Free An Apostle of Gloom by John Creasey Page B

had been almost unbearable. It had been broken only by a telephone call from Pep Morgan, who had reported his encounter with Tiny Martin and told Mark that he had gone to the Yard and been questioned. He had been asked whether he had been at Bell Street earlier in the day, as well as to the reason why he had gone that night. Pep, it proved, had answered on similar lines to Roger and had been released with a sombre warning from Abbott to ‘be careful’. Pep, said Mark, had seemed quite cheerful and eager to know when he was to start work. Mark had promised to call him in the morning.
    They went to bed just after one o’clock, and surprisingly, Roger went to sleep quickly, but Janet lay awake a long while, listening to his heavy breathing and to Mark snoring in the spare room.
    Mark was up first and disturbed the others by whistling in his bath. They breakfasted soon after eight o’clock and, just after nine, Mark left for the East End. Roger was tempted to go with Janet to the Mid-Union Bank, but thought it wiser to wait at Chelsea. She left soon after ten o’clock, met Cornish at Piccadilly and received the paying-in book from him and, at the small branch of the provincial bank, made out a credit entry for fifty pounds, in cash, which Roger had taken out of his safe.
    Cornish was nowhere in sight when she paid it in.
    In spite of all the circumstances and her knowledge that she had never been inside the bank before, she felt on edge. The cashier was a middle-aged man with beetling brows; there was something sinister about him, about the tapping of a typewriter behind a partition and the cold austerity of the little bank itself. The cashier peered at her over the tops of steel-rimmed spectacles, counted the notes carefully, stamped the book and handed it back to her.
    â€œGood-morning, madam,” he said.
    â€œGood-morning, “gasped Janet, and hurried out, feeling stifled.
    She did not see Cornish immediately, but one of the Yard sergeants was near at hand. She went, by arrangement, to the Regent Palace Hotel and, finding a vacant seat in the public lounge, waited on tenterhooks. After twenty minutes Cornish came hurrying in, smiling cheerfully. Her spirits rose.
    â€œHallo, Mrs. West!” Cornish reached her, his smile widening. “You’ll be glad to hear that he has never seen you before!”
    Janet drew a deep breath.
    â€œThank heavens for that!” she exclaimed, sitting back and beaming into Cornish’s eyes. “I was half afraid that—” she broke off and forced a laugh. “But I mustn’t be absurd!”
    â€œI’ve telephoned the Yard, so that’s all right,” Cornish said. “You’ll have some coffee, won’t you?”
    â€œEr—oh, thank you,” Janet said, “but I must let Roger know. I’ll phone from here, and come back.”
    She hurried off; tall, well-dressed and graceful, she attracted the gaze of several men. Roger answered the call promptly and she knew from his sharp ‘hallo’ that he was equally anxious. She wasted no time.
    â€œWell, that’s item one!” he said, fervently. “Chatworth ought to start feeling ashamed of himself! I was half afraid the cashier—”
    â€œSo was I,” said Janet. “I suppose we’ll imagine significant happenings everywhere until it’s over. I mustn’t stop, darling, Cornish is being very sweet and he’s getting some coffee.”
    â€œRemind him to find that cabby’s address, will you?” Roger asked. “Good-bye, my sweet!”
    Smiling, he stepped from the telephone to the window and looked out. One of Abbott’s men was still on duty there – they did not intend to take chances. He felt like laughing at them, much happier now that he had a chance to fight back. Once the initial suspicion was gone, the whole organisation of the Yard would support him.
    He hummed to himself as he lit a cigarette and