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."I think I'll just go home.""I'll see that you get there safely," Simon told her."It sounds as if you'reup against a conspiracy of some kind.We may just have to form a littleconspiracy of our own."CHAPTER 5On the taxi ride to Chelsea, the Saint pieced together the chips and splintersof information that Julie Norcombe reluctantly, fearfully divulged.By thetime they reached her brother's flat he knew all about her coming to London,her brother's profession and personality, and everything that had passed sincethat eve-ning when Adrian had gone out and not returned.Simon was playingwith those scanty details in his head, trying not to rush his conclusions, butangling for different patterns, searching for possibilities that might beoverlooked if he let his attention be-come fixed on one interpretation.Whatever storm was brewing, with Cyril Pargit near or at its centre, gavefascinating new di-mensions to the problem he had set out to explore earlierthat same day.Here was something even more intriguing than an en-counter witha mere unctuous opportunist of the art trade who was technically guilty oflittle more than being too imaginative in his sales talks.The Saint helped Julie out of the taxi and she was surprised when he paid thedriver instead of getting back into the cab him-self."I don't mean to push myself on you," he said, still very careful of thisjumpy girl's apprehensions."But I don't think we've quite finished ourbusiness yet."His approach to her was hampered by the knowledge that she had a lot lessreason to trust him than she had Mr Fawkes or the Special Branch officers whohad called on the night of her brother's disappearance.Simon's biggest trumpwas the force of his own sincerity.With people who deserved no better, or incircumstances that demanded it, he was capable of the most out-rageouslyconvincing pretences, and of feats of simulation that would have aroused theenvy of many a seasoned actor.But now, when he was being himself, and totallyhonest, his persuasiveness was really overwhelming.It helped to be ashandsome as he was, to speak and dress as he did (people always seem to trustthe educated rich), and to have such an air of self-confidence that you couldnot imagine him ever needing to do anything under-handed.But at the root ofPage 18ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlhis power to draw people to him and inspire their trust was somethingintangible, an invisible aura which surrounded his body and flowed from hisincredible eyes which was practically irresistible."I don't know what to do," Julie said forlornly, standing out-side the stillunopened door of her brother's flat."Do you think that the Mr Fawkes I sawwas really the man from the art gal-lery? I mean, I know he must have been,but it doesn't seem pos-sible.He was there, with his secretary, in hisoffice, with his name on the door, and the man on duty downstairs didn't thinkthere was anything peculiar." She suddenly paused."Well, he did say thatMr Fawkes was probably out to lunch, but then he found out he wasn't.""It'll be very easy to check this out," Simon said."May I use yourtelephone?"Any suspicion or resistance that remained in Julie's mind was being rapidlywashed away.She hesitated for only a moment."All right."Simon took the key from her hand and opened the door.As soon as he followedher inside he was intrigued by the mixture of North-of-England bourgeois andartistic individualism that char-acterised the place.It was as if two peoplelived there and had shared in the decoration a very conventional middle-classold maid, and the artist who had tried to work in his own ideas wherever hecould without unduly disconcerting his alter ego.The effect was comfortablebut a little stifling."Has your brother always lived alone here?""Yes.He came down about five years ago and he's been here the whole time.""There's one thing that I'm puzzled about." Simon smiled be-fore he went on."Well, one thing among several.I'm surprised you didn't recognise Pargit'sname when I asked you about him.""Why?""Well, what sent you to his art gallery?""Oh.I looked all through my brother's things, because I got the idea that Ishould find out as much as I could about him.I thought I might get a clue ofsome kind about what had been going on in his life before I came here, but Ijust couldn't believe Adrian had actually done anything wrong.So I startedhunting round and I couldn't find much of anything
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