Read Online Saint Goes West by Leslie Charteris - Free Book Online

the police,” Ginny said.
    The drinks arrived. Simon lighted a cigarette and waited until the waiter had gone away again.
    “What for?” he asked. “There was a guy in Lissa’s room last night. Nobody saw him. He didn’t leave any muddy footprints or any of that stuff. He used one of our own kitchen knives. If there ever were any fingerprints on it, they’ve been ruined. So-nothing … This afternoon someнbody shot at Freddie. Nobody saw him. He didn’t leave his gun, and nobody could ever find the bullet. So nothing again. What are the police going to do? They aren’t magicians … However, that’s up to you, Freddie.”
    “They could ask people questions,” Esther said hopefully.
    “So can we. We’ve been asking each other questions all the time. If anybody’s lying, they aren’t going to stop lying just because a guy with a badge is listening. What are they going to do-torture everybody and see what they get?”
    “They’d put a man on guard, or something,” said Ginny.
    “So what? Our friend has waited quite a while already. I’m sure he could wait some more. He could wait longer than any police department is going to detail a private cop to nurseнmaid Freddie. So the scare blows over, and everybody settles down, and sometime later, maybe somewhere else, Freddie gets it. Well, personally I’d rather take our chance now while we’re all warmed up.”
    “That’s right,” Freddie gave his verdict. “If we scare whoнever it is off with the police, they’ll only come back another time when we aren’t watching for them. I’d rather let them get on with it while we’re ready for them.”
    He looked rather proud of himself for having produced this penetrating reasoning all on his own.
    And then his mind appeared to wander, and his eyes changed their focus.
    “Hey,” he said in an awed voice. “Look at that, will you?” They looked, as he pointed. “The babe down by the pool. In the sarong effect. Boy, is that a chassis! Look at her!”
    She was, Simon admitted, something to look at. The three girls with them seemed to admit the same thing by their rather strained and intent silence. Simon could feel an almost tangible heaviness thicken into the air.
    Then Ginny sighed, as if relief had reached her rather late.
    “A blonde,” she said. “Well, Lissa, it’s nice to have known you.”
    Freddie didn’t even seem to hear it. He picked up his glass, still staring raptly at the vision. He put the glass to his lips.
    It barely touched, and he stiffened. He took it away and stared at it frozenly. Then he pushed it across the table toнwards the Saint.
    “Smell that,” he said.
    Simon put it to his nostrils. The hackneyed odor of bitter almonds was as strong and unmistakable as any mystery-story fan could have desired.
    “It doesn’t smell like prussic acid,” he said, with comнmendable mildness. He put the glass down and drew on his cigarette again, regarding the exhibit moodily. He was quite sure now that he was going to collect his day’s wages without much more delay. And probably the next day’s pay in adнvance, as well. At that, he thought that the job was poorly paid for what it was. He could see nothing in it at all to make him happy. But being a philosopher, he had to cast around for one little ray of sunshine. Being persistent, he found it. “So anyway,” he said, “at least we don’t have to bother about the servants any more.”
    7
    IT WAS a pretty slender consolation, he reflected, even after they had returned to the house and he had perfunctorily questioned the servants, only to have them jointly and severнally corroborate each other’s statements that none of them had left the place that afternoon.
    After which, they had all firmly but respectfully announced that they were not used to being under suspicion, that they did not feel comfortable in a household where people were frequently getting stabbed at, shot at, and poisoned at; that in any case they would prefer a