Salvage for the Saint Read Online Free Page A

losses.”
    “Or is it taking your winnings?” Simon suggested mildly.
    “Ouch,” she winced. “I guess I asked for that. But yes, I’ll admit that as far as money’s concerned, I do want to get out with something to the good. Though whether you call it winnings or earnings is debatable. Now, to return to Fournier. First, there’s something about him I don’t like. But it’s more than personal dislike. He’s got some sort of hold over Charles. It’s as if Charles were knuckling under, and I don’t know why. Maybe Fournier’s blackmailing him— something in his past. And Charles’s past is something I know practically nothing about. He’s never talked about it, certainly not in any detail. Anyhow he’s certainly rattled. And I’m concerned. First in a human, or even if you like in a wifely way. I really don’t want anything bad to happen to him. And secondly, and you may think this is the bigger component in my concern, I have a financial stake in Charles and I want to look alter it.”
    “I think I get the picture,” Simon said, not without sympathy. “You’re afraid hubby may decide to do a bunk to escape the clutches of comrade Fournier, and you’re worried that if he does vamoose he may well get the bright idea of arranging for all the family shekels to vanish along with him, before you’ve had a chance to get your hands on your share.”
    “You put it with real delicacy,” she said sarcastically. “But that about sums it up. As I told you, I know next to nothing about his money, our money, or even how or where he keeps it. As things stand I get a regular allowance, but if Charles does cut and run before the divorce hearing, well, if I know him, he’ll take every brass farthing with him. Which will mean phut to my chances of a settlement. Before long I’d probably have to take a—a job.”
    She spoke the final word with a shudder.
    “An obscene idea, I agree,” said the Saint.
    “So,” she concluded. “That’s it. What I’d like you to do is to keep an eye on things. Maybe find out what’s going on between Fournier and Charles.”
    Simon maintained a neutral uncommitted manner.
    “And if they go off together after the race as planned, I suppose you want me to follow them? Or if Charles makes a run for it, you want me to follow him?”
    “That’s it.”
    She eyed him hopefully, but his gaze was studiously inscrutable.
    “If not for me, then for yourself,” she urged, trying another tack. “Fournier, now—he’s pretty obviously, I should say, one of those human excrescences you love to squash …”
    Again the hopeful glance. “Isn’t he?” she asked.
    The Saint’s inscrutability was still as politely impenetrable.
    “He’s a slug of a man,” she declared firmly.
    The bantering lift of a dark eyebrow gave nothing away.
    “A disgusting parasitical creature,” she continued. “A wart on the nose of humanity! A carbuncle on its neck! A lump of—”
    The Saint held up a restraining hand.
    ‘The trouble with you,” he said severely, “is that you’ve been reading too much of the stuff that fellow Charteris writes about me. But that’s by the way. On this occasion I happen to agree with you. If appearances are anything to go by, Fournier is indubitably a pluke of the first water.”
    “Quite,” she agreed, and then reverted to her other tack before he could recover his breath. “And what’s more, a fair settlement in the divorce court is my just right. And the court won’t even get a look in if Charles decamps with the stocks and bonds and whatnot. What say you, Simon? Will you help?”
    The Saint laughed, and the two pairs of candid blue eyes met again.
    “I’m on the case,” he said. “To tell you the truth, I’ve been on it since yesterday.”
    -3-
    In the ten minutes before she left the hotel, he told her what he had achieved so far.
    There wasn’t much to tell, since his limited labours had yet to bear fruit.
    It was on the previous day that he had