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Authors: Dolores Gordon-Smith

Mad About the Boy? (39 page)

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‘So that's what all that was about,' said Isabelle.

‘Yes, old thing,' said Haldean, getting up and helping himself to another whisky and soda, ‘that's what all that was about. Ashley and Constable Bevan hid themselves in the shrubbery and watched Malcolm go into the summerhouse. As soon as Malcolm had left, Ashley looked under the loose board and there was an envelope with two hundred quid and a request to meet the writer. Constable Bevan brought me a note to say Malcolm had taken the bait, and next thing the man himself rang the front doorbell, having supposedly just arrived from the station. The trouble was that I didn't know, and Ashley didn't know, if our blackmail wheeze would be acceptable in court. Again, when you think of the lawyer Malcolm would have at his beck and call, we might find that we'd run into tiresome things like Judges' Rules and the whole blackmail business would be deemed inadmissible. We needed to get Malcolm to the stage where, first having believed he was safe, he was suddenly in the position where he was threatened. And that, with a man like Malcolm, was a dangerous game to play. He was as twitchy as a kitten in any event, so I took the elementary precaution of taking the bullets out of the magazine of his gun. Ashley was outside the french windows and as soon as he heard I'd got the gun, he brought you all into the room. Malcolm was far too interested in you, Belle, coming into the room to notice what I was doing.' He grinned. ‘There was another bullet in the chamber which I discharged as soon as I could.'

‘So that's what you were up to,' said Sir Philip. ‘Damn me, boy, I thought you'd gone mad when you fired the wretched thing.'

‘It was just as well I did though, wasn't it?' His smile widened. ‘Quite honestly, Arthur, I don't know what you thought you were playing at. I knew the gun was empty and Ashley knew it was empty, but you didn't know and you still went for him.'

Arthur looked sheepish. ‘I couldn't let him threaten Isabelle, could I? Besides that, I was hopping mad when I thought what he'd put me through. All I really wanted to do was get Isabelle to safety and wallop him good and hard.'

‘I wish you had done,' said Haldean in a low voice. ‘It would have been so much better than what happened.' He was quiet for a few moments, looking at the palms of his hands. ‘Anyway, I drove him off the road. God help me.'

Stanton moved uneasily. ‘Come on, Jack.'

Haldean took a deep breath. ‘I won't ever be able to forget the noise he made as he fell. Ever. And I found it a bit tough, you know? I liked him. I'd liked him enormously and having to pretend I was his friend and so on when he came into the house was pretty hard, knowing what I knew.' His voice broke abruptly. ‘Damned hard.'

Isabelle took his hands in hers, forcing him to look at her. ‘Jack, listen to me. Arthur was supposed to hang and you saved him. I'll never be able to thank you enough for that.'

‘Me neither,' added Stanton. ‘And there's something else, too.' He looked at Isabelle affectionately. ‘Don't take this the wrong way, but after what I've been through, I'm blessed if I'm running the risk of you becoming Mrs Anyone Else.' He turned to Sir Philip. ‘Er . . . it's normally the sort of question you ask in private, sir, but can I have your permission to marry your daughter?'

Sir Philip laughed. ‘I don't think you can wriggle out of it now, m'boy.'

‘In that case, Jack,' said Stanton, ‘you will be best man, won't you?'

Haldean squeezed Isabelle's hands. ‘Try asking anyone else,' he said with a grin. ‘I'll forbid the banns.'

BOOK: Mad About the Boy?
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