Read The Toff on Fire for Free Online

them? The note was a plea, and the note had mentioned ‘The Doc’. This was the first time he had heard of the Doc since his return from New York, but he knew that many people, little crooks and honest men alike, were in terror of him.
    Someone unknown had brought the infant, apparently believing with a startling faith that he, Rollison, would protect it.
    And the Doc might snatch, might kidnap the child.
    If the Doc knew where it was, if he suspected that it had been brought to this flat, it would be easy for him to find out where it was being cared for; so a snatch would be possible if not easy.
    The fewer to know where the baby was, the safer.
    For the time being, Rollison decided, the important thing was to keep the Wylies quiet; for the truth might make them talk, or make them insist on bringing in the police, and if the writer of the note had wanted that, he would have gone to the police himself.
    All these things passed through Rollison’s mind as he studied John Wylie’s heavy features. So did Esmeralda’s opinion of Jane Wylie’s character. Esmeralda was probably ignorant of one thing because she was very young. Among people of the Wylies’ generation – which was also Rollison’s – there was a kind of code. A high moral conviction might possess Jane, making her believe that he must ‘do right’ by the mother; but she would give him the chance to do so before trying to exert any pressure – such as threatening to gossip about the new arrival at Gresham Terrace.
    Now Rollison believed that he needed a little straight man-to-man stuff with Wylie.
    â€œWylie,” he said slowly, “I don’t mind admitting that all this is a shock. Big one, too. Caught me on the wrong foot, so to speak. I know I can rely on your discretion. Your wife’s too. I need just a little time to—er—make arrangements. I shan’t let anyone down, of course.”
    Out came the pipe and, explosively: “Of course not! Regret, personally, we decided to come here. Very interesting trophy wall, though.” Wylie’s eyes did not twinkle and his face did not light up, but he did not need to add that the most interesting trophy was the one collected tonight. “I’ll have a word with Jane. Ah—’nother problem.”
    Oh, no!
    â€œOh?”
    Wylie jerked the stem of the pipe towards the bedroom.
    â€œNeeds woman’s care,” he announced.
    â€œAh,” said Rollison very softly, and had one of his better moments. “You couldn’t be more right. Do you think that your wife—?”
    â€œSurprised if she won’t,” declared Wylie. “Might be an idea if you went along now—see how things are.” Back went the pipe, this time with finality, and he moved away towards his chair and a glass which was still half full of whisky and soda.
    Rollison put a cigarette to his lips, and stepped slowly towards the bedrooms. There were two at this side of the flat, his – which was large – and a spare one which was much smaller. He had taken it for granted that Jane was in his room, but soon realised that he was wrong. The light showed at the door of the spare room.
    That was unfortunate, but Rollison found himself smiling as he tapped at the door. If ever two were available to add to two, it was here. By accident – it was hard to believe that it was design – Jane had gone into this room. She would have looked about for things she needed for the baby, and would have found women’s clothes in the wardrobe, make-up in the dressing-table, a room that was much more boudoir than one would expect in any bachelor’s flat.
    Rollison went in.
    Esmeralda, her eyes still glistening and a kind of awe in her expression, stood by the dressing-table. Jane Wylie was sitting on the edge of a large single bed. The clothes had been turned down and the baby, still in the shawl, lay on it like a huge grey chrysalis.