Call for the Baron Read online

  Morency said easily: ‘Why, Mannering, I’ll be most grateful if you’ll see what you can find.’

  ‘Of course he will,’ said Vere. ‘He’s advising the common-sense course, that’s all. He knows we haven’t got any common sense, eh, John? Let’s get upstairs and see what there is to see.’

  All of them moved towards the door. On none of their faces was there the slightest intimation that anything out of the ordinary had happened. Diana reached Lady Usk’s room first. She walked briskly towards Lady Usk’s inert form, lying full length on her bed. Her hair was dishevelled, her make-up in need of repair, and her eyes wide open but expressionless.

  Tommy gave a helpless gesture.

  ‘She seems struck dumb,’ he murmured. ‘Don’t even know whether she can hear me.’

  Vere said impatiently: ‘She’ll be alright with Di. Let’s see what’s what, eh John?’

  There was little to be seen in the dressing-room, or the bathroom beyond. There was a window, set high in the wall, but too small for a man to get through. The bathroom window was no larger.

  As Mannering looked about him he reflected that he had been in a state bordering on panic when he had first seen the empty safe, and he was angry with himself. The past had seemed to envelop him, and in a trice he had been back in the days when he had been hunted by the police, when a false move could have brought disaster, and when every moment he had been on the qui vive. He did not want to return to those days, and the fact that he had taken fright so easily was disturbing. It was as if he had lost the complete self-control which he had learned so carefully, and which was still sufficiently obvious to make Tommy Armitage comment on it.

  His first thought had been to send for the Veres, and to make sure that no one could say that he had caused any delay. Now that it was done he felt that the fears had been groundless: there was reason enough to believe that he might be able to find out who had forced the safe. That is, if it had been done by someone now in the house, which, as far as it was possible to see at a glance, seemed likely. Certainly neither of the smaller room windows were possible means of entry, and he knew that the larger window was shuttered outside, making at once an effective black-out and a difficult obstacle for a burglar to pass.

  ‘Well, John,’ said Vere impatiently. ‘Do you always sleuth in silence?’

  Mannering shrugged. ‘Let’s have a look at the bedroom window.’

  The others waited for him to go into the larger room. He heard Diana say insistently: ‘Now come, Lady Usk, it’s not as bad as that. We’ll have them back for you in a few hours.’

  Mannering saw the peeress’s eyes turn towards him. In their velvety depths he saw an expression so akin to horror that for a moment he was startled. Then Tommy Armitage passed between him and the woman, and Vere called: ‘Go easy with that blind, Tommy. Black-out, you know.’

  ‘A fig for the black-out,’ said Tommy heartily. ‘Anyhow, there are shutters outside, aren’t there?’ He pulled back the curtain, and the dark insides of the shutters faced him. Mannering looked at the catch on the windows. There was no sign of scratching, and it seemed unlikely that entry had been forced that way.

  ‘Nothing doing?’ asked Tommy, disappointedly.

  ‘It doesn’t look like it,’ said Mannering, ‘I can’t be sure, of course, but it wouldn’t surprise me if entry was made through the door. In any case climbing the walls in the black-out, when a torch could be seen for miles, wouldn’t be easy. I think we can say the door was used.’

  Tommy’s plump face was shining.

  ‘I say, that means—’

  Martin Vere interrupted him sharply. ‘What’s the next Step, Mannering?’

  ‘I think we should bring Cecilie in to look after her mother,’ said Mannering. ‘Then I suggest a chat downstairs. But whatever we do mustn’t take long, Martin. The jewels might still be in the house.’

  ‘Just what I was going to say,’ blurted Armitage. Mannering put a hand on Armitage’s arm.

  ‘Tommy,’ he said, ‘you’ve a chance of doing something really serviceable. Will you go downstairs and wait in the porch? If anyone goes out you’ll be able to identify them. And if we could get one or two reliable servants to watch the other doors, Martin, I think it would be wise. Failing servants we ought to do it ourselves.’

  ‘Ransome, Fraser and Aston are quite reliable,’ said Vere, frowning, ‘but there are five doors.’

  ‘The two small ones can be locked, and we can take the keys out,’ said Diana from the bedside. ‘Don’t be obstructive, darling.’

  ‘Didn’t think of that,’ said Vere. He smiled towards his wife, and started for the door. ‘I’ll send Cecilie along, then. Impress her with the need for silence and all that, won’t you? And then I’ll go down and see to the doors. You and Vic go back to the drawing room, John, will you?’

  ‘Wouldn’t it be better to use the study?’ asked Diana. ‘You won’t be disturbed there.’

  ‘Yes, a good idea,’ said Vere. He seemed unaware of the fact that his wife was guiding him along the course she wanted him to take. The study was on the other side of the landing, but was in a similar position to Lady Usk’s bedroom. Morency sank down in a well-worn leather armchair. He said nothing until he had helped himself to a mild whisky and soda, and then to Mannering’s surprise, he chuckled.

  ‘I suppose you can’t see the funny side, but it is funny, Mannering. I thought this would be the one place in the world where I could have a quiet weekend, and now this.’

  ‘In your place I’d find it trying,’ said Mannering.

  Morency shrugged.

  ‘You voted strongly for the police, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Mannering. He could see that Morency was a little puzzled, and explained casually: ‘That was chiefly because of you. Mabel told me that the Yard sent detect—Good God!’ he exclaimed, ‘I’d forgotten that. You’ve two extra men with you, haven’t you?’

  ‘Why, yes.’ Morency stared. ‘I’d got so used to thinking they were just following me to make sure I didn’t get myself hi-jacked that I forgot they could be useful. Had we better send for them, do you think?’

  ‘I do,’ said Mannering. ‘But we’ll wait for the others first. Do you know their names? Of the Yard men, I mean.’

  Morency wrinkled his forehead.

  ‘There’s a man named Bennett, I think. Yes, Bennett. Rather a quiet, reserved fellow I thought. The other man is a different type, but I just can’t think of his name.’

  Mannering felt a tremendous relief. Bennett, he was sure, had never worked against him during the days when he had been the Baron, and of the second, so far nameless, detective he was reasonably hopeful he could assume the same.

  He had not long to wait, however, for Diana soon arrived, quickly followed by Martin.

  ‘John, I’ve just thought of the two detectives who came with Vic!’

  ‘We’d got round to them too,’ said Mannering.

  ‘I’ll ring for them,’ said Diana, There was a gleam in her eyes as she looked at Mannering. ‘Well, we’ll have shifted the responsibility anyhow. The thing that puzzles me more than anything is Lady Usk.’

  ‘And why?’ asked Morency.

  ‘She just won’t talk.’ Diana looked impatient. ‘I don’t think there’s anything the matter with her at all. She lies there and won’t open her lips. Cecilie took control very well, and I’ve had some tea sent up, but if she’s bent on being obstinate there’s nothing we can do about it. It was a mistake to have her down here, Martin.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Vere gruffly. ‘I wasn’t thinking of her as much as the kid. Her life’s pretty dull, and I thought it would do her good. Instead, she has to dance attendance on that old—oh, never mind,’ Vere broke off. ‘Usk will be down tomorrow, and he can handle his lady.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Diana. ‘I don’t like her expression, though. She looks—’

  She hesitated, and Mannering said quietly: ‘Frightened?’

  ‘Yes, I
suppose so. Of course, it must have been a shock.’ ‘Easy enough to understand,’ said Morency, ‘but what makes you say “frightened”, Mannering?’

  ‘She gave me that impression,’ said Mannering.

  ‘I fancied she wanted to talk to you,’ said Morency. ‘Did you notice it?’

  ‘No. But it could be, I suppose. I saw her jewels before dinner.’ He wondered whether it would be wise to see the peeress and decided to test the theory. It had unexpected confirmation, however, for the door opened as he touched the handle, and Cecilie entered, looking quiet and self-possessed, but more than a little strained.

  ‘My stepmother wants to see you, John. Would you mind coming?’

  Chapter Five

  The Threat

  ‘No,’ said Cecilie, ‘she wouldn’t say what she wanted, or why it had to be you. But she insisted that no one else was to be in the room. I’ve got to stay outside.’ Cecilie uttered a short, harsh laugh which Mannering found disturbing, but he said nothing. Cecilie stopped by the door as Mannering went in. Lady Usk was reclining on her pillows and her face seemed more natural. Her breathing remained short, however, and in her violet eyes there was the expression which had so startled Mannering.

  ‘This—this is so kind of you.’ Her voice was weak, the harshness subdued. He felt overwhelmingly sorry for the woman who leaned forward with a hand outstretched. ‘Oh, I wish I’d kept them on, I wish I had!’

  ‘They’ll find their way back,’ said Mannering reassuringly. ‘I don’t think you need worry about that.’

  ‘I won’t ever see them again,’ said Lady Usk dully. ‘Don’t try to pretend I will, I know. But—but I didn’t want to see you about that, Mr Mannering. You—you saw them, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, all of them.’

  ‘I—I mean the diamonds.’ She was speaking urgently and her breath was warm against his cheeks. ‘You saw them? They were all right, weren’t they? You didn’t see anything wrong about them? Or—or did you?’ The last words were spoken in a whisper and she went on with hardly a pause: ‘You did, I can tell by your face.’

  Mannering said quietly: ‘It would be impossible to be sure, Lady Usk, without making a thorough test.’

  ‘But you thought they were fake! Didn’t you?’

  ‘I did wonder,’ said Mannering.

  He would not have been surprised had she turned hysterical. Instead she sank back on her pillows, but her wide, fear-stricken eyes did not leave his. She was afraid. For some seconds she lay there, breathing with apparent difficulty, then her voice came, sharper than before.

  ‘You won’t tell?’

  ‘It’s no business of mine to give an opinion,’ said Mannering. He was filled with curiosity, but even if he tried to find out whether she had deliberately bought the paste necklace, it was unlikely that she would give a truthful answer.

  There was something pitiful about her, in the collapse of her youth. She looked fifty, and in her dishevelment he could see the criss-cross lines at the corners of lips and eyes.

  ‘I—I knew you’d be all right,’ she muttered. ‘I don’t trust many people, Mr Mannering. Cecilie’s a good girl, but sometimes I think she dislikes me. I’m so afraid’—her clasp tightened—‘They—’

  She stopped, and her eyes narrowed cunningly. Mannering imagined that she wished she had not talked so freely. He ignored the ‘they’, and said reassuringly: ‘You’ve nothing to be frightened about, Lady Usk. It isn’t wise to carry so many jewels about with you, perhaps, but they can be well protected.’

  ‘I’m not frightened about them!’ Her lips twisted with contempt. ‘They’re all insured, I don’t have to worry. It’s—Mr Mannering, someone wants to kill me!’

  She flung the words out defiantly, as if expecting him to ridicule the suggestion, but in her eyes the fear lingered. Mannering felt that she believed what she said to be the truth. He looked into her face; but he saw instead Tommy Armitage’s, and he seemed to hear Armitage’s words: ‘If someone doesn’t murder that woman I think I’ll have a shot myself.’ It was the kind of absurdity likely to come from Armitage, of course, but in the light of Lady Usk’s assertion, it took on greater significance.

  There were times when Cecilie hated the woman. Her husband too, was on bad terms with her. Mannering, in fact, had met no one who liked her.

  ‘That’s a serious thing to suggest,’ he said soberly. ‘Are you quite sure it’s true?’

  ‘Of course I’m sure! Didn’t I get that threat—’

  She turned her eyes away from him, but he spoke sharply: ‘What threat, Lady Usk?’

  ‘It—it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘It matters a great deal,’ said Mannering. ‘If you think your life is in danger you must try to find out why. If you’ve had threats, you must find who has made them. Or do you know?’ he added quickly.

  ‘No, I don’t know!’ Her voice rose. ‘Mr Mannering, I can trust you, can’t I? You—you wouldn’t tell anyone else what I tell you, would you? Not even the police?’

  Mannering said easily: ‘It’s not wise to keep things from the police, Lady Usk, but I’ll treat anything you tell me in confidence. If I think the police should know I’ll advise you. It will be your responsibility if you don’t.’

  ‘That’s all right, then.’ Feverishly she slipped a hand into the neck of her dress, and drew out a small silk purse. Her fingers were trembling as she opened the clasp, took out a folded piece of paper, and pushed it into his hands. ‘There! That’s it! Ever since I had it I got Logan to look after me, but he can’t be here all the time, can he? See—you see what it says?’

  Mannering read a pencilled scrawl, difficult to decipher because the paper had been handled so much. There was no heading or signature:

  You’ve got a lot to answer for,

  my Lady! You won’t see another

  year in, that’s a fact. You

  can’t buy me off with your lousy

  money, neither.

  ‘You see what it says?’ repeated Lady Usk feverishly. ‘I got it a month ago, and I’m afraid to go anywhere on my own. I—I don’t know who wrote it!’ she whispered. ‘It’s no use asking me. No one would want to kill me, would they? I’ve done no one any harm, I can swear to that!’

  ‘I’m quite sure,’ said Mannering soothingly. ‘It’s probably someone jealous of your money and position, Lady Usk, someone you knew some time ago perhaps. But if it frightens you, why not tell the police? They’ll treat it as confidential.’

  She shook her head, ‘You don’t have to tell me anything about the police, I know them well enough. I haven’t told anyone,’ she went on, ‘but I can’t keep it to myself much longer. You won’t let me down?’

  ‘Of course not,’ said Mannering. ‘But how can I help you? Haven’t you any idea who sent it? Isn’t there any way of finding out who it was?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t know a thing!’ She was defiant again, and Mannering found himself growing irritated, even angry. He needed no telling that she knew far more than she admitted: it was even possible that she could name the writer of the message. But she was afraid not only of the threat but of the police. To Mannering that was far more important, for it controlled her actions and it demanded an answer which he would not be able to get easily. Why did she fear the police?

  There were other questions.

  Why had she decided to tell him? Had it been in her mind to show him the message when she had sent for him? Or had it come on the spur of the moment? Had she asked him to see the diamonds because she had wanted to find out whether he spotted the deception, or had it been simply vainglory? And – perhaps the most pertinent question – was her fear of the police due to the fact that the necklace was a fake?

  ‘I can’t tell you anymore.’ Her voice broke harshly across his thoughts, and her fingers released his wrist. ‘I could do with a drink – a stiff one.’

  ‘Of course,’ Mannering said. ‘I’ll ring for some whisky.’

  ‘No, don’t ring! I don’t
want a servant to see me like this. Send Cecilie.’

  Mannering stepped to the door, pulling it behind him. Cecilie was sitting on a settee some yards along the passage, too far away for her to have heard her stepmother’s words. She stood up as Mannering entered the passage, and hurried towards him.

  ‘She’ll be all right,’ he said reassuringly. ‘Slip along to the study, and get some whisky and soda, will you?’

  ‘Oh,’ said Cecilie with a touch of bitterness. ‘She’s all right, then, if she’s going to start drinking again. Yes, I’ll get it.’

  She walked off, leaving Mannering with a new thought. There had been a touch of contempt, too, in the girl’s manner, not surprising and yet, that evening, striking a false note.

  Mannering turned back into the room. The woman’s violet eyes were bright again, and a little feverish, but their expression was cunning. She patted the bed where he had been sitting, and spoke in a husky, confidential whisper.

  ‘Don’t take any notice of Cecilie, she doesn’t like me having a tot now and then. Mr Mannering, you won’t tell a soul what I’ve told you, will you?’

  ‘No,’ said Mannering, ‘but you’ll have the police and others asking questions about the robbery, you know. They’ll want to know when you last had the jewels, whether the door was left unlocked, and just what happened. When did you bring the jewels back? Weren’t you wearing them at dinner?’

  Her lips tightened.

  ‘Yes, I was! But no one else was wearing much, so I thought I’d better put them away. They hadn’t been in the safe an hour. I came up to get a handkerchief – and I saw the safe was open! I don’t know another thing!’

  ‘Why should you?’ asked Mannering. ‘Where do you keep the combination of the safe?’

  ‘In my purse.’

  ‘And you don’t let it out of your possession?’

  ‘Of course I don’t! I set it this morning, and I don’t trust anyone to know about it.’

  ‘I see,’ said Mannering. ‘So that no one could open the safe without getting at the combination in your purse. Have you left it about today?’