Cry For the Baron Read Online Free Page B

back?” Gordon demanded.
    â€œWhat should I keep back?”
    â€œWe can never tell, with you,” Gordon said. “Are you sure Bernstein had the Tear on the premises?”
    â€œYes.” Through the cotton wool Mannering felt something hard. The Tear? Or another jewel? He let the pages fall flat again, and kept the book on his knees while Gordon went to the safe; the keys were in the lock.
    â€œDid Bernstein keep a record of what he had here?”
    â€œI think so. In a little black loose-leaf book.”
    â€œSee if you can see it on the desk, will you?” asked Gordon, and began to take the jewel-cases out of the safe. Mannering left the book on the chair and went to the desk, but he wasn’t interested in the little black book. What should he do if he found the Tear? Hand it over? It would be held until Jacob’s will was proved. Eventually the Tear would be sold, presumably at a public auction.
    A man – or woman – wanted it badly.
    Bernstein had told him that he was to have a visitor about the diamond; little doubt that the visitor had come and killed him but – had he found the Tear? If not – could it be used to trap the murderer?
    He found the little black book and took it to Gordon, who gripped Mannering’s arm without warning, looked straight into his eyes, and demanded: “Who was the girl? Out with it—who was the girl?”
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Chapter Four
The Will
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    Gordon’s fingers were big and strong, and pressed painfully into Mannering’s forearm. Two of the other men looked up. Mannering said: “Now what’s on your mind?” but made no attempt to free himself.
    â€œWho was the girl who was here when you came?”
    â€œThere was no girl here when I arrived.”
    â€œThe constable said he saw a girl leave this place a few minutes before you shouted for him.”
    â€œHe may be right.”
    â€œIf he’s right she was here when you arrived, because he didn’t see her come in—and you must have arrived before he turned the corner. Your car was here. That girl must have been here. You’ve told us what time you got here, how long it was before you sent for us. Twenty minutes—remember? It takes the constable twenty-five minutes to do this street, both sides. When he tried the door here it was locked. You’ve made one of your mistakes—who was the girl?”
    â€œWhere was the constable when he saw her?”
    â€œAt the corner.”
    â€œCare to come for a walk?” asked Mannering.
    â€œI want the truth out of you!”
    â€œI want to get at the truth. Gordon, you know I didn’t kill Bernstein, and you also know you can’t stop me trying to find the killer. Come and see whether the constable can be sure that a girl left this house.”
    Gordon said: “He is sure.”
    â€œAll right, let’s see if we can shake his confidence.”
    Gordon let him go. “Bristow will probably be here soon, we’ll see what he has to say.”
    The Yard man turned back to the safe and began to consult the little black book. Mannering returned to his chair, picked up the book and opened it near the front, where the leaves weren’t cut. He began to fiddle with the leaves again until he could feel the shiny surface of the hidden stone. He fingered the cotton wool.
    Soon he was able to feel the hard surface of the stone. With the book half open he felt round the wool with his fingers, gradually prizing the jewel up. At last he held it between his thumb and forefinger. The book was half-open now – if anyone looked his way they would surely wonder what he was doing. Seconds mattered.
    The jewel was tear-shaped.
    Gordon turned and growled: “Was his writing always as bad as this?” He looked into Mannering’s face, and his gaze didn’t fall to the book.
    â€œYes. He was an old man, you know.”
    Gordon grunted and turned away. Mannering kept the jewel