The Toff on Fire by John Creasey Page A

Galloway.”
    â€œWe will,” the man said. “Something went wrong at Rollison’s flat, I haven’t heard what, yet, but when I want you to worry, I’ll tell you.”
    Maggie didn’t smile. Her face had taken on a kind of impassiveness, and was very beautiful. With that slow, exciting walk, she crossed the room again, still drawing at the cigarette. The Austin was parked immediately outside the hotel, and she saw a man get into it and drive off. Before it was out of sight, the door bell of the apartment rang.
    She went across and opened it.
    â€œHi, Maggie,” a young man said, and came breezily into the room. “I’ve brought the prize packet. Ought to win a first in any show, I’d say.” He waited until she had closed the door, and then lifted the case, swinging it a little, as if he were going to toss it into the air.
    â€œDon’t!” exclaimed Maggie.
    â€œNow what’s the matter with you?” asked the young man cheerfully. “I thought you had nerves of steel.”
    â€œHe doesn’t want—it hurt.”
    â€œSo it better hadn’t be,” the young man said. “He’s got enough bad news coming to him, as it is.”
    Maggie asked sharply: “What’s gone wrong?”
    â€œThe Toff oddity had a slice of luck,” the other told her quietly. “His flat wasn’t burned and he’s still alive and kicking. He caught Galloway, too, and Galloway was good. The Doc won’t be too happy about that when he knows.”
    â€œWhy doesn’t he know already?”
    â€œSmith was with Galloway, and thought he was followed from Rollison’s flat, so he went to earth until he knew he was safe.”
    Maggie’s eyes, lacklustre until then, took on a kind of brightness.
    â€œThat’s what he must have meant when he said he was beginning to think that Rollison had a lucky star.” She watched the youth put the case down on a gold and green couch covered with a rich brocade, and saw him unfasten it. He pushed the lid back, and she took a step forward. “Is there anything else?” she asked.
    â€œPenn was caught doing this job.”
    â€œPenn,” she echoed.
    â€œThat’s right. Two keymen gone in one morning,” the young man said, in a subdued voice, but his movements weren’t subdued.
    â€œLeo, be careful,” Maggie said quickly, and moved forward.
    He was taking the baby out of the case as if it was a bundle of rags; and actually held it upside down. She took it from him, and he made a grimace of distaste, watching her as she lifted the child to a level with her face, and looked at its screwed-up eyes and its little snub nose, the bubbles at its lips.
    â€œIt’s okay, isn’t it?” Leo asked abruptly.
    â€œYes, it takes a lot to harm a baby,” Maggie said, slowly, and turned away from Leo, towards the bedroom. “I’m to keep it here until five o’clock, when he’ll send for it.”
    â€œAnd we shan’t know who he’ll send or where it’s going to be taken,” Leo observed, and lit a cigarette as he followed her. He watched as she put the child gently down in an armchair, and hemmed it in with cushions. “If the Doc ever fires you, you could get a job as a children’s nurse,” he said; “you look as if you’d hate to see it hurt. I say, Maggie.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œEver get fed up with the Doc?”
    She didn’t answer.
    â€œYou know what I mean,” said Leo, smoothly. “He takes us all for granted, doesn’t he—and he doesn’t really trust us an inch. Not a millimetre. We’re watched and followed, all our movements traced, sometimes I think that if I want to pet a girl I’d have to ask his permission. I just wondered whether you ever felt like some of the others—that he’s a bit too much of a good thing.”
    â€œYou get your money, don’t