Thunder in Europe by John Creasey

Author:John Creasey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ipso Books

The house called Castleton, in Heath Road, Hampstead, was one of the older residences in that salubrious neighbourhood, and it was a solid, unpretentious building of red bricks and grey stone, standing in about an acre of well-kept garden.

Burke had decided that in visiting Nathaniel Smethwick he could safely describe himself as a police agent coming to discuss the outrage in the London office.

He had asked Craigie for help because he felt that the future activities would be fraught with more than usual danger, and a lone hand was inviting trouble. The lid was right off now, and the fighting wouldn’t cease until one side or the other had won.

Davidson accompanied him to the house, while Bob Curtis sat at the wheel of a Rolls outside. None of them were expecting to meet trouble at Castleton, but all three were prepared for emergency.

Burke knocked on the heavy iron knocker. After a short pause, footsteps echoed inside the house. A hard-faced woman, dressed in servant’s black, opened the door and stared uncompromisingly at the callers.

‘Mr. Smethwick?’ asked Burke pleasantly.

‘Not seeing anyone,’ snapped the woman.

‘Now that’s a pity,’ said Burke, realising that soft-soap would be of little use.

‘Kindly remove your foot,’ snapped the woman coldly, ‘and learn to take no for an answer, young man.’

‘Well,’ said Burke, gazing with astonishment at his foot, which was jammed against the door. ‘Fancy that.’ His voice hardened. ‘Tell Mr. Smethwick that two police officers want to see him. And hurry.’

The woman’s thin face relaxed. Burke was prepared to swear that she looked frightened. Then:

‘But he’s ill, sir.’

‘I know,’ said Burke. ‘He’s not too ill to see us.’

He walked past the servant into a square and drably furnished hall. Davidson followed him. The woman pointed to a settee.

‘I’ll see him,’ she said grudgingly.

Burke grinned at Davidson as her straight back turned on them. Mr. Smethwick’s housekeeper—he assumed—was not a sunshine lady. Nor did the furnishing of the hall suggest that its owner was managing director of a prominent steel firm which had shown substantial profits on the year’s trading. And then he wondered how much was due to Smethwick, and how much its dreariness owed to the tight-lipped woman.

A door opened, leading from a room at the front of the house to the hall. The housekeeper had gone up the narrow stairs, and Burke wondered whether Smethwick himself would appear.

The tall, distinguished-looking grey-haired man who entered the hall paused for a moment, and then stood stock still.

‘Well,’ murmured Burke, smiling frostily, ‘if it isn’t Mr. Hemming!’

Mr. Bart Hemming, American and friend of Patricia Carris, recovered quickly from his surprise, and advanced slowly, smiling easily and with calm assurance into the grim face of the big man.

Wally Davidson widened his eyes, looked wise, and looked on.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.