The Falcon's Malteser by Anthony Horowitz Read Free Book Online

broke in his hand.
    “And at last we come to you,” he said. “Hopeless, horrible Herbert Simple. You say Johnny Naples was your client. I want to know why. I want to know what he wanted. I want to know what he said. I want to know what you two are doing mixed up in all this and I want to know now!”
    He paused.
    Things were beginning to make some sort of sense. Not a lot of sense, mind you, but at least we knew what stakes we were playing for. Johnny Naples had come to London in search of five million dollars and he had left us a box of Maltesers. It wasn’t a lot to go on, but it was all we had. The trouble was, if we told Snape what Naples had given us, we’d lose that, too. The way I saw it was like this. A lot of people were interested in what had taken place in our office that Thursday morning. The Fat Man was one of them. And perhaps it had been Gott and Himmell who had ransacked the place that same night. Sooner or later they’d come gunning for us, and if worse came to worst, we’d have to give them the Maltesers. Which meant we had to keep them from Snape.
    And—okay—I’ll be honest. If we were really sitting on the key to a fortune, I wanted to be the one to turn it. There were plenty of things I could do with five million dollars. I figured I’d let Herbert keep the other half.
    “Come on,” Snape growled. “It’s your turn. What did Naples want?”
    There was another long silence. Boyle shuffled forward and I noticed that this time Snape made no move to stop him.
    “Naples came here looking for the money,” I said. “You were right there. But he was followed. He was afraid. That’s why he came to see us. He thought we’d be able to give him some sort of protection.”
    “Nick!” Herbert muttered.
    “He didn’t tell us anything more than that . . .”
    Boyle’s hand clamped down on the back of my neck. He half dragged me to my feet. Now I knew how a piece of scrap iron feels when it’s picked up by a mechanical grabber. I waited for him to crush me. “You’re lying,” he rasped.
    “Scout’s honor!” I pleaded.
    “You knew about the key,” Snape reminded me.
    “Only because Naples mentioned it. But we haven’t got it. You can search the office if you like.”
    “We already have,” Boyle said.
    “Then you’ll know that somebody tore it apart. Look—if we knew anything, why do you think we went to the Hotel Splendide? The place was searched and we got scared. We went to see Naples to ask him what was going on, but by the time we got there, he was dead. Honest!”
    For a moment the only sound in the room was a vague creaking as my neck splintered in Boyle’s grip. But then he must have gotten some sort of signal from Snape. He released me and I collapsed in my chair. My legs had turned to jelly. I could hardly move my head.
    “Okay, we’ll play it your way, son,” Snape said humor lessly. “We’ll let you go. But I don’t believe you and neither will the Fat Man or any of the other nasties waiting for you out there. It’ll be interesting to see which one of them gets to you first.”
    “And I suppose you’ll stand by and watch,” I muttered, rubbing my neck.
    “Don’t worry,” Snape said. “We’ll be around to pick up the pieces.”

GRANNIES
    It’s funny how the smell of police stations sticks on you long after you’ve gone. Snape was decent enough to get a police car to take us home and we carried the smell with us, down past the Albert Hall and through Earl’s Court. They say that good detectives have a “nose” for crime. They “sniff” out clues, and when things are going well, they’re on the right “scent.” After a couple of hours in the Ladbroke Grove interrogation room, I could see what they mean. The strong arm of the law could do with a strong underarm deodorant.
    We had a bath when we got in and changed into fresh clothes. Then Herbert suggested we should go out and get something to eat. I didn’t argue. He’d been very quiet since