Read Online The Saint in Miami by Leslie Charteris - Free Book Online

duplicity.”
    “And shy,” said Patricia.
    “Perhaps. But certainly not lacking-at least in several major points which a crude man might find attractive in that particular type of girl.”
    “I suppose that’s why you offered to find some more fun for her.”
    “So long as she has her fun,” Peter observed, “it can’t really matter if you get us all bumped off.”
    Simon created a perfect smoke-ring.
    “We don’t have to worry about that for the present. I think our murders will be temporarily postponed on account of the hitch which I contrived last night.”
    “You mean that letter you invented?”
    Simon refrained from answering while Desdemona hove alongside to collect the dishes. When the last of them was on the tray supported by her ample arm, she asked stoically:
“When is you-all goin’ away?”
    The Saint flipped a half dollar in the air, caught it, and placed it on the edge of the laden tray.
    “That was one of the best breakfasts I ever ate, Desdemona,” he told her. “I think we’ll wait until Mr Gilbeck gets back.” He added deliberately: “Are you sure they didn’t give you any idea how long they’d be away?”
    ” ‘Deed they didn’t.” Desdemona’s eyes grew round as they moved from Simon to the shiny coin. “Sometimes they’s gone a week acruisin’. Sometimes ‘tain’t moh than foh a day.”
    She departed stolidly on that enlightening note, and Peter grinned.
    “You’d better try some folding money next time,” he suggested. “She doesn’t seem to thaw for silver.”
    “All artists are temperamental.” Simon stretched his legs and took up from where he had been interrupted. “Yes, I was talking about that letter which I was clever enough to invent.” “What makes you think they believe in it any more?” “Perhaps they don’t. But on the other hand, they don’t know for certain. That’s the catch. And even if they’ve decided that I really didn’t have a letter last night, the idea’s been put into their head. There might be a letter. I might even write one myself, having seen how they reacted to the idea. It’s a discouraging risk. So they won’t bump us off until they’re quite sure about it”
    “How nice,” Peter said glumly. “So instead of being bumped off without any mess, we can look forward to being tortured until they find out just where they do stand.”
    Patricia straightened suddenly.
    Simon looked at her, and saw that her cheeks had gone pale under the golden tan.
    “Then,” she said slowly, “if Gilbeck and Justine haven’t been murdered-if they’ve only been kidnapped-“
    “Go on,” said the Saint steadily.
    She stared at him from a masklike face that mirrored unthinkable things.
    “If you’re right about all these things you’ve guessed-if March really is up to the neck in dirty business, and he’s afraid of Gilbeck giving him away-” One distraught hand rumpled her corn-gold hair. “If Gilbeck and, Justine are prisoners somewhere, this gang will do anything to make them talk.”
    “They wouldn’t need to do much,” said the Saint. “Gilbeck would have to talk, to save Justine.”
    “After which jolly interlude,” Peter said woodenly, “he can allow himself to be slaughtered in ineffable peace, secure in the knowledge that March and Company have nothing but affection for his fatherless little girl.”
    “But they’d never believe him now,” Patricia said, shakily. “When he says he doesn’t know anything about any such letter, they’ll think that that’s just what he would say. They’ll torture him horribly, perhaps Justine too. They’ll go on and on, trying to find out something he can’t possibly tell them!” The Saint shook his head. He stood up restlessly, but his face was quite calm.
    “I think you’re both wrong,” he said quietly. “If Lawrence Gilbeck and Justine are still alive, I think that letter will be their insurance policy. While he believes in it March won’t dare have them killed. And