The Franchise Affair Read Free

or an offence against the traffic laws. Since the case involved Marion Sharpe, it would be the latter; but it made no difference because in neither case was Blair, Hayward, and Bennet likely to be interested. He would pass her on to Carley, the bright lad at the other end of the street, who revelled in court cases and was popularly credited with the capacity to bail the Devil out of hell. (“Bail him out!” someone said, one night at the Rose and Crown. “He’d do more than that. He’d get all our signatures to a guinea testimonial to the Old Sinner.”)
    â€œIf it is your car—”
    â€œCar?” she said, vaguely; as if in her present world it was difficult to remember what a car was. “Oh, I see. No. Oh, no, it isn’t anything like that. It is something much more serious. It’s Scotland Yard.”
    â€œScotland Yard!”
    To that douce country lawyer and gentleman, Robert Blair, Scotland Yard was as exotic as Xanadu, Hollywood, or parachuting. As a good citizen he was on comfortable terms with the local police, and there his connection with crime ended. The nearest he had ever come to Scotland Yard was to play golf with the local Inspector; a good chap who played a very steady game and occasionally, when it came to the nineteenth, expanded into mild indiscretions about his job.
    â€œI haven’t murdered anyone, if that is what you are thinking,” the voice said hastily.
    â€œThe point is: are you supposed to have murdered anyone?” Whatever she was supposed to have done this was clearly a case for Carley. He must edge her off on to Carley.
    â€œNo; it isn’t murder at all. I’m supposed to have kidnapped someone. Or abducted them, or something. I can’t explain over the telephone. And anyhow I need someone now, at once, and—”
    â€œBut, you know, I don’t think it is me you need at all,” Robert said. “I know practically nothing about criminal law. My firm is not equipped to deal with a case of that sort. The man you need—”
    â€œI don’t want a criminal lawyer. I want a friend. Someone who will stand by me and see that I am not put-upon. I mean, tell me what I need not answer if I don’t want to, and that sort of thing. You don’t need a training in crime for that, do you?”
    â€œNo, but you would be much better served by a firm who were used to police cases. A firm that—”
    â€œWhat you are trying to tell me is that this is not ‘your cup of tea’; that’s it, isn’t it?”
    â€œNo, of course not,” Robert said hastily. “I quite honestly feel that you would be wiser—”
    â€œYou know what I feel like?” she broke in. “I feel like someone drowning in a river because she can’t drag herself up the bank, and instead of giving me a hand you point out that the other bank is much better to crawl out on.”
    There was a moment’s silence.
    â€œBut on the contrary,” Robert said, “I can provide you with an expert puller-out-of-rivers; a great improvement on my amateur self, I assure you. Benjamin Carley knows more about defending accused persons than anyone between here and—”
    â€œWhat! That awful little man with the striped suits!” Her deep voice ran up and cracked, and there was another momentary silence. “I am sorry,” she said presently in her normal voice. “That was silly. But you see, when I rang you up just now it wasn’t because I thought you would be clever about things” (” Warn’t it, indeed,” thought Robert) “but because I was in trouble and wanted the advice of someone of my own sort. And youlooked my sort. Mr. Blair, do please come. I need you now . There are people from Scotland Yard here in the house. And if you feel that it isn’t something you want to be mixed up in you could always pass it on to someone else afterwards; couldn’t you?