The Toff In New York Read Online Free

off.
    Valerie put the receiver down slowly, and moved away from the bed, but this time she did not go near the window. She had no idea how long the caller would be; ‘at once’ might mean almost any time within the next half-hour. Or longer? She just didn’t know; but she was much more frightened now.
    What had he meant by ‘trouble’? By big trouble.
    It seemed part of a pattern. Wilf missing, Conway and Halloran out to impress her and win her confidence, and now this. She found herself looking at the door; moving towards it; and when she heard a sound outside, she actually wrenched it open to see who was there.
    It was a stranger, but she didn’t think it was the man who had telephoned. She had seen this man before, and anyhow there was no sense of urgency about him. He was tall and startlingly good-looking. He had an air. He was smiling as he strolled towards the door from the corner of the passage, and he seemed to be too far away to have made the sound which she had heard. His face was tanned, his grey eyes were very bright and somehow very gay.
    She stood staring.
    He paused. “Hallo,” he said; “can I help you?”
    Valerie said: “No!” much more explosively than she had meant to, and drew back sharply. She didn’t see what happened to his smile, did not even have time to see whether he went past or not. She closed the door, and immediately wondered why she had shouted, why he had frightened her; it was hard to imagine any sight more reassuring than the well-dressed, handsome Englishman with the Mayfair look and - that air. It was as if he found her and the whole wide world amusing.
    It was an odd coincidence that he was in this passage at the same hotel, but she supposed that several people off the aircraft had come to the Arden-Astoria; it wasn’t really remarkable.
    Forget him.
    Where was Wilf? What was his danger? When would the man who had telephoned come?
    The thought was hardly in her mind before the apartment door-bell rang. This time, she moved more slowly, staring at it; and her hand went to her breast, as if to quieten her pounding heart. After a moment’s pause - far too short a time - the bell rang again; and as she moved more quickly it rang for a third time.
    â€œOh, don’t be in such a hurry!” she cried aloud, but now she moved swiftly, reached the door and opened it.
    Before she could get out of the way, it was thrust hard against her.
    â€œWhat . . .“ she began, and then fear rose starkly. All the things she had heard about the crime in New York flashed into her mind, she uttered a sharp scream, then tried to push the door to.
    She could not.
    A man was leaning against the door - a heavy man, who prevented her from closing it. The odd thing was that he made no sound.
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    In those few seconds after she had screamed, and before she saw more than the man’s hand, Valerie Hall was less terrified. She was badly scared, but much more herself. The seconds passed very quickly; just a flash of time. Then, still supporting the door, she edged to one side so that she could see the man more clearly. He was leaning heavily against it. His head was lowered, and she saw dark, curly hair. He wore a light grey suit. His left arm was stretched out, and he clutched the edge of the door. As she stared, she saw his fingers gradually relax, until he lost his grip and slumped down further.
    She said in a low-pitched voice: “Oh.”
    She knew now that the man was hurt, for he had collapsed completely. She heard his heavy breathing - laboured and tense. If she let the door go, he would fall and the door would bang back against the wall.
    She needed help.
    She could hardly think, beyond that.
    This might be the man who had telephoned her - who else was it likely to be?
    She edged towards him, gradually, wondering how she could save him from falling and then bring him in. She did not hear the faint sounds of someone