Catch the Saint by Leslie Charteris

Author:Leslie Charteris [Charteris, Leslie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery & Detective, General, Fiction
ISBN: 9780385099363
Publisher: Crime Club
Published: 1975-01-15T09:12:04+00:00

That evening, Simon entertained Julie and Adrian Norcombe at one of London's quieter and more admirable restaurants. While sole and duck underwent awesome transformations from their natural state, in a kitchen far removed from the crystal and candlelight of the dining room, the Saint raised his first glass of Bollinger.

"Dearly beloved," he said, "we are gathered here not only to celebrate Adrian's freedom and the general triumph of justice, but also something a little more tangible. Let's drink to all three."

When they had sipped, Adrian put forward his own glass and said shyly, "Thank you."

He and his sister toasted the Saint. And Julie asked, "Tangible?"

Simon settled back in his chair, pulled a slip of tinted paper from his coat pocket, and placed it on the table in front of them. They studied its simple but eloquent words and numerals, and stared at him in astonishment.

"Ten thousand pounds?" Julie quoted hoarsely.

"For you to divide between you," Simon said.

"But why should you write us a check like that?" she objected.

"I wrote the check, but the money isn't from me," Simon told her. "When I told Lord Oldenshaw that the painting he'd given Pargit was a true and actual Rembrandt, and that we'd saved it from being hijacked, and that I could return it to him immediately, he was so anxious to get his hands on it that he could hardly wait to show his gratitude. Fifteen thousand pounds' worth. A small enough cut out of the half a million or more he'll get for the painting if he decides to sell it. Of course if the experts he's no doubt got swarming all over the painting tell him it isn't a genuine Rembrandt, the check he gave me won't be worth tuppence in the morning. It is genuine, isn't it, Adrian?"

He said it mainly to draw Adrian out. The young man had so far proved incapable of putting more than three words together consecutively.

"Oh, I'm certain it is. And Mr Pargit must have been sure it was or he wouldn't have gone to all that trouble."

Julie impulsively reached out and touched the Saint's hand.

"Simon, it was wonderful of you to do this."

Since Simon could only agree, he simply smiled and quietly appreciated the lingering warmth of her fingers. Adrian was obviously struggling to organise a new sentence.

"I ... I'm very grateful," he said. "Perhaps I could show it by doing a painting for you. Whom would you prefer?"

"Whom?" the Saint asked.

"Which artist?"

"Why, you, Adrian. You have money in the bank, now. You can afford to do your own work."

"I'm afraid my only talent is imitating," Adrian said resignedly. "Would you like a—an El Greco?"

"Something soothing," the Saint proposed. "Gainsborough."

Adrian beamed.

"Oh, good. I haven't tried Gainsborough."

"You've got a model in the family."

Julie rested her chin in her hand and looked pensively at the Saint.

"I wish I had a talent, so I could show my gratitude."

"I'm sure you'll think of something," Simon responded. "For a start you could keep me company when I go back to Dorset to pick up my car.

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