An Affair For the Baron by John Creasey Page B

if he did he would be much the same. All he seems to care about is the packet of microfilm. What on earth can it be to make him behave like this?”
    â€œEthel,” Mannering said quietly. “ Is he a poor man?”
    â€œPoor as a church mouse.”
    â€œObviously this packet might be valuable.”
    â€œIf you’ve got any idea that Daddy might be mixed up in something involving money you can forget it,” Ethel said with utter conviction. “He might have some fantastic idea that he’s saving the world from damnation or destruction, but you can certainly rule out financial gain.”
    â€œUnless he needs the almighty dollar to save the world,” Mannering said dryly.
    He watched her expression, and thought, quite unexpectedly, that this possibility had entered her mind before and that she didn’t like it. She spun round towards the window and the shining lake, but Mannering had a feeling that she was no longer aware of the view, or the boats, or the traffic.
    â€œDo you think he will telephone?” he asked her.
    â€œI suppose he’s bound to,” Ethel said. “And I suppose all we can do is to wait. Unless—” she hesitated.
    â€œUnless what?”
    â€œYou decide to let me have the packet, and I call him again and tell him I’ve got it.”
    â€œNot on your life,” Mannering said with a chuckle. “Now that I’m involved, I’m going to stay involved. I want to know the reason, if any, for that coincidence.”
    â€œThen we’ll wait,” Ethel said.
    They waited. Five minutes passed, then ten, then half-an-hour. Ethel sat in one of the two easy chairs overlooking the lake, her eyes closed but her lashes fluttering enough to betray her wakefulness. Mannering took a letter out of his pocket and began to read; it was in fact a summary of the details of the robbery at the Mayfair home of Lord Fentham, and a close description, and history, of the Fentham diamonds. Only two pieces, a necklace and a bracelet, had been stolen.
    Mannering finished the letter, then glanced over some pencilled notes he had made; the most significant stressing the fact that the older Ballas, who lived here in Chicago, possessed a superb collection of some of the finest diamonds in the world. There was nothing at all surprising in any attempt to steal the Fentham jewels for him, but there was one mystery. The thief, or thieves, had stolen only two items of the Fentham collection, when the whole or a very much larger part of it could have been taken just as easily. Why had Enrico Ballas – if it had been he – stolen only the necklace and the bracelet?
    Mannering studied photographs of the two pieces. The gems were expertly graduated, the middle stones particularly fine specimens. Even in black and white they stirred him; to Mannering there was fascination in beautiful jewels.
    An hour slid by, and there was still no telephone call.
    â€œHe isn’t going to ring,” Ethel said. “He thinks he’s got more patience, and you’ll ring him. I—”
    She broke off abruptly, at a sharp tap at the door.
    Almost on the instant, the telephone bell rang.

Chapter Seven
    Visitor
    At Pennsylvania Station, Ethel had seen the bewildering speed with which Mannering could move, and now she had another demonstration. He seemed to sweep her to him with one arm and snatch up the telephone in the same movement. Into the telephone he said quite calmly: “Please call again later.” To her, he said: “Stay behind the door. Don’t move.” He replaced the receiver and thrust her to a position in which she would be hidden when the door opened. All this, before there was another tap, even sharper.
    â€œJust a minute!” Mannering flattened himself against the wall, opening the door while still standing on one side.
    A man spoke in a voice so sing-song and unfamiliar that English ears could barely understand it.
    â€œWaal,