Red In The Morning (24 page)

“‘Go and look,’ I said, trembling.

“‘Secondly, these three men made off in a car.’

“‘They didn’t,’ I yelled. ‘They couldn’t. Their car was done in.’

“‘Thirdly, you may be sure that they have been stopped by now. All the roads have been closed, and we only await the news that they are under arrest. And then you shall help us, Monsieur; for you shall identify them.’

“‘Don’t you know they were masked?’ I said.

“‘What of that? We shall mask them again.’

“I began to wonder if I was losing my wits.

“‘Look here,’ I said. ‘Police or no police, you’ve got the wrong sow by the ear. Your theories may be superb, but I am dealing with facts. The stuff is lying next door. Take me out and I’ll find it and you can take it away. And if you put three men there, when the robber-chief comes back you’ll get him, too.’

“The other drew himself up.

“‘This is not,’ he said, ‘the theft of a bicycle. We are dealing with desperate assassins – whom we shall outwit. Never fear that, Monsieur. But it is by reading their brains that we shall bring them to book.’

“I won’t repeat my reply – which I don’t think he got. This may have been as well. In any event just then a local photographer arrived – with his wife, to play assistant and help him to change his plates. It seemed they were friends of the other, for they all shook hands once or twice and the policeman asked after their dog.

“Then he returned to me.

“‘Monsieur will excuse me,’ he said. ‘He may not perhaps comprehend the highly important part which the camera always plays in the detection of crime.’

“I looked at him very hard.

“‘Mind you photograph the piano,’ I said.

“‘Why the piano, Monsieur?’

“‘Because the thieves didn’t play it. That ought to send them down.’

“I think he suspected that saying. Anyway, a moment later I was back in the morning-room. And there I stayed for four sodden, soul-searing hours, listening to my colleagues explaining how, but for the presence of the ladies, they would have dealt with the thieves.

“At half-past six my name and address were taken and I was allowed to withdraw. And, as I stepped on to the pavement, I saw a workman approaching, suitcase in hand. I need hardly say he had come from the half-built house. He showed it to an
agent
: and after an altercation, the
agent
shrugged his shoulders and carried it into the villa, to show it, I suppose, to his chief.

“I admit I was greatly surprised, for it meant, of course, that the big shot had not been back. Still, at least, it confirmed my story – which warmed my heart. If only I’d known…

“From then on, for fourteen days, the police never left me alone. They declared they had found the jewels before I had opened my mouth: but they wanted to know how I knew where the jewels had been parked. I told them a stranger had told me – a passer-by: that I didn’t know him from Adam and hadn’t seen his features because it was dark. And then I asked what it mattered – because he’d have kept his counsel, if he was a rogue. And then, at last, they said the obvious thing. They said that the passer-by must have seen the robber-chief.

“I must have made twenty statements – and signed the lot. Wherever I went, there was some policeman waiting, to ask me some drivelling question, like the date of my father’s birth. Then some wallah comes down from Paris, an’ they start all over again. Identification parades of people I’d never seen. Evil-smelling offices. Statements in triplicate. Furtive consultations, to which I was not admitted, although I was three yards off. Hand-shakings
ad nauseam
– I shook hands with a prisoner one day, supposing him to be the detective who had him in charge. Believe me, the mistake was venial. But when I heard what he was charged with, I felt that I’d done enough. So I just packed up and withdrew – and here I am.

“I need hardly say that the robber-chief and his band are still at large. And so long as they stick to France, I should say they’re as safe as a wolf in a barn full of sheep. But if they were taken tomorrow, I shouldn’t care. You see, I’ve lost interest in the matter. They say you don’t care for the play, when once you’ve been conducted behind the scenes.”

“I apologize, Toby,” said Mansel. “I never dreamed you’d meet it as badly as that. The French are officious, of course: and that shortens my life. But sometimes they’re very good. And now come and dine with us. What have you done with Cicely all this time?

“Cicely,” said Toby, “is due in seven days. I’ve wired to her to meet me in San Sebastian – that should be safe by then. I suppose she’s still alive. You see, she’s visiting cousins – fine, deep-chested brutes, with enormous hands, that ‘take a dip’ before breakfast and ‘never feel so fit’ as after thirty-six holes in the driving rain. So I thought I’d give them a miss. Brief life is here our portion, so why make it briefer, still?”

Toby was like a tonic. I think I laughed more that evening than I had laughed for years.

Two days later we dined beside The Rock.

And within the week I was back at Maintenance.

With my arms about my darling –

“Jenny,” I said, “there was a time, my sweet, when I’d every reason to think that I’d never see you again.”

“I know,” she said. “On a Friday. The thirty-first of July. I couldn’t sit still that day and I couldn’t sleep that night. And then very early next morning, I knew you were safe. And now tell me everything.”

And so I did. And I gave her Mona’s notebook, as Mona had bade me do.

When she had studied the letter –

“I’d love to know her,” said Jenny. “We feel the same about things.”

Seven months had gone by, and Jenny and I were in Town. We had had to come up for a wedding, and should have stayed with Mansel in Cleveland Row: but he was away. So we had stayed at the Savoy. And now we were about to be gone.

We had lunched at half-past twelve, for we wished to be home for tea, and Maintenance was roughly a hundred miles away.

I had paid our bill and our luggage was in the Rolls, which was waiting, with Bell at the wheel, upon the Embankment side.

I finished my coffee and rose.

“Ready, my darling?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll get my coat.”

I crossed the floor to the cloakroom…

As I was coming back, I almost collided with Mona, who had just descended the steps.

She looked away at once, but I caught her arm.

“Why, Mona!”

And then I saw the stricken look in her face.

“Keep clear of me, Richard. Any moment now I’m going to be under arrest.”

I drew her arm through mine and held it tight.

“No, you’re not,” I said. “You’re going to get into the Rolls.”

I beckoned to Jenny and urged her away from the steps.

As Jenny came up –

“This is Mona,” I said, “of whom I have told you so much.”

“Oh, I’m so glad,” cried Jenny.

“She’s in a hurry, my sweet, so we’ll talk in the car.”

“Richard,” cried Mona, “it’s hopeless. I–”

“It damned well will be,” said I, “if you won’t do as I say.”

Mona gave the ghost of a laugh.

“All right. I’ll go quietly,” she said. “But wait till you know the truth.”

“Where are you staying?” I said.

She named an hotel that stands in Kensington Gore.

“We’ll drive there first. You can talk as we go along.”

In less than a minute, I think, we were all in the Rolls; and Bell was driving as fast as ever he dared.

Mona was speaking jerkily, with Jenny’s arm about her and Jenny’s hand upon hers.

“I’d meant to lunch in the grill-room. As I came in, I saw a man called Gonzales, a Portuguese. And he saw me.

“It was the damnedest misfortune. I think he’s the only man who could send me down. Nearly a year ago, I – met him in Portugal. Only for a moment, of course: but he never forgets a face. He’s a very big banker – Gonzales. And thirty thousand pounds is a lot of money to lose.”

“Go on, Mona,” I said.

“I don’t think he thought I saw him: I gave no sign. I took my seat at a table… At once he rose and went to the telephone… The moment his back was turned, I left the room. And then I ran into you.”

“You’re wanted in Portugal?”

“Yes.”

“Extradition,” I said. “I wish I knew the law.”

“He’ll get all he wants from the Yard. He’s a very big man.”

“Won’t a warrant have to be issued?”

“They can detain me, Richard, at any time.”

“If you’re recognized – yes.”

“She must come to Maintenance, Richard.”

“Never,” cried Mona. “Never. I’m not going to foul your nest.”

“It isn’t that,” said I. “But Maintenance isn’t safe. I can’t shut the servants’ mouths, and if she was seen leaving with us, the police will be there tonight. And now let me think, you two.”

“I knew he’d say that,” said Jenny.

“So did I,” said Mona. “But I’m up against it, Jenny. Richard, you know I am. This isn’t France.”

“You’re telling me,” said I. “All the more important that you should let me think.”

If Gonzales was known to the Yard and could speak with a big enough man, Mona Lelong’s position was grave indeed. Unless she could leave the country, she would be laid by the heels in forty-eight hours. Yet, before I could get her to Dover, the port would be watched. Croydon was out of the question – criminals fancy the air. And if she could board some liner, long before she could land, the wireless would pick her up. And then I thought of the SS
Harvest Moon
.

I had seen her name in the papers. The ship was about to sail on a luxury cruise. And I knew Geoffrey Majoribanks – who was a powerful man on the Black Moon line.

It seemed the only chance. The police might rule her out, for luxury liners bring back their human freight. If Mona went aboard at Southampton, to Southampton she would have to return – unless she could disappear at one of the ports of call.

As the Rolls came to rest –

“By what name does Gonzales know you?”

“Christine Lefevre,” said Mona.

“I see. Now you’re going to pack and be ready in half an hour. We shall be back by then.”

“I’m going to help her,” said Jenny.

“What could be better?” said I. “And no rot this time, Mona. You’re going to be in the hall when I come back.”

“Very well,” said Mona, dully. “I oughtn’t to let you do this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

I saw them out of the Rolls. Then I took the seat beside Bell and told him to drive to Pall Mall.

“My dear old fellow,” said Geoffrey, “you’re just four weeks too late. The
Harvest Moon
sails tomorrow, but she’s been full up for a month. It’s a very popular cruise – Gibraltar, Naples, Corfu and the Isles of Greece.”

“Room for a little one,” said I. “She’s badly in need of a change – and a very great friend of ours.”

Geoffrey fingered his chin.

Then he picked up a telephone.

“Send me Mr Collins,” he said…

Mr Collins raised his eyebrows.

“There’s Seventy-two, Mr Majoribanks.”

“And nothing else.”

“Not a berth, let alone a cabin.”

Geoffrey turned to me.

“Cabin Seventy-two is one that we seldom sell. It is ‘a director’s cabin’: but, as it’s so late in the day, I think I can take the risk. It’s a very nice, two-berth cabin. To a friend of yours, say, a hundred and twenty pounds.”

I took my chequebook out.

“I’m very grateful, Geoffrey.”

“That’s all right. What’s her name?”

“Miss Mona Lelong, of Rydal. We’ll take her down to the ship. What time does she sail?”

“Half-past four. They’ll let her aboard at two.”

Five minutes later the ticket was in my hands.

“Well, goodbye, Geoffrey. And thank you very much.”

“That’s all right, old fellow. Give Jenny my love.”

Much less than three hours later, the Rolls slipped out of Winchester and on to the Lyndhurst road.

Mona’s nerve had come back, but her eyes were strained.

“Soon be there now,” I said. “Is everything clear?”

“Yes, my dear. You lunch with me tomorrow at one o’clock. I am all packed and ready before you come. And at two o’clock we leave for Southampton docks.”

“Swear you won’t – let me down.”

“I swear I won’t. But I feel very badly about it. If you get involved, I’ll never forgive myself.”

I turned to Jenny.

“That from Mona – who saved your husband’s life.”

Jenny set her cheek against Mona’s.

“You saved two lives,” she said.

Then the two of them talked together, while I sat back in my corner and tried very hard to foresee what the next few hours would bring forth.

It was not quite five o’clock when we set Mona down at the door of The Grand Hotel. And the stable clock struck six, as we came to Maintenance.

We had dined, as we always do, at half-past eight, and now we were sitting together before the library fire.

“Will it be all right, Richard?”

“I hope it will, my beauty. If I can get her aboard, we’re halfway home.”

“Only halfway?”

I nodded.

“She’ll be in danger as long as she’s on the ship. Once she lands at Naples, she’s out of the jurisdiction.”

“When will she get to Naples?”

“Not for ten days,” I said.

There was a little silence.

Then –

“And if the police come here?”

“I think I can fob them off. Once she’s gone, they can sit on the mat all day. But I must have tomorrow off. I hope if they see me go hunting, they’ll leave it there.”

“When’s Jonathan coming back?”

“I’ve no idea, my sweet. I wish I had.”

“He couldn’t have done any more.”

“He’s quicker than I am, Jenny.”

“Perhaps he is: but he couldn’t have done any more.”

Here Bell came in with a salver.

I picked up the card.

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR GOALBY. CID

“Thank God it’s not Falcon,” I said. “All right. I’ll see him here, Bell. Jenny, my sweet, you sit in the drawing-room.”

Jenny stooped and kissed me and left the room.

A moment later the visitor was announced.

I got to my feet.

“Good evening, Inspector. What can I do for you?”

“I’m looking for a lady, sir. I think she’s a friend of yours.”

I frowned.

“When you say ‘looking’,” said I…

Goalby nodded abruptly.

“I’ve a warrant for her arrest.”

I opened my eyes.

“What’s the charge?” said I.

“Uttering forged banknotes – to the sterling value of thirty thousand pounds.”

“Good God,” said I. “You must want her very much.”

“A Portuguese banker does, sir.”

“I see. Well, please get this. Friends of mine do not utter forged banknotes. If they did, they wouldn’t be friends of mine.”

Goalby seemed taken aback. When he spoke again, his manner was much less assured.

“Perhaps I should have said ‘an acquaintance of yours’.”

“That’s better,” I said. “I knock about quite a lot and I meet all sorts and kinds. Still, I can’t think of anyone–”

“At the Savoy, sir. Today. You took her off in your car.”

“What, Miss de Winton?” I said.

“That may be one of her names.”

“A tall, dark girl, with a very striking face.”

“That would be her, sir. Dressed in a blue costume and wearing a mink fur coat. Where did you drive her to?”

I motioned him to a chair and took my seat on the kerb.

“I think you’re wrong,” I said, “but here we go. I drove her straight to the Ritz – at her own request. I was going that way myself, when I ran into her in the hall. It seemed she had a luncheon appointment, which she was most anxious to keep. This was at the Ritz. Without thinking what she was doing, she had driven to the Savoy. Only when she looked round the grill-room, did she remember that she should have gone to the Ritz. And she hadn’t a penny left – in her purse, I mean. She’d given her last half-crown to the taxi that brought her there. And so she fell upon me.”

“That was the tale she told you?”

“It was perfectly credible. And I had no reason to think that she wasn’t telling the truth.”

“How well do you know her, Mr Chandos?”

“Not very well. I met her at Biarritz last summer. Danced with her once or twice.”

“Christian name?”

“I didn’t use it. I think she was called Elise.”

“And you set her down at the Ritz. At which entrance, please?”

That meant he was going to see Bell. Well, let him. My servant knew what to say.

“The Piccadilly entrance,” I said.

“And then?”

“We drove down here,” I said.

“May I know what time you arrived?”

“I really couldn’t tell you,” I said. “Later than we had intended, for one of our tyres gave in, and we had to change a wheel.”

“That wouldn’t take long, Mr Chandos – not today.”

“As a matter of hard fact, it took us forty minutes: we couldn’t shift the hub cap – it hadn’t been off for years.”

A car cannot talk, but the Rolls would bear me out. She was washed by now, but one of her tyres was flat.

Goalby stared at his notebook.

“It’s a wicked case, Mr Chandos; and we are very anxious to help the Portuguese. And there are other aspects. For more than five years now, batches of beautiful notes have been uttered all over the place. It seems likely – extremely likely – that if we get Miss de Winton, the issue will cease. I’m sure you wouldn’t allow any personal sympathy–”

“Miss de Winton,” I said, “is nothing to me. I’m always sorry to see a lady go down; but I shouldn’t risk my freedom to help a casual acquaintance, because I met her at Biarritz and danced with her once or twice.”

“She’s a woman, Mr Chandos. From all I’m told, a highly attractive girl.”

“That’s perfectly true. And I should swear that the banker had made a mistake, if I didn’t know for a fact that more than one topnotcher is really a crook.”

Goalby got to his feet.

“Well, that’s all for tonight, Mr Chandos. I may have to ask you to let me see you again.”

“Whenever you please,” said I.

“Tomorrow, perhaps?”

“Tomorrow evening with pleasure. Tomorrow’s a hunting day.”

Goalby looked at me very hard.

“I see. May I see your chauffeur?”

“Of course.”

I stepped to the bell.

“I’ll see him alone, if I may, sir.”

“By all means.” Bell entered the room. “The Inspector wants to ask you some questions. Take him into the morning-room.”

“Very good, sir.”

I turned to Goalby.

“Will you want me again tonight?”

“Not tonight, sir, thank you.”

“Good night,” I said.

I brought Jenny back, and the two of us sat in silence, till Bell re-entered the room.

I raised my eyebrows.

“He’s gone, sir.”

“He’s not very satisfied, Bell.”

“Not altogether, sir. He’s spending the night at The Crown. Asked where the meet was tomorrow: so I told him Gallowstree Hill.” This was quite true. But the Blackmore Vale is not the only hunt. Other hounds were to meet at Flourish, which lay some thirty-five miles from Gallowstree Hill. “He asked what time you’d leave, sir: and I said I thought about ten.”

“So I shall,” said I. “D’you think we can count on Walter?”

“I think so, sir. He’ll leave at half-past six.”

“Very well,” I said. “We can’t do anything more.”

I told Jenny all that had happened, and when we had talked for a little, we went to bed.

Had I had a little longer, I could, I think, have made a better plan: but the devil was driving hard, so I had to make my bricks of what straw there was.

At half-past six a groom would leave for Flourish, leading Romford and riding my second horse. He would put them up at a little inn that I knew, until I arrived in the Rolls at eleven o’clock.
But if I did not come, he would keep them stabled till four and then bring them home
. At ten o’clock, I should leave in the Rolls, in hunting dress. Bell would be driving me. In a barn near Flourish, I should change. And from there we should make for Lyndhurst as fast as ever we could. Once Mona was safe aboard, we should return to the barn, where I should change again. Then I should foul my boots and return to Maintenance.