Here Comes the Toff by John Creasey

a bride.
    Could that be serious? wondered the Toff.
    He had let Renway get away with it fairly easily so far, but as the other brought out sherry, and was obviously prepared to be expansive, Rollison put a few gentle, leading questions. He found Renway almost maudlin on the subject of women, although he did not make any direct personal comments.
    â€œYoung and old, all get it sooner or later,” said Rollison. “I suppose the older a man is the better his judgment as far as women are concerned. Particularly the woman he’s thinking of marrying.”
    Renway frowned.
    â€œYes, Rollison, you’re right. My nephew, now, the young fool. He’s getting himself tied up with a woman who won’t be the slightest use to him in the future. Oh, she’s pretty enough now, but she’s got no intelligence. It can’t be denied that intelligence is far more important than physical attraction.” Renway uttered the statement with the air of one who had thought of it before any of his fellow men, and went on worriedly: “It will have to stop. He’s spending too much money, far too much of my money. He doesn’t seem to appreciate the importance of conserving money, and …”, Renway broke off for a moment, and the Toff was almost afraid that the stream of confidences would dry up. But Renway went on slowly, and without prompting.
    â€œMoney doesn’t make money, Rollison, in spite of fools who like to think that adage worth following. Money means work, care, consideration, judging the right moment to sell, the right to buy. I resigned from several companies at a time when I considered they were on the down grade, and that their Board was not following a money-making policy. In each case I was proved right.”
    Rollison raised his eyebrows, and said with the air of a man inviting a confidence which he would regard as a favour: “Is that so, Renway? Can I take it as a hint?”
    Renway looked at him squarely.
    â€œWhat company are you interested in?”
    â€œI’m holding a big parcel of Bi-National Electric.”
    â€œOh …” Renway hesitated, and then rested a scrawny hand on Rollison’s arm. “Don’t worry about Bi-Nationals, they’re as safe as any industrials in the country. I retired from there for private reasons. But don’t run away with the idea that I’m finished with business, Rollison. I’ve heard it said that I’m retiring because I’m old. But the older the fox the craftier. I’ve something up my sleeve that people like Waterer won’t forget in a hurry. I’ve left business, but I’m coming back with a bang, and …”
    He broke off, abruptly, and to Rollison it seemed that he was almost frightened. He muttered something under his breath which was inaudible, and then added clearly: “All this is in the strictest confidence, Rollison. I’m sure I can rely on you.”
    â€œYou can, completely,” said the Toff, and his manner was sufficiently reassuring to make Renway relax.
    â€œExcellent, excellent! And I’ll forget the fact that you bought a cheap imitation of a de Rossi for the real thing, eh?” He laughed, and patted Rollison on the back, then suggested that they should go into his study where – he said – he kept the only sherry worth drinking in the house. “Amontillado, of course, on a par with yours, Rollison.”
    The Toff was interested in Amontillado just then only in so far as it might help to loosen Renway’s tongue, and he doubted whether it would. On the whole, however, he could not complain. He knew more about the domestic discord which was blowing up and a little about a new business venture which Renway wanted to keep secret.
    Which of those two things was of importance to Irma? Or was it those pictures?
    Renway opened the door of his study, and then stopped abruptly on the threshold. He hesitated, as if uncertain whether to go