Free The Toff and the Kidnapped Child by John Creasey

the time. I tell you that there’s no one I can think of who might help, except possibly people at Colfax’s, and I’m not even sure about them.”
    â€œDo you know this Leah’s surname?”
    Eve cried: “Don’t keep on about Leah!”
    â€œEve—”’
    â€œTalk, talk, talk, that’s all I hear, that’s all that ever happens. I just can’t stand it, I simply can’t stand it!”
    Rollison said: “I know, Eve.” He drove for a few minutes, saw a lay-by sign, and pulled off the road. Eve was crying. He did not speak or touch her, and after a while she quietened. He heard her moving, saw that she was pushing her fingers through her hair. There was just the light of the dashboard to show her face when she looked at him.
    â€œI’m sorry.”
    â€œI don’t know how you kept up so long.”
    â€œIt’s not fair to start shouting at you.” She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “You must have some reason for keeping on about Leah.”
    â€œShe’s the only person I’ve heard about who hated Ralph and might want to harm and to injure him, the only one with a possible motive. Is there anything at all you can tell me about her?”
    Eve said slowly: “I don’t know.” He didn’t ask her to explain the cryptic comment, and after a while she went on: “She once left a telephone number for him to call her back. It seemed to burn itself into my mind then, but I can’t think of it now. It was Kensington 33412 or 44312 – a number something like that. I’m sure there was a 3 and a 4 and a 1 in it, I’m sure it was Kensington. I wrote it down on a scrap of paper, and afterwards when I realised who it was, I threw it away.”
    Rollison said: “We can dial all likely permutations of 4, 3, 2, and 1, and we may strike lucky.”
    â€œIt’s such a slight chance. I didn’t expect you to clutch at straws.”
    â€œYou’d be surprised how many bricks a little straw will make,” Rollison said mildly. He touched his pocket, and the ransom note, which he had not shown to anyone else. He would have taken it out then, but he did not want to add to Eve’s tension. He started off again, and as dawn was breaking, reached the outskirts of London. The city seemed to stir itself from the stillness of the night.
    At a little after half-past five he pulled up outside 22 Gresham Terrace, helped Eve out into the grey morning, and went upstairs. He opened the door and tiptoed in quietly, not wanting to disturb Jolly. He switched on the light, and it showed Eve looking washed-out and red-eyed; she would hate to think that he had seen her looking like this. He took her to the spare bedroom, said: “I keep this ready for out-of-town relations. You’ll find everything you need, and the bathroom’s next door. I’ll bring in some tea and biscuits in ten minutes.” He went back to the big room and stood looking at the Trophy Wall and the hangman’s noose which was the most macabre of the exhibits. Then he took out the ransom note. It was in pencilled block lettering, and he already knew it off by heart.
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    â€œ GET £20,000 READY IN CASH. THEY MUST BE OLD NOTES. ”
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    Was this simply a case of ransom?
    How rich was Eve? Could she find such a huge sum? Would anyone make a demand unless they felt sure that she could? He picked up a magnifying glass, once used to catch the sun’s rays to start a fire which had burned down a barn with two people in it, and went over the note for prints: there was none. Gloved hands had held this, the envelope, and the other card which he had in his pocket. A clever amateur would think of it; and a professional would not be careless enough to make a present of his prints to the police.
    He turned round – and saw an envelope addressed to him in Jolly’s clear handwriting, which as yet showed little trace of