Free Here Comes the Toff by John Creasey Page A

kill at the end of a show—not that way, anyhow. We’ve got them worried, which means they’ll get active. We’re to be prepared for all emergencies, Jolly, until Kohn and Irma are no longer worrying us.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œAnd now,” said the Toff, “there is the matter of Renway. I have telephoned him, and he’s coming to see me. I told Irma about that, and she wasn’t pleased.”
    â€œDare I ask why you told her, sir?”
    â€œYou dare. It’s all part of the Rollison service,” said the Toff, sipping at his whisky again, and lighting a cigarette. “It will make them move hurriedly, and when in a hurry things are apt to be done carelessly. I’m expecting an attack or assault at any moment, remember that.”
    â€œYes, sir. You were talking of Mr. Renway.”
    â€œWas I? Oh, yes. I want an Italian panel that I think is by de Rossi. Renway is coming to see it, and to advise me. So get out quickly, and buy the cheapest imitation of a de Rossi that you can find. An old one, preferably, you’ll get one in the Strand, if nowhere else. All understood?”
    â€œYes, sir,” said Jolly. “I’ll go at once.”
    Rollison sat back for some minutes, and then stood up and examined himself in the bathroom mirror again. He grimaced, for he did not like to think that he was tired at the beginning of an affair. There were, of course, good reasons. Prior to the arrival of Anthea there had been several quick affaires , and the Toff had spent ten days on the social whirl. They included very late nights, and he could do with some sleep.
    Renway, however, was due at seven.
    The Toff bathed, leisurely, still pondering the murder and the motive behind it, and was rubbing himself down when the telephone rang. He draped a towel about him and went into the living room, to hear a pleasing feminine voice which he recognized immediately.
    â€œMr. Rollison, please.”
    â€œAnd you really don’t know me?” mourned the Toff.
    â€œOh—Rolly!” Anthea’s voice sounded relieved, and a moment later her words confirmed it. “Are you all right?”
    â€œOf course I’m all right.”
    â€œI—I had an awful fear that something might have gone wrong.”
    â€œDon’t get that kind of anxiety-complex,” said the Toff laughingly, although he did not feel amused. He hoped that Anthea was not going to become too attached, and he groaned when she went on: “I’m not sure about that. Rolly, Jamie’s been delayed.”
    â€œOh,” said Rollison. “Too bad.”
    â€œAnd I’m alone, cooped up in the house because of my beastly ankle.”
    â€œI’m awfully sorry,” said the Toff, who seemed off form conversationally.
    â€œYe-es,” said Anthea, and she laughed a little. “You’re blessing me, aren’t you, Rolly? Wishing I wouldn’t pester you, and hoping I won’t fall for your grey eyes! There’s no need for worry there, either; Jamie’s just right for me, but …” she paused for a moment, and when she went on sounded a little forlorn: “If you have a little while to spare tonight, or tomorrow, I’d love to hear what’s happening.”
    You would, would you?” said Rollison, and he laughed, for there was something very appealing about Anthea. “I’ll see what I can do for you, my infant, but don’t expect too much. And if I come, remember that I’m already in bad with your mother.”
    â€œYou’re not. I told her about the visiting card, and she …”
    â€œI can see my sympathy is wasted on you,” Rollison said. “Nevertheless, I’ll slip round if I can.”
    â€œI’d love you to, Rolly! Goodbye.”
    Rollison replaced the receiver, arched his eyebrows, shrugged, and then turned away from the telephone. He was feeling chilly, and he stepped towards the bathroom,