A Branch for The Baron by John Creasey

Author:John Creasey [Creasey, John]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: House of Stratus
Published: 2015-07-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Talk of a Ghost

As Corry spoke, Ben Tozer came from a little group of men, presumably longshoremen or members of the crew. Several newspapermen still hovered around, obviously believing that they might get a better story if they waited. Ben stood patiently as if awaiting permission to speak, and Mannering said: “Yes, Ben?” while he noticed Rebecca Marden watching them from the side of a stack of barrels marked Chestnuts. The noise of the cranes seemed much louder, and more old timbers were being hoisted out of Number 5 hold and lowered with astonishing precision to their allotted space. Already, some were being loaded on to a long, open-backed truck.

“Hallo, Ben,” Mannering said.

“Mr. Corry’s been good enough to find accommodation for me,” Ben Tozer said, “and I appreciate it, Mr. Corry. Do you think there’ll be room for one more man in the same place?”

“I imagine so,” said Corry. “I’ll check, and advise you. It’s a rooming-house near Arlington Street,” he went on.

“For a night or two you may have to share the room with the other man.”

“I would have no objection to that,” said Tozer. He spoke even more slowly than Mannering remembered him doing at home, as if he wanted to make the distinction between himself and the Americans around him crystal clear. And his voice made many people glance round at him. “I brought one assistant over with me, Mr. Mannering, an old friend of my father. He knows more than I do about a job like this – in fact he knows almost as much as my father did.”

“Glad you brought him,” Mannering said.

“Do you think Mr. Kelleren will mind?”

“I don’t see why he should,” Mannering assured him. “You’ll get on with Kelleren, anyhow. When’s he coming here, Bob?”

“Tomorrow,” Corry answered. “He’s finishing a house in Concord today.” He glanced round, and saw Rebecca; Mannering noticed with amusement how often his gaze travelled to Rebecca. “Ben, you want to meet our Clerk of the Works?” Corry inquired, and beckoned Rebecca, who approached at once. “Miss Rebecca Marden—”

Ben breathed: “Marden?”

“That’s right,” said Bob Corry, briskly. “One of the almost forgotten branches of the family.”

Ben stared at the girl intently, almost rudely; and Mannering noticed how quickly she began to colour. It was as if Ben had seen something in the other’s face which astounded him, as if he were looking at a ghost. Then he thrust his hand out, jerkily.

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Marden.”

“I’m very glad to know you,” said Rebecca.

“Mr. Mannering,” a man called, and came strolling over, with a shorter tow-haired photographer behind him. All of the other newspapermen appeared to have gone. “Would you mind answering just one more question?”

“If I can,” said Mannering.

“If you can’t, maybe Mr. Tozer can,” said the newspaperman. He had little, merry eyes, a little button of a nose, a pursed, wrinkled mouth. “Does Marden Court have a ghost?”

Mannering hesitated only for a moment, before laughing and saying: “Did you ever hear of a house over a hundred years old that hadn’t?”

“Sure, plenty of them,” said the newspaperman.

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