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

souvenirs, little things he treasured. Behind it there should have been two etchings in black frames; they had been taken down.
    â€˜All in half an hour!’ he said inaudibly. ‘All right, my fine gentleman.’
    Then he heard a movement.
    It came from the lounge, a shuffling sound which puzzled and yet made him act swiftly. He pushed the door wider open and covered the room with his gun, saying sharply: ‘That’s enough!’
    Then he peered at what seemed an empty room, chaotic with upturned chairs and emptied drawers and bureaux. Even the long wall opposite his desk, usually filled with souvenirs of cases in which he had been concerned, was stripped; an assortment of curios was piled on the floor. But despite the movement he saw no one and there was no other door in the lounge.
    The heavy curtains at the windows were drawn.
    Rollison drew a deep breath and stepped farther forward, feeling slightly foolish. As he moved he saw someone behind a chair, someone who appeared to be kneeling. He moved closer to the chair swiftly, to avoid any shot which might be fired from behind it and said again: ‘That’s enough. Come out.’
    Peering over the top of the chair, when there was no response except another faint shuffling movement, he saw a girl. He judged that from the long hair; she was kneeling, or in a similar posture, and he could not see her face. As she made no attempt to look up or to move, Rollison put caution aside and rounded the chair, worried then more than puzzled.
    The girl was not kneeling; she was crouching against the open back of the chair and one hand was clutching a spring. Her head lolled forward and about her neck was tied a white scarf. Rollison exclaimed, bent down and raised her to a more comfortable position; relief followed that for the scarf had been used to gag, not strangle, her and her eyes were wide open. She had dark hair, waved slightly and dressed as a page-boy bob; her eyes were enormous, fringed with long dark lashes.
    Her feet were tied together and there was a piece of cord about her right wrist; obviously she had freed her wrists and been trying to stand up.
    Rollison lifted her to an easy chair and rested her in it. He did not spend time in unfastening the gag or the bonds at her ankles but said quickly: ‘I’ll be back in two minutes.’
    He left the lounge, went into the kitchen and unlocked the back door, whispering: ‘Has anything happened there, Jolly?’
    â€˜No, sir,’ said Jolly softly.
    â€˜All right, come in. We’ve had our birds but they’ve flown, I think.’ He hurried into the living rooms again, switching on the lights of all of them. Three bedrooms were in the same chaotic state as the lounge and the dining room was in no better state. The wardrobes were empty and, after satisfying himself that no one lurked in any corner, Rollison went back to the lounge.
    There Jolly had put a couch on its legs and rested the girl on it full-length; he was unfastening her ankles and the gag was removed. The girl was working her mouth to and fro and there were red marks at the corners where the gag had been drawn tightly.
    â€˜I’ll get you some water,’ he said quickly.
    â€˜I have a kettle on, sir, for tea,’ said Jolly. ‘I’ll go and make it.’
    He finished his work on the bonds at the girl’s ankles then left the Toff with her. She was lying with her head on a cushion, staring up at him but not trying to speak. Instead she rubbed the corners of her mouth gingerly with her right hand; about the wrist, beneath the loose cuff of her black silk dress, the flesh was red and puffy except for a white ridge where the cord had been tied.
    â€˜I’ll do that,’ said Rollison and smiled down at her.
    As he massaged her lips he appraised her more thoroughly. Her dress and shoes were of good quality and good taste; she wore a single string of pearls and, although it was impossible to be sure