The Baron Goes East Read Online Free PDF Page B

morning.” He grinned. “How’s that for pomposity?”
    The Indian sat silent and sullen, meeting Bristow’s gaze defiantly.
    Bristow lit a cigarette, studied first the Indian, then Mannering, and made a palpable effort to regain his self-control. He blew smoke-rings as he said: “Isn’t there a police station near you?”
    â€œI could have tried Great Marlborough Street, but as I wanted a word with you I thought I’d bring him in person. Care to have him charged with assault on Carraby while we have a chat?”
    Bristow said: “I wonder what you really want.” But he sent for a sergeant and gave instructions. The sullen Indian was taken out. Bristow lit a cigarette from the stub of one that was only half-smoked, leaned back in his chair, and said: “Now what?”
    Mannering murmured: “In confidence, off the record, not for publication.”
    â€œI’m not a newspaperman.”
    â€œOf course,” went on Mannering, “I could just leave things as they are and you guessing. But I thought you’d like to know what he really came for.”
    Bristow smoothed down his moustache.
    â€œThat blue diamond. Where’s the mystery?”
    He was no fool. He could be obstinate, could refuse to listen to a story in confidence. If he refused, Mannering need say nothing but would not gain what he wanted – recommendation to the Bombay police. He sat back, smiling.
    â€œAll right, let’s have it,” Bristow said.
    He did not have to help, even when he knew the story. Mannering had been the Baron, and no policeman could forget that. Any policeman, even Bristow, who had become a friend, might rebel against recommending him to another police force, especially in a country bristling with jewels.
    Mannering felt on edge, briskly though he talked.
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CHAPTER FIVE
TICKETS FOR TWO
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    Bristow listened, Mannering talked and thought. There were a dozen reasons why the Yard man should decide that this was an official matter, and that the only help he could give was official. Mannering “forgot” to say that Yusuf Phiroshah had been murdered in New York; “forgot” to mention that the Maharajah of Ganpore was believed to have a store of the blue diamonds. Old Aly Phiroshah wanted help; it would be a business trip and holiday combined. If he, Mannering, ran into trouble, it would be invaluable if he could call on the Indian police knowing that he had the moral support of Bristow of the Yard.
    He etched in the raid by the two Indians; obviously they had believed that Shani had the diamond and had broken in to try to get it. The smaller of the two men had escaped, the larger was the prisoner.
    â€œWhat’s his name?” Bristow asked.
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œSo you really want to convince me that you haven’t questioned him.”
    â€œIt can’t be half an hour since I caught him,” Mannering pointed out.
    â€œAlmost a reformed character, aren’t you? Well, whatever happens won’t be on my doorstep. I’ll tell them at Bombay, Delhi and Calcutta what a wonderful amateur detective you are and how often you’ve helped the Yard. I’ll forget to tell them that you’re the best man at cracking a crib in England.”
    Mannering kept a straight face.
    â€œThat’s fine, Bill.”
    â€œLorna going?” asked Bristow.
    â€œShe’d like to.”
    â€œI don’t know that I’d take her,” said Bristow thoughtfully. “I’m not sure that India’s a place for a white woman these days.”
    â€œDon’t tell me you know India.”
    Bristow grinned. “Bombay, Calcutta and Madras—yes. Years ago.” He picked up the telephone and said into it: “Get me Chamberlin.” He held on, and added for Mannering’s benefit: “Chamberlin knows more about India than anyone here. He went to study drugs there, a year ago. It strengthens