Trusted Like The Fox (11 page)

“You don’t know what you’ve missed,” Crane went on easily. “It’s a grand game.” He suddenly looked sharply at Rogers, who became even more uneasy. “What on earth are you doing up here, Rogers? After poachers or something?”

“No, sir,” Rogers returned miserably, looking at Grace. “It was the young lady, sir.” He glanced round and saw the Club Secretary and the Captain of the Team pounding along towards them. “These gentlemen will explain.”

Crane took hold of Grace’s arm.

“Let’s see what all this is about,” he said as she met his eyes. “Surely they’re not making a fuss because I forgot to pay your green fee,” and he laughed to show he was joking. He seemed calm, and Grace made an effort to seem calm herself, although her legs were so shaky she had difficulty in standing up. Together they walked towards the two men who had come to an abrupt standstill when they saw Crane. Rogers followed them.

“Good morning,” Crane said cheerily to the Club Secretary. “You seem to be taking some pretty violent exercise this morning. May I introduce my sister, Mrs Brewer, who’s staying with me?”

The Club Secretary, red in the face and panting, opened his mouth and then abruptly shut it. His eyes bulged as he glared at Grace:

“Your sister?” the Captain of the Team repeated blankly. She’s staying with you?”

“Don’t look so surprised,” Crane returned, smiling. “I’m not doing anything out of the way by entertaining my sister, am I?”

“Of course not,” the Captain of the Team said hurriedly. (“His sister, my foot,” he thought. “She’s no more his sister than I am. Why, she’s a shop-girl, a chit. Good Lord! Looks as if we’d run into a delicate situation. I suppose she’s his fancy piece for the night. I wonder if West has cottoned on to the situation.”)

“Julie,” Crane said to Grace, “this is Mr Malcolm, the Captain of the Club team (such as it is), and that gentleman who is so short of breath is Mr West, the Club Secretary. The gentleman in blue is George Rogers, who bowls for the village cricket team when he is not arresting deserving labourers for pinching a stray rabbit.”

Grace forced a smile to her frozen face. The three men regarded her with mixed feelings. They said nothing.

“Mrs Brewer is deaf,” Crane went on calmly. “She lip reads, but she may not understand everything you say, so she’ll excuse you for not welcoming her on the first visit to the club.”

West, the Club Secretary, looked awkward, muttered something about being delighted to meet Mrs Brewer.

“The fact of the matter is the clubhouse has been broken into,” Malcolm said, determined if he could to make Crane uncomfortable (confounded check of the fellow to bring his piece up on the course), “and a number of articles are missing. We saw Mrs Brewer on the course, realised she was not a member and called to her. She promptly ran away and we told Rogers to go after her.”

Crane raised his eyebrows. “You told Rogers to go after her!” he repeated. “What on earth for?” He suddenly frowned. “You’re not suggesting that my sister has anything to do with your robbery, are you?”

Malcolm, who was a lawyer by profession, suddenly realised that he would have to be careful.

“Of course not, my dear chap,” he said, and laughed. “Only it did seem odd that Mrs Brewer should run away as she did.”

“I had no idea it was considered odd for anyone to run on the course,” Crane said drily. He looked at West. “I can’t remember seeing anything against running in your local rules.”

“Please be reasonable,” West said uncomfortably. “Rogers called to Mrs Brewer and she promptly ran away. She is a stranger and naturally we were a little suspicious . . .”

“I’ve already told you my sister is deaf,” Crane returned patiently. “The subject is a painful one. She didn’t hear Rogers call and she was running because she wanted to catch me up. I had promised to give her a golf lesson and she was late. Now are you satisfied or do you really want to pursue this stupid business?”

Rogers thought it was time to say something. “That’s quite all right, sir,” he said eagerly. “I quite understand how the mistake occurred, and I hope I haven’t inconvenienced the young lady.” He was most anxious that Crane shouldn’t complain to his inspector. “Well, we’ll get back to the clubhouse. I think this chap made off in the woods.”

Grace started imperceptibly. Only Crane, who was holding her arm, noticed her sudden agitation.

“It’s no use looking for him in the woods,” he said smoothly. “I think I saw the fellow as I came on to the course. He was walking towards the woods, but he turned off and headed for the railway.”

“You saw him, sir?” Rogers asked, brightening.

Crane nodded, aware that Grace was watching him. “It must have been the chap. He was carrying a large bundle under his arm. I suppose you want a description?”

Rogers had taken out his notebook and was already moistening the blunt pencil point with his tongue.

“If you please, sir,” he said.

“He was a young chap, about nineteen, I should think,” Crane said without hesitation. “Tall, dark hair, in a blue suit and brown shoes. He had on a green shirt and a black tie. He wore no hat and he had a slight limp. A pretty easy fellow to spot if you’re quick.”

“That’s so, sir,” Rogers returned, beaming. “Well, I’ll get off. Thank you, sir, very much for your help, and I apologise again for any . . .”

“That’s all right, Rogers,” Crane said, nodding. “I hope you catch the chap. He looked at West and Malcolm. “Now may we go on with our interrupted game?”

“Of course,” West said stiffly. “You’ll pay Mrs Brewer’s green fee when you come in?”

“I wouldn’t dream of forgetting,” Crane said mockingly. “Sorry you had all that run for nothing.” He touched Grace’s arm and together they walked towards the distant green, leaving West and Malcolm to stare after them.

CHAPTER TEN

“He’s unconscious,” Crane said, his fingers on Ellis’s pulse. “We’ll have to get a doctor for him at once. I’m afraid he’s pretty bad.”

Grace wrung her hands. It was all going wrong. Ellis had said, “If you get a doctor we’re sunk. You’ve got to work this out for yourself. I’d rather die than be caught.” She had tried to get rid of Crane as soon as Malcolm and West were out of sight, but he wouldn’t listen to any of her excuses. He was kind and sympathetic, but firm, and she suspected her feeble efforts to evade his questions merely amused him, although he did not show it. A direct quest trapped her into admitting that she had a companion who was ill.

“I knew it,” Crane said, smiling at her. “Don’t look so tragic. I knew you must have someone with you because you took those clothes. Then I noticed the stretcher was missing and saw the handkerchief on the tree. That’s where he is, isn’t it? In the wood?”

She nodded miserably.

“Well, cheer up. If he’s ill I may be able to help him.”

She instinctively felt that he would not give them away to the police, and besides, she did not know what else to do, so she led him to the place where she had hidden Ellis, but now he was talking about a doctor — the one person Ellis had particularly warned her against.

“Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “He wouldn’t wish it. He said I wasn’t to call a doctor.”

Crane studied Ellis’s flushed face, wondered who he was and why this odd, deaf girl seemed so scared.

“He’s not in the position to choose,” he reminded her. “Don’t you understand? He’s very ill — he may die.”

She flinched. “I can’t help it,” she said stubbornly. “He wouldn’t wish it. He made me promise.” She added after a pause, “a promise is a promise.”

“But he might die,” Crane repeated patiently.

“He knew that. He said he’d rather die than be — She stopped in time, horrified she had so nearly given away their secret.

“Than be — what?”

“Oh, nothing. It doesn’t matter. But you mustn’t call a doctor. I can look after him. I — I won’t let him die.”

Crane remained kneeling beside the unconscious Ellis for a moment, then he shrugged, stood up.

“Who is he?” he asked abruptly.

“A friend of mine,” she returned guardedly. Feeling she should say more, she added, “he’s been good to me.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything. Who is he? What’s happened to his leg?”

“He fell. It’s broken, but I’ve set it. I think it’ll be all right.” She looked away, silent, a stubborn expression in her eyes.

Crane frowned. “I would like to help you,” he said, touching her arm so that she should know he was speaking. The touch of his fingers on the soft leather jerkin sent a little shiver of pleasure through her. It was a strange feeling that she had never before experienced and she felt blood rush to her face.

“I can help you if you’ll tell me the truth,” he went on, not appearing to notice her embarrassment. “Who are you? What are you two doing here? What sort of trouble are you in?”

She longed to tell him, to be able to share the responsibility with him, but she knew how angry Ellis would be if she did, and that he would consider she had betrayed him.

“Please leave me alone,” she burst out, her mind crawling with sudden panic. “I don’t want your help. I want to be left alone. Please go away.”

He shook his head. “Don’t get excited,” he said, smiling. “All right, I won’t ask any more questions, but I’m not leaving you. You can’t manage alone. You may think you can, but it’s not possible. If you don’t get him under cover and give him proper care, he’ll die. It looks to me like pneumonia.” His green eyes searched her face. “Would you mind if he dies?”

She nodded at once. “Oh, yes, he’s been good to me,” she said. “And I promised he wouldn’t die.”

“And a promise is a promise,” he said, teasing her. He looked again at Ellis. shouldn’t have thought he would have been good to anyone,” he went on thoughtfully. “There’s much cruelty and bitterness in that face.”

She knew how cruel and bitter Ellis could be, but that made no difference now. He had helped her when she most needed help, knowing that there would come a time when she would repay him: that time had come.

“We must get on,” Crane said abruptly. “The local inspector isn’t a simpleton. He wouldn’t have been put off with the tale I told Rogers, and he would have noticed the stretcher was missing.” He bent over Ellis, stared thoughtfully. This chap’s going to die if we’re not careful. You take the foot of the stretcher and I’ll take the head. I don’t think he’ll be too heavy for you.”

Grace hesitated. “Where are we going?”

“To my place. There’s nowhere else. At least I don’t know of any other place. Do you?”

She said, “No,” slowly.

“Well then, come on.”

Still she hesitated. What would Ellis say to her when he recovered to find himself in a stranger’s house? She cringed, remembering his sneering eyes and bitter tongue.

“There’s no other way,” Crane said gently. He was patient and kind, appearing to understand why she hesitated.

She nodded wearily, grasped the handles of the stretcher. It was heavy, but nothing seemed to matter to her now. She hadn’t succeeded in getting Ellis out of this mess, and she was crushed by her failure.

She walked down the narrow path, up a slight incline and then down through more trees. The stretcher bowed her down, but she kept on, staggering a little as she walked. She would have liked to have heard an encouraging word from Crane, and for the second time that day, her deafness swamped her with misery.

A few minutes of walking brought them out of the wood to a narrow lane. At the end of the lane she caught sight of a red tiled roof, and guessed rightly that this was Crane’s house.

She looked back inquiringly over her shoulder.

“It’s all right,” he said. “There’s no one there. Go straight on. We won’t meet anyone.”

She continued up the lane until she reached a wooden gate leading to the house. Then she set down the stretcher, aware that her arms ached and her knees were weak. She pushed open the gate as Crane came up to help her.

“The sooner we get him into the house the better,” he said, looking up and down the lane. “Few people come this way, but we mustn’t take chances.”

Ellis groaned suddenly, startling Crane, who glanced at him sharply. Ellis half sat up, blinked round, his hand going to his head.

Grace went to him. She supported his head and peered at him anxiously, but he didn’t seem to recognise her and a moment later his eyes closed and he dropped back.

“Let’s get him inside,” Crane said, looking worried.

They went up the twisting drive, carrying the stretcher between them. Once clear of the sheltering hedges and trees, Grace saw the house. It was a big white bungalow with a staring red roof and red-painted window-frames. There was a gayness about the building that pleased her. It stood in a garden bursting with colour and fertility, and the big lawn, stretching away to overshadowing trees, was like a billiard table.

At the front door, she paused, set the stretcher down again.

“Well, here we are,” Crane said, coming to her. “You’re safe now. No one ever comes here.”

She didn’t say anything, but waited, wondering what the next move was to be.

He took out his bunch of keys and opened the front door.

“Let’s get him inside,” he said, “and then we can see just how had he is.”

They carried Ellis into the lounge-hall which was so luxuriously furnished that Grace paused to stare round in bewilderment. Crane, moving forward, pushed the stretcher against the back of her knees, making her stagger.

She looked back at him.

“To your right,” he said. “The first door. Can you manage?”

She pulled herself together, opened the door, edged her way into a bright room full of flowers and expensive furniture. By the window was a large divan bed covered with a red and blue embroidered bedspread.

She was glad to set the stretcher down, and she stood back, rubbing her aching arms while she stared round the room. She was stupefied by its comfort and richness; it was something she imagined only existed in furniture catalogues.

“All right,” Crane said, watching her with an amused smile. “We’ll leave him for a moment and get you fixed up. Come along with me.”

“Oh, no,” she said hurriedly. “He’s ill. We mustn’t leave him.”