Fatal Venture by Freeman Wills Crofts Read Free Book Online Page A

Bristow. “Perhaps you could tell me that? It would help me at our meeting tomorrow.”
    “A hundred and twenty-five thousand,” Amberley returned promptly. “The option lasts for a month, but I was expecting a firm reply this week.”
    “You’ll have it,” Bristow assured him, “and unless I’m greatly mistaken you’ll have the money also. And I” – once again he smiled knowingly – “shall have something polite but pointed to say to my esteemed Chairman.”
    “As a brother secretary, I wish you luck with it,” Amberley said gloomily. “Then we shall see you again, Mr Bristow, if the deal goes through?”
    “You certainly will, Mr Amberley.”
    Morrison was seething with wrath and indignation against their fellow traveller in the Calais express. But when they reached the street he found that his feelings were lukewarm compared to Bristow’s. The solicitor’s manner remained quiet, but there was a look of cold, implacable hate in his eye that startled Morrison. With his pale face gone almost white, his lips in a thin line, the strong outline of his set jaw and that almost ferocious gleam in his eye, he looked capable of anything. Certainly at that moment Morrison would not have cared to cross him.
    “You were right, Morrison,” he said quietly, as they began to cross Trafalgar Square. “That swine must have heard the whole thing. It’s lucky you noticed his name.”
    Morrison was astonished at his coolness. “I thought you dealt with it magnificently,” he said with truth, “and without any preparation, too.”
    “It mayn’t be any use,” Bristow answered in a small, cold voice. “If Stott won’t act at once we’re sunk.”
    “What could he do? Malthus has an option, you see.”
    Bristow glanced round and his voice rose as if in spite of himself. “I don’t know what he could do, but if there’s any way of putting that dirty thief where he belongs, I’ll not rest until I find it.”
    “What had you in mind in the office? You must have had some scheme to talk like that?”
    “Only to gain time, I’m afraid. But I’ll see Stott at once. You’re stuck in your beastly office, I suppose?”
    Morrison shook his head regretfully. “I’m afraid so.”
    “Then I’ll ring him up and go down as soon as I can get my car.” With a curt nod, Bristow disappeared into a telephone booth.
    In spite of his interest, it was not till later that Morrison heard what took place.
    Having fixed up his interview, Bristow drove to “St Austell”. The day was showery and Stott received him in his library instead of under the great elm. He did not trouble with greetings, but got at once to business. “What’s all this?” he asked shortly. “A trick to hurry up the purchase?”
    “I wish it was,” Bristow returned. “No, I’m sorry to say it’s the genuine article. We’re going to be done, or I am, if you’re not coming in,” and he told his story.
    Upon Stott the tale had an electric effect. Whether or not he had already intended to buy, Bristow did not know, but if not, the hint of opposition brought him to a decision. “I’m damned if I’m going to sit down and be cheated by a blasted racing crook,” he exclaimed roughly. “You say we have a couple of days?”
    “I don’t know that, but I think it’s likely from what Amberley said.”
    “Time enough to put a spoke in this Malthus’ wheel, I fancy. Take a cigar and let me think.”
    For thirty-seven minutes by the electric clock on the mantelpiece they sat in silence, broken only on two occasions when Stott barked out short staccato questions. Then he leant forward, tapped Bristow on the arm and said: “See, with a bit of luck we’ll get him. You go back and have some paper printed with the proper heading – like this.” He took a sheet and wrote rapidly. “ ‘Home Waters Cruising Limited’, here across the top. Then in small letters here on the left side, ‘Directors’, Malthus’ name first with ‘Chairman’ after it,