Read Online 1972 - Just a Matter of Time by James Hadley Chase - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: James Hadley Chase
Ads: Link
cash and Miss Oldhill explained to me that I should have cash in my bag . . . that’s right, isn’t it, Chris?’
Patterson hesitated.
‘A cheque is safer.’ So it was Sheila who had sold this idea to the old lady. ‘Still, you have it now.’
Mrs. Morely-Johnson tapped his wrist with her long fingers.
‘You mustn’t treat me like a child.’
Patterson forced a laugh.
‘The last thing in the world I would think of doing.’ His mind suddenly uneasy. He knew he had been treating this old lady like a child. He had been in complete control of her money and now this sudden discordant note.
‘I mustn’t waste more of your time, Chris,’ Mrs. Morely-Johnson was saying. ‘I am also keeping Bromhead waiting. Life is such a rush, isn’t it? I have a lot of shopping to do.’ Again she patted Patterson’s wrist. ‘Some time next week you must dine with me. I will ask Sheila to call you.’
‘I would like that very much.’
Patterson got to his feet. He felt uneasy and frustrated. He had no excuse to see Sheila. As he went out into the lobby he found Jack Bromhead standing by the front door: immaculate in his uniform, his cockaded hat under his arm. He gave Patterson a slight bow and opened the front door for him.
‘Morning, Mr. Patterson,’ he said in his beautifully modulated voice. ‘Did you find madam well?’
Patterson, always conscious that underlings were important, gave Bromhead his warm smile.
‘She looks wonderful,’ he said, slightly raising his voice in the hope Mrs. Morely-Johnson might hear him. ‘What a great personality!’
Bromhead inclined his head, seeing through Patterson’s act and going along with it.
‘You are right, sir . . . a remarkable personality.’
Mrs. Morely-Johnson listened. What dear men these two were! she thought.
As Patterson left the elevator, feeling frustrated and not a little worried, he saw Sheila at the bookstall, buying a copy of Life. This was no accidental meeting. Bromhead had arranged it and his timing had been perfect. Listening at the door, and when he had heard Mrs. Morely-Johnson telling Patterson she had shopping to do, he had signalled to Sheila who had left the penthouse and had taken the elevator to the lobby. She had gone to the bookstall and had glanced through the magazines, watching the lighted indicator that told her the elevator was returning to the penthouse. Then when she saw the elevator was descending, she selected Life magazine and was paying for it as Patterson came out of the cage.
She turned and walked towards him, leafing through the magazine, apparently unaware that she was approaching him.
‘Sheila.’
She paused, then looked up.
‘Why . . . Chris.’ She gave him a ghost of a smile. ‘I was hoping to have a word with you.’ She moved closer to him. ‘I wanted to thank you for . . .’
‘Never mind that,’ Patterson said, his breathing uneven. ‘Let’s take the thanks as written. The old lady will be down in a few minutes. When do I see you, Sheila?’
The smoky blue eyes opened wide.
‘See me? Why . . . you’re seeing me now.’
Was she conning him? Patterson wondered. But I pay my debts . She had said that. What was this? He stared at her, trying to see any sign of promise, but the calm face and now the spectacles and the severe hairdo which he had suggested presented a baffling barrier to him, but he was sure still, if he pressed the right button, she was there to be had.
‘I would like to take you out again.’
‘That’s very kind of you.’
There was a long pause while he waited hopefully but as he realized she wasn’t adding to this impersonal statement, he said, ‘Fine. I know a very good restaurant not far from here. When can you fix it?’
‘I don’t know. I’m not free now. I’ll call you.’
‘You get a day off . . . the other one had Sundays. Suppose we make it next Sunday?’
‘It’s very nice of you, but I may have things to do on my day off. I don’t know.’ She gave him
Patterson hesitated.
‘A cheque is safer.’ So it was Sheila who had sold this idea to the old lady. ‘Still, you have it now.’
Mrs. Morely-Johnson tapped his wrist with her long fingers.
‘You mustn’t treat me like a child.’
Patterson forced a laugh.
‘The last thing in the world I would think of doing.’ His mind suddenly uneasy. He knew he had been treating this old lady like a child. He had been in complete control of her money and now this sudden discordant note.
‘I mustn’t waste more of your time, Chris,’ Mrs. Morely-Johnson was saying. ‘I am also keeping Bromhead waiting. Life is such a rush, isn’t it? I have a lot of shopping to do.’ Again she patted Patterson’s wrist. ‘Some time next week you must dine with me. I will ask Sheila to call you.’
‘I would like that very much.’
Patterson got to his feet. He felt uneasy and frustrated. He had no excuse to see Sheila. As he went out into the lobby he found Jack Bromhead standing by the front door: immaculate in his uniform, his cockaded hat under his arm. He gave Patterson a slight bow and opened the front door for him.
‘Morning, Mr. Patterson,’ he said in his beautifully modulated voice. ‘Did you find madam well?’
Patterson, always conscious that underlings were important, gave Bromhead his warm smile.
‘She looks wonderful,’ he said, slightly raising his voice in the hope Mrs. Morely-Johnson might hear him. ‘What a great personality!’
Bromhead inclined his head, seeing through Patterson’s act and going along with it.
‘You are right, sir . . . a remarkable personality.’
Mrs. Morely-Johnson listened. What dear men these two were! she thought.
As Patterson left the elevator, feeling frustrated and not a little worried, he saw Sheila at the bookstall, buying a copy of Life. This was no accidental meeting. Bromhead had arranged it and his timing had been perfect. Listening at the door, and when he had heard Mrs. Morely-Johnson telling Patterson she had shopping to do, he had signalled to Sheila who had left the penthouse and had taken the elevator to the lobby. She had gone to the bookstall and had glanced through the magazines, watching the lighted indicator that told her the elevator was returning to the penthouse. Then when she saw the elevator was descending, she selected Life magazine and was paying for it as Patterson came out of the cage.
She turned and walked towards him, leafing through the magazine, apparently unaware that she was approaching him.
‘Sheila.’
She paused, then looked up.
‘Why . . . Chris.’ She gave him a ghost of a smile. ‘I was hoping to have a word with you.’ She moved closer to him. ‘I wanted to thank you for . . .’
‘Never mind that,’ Patterson said, his breathing uneven. ‘Let’s take the thanks as written. The old lady will be down in a few minutes. When do I see you, Sheila?’
The smoky blue eyes opened wide.
‘See me? Why . . . you’re seeing me now.’
Was she conning him? Patterson wondered. But I pay my debts . She had said that. What was this? He stared at her, trying to see any sign of promise, but the calm face and now the spectacles and the severe hairdo which he had suggested presented a baffling barrier to him, but he was sure still, if he pressed the right button, she was there to be had.
‘I would like to take you out again.’
‘That’s very kind of you.’
There was a long pause while he waited hopefully but as he realized she wasn’t adding to this impersonal statement, he said, ‘Fine. I know a very good restaurant not far from here. When can you fix it?’
‘I don’t know. I’m not free now. I’ll call you.’
‘You get a day off . . . the other one had Sundays. Suppose we make it next Sunday?’
‘It’s very nice of you, but I may have things to do on my day off. I don’t know.’ She gave him
Similar Books
