42 The Extortioners by John Creasey

Author:John Creasey [Creasey, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Hokki Club?

Roger stood by Richard’s side, leaned down and told Jones he could go, and walked with his son up the crazy paving path which led towards the detached, yellow brick house, mellowed by the near-thirty years the Wests had lived there, with a beautifully-kept lawn and a matured garden.

Richard was saying: “She only got here about ten minutes ago. Apparently she had telephoned the Yard and they said you were on your way here. She’s stunning, isn’t she?”

“How much has she said?”

“Very little. Mum offered her a drink and they’re in the front room – her back’s to the window, so just keep your voice down. She just said it was extremely urgent that she should talk to you.”

“Confidentially.”

“Good Lord! Yes.” Richard’s bright eyes flashed; he could behave as if he were the most naive young man in the world; although in some ways he was most sophisticated. “What’s on, Dad?”

“Her husband died two days ago and her only son was brutally attacked this lunchtime, and may be dead.”

“Good Lord!” exclaimed Richard again. “You’d think she hadn’t a care in the world. Er – can I help?”

“Have you got your car here?”

“Yes.”

“Stand by, I may need a lift.”

“Anywhere,” Richard replied expansively. “Husband and son – it would be like Mum losing you and – and Scoop.”

“Her only son,” Roger pointed out. They were at the back door now and he stepped into the kitchen, rinsed his hands and face at the sink and dried on a towel Richard held out, and went along the passage by the stairs to the front room. It flashed momentarily through his mind that it must seem strange to Lady Fellowes, used to luxury, to visit a small suburban house like this, but the thought soon passed. He heard Janet, his wife, say: “I’m sure I heard Roger.”

“You did,” Roger said, going into a room furnished comfortably but just as it had been twenty-five years ago. “Hallo, darling.” As Janet got up and came towards him, tall and attractive, dark hair only just flecked with grey, he kissed her on the cheek. “Good evening, Lady Fellowes. I am desperately sorry about the attack on your son. There’s no worse news, I hope.”

Janet showed no surprise, so Lady Fellowes must have talked a little.

“Neither better nor worse about him,” Lady Fellowes replied.

“At least, that’s hopeful.”

“Perhaps,” she said. “Perhaps.” Richard was right, she was a stunning creature, with that grey hair sweeping down to her shoulders, and her great eyes with their silver grey; and her pallor. “Mr. West, I had to see you urgently. “

Janet, bless her, was already out of the room; she closed the door behind her. Roger, trying to reduce the tension which was undoubtedly here, went to the sideboard with its long mirror, and poured himself a whisky and soda; Lady Fellowes’s glass by the chair from which she had risen, was half-full.

“Why?” he asked quietly.

“Helen has been threatened,” came the answer, in a hard voice.

Roger held his glass halfway

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