Read Online Held At Bay by John Creasey - Free Book Online

risk.
    He was steadying a little as he reached the door and opened it. He glanced up at the cylinder but the opening of the door did not disturb the plaster. Again he took in great gasps of clear air, and the swirling of his senses eased, his legs became steadier.
    He switched off the light in Salmonson’s office, glad of the darkness. In the passage the air was clear, and he decided to let some of the gas escape from the office before he ventured in again. Five precious minutes had passed when he went back.
    The odour of ether-gas was still noticeable, but nothing like so strong, and the Baron knew that his effort had succeeded; the danger was no longer acute. He closed the door, glancing up at the cylinder. The slight bulge in the plaster seemed no bigger; no more gas would escape. The Baron was feeling almost light-headed as he stepped across to the desk and stretched his hand towards the inkwell. Salmonson had given him a great deal more to think about than he had expected. No wonder the man did not employ a night-watchman!
    There was little need for the Baron’s mask. With the door closed, no one could see the light in the office. He ran his fingers about the inkstand, and then, so suddenly that he was startled for a moment, he heard the sliding of the door to the vault.
    â€œPerfect,” murmured the Baron aloud.
    The vault was in darkness, a black void. The Baron waited until the door slid right back, and then stepped towards it, wondering what next Salmonson had in store for him. As he reached the vault opening, he realised that he had not underestimated the cunning of Mr. Salmonson.
    For what he thought was the black void of the vault was a sheet of steel, painted a dull black. The Baron’s fingers knocked against it sharply, and he drew back, surprised at the sudden pain and the fact that he touched anything but air.
    Again he stood poised, staring ahead at another door, another barrier. Time seemed to stand still.
    â€œHe’s certainly good,” murmured the Baron at last, and the sound of his own voice gave him confidence. He looked at the edges of the sheet of steel, and he found what he was after. There was a small keyhole, although nothing else to suggest a lock. Salmonson obviously took this extra precaution when he was off the premises, and the steel had not been visible that morning because Salmonson had used the vault before Mannering’s arrival.
    The Baron took out his pick-lock, inserting it quickly, but no pick-lock would help him this time. It was far too complicated, and the key was probably one of the newest type, an expanding block, with the barrel little thicker than a darning needle. The barrel was pushed into the hole, and the top of the key pressed, so that the block itself expanded to fit inside the hole.
    â€œAnd that means gelignite,” said the Baron aloud. He had never encountered anything better guarded than Salmonson’s vault, and success here would be an absolute triumph.
    It was reasonably certain that the explosion of gelignite would not be heard outside, with all the doors closed. He went out into the shop to make sure every door was closed, re-entered the office and pressed the adhesive tape more tightly, then took a small stick of gelignite from his pocket. It had a sixty-second fuse, and he had brought it for the safe inside. He had two other sticks, and he could well afford to use one.
    He widened the keyhole with his file, pushed in as much of the gelignite stick as he could, and lit the fuse. Then he hurried out of the office, closing the door, and waited in the passage. The seconds ticked by interminably, until with a suddenness that surprised him the dull boom! came.
    The sound was deafened by the closed office door, and he doubted whether anyone would be able to hear it outside. The only next-door premises had been locked, and it was safe to assume they were empty. But he waited for three minutes before going into the office again, and odd