Читать книгу A King by Night онлайн

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"He came to ask for a job," said Marcus Fleet volubly. "I used to know him years ago, and I always like to help a man if it is humanly possible."

At the first note of the alarm, Locks had slipped the money from his pocket and dropped it into an open drawer of the financier's desk. This Mr. Fleet had seen out of the corner of his eye, and noted, too, the dexterity with which the burglar had closed the drawer with his foot.

"Now I'm going to be perfectly straight with you, Locks," said Timms. He was the blunt, honest type of police officer that very rarely reaches the front rank of the profession. "I've been 'tailing you up' all morning. You're living at Southdown Street, Lambeth; you were out last night, and last night the Duchess of Leaport lost jewellery worth twelve thousand pounds. We've searched your rooms, and you haven't had a chance of getting rid of the stuff this morning, that I'll swear."

"Neither the chance nor the inclination," said Locks reproachfully. "I'm surprised at you, inspector! I was out last night because I'm the victim of insomnia and couldn't sleep. I didn't go near"—he corrected himself quickly, and the pause was almost indistinguishable to the detective and his assistant—"the West End of London."