Held At Bay Read Free Page A

unless you give up the idea of stealing the five Jewels of Castilla. Which brings us to the crux of the matter. Forget those stones, and you’ll be all right. Go after them, and I’ll guarantee to have the three of you parcelled up for the Old Bailey within a month.”
    Olling was breathing hard, his cigar dead. Kelworthy’s wrinkled eyes were blinking, and his scraggy hands were folded in his lap. Only Granette and the Baron seemed self-possessed.
    â€œIs that—is that a threat?” squeaked Kelworthy.
    â€œHow in heaven’s name you manage to run this syndicate, Jacob, I don’t know. You look like a corpse and you talk like a fool, but there must be a spark of intelligence in you somewhere.”
    The change in Jacob Kelworthy was astonishing. He stopped fidgeting, and his eyes no longer blinked, his voice was still harsh, but not querulous.
    â€œThat’s more than enough. You’ll be in jail long before we are.”
    â€œThis isn’t a game of I-say-you-say,” retorted the Baron. “Little tricks like the one with the Isabella will neither harm me nor help the police. I’ve come with a straightforward proposition. Stop the hunt for the five Jewels of Castilla, and I’ll leave you alone. Go after them, and I’ll break you.”
    The words sounded as bleak as a five-year sentence from the judge to Olling, who was feeling physically sick. After his one outburst, Kelworthy had quietened down. There was something in the Baron’s confidence that was not only convincing, but frightening.
    But Jules Granette laughed.
    â€œYou are over confident.”
    â€œAre you coming after the jewels?”
    â€œMost certainly I am,” Granette answered suavely. “The others are, also.”
    The Baron looked from one man to the other, his hazel eyes very hard.
    â€œRight, we’ll call it war, and you’ll regret it very soon. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
    The Baron finished speaking while he was moving from the table. He continued to move towards the door. He was facing the trio all the time, guessing that Granette was aching to get at his gun. He put his left hand behind him, took the key from the keyhole, and opened the door. Before Kelworthy or the others realised it, the Baron was in the next room, and the door was shut and locked against them.
    Olling, red-faced and swearing now, moved for the door.
    â€œThe window,” cried Granette. “The window!”
    Olling stopped in the middle of a stride, and swung round. Granette was already pulling the sashcord window down. It squeaked protestingly before there was space enough for Granette to squeeze through. Olling, filled with the courage of desperation, went after him.
    Kelworthy stayed where he was, but took an automatic pistol from the drawer in his desk, every movement cool and deliberate. His eyes were narrowed, his expression little short of murderous.
    In the hall of Kelworthy’s house the Baron was moving very fast and softly. He reached the front door, opened it and then banged it to, without going out. He paused by the foot of the stairs, his lips curved behind his mask, his eyes as bright as ever. He heard the footsteps of the men on the gravel path outside.
    To the Baron half the joy of cracksmanship was the risk entailed, and from a joust with a trio like the Kelworthy syndicate he got more fun than from a dozen straightforward robberies. He was telling himself that Kelworthy, Granette and Olling would be sure that he had left the house; the last place in which they would think of looking for him would be here.
    The Baron went quickly upstairs. As he reached the first landing he heard the front door bell ring, and he guessed that Olling and Granette had returned from a fruitless chase.
    Footsteps came from the landing above.
    He swung round, catching sight of the shoes and ankles of a manservant hurrying downstairs. The Baron slipped quickly into the shadow of a