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Authors: John Creasey

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BOOK: An Apostle of Gloom
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Tennant was still in the outer room, looking bewildered and peering through at Lois, who was sobbing less violently but who had not moved. Roger looked about the poorly furnished bedroom. There was a small window, fairly high up – he did not think there was any chance of her getting out that way, or of anyone breaking in. He closed the door and then turned to Tennant, who said: “You do take things into your own hands, don't you?”

“In this case I must,” Roger said, smiling and offering a cigarette. “How much do you know of the trouble?”

“Absolutely nothing!”

“You're sure?”

“Now look here, when I say a thing I mean it,” declared Tennant, and Roger was prepared to believe it of the forthright young man. “I've been in Scotland for four months. I'm”—he grinned—”an unarmed combat instructor! Before I left, Lois was – well, she was just her normal self. As a matter of fact,” he added with some embarrassment, “we'd got engaged during my last leave and I was rather in the clouds, you know. Her letters didn't say anything about what's been happening but a friend of mine wrote and told me that she seemed to be worried stiff. He didn't know what it was about. I didn't say anything about coming down but I managed to wangle a week's leave earlier than I'd expected. I found – well, she's as jumpy as a cat! I thought she would fall through the floor when she saw me. Then I realised that some damned swine – I don't know who they are – are pestering the life out of her. She's absolutely
frightened,”
Tennant added, his voice rising in bewilderment. “I can't make her say why, she keeps telling me that it's nothing to worry about and although I've offered to help her she won't listen to me. She – why, she even told me to go back!”

“More mystery,” Roger murmured.

“Do you know why she's so frightened?” demanded Tennant. “No,” admitted Roger, “but I hope to, soon.”

 

Chapter 13
STRICTLY UNOFFICIAL

 

Janet and Mark arrived just inside the hour, primed by Roger's talk of a damsel in distress and therefore making no great fuss when they were admitted by Roger. Janet seemed to have recovered her composure completely.

Lois was in the bedroom with Tennant, who had gone in a few minutes before and who seemed to have been talking ever since. Janet looked radiant, with a high colour in her cheeks – probably the glow of excitement. That, too, was out of character in such circumstances, she was undoubtedly more excitable than usual.

Mark looked slightly peeved, doubtless because he had been so inactive.

“Well, darling?” asked Janet.

Roger said: “The thing to accept first, sweet, is that we've found the girl who paid in the money and—”

“What!” cried Mark. “You've found her and—”

“We can't do anything at all about it yet,” Roger said. “She's been acting under compulsion and is so frightened that she doesn't know what she's doing or saying. And she's had a visit from Masher Malone,” he added, gently.

Mark stared, bewildered.

The voices continued from the other room, Lois's occasionally raised above Tennant's; it was clear that she was still refusing to explain. Roger told the others what had happened since he left Welbeck Street and found time to explain the visit of Mrs. Sylvester Cartier and the Society of European Relief. They heard him out without comment, although Mark was scowling and Janet frowning very thoughtfully.

“So,” he finished, “we've got to nurse the girl to a better frame of mind, because she can probably give us the key to much of it, although she'll almost certainly be in some danger.”

“Ye-es,” said Janet, “that's fairly obvious, darling.”

“Sorry,” said Roger, a little disgruntled.

“Are you going to ask for police protection for her?” Janet demanded.

“I don't think so, yet,” said Roger. “I think if she were to be interviewed by Abbott she'd flop right out – he would give her the finishing touch and we don't want that if we can avoid it. No, for the time being I think it had better be strictly unofficial. We won't be able to get any help from Pep himself but we can use one or two of his men. Then there's this fellow Tennant, as well as we three. That should be enough.”

Mark said thoughtfully: “I rather like the sound of Tennant. I wish I'd seen him handle Malone!”

Soberly, Roger commented: “He's made a bad enemy there; if only for the sake of revenge, Malone will come after him.”

“Roger,” said Janet, “I think you're making a mistake.”

“Where?” demanded Roger.

“By not telling the Yard everything,” Janet said. “No, wait until I've finished!” she added as Roger was about to interrupt. “You've admitted that Malone is dangerous and I think if you told them what happened here this afternoon they would arrest him.”

“Even if they couldn't prove much, they would be able to keep him out of harm's way,” Mark said, quickly.

“After all, they should be able to do something about what happened this morning,” Janet added, quickly, “and you and Tennant can say that he actually attacked him and uttered threats, can't you?”

Roger smiled, amusedly.

“Oh, yes! On the evidence of the three of us – always providing Lois would give evidence, which I think is doubtful.”

“Who?”
demanded Janet.

“Lois. She—oh!” Roger grinned but coloured slightly and Mark eyed him owlishly.

“Very familiar,” Mark said in sombre tones,
“very
familiar, indeed. If I were you I wouldn't stand for it, Jan!”

“Don't beg the issue,” said Roger, severely. “I was about to say that we could probably put Malone inside for a week or two, if we could find him. He won't fail to realise that we might lodge a complaint and he'll probably keep out of the way. That apart, do we want him under charge?”

“And you're a policeman!” exclaimed Mark, shocked.

“But also strictly unofficial,” Roger reminded him. “You know as well as I do, old man, that you've often been a tower of strength because you could do things which, as a busy, I couldn't. If we put Malone away we may not find a way of getting in touch with the higher-ups in this business but if we let him run loose we'll find him after us sooner or later and can turn that to some advantage.” He sounded rather pedantic. “I don't think it's a mistake, Jan.”

“Well, you have put a rather different light on it,” Janet conceded. “All right, we'll do it your way.”

“Thanks,” said Roger, with exaggerated politeness.

“What are you going to do with the girl?” Mark inquired.

“We'll take her home, of course,” said Janet.

“I see a snag if we do that,” Mark said. “Roger isn't out of the wood yet and there will be Yard men watching until he is. The Yard will know that the girl is mixed up in the case and I wouldn't put it past Abbott to demand an interview with her. Besides, you've already told him that you've found who paid in the money, haven't you? He'll jump to conclusions. This isn't just an attempt to frame you, old man, it's a pretty big show.”

Roger said: “Ye-es. You're right, of course, but where can—”

“You could use my flat,” Mark said, hopefully.

“Of course, the police wouldn't think of going there,” Janet said, sarcastically.
“That's
no good.”

“Well, she must go somewhere,” said Mark, slightly affronted, “and—”

“I don't see why you shouldn't go to an hotel,” Roger said. “One of the glitter palaces would be a good idea, if we can get a couple of rooms.”

“Nonsense!” ejaculated Janet, making Roger eye her meekly. “Those places are all doors and I couldn't be sure that she wouldn't run away or that someone wouldn't come and take her away. An hotel like that won't do. Don't you know of a small place where we could confide in the manager and put one or two of Pep Morgan's men to guard it – somewhere in the suburbs, if you can't think of one in the centre of London? On the other hand,” she went on, “the more central the better, because we'd be close by. There must be such a place. I don't mind leaving home,” she added, generously, “but we must be sensible.”

“I am duly humbled,” grinned Roger. “You're quite right, and I think I know a place where they might be able to fix you up. Mark and I would stay at Chelsea, of course.”

“Lois,” said Mark, with mild emphasis, “might have something to say about it, as well as her young man.”

“I think we'll be able to persuade them,” said Roger. “If they come out before I'm back, introduce yourselves, won't you?” He moved towards the door.

“Where are you off to?” demanded Janet.

“Only to the telephone,” Roger assured her.

He was back in ten minutes. No one had come from the bedroom but the voices grew quieter – whether the couple had decided that it was not worth further argument, or whether they had reached an agreement, Roger could only guess. He told Janet and Mark that he had been able to make arrangements with the proprietor of the Legge Private Hotel, in Buckingham Palace Gate, for accommodation. He knew Legge, the proprietor, fairly well; it was a good class family hotel where they would be comfortable and where, if necessary, Roger and Mark could stay for the night. With that off his mind, Roger went to the bedroom door and tapped on it.

“Just a moment,” Bill Tennant called.

There was another murmur of voices before the door opened.

Apparently Lois had realised that she had made a wreck of herself and she had made up her face quickly. It was obvious enough that she had been crying but she looked pretty and self-composed, very much better groomed than the untidy Tennant, who was a little embarrassed when he saw newcomers. The girl seemed to take their presence more for granted.

“I have nothing to say,” she declared, quietly.

“I—I've tried to make her tell you everything,” Tennant said, awkwardly, “but—”

Roger said: “It will all work out, I think. If Lois”—her eyes widened at his use of her Christian name—”doesn't feel that it's time to talk freely we'll have to accept that. There are other things more important. In the first place, both of you are in acute danger.”

“Eh?” Tennant ejaculated. “Now, come off it, I—”

“Malone is a bad enemy,” Roger said, “and his temper won't be improved by the way you smacked him down. He has friends, and you can't handle a bunch of them in the way you handled one.” He rubbed it in, conscious of the increasing anxiety in Lois's eyes. “They won't stop at using knives and razors. Will they, Lois?”

Startled, she said: “No, I—”

“How the devil do you know?” cried Tennant.

“We've decided not to press that point,” Roger told him, but he was puzzled by the girl's admission that she knew how Malone would fight. “Both of you are on the wanted list, so while Malone is free you'll be in danger. What I've arranged is—” he told them, briefly, of the Legge Hotel and the other arrangements.

He expected the girl to protest, but she did not. He was pleasantly surprised, for she gave him the impression that she was pleased with the suggestion. Tennant raised the only objections, saying with some spirit: “I don't see why I can't look after Lois. Anyhow, why are you so determined to hide her away, West?”

Roger smiled. “A nice point! Tennant, Lois will admit that she has impersonated my wife and as a result of it I'm in bad odour at Scotland Yard. If anything happens to her, and I seriously think it will, unless we take great care, one of the witnesses in my defence disappears.”

“What defence?” demanded Tennant.

“The trouble is that you know only half the story,” Roger said. “Why don't you take my word that the only sensible course is for both of you to stay at the hotel, in hiding, venturing out only after dark until it's blown over.”

“I'm
not going to hide from a punk like Malone!”

“All right,” said Roger, resignedly, “when there's a chance for you to throw your weight about I'll tell you, but don't be obstructive now.” His glance at the man said clearly that, with Lois more or less amenable, it would be wiser for him to withdraw his objections. Again he was agreeably surprised, for Tennant shrugged his shoulders and said that he supposed Roger knew what he was talking about.

“So that's settled?” Janet asked, eagerly.

“It—it doesn't matter what you do, I can't tell you anything,” Lois said, obdurately. “I won't pretend that I wouldn't be glad to hide away, but I just can't talk. I
won't
explain!” Her eyes were bright with defiance.

Roger smiled. “Haven't we agreed that the subject's not to be discussed now?”

“It won't be any use saying that—that I came with you under false pretences.”

“It wouldn't enter our heads!” declared Mark, brightly and with his head on one side. “When are we moving, Roger? Now, or after dark?”

“After dark,” Roger said.

Tennant exclaimed: “Do you seriously think there is danger in daylight?”

“Oh, no,” interrupted Mark. “He's going to this trouble because he likes the look in your eyes! Don't be an ass, Tennant. This business is serious and we haven't got anywhere near the bottom of it yet. Lois is in danger because she has information which might cause a riot amongst her erstwhile friends. Accept things as they are, you won't help things by being incredulous.”

Tennant scowled but shrugged his shoulders and conceded grudgingly: “All right, I suppose we'd better work with you.”

“That's fine!” said Roger, briskly. “All four of you, then, will go to the Legge Hotel. I'll join you as soon as I can.” He had been edging towards the door casually and with no apparent motive, but now he picked up his hat from a chair and opened the door quickly. “Tell them as much of the story as they don't know,” he added, “I'll be seeing you!”

“Roger!” cried Janet. “Roger – why, the old devil!”

She stared at the closed door then hurried across to it, pulled it open and stepped out. The door was pushed to gently as an arm slid about her waist. She gasped and Roger kissed her cheek.

“You scared me!” she protested.

“And I intended to,” said Roger. “That's the kind of thing that is liable to happen in the next few days, my sweet, so don't run undue risks. I had to slip out quickly or Mark would have wanted to come with me and I'm not happy at leaving you and Lois Randall to young Tennant on his own.”

“So you do know her surname,” Janet said, sarcastically.

“Darling, you don't seriously—”

“Idiot!” said Janet, and squeezed his arm. She went on soberly: “Roger, I'm really beginning to get frightened, there are so many complications. Mark told me about this man Malone before—”

“You've much more to worry about than him,” said Roger. “Some time this evening I'm going to see one of the seven most beautiful women in the world, a Mrs. Sylvester Cartier, in fact. Now if I started to call her Antoinette, you would have cause for pointed questions!”

“You seem to know everyone by their first names,” Janet said. She sounded almost serious, but Roger laughed it off.

“Well, I have to be friendly! I haven't placed the beautiful Mrs. Cartier yet, she may be leading me into an elaborate trap. On the other hand, she betrayed the Society and Pickerell and I'm taking a chance with her. This is what I wanted to tell you about, darling – and I do
not
want Tennant or Lois to hear you tell Mark.”

“What is it?” asked Janet.

“I'm going to number 11 Bonnock House,” Roger said. “I don't know where it is, I'll try to find out from Cornish – he'll get the information for me. If I'm not back by”—he paused—”well, say ten o'clock, let Cornish know and tell him that I was last at the house with Mrs. Cartier. Will you do that?”

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