Accuse the Toff by John Creasey Read Free Book Online Page A

with a touch of irritation, ‘I may like an automaton to work for me but I don’t like one following me about. Be human. Five yards,’ he added and started off again with an echo of ‘Very good, sir,’ from his man. He smiled wryly at his own touchiness then drew near to the gates of Scotland Yard.
    He took off his glove from his right hand and gripped his service revolver inside his greatcoat pocket, keeping his left hand about his torch, still switched off. He reached the gates and grew aware of two dark figures, standing side by side, both wearing steel helmets and blocking his path.
    The policemen on duty, of course.
    A rustle of movement ahead of him preceded a respectful inquiry: ‘Who is that, please?’
    â€˜Colonel Rollison,’ said Rollison and shone his torch fully into the man’s face. The other went back a yard, blinking and surprised, but Rollison recognised the features of a constable whom he had often seen before; the other man was also familiar.
    â€˜And a friend,’ put in Rollison hastily, to explain Jolly, who had hurried up at the hint of a disturbance. He apologised for his clumsiness with the torch and with Jolly passed between the iron gates. The dark and empty courtyard yawned before him and he said bewilderedly: ‘Can anything happen here? Or …’ He paused and then exclaimed: ‘No, confound it! They wanted us out of the flat! I’ve been too clever. Come on!’
    For the first time since leaving Gresham Terrace he hurried, surprising the constables and escaping collision with them only by a hair’s breadth. The glowing silhouette of the word ‘taxi’ in front of a vehicle passing by made him call out and the cab drew into the kerb.
    â€˜22G, Gresham Terrace,’ said the Toff hurriedly and bundled Jolly in.
    He wasted no time in saying what he thought of himself and they sat in silence for ten minutes until they reached the flat in the increasing light of dawn. Rollison jumped out before it stopped moving and hurried into the house and up the stairs, convinced this time that he would make discoveries of importance. The sight of a crack of light beneath the door confirmed this and made him stop abruptly.
    Jolly joined him, sedately.
    â€˜We’ve visitors,’ whispered the Toff. ‘Go to the back door. I’ll give you three minutes. Then wait unless I shout for you.’
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Chapter Five
Lady Forlorn
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    The illuminated dial of his wrist-watch told Rollison when the three minutes had passed. For that time he had waited without making any movement, his ears strained to catch sounds inside the flat. Whoever was there was as careful as he for there was no sound. Once he saw a faint shadow darken the sliver of light but it disappeared quickly. It confirmed that someone was inside and quickened his pulse.
    On the tick of three minutes he inserted his key in the lock. It made a faint scratching sound but not one likely to be audible inside. Cautiously he opened the door, as cautiously pushed it wider.
    No sound came through.
    He stepped over the threshold with his gun in his right hand. His eyes narrowed against the light coming from the lounge which he also used as a study. The small foyer, itself furnished as a lounge where Jolly kept casual callers, was in perfect order except that the drawers of a small bureau were half-open; they had been closed when he had left.
    Soft-footed, he crept towards the lounge proper.
    The absence of sound was uncanny, unless it meant that he had been heard and the uninvited guest was waiting to strike. Rollison drew near enough to see inside the room then stopped and glared at four easy chairs, their short legs poking towards the ceiling, the light gleaming on the castors. The webbing beneath each chair had been ripped open and the springs revealed in all their nakedness. Against one wall he saw his desk, littered with its contents; the floor was strewn with papers and