Читать книгу Standish Gets His Man - Percy Francis Westerman - Страница 4
ОглавлениеIn Pursuit
Standish got busy, although he had very little information on which to work.
After less than three years at Hawkscar Aerodrome he was now fourth in point of seniority amongst the flying staff. Promotion was rapid in the Royal Air Constabulary, deaths, injuries, transfers and resignations being contributory factors to Colin's advancement, apart from his good record. He was now in command of D flight, which was one of the four held in readiness to proceed at short notice to any part of the British Isles.
"Thank goodness the men have had dinner!" he said to himself, as he hurried across the parade ground to the orderly office.
The constable on duty at the entrance saluted.
"Turn out D flight, please!" ordered Standish, as he hurried into the room to report to the officer of the day.
Turning out D flight was a comparatively simple business.
The siren blared out a "dash" followed by two "dots".
A turn out of a crack fire-brigade could hardly have been executed in quicker time.
The last sound of the siren had barely died away when the officers and men of the summoned flight came out of their respective quarters—seven sub-inspectors and forty-two constables. Fifteen seconds later they had fallen in in military formation awaiting the arrival of Inspector Colin Standish.
Meanwhile the mechanically operated doors of D section's hangars had opened and seven huge monoplanes, each towed by a small but efficient motor-tractor, emerged almost simultaneously. They were then wheeled into line facing the wind, while the men of the ground staff stood by until their crews "took over".
These monoplanes were a great advance even upon the hitherto superb machines with which the Royal Air Constabulary had been originally equipped.
They were of the all-metal type, with totally enclosed fuselage, retractor landing-wheels and streamlined to the highest degree of efficiency. Each was propelled by four motors, the airscrews being in pairs—one of the tractor and the other of the "pusher" type. Included in the equipment was the improved magneto-arrester device, capable of putting the ignition of a suspicious aircraft out of action at a range of two thousand yards. Each machine carried two of these devices, one mounted in a retractable cupola above the fuselage, the other in a similar housing that when in use was lowered through the floor. This enabled an uninterrupted arc of magnetic action, so that a suspect flying immediately above or below the air police machine could be effectively arrested in more senses than one.
The engines were of the latest type of light Diesels, thereby minimizing the risk of fire and capable of attaining a maximum speed of 360 miles an hour, with a cruising radius of 2000 miles without having to refuel.
Although the fuselage was not armoured, the case-hardened duralium sheathing was supposed to be capable of stopping a high-velocity rifle bullet, while it was claimed that the wings could be riddled by machine-gun fire without seriously impairing the air-worthiness of the 'plane. Another innovation was the fact that the machine was amphibious, and therefore capable of alighting and taking off from the surface of the sea even in rough weather.
Each machine was equipped with a wireless outfit of the "portable" type. This not only did away with the undoubted inconvenience of having to pay out and wind in a trailing aerial, but enabled the operator to take wireless bearings from recognized transmitting stations should the machine encounter fog or snow.
Standish came hurrying over the tarmac. His subordinates stood to attention.
"The American gangsters are busy in the York district," he announced. "Our orders are to patrol section E and keep in touch with the local constabulary. York will wireless a description of the wanted car directly they receive an accurate report. If needs be we must stop every car in the area, but I don't think that will be necessary."
Some of the officers and men smiled at this. It recalled a certain incident when all the motor traffic on the York to Scarborough road had been held up by anti-magnetic rays from Royal Air Constabulary machines. The resulting "jam", although it attained its object, had brought forth a chorus of indignant protests from law-abiding road users. Questions upon the subject had been raised in Parliament, where an undertaking had been given that such drastic measures would not again be employed except in very special cases.
This was one of them. It was better to stop several thousand innocent motorists than to let two criminals escape, since it was realized that gunmen would quickly increase in number if the introducers of this method of crime into the United Kingdom were not promptly laid by the heels.
"That's all, I think, for the present," continued Standish. "All aboard!"
The various crews made a hurried though orderly dash for their respective machines. Hardly had the last sub-inspector climbed on board—the crews did so in order of seniority, those of inferior rank going first—than the auto-actuated motor leaped into a state of subdued activity.
D 1, with Standish as senior officer of the flight, and Don Grey as his second in command, was the first to take off, followed at five-second intervals by the remaining six machines. Within eighteen minutes of the alarm being received at Hawkscar Aerodrome the Royal Air Constabulary machines were speeding to the area in which the redoubtable Mike Doran and his accomplice were believed to be trying to make their get-away.
Rising to a height of one thousand feet—an altitude giving sufficient clearance for the highest part of the Yorkshire wolds—the flight spread fanwise in order to make a rapid though comprehensive combing-out of the whole of the expansive district officially referred to as sector E.
"Another spot of bother, Don," remarked Colin. "Don't be surprised if the blighters get busy with sub-machine-guns."
"I won't be so surprised as when those brigands in Bakhistan started to take pot-shots at us," declared Grey. "I don't mind admitting that put the wind up me properly; only, I was a civil aviation pilot in those days."
"And now you are an air policeman and therefore fair game for any criminal who has the determination and the foolishness to use firearms," rejoined Standish. "Personally I think we're lucky to be up. It's those unfortunate foot-slogging police who will have to face the music if Doran is brought to bay. Ah! We're over Sledmire already."
"Message from Pocklington police, sir," announced the wireless operator. "Car answering description given has been seen proceeding in direction of Rudstone."
"Right! I say, Don, if that's correct the fools are heading towards Hawkscar! Surely they know our depot's there! But we haven't had the description of the wanted car yet."
"Awkward! No matter. Swing her round and call up D 4. We may have to jam every car between here and Rudstone. What's that, Curtis?"
The operator handed Standish a slip of buff paper. On it was scrawled the words: "Car, grey saloon, index number, TK 771."
"Don't see that the index number will help us," observed Don Grey. "More than likely they've changed it already."
D 1's course was altered to the desired direction and speed reduced to a bare eighty miles an hour. In obedience to a wireless order D 4 also swung round and assumed a position about eight hundred yards from her leader's starboard quarter.
Standish rapped out another order. A constable entered the lower cupola in which the magneto-arresting apparatus was placed. The contrivance and its occupant were then let down until the upper edge of the streamlined cupola was flush with the floor of the fuselage.
Meanwhile observers armed with powerful binoculars were scanning the black ribbons across the sward that indicated the comparatively scanty roads across the wild wind-swept wolds.
About half a dozen cars were sighted but they bore no resemblance to the wanted one. Mostly they were old tourers conveying farmers to one of the market-towns.
Presently a grey saloon was spotted making towards Rudstone. It appeared to be moving at a furious pace, and although in the relative positions of 'plane and car the observers in the former were able to catch a brief glimpse at the rear number plate, the angle it presented, coupled with the fact that the numbers were caked with dust, prevented them from deciphering them.
"We'll risk it," decided Standish. "Call up all police stations within ten miles and warn them to get busy. Give the map reference, and tell them we're stopping a suspicious car."
The D 1 swooped down, keeping almost immediately above the quickly moving car.
Then Standish gave the word to switch on.
At that range—barely three hundred feet—the ray operator got on the target almost at once.
The car, with the ignition cut off, ran by its own impetus for nearly two hundred yards, finally coming to a stop close to a large plantation.
The two occupants alighted to discover what was wrong with the engine. Only then they heard the subdued roar of D 1's well-silenced motors.
Abandoning the car they fled like hares into the adjacent cover.
"Confound them!" muttered Standish.
He realized that he had made a mistake. He should have held his hand until the car was well clear of possible cover for the suspects.
It was too late now.
Signalling to D 4 to cruise round, Colin ordered his 'plane to descend. Instead of waiting for the local police to arrive to comb the wood, he was resolved to take the initiative. To effect the arrest of the two gangsters would indeed be a feather in the caps of the Royal Air Constabulary!
Cowlings and landing wheels were lowered and the ray operator raised until the cupola was properly housed. Then, turning into the wind, the monoplane began her descent to earth.
With a good knowledge of the district, Standish knew that it abounded with tolerably fair emergency landing grounds. Sheep had cropped the grass on the gently undulating wolds until the ground was almost as smooth as a cricket pitch.
The machine made a perfect landing, coming to rest within two hundred yards of the nearest edge of the plantation. Here, unless the bandits had taken their sub-machine-guns with them—their hurried flight seemed to have precluded such a possibility—she was perfectly safe from long-range destructive action on their part.
Leaving the operator and another constable on guard in the 'plane, Standish marshalled his men and cautioned them of the dangerous reputation of the suspects, who were quite likely to put up a desperate resistance and were not likely to spare their opponents in any circumstances.
Then, detailing Sub-Inspector Grey to search the abandoned car, he led the remaining four constables towards the plantation.
At six paces interval they advanced, holding their automatics ready for instant action and not knowing whether a rapid fire would greet them from the shelter of the fir trees.
They were still some distance off when to their surprise the two fugitives emerged and held their hands above their heads.
Standish felt a pang of disappointment. This tame and speedy ending to the chase had robbed it of any sense of excitement.
But had it?
