Free Shadow The Baron by John Creasey

had been at Buckley Street, which explained the reason for their raid. The police had hoped to catch him red-handed.
    They’d rung up, at intervals, and knew what time he had been out.
    They would probably let him settle down; thinking that there would be no further scare tonight, and then they would call.
    To have all his wits about him he must stay awake. It would be foolish even to doze. He didn’t feel like smoking or reading; but gradually, too slowly to cause alarm, tiredness crept over him.
    He heard three o’clock strike.
    He couldn’t keep his eyes open.
    He went to sleep.

 
10:   News
    He heard voices, and one of them was a man’s.
    He woke on the instant, listening intently; a woman was talking. It was Hetty, and she was complaining and excusing herself at the same time. She couldn’t take upon herself to wake Mr. Mannering. She’d already been in with his tea and he hadn’t stirred, she might lose her job if she woke him. Actually she knew she wouldn’t lose it, which meant that she had a strong reason for not wanting him to be disturbed; or that was what he assumed. He pushed the bedclothes back. After the first shock of sudden waking, he felt clear headed. The bedside clock showed that it was a little after nine.
    As he climbed out of bed and put on his dressing gown, he heard the man say “Hetty, I must see him, I tell you.” He recognised the voice as Larraby’s.
    Mannering grinned and relaxed, and opened the door wide. They didn’t notice him when he stepped into the hall. Hetty, big and cumbersome, a country girl thoroughly enjoying a strict sense of duty, was barring Larraby’s path.
    “Hetty, you’re fired,” said Mannering.
    Hetty jumped and turned round, her mouth opening in astonishment.
    “Unless you make me some tea right away,” added Mannering.
    “Oh, I. will, sir. Mr. Larraby shouldn’t have disturbed you, I’m ever so sorry; I did try to make him keep his voice down.” She glared at Larraby with the self-righteousness of a conscientious servant who knew her worth, and was determined that others should know it also.
    “Come in, Josh,” Mannering said. “What’s up?”
    “Is everything all right, sir?”
    “Why shouldn’t it be?”
    “I was nervous,” said Larraby. His habitually serene expression was tinged with anxiety as he took a bundle of newspapers from under his arm. “You haven’t seen these, have you?” He held them out. “I felt that I had to come and tell you what might happen this morning.”
    Mannering didn’t glance at the papers.
    “All right, Josh – but first, what happened last night?”
    “I was there for over an hour, and then a man came up and let them out,” said Josh. “I couldn’t see him clearly, but it was a young chap. Well dressed, too. They talked for a bit, and then Smith went off in a taxi. The other two stayed at the garage. I was tempted to follow Smith, but even if I’d wanted to I hadn’t another cab. I kept away from Buckley Street – I hope that was right, Mr. Mannering.”
    “More right than you know,” said Mannering.
    He unfolded the top paper. The headline seemed to leap out at him:
     
    SHADOW STRIKES AGAIN
    £20,000 MAYFAIR HAUL
    The Shadow, notorious jewel thief, struck again in the early hours of the morning, and escaped with £20,000 worth of jewels from the Morley Square home of Sir James Leeson. The theft . . .
     
    “Are they all the same, Josh?”
    “Very much the same. But there is another thing, sir. I heard a rumour this morning that the police know who the Shadow is, and hope to make an arrest soon. I also heard that there had been a burglary at Buckley Street. I assumed that you went to Buckley Street again, and – Larraby broke off, and gave a little, hesitant smile. “I’m a little confused, but I was very anxious you should be informed about the rumour that the police have a line on the man at last.”
    “Very sensible of you,” Mannering said. “Have you had breakfast,