Salute the Toff by John Creasey Read Free Book Online

the full horrors of the chopping-block stage were welcomed at the gymnasium. Bert, who owned the gym as well as the inn, was an ex-middleweight county champion, an honest-to-God East Ender who was something of a fairy godfather to the aged and infirm and the unlucky of the boxing game.
    Thereafter the acquaintance had ripened into friendship, for Bert had discovered that the Toff had no particular dislike of smallpart crooks, knowing they were simple folk and honest according to their lights. Moreover, anything or anyone whom the Toff saw at Bert’s was safe from the police as far as he was concerned.
    And then, one day when the Toff had been in need, Bert had sent two or three of his clients on a punitive expedition at the Toff’s behest, and thereafter they had a working arrangement.
    Bert answered the telephone.
    â€œBert’s gym,” he said, and hiccoughed.
    â€œI thought it might be,” said the Toff, and instantly Bert said how glad he was to hear from Mr. Ar, how was he? why hadn’t he been over lately, and what was he up to now?
    â€œI’m not too sure about that last,” said the Toff, “but I could find a job for two or three of the boys, Bert.”
    â€œName yer men,” said Bert simply.
    â€œI’ll leave that to you,” said the Toff. “But get them off quickly, and have them watch Dring Mansions in Park Lane. There’s a couple named Lorne living in Flat 81. A small red-haired woman and a big blond bloke not unlike a Swede to look at. I’d like to know where they go, and when.”
    â€œLeave it ter me,” said Bert.
    â€œGood man,” said the Toff. “I’ll call or phone in a day or two, but don’t be surprised if I’m longer.”
    â€œYou,” said Bert, with something that sounded like a hoarse chuckle, “won’t never surprise me, Mr. Ar. Nuthink you does ever surprises me.” He chuckled again, and the Toff said goodbye, to turn and find Ted Harrison staring at him.
    â€œI suppose I’ll get used to you,” the Toff said, “but whenever I’m at the telephone you give me the impression that you’re staring in a mood of complete hero-worship. It’s embarrassing.”
    â€œHero-worship!” exclaimed Harrison. “I’ll have you know that I think most of this is nonsense!”
    â€œAs you told Fay,” said the Toff gently.
    Harrison grinned, and went off at a tangent.
    â€œI’ve packed a few things for you, and if we’re going to catch that train we ought to hurry. I’ll ask questions on the train.”
    â€œThanks very much,” said the Toff humbly.
    After leaving a note on the table, lest his man Jolly should return first, they left the flat and went by taxi to Euston. Again the Toff went to considerable trouble to find whether they were being followed, but they reached the station without any indications that they were, and found their carriage with its two berths.
    â€œNight trains are never cheerful,” said the Toff, “and if you continue to scowl like that this will be a record bad journey. What’s on your mind?”
    Harrison continued to look worried.
    â€œDraycott, of course. I can’t make head or tail of the business, and I’m wondering if we’ll find him up there.”
    â€œOddly enough,” said the Toff. “I’m wondering exactly the same thing.”
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Chapter Seven
Night Journey
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    When they were on the way, and before they had changed for the sleeping-berths, Harrison demanded to know why the Toff was interested in the tenants at Dring Mansions. The Toff told him a little, although he did not mention that he had seen the red-haired Myra at Grey Street.
    â€œIf I’d been you,” Harrison said, “I’d have had the police on them like a shot.”
    â€œAnd confused the trails and probably given yourself a lot of trouble.”
    â€œI don’t see