Salute The Toff
OUR SERIAL STORY ] ! c
BY JOHN CREASEY
CHAPTER XXlV—(Continued) “Chiefly because she’s rich enough to be worth it,” said the Toff. “As her trustee he could arrange for the ransom to be paid, and as the ringleader of the whole affair, he would collect it. But no one would suspect he had kidnapped his own niece, and he had another cover, you see. “All the time, of course, Meldrum and Irma were working without knowing who he was. He could tell them to send messages or threats to himself, and thus they could never tell the truth. Oh, it was cleverly arranged. But it looked to me as though Wellward was the one man who was carefully protected from any direct evidence. Selsom here owned Banner Towers, and we might say had other irons in the fire. Probably Wellward rented the Towers from him, under the name of Smith, to point suspicion towards him. Bannister’s chauffeur—probably recommended by Wellward—was one of the gang. “Then again, he had some hold over Basil Meldrum. Just what it was I don’t know, but ” Warrender broke in.
“While you were at Surrey, Rollison, we made one discovery. Meldrum was an imposter. He came from Australia, succeeded to a title that had no other claimant, but from papers he had it’s obvious that he murdered, the real Meldrum.” “Well, well, well!” murmured the Toff, smiling for the first time. “So Meldrum was easy meat. By the way, has anyone seen that buck nigger? McNab nodded. “The Surete held him yesterday. He’d escaped to France.” “Hmm! Gave the game up as soon as Meldrum was finished. Well, at the start it looked easy. Messrs Smith and Brown would be installed, the money paid without interference from the police—and there it was. But with the complications he found himself in Queer Street, and when we managed to get Irma and Meldrum at the cinema, he was in a bad way. Which explains his kidnapping of Rene—and I don’t doubt he would have smuggled her out of the way if we hadn’t called his bluff, and got his hands on her money. And that seems,” added the Toff, looking more tired than usual, “very nearly the lot. Some of the gangsters will get away, but you’ve got a nice bagfull, and Irma can hang.” Warrender nodded. “The only line we haven’t found vet is the man Redsmith. He tried to kill Wellward ” “Redsmith!” exclaimed Chief Inspector McNab. “Redsmith! I remember now—it was Meld rum’s—as he called himself—real name. Redsmith!” The Toff sat down heavily. “So that was it. -Wellward had Meldrum where he wanted him, and Meldrum’s father discovered who it was. That explains why Redsmith let them use his shop when Meldrum was running the show, and why he wanted to kill Wellward. You’ve not found Redsmith yet?” “I’m dooting,” said McNab, “whether we ever will.” McNab Was Wrong As it happened, McNab was wrong. Redsmith, an ill man, was found in a garret in Wandsworth, a fortnight later. He was within a few days of his death, and he died at the police hospital, but not until he had admitted that he hated Wellward because of the baronet's hold over his “And that,” said the Toff, a more cheerful man now, sitting back in his favourite armchair and lighting a cigarette, “clears the whole affair up. Congratulations all round. Now we’ve got over the shock of Bruce being the man—well, at least we didn’t have to face a trial, and well forget. Particularly you, Rene.” Rene Wellward smiled. She looked pale, but she was no longer worried—although that might have had something to do with Pete Delray, who was sitting in the next chair, and trying not to seem self-conscious. “I’ll look after Rene,” he said. "Fixed it up, eh?” asked the Toff. “Quick work, and congratulations.” "Thank heavens you didn't say he was a money-seeker,” said Rene with some heat. “Most of them do. But—well, the Regia Picture Corporation is mine now, and it needs a general manager, and if Pete doesn’t know enough ” “He’ll learrt.” smiled the Toff. “My blessings, children. What—going?” Rene Wellward stood up quickly.
But she went towards the Toff, not the door, and she pressedi her lips against his forehead The Toff looked startled. “Here, I don’t want any jealous young man after my blood, pet, reserve your embraces for a younger, better man.” “Younger, but certainly not better,” said Pete. He looked ill at ease as he faced the Toff. “I’ll never be able to thank you, Roilison.” “Make me a grandfather, or a third cousin or something,” grinned the Toff, “and you will. Now get out, I’m tired, and I’ve a nasty feeling there’s going to be an outbreak of crime again before I’ve had a good night’s rest.” THE END.
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Waikato Times, Volume 127, Issue 21189, 12 August 1940, Page 3
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806Salute The Toff Waikato Times, Volume 127, Issue 21189, 12 August 1940, Page 3
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