The Saint Closes the Case (The Saint Series) by Charteris Leslie

Author:Charteris, Leslie [Charteris, Leslie]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2014-03-17T16:00:00+00:00

11

HOW ROGER CONWAY TOLD THE TRUTH, AND INSPECTOR TEAL BELIEVED A LIE

Inspector Teal set Hermann down in the sitting-room, and adroitly snapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists. Then he turned his slumbrous eyes on Roger.

“Hullo, Unconscious!” he sighed.

“Not quite,” retorted Roger shortly. “But darn near it. I got a good crack on the head giving you that shout.”

Teal shook his head. He was perpetually tired, and even that slight movement seemed to cost him a gargantuan effort.

“Not me,” he said heavily. “My name isn’t Norman. What are you doing there?”

“Pretending to he a sea-lion,” said Roger sarcastically. “It’s a jolly game. Wouldn’t you like to join in? Hermann will throw us the fish to catch in our mouths.”

Mr Teal sighed again, slumbrously.

“What’s your name?” he demanded.

Roger did not answer for a few seconds.

In that time he had to make a decision that might alter the course of the Saint’s whole life, and Roger’s own with it—if not the course of all European history. It was a tough decision to take.

Should he give his name as Simon Templar? That was the desperate question that leapt into his head immediately…It so happened that he never carried much in his pockets, and so far as he could remember there was nothing in his wallet that would give him away when he was searched. The fraud would certainly be discovered before very long, but he might be able to bluff it out for twenty-four hours. And in all that time the Saint would be free—free to save Pat, return to Maidenhead, deal with Vargan, complete the mission to which he had pledged himself.

To the possible, and even probable, consequences to himself of such a course, Roger never gave a thought. The sacrifice would be a small one compared with what it might achieve.

“I am Simon Templar,” said Roger. “I believe you’re looking for me.”

Hermann’s eyes widened.

“It is a lie!” he burst out. “He is not Templar!”

Teal turned his somnambulistic gaze upon the man.

“Who asked you to speak?” he demanded.

“Don’t take any notice of him,” said Roger. “He doesn’t know anything about it. I’m Templar, all right. And I’ll go quietly.”

“But he is not Templar!” persisted Hermann excitedly. “Templar has been gone an hour! That man…”

“You shut your disgusting mouth!” snarled Roger. “And if you don’t, I’ll shut it for you. You…”

Teal blinked.

“Somebody’s telling a naughty fib,” he remarked sapiently. “Now will you both shut up a minute?”

He locomoted fatly across the room, and stooped over Roger. But he based his decision on the tailor’s tab inside Roger’s coat pocket, and Roger had not thought of that.

“I’m afraid you’re the story-teller, whoever you are,” he sighed.

“That’s my real name,” said Roger bitterly. “Conway—Roger Conway.”

“It sounds more likely.”

“Though what that fatherless streak of misery…”

“A squeal,” explained Teal patiently. “A time-honoured device among crooks to get off lightly themselves by helping the police to jump more heavily on their pals. I suppose he is your pal?” added the detective sardonically. “You seem to know each other’s names.

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