The Toff In New York Read Online Free PDF

axiom among many others.
    She drew herself up, felt better, and went quickly to
the door. As she went, she hoped that the caller would not ring again; yet the interval seemed unending, she couldn’t get to the door quickly enough. If it rang.
    It rang.
    She jumped; and then clenched her teeth. For a moment she hesitated - and then she heard Brian Conway’s voice.
    â€œValerie, are you there? Valerie?”
    He rang again, but her fears were gone; she need not dread opening the door to find a man leaning against it, with blood on his neck and his back. At last, she opened the door and Conway stood looking at her; Halloran was just behind, his craggy, ill-shaven face looking like the valley of a thousand hills.
    Everything was all right.
    Well, Brian Conway was all right. . . .
    His expression had changed. He wasn’t really the same; not hurt, not scared, not dishevelled but - grimmer; much more grim. As if he brought bad news. With that thought, all the dread Valerie had felt returned, with all her fears for Wilf. She drew back into the room, hands clenched, almost at screaming point as Conway followed her and Halloran came behind.
    Halloran closed the door; it was as if he shut out hope.
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4
ILL TIDINGS
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    Valerie said: “What’s the matter?” in a whisper which she could hardly hear herself. When Conway drew closer to her, with that set, grim face, she made herself cry: “What’s happened? What’s the matter?”
    â€œNow take it easy,” Brian Conway ordered. He took her hands and held them tightly; almost possessively. “It isn’t as bad as all that, Val; just take it easy.”
    â€œWhat has happened to Wilf?”
    â€œNow listen, ma’am,” said Halloran in that rock-hard voice; “nothing’s happened to your brother, and if you’re careful I guess nothing will. So, ma’am, don’t take on so.”
    He closed his mouth; it was like closing a trap.
    Conway slid an arm round Valerie’s shoulders.
    â€œTake it easy, Val,” he said, “and everything will be all right. You needn’t worry; Mike and I will see to that.”
    Make gave a portentous nod; had Valerie been less terrified and blind with fears, she would have seen how ridiculous Halloran was; like a small-part player stealing a Hollywood quickie. As it was, her common sense told her that these men were in some plot to cheat both her and Wilf.
    Wilf!
    â€œWilf’s fine, just fine,” Conway told her, and gulped.
    That, and the grimness of his expression, told Valerie that it wasn’t true; whether he was responsible or not, he was bringing her bad news. She wrenched herself free, and cried:
    â€œWill you tell me what’s happened to Wilf?”
    â€œSure, Brian, tell her,” Halloran said.
    Conway moistened his lips.
    â€œNow take it easy,” he repeated, as if he was afraid that Valerie would throw herself at him, or fly into hysterics. “He’s been - kidnapped, that’s all.”
    â€œSure,” nodded Halloran. “Snatched.”
    For a few seconds, the word was just a word: snatched. Valerie had feared nearly every catastrophe: a road accident, murder, illness; and yet she hadn’t even thought of Wilf being kidnapped. It was a word which had no personal meaning, an archaic kind of word, conjuring up visions of the Caribbean Sea, pirates and buccaneers; or, in these modern days, sensational stories in gaudy newspapers. It had never had any flesh-and-blood significance, no part of daily life. Yet, as she stared rather stupidly at Conway, she began to realise how it fitted in with her suspicions of him. And she should have suspected it - kidnapping, ransom - oh, it all fitted in. But all she could say, very weakly, was:
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œSnatched,” repeated Halloran.
    â€œYou mean - kidnapped?” Now that it was beginning to make sense, it brought worse fear. She didn’t know how to