Not to Disturb (7 page)

The house-phone in Lister's hand gives a brief gusty
sigh. Lister says, ‘Darling, did you find the files locked or unlocked?'

The phone crackles amok while a double crash of thunder
beats the sky above the roof. A long wail comes from the top of the house and
from another level upstairs comes an intermittent beat of music. The back door
rattles, admits footsteps and clicks shut. Lister at the phone listens on.

‘Then be careful,' he says at last, ‘not to lock them
again. Leave everything as you found it. Take copies and put the papers back.
And hurry, my love. There is no cause for alarm —

But at my back I always hear

Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near
—'

A tall skinny chinless girl with bright black eyes has
come into the servants' room meanwhile.

Lister puts down the phone and says to her,

‘And yonder all before us lie

Deserts of vast eternity.—

Where have you been all night, Irene?'

‘It was my evening off,' says Irene, removing her
leather, lambskin-lined driving gloves.

‘Evening off,' says Lister. ‘What kind of an hour is this
to return to the Château Klopstock?'

‘I got caught in the storm,' she says. ‘Good evening,
Reverend. What a pleasure!'

The Reverend opens his eyes, sits up, lets his eyes
wander round the room, then, seeing his drink he takes it up and sips it.

‘Too strong,' he says. ‘I'd like a cup of tea before I
go.'

‘Listen to the storm, Reverend. You can't go all that way
back to Geneva on your motor-bike tonight,' says Lister.

‘Out of the question,' says Irene.

The outside telephone rings, piercing the warm room.

Lister says to Clovis, ‘Answer it. If it's a cousin
wanting to talk to the Baron Klopstocks they are not to be disturbed. Who else
could it be at this hour except a cousin?'

Clovis is at the switchboard of the outside telephone, in
the pantry office. The Geneva exchange is speaking audibly in French. Mr Samuel
and Mr McGuire stand behind Clovis.

Clovis responds, then putting his hand over the speaker
he says to them. ‘It's for me, from the United States.'

‘It's no doubt about the film,' Lister says. ‘They should
have telephoned yesterday. But it's still yesterday over there. They always ring
in the middle of the night from the United States of America. They think that
because they are five hours back we also are five hours back. Irene, go up and
fetch Heloise and the boys. Bring them down here, we have things to
discuss.'

Irene goes and Lister once more takes up the house-phone,
presses a button and waits for the hum. ‘Eleanor, are you coming?' he says. The
house-phone gives vent as before, while thunder smacks at the windows and Clovis
can be heard from the pantry office chatting joyfully to the United States.
Lister says at length into the house-phone speaker, ‘Good, it's just what we
need. Bring it down, love, bring it down at once. Put back the originals, and
leave unlocked what you found unlocked and locked what was locked.'

Clovis has come to the room again, followed by Messrs
McGuire and Samuel. The Reverend sleeps. Clovis smiles. ‘It's all tied up,' he
says, ‘and Pablo's getting the part of Hadrian, too.'

IV

‘At a quarter past seven, while the sky whitens,' says
Lister, ‘we all, with the exception of Mr Samuel and Mr McGuire, shall go up to
our rooms, change into our smart working-day uniforms, and at eight or
thereabouts we blunder downstairs to call the police and interview the
journalists who will already have arrived, or be arriving. Mr Samuel and Mr
McGuire will be in bed, but in the course of the breaking open of the library
door by the police, they too will float down the staircase, surprised, and
wearing their bath-robes or something seemly. We will by then have put the
Reverend to bed and he can sleep on through the fuss until, and if, wakened by
the police. He in the attic and Sister Barton will be back in their quarters.
They —'

‘Why should they be out of their quarters during the
night?' Heloise says.

‘Let me prophesy,' Lister says. ‘My forecasts are only
approximate, as are Heloise's intuitions.'

‘Let Lister speak,' says Eleanor.

The storm has moved away from the vicinity and can be
heard in the distance batting among the mountain-tops like African drums.

Clovis says, ‘We've got nothing to hide. We're
innocent.'

‘Well, we are crimeless,' Lister says. ‘To continue with
the plans. Heloise, you are pregnant.'

The house-telephone rings. Eleanor lifts it up and bends
an ear to its bronchial story. Heloise laughs.

‘All right, let them come inside the gates. But don't let
them out again,' Eleanor says, and puts down the phone. She says to Lister,
‘That's Victor Passerat's two friends. They are threatening to call the police
if we won't produce Passerat.'

‘Here they come,' says Hadrian, at the window, and
presently a car bumps up the drive. Presently again, a banging at the back
door.

‘Let them in,' says Lister. ‘Bring them in here.'

‘That's right,' says Clovis. ‘Better straighten things
out.'

Mr Samuel goes out to the back door and returns followed
by Anne the masseuse and her friend, Alex. They stand staring at the assembled
household. They look from Eleanor to the dozing Reverend, they look at laughing
Heloise, at Pablo and at long-legged Irene and Lister.

‘I understand you want to use the telephone,' Lister
says. He waves towards the pantry office. ‘Well there it is.'

‘We want Victor,' says Anne.

‘He is in the library with the Baron and the Baroness.
They're not to be disturbed. Strict orders.'

‘I feel afraid for Victor,' says Alex.

‘Why not ring the police as you've suggested?' says
Lister waving again towards the pantry office. ‘The telephone's in there. We are
having a busy night waiting up for the Baron and the Baroness.'

‘I'd rather keep the police out of it,' Anne says.

‘Yes, I dare say. What sort of reward are you hoping for,
large or small?'

‘Victor's our friend. We know Cathy Klopstock, too,' says
Anne.

Heloise says, ‘Why don't you call the police and tell
them you've got those tape-recordings and films ready in your car, so that
Victor and the Baroness can do a deal with the Baron, and then clear out? —
Threats of exposure.'

Eleanor says, ‘Don't be crude and literal, Heloise. This
has been a tiring night. I wish you had bought some decent carrots for my
juice.'

‘You have to be frank with these types,' Heloise
says.

‘They don't connect,' says Pablo.

‘Come on, let's go,' says Anne to Alex, whose eyes brim
with tears.

They follow Mr Samuel to the back door and leave the
house.

‘Heloise,' says Lister, ‘as I was saying, you're
pregnant.'

Mr Samuel comes back into the room as Heloise gives out
her laughter.

Mr Samuel says, ‘They've locked the doors of the car.
Evidently they're going on a trip round the grounds.'

Mr McGuire goes to the window in the dark pantry office.
‘They've gone round to the front of the house,' he says.

‘Let them prowl,' says Lister. ‘About your condition,
Heloise. There's a solution to your problem.'

‘It's no problem,' says Heloise.

‘You marry the Baron,' says Lister, ‘and become the
Baroness.'

Pablo says, ‘He's gone to meet his Maker. He shoots the
wife and secretary when they talk too fast. Then he shoots himself, according to
the script. He sorts out the mix-up the only way he knows.'

‘Eleanor has found some new evidence,' Lister says. ‘It
was quite unforeseen, but one foresees the unforeseen. He in the attic is the
Baron's younger brother. Heir to the title, and under the terms of the Trust,
most of the fortune.'

‘I thought he was related to her, not him,' says
Hadrian.

‘He's a nephew or something, isn't he?' Clovis says. ‘If
not, I have to amend the script.'

‘A younger brother of the Baron.'

‘He turns my milk,' says Heloise.

‘Mine too,' says Lister. ‘But he's the heir.'

‘There's the young brother Rudolph in Brazil,' says Mr
Samuel. ‘He was always thought to be the heir. All that money.'

‘The one in Brazil is younger than him in the attic,'
Eleanor says. ‘Him in the attic is next in line. He inherits. Sister Barton knew
what she was doing when she sent for the Reverend tonight and offered to marry
her patient out of pity.'

The Reverend has opened his eyes on hearing himself
referred to. He has sat up, rather refreshed after his nap.

‘My poor boy in the attic,' he says. ‘Sister Barton is a
fine woman. I think it should be done.'

‘He in the attic has prior responsibilities,' says
Lister. ‘Does anyone know his Christian name?'

‘I never heard it mentioned,' says Heloise.

‘Sister Barton calls him Tony,' says the Reverend.

‘His name,' says Lister, ‘is Gustav Anthony Klopstock.
It's on his birth certificate, his medical certificate exempting him from army
service, and it's in their father's will.'

‘The Registers?' says the Reverend.

‘He's also mentioned in a social register for 1949.
That's the latest we have in the house. It occurred to me he must have died, but
I was wrong. I admit we were in error,' Lister says. ‘But fortunately we left
room for error, and having discovered it in time, here we are. There is a vast
difference between events that arise from and those that merely follow after
each other. Those that arise are preferable. And Clovis amends his script.'

‘I wouldn't have married him for choice,' says Heloise.
‘He doesn't cognate.'

‘You don't have to cognate with him,' says Hadrian. ‘You
only need get your marriage-lines in black and white.'

‘Reverend,' says Lister, ‘do you recall that night last
June when the Klopstocks were away and him in the attic got loose? Remember we
called you in to catch him and calm him down?'

‘Poor boy, I remember, of course,' says the Reverend. ‘He
didn't know what he was doing.'

‘He's not officially certified,' says Eleanor. ‘The Baron
and Baroness wouldn't hear of it.'

‘That's true,' Lister says. ‘And I wish to draw the
Reverend's attention to the result of that rampage last June.' Lister indicates
Heloise who smiles at her stomach.

‘Good gracious me!' says the Reverend. ‘I wouldn't have
thought he had it in him.'

‘We must lose no time,' says Lister getting up. ‘Prepare
the drawing-room, Eleanor. It's past five o'clock. I'll go and give orders to
Sister Barton.'

‘I would need a few days,' says the Reverend firmly. ‘You
can't marry people like this.'

‘It's a special case, Reverend. You can't refuse. In
fact, you may not refuse. Look at poor Heloise, her condition.'

The central posy of violets is missing from the funeral
wreath which lies under the shower in the scullery bathroom being gently
sprinkled to keep it fresh. Heloise in her bedroom holds the posy in her hands.
Pablo stands by admiringly. ‘I've unpacked all my things again,' he says.

‘What a business,' she says. ‘Nobody needed to pack their
things, after all. All those trunks and suitcases.'

Hadrian appears at the door of her room holding the white
mink coat lately left in the cloak-room by Victor Passerat. ‘Just right for the
occasion,' she says, putting it on.

‘Lister says it has to go back in the cloak-room
immediately after the ceremony,' Hadrian says. ‘The police will want to know
what coat he was wearing. Lister is keen that the police should see this coat.
It speaks volumes, Lister says.'

‘It doesn't meet in the front,' Heloise says.

‘You look nice,' Pablo says.

There is a knock at the door and Irene walks in.

‘You really going to marry him?' she says.

‘Sure,' says Heloise. ‘Why not?'

‘Then you'll need some music,' Irene says. ‘How can you
have a wedding without music?'

‘Eleanor could play the grand piano,' says Hadrian.

‘No,' says Heloise. ‘I like Eleanor but she's got a
lovely touch on the piano. I can't stand that lovely touch.'

‘Mr Samuel plays the piano and also the guitar,' Pablo
says. ‘Mr Samuel energises.'

‘Bring down the gramophone,' says Heloise. ‘That's
better; because Mr Samuel will be taking the photographs and Mr McGuire has to
do the sound-track. This thing's got to go on record. It's got to compass.'

‘It's still stormy,' says Hadrian as a flash of lightning
stands for a second in the square pane of the window. A clap of thunder follows
it. ‘There must be trees felled in the park,' he says.

‘I shall arrange for them,' says Heloise, ‘to be swept up
some time tomorrow. Let's go down to the room. They're all waiting.'

Upstairs there is a scuffle and a howl.

‘Isn't it usual for the bridegroom to arrive first?' says
Irene.

‘It's all right if he's late on account of his health,'
says Pablo. ‘Let's go.'

•

‘Clara,' says the porter, ‘your tea, dearest.
It's nearly half-past five, and I'm early bringing it up. I've got the jitters,
somehow. I've just got orders not to open the gate before eight and after that,
let everyone in. “Absolutely everyone.” Can you understand it? Why should
everyone come at eight in the morning?'

‘Oh, my dreams, Theo,' she says, sitting up in bed and
reaching for her frilly bed-jacket. She puts it on and takes her tea from Theo's
waiting hand.

‘He said, “Let everyone in after eight o'clock, not
before.” This job's beyond me, Clara. We have to move on.'

‘Oh, but I love this little house. It was always what I
wanted. You know I think the Baroness got sentimental with one of the
secretaries. I think she's going to run away with him.'

‘Those two strange ones who came in the green car asking
for Victor Passerat all the time,' Theo says. ‘They came back up here a few
minutes ago. They didn't get to see Victor Passerat. Now they're anxious to go
home but I've got orders not to let them out. The gates don't open till eight,
then everyone, absolutely everyone, can come and go as they please.'

‘Where have they gone then, those two?'

‘Back to the house to wait there.'

‘Do you know, Theo, the one that sat beside the driver
doesn't look like a lady. Very hard face. Like a man.'

‘Don't dwell on it, Clara dearest.'

The drawing-room is being re-arranged for the wedding.
Irene and Eleanor bustle and give orders to Pablo and Hadrian who are moving
chairs and tables. The Reverend wanders with a perplexed air from one end of the
room to the other, carefully piloting himself around the busy workers, weaving
in and out between the minute tables and small sofas, and puzzling his brow
absentmindedly at the tiny portraits and litter of small ornaments.

‘I really think,' says the Reverend, pulling his
press-cutting out of his pocket, ‘that Baron Klopstock should take this
pill.'

‘Too far gone,' says Hadrian, standing back to see if the
table he has placed beside another squares off neatly. ‘He's past caring.'

Clovis comes in with an embroidered tablecloth which he
lays carefully across the two oblong tables which Hadrian has placed end-to-end.
‘It makes a very good altar,' says Clovis. He snaps his fingers. ‘A large
candelabrum from the dining-room!' he shouts. Irene skips out of the room, while
Lister with Heloise on his arm appears in the doorway of the ante-room at the
far end.

The Reverend puts his press-cutting back in his
pocket.

Eleanor says, ‘We are to use the Book of Common Prayer
appointed to be read in the Church of England.'

The Reverend says, ‘I always marry according to the
Evangelical Waldensian form, which is very free.'

‘Heloise,' calls Eleanor, her voice rising on the last
syllable, ‘what religion are you?'

‘None,' says Heloise. She lets go Lister's arm, comes in
from the ante-room and relaxes into a comfortable chair.

‘What religion were you brought up in?' says the
Reverend.

‘None,' says Heloise.

‘Where were you born?'

‘Lyons,' says Heloise, ‘but that was by chance.'

‘It should be Evangelical,' says the Reverend.

‘In this house it is the Book of Common Prayer,' Eleanor
says. ‘Do you want her to have that child out of wedlock? We haven't all night
to spend arguing, Reverend. The father has assented but he might change his
mind.'

‘Let me see the English book, then,' says the Reverend.
‘I have it within my competence to make exceptions in a case like this. Perhaps
I could simplify the English form. I don't read well in English, you know.'