A Thief in the Night Read Free Page A

you see,’ he added to Basson, in way of explanation.
    ‘Never painted our place,’ sighed Lord George. ‘Go on, Simon.’
    ‘Well I paid close on a thousand for it from this dealer … just six weeks ago!’ said Sir Simon, anger heating his every word. ‘He was paid at the end of last month of course, by a bill of exchange. I came here because you have friends in the police, I hear, even in the ranks of the detectives. Word gets around about you. Is there any way you could help me, George?’
    Lord George stubbed out his cigarette and turned to face his friend. ‘Just a moment … did you say that we are known for work against crime?’
    ‘Why yes … in the clubs and coffee houses, I think. I myself heard about you in the Turkish Baths.’
    Lord George looked surprised: usually he hid his emotions very well. He was partly shocked and partly impressed. ‘But we’re a secret society, Simon … at least I thought we were. We merely supply a need – specialist knowledge when required; if the police take no interest or meet with failure, then the Septimus Society is here. But good God, we never advertise!’ He gave Harry a searching look, and the professor of literature puffed out his rosy cheeks. ‘By Heaven, George, you don’t think that I …’
    ‘All I’m saying, Harry, is that you have a tendency to speak first and think afterwards.’
    Harry Lacey smiled to himself, reflecting that he was enjoying doing something entirely different to studying old books. But he pretended to be offended and pulled a face, before exclaiming, ‘I’m the very soul of discretion, George … never speak of us. It was most probably Leo; he can’t keep a secret.’
    Basson was growing impatient. He stood up, and for a moment George thought his friend was going to stamp his feet and have a childish tantrum, but instead he simply asked what was to be done.
    George stood too, took another cigarette from his silver case, and said, ‘We must go to an art auction, Simon … but not the Matchdown. He won’t show his face there again. No, he’ll be at another. Then we also have the question of how he deluded you and who’s the scratcher. Probably the man you met is the talker, and his scratcher’s behind somewhere. What happened exactly?’
    Basson told of meeting the man at the auction and then being taken in by his talk of having several paintings in his own establishment which were for sale. His argument was obvious – a private sale would avoid the auction house’s cut, of course. ‘He then invited me to his place, and we went to a studio where there was a man working, and pictures around the room …’
    Lord George cut in: ‘Do you recall passing any significant places … or did anything stay in the mind?’
    ‘Yes … yes, the sale was in Poland Street and we walked …,’ Basson frowned in concentration, ‘… we went through Soho Square … then, well, it was very dark and I had, you know, taken a drink or two.’
    George was putting the scene together in his mind. His friend had been talked into going with this man, then he was taken to a small room which was apparently a painter’s studio. There he sold Simon the painting.
    ‘Very well, to the art sale tomorrow! We’ll try to find this rogue.’ George declared.
    ‘There’s a rather grand affair at the Holborn house … at eleven.’
    ‘Meet me there … I’ll have Kate with me,’ said George.
    ‘No you won’t George,’ Harry said, confidently. ‘Kate, as of today, is no longer with us. I meant to tell you but all you could talk about was the problem of the London criminal and the epidemic of night assaults. We lost her to a lucrative marriage.’
    ‘Then we must recruit a woman immediately. Go home, Simon, gather your strength, and meet one of our Society there tomorrow.’
    As Simon Basson left, George asked his friend, ‘Where may we find a suitable actress in time for tomorrow morning?’
    ‘Why, at The Savoy of course. I have one young lady