Here Comes the Toff Read Online Free PDF

followed was too sickly for Anthea, and the tea that came afterwards was thick and black and sugary. But there was a fascination for her about the coffee shop, the girl who looked so unkempt and young and yet exchanged backchat with the wit of a woman twice her age.
    As the Toff started to get up, he paused, for a man in a spotlessly white apron, with a large flabby face and a long black moustache, came out from the kitchen.
    â€œI thought it was you,” he said, and his hand went out for the Toff to grip. “’Ow’s tricks, Mr. R? Not on the look-abaht, I ’ope.”
    â€œNot at your shop, Sam, you’re always reliable.”
    Sam sniffed, eyeing Anthea curiously.
    â€œMaybe, maybe not, Mr. R. Gits some rum customers ’ere sometimes. You ’eard anything?”
    â€œNo,” said the Toff.
    â€œIrma’s aht,” said Sam, in so low a voice that Anthea could not catch the words.
    The Toff said gently: “Yes, I had heard that. Do you know where she is?”
    â€œI bin wonderin’,” said Sam. “Charlie Wray’s the most likely fer ’er to visit, I reckon, ’e useter work fer ’er brother. If you ’as a smack at ’er, smack ’er ’ard, Mr. R. She ain’t up to no good.”
    â€œWe think as one,” said the Toff. “I’ll let you know if anything develops, Sam. Meanwhile, meet Miss Munro.”
    Sam turned his long black moustache in the direction of Anthea, and with care wiped his hand on the inside of his apron before offering it to her. His grip was surprisingly firm. As he smiled she saw the roguish expression in his eyes, and realized for the first time that there was something attractive about him.
    â€œ How de do?” asked Sam, with considerable emphasis on the “H”. “ H everything as yer liked it?”
    â€œIt was excellent,” said Anthea.
    â€œThat’s the ticket. Sam’s fer food wot fills yer, that’s my motter.” He offered his hand again, even attempted something of a bow, and saw them to the door. As they went out of earshot, Anthea said: “There you are, you see. I must look a freak to them, Rolly.”
    â€œDarling, those eyes of yours do it, and your voice. But don’t worry about that, with Sam it was a sign of respect extended to all those whom I bring with me. It’s a whispering shop.”
    â€œA what?”
    â€œA whispering shop. If anything’s happening that the police don’t know and want to, they try Sam’s. He’s not a squealer—a police informer—but if there’s any really nasty stuff about he will whisper. Most of these people will give drug-traffickers away discreetly, and there aren’t many who like the black.”
    â€œThe black what?”
    â€œOh, such innocence!” exclaimed the Toff, and squeezed her arm. “Blackmail, darling. The extorting of money by threats of the disclosure of unhappy incidents from a man or woman’s past, or the unbaring of a skeleton in a reputable family’s cupboard.”
    â€œThank you,” said Anthea coldly. “What was he talking to you about?”
    â€œThe woman in black whom we saw last night.”
    Anthea whistled.
    â€œDoes it get round like that?”
    â€œIt does,” said Rollison. “Everything reaches the East End in time, and usually quick time. There are more knowledgeable people here than you wot of. And now, look at that pub on the corner.”
    It was a dingy looking place with the woodwork green painted, but not recently, and many chalk marks along it, including a hammer and sickle, and, close by, both the lightning-streak-in-a-circle sign of British Fascism, and the not unsimilar cipher of “Ban the Bomb”. The windows of the pub were dirty, the doorstep wanted cleaning, and one glass panel was boarded up. The boards were new.
    â€œA recent rough house at the Blue Dog,” said Rollison, and for