Read Online Send for the Saint by Leslie Charteris, Peter Bloxsom - Free Book Online Page B

ferociously indignant expression on his face.
    “Why? Why?”
    “What’s happened?” asked the Saint calmly.
    “Six cargo ships — on their way to Singapore. In mid-ocean, suddenly they change course, for an unknown destination. Unknown to me. Who ordered it? The Communications Office say / did — from Athens. Me! But I am here!”
    The Saint went very still.
    “Then it’s obvious, isn’t it,” he said quietly, “that the other you is there.”
    Patroclos Two stared at him.
    “No, no … Even he … “he seemed to consider for a moment. “Without my personal code — “
    “What are these ships carrying ?” the Saint interrupted, ignoring Patroclos Two’s mention of the codebook.
    “Who cares what they are carrying?”
    “It seems he does.”
    “Oh — agricultural machinery … a little paint, fertilisers …
    Ariadne burst in, breathless.
    “The codebook — it isn’t there, sir.”
    “Of course it’s there,” said Patroclos impatiently. “You returned it to the safe yourself only yesterday.”
    Ariadne looked almost guilty.
    “But it’s not there now. I checked thoroughly.”
    He stared at her, eyes blazing again, then grabbed the keys from her hand and strode from the room. Simon shook his head, chuckling. “Tremendous act your boss puts on. You should try and persuade him to go on the stage. Put it to him that he owes it to the world. As it is, he’s denying the theatre public so much fabulous talent.”
    “But this is serious! If the codebook is missing — and I did put it back — “
    She rushed out in Patroclos Two’s wake still almost visible, and the Saint followed. They found him in the bedroom raking all the papers out of the safe and on to the floor of the wardrobe. He glared around as they came into the room; and then he turned on the Saint, and there were little red specks of anger burning in the cores of his eyes.
    “You!” he shouted, stabbing a sudden accusing finger. “You took the codebook! That cable from Athens — “
    The Saint clapped politely.
    “Bravo. Beautiful lines, beautifully delivered.”
    “You’re working for the other side!”
    Ariadne looked helplessly from one man to the other: from the squat powerful figure of Diogenes Patroclos (or was it his double?) with his musketball eyes and livid expression, to Simon Templar, calm and smiling and insolent. And the Saint’s voice floated coolly across the room with a challenge that was dazzlingly simple and which he knew Patroclos Two would be unable to refuse with credibility.
    “Whether I’m working for him or not”, he pointed out, “it seems clear that the other Patroclos is in Athens. Why aren’t we there, knocking hell out of him?”
    And in the pause that followed, he could almost hear the whirring of gears in Patroclos Two’s brain, as the mogul considered the implications of that logical proposal. For perhaps a minute he stood silent, with his head tilted slightly to one side as if to give him a new perspective on the Saint; and then he nodded thoughtfully,
“Of course, Templar. As I should have expected, you are absolutely right.” He turned briskly to Ariadne. “How soon can my plane be ready ?”
    “It was having an engine overhaul, you remember. It was supposed to be finished tomorrow.”
    “Well contact the pilot at once. They will have to work overtime and finish tonight. We will face this confounded impostor first thing tomorrow. Pack your bags. And cancel all my appointments. Nothing is as important as this!”
    10
Patroclos’ private plane was faster than the aircraft in commercial service, and it landed in Athens, after a refuelling stop in Milan, only eight hours after leaving London. It was almost nine o’clock in the morning there.
    “Our arrival at the office must be a complete surprise.” said Patroclos Two as he hailed a taxi outside the airport. “Obviously we cannot afford to alert the impostor and give him a chance to escape.”
    Simon Templar raised an