Saint Goes West Read Free Page B

hard enough.”
    Simon coughed discreetly.
    “Angelo is in charge,” he said, “and I’m going to turn in.”
    “What, so soon?” pouted Esther. “Let’s all have another drink first. I know, let’s have a game of strip poker.”
    “I’m sorry,” said the Saint. “I’m not so young as I was this afternoon. I’m going to get some sleep.”
    “I thought you were supposed to be a bodyguard,” said Ginny.
    The Saint smiled.
    “I am, darling. I guard Freddie’s body.”
    “Freddie’s passed out. You ought to keep us company.”
    “It’s all so silly,” Lissa said. “I’m not scared. We haven’t anything to be afraid of. Even if that note was serious, it’s Freddie they’re after. Nobody’s going to do anything to us.”
    “How do you know they won’t get into the wrong room?” Esther objected.
    “You can hang a sign on your door,” Simon suggested, “giving them directions. Goodnight, pretty maidens.”
    He made his exit before there could be any more discusнsion, and went to his bedroom.
    The bedrooms trailed away from the house in a long L-shaped wing. Freddie’s room was at the far end of the wing, and his door faced down the broad, screened verandah by which the rooms were reached. Simon had the room next to it, from which one of the girls had been moved: their rooms were now strung around the angle of the L towards the main building. There was a communicating door on both sides of his room. He tried the one which should have opened in to Freddie’s room, but he found that there was a second door backing closely against it, and that one was locked. He went around by the verandah, and found Angelo preparing to turn out the lights.
    “He sleep well now,” said the Filipino with a grin. “You no worry.”
    Freddie was neatly tucked into bed, his clothes carefully folded over a chair. Simon went over and looked at him. He certainly wasn’t dead at that point-his snoring was stertoнrously alive.
    The Saint located the other side of the communicating door, and tried the handle. It still wouldn’t move, and there was no key in the lock.
    “D’you know how to open this, Angelo?” he asked. The Filipino shook his head. “Don’t know. Is lock?”
    “Is lock.”
    “I never see key. Maybe somewhere.”
    “Maybe,” Simon agreed.
    It didn’t look like a profitable inquiry to pursue much further, and Simon figured that it probably didn’t matter. He still hadn’t developed any real conviction of danger over shadowing the house, and at that moment the idea seemed particularly far-fetched. He went out of the room, and the Filipino switched off the light.
    “Everything already lock up, sir. You no worry. I go to sleep now.”
    “Happy dreams,” said the Saint.
    He returned to his own room, and undressed and rolled into bed. He felt in pretty good shape, but he didn’t want to start the next day with an unnecessary headache. He was likely to have enough other headaches without that. Aside from the drinking pace and the uninhibited feminine hazнards, he felt that a day would come when Freddie Pellman’s conversational style would cease to hold him with the same eager fascination that it created at the first encounter. Evenнtually, he felt, a thousand dollars a day would begin to seem like a relatively small salary for listening to Freddie talk. But that was something that could be faced when the time came. Maybe he would be able to explain it to Freddie and get a raise….
    With that he fell asleep. He didn’t know how long it lasted, but it was deep and relaxed. And it ended with an electrifyнing suddenness that was as devastating as the collapse of a tall tower of porcelain. But the sound was actually a little different. It was a shrill shattering scream that brought him wide awake in an instant and had him on his feet while the echo was still ringing in his ears.
    3
THERE WAS ENOUGH starlight outside for the windows to be rectangles of silver, but inside the room he was only just