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“The Saint?” she repeated incredulously. “Why should I believe that?”

“Would a passport convince you?”

She was already convinced enough to risk leaving the doorway and coming forward far enough to take the booklet he held out to her. Still keeping a safe distance, she looked at the photograph and the pages crowded with visa stamps. She half-smiled as she handed the passport back at full arm’s length.

“So a celebrity broke into my room,” she said whimsically. “That makes it all right, I guess. What did you do-pick the lock?”

“I was afraid it might compromise your reputation if I asked the room clerk to let me in. So I did what any gentleman cracksman would have done.”

“Well, that certainly needs explaining, even if you are the Saint,” she retorted indignantly.

“It was quite easy, really. I’ll show you the trick if you’re interested.”

“I mean, why should you want to get into my room?”

He took a step towards the open door, and she moved back so that he could not cut off her escape route.

“Wouldn’t it have been out of character if I hadn’t?” he answered unassumingly. “I mean, think what a disappointment it would be if the Saint showed up politely ringing your doorbell with his hat in his hand.”

“And that’s the only reason?” she asked sarcastically.

“I’ll be glad to discuss this if you’ll close the door,” he replied. “Just in case there are any bog ears flapping down the hall.”

“Mighty thoughtful of you,” she conceded. “Okay, I’ll take a chance — but if you do anything funny I’ll scream my head off. You stay over there by the sofa and I’ll stay over here.”

Simon agreed with an amused shrug, and settled his rangy frame on the sofa cushions. Vicky Kinian shut the door, and perched uneasily on the arm of a chair not far from it.

“Now,” she said, “please tell me what’s going on.”

“I will; but bear in mind that I agree in advance that I’m completely unscrupulous — so you can spare me any outbursts of righteous indignation.” He crossed his long legs and swung one arm along the back of the sofa. “I broke in here the first time when you went out to dinner. I was looking for a certain letter...”

Her dark eyes flashed angrily, and she glanced towards the top of the wardrobe.

“Well, I never heard of such—”

“Gall,” Simon supplied helpfully. “And if I hadn’t found the letter at the time that reflex of yours would have given away where it was hidden.”

She was on her feet.

“Well, you can just give it back to me right now!”

The Saint’s face showed genuine regret.

“I would if I could, Vicky. Unfortunately you have more followers than Moses did when the going was easy — and I was set upon by a couple of rude fans who were ready to go to any extremes to get a souvenir.”

“Who? Where?”

“A couple of unsavory types who were disfiguring the corridor when I came out — I would guess with ideas of combing out your room themselves. I tried to start a false scent by marching straight on out of the hotel, but they followed me up the street with the notion of finding out whether I’d brought anything valuable with me. I managed to discourage them somewhat, but during the short but merry tussle your letter still managed to disappear. I searched all around while the cops chased my playmates, and I checked with the cops after the chase was over, and all I can deduce is that some other ardent admirer of yours — some fourth party — picked it up and ran off with it while the rest of us were getting our exercise at the other end of the alley.”

“Brilliant!” commented Vicky. “Now nobody has it!”

“Not nobody — just somebody unknown. Maybe you have a clue as to who it might be — and it’s certainly important now for you to tell me what was in that letter.”

The girl’s temper was at the flash-point.

“Well, if that doesn’t take the blue ribbon! You’d think it was your letter or something. You haven’t even started to explain what you’re up to!”

“All right,” he said in a business-like voice, “I can’t prove to you — or even risk telling you in a room that may be bugged — just how legitimately I found out why you’re here in Lisbon. But if you want proof in the morning I’ll supply it. In the meantime, I’ll just say that I know in a general way what you’re after, and I know that there are some pretty vicious parties on the same trail.” He studied her keenly. “It occurs to me that you may not even realize how much danger you’re in — and what kind of rough characters are in this paper chase with you.”

“Why, no, I didn’t,” she answered in honeyed tones. “You’re the first one I’ve met.”

“Think it out for yourself,” Simon urged her, unabashed. “This other character has the letter now, anyway — and his methods prove that he’s up to no good.”

“Of course, your methods are perfectly normal and prove that anyone ought to trust you,” she responded.

“As I said, I can’t prove much of anything at this hour of the night,” he admitted patiently. “Maybe we should concentrate on the point that you now know that your father’s secret isn’t completely secret, and that the hounds of the Ungodly are even now sniffing at your threshold.”

Vicky glanced fearfully towards the door of her room.

“At my threshold?” she breathed.

“Figuratively speaking. And when they come after you in some dark alley, you may be very glad to have somebody on your side who knows at least as much about these sorts of shenanigans as they do.”

The girl’s distracting mouth hardened.

“Shenanigans is right,” she said brusquely. “And you, I suppose, are the knight in shining armour who’s going to defend me through thick and thin.”

“In two easy cliches, that’s it,” Simon said.

“Well, I’ll tell you what’s going on,” she said belligerently. “You stole my letter, found out that the most important part was missing, and now you’re giving me this nice saintly story to get me to tell you what was in it!”

Simon rose and faced her.

“I’ve told you the truth. I’d only just started to read the letter when—”

“A nice trick, but it’s not going to work, Mr Templar,” she interrupted. “I memorized the part that had the important instructions in it, and destroyed it so nobody else could find it — and it’s going to stay that way!”

She had to admit to herself that the Saint looked genuinely concerned.

“But don’t you see, if that’s true you’re in even more danger,” he said urgently. “If the other side knows you did that, they’ll go to any lengths to find out from you what was in it. Don’t forget what happened to your father...”

“Nobody knows,” she said, wanting to contradict him in any way she could.

“Exactly,” said the Saint. “You, too, could disappear.”

She was determined not to give in.

“And so could you — if you could take a fortune with you! I think I’ve heard a few things about the Saint’s affinity for loot.” She stalked to the door and threw it open. “And now will you kindly leave, or have I got to call for help? There’s no reason on earth why you should be so anxious to save my skin. You’re just trying to get your hands on something that doesn’t belong to you.”

“And that may not belong to you either,” he pointed out.

“The difference is that I know more about it than you do, and you won’t fool me into giving up that advantage.”

Simon took a very deep breath, and finally walked past her into the hall. He turned again after he had assured himself that it was deserted and that no other doors seemed to be ajar.