The Saint and the Happy Highwayman by Leslie Charteris

Author:Leslie Charteris [Charteris, Leslie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hodder
Published: 1969-06-15T07:00:00+00:00

* * *

“It’s a Bet,” says Society Hostess

* * *

new- YORK, October 12.— Simon Templar, better known as “The Saint,” famous 20th-century Robin Hood, added yesterday to his long list of audacities by announcing that he had promised to steal for charity the $100,000 necklace of Countess Jannowicz, the well-known society leader.

But for once the police have not been asked to prevent the intended crime. Templar called on the countess personally last Tuesday to discuss his scheme, and was told that she would be the first to congratulate him if he could get away with it.

The twist in the plot is that Countess Jannowicz is herself an indefatigable worker for charity, and the organizer of countless social functions through which thousands of dollars are annually collected for various hospitals and humane societies.

Those who remember the countess’ many triumphs in roping in celebrities as a bait for her charities believe that she has surpassed herself with her latest “catch.” It was whispered that the sensational stunt launching of some new

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The countess read it all through, and then she put her head back on the pillows and thought about it some more and began to shake with laughter. The vibration made her feel as if the top of her head was coming off but she couldn’t stop it. She was still quivering among her curlers when the telephone exoloded again.

“It’s someone from Police Headquarters,” reported her maid. “Inspector Fernack.”

“What the hell does he want?” demanded the countess.

She took over the instrument.

“Yes,” she squawked.

“This is Inspector Fernack of Centre Street,” clacked the diaphragm. “I suppose you’ve seen that story about the Saint and yourself in the papers?”

“Oh yes,” said the countess sweetly. “I was just reading it. Isn’t it simply delightful?”

“That isn’t for me to say,” answered the detective in a laboured voice. “But if this is a serious threat we shall have to take steps to protect your property.”

“Take steps–-Oh, but I don’t want to make it too easy for him. He always seems to get away with everything when the police are looking out for him.”

There was a strangled pause at the other end of the wire. Then:

“You mean that this is really only a publicity stunt?”

“Now, now,” said the countess coyly. “That would be telling, wouldn’t it? Good-bye, Inspector.”

She handed the telephone back to her maid.

“If that damn flatfoot calls again, tell him I’m out,” she said. “Get me some more aspirin and turn on my bath.”

It was typical of her that she dismissed Fernack’s offer without a moment’s uneasiness. After she had bathed and swallowed some coffee, however, she did summon the sallow and perspiring Mr Ullbaum who lived a feverish life as her press agent and vaguely general manager.

“There’ll be some reporters calling for interviews,” she said. “Some of ‘em have been on the phone already. Tell ‘em anything that comes into your head, but keep it funny.”

Mr Ullbaum spluttered, which was a habit of his when agitated, which was most of the time.

“But what’s

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