Free Trouble on the Thames by Victor Bridges Page B

announced. “Is that Count von Manstein’s flat?”
    There was an affirmative grunt.
    â€œWho are you—Frederick?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œIs the Count in?”
    â€œI am afraid not, sir. He has been out of Town since Tuesday.”
    â€œWhen are you expecting him home?”
    â€œSome time to-morrow, sir. I am not certain when he will actually arrive.”
    â€œVery well. I will write a note and send it round. Be sure you give it to him directly he gets back.”
    â€œI will do so without fail, sir.”
    Replacing the telephone and producing a fountain-pen from his inside pocket, Craig pulled forward a sheet of notepaper. It was stamped at the top with the Club address. He began to write slowly, pausing at the end of each sentence as though to reconsider what he had already set down.
    My dear Von Manstein,
    There has been a very unpleasant and distinctly dangerous development in connection with the Medlicot affair. I won’t enter into details now, but it is most important that I should see you as soon as possible. I had fixed up to go down to Otter’s Holt to-night, and as your man tells me that you will not be back in Town until to-morrow there appears to be no point in altering my plans. I should be much obliged, however, if you would give me a ring at Thames Ferry directly you return. Should you be free, why not come down and stay the night? That, I think, would be the best arrangement, but if you are too busy and unable to get away I could, of course, run up to London and meet you either here or at your flat. The matter is most urgent, and we can’t afford to waste an unnecessary minute. I am sending this round by hand so as to make quite certain of its safe arrival.
    Yours sincerely,
    Mark Craig.
    Once again he read it through, and then, putting it into an envelope and carefully sticking the flap, pressed the same button by which he had previously summoned Casey. After a longish pause that gentleman presented himself in the doorway.
    â€œSorry to keep you waiting. Got collared in the hall by that old bore Sir John Tanner. He’s thinking of throwing a party here to-morrow.”
    â€œThat’s all right: he can afford to pay for it. See he has everything he wants.” Craig held out the letter. “I’d like you to take this round to von Manstein’s flat yourself and hand it to his servant. It’s too important to trust to anyone else.”
    The other raised his eyebrows. “Anything to do with our departed friend?”
    â€œNot altogether unconnected. Get back as soon as you can and we will run through these letters before I go.”
    Taking the envelope without further comment, Casey left the room. As he did so Craig rose to his feet, and walking slowly across to the window, stood gazing down at the passing traffic. Suddenly, and for no apparent reason, a thin, ugly smile flickered across his lips.
    â€œYes, you’ll hear from us sure enough,” he muttered. “You can put your money on that, Mr. Granville Sutton.”

Chapter V
    â€œLet’s see. Watch, money, pipe, baccy, matches, cigarettes—that seems to be the lot.” Owen paused reflectively, and then, stepping forward to the dressing-table, picked up an ancient leather wallet containing a cheque-book and two or three letters addressed to himself. “Better not take this—might lose it or drop it overboard.” He grinned suddenly at his own reflection. “Besides, if I’m going to be a sleuth, may as well do the job properly. Wouldn’t catch Sherlock Holmes cruising around with his name and address in his pocket.”
    Depositing the wallet in a drawer on top of some more of his belongings, he lifted down a small handbag from the bed, and made his way out into the passage. At the same instant the dignified figure of Watkins appeared from the kitchen. He was carrying a stout wicker-work basket, securely fastened by a leather strap