Salvage for the Saint Read Online Free

obscurely out of focus in his memory; and he wondered if some circumstantial detail might give him the clue he needed.
    “Just how long has Fournier been on the scene?” he asked Arabella.
    “Six days,” she told him. “He just turned up at the house one night. Our place is just along the road from here. Well, when this Fournier thing showed up that evening”— she wrinkled her nose in distaste—“Charles was obviously more than a tiny bit flabbergasted, and none too delighted either. It was over twelve years since they’d met. Anyway, he stayed to dinner—Mrs Cloonan’s a miracle-worker, she can always cope with a guest at the drop of a hat—and next morning there he was again at breakfast. That’s when Charles told me Fournier’d be staying till after the race, and then the two of them’d be going off on business together for a few days. And ever since, Fournier’s hardly let Charles out of his sight. Except today.”
    “What happened today?”
    “Charles gave him the slip for a few hours, after the scrutineers had finished their main stint this afternoon. Charles took the boat out on his own, and he didn’t come back till the evening.”
    The Saint digested the information thoughtfully.
    “I suppose he didn’t say where he’d been?”
    “No. Just ‘out in the boat’. I could see Fournier was livid when he’d discovered Charles had gone, but he calmed down later.”
    “When he saw that Charles had come back?”
    “That’s the way I read it.”
    “Hmmm. Any idea what this joint business of theirs might be?”
    ‘To do with his investments or something like that, I guess. I didn’t ask.” She shrugged. “I enjoy helping to spend Charles’s money, but I’ve never quizzed him about how he makes it. I only know he doesn’t actually have to do much … But Simon, now that you’re on the case—and you are on the case, aren’t you?” She broke off and eyed him hopefully, and then went straight on without waiting for an answer:
    —now that you’re on the case there’s something I should tell you. Charles and I, we’re getting a divorce soon.”
    “I shan’t pretend to be surprised,” Simon told her quietly. “I’ve seen the two of you together, and you don’t exactly radiate marital harmony and contentment, if I may say so. But I suppose this has nothing directly to do with Fournier’s intrusion into the household?”
    “I’m not citing him as co-respondent, if that’s what you mean!” She laughed, but this time it was a rather more brittle laughter. “No, there are plenty enough contenders for that honour already. And save your sympathy, Simon,” she added quickly. “I’m at least half to blame. I guess the whole thing was a mistake from the start.”
    “How long has it been?” he asked gently.
    “Four years.”
    “And he’s—twice your age?”
    “He was, then. But that’s not really the problem. I liked him okay. But I liked his money too, in about equal degree.”
    Simon expostulated mildly.
    “Oh, come on. Aren’t you being a bit hard on yourself? You’re making yourself sound like a cold-hearted little gold-digger, while I’m sure you’re not.”
    “Well … maybe not so cold-hearted.” She looked at him for what seemed a long time; one pair of blue eyes candidly searching another. “But as I’ve told you, I have expensive tastes. I like money and I like men with a lot of it. Charles fitted the bill. It wasn’t enough though.”
    She smiled wryly, and for a little while her eyes were clouded with an unreadable wistfulness. Then the Saint said:
    “What about his reasons for getting in tow with you?”
    She laughed the brittle laugh again.
    “They were as shallow as mine. Basically, he wanted, if you’ll forgive me, an attractive wife, something reasonably decorative to be seen on his arm at Brands Hatch and Le Mans and Cowes. But Charles’ll always be a womaniser, anyhow. So, all things considered, I’m for getting out of the game and cutting my