The Saint in Action Read Online Free PDF

In the course of a long and wide experience I’ve rarely seen a head bashed in with so much thoroughness. I shouldn’t be surprised if they found his brains coming out through his eyes when they turned him over.”
    The young man’s mouth fell slowly open as if his chin was being lowered like a drawbridge.
    “You don’t say he’s—dead?”
    “If you’re sensitive about it we’ll say he has awoken to life immortal. But the one certain thing is that he’ll never pay you your tenner now unless he’s left it to you in his will. I had an idea something had gone screwy—that’s why I sent you back here. It was sheer luck that I happened to see Chief Inspector Teal’s tummy bulging out of the front door as we were driving up; otherwise the party might have been even breezier than it was.”
    Graham seemed to wobble a little as the full meaning of the Saint’s words worked into his brain. His face went paler, and he steadied himself against the back of a chair.
    “Do you mean he was murdered?”
    “That was the idea I was trying to put over,” Simon admitted. “Directly I saw Claud Eustace floating around I knew something had blown up—he doesn’t go chasing out with his magnifying glass and pedigree bloodhounds because somebody’s lost a collar stud. And there he was with his photographers and finger-printers and the body in the library, just like the best detective stories. So we had a cheery little chat.”
    “I think I need a drink,” said Patricia faintly.
    She got up and fetched a bottle of sherry and some glasses; and the Saint blew a smoke ring and spoilt it with a chuckle.
    “Are you out on bail, or did you just run away?” she enquired. “I mean, I don’t want to interfere with you, but it ‘d be sort of helpful to know.”
    “Not a bit of it, darling. It wasn’t that sort of chat. He puffed and trumpeted to some extent at the start, but that was only natural. I soothed him with my well-known charm; and then he got awfully cunning. If you’ve ever seen Claud Eustace being cunning you won’t want to go to the circus any more. He opened his heart to me and talked about the case and asked me all kinds of innocent questions, and he was working so hard at being affable that the perspiration was fairly streaming down his face; and every time I gave him an innocent answer his eyes got smaller and brighter and I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel. Of course in order to keep the conversation going and bait his traps for me he had to give me a certain amount of information, and I was supposed to drop a few bricks in reply; but it didn’t exactly work out that way, and eventually I thought I’d better push off before he had a seizure.” The Saint’s eyes danced behind the veils of smoke drifting across his face. “However, I didn’t do too badly out of the exchange myself; and one of the useful bits of gossip I picked up was the name of the chief current suspect.”
    “Who’s that?” asked Graham feverishly.
    “You!”
    The word hit Graham in the midriff and almost doubled him up. He gaped at the Saint with his Adam’s apple jigging up and down like a yo-yo for some seconds before his voice came back.
    “Me?” he croaked.
    “Who else? You were the last person in the flat. You were very steamed up about seeing Ingleston. You were fuming when the maid slung you out. The last thing you told her was that you’d have something to say to Ingleston later. It’s the sort of clue that even a policeman couldn’t miss. They’re looking for you now… . Which reminds me.”
    He reached out for the telephone and called the porter’s desk downstairs.
    “That you, Sam? … Simon Templar speaking. You know that bloke who came to see me earlier this morning, who went out with me? … No, you’re wrong. He didn’t come back. In fact he never came here at all. You never saw him in your life. Nobody’s been to see me today. Have you got that? … Good man.”
    Graham was still breathing