The Greek Who Stole Christmas Read Free Page B

Christmas presents?” I asked.
    “Why would I care about Christmas presents? I’ve got everything I want already.” She realized she was still holding the half-cracker that she had pulled with her husband when we came in. “And I don’t like these stupid crackers either,” she went on. “They were sent up to the room by some fan or someone and all they’ve given me is a headache. As far as I’m concerned, the best thing to do with Christmas would be to forget the whole thing.”
    She threw down the cracker. A silver acorn and a slip of paper rolled out onto the table.
    I don’t know what it was that made me pick up the piece of paper. Maybe after Minerva’s little speech I needed a laugh. Or maybe there was something about it that whispered to me that actually it didn’t belong in a cracker. Anyway, I unfolded it and sure enough there was the same blue ink as the letter, the same typeface. There were just two lines.
    WHEN MINERVA SEES THE LIGHTS
THAT’S WHEN I’LL HAVE HER IN MY SIGHTS
    I read it out.
    “I don’t get it,” Tim said. “It’s not very funny…”
    “It’s not a joke, Tim!” I exclaimed. “It’s another death threat.”
    “But that’s impossible!” Harold seized the piece of paper and held it with a shaking hand. “How did this get inside the cracker?” he demanded. He stared at Jake Hammill. “You brought them up here!” he continued accusingly. “What’s going on?”
    “I just picked them up from reception!” Hammill replied. “They said they’d been left in your name by a fan.”
    “What does it mean?” Minerva asked. Her voice had gone quiet.
    Nobody spoke – so I did. “It must mean tomorrow,” I said. “When you turn on the Christmas lights.” I picked up the acorn. It was heavy – solid silver, maybe. “And look at this,” I said.
    “An acorn…” Tim was puzzled.
    “Off an
oak
tree, Tim,” I said. “They’re telling you who it came from.”
    “Of course!” Harold Chase stood up. He was shaking so much, I was worried something was going to fall off. “That’s it,” he said. “We’re not going to turn on the lights. Forget it. We’re not going anywhere near them.”
    “Harold…” Hammill began.
    “I mean it, Jake.”
    “Forget it, Harold!” Minerva had also got to her feet. “Look – I’ve already promised. I’m going to turn on these stupid lights. I’ve got to be there: the Mayor of London is coming. All the press will be out. It’s going to be a big event.”
    “It’ll be an even bigger event if someone shoots you,” I muttered.
    Tim turned to me. “That’s a terrible thing to say, Nick!” He thought for a moment. “Anyway, they might not shoot her. They might run her over or blow her up or possibly fix the wires so she gets electrocuted…”
    Minerva had gone a little pale. “Do you think you can protect me, Mr Diamond?” she asked.
    Tim smiled. “I’m the private eye who never blinks,” he replied. “And from this moment I’m not going to let you out of my sight. I’m going to walk with you, eat with you and go to bed with you—”
    “Hey! Wait a minute! I’m in the bed!” Harold interrupted.
    “We have a four-poster,” Minerva said.
    “That’s great,” Tim said. “We can have one post each.”
    Jake Hammill stepped forward. “I think Minerva will be safe enough while she’s here at the Porchester hotel,” he said. “Suppose Mr Diamond joins us tomorrow evening on the way to Regent Street?”
    Minerva nodded. “I’m staying in all day tomorrow. That’ll be fine.”
    “That just leaves the question of your fee, Mr Diamond,” Hammill continued.
    “No question about it,” Tim said. “I want one.”
    “Of course.” Hammill blinked uncertainly. “We’ll pay you two hundred pounds a day. But let’s get one thing straight. If anyone takes a shot at Minerva, we’ll expect you to step in front of the bullet.”
    “Don’t worry!” Tim jerked a thumb at me. “That’s what he’s for.”
    So