Salute The Toff

Waikato Times, Volume 127, Issue 21178, 30 July 1940, Page 8

Salute The Toff

BY JOHN CREASEY

__ OITR SERIAL STORY

CHAPTER XVlll.—(Continued) ‘‘But—but why?” “When did you get this note?” “About mid-day. Yes, about midday. Here it is, Richard.” Rollison saw a typewritten note, which advised Wellward to go to the Robo Club that evening, unless he wanted to have very bad news of his niece. There was no signature, but it was easy to understand why Wellward had obeyed it. “Mid-day, eh? Before we managed to collect Rene, and therefore when they had a very strong hand to play. I should say they wanted to put the fear of God into you, and I can’t imagine a better place to do that than the East End, particularly near the river. However, we’ve checkmated them again, and I don’t doubt they’re feeling sore. You didn’t know that more cinemas had been raided tonight.” Wellward sat down heavily. “What—more attacks?” “Yes,” said the Toff. “Despite the fact that you, Bannister and Selsom have all signed the paper to pay over ten per cent of your profits to Messrs Smith and Brown. It looks more than ever as though Irma and her boy friends are afraid to collect now. And they’re desperately in need ot money. I ”

And then the Toff stopped. He had heard the ringing of the door bell, and more clearly he heard the heavy footsteps that rushed into the flat. Before Jolly had time to open the inner door and announce the caller, it burst open. And the Toff saw Mr Rupert Bannister, blood streaming from a wound in his forehead, almost fall into the room. CHAPTER XIX. “Paying Out the Money” Bannister! It was the Toff who reached the man first, and snapped orders to Jolly, but Rene and Pete were close behind him. Wellward leaned forward in his chair, staring as though he could not believe his eyes. Bannister was breathing hard, as though he had run a long way, and the Toff forced a little brandy between his clenched lips. He wanted the man to talk and to talk fast. Bannister gasped. “I was—coming to see—you, Rollison. I had a note ” Bannister paused for breath, and Rollison thought grimly that there had been a lot of notes flying about that day. A spot more brandy helped, and the film magnate went on, each breath more difficult than the last. “About—paying out—the money. To—Smith and Brown.” “The Devil you did!” exclaimed the Toff, and his eyes were gleaming “How and where?” “It—was complicated,” gasped Bannister. “Don’t remember—much. Had to go to Guildford. Then wait for—man wearing—red carnation. But—but the letter was stolen, Rollison!” “Take it easy,” said the Toff gently. He knew that there would not be a great deal more information to come from Bannister, but the fact that Guildford had come into the show was interesting. On the other hand, it might just be a blind. Ten minutes later, when Bannister’s head was bandaged temporarily, and the doctor was on the way to Rollison’s flat for the second time that night, the whole story was told. Bannister had received the note, pushed under the door of his Regent’s Park house by someone unknown. He had immediately decided to go and see Rollison. For obvious reasons he had been afraid ot the police, and like Wellward he had believed that Rollison could help him.

He had ordered his car, but when they had reached the end of Gresham Terrace, they had had a puncture. Knowing he had little more than a hundred yards to walk, Bannister had decided to finish the journey on foot. Less than fifty yards from the Toff’s house a man had stopped him, asking for a light. As Bannister had searched in his pockets for one, the man had struck him heavily across the head—causing the wound—and while he had been semiconscious, had searched his pockets. Bannister had recovered well enough to stagger to the flat—and to find that the note, with the instructions for paying cash—was gone. The Toff was by the door as Bannister finished. “Nothing else, as far as you know?” “No.” “Did anyone know you were coming here?” “Of course not! Even the chauffeur didn’t know who I was visiting, but just had the address. “Hum! Pete, we’ll go for a walk.” “Going far?” asked Rene Wellward. The Toff hesitated, and then shook his head. Five minutes afterwards —with two policemen on their heels, for the men had instructions to follow the girl everywhere—they reached the end of Gresham Terrace. A chauffeur was bending down by a Rolls Royce car, obviously changing the wheel. The Toff frowned, for that looked genuine and he had been suspicious of the chauffeur. He reached the man and stopped. The fellow looked round. “A message from Mr Bannister,” said the Toff. “He’s had a slight accident, but ” But the Toff did not go further. He heard a gasp from Rene, and a moment later the chauffeur’s face seemed to blanche. The man turned tail and ran as though pursued by the devil himself—and he wasn’t far wrong. He hadn’t reached Piccadilly before the Toff had him down in a flying tackle. The Yard men, Pete, and Rene were all close behind, and the Toff had time to ask: “Recognise him, Rene?” “I should say I do!” exclaimed Rene Wellward, and her eyes were shining. “It’s the man who brought the message at Dover—the man who told me he was from Uncle!” Died A Natural Death The best laid schemes, the Toff would paraphrase occasionally, of police and rogues, often died a natural death. The presence of one of the gang’s representatives in the Bannister household was a good example of that. (To be continued)