FRANCIS DURBRIDGE
Paul Temple 3-Book Collection:
Send for Paul Temple
Paul Temple and the Front Page Men
News of Paul Temple
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First published in Great Britain by
LONG 1938, 1939 and 1940
Copyright © Francis Durbridge 1938, 1930 and 1940
All rights reserved
Francis Durbridge has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2015
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A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN:
9780008125523
9780008125585
9780008125608
Ebook Edition © June 2015 ISBN: 9780008162092
Version: 2015-08-28
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Send for Paul Temple
Title Page
Contents
CHAPTER I: Conference at Scotland Yard
CHAPTER II: Paul Temple
CHAPTER III: Death of a Detective
CHAPTER IV: Again the Green Finger
CHAPTER V: Room 7
CHAPTER VI: The Knave of Diamonds
CHAPTER VII: The Shaping of a Mystery
CHAPTER VIII: A Message From Scotland Yard!
CHAPTER IX: Smash-and-Grab!
CHAPTER X: Comparing Notes
CHAPTER XI: Murder at Scotland Yard
CHAPTER XII: The Plan
CHAPTER XIII: A Present From the Knave!
CHAPTER XIV: Behind the Scenes
CHAPTER XV: The Wristlet Watch
CHAPTER XVI: Going Down!
CHAPTER XVII: The Secret of the Lift
CHAPTER XVIII: The Commissioner’s Orders
CHAPTER XIX: Steve Vanishes!
CHAPTER XX: At the Inn
CHAPTER XXI: The First Penguin
CHAPTER XXII: Ludmilla
CHAPTER XXIII: A Surprise for Temple
CHAPTER XXIV: Recovery and Escape
CHAPTER XXV: Amelia Victoria Bellman
CHAPTER XXVI: Horace and the Bridge
CHAPTER XXVII: Conspiracy
CHAPTER XXVIII: The Message
CHAPTER XXIX: The Meeting Is Adjourned
CHAPTER XXX: Even If It’s the Commissioner!
CHAPTER XXXI: Enter the Knave!
CHAPTER XXXII: And Exit the Knave!
Paul Temple and the Front Page Men
Title Page
Contents
CHAPTER I: Chief Inspector Charles Cavendish Mackenzie Reed
CHAPTER II: Mr. Andrew Brightman
CHAPTER III: Sir Norman Blakeley
CHAPTER IV: Mr. and Mrs. Paul Temple
CHAPTER V: Mr. J.P. Goldie
CHAPTER VI: Rev. Charles Hargreaves
CHAPTER VII: A Message for Paul Temple
CHAPTER VIII: The Front Page Men
CHAPTER IX: News of Steve
CHAPTER X: Story of a Rendezvous
CHAPTER XI: Paul Temple in Regent Street
CHAPTER XII: The Medusa Club
CHAPTER XIII: The Falkirk Diamond
CHAPTER XIV: At Bramley Lodge
CHAPTER XV: Mr. Tony Rivoli Visits Scotland Yard
CHAPTER XVI: Paul Temple Receives a Warning
CHAPTER XVII: The First Circle
CHAPTER XVIII: ‘Taxi, Sir!’
CHAPTER XIX: Mr. Goldie’s Mistake
CHAPTER XX: Concerning Lucky Gibson
CHAPTER XXI: In Which Hunter Receives a Surprise
CHAPTER XXII: Concerning Lina Fresnay and Herr Von Zelton
CHAPTER XXIII: Andrea Fortune Writes a Letter
CHAPTER XXIV: Murder on the Six-Ten
CHAPTER XXV: Visitors at Eastwood Mansions
CHAPTER XXVI: Concerning a Flat in Bloomsbury
CHAPTER XXVII: The Flat Above
CHAPTER XXVIII: Mr. Brightman Is Worried
CHAPTER XXIX: Wrenson’s Report
CHAPTER XXX: The Flying Squad
CHAPTER XXXI: News of Hargreaves, Gilbert Wrenson, and Mr. J. P. Goldie
CHAPTER XXXII: The Autumn Hotel
CHAPTER XXXIII: A Surprise for Gilbert Wrenson
CHAPTER XXXIV: In Which Paul Temple Eats Far Too Many Muffins
News of Paul Temple
Title Page
Contents
CHAPTER I: The Stage Is Set
CHAPTER II: Concerning Z.4
CHAPTER III: Instructions for a Murder
CHAPTER IV: Appointment With Danger
CHAPTER V: In Which Mrs Moffat Receives a Visitor
CHAPTER VI: Introducing Z.4
About the Author
Also in This Series
About the Publisher
FRANCIS DURBRIDGE
Send for Paul Temple
Contents
CHAPTER I: Conference at Scotland Yard
CHAPTER II: Paul Temple
CHAPTER III: Death of a Detective
CHAPTER IV: Again the Green Finger
CHAPTER V: Room 7
CHAPTER VI: The Knave of Diamonds
CHAPTER VII: The Shaping of a Mystery
CHAPTER VIII: A Message From Scotland Yard!
CHAPTER IX: Smash-and-Grab!
CHAPTER X: Comparing Notes
CHAPTER XI: Murder at Scotland Yard
CHAPTER XII: The Plan
CHAPTER XIII: A Present From the Knave!
CHAPTER XIV: Behind the Scenes
CHAPTER XV: The Wristlet Watch
CHAPTER XVI: Going Down!
CHAPTER XVII: The Secret of the Lift
CHAPTER XVIII: The Commissioner’s Orders
CHAPTER XIX: Steve Vanishes!
CHAPTER XX: At the Inn
CHAPTER XXI: The First Penguin
CHAPTER XXII: Ludmilla
CHAPTER XXIII: A Surprise for Temple
CHAPTER XXIV: Recovery and Escape
CHAPTER XXV: Amelia Victoria Bellman
CHAPTER XXVI: Horace and the Bridge
CHAPTER XXVII: Conspiracy
CHAPTER XXVIII: The Message
CHAPTER XXIX: The Meeting Is Adjourned
CHAPTER XXX: Even If It’s the Commissioner!
CHAPTER XXXI: Enter the Knave!
CHAPTER XXXII: And Exit the Knave!
CHAPTER I
Conference at Scotland Yard
‘Superintendent Harvey and Inspector Dale, sir!’
‘All right, Sergeant, you can go. Let me have the map some time before noon.’
Sir Graham Forbes, the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, stood up to greet the new arrivals. He was a tall man
with iron-grey hair and a sparse figure. Even the black coat and striped trousers, which gave him the appearance of a City stockbroker, could not conceal that his early career had been spent with the Army. He contrasted strangely with the two men who now came into his office at Scotland Yard.
Dale was a man of medium height and build who always seemed unhappy and helpless without his bowler hat, and the umbrella which nobody ever remembered seeing unfurled.
The superintendent was a full head taller. He was a man of mighty frame whose bronzed face might have made the casual stranger mistake him for the more successful type of farmer. But he possessed a fund of wisdom and mellow humour, coupled with an astuteness that he would reveal in some urbane remark, that few farmers possessed.
Superintendent Harvey and Chief Inspector Dale had been placed in charge of the mysterious robberies, the size and scope of which had literally staggered the country. It was now their unpleasant task to give the Commissioner an account of yet another mysterious robbery which had occurred in Birmingham only a few hours before.
‘It’s the same gang, sir!’ Chief Inspector Dale was saying. He spoke quietly, but the calm, clear note of efficiency sounded in his voice. ‘There’s no question of it. £8,000 worth of diamonds.’
The Commissioner looked worried. Monocle in hand, he strode backwards and forwards across the heavily carpeted room.
‘The night watchman is dead, sir!’ Superintendent Harvey added.
‘Dead?’ There was no mistaking the surprise in Sir Graham’s’ voice.
‘Yes.’
‘The poor devil was chloroformed,’ Dale explained. ‘I don’t think they meant to kill him. According to the doctor, he was gassed during the War, and his lungs were pretty groggy.’
The news had not put Sir Graham in the best of tempers. ‘This is bad, Dale!’ he said irritably. ‘Bad!’ he repeated with emphasis.
‘He was a new man,’ said Harvey. ‘He’d only been with Stirling’s a month or so.’
‘Yes. His name was Rogers. “Lefty” Rogers. He was working at Stirling’s under the name of Dixon.’
The hint in the superintendent’s words, and the inflexion of his voice was not lost on the Commissioner.
‘Had he a record?’ he asked.
‘He’d a record all right! Everything from petty larceny to blackmail,’ Chief Inspector Dale informed him.
The Commissioner grunted.
‘Inspector Merritt was already on the job when we arrived, sir,’ said Harvey.
‘Inspector Merritt? Oh, yes.’ The Commissioner paused. ‘Who discovered the robbery in the first place?’
‘One of the constables on night duty,’ answered Inspector Dale. ‘A man called Finley. He noticed the side door had been forced open. At least, that’s his story!’ he added, with a queer note in his voice.
‘You don’t believe him?’
‘No,’ Dale replied decisively. ‘I think he was in the habit of having a chat with Rogers, or Dixon—whichever you like to call him. In fact, he almost admitted as much. The night watchman used to make coffee, and I rather think P.C. Finley has—er—a liking for coffee.’
The Commissioner appeared to think over the significance of what Dale had told him. ‘Do you think he knew Dixon was an ex-convict?’ he asked at last.
Dale hesitated a fraction before he answered. ‘No. I don’t think so.’
‘This is the fourth robbery in two months, Dale!’ the Commissioner said impatiently, and took a cigarette from the small ivory box on his desk.
‘There wasn’t a mark on the safe,’ Inspector Dale said quietly. ‘If it hadn’t been for the other robberies, I’d have sworn this was an inside job.’
‘What did Merritt have to say?’ asked Forbes.
Dale seemed amused. ‘He’s in a complete daze, poor devil. He’d got some fancy sort of theory about a huge criminal organization. I think Inspector Merritt has a rather theatrical imagination!’ he added, with a smile which had some slight measure of contempt behind it.
‘You don’t think we’re up against a criminal organization, then?’ the Commissioner asked.
‘Good heavens, no! Criminal organizations are all very well between the pages of a novel, sir, but when it comes to real life, well, they just don’t exist!’
Sir Graham Forbes grunted. ‘Is that your opinion too, Harvey?’ he asked, turning to where Harvey was sitting on the other side of his desk.
‘To be perfectly honest, Sir Graham, I’m rather inclined to agree with Merritt.’ Dale looked at him with obvious surprise, but Harvey continued: ‘At first I thought we were up against the usual crowd who were having an uncanny run of good luck,’ he said, ‘but now I’m rather inclined to think otherwise. You see, in the first place, there are certain aspects of this business which, to my way of thinking, indicate the existence of a really super mind. A man with an unusual flair for criminal organization. I know it sounds fantastic, and all that, sir! I feel rather reluctant to believe it myself, but we must face the facts, and the facts are pretty grim!’
He paused, but Sir Graham nodded, as a sign for him to continue.
‘First there was the case of Smithson’s of Gloucester. £17,000 worth of stuff. Then there was the Leicester business, £9,000 worth. Then there was the Derby affair, £4,000. And mark you, we had the Derby shop covered. We were, in fact, prepared for the raid. But that didn’t stop it from happening. Then, on top of everything else, there’s this affair in Birmingham, £8,000 worth of diamonds.
‘No, Sir Graham, if we were up against the usual crowd, Benny Lever, “Dopey” Crowman, “Spilly” Stetson, we’d have had ’em under lock and key ages ago. I firmly believe, Sir Graham, that we are up against one of the greatest criminal organizations in Europe!’
Harvey had been carried away by his rising excitement as he recalled the details of the mysterious robberies. Sir Graham had been listening intently, making an occasional note on a pad on his desk. A slight smile of amusement on Dale’s face had given place to the utmost seriousness as Harvey continued with his dramatic recital.
‘Where was the night watchman when this fellow—er— Finley, discovered him?’ the Commissioner asked at last.
‘In his usual spot, sir,’ Dale answered. ‘He had a tiny office at the back of the shop.’
‘I suppose you questioned Finley?’
‘Good Lord, yes, sir!’ replied Harvey emphatically. ‘I was with him almost an hour.’
‘Did you see the night watchman, Dale, before he died?’
‘No, sir, but Harvey did.’
‘Well, Harvey?’
‘He was pretty groggy when I saw him,’ the Superintendent said. ‘The doctor wouldn’t let me stay above a couple of minutes.’
‘Did he say anything?’
‘Yes,’ said Harvey quietly, ‘as a matter of fact, he did.’
Superintendent Harvey spoke strangely, and both the Commissioner and Chief Inspector Dale directed puzzled looks at him.
‘Well, what did he say?’ the Commissioner demanded.
‘It was just as I was on the verge of leaving.… He turned over on his side and mumbled a few words. They sounded almost incoherent at the time. As a matter of fact, it wasn’t until a minute or so later that I realized what he’d said—’
As he broke off, the Commissioner became more and more impatient.
‘Well, what did he say, Harvey?’
Quietly the superintendent replied. ‘He said: “The Green Finger”!’
‘The Green Finger…’ said Dale.
‘Yes.’
‘But—but that doesn’t make sense.’
‘Just a minute, Dale,’ said the Commissioner, deep in thought. ‘You remember that man we fished out of the river about a month ago. We thought he might have had something to do with that job at Leicester. I think you found his print on part of—’
Dale interrupted him. ‘Oh, yes! “Snipey” Jackson. I was with Lawrence at the time we found
him. The poor devil was floating down the river like an empty sack.’ He paused, then suddenly exclaimed: ‘I say…don’t you remember? Don’t you remember what he said just before he died? I’m sure I’m right! Why—’
‘He said, “The Green Finger”!’ The Commissioner spoke slowly, emphasizing each syllable.
‘Yes,’ repeated Dale, ‘“The Green Finger”.’
‘The—the same as the night watchman,’ added Harvey. ‘But—what is this Green Finger? What does it mean?’
‘That, my dear Superintendent,’ replied the Commissioner with dry humour, ‘is one of the many things we are here to find out.’
‘I don’t think there’s any doubt that “Snipey” Jackson was tied up with that Leicester job,’ said Dale. ‘Henderson found two of his fingerprints on one of the show-cases.’
‘Yes,’ replied Sir Graham. ‘I reckon that was the reason why you and Lawrence had the pleasure of fishing him out of the Thames. The people we are up against know how to deal with incompetence; that’s one thing I’ll say for them!’
‘Sir Graham,’ asked Dale slowly, ‘do you believe the same as Harvey and Inspector Merritt, that we are up against a definite criminal organization?’