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    Reward For The Baron: (Writing as Anthony Morton)
    Reward For The Baron: (Writing as Anthony Morton)
    Reward For The Baron: (Writing as Anthony Morton)
    Ebook209 pages2 hours

    Reward For The Baron: (Writing as Anthony Morton)

    By John Creasey

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    About this ebook

    A thief has ransacked every room in the Royal Hotel. Old friendships and connections are called upon and Superintendent Bristow of Scotland Yard is called in to investigate. He discovers John Mannering (aka ‘The Baron’) is a guest, along with his wife, Lorna. Valuable jewellery has been stolen and there is clearly an abiding suspicion – but then comes a mysterious call. A man has two diamonds to sell and also has a very surprising confession to make to Mannering …

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHouse of Stratus
    Release dateMay 1, 2015
    ISBN9780755137909
    Reward For The Baron: (Writing as Anthony Morton)
    Author

    John Creasey

    Master crime fiction writer John Creasey's near 600 titles have sold more than 80 million copies in over 25 languages under both his own name and ten other pseudonyms. His style varied with each identity and led to him being regarded as a literary phenomena. Amongst the many series written were 'Gideon of Scotland Yard', 'The Toff', 'The Baron', 'Dr. Palfrey' and 'Inspector West', as JJ Marric, Michael Halliday, Patrick Dawlish and others. During his lifetime Creasey enjoyed an ever increasing reputation both in the UK and overseas, especially the USA. This was further enhanced by constant revision of his works in order to assure the best possible be presented to his readers and also by many awards, not least of which was being honoured twice by the Mystery Writers of America, latterly as Grand Master. He also found time to found the Crime Writers Association and become heavily involved in British politics - standing for Parliament and founding a movement based on finding the best professionals in each sphere to run things. 'He leads a field in which Agatha Christie is also a runner.' - Sunday Times.

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      Book preview

      Reward For The Baron - John Creasey

      Chapter Two

      Lorna is Worried

      Well, said Mannering, lightly. You ordered the holiday and chose the place, the hotel, the—

      Darling, said Lorna. You are being a beast.

      Only a very little beast, said Mannering, and that in self-defence. The probability is, he added more soberly, that the local police won’t think of me in connection with jewels. We’ll probably be asked again whether we lost anything, and that’ll be the end of it.

      You don’t really think so, said Lorna.

      Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but it’s also sound reasoning. There’s no evidence that this was a specialist’s job.

      A small place like Larmouth wouldn’t want evidence, said Lorna stubbornly. All crime, however bungled, would be big news.

      Mannering took her hand. The odds are that Larmouth has never heard of the Baron.

      You may be right. Lorna forced a laugh. I’m sorry, John. I can’t help these fits of pessimism.

      "Well, let’s shake you out of this one! What about the Seaside Revels? or the Corner Theatre?"

      Lorna drew her hand away. "You hate saying a word about the Baron days, and I can’t help thinking and talking of them.

      There was a smile on Mannering’s lips, but his eyes were sober. He disliked these prophetic moods, more especially as they were surprisingly justified by future events.

      Lorna knew all there was to know about the Baron, knew that the Baron had ceased to work years ago yet she seemed to have some sixth sense which warned her of the danger which might strike, out from the past.

      Well, let’s discuss the burglary then, he said patiently. It appears to have been neatly done, but there will almost certainly be prints or some kind of clue, and the local police are probably hot on their man’s trail already. Even if there were anything exceptional about it, there’s no reason to think that I shall be suspected. No one in the hotel even knows that I’ve anything to do with jewels, and—

      Lorna shrugged. Is there time for a walk before dinner?

      That’s more like it, said Mannering.

      There was still a stiffish wind, and the sea was running high. The promenade and the side-turnings near the beach were covered with sand, seaweed and small pieces of wreckage.

      In the gathering dusk an old fisherman was sitting on an upturned tub, staring at a small boat with several boards staved in. There was such dismay and yet resignation on his face that Mannering paused to watch him, and at the same time Lorna said: Give me my pad, darling.

      Without a word he took a small drawing pad and pencil from his pocket, and handed them to her. In a few minutes the old man was there, on paper, his expression caught with a sure touch.

      That should be good, said Mannering, appreciatively.

      I wonder if he’ll sit for me.

      I shouldn’t ask him now, advised Mannering. We’ll be able to find him in the morning.

      Lorna’s mind filled with plans for a new portrait, they turned back to the hotel.

      Her depression forgotten, they stepped into the brightly-lit entrance hall – then Lorna caught her breath, and Mannering whistled softly.

      Bristow was talking to Lloyd, the manager, and to a man whom Mannering recognised as the local Inspector.

      Lorna tugged Mannering’s hand.

      No let’s face it, Mannering said.

      I hope you’re not going to question every guest, Lloyd was saying. And then there’s the staff.

      Only the night staff, said Bristow, soothingly. I’d better have a word with everyone, I think. Yes, I know it’s a big job, but I’ll be discreet.

      Lloyd glanced up, and Bristow followed his gaze as Mannering approached.

      Starting with me, Bill?

      Bristow did not even try to look surprised. Kay, looked on disapprovingly as the two men shook hands, decided coldly that it amounted to collusion between the police and a criminal.

      I hardly thought our little robbery would bring the big men down, said Mannering, lightly. There must be more in it than meets the eye.

      Bristow smiled. That is what I want to discover. It is possible that your practical observations might have spotted one or two little things unnoticed by the less astute. Can you spare me a few minutes?

      Of course.

      My office is at your disposal, said Lloyd, stiffly.

      Oh, my room will do, thanks, said Mannering.

      Kay had already taken the hint and was talking to one of his own men, as Mannering and Lorna accompanied Bristow to their room on the first floor. It was in partial darkness, and as Mannering switched on the light and stood aside for Lorna and Bristow to pass, he heard a faint sound, inside the room. His heart was beating a little faster as he followed the others in. A swift glance satisfied him that no one was there – until he noticed that the coverlet at the head of the bed hung unevenly. Another odd thing struck him. The curtains were drawn but the bed was not turned down; the chambermaid usually did both these things on the same visit.

      Neither Lorna nor Bristow appeared to notice anything amiss. Mannering waited for Bristow to start, with a certain anxiety. If he were stopped, he would wonder why; if he were allowed to go on, a man under the bed would hear.

      You seem to have chosen your hotel well, Bristow began.

      Mannering smiled. Yes, haven’t we. For the information of the police, we were together in the lounge until twelve o’clock, we came to bed, we slept, we woke up, the chambermaid told us the evil tidings. We lost nothing.

      Very pat, said Bristow, but—

      Do you think I’ll be allowed in the dining-room with slippers? Mannering asked, to Lorna’s surprise and Bristow’s bewilderment. Sorry, Bill, I stubbed my toe on a piece of granite. Slippers, slippers, half my kingdom for a pair of slippers. He bent down and looked under the bed.

      No one was there.

      Gone! Heaven preserve me from a zealous mind!

      They’re in the wardrobe, said Lorna. I’ll get them.

      You’re not used to finding me concerned about creature comforts, Bill, are you? murmured Mannering.

      I’m sorry you were so ill, Bristow said formally.

      And you wrote to me three times and sent me flowers, said Mannering. All kindly deeds, and I won’t forget them. He sat down on the edge of the bed and drew off his shoes, still puzzled by the movement he was sure he had noticed. No one under the bed nor, apparently, in the wardrobe. He smiled up at Bristow. Who’s suspect Number 1?

      We haven’t found him yet.

      Too bad! Why did they bring you down?

      One of the victims is a close friend of the Home Secretary.

      Say no more. All is explained. Well, if I can help, you’ve only to ask me.

      I may even hold you to that, said Bristow. Do you know of anyone among the guests, who is particularly interested in jewels?

      Every woman present, for a start, said Mannering, laughing. That reminds me, can you dine with us?

      Can’t offend the local chappy, otherwise I’d have loved to. There’s just one thing, John.

      Yes? said Mannering. He could not prevent his voice from hardening a little.

      Don’t try to investigate on your own, will you? said Bristow.

      Nothing was further from my thoughts. I’m an invalid, not a private detective.

      I just wanted to make sure, said Bristow. I’d better go downstairs now. Are you coming?

      I’ll be down in a few minutes, Mannering answered.

      He went with Bristow to the door, then returned to the room. He looked meaningly at Lorna, and put his finger to his lips, then hurried across the room and pulled open the tall-boy.

      His clothes were undisturbed.

      He went down on his hands and knees and peered under the bed again, but there was no sign of anyone. Only the wardrobe, which Lorna had opened, could possibly hide an intruder. As he looked at it his glance sharpened. Was it his imagination, or was the door moving?

      Lorna’s eyes followed the direction of his gaze. They stood rigidly, side by side, waiting, watching. Slowly, slowly the door opened and from the wardrobe stepped a man, smaller than average, thin, middle-aged. He was smiling.

      He turned to Lorna. Good-evening, Mrs Mannering. I do hope I have not alarmed you.

      He closed the wardrobe door gently behind him.

      Chapter Three

      Mr Diver Makes an Offer

      I do hope you are not going to stand on ceremony, the stranger, went on pleasantly. I have been at great pains to make this interview confidential.

      So it seems, Mannering’s voice was dry, and matter-of-fact. The question is, whether we want the interview. It’s past eight o’clock, and we’re hungry.

      I assure you I won’t keep you long.

      It could be a question of how long we shall detain you Mannering murmured gently. He looked at his wrist-watch. You can have five minutes in which to explain yourself. He pushed a chair forward for Lorna.

      Five minutes isn’t much, said the stranger, but perhaps I shall be able to persuade you to extend my allowance! He gave a little, characterless laugh.

      Mannering made no comment.

      "My name is Diver went on the little man. Saul Diver. He peered at Mannering as if hoping the name would strike a chord. I have worked for a great number of people, including, if I may say so, friends and business associates of yours. He gave his nervous giggle again. I know what a fine reputation you have, what a wonderful judge you are of precious stones."

      Lorna glanced quickly at Mannering, and then away.

      It is in that connection I have called on you, Mr Mannering. I have knowledge of two diamonds, beautiful, incomparable gems. I think you—er—might be interested. I wouldn’t bother you unless they were exceptional stones.

      I buy my stones through legitimate trade channels, said Mannering woodenly.

      But naturally! I understand that. I am authorised to act as selling agent only. The stones are legitimately for sale. I hope you won’t misunderstand my—er—somewhat unorthodox means of introduction!

      Mannering glanced at his watch again. It would be unreasonable to object to any reservations I might make on that score. And your five minutes is up, Mr Diver.

      Please! Diver raised a hand, appealingly. Do not be hasty, do not refuse to see these stones. They are of the fine quality. It is true that I don’t want the police to see me. He shrugged. Once I was in trouble, and though I’ve run straight for years, they never forget a face. After last night’s burglary what chance would I have? He shrugged again.

      Where are the two diamonds? Mannering asked.

      "Then you are interested!"

      I might be.

      I was sure you would be reasonable, said Diver. The diamonds are with their owner, Mr Montagu Dell. Have you met Mr Dell?

      No, said Mannering. He shot Lorna a startled glance.

      It did not go unobserved, but almost at once the little man went on smoothly: "He lives at Dacres – have you seen the house?"

      No.

      Dear me, said Diver. "You haven’t been about Larmouth very much, have you? Dacres is known as one of the finest houses near Larmouth. May I tell you Mr Montagu Dell you will call tonight?"

      No, said Mannering, for the third time.

      Diver’s face dropped.

      But—

      If Mr Dell cares to come here with the diamonds I’ll see him, said Mannering. He’ll be wise to telephone for an appointment, I haven’t much free time and I don’t expect to be here more than a few days. Had he replied to my letter, you would have been saved this rather unorthodox interview. Now, dinner! Which way did you come in?

      There are so many doors, said Diver, plaintively. Mr Mannering, can I ask you to reconsider? Mr Dell is an eccentric, he has been scared by the news of the burglary here last night. I feel sure he won’t leave his house with the diamonds. He’s too old and frail, for the physical effort. Won’t you change your mind?

      Why tonight? asked Mannering.

      He is so anxious to meet you, and time is precious to him, you understand. He counted on your sympathy to the point of putting a car at your disposal, Mr Mannering, a Daimler which will be outside at nine-thirty.

      Mannering laughed.

      I have, then, succeeded in my plea that you should change your mind? said Diver earnestly.

      Mannering said: You might have done, and that’s my last word for now. Going out by the door or the window?

      With a nod towards the door, Diver sidled towards it, and slipped out. The door closed without a sound.

      Mannering smoothed down his hair and looked, almost apologetically, at Lorna.

      We can’t complain that life’s dull now, he said.

      You won’t be such a fool as to go, urged Lorna.

      Mannering studied his finger nails. It would be interesting to find out whether there are two diamonds for sale or whether Mr Montagu Dell wants me for some other reason.

      I didn’t trust Diver, Lorna looked at him levelly. Her smile was kind, but a little sad. You’re in a mood when you’ll do anything for excitement, she said. The robbery lit the spark in you again. Bristow added to it and Diver put the final touch. She waited for him to deny it, and then, as the pause lengthened, gave a little sigh and took his arm. Let’s go down to dinner. We’ll talk about this afterwards.

      Most of the guests had already left the dining-room. A waiter led them to their table and offered advice as to food.

      Mannering and Loma settled their order, then talked brightly of a dozen things. As she finished her coffee, her bantering, pleasantly social voice changed.

      Well, she said. What are you going to do?

      See Bristow.

      About Diver?

      And Montagu Dell, said Mannering. Mysterious journeys about the countryside are too suggestive to be indulged without the approval of the police – in these circumstances. He took out a cigarette, deliberately prolonging the lighting of it. There is no reason why I shouldn’t lend a helping hand. Mr Diver and the burglary might not be connected, but on the other hand, they might. Approved?

      It sounds plausible, said Lorna. Too much so to be entirely trustworthy. How will you contact Bristow?

      I understand that he’s in the hotel at this moment, questioning the guests, said Mannering. "Though why he is going to such trouble is one of the questions I can’t answer – yet. He may have seen a name on the list that interests him, and work the long way round to allay

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