The Toff In New York Read Online Free PDF Page A

said. “Now, be patient a little longer. When Conway and his friend come back, don’t tell them what’s happened. Appear as worried as you like about your brother, but say nothing about the visitor. If they ask you if anyone called, say no. And if they want you to leave the apartment, don’t. Offer any excuse you like, but don’t leave the apartment with them or with anyone else until I’ve told you that it’s all right to go.”
    Valerie cried: “But why?”
    â€œYour brother seems to be lost, and we don’t want to lose you too,” Rollison said dryly. “Don’t worry too much, don’t talk too much - I’ll see you before very long.”
    She couldn’t let it go at that.
    â€œBut who are you, why are you doing this, how did
you know”
    â€œIf I were you,” Rollison interrupted, in that quiet and confident voice, “I should take things very easily - and have a drink to calm your nerves. I know it’s difficult, but if you want to help Wilf, do just as I say.”
    â€œBut . . .“ Valerie began again, gaspingly.
    He rang off.
    She put the receiver down slowly, but didn’t get up from the side of the bed. The room seemed so very quiet, now. She looked through the open door towards the passage door, and could not see the spots on the carpet. She looked down at her hands; they seemed quite clear of blood. So did her stockings. She didn’t ring for service, but went to her travelling case, took a small gold flask and unscrewed the cap and sipped a little brandy. After a few minutes, she sipped a little more. As she put the flask away, she realised how badly frightened she was, and as she stood up from an easy-chair, she understood how much worse she would have felt if she had been on her own; if it had not been for the man next door. But who was he? Confidence tricksters sometimes worked in groups.
    She remembered his name: Rollison.
    She thought that she had heard the name before, and now she began to tell herself that his face was familiar. It wasn’t only that she had seen him at London airport; her recollection was of a meeting a long time before that. Or had she seen his photograph? She couldn’t think beyond that point, but made herself think of Wilf, and what might have happened to him, and she shivered again.
    What about Conway?
    Should she do what Rollison said, and not tell Conway
of the visit, the wounded man, the blood . . .
    She felt rather better, now; the brandy was helping. She moved to the open suitcase on the luggage-stand, and began to unpack, doing everything very slowly and with great precision. She was glad that Wilf hadn’t arranged for her to have a maid here; a maid would have complicated the situation hopelessly, and it was bad enough now. Whenever she stopped working, it was as if a wave of terror began to sweep over her; only by keeping busy could she hold it at bay.
    Could she hide the truth from Conway?
    Perhaps when he came back he would say that he had news of Wilf. If he had, then Rollison could talk as much as he liked, she would do whatever Conway wanted. There was no way of being sure that he was a rogue.
    Valerie heard a sound at the door.
    The wave of fear threatened again, and she spun round, with her hands raised. The sound might have been a footfall; she just wasn’t sure. She felt rigid, and yet began to tremble. The sound wasn’t repeated and an age seemed to pass before she began to relax; as soon as she did, the bell rang.
    She gasped: “No!”
    Her nerves had never been so bad; perhaps because she was tired - she’d hardly slept the previous night. Whatever the cause, she was in a hopeless mood.
    She closed her eyes, and swayed; and then gradually fought to regain control of herself. It was the sound of the ringing bell and the memory of what it had heralded before that had affected her, but - keep calm. Her father had made his millions by following that