The Toff And The Stolen Tresses

other, guarding the approach from the right, also turned round, and for a moment Rollison was between them. They began to approach stealthily, menacingly.

Then wild screams began to come from the hall.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Flight

Ada Jepson put down the telephone as Rollison stepped out of the house, and stood watching as the youths streamed in. She wasn’t sure how many were there. They were all young, their hair was beautifully waved and groomed, they wore the narrow trousers and the wide shouldered coats of their kind—and their faces were savagely intent, their weapons were raised as if all they wanted to do was to find something to smash, and to smash it. They had come in with such a rush that they hadn’t seen the three men standing to receive them; but suddenly the liquid ammonia hissed out from the syringes and the sprays, striking at eyes and mouths and noses. One moment it looked as if the house would be wrecked by the attacking brutes; then they began to stagger and to fall and to squeal and to scream. Their weapons dropped, they put their hands to their eyes to try to stop the pain of the ammonia as it bit at them. One raised his voice to such a screaming pitch that it drowned all other sound.

Forbes stopped spraying.

“That will be sufficient,” he announced firmly, and turned to Ada. “Are you all right, Miss Ada?” She looked at him silently and nodded, and he went straight towards the door. “Mr. Rollison advised us to shut the men in, and so make sure that they couldn’t get away,” he said. “I will make sure that he is not hurt, and then—”

Before Forbes finished, two cars drew up in quick succession. The footsteps of running men sounded, and one car engine roared as the car spurted to catch up with the men. A car door opened, policemen jumped out and came running, and Rollison’s voice sounded quite clearly and cheerfully:

“Help yourselves inside, chaps. Don’t worry about the constable, he’s all right.”

*     *     *

Rollison helped the fallen policeman to his feet, and stood by while the men from the Flying Squad cars stormed into the house, their shadows thrown out on to the porch and the street. Another car had stopped at the far end of the square; the two look-out youths had been caught and were on their way back.

“What’s it all about?” demanded the constable, weakly.

“Just a wrecking party,” Rollison said mildly. “The Jepsons must have upset someone. Sure you’re all right?”

“Lucky thing they didn’t knock my helmet off first,” the constable said, “but I’m okay sir. Who are—” he peered into Rollison’s face, and his eyes widened in a way which was so familiar. “Isn’t it Mr. Rollison?”

“Yes.”

“Now I’m beginning to understand,” the constable said. “You’re mixed up in it. No offence meant, sir!”

“None taken,” said Rollison solemnly, and went into the house.

The smell of ammonia was so strong that it made him cough, and his eyes began to smart.

The Yard men seemed to be crying, too, and so did Forbes, the footman, the old man and Ada. The youths were standing, handcuffed and gasping for breath; all eight were lined up ready to go.

Now all we want is the Black Maria,” said Rollison brightly. “Eight more for the can, sergeant.” He recognised the plainclothes man in charge. “You’ll want a statement, of course, and it’s as simple as this ..

Half an hour later, the hall was almost free of the smell of ammonia, and that of a strong disinfectant helped to disguise it. The carpet was damp where it had been scrubbed, but there was no sign of damage anywhere; not even on the walls. The policemen and their prisoners had gone, Forbes and the other men were back in the domestic quarters, and Ada, her eyes still watering a little and her nose red where she had blown it so often, stood in front of Rollison and looked up at him, rather like an earnest canary.

“Did you expect that raid when you came?” she demanded.

“Didn’t dream of one,” Rollison told her, and sipped a long, soft drink; all alcohol mixed badly with his ammonia-tainted palate. “Ada.”

“Yes?”

“You must know why they came.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Ada assured him earnestly. “Why, it’s absolutely crazy. What did they hope to gain by it? I’ve no enemies, and I’m sure Reggie hasn’t. When he hears about this he’ll come rushing back. I do hope it’s all over before he arrives, he does take such chances. Not that taking chances makes it much more dangerous, I suppose; after all you take enough.” She said that quite flatly and factually. “I really can’t believe the truth, Rolly, that they just came here to wreck the place. Apart from the wicked vandalism of it, it—it’s so pointless. Who could hate us like that?”

Rollison eyed her thoughtfully, wondering if she was really as innocent and ignorant as she pretended. He doubted whether anyone else in the world would have suspected that she might be hiding something, for she looked so like a solemn child. He squeezed her arm, and said:

“We’re on the way to finding out. You know what I’d think if I weren’t such a gullible beginner, don’t you?”

“You? A beginner? Don’t make me laugh, Rolly, tell me what you’d think.”

“That you didn’t come and ask me to find out who had attacked Jimmy Jones because you were so worried about him, and wanted him avenged, but because you knew that this kind of thing might happen, and were anxious to find out who was behind it.”

She shook her head, briskly.

“It might look like that, Richard, but it simply isn’t true.”

He looked at her sceptically for a long time. She met his gaze without wilting, and gave no sign that he had