Held At Bay Read Free Page B

big cupboard. If the servant glanced towards him, the game would be up. The Baron’s hands were clenched, his heart was thumping, but the man was in too much of a hurry to look about him.
    The Baron left the shelter, and tried the handles of the nearest doors. The first two rooms were bedrooms. The third was what he wanted – a small, windowless room, furnished as an office and with a small safe in the north wall. He went in as Granette and Olling crossed the hall, and he heard the closing of the drawing-room door. The servant’s footsteps clattered along the passage by the side of the staircase but not upstairs.
    The lamp on the landing spread a fair light into the office, showing the door of the safe. The Baron glanced round for the keys, without much hope, and then started to work on the safe. It was a combination lock, unlikely to give him much trouble.
    His ears were strained to catch the clicking of the tumblers, and any sound from downstairs. He turned the knob first right, then left, listening carefully and smiling as he heard the tumblers falling smoothly. Two years before a combination safe would have baffled him: now it was only a matter of time.
    He heard the final fall, and pulled open the safe. There was a wad of treasury notes inside, and he slipped them into his pocket, then picked up a leather wallet. He pressed his fingers against this, and felt half a dozen medium-sized gems inside. There was nothing else in the safe.
    He took some of the gems from the wallet, glancing expertly at the blue glow of sapphires, stolen two nights before from a merchant on the way to Hatton Garden. The police and the Press had both been searching for them.
    He replaced the sapphires, more cheerful even than he had been before, slipped the complete haul into his pocket, closed the safe door, and stepped back to the landing. The murmur of voices was still coming from the drawing-room, with Olling’s voice more high-pitched than usual. He reached the front door, opened it and walked to the porch.
    In the light of the street lamps he could see Rideway Drive, where Kelworthy’s house was situated, and the short carriageway with the gates wide open. He was still smiling when he leaned back and slammed the door.
    The crash reverberated through the house and along Rideway Drive. It was still echoing while the Baron reached the drive gates and swung left, taking off his mask as he went, his coat tails flying behind him.
    By the time he reached his car, a big Austin parked fifty yards away, Granette and Olling were at the gateway. They saw the red lights of the car, heard the whine of its engine and in the distance they thought they heard the Baron’s mocking laughter.
    Olling felt cold. Granette’s eyes were very narrow, and his lips were stretched tight and thin. In both their minds was the single thought: they must kill the Baron.
    Ten minutes later their malevolence reached its highest peak, for Kelworthy had discovered the rifled safe, and realised that the Baron had struck twice, in that sudden, devastating way that had made him notorious.
    Kelworthy stood by the open safe, his yellow teeth bared, his hands shaking with fury.
    â€œSee that—see that? Every penny in the house, and the Delawney sapphires – ten thousand pounds as well as the Isabella! Forty—thousand—pounds!” The words came in a whisper now, and Kelworthy looked white and ill. “We must get them back, Granette. We must get them back!”
    Olling muttered: “What about the police? The Isabella’s ours.”
    â€œThe moment we send for the police, I shall leave the syndicate,” Granette said.
    Kelworthy smoothed his stubbly chin.
    â€œGranette’s right, of course. We can’t go to the Yard, we’d never be free of them. We must handle this ourselves.”
    â€œBut—the Baron!” faltered Olling. “You heard him. He’s capable of doing what he threatened.”
    â€œHe