Part 42 (1/2)
There was hardly a struggle. Staff's left arm clipped the man about the waist at the same time that his right hand deftly abstracted the pistol from its convenient pocket. Then, dropping the weapon into his own pocket, he transferred his hold to Ismay's collar and spun him round with a snap that fairly jarred his teeth.
”There, confound you!” he said, exploring his pockets for other lethal weapons and finding nothing but three loaded clips ready to be inserted in the hollow b.u.t.t of the pistol already confiscated. ”Now what 'm I going to do with you, you blame' little pest?”
The question was more to himself than to Ismay, but the latter, recovering with astonis.h.i.+ng quickness, answered Staff by suddenly squirming out of his coat and leaving it in his a.s.sailant's hands as he ducked to the door and flung himself out.
Staff broke into a laugh as the patter of the little man's feet was heard on the stairs.
”Resourceful beggar,” he commented, going to the window and rolling up the coat as he went. He reached it just in time to see the thief dodge out.
The coat, opening as it descended, fell like a blanket round Ismay's head. He stumbled, tripped and fell headlong down the steps, sprawling and cursing.
”Thought you might need it,” Staff apologised as the man picked himself up and darted away.
He turned to confront an infuriated edition of Alison.
”Why did you do that?” she demanded with a stamp of her foot. ”What right had you to interfere? I was beating him down; in another minute we'd have come to terms--”
”Oh, don't be silly, my dear,” said Staff, taking his revolver from the desk-drawer and placing it in the hip-pocket of tradition. ”To begin with, I don't mind telling you I don't give much of a whoop whether you ever get that necklace back or not.” He grabbed his hat and started for the door. ”What I'm interested in is the rescue of Miss Searle, if you must know; and that's going to happen before long, or I miss my guess.”
He paused at the open door. ”If we get her, we get the necklace, of course--and the Lord knows you'll be welcome to that. Would you mind turning out the lights before you go?”
”Staff!”
Her tone was so peremptory that he hesitated an unwelcome moment longer.
”Well?” he asked civilly, wondering what on earth she had found to fly into such a beastly rage about.
”You know what this means?”
”You tell me,” he smiled.
”It means the break; I won't play _A Single Woman_!” she snapped.
”That's the best guess you've made yet,” he laughed. ”You win. Good night and--good-bye.”
XVI
NINETY MINUTES
Commandeering Alison's taxicab with the promise of an extra tip, Staff jumped in and shut the door. As they swung into Fourth Avenue, he caught a glimpse of Ismay's slight figure standing on the corner, his pose expressive of indecision and uncertainty; and Staff smiled to himself, surmising that it was there that the thief had left his motor-car to be confiscated by Iff.
Three blocks north on Fourth Avenue, and they swung west into Thirty-third Street: a short course quickly covered, but yet not swiftly enough to outpace Staff's impatience. He had the door open, his foot on the step, before the taxicab had begun to slow down preparatory to stopping beside the car waiting in the shadow of the big hotel.
Iff was in the tonneau, gesticulating impatiently; the chauffeur had already cranked up and was sliding into his seat. As the taxicab rolled alongside, Staff jumped, thrust double the amount registered by the meter into the driver's hand, and sprang into the body of Ismay's car.
Iff snapped the door shut; as though set in motion by that sharp sound, the machine began to move smoothly and smartly, gathering momentum with every revolution of its wheels. They were crossing Madison almost before Staff had settled into his seat. A moment later they were snoring up Fifth Avenue.
Staff looked at his watch. ”Ten,” he told Iff.
”We'll make time once we get clear of this island,” said the little man anxiously; ”we've got to.”