Saint and the Templar Treasure by Leslie Charteris, Charles King, Graham Weaver Read Free Book Online Page A

leap stark naked from bathroom windows and jump on other men, however laudable their motives. There was also the equally practical consideration that they might well have gone away before he could reach them.
    The men were climbing into their car when a third figure ran from the tower and pressed a package into the hands of the smaller of the other two. The combination of angle and distance prevented the Saint from getting anything more than a fleeting glimpse of the newcomer before he turned back and was again hidden by the tower.
    The Citroen turned and accelerated away down the track. Simon did not waste time following its route but instead focused his attention on the tower. For several minutes he maintained his vigil but the third man did not re-appear. The Saint was disappointed but realised that his view of anyone leaving the tower by an outside door would have been screened by the walls.
    When it was obvious that he was not likely to see any more, he lowered himself into the no longer scalding water and pondered every detail of what he had witnessed. There was a deduction to be made, but it only added to his collection of question marks.
    The major-domo returned, and came as far as the bathroom door.
    “I have brought your valise, m’sieu. Do you wish me to unpack it?”
    “Non, merci,” Simon said. “I’d prefer to find what I want.”
    “If you ring the bell when you are ready, m’sieu, I will come and show you to the principal salon.”
    “Thank you.”
    “A votre service.”
    Service was a fine thing, Simon reflected, but he could soon have too much of it.
    When he had completed his ablutions and dried himself, he returned to the bedroom and found his suitcase on a stool beside the bed. As he bent to unlock it he could not help looking out of the window at the panorama now suffused with the rosy tints of approaching sunset into which the Citroen had disappeared, and remembering how the third man had returned towards the tower and not been sighted again.
    The inescapable conclusion was that he had come into the chateau. And was probably still inside. And very possibly had been all along.
    An illuminating corollary was that there had been no attempt to hide the Citroen even though it could have been seen by anybody looking out of a window on the second or third storey. Which suggested that the accomplice was in a position to account for his actions if challenged, or that he knew the whereabouts of everyone else in the house.
    “But how corny it would be,” Simon told his reflection in the mirror as he combed his hair, “to have the faithful old butler be the villain… .”
    To replace the garments which had suffered the dishevelment of his salvage efforts, he selected an extravagantly patterned shirt from Nassau, a pair of light blue slacks, and a featherweight jacket. The combination restored the image of a disarm-ingly relaxed vacationing tourist which, in essence, was exactly what he was.
    He ignored the bell-pull that would have summoned the major-domo to show him to the drawing-room and quietly turned the door handle and slipped out into the deserted corridor. His action might be frowned upon by his hostess and would certainly scandalise the worthy Charles, but he had had enough of being shepherded for a while, and he felt like doing a little exploring on his own. He reasoned that if he was found anywhere he should not be, he had the perfect excuse of being lost in a strange house—which, he mused as he remembered the maze of passages, he probably would be.
    He was able to retrace the route the servant had taken until he arrived at the right-angled turn-off of a narrow corridor which seemed to connect the east wing with the main body of the chateau. He had a feeling that if there was anything to be discovered during his wandering it would be in the older section of the house.
    Inside the main building, the corridor abruptly became a much wider passage, lighted by a tall window at the far end. From