by John Creasey
“Well, Tom boy, they caught me red-handed. I know I’m an old rascal, but the time’s come to tell the cops you only did whatever you did because Sangster blackmailed you. You’ll be in the clear, Tom boy, don’t you fret. And that’s only one of the things I’ll tell them when I turn Queen’s Evidence …” He went on, as cunning and crafty as ever.
Forrester was out of the taxi, now, and saying: “What’s going on?” He glared at Bristow. “Why did you try to keep me away? Who the hell are you to think I can’t handle my own affairs?”
“That’s right, Tom boy,” said old Fred. “Give it to them.” He cackled with laughter. “It wasn’t until your double shook the living daylight out of me that I realised you had a double. He really fooled me.”
“Double!” exclaimed Joslin.
“Did you keep the real Forrester away?” Willison asked Bristow, his voice suddenly cold.
“Yes, I did. I’ll go into details later,” Bristow said. “The first task is to find Lorna Mannering. I want to go to Sangster’s house.”
In the silence which followed, while Willison was making up his mind how to respond, Sangster’s ranting sounded nearer, the raving of a man who was out of his mind, who might have killed Lorna before he had left his home that day. Had Mannering known that he had been on a knife edge between sanity and madness he would never had taken the chance of waiting. If Lorna was dead – the fear was like a knife thrust in his breast.
Then the driver of the car which had brought Willison and Bristow leaned out of the open door.
“Message just in from Information, sir. Our chaps have found Mrs. Mannering in a room in Sir Gordon Sangster’s house. Mrs. Sangster isn’t there, sir. Will you—”
Willison was already moving towards the car, and Bristow was close behind him.
Mannering rolled over so that he could not be seen, relaxing while relief surged through him in enormous waves. After the shock ending of the suspense, he felt both weak and sick but a few minutes later his heart was racing with exhilaration. He moved back further from the edge and crept across the roof-tops. Someone was thudding nearby, probably the police trying to open the attic hatch. He moved gingerly until he was a dozen houses away, and did exactly as he had when he had last been on these roofs. This time no one saw him; or at least, no one called out. He dropped into the service alley and ran to Wandsworth Bridge Road, near the shops. The parade was thronged with people but no one took any notice of him. He drove the long way round to the garage, sat in the car and cleaned off the greasepaint with pure alcohol kept in the garage for that purpose, loosened the gum and pulled off the extra hair. Looking much more like himself, he left the car in the garage and walked towards Chelsea.
A taxi came along, from behind him, and stopped at his call. He sat comfortably until they reached Green Street, where he paid off the taxi and went up to his own flat. No one was on the landing, no one was inside. He went up to the attic studio, took off the rest of the makeup, and then went down and changed into a dark suit. He had just finished, and for the first time relaxed completely, when there was a ring at the front door bell; next moment came the sound of a key in the lock. He was in the hall when the door opened and a policeman came in with Lorna only a pace behind him; and on the instant she saw Mannering.
She looked pale and tired but unhurt: “John,” she said. “Oh, John! Thank God!”
At Riston Street, Willison, who seemed aloof and almost hostile with Bristow, finished searching Number 17 and then went across to Number 20. When there was no answer, he had one of his men force a window, and climb in. Stiff and horrified, Paget was exactly where Mannering had left him. When he learned that both old Fred and Bruce Sangster were under arrest he began to talk freely.
He had been forced to do what he had, he claimed; he had been blackmailed, he hadn’t had a chance …
“You’ll have a chance to tell all that to a judge and jury,” Willison said. He gave orders for this little house to be searched, and then went across to Number 17, where Bristow was in the downstairs front room, checking over the jewels. As if indifferent to Willison’s coldness which verged on hostility, he looked up and nodded with satisfaction.
“Undoubtedly the Fioras,” he pronounced. “Only two pieces missing, both of them rings, when we add these to the other lot. I suggested to Joslin that your chaps should search upstairs.”
“And no doubt my chaps did exactly what you advised – as if they were your chaps. Bill—” Willison made the name sound as if it were chilled—“do you know who doubled for Tom Forrester?”
“No,” Bristow replied.
“Can you guess?”
“Anyone can guess,” Bristow retorted.
Willison said distantly. “I guess that it was Mannering. I’ve done a lot of guessing in the last day or two. Some people would call it deducing.” Willison drew in his breath. “But for the impersonator we might never have caught the men we did. I’m beginning to see how you and he used to work together. Give him a message for me, will you?”
“Yes,” Bristow said.
“Thank you. It’s simply this. I don’t propose to try to rake up the past. But if he ever becomes involved in criminal activity, no matter how good the motive, and if I can prove it, I’d handle him with no more leniency than I will Sangster.”
The two men, Bristow so upright, grey-haired and clean-cut; Willison with his fair hair, fair eyebrows, almost colourless eyes, stared at each other; and Willison went on: “Don’t let him make any mistake, will you? And don’t make any mistake yourself. A retired police officer would get less mercy from the law than anyone else.”
Bristow said, very quietly: “I came to realise that sometimes you get more justice if you bend the law. Think about that, will you?” There was a long silence between them, one which neither broke, for Tom Forrester came running down the stairs, angry as ever.
“Someone’s stolen four of my self-portraits! There’s something to get back, they’re a damned sight more valuable than a few odds and ends of jewellery!”
Bristow was taken aback.
Willison said coldly: “A witness, Clive Arnold Paget, has accused you of stealing certain artist’s materials, and of conspiring to pass off known fakes for signed old masters. I must ask you for a statement, Mr. Forrester.”
Something in his glinting eyes stifled the protest on Forrester’s lips.
By the time his statement was ready, including an admission about the painting materials taken from an art school, but a denial of the rest, the police had begun a thorough search of the treasure house in the strong room at Sangster House. Bristow knew enough to be quite sure that either Sangster or his son had been replacing genuine works of art with copies, and building up fortunes in overseas banks. His wife, young and pretty, broke down under questioning and explained why: “His father had disowned him,” she said. “They’d come to hate each other. That—” there were tears in her eyes as she went on: “That’s the only reason Bruce didn’t kill him, why he had to keep him alive. Once he was dead, all the treasures would go to museums and publicly owned art galleries, and the substitutions would be found out.”
Sangster himself, kept under opiates, was too ill to speak, but it was soon obvious that his son learned that the old man had acquired the Fioras knowing them to have been stolen. Bruce in turn had stolen them, and tried to find a market, but the ordinary fences were too nervous, and Mannering had seemed just right. With good nursing the old man began to recover, but even when he heard what his son had done over the years he made no comment. It was as if he had cut Bruce not only out of his will, but out of his mind. He did not live long enough to be charged with possessing stolen jewels.
At the trial, Bruce Sangster was found guilty of murder and sentenced to life imprisonment. Old Fred was given five years imprisonment, which was for him ‘life’, for attempted murder by using a fire-arm, and conspiracy to dispose of jewels knowing them to be stolen. Paget was sentenced to five years for his insurance frauds. Forre
ster, who gave Queen’s Evidence, was not charged, but he became a central figure at the trial. As a result when the first exhibitions of his paintings was held, hundreds stood in line to visit, and little red ‘sold’ stickers soon began to appear on picture after picture. There were some complaints from the elderly, for the exhibition was held at Riston Street.
“There isn’t a better place to show just what they’re like,” Lorna said to Tom Forrester.
“Oh, I agree,” Forrester said, “but if only the young and physically fit can get upstairs, that’s a damned shame. Art belongs to everyone, not just to the few.” He glared as if accusingly at the Mannerings.
“John,” Lorna turned to Mannering, who was by her side, “isn’t there some way of enabling everybody to go upstairs?”
“I think we could put in a hoist, worked with a small electric motor, or even by hand,” Mannering answered.
After the third week, there was nothing left to sell, but Forrester began to paint with furious haste, little gems which he flung off as if they were sparks from a hammer on an anvil. These sparks seemed to strike into Julie’s, eyes, and make them radiant. She was here, there and everywhere, at the little house, although Forrester seemed to take her no less for granted.
“Yet she couldn’t be more happy,” Lorna said, as they left, one day towards the end of the exhibition. “I’ve a feeling that he might make love to a thousand women, but only be in love with her.”
“The perfect husband,” Mannering said straight-faced; and a moment later the sparks began to fly from Lorna’s eyes. She was still looking at her radiant best when they reached Quinns. There, Rupert Smith and young Armitage were like Edwardian twins, each deeply immersed in a customer’s needs. Bristow was behind the carved partition, examining some jewels with the help of a watchmaker’s glass.
Life was back to normal at the little shop of great renown.
Series Information
Published or to be published by
House of Stratus
Dates given are those of first publication
Alternative titles in brackets
‘The Baron’ (47 titles) (writing as Anthony Morton)
‘Department ‘Z’’ (28 titles)
‘Dr. Palfrey Novels’ (34 titles)
‘Gideon of Scotland Yard’ (22 titles)
‘Inspector West’ (43 titles)
‘Sexton Blake’ (5 titles)
‘The Toff’ (59 titles)
along with:
The Masters of Bow Street
This epic novel embraces the story of the Bow Street Runners and the Marine Police, forerunners of the modern police force, who were founded by novelist Henry Fielding in 1748. They were the earliest detective force operating from the courts to enforce the decisions of magistrates. John Creasey’s account also gives a fascinating insight into family life of the time and the struggle between crime and justice, and ends with the establishment of the Metropolitan Police after the passing of Peel’s Act in 1829.
‘The Baron’ Series
These Titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels
Meet the Baron (The Man in the Blue Mask) (1937)
The Baron Returns (The Return of the Blue Mask) (1937)
The Baron Again (Salute Blue Mask) (1938)
The Baron at Bay (Blue Mask at Bay) (1938)
Alias the Baron (Alias Blue Mask) (1939)
The Baron at Large (Challenge Blue Mask!) (1939)
Versus the Baron (Blue Mask Strikes Again) (1940)
Call for the Baron (Blue Mask Victorious) (1940)
The Baron Comes Back (1943)
A Case for the Baron (1945)
Reward for the Baron (1945)
Career for the Baron (1946)
Blood Diamond (The Baron and the Beggar) (1947)
Blame the Baron (1948)
A Rope for the Baron (1948)
Books for the Baron (1949)
Cry for the Baron (1950)
Trap the Baron (1950)
Attack the Baron (1951)
Shadow the Baron (1951)
Warn the Baron (1952)
The Baron Goes East (1953)
The Baron in France (1953)
Danger for the Baron (1953)
The Baron Goes Fast (1954)
Nest-Egg for the Baron (Deaf, Dumb and Blonde) (1954)
Help from the Baron (1955)
Hide the Baron (1956)
The Double Frame (Frame the Baron) (1957)
Blood Red (Red Eye for the Baron) (1958)
If Anything Happens to Hester (Black for the Baron) (1959)
Salute for the Baron (1960)
The Baron Branches Out (A Branch for the Baron) (1961)
The Baron and the Stolen Legacy (Bad for the Baron) (1962)
A Sword for the Baron (The Baron and the Mogul Swords) (1963)
The Baron on Board (The Mask of Sumi) (1964)
The Baron and the Chinese Puzzle (1964)
Sport for the Baron (1966)
Affair for the Baron (1967)
The Baron and the Missing Old Masters (1968)
The Baron and the Unfinished Portrait (1969)
Last Laugh for the Baron (1970)
The Baron Goes A-Buying (1971)
The Baron and the Arrogant Artist (1972)
Burgle the Baron (1973)
The Baron - King Maker (1975)
Love for the Baron (1979)
Doctor Palfrey Novels
These Titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels
Traitor’s Doom (1942)
The Legion of the Lost (1943)
The Valley of Fear (The Perilous Country) (1943)
Dangerous Quest (1944)
Death in the Rising Sun (1945)
The Hounds of Vengeance (1945)
Shadow of Doom (1946)
The House of the Bears (1946)
Dark Harvest (1947)
The Wings of Peace (1948)
The Sons of Satan (1948)
The Dawn of Darkness (1949)
The League of Light (1949)
The Man Who Shook the World (1950)
The Prophet of Fire (1951)
The Children of Hate (The Killers of Innocence; The Children of Despair) (1952)
The Touch of Death (1954)
The Mists of Fear (1955)
The Flood (1956)
The Plague of Silence (1958)
Dry Spell (The Drought) (1959)
The Terror (1962)
The Depths (1963)
The Sleep (1964)
The Inferno (1965)
The Famine (1967)
The Blight (1968)
The Oasis (1970)
The Smog (1970)
The Unbegotten (1971)
The Insulators (1972)
The Voiceless Ones (1973)
The Thunder-Maker (1976)
The Whirlwind (1979)
Gideon Series
(Writing as JJ Marric)
These Titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels
Gideon’s Day (Gideon of Scotland Yard) (1955)
Seven Days to Death (Gideon’s Week) (1956)
Gideon’s Night (1957)
A Backwards Jump (Gideon’s Month) (1958)
Thugs and Economies (Gideon’s Staff) (1959)
Gideon Combats Influence (Gideon’s Risk) (1960)
Gideon’s Fire (1961)
A Conference for Assassins (Gideon’s March) (1962)
Travelling Crimes (Gideon’s Ride) (1963)
An Uncivilised Election (Gideon’s Vote) (1964)
Criminal Imports (Gideon’s Lot) (1965)
To Nail a Serial Killer (Gideon’s Badge) (1966)
From Murder to a Cathedral (Gideon’s Wrath) (1967)
Gideon’s River (1968)
Darkness and Confusion (Gideon’s Power) (1969)
Sport, Heat & Scotland Yard (Gideon’s Sport) (1970)
Gideon’s Art (1971)
No Relaxat
ion at Scotland Yard (Gideon’s Men) (1972)
Impartiality Against the Mob (Gideon’s Press) (1973)
Not Hidden by the Fog (Gideon’s Fog) (1975)
Good and Justice (Gideon’s Drive) (1976)
Vigilantes & Biscuits (Gideon’s Force) (1978)
Inspector West Series
These Titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels
Inspector West Takes Charge (1942)
Go Away to Murder (Inspector West Leaves Town) (1943)
An Apostle of Gloom (Inspector West At Home) (1944)
Inspector West Regrets (1945)
Holiday for Inspector West (1946)
Battle for Inspector West (1948)
The Case Against Paul Raeburn (Triumph for Inspector West) (1948)
Inspector West Kicks Off (Sport for Inspector West) (1949)
Inspector West Alone (1950)
Inspector West Cries Wolf (The Creepers) (1950)
The Figure in the Dusk (A Case for Inspector West) (1951)
The Dissemblers (Puzzle for Inspector West) (1951)
The Case of the Acid Throwers (The Blind Spot; Inspector West at Bay) (1952)
Give a Man a Gun (A Gun for Inspector West) (1953)
Send Inspector West (1953)
So Young, So Cold, So Fair (A Beauty for Inspector West; The Beauty Queen Killer) (1954)
Murder Makes Haste (Inspector West Makes Haste; The Gelignite Gang; Night of the Watchman) (1955)
Murder: One, Two, Three (Two for Inspector West) (1955)
Death of a Postman (Parcels for Inspector West) (1956)
Death of an Assassin (A Prince for Inspector West) (1956)
Hit and Run (Accident for Inspector West) (1957)
The Trouble at Saxby’s (Find Inspector West; Doorway to Death) (1957)
Murder, London - New York (1958)
Strike for Death (The Killing Strike) (1958)
Death of a Racehorse (1959)
The Case of the Innocent Victims (1959)
Murder on the Line (1960)
Death in Cold Print (1961)
The Scene of the Crime (1961)
