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Don lit a cigarette, raised his eyebrows thoughtfully and wondered what was wrong. He hoped Guido hadn't been fooling around with some woman. He thought it unlikely for he knew how devoted Guido was to Julia, but one never knew.

Harry pulled up outside 25a, Upper Brook Mews, slid out of the car and held the car door open. He gave Julia a smart salute and her distracted smile disturbed him. Don led her into the big, restful lounge.

"Sit down, Julia," he said. "Have a cigarette and relax. How about a sherry or a martini?" "I'd love a sherry."

Don touched the bell and then carried a box of cigarettes over to Julia and put it on the table beside her.

He was lighting her cigarette when Cherry, Don's butler and major-domo, came into the room.

Cherry was tall and bulky with a pink and white complexion and several pink chins. He had often been mistaken for an Archbishop, and in spite of his sixty-odd years, he carried himself with surprising sprightliness.

"You rang, sir?" he said in his rich, fruity voice. "Mrs Ferenci would like a sherry," Don said. "I'll have a whiskey"

"Certainly, sir," Cherry said and inclined his head towards Julia. His fat, pink face showed reserved approval.

Suspicious of American women, he had long since decided that Julia was an exception. He was satisfied that she knew how to behave in any situation and also that she was wealthy. These two qualifications for Cherry's approval were essential.

When he had served the drinks and had silently departed, Don stretched out his long legs and smiled encouragingly at Julia.

"Well, let's have it. You're acting very mysteriously. Has Guido run off with some wild-eyed filly?"

"Of course not," Julia said. "That would be something I could deal with myself. No, I'm really worried, Den. He's received a horrible, threatening letter."

Don showed his relief with a grin.

"My dear Julia, you mustn't worry about that kind of thing. People with Guido's type of money are always getting threatening letters. The world is full of jealous crackpots. It doesn't mean a thing."

"But I'm sure it does. This - this creature is demanding ten thousand pounds. He says if Guido doesn't pay up tonight..."

Her voice faltered. "He says he will kill him. It's horrible, Don."

Don frowned.

"Ten thousand? He's ambitious, isn't he? Have you the letter with you?"

"Guido threw it away. He just won't take it seriously. I wanted him to tell the police, but he won't hear of it. You know how obstinate he can be. He says this Tortoise is either a madman or someone pulling his leg ."

"Tortoise? What tortoise?"

"That's how the writer of the letter signs himself."

Don laughed.

"Well, there you are. He must be a crackpot. Now if he had signed himself the serpent or the wolf or something like that, there might be something in it. But a tortoise! Look, Julia, you mustn't fuss about this. Maybe it's one of Guido's racing pals playing a poor kind of joke."

Julia shook her head.

"That's what Guido says, but I don't believe it. He received the letter last Tuesday. I've been getting more and more worked up.

The money is to be paid tonight. Well, this morning... " She stopped, biting her lip.

"What happened this morning?" Julia tried unsuccessfully to control a little shiver. "We were at breakfast. I saw something moving on the floor. For a moment I thought it was a rat. It gave me an awful shock. Then I saw it was a tortoise. There was a piece of paper pasted across its shell. On the paper was a typewritten message. It said the ten thousand would be collected by a messenger at nine о 'clock tonight. If the money wasn't given to the messenger, Guido would die. Oh, Don, it really scares me. It's horrible."

"That seems to be carrying a joke rather far," Don said. "How did the tortoise get into the house?" "I don't know. I begged Guido to call the police, but he wouldn 't. He said if it got into the papers, everyone would laugh at him. You know how sensitive he is." Don rubbed his jaw. "What are you two doing tonight?"

"Guido wants to listen to Otello from the Scala on the radio. Don't you think we should tell the police?" Don hesitated, then shook his head.

"I think it would be a mistake as Guido is so set against it, Julia. A thing like this could get into the press and that type of publicity wouldn't be good for Guido. Let's face it. Suppose he did tell the police. What would they do? They might send a constable to guard the house, but one constable isn't going to stop a determined blackmailer if this chap is a blackmailer, which I doubt. I agree with you we should take precautions. I don't think for a moment there is any danger, but I can understand how you feel. I'll come along tonight with Harry. I'll tell Guido I was passing and dropped in on the off chance you two would be in. I'm quite sure nothing is going to happen, Julia, but I want to set your mind at rest.

Guido, Harry and I can more than take care of any crackpot. What do you say?"

Julia's face brightened.

"Of course. I know the whole thing is silly, but I would feel so much better if you did come. There's only Dixon and Ethel in the house. Perhaps you are right and nothing will happen, but if you were there..."

Don got to his feet.

"That's a bet. I'll be along soon after eight. Now don't worry any more. Have a nice lunch and put this out of your mind," he said as they walked into the hall. "I'll see you tonight."

Cherry appeared, pink and benign.

"I have ordered a taxi for Mrs Ferenci," he announced. "It is arriving now."

Julia gave him a bright smile. Watching her, Don was relieved to see how much better she looked.

"Thank you, Cherry," she said, and turning to Don, went on, "You don't know what a relief this is to me to know you will be with us tonight."

"You worry too much," Don said. "Put it out of your mind."

When the taxi had driven her away, Don went back to the lounge. He finished his drink and stood frowning out of the window.

The Tortoise.

Was there anything in this or was it a hoax? Were there any of Guido's friends capable of going to such lengths just to pull his leg? Don doubted it. A crackpot then?

After a moment's hesitation, he went over to the telephone and dialled Whitehall 22. It would do no harm, he told himself, to ask Chief Superintendent Dicks of the Special Branch if he had ever heard of anyone calling himself the Tortoise. When he finally got through to Dicks' office, he was told the Superintendent had just gone to lunch and was not expected back until six o'clock.

"Never mind," Don said. "No, there's no message."

Marian Rigby, Don's dark, attractive secretary, came hurrying into the lounge.

"There you are," she said. "You haven't forgotten you are lunching with Sir Robert at one?"

"I'm just off. Am I doing anything tonight, Marian?" "There's the film premiere. You promised to go." "Oh, that. Would you call them and tell them I can't make it?" He smiled. "I have a date with a gentleman who calls himself the Tortoise.

That sounds more exciting than a premiere, doesn't it?"

Guido Ferenci, tall and fair, his handsome face still deeply tanned from the sun of Portofino where Julia and he had been holidaying a few weeks previously, poured an 85 brandy into balloon glasses with a loving hand.

"Don't think for a moment you are hoodwinking me," he said as he gave Don one of the glasses. "This rot about passing and looking in for a drink is so much eyewash. Julia brougt you here to act as my bodyguard, didn't she?"

Don grinned.

"For a foreigner, he speaks beautiful English, doesn't he?" he said looking over at Julia. "I only wish I could speak Italian half as well."

"You speak Italian like a native," Julia said.

Guido looked affectionately at her.

"And that won't wash either. Never mind how well Don speaks Italian," he said, sinking into a big lounging chair opposite the one in which Don was sitting. "Now admit it: Julia persuaded you to come down to guard me, didn't she?