Charteris, Leslie by The Saint & the Hapsburg Necklace

Author:The Saint & the Hapsburg Necklace
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-09-30T22:32:59.844000+00:00

Saint went for a climb

"You would have done what?" exploded Leopold.

"Escorted them out," Simon repeated. "Very politely. If they'd offered me a tip, I'd have taken it."

Frankie's incredulity was no less violent.

"You can't mean it, Simon!"

"I do, you know. They were very naughty boys, and they I still had guns. I believe one should never get killed unless one has to—and then only as a last resort."

"But-but-but. . . they took the Necklace!"

"Ah yes, so they did," Simon agreed smoothly. "Well, perhaps it won't do them as much good as they think."

Frankie was taken aback.

"What do you mean?"

"Yes," Leopold said harshly. "Now they've got it, our whole cause is lost."

"You never know," Simon replied inscrutably. "The strangest things do happen, as the hen said when she hatched out an ostrich."

Frankie stamped her foot.

"Always you make a joke. Nothing is important to you. But that doesn't mean it

isn't important to someone else. What about me? Is it nothing to you that I have

betrayed my charge as Keeper of the Hapsburg Necklace?"

"To tell the truth, in words of one syllable," responded the Saint amiably—"No."

"You are impossible."

"Worse," Leopold amplified. "He is a coward."

The Saint was unmoved.

"That's right. I am. Only mugs get medals. Sensible men take good care to live to fight another day."

"Your reputation as a hero seems to have been easily earned," said Leopold sarcastically.

Still the Saint was not ruffled.

"Reputations don't matter. It is what a man knows about himself that counts."

"And does it mean nothing to you that Anton is dead?"

The Saint's eyes were expressionless although he smiled.

"I expect it means more to him. Presumably he was mixed up in this business of

his own free will. I mean, he didn't have to work for Max, and he must have known

that Max likes to live dangerously—and that goes for his associates, including me!"

Frankie shook her head.

"Sometimes I think you are just a machine."

The Saint shrugged.

"It's not such a bad thing to be if the machine is good enough. I'd like to be

Rolls Phantom III Continental Touring Saloon with a V12 cylinder engine, 7,340 cc

capacity. But right now I'd settle for almost anything on wheels in good running

order."

"Simon, will you please stop! I'm not interested in your silly cars. I want to get my Necklace back."

The Saint moved towards the door.

"All right then, but aren't you a bit tired of hiking? It's a long way to walk."

"Where?" asked Leopold in perplexity.

"Back to Schloss Duppelstein."

"But if the Gestapo know about this place," Frankie argued, "Max must have been arrested, and—"

The Saint's voice was suddenly steely. "Look here, sweetheart, let's get something straight. You asked for my help. You got it—for better or for worse—until death do,

etcetera. I'll get your Necklace back, but you must trust me."

"You did not try to stop them taking it," Leopold insisted.

"True," agreed the Saint. "But one of us might have been killed in the attempt, probably Frankie as she was the nearest. Look what happened to Anton. That reminds

me. I suppose we'll have to notify the police eventually, so we'd better leave

everything here just as it is.

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