Alias the Saint Read Online Free PDF Page A

also spared a glance for the girl. Obviously she was one of their party; but she did not strike Simon as being the sort of girl he would have expected to find in association with the men he was after, and he had some hopes of getting a clue to her status with them by observing the way in which she greeted their arrival. And he was not unpleasantly surprised to find that she looked up furtively—almost, he would have said, in terror.
    The three men, as the Saint might have foreseen, showed no surprise at finding him at their table. They came straight over and ranged themselves before him, and Simon rose with his most charming smile.
    “Good-morning,” he said.
    The tallest of the three bowed.
    “Our table, I think, Professor Smith?”
    “Absolutely,” agreed the Saint.” I’ve just finished, and you can step right in”
    “You are very kind.”
    Simon screwed up his napkin, dropped it on the table, and took out his cigarette case. His eyes focused thoughtfully on the man who stood on the left of the tall man who appeared to be the leader.
    “Mr. Gregory Marring, I believe?”
    “Correct. ”
    “Six months ago,” said the Saint, “a special messenger left Hatton Garden for Paris, with a parcel of diamonds valued at twenty thousand pounds. He travelled to Dover by the eleven o’clock boat-train from Victoria. He was seen to board the cross-Channel packet at Dover, but when the ship arrived at Calais he was found lying dead in his cabin with his head beaten in, and the diamonds he carried have not been heard of since. I don’t want you to think I am making any rash accusations, Marring, but I just thought you might be interested to hear that I happen to know you travelled on that boat.”
    His leisurely gaze shifted to the man on the extreme right.
    “Mr. Albert Edward Crantor?”
    “Thasso.”
    “The Court of Inquiry could only find you guilty of culpable negligence,” Said the Saint, “but the Special Branch haven’t forgotten the size of the insurance, and they’re still hoping that it won’t be long before they can prove you lost your ship deliberately. The case isn’t ready yet, but it’s tentatively booked for the next Sessions. I’m just warning you.”
    The man in the centre smiled.
    “Surely, Professor Smith,” he remarked, “you aren’t going to leave me out of your series of brief biographical sketches?”
    “For the moment I prefer to,” answered the Saint steadily. “At any moment, however, I may change my mind. When I do, you’ll hear from me soon enough. Good-morning, my lovely ones.”
    . He turned his back on them and walked quietly to the door; but he opened the door with an unexpectedly sudden jerk, and the movement was so quick that Basher Tope had no time to recover his balance and fell sprawling into the room. Simon caught him by the collar and yanked him to his feet.
    “This reminds me,” said the Saint, turning. “There was another man skulking around when I came down this morning. I know him, too.”
    The other three were plainly surprised.
    “Everyone here of importance is presently in this room,” said Raxel. “You must be suffering from a delusion.”
    “The man I saw was no delusion,” Smith replied. “His name is Duncarry. He’s a much-wanted American gun artist who’s come to England for his health. We still don’t know how he slipped into the country, but he’s one of the men I’m taking back to London with me when I go. There’s a seat reserved for him in the hot chair at Sing Sing, and if you see him loafing around here again you can tell him I said so!”
    With that parting shot he left them, and as he closed the door softly behind him he began to whistle.
    “Now I guess I’ve rubbed the menagerie right on the raw!” Simon Templar thought cheerfully. “If my after-breakfast speech doesn’t make those gay birds hop, I wonder what will?”
    4
    Simon spent the morning reading and drinking beer. The three men and the girl sat late over breakfast,