developed an appalling hook." "Swinging the club round the body or too much right hand," decided liis friend. "Having hacked up the course, you're drowning your sorrows in drink ?" "Nothing of the sort." Vincent did not move from his lolling position. "I'm searching for a " He stopped suddenly, and Jim saw his friend give him a warning glance. The butler had appeared with the beer. "Tlianks," drawled Vincent, and then when the servant was out of hearing shot out a remark that shook Lancer. "I'm searching for a murderer." "\V-w-what's that?" gurgled his friend since schooldays. "13id you say murderer '!" 'Yep, you know my hobby." Vincent sat up and took a deep draught of ale. "Ah, that's the stuff! Marlow knows his goods. I've let you into one of several of my small doings and you've been very useful at times. Just as well to keep in with a big noise at the Croydon airport, and it may be that }ou can help nie this time. At the moment I'm \.orking on shreds, but they're patching up." "I haven't heard about any murder,", came the puzzled question. "Are the Yard keeping " "Not so loud with your yards," warned Vincent Floyd, and dived his hand into his pockets. "Take a squint at these." Many a time Jim Lancer had been startled by the deeds of his dare-devil friend. He was one of the very few who knew Vincent was one of Scotland Yard's ablest investigators. But the glinting necklace fairly startled him. "Why, those are •" "Lady Angela's sparklers," came the cool reply. "Got those last night." "You were Jiere last night and slightly hinged, old top." Jim reminded him. "I was surprised to see you so bottled." "Maybe I wasn't quite so binged a» you thought," Vincent said quietly "One can appear to drink and yet not drink. Many a full glass I've parked under my chair or out of a window. At any rate, I got 'em last night, and they're my first big clue to the murder." "What murder?" ."Ever hear of James Hirst?" "Hirst—Hirst?" Jim frowned. "Yes, I did somewhere. I remember—he was a detective who came over from America, and then something happened." "Yep, disappeared; he was ono of Pinkerton's best men." Vincent finished his beer. "Marvellous stuff to get the brain busy. He was found drowned a week ago. Yes, Jim. drowned in the Seine, on the mud flatit near those underground sewers. There was no evidence of violence, but wo know he was murdered. What's more, old boy, how did it happen that Hirst should disappear in England and Jiis body turn up in the Seine? That is the problem in a niit~sholl. Tho.so sparklers I associate with the bunch who caused Hirst's death. Sounds easy, don't it? Join me in another beer?" "No, thanks. Vincent." The Croydon -official got to Jiis feet. "I-just popped into the club to see if-there were any letters. By the way, didn't you promise to meet Morella this morning?" Vincent Flovd clapped hi.s hand to October 3rcl, 1931.