Toff and the Lady by John Creasey

Author:John Creasey [Creasey, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Amnesia, Toff (Fictitious Character), Female Offenders
ISBN: 9781904612025
Publisher: Tethered Camel Ltd
Published: 1970-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

EAST END

ROLLISON agreed that it did appear to tie up very nicely, said good-bye, replaced the receiver, and stared blankly into Jolly’s face. After a while he gave the gist of the conversation, whereupon Jolly’s hopefulness faded and was replaced by his habitual expression of gloom.

“The only bright spot,” said Rollison, “is that he doesn’t propose to make an arrest, yet.”

“Could he arrest the lady, sir?”

“He could detain her for questioning,” said Rollison. “The truth is that he thinks he can get her whenever he wants, and prefers to have an unanswerable case before doing so. He’ll probably get some kind of story from Marcus Shayle. So, Jolly, more cause for gloom! Deep gloom, because Grice has done practically everything we hoped we would be able to do ourselves—my mind hasn’t been working lately, or we would have got this information first.”

“Perhaps so, sir,” said Jolly, unconvinced. “What do you propose to do?”

“We are going to prove him wrong,” said Rollison. “The little man with the knife and the footman at Barrington House are two people on whom we can check, and Grice gave me some consolation; he’s not very hopeful about East End contacts. I’ll go there in the morning.”

“What about the—ah—countess, sir?”

“You have not failed to notice,” said Rollison, “that at our suggestion a policewoman is acting as her bodyguard. So the police are responsible for her. I’m not at all sure that Grice isn’t holding his hand because of that. If anyone tries to get in touch with her, he’ll learn at once. If she tried to slip away, the maid would stop her. On the other hand,” Rollison went on, stifling a yawn, “there has been no crime in England of which she could have been guilty—as far as we know.”

“That is so,” said Jolly. “Is there anything more, sir?” Rollison shook his head. “What time shall I call you in the morning?”

“Nine o’clock should be about right,” said Rollison.

He was still asleep when Jolly came in next morning, with the ornate silver tray, the post and the newspapers. It was half-past nine.

“The newspapers are not very informative this morning, and there is no report of Miss Barrington-Ley’s accident,” Jolly said.

“Pleasure for Pomeroy,” said Rollison.

He looked through the post; there was nothing of particular interest, and he put it aside. Then he looked through The Times financial pages, and frowned when he saw the closing prices. Many of the companies in which Barrington-Ley had an interest were showing a fall.

As he looked over the headlines of The Record, he wondered why that enterprising newspaper had not followed up the story of the Lady of Lost Memory. Then he saw a single column headline which Jolly had missed. It read:

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