Read Online Salute the Toff by John Creasey - Free Book Online Page A

Don’t imagine that gun will help you. The place will be raided at the first sound of a shot.”
    Lorne snapped: “This silencer will drown it. You can’t bluff me.”
    â€œNo?” said the Toff inquiringly. “My dear fool, you don’t imagine that I came here unprepared? Or that I thought there was any chance of the real Draycott being here?”
    â€œI don’t care what you thought!”
    â€œIt’s always a mistake to underrate your opponent,” said the Toff, and then – as throughout that strange interview – it was as if he had the gun and the upper hand, and was able to dictate the conversation. He slid one hand into his pocket, and Lorne raised the gun two inches.
    â€œOh, don’t act like a school-kid!” said the Toff testily. “I’m here, and others will be soon. If you want a cut-and-dried case for murder against you, shoot and be damned. If you’d rather have a chance to avoid the Draycott charge, get out.”
    Lorne said: “You’re lying. And I didn’t kill Draycott.”
    â€œReally?” The Toff brought out his cigarette-case and his lighter, lit a cigarette and tossed the case gently towards Lorne. “Smoke?” he added.
    It was the simplest of things.
    The case curved an arc through the air, and was aimed to land about the region of Lorne’s waistband. Lorne either had to dodge or to make an attempt to catch it. He tried the latter, and for a moment the gun was pointing away from the Toff. Rollison moved his right hand to his trousers pocket and his own gun. He fired through his pocket. His bullet went wide, but the report was loud, and enough to make Lorne jump and then go pale.
    â€œWant another?” demanded the Toff, and his voice was very hard. “One to warn, and the other to mean business. We’ll shoot it out if you like.” Lorne said in a strangled voice: “Remember what I said about making a charge. If anyone comes, send them away!”
    The echo of the shot had faded, but there were footsteps outside. The Toff knew that Lorne was as desperate as ever he would be, and that if the door opened he would try to shoot his way out. There was no point in risking that: and for the moment the Toff preferred Lorne at large than in a police-station cell, although undoubtedly Chief Inspector McNab would have said that he was wrong. A sharp knock came on the door. The Toff said: “It’s all right, thanks.”
    â€œAh heard shooting,” called a North-country voice. “Ah swear it coom from here, sir.”
    â€œIt’s nothing to worry about,” said the Toff. “I’ll see you in ten minutes if you care to come back.” He did not seem to think it possible that whoever was outside would insist on coming in, and after a pause footsteps retreated from the door. Lorne was breathing hard, and his forehead was beaded with sweat. Quite slowly the Toff took his gun from his pocket, for Lorne had been intent on watching and covering the door. “Put that gun down,” Rollison ordered. Lorne took one look at him and obeyed. Harrison made a peculiar gasping noise, and sat straight up as if operated by a switch. He stared uncomprehendingly at the Toff and Lorne. “I’d rinse my face if I were you,” said the Toff easily. “Things have changed, and Lorne is now going to tell me a pretty story.”
    â€œI’m saying nothing!” cried Lorne.
    â€œYou have a peculiar habit of talking in exclamation marks,” said the Toff. “However, I’m not going to waste a lot of time. You flew here, didn’t you?”
    â€œSupposing I did?”
    â€œWho told you I was on my way?”
    Lorne said, with a slight return of his earlier confidence: “I had you watched, but you didn’t realise it. You were followed to Euston, and I guessed where you’d be making for.”
    â€œThat’s fine,” the Toff said. “So