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  ‘If I’m worried,’ Mannering said, ‘it’s about Rosamund.’

  There was a long pause, and then, quite unexpectedly, Theo said, ‘That’s the hell of it.’ He glanced towards the door, as if he hoped that Lorna and Rosamund wouldn’t come in yet, and went on, ‘I’ve kept my eyes open, John, and I’ve been around. You know how people get hurt? They get hurt through other people. You torture a man, like the Nazis did, the Japs did, the Ruskis did – or do they still? Does pain make the man talk? Not if he’s tough. But you take the toughest man alive and work on his wife or a kid or someone he loves, and he cracks. Yes, sir, he cracks wide open. I guess that’s not an original remark, but I never was an egghead and I’m never likely to be. Deeds, not words, that’s my credo.

  ‘I didn’t intend to fall in love. For twenty years I told myself I was proof against it. I told myself I couldn’t get hurt, and no one who mattered to me would get hurt because of me. And then I saw Rosamund. Okay, okay, I’d been working on a theory, I was a machine making a lot of little cyphers run around, and then I found there was some blood in my veins after all. Don’t I know it. And don’t I know that someone could try to hurt me by hurting Rosamund. And that someone could try to rob me by using her. Those guys outside. I’ve seen them before. They started work on me five days ago. They said they wanted a hundred thousand pounds, that’s three hundred thousand bucks, or Rosamund would get hurt. I said if Rosamund got hurt, nothing would squeeze a dime out of me. Check. That’s how it is. And that gets me around to the second thing I wanted to see you about, John. You’re the best that come in private eyes. I don’t want protection for myself, but for her.’

  He glanced at the door again. Rosamund’s voice sounded, so the women were coming out of the bedroom. His grin flashed, and he gripped Mannering’s arm. ‘We’ll talk later! I just want ideas, to begin with. Nothing must happen to her.’

  It was strange to look at him, because it was strange to believe that he could be frightened. For the first time, he looked his age.

  As the others drew nearer, he watched the door. It opened wide, and Rosamund came in. She must have been aware that she looked unbelievably lovely: beauty born out of flame. The ring on her finger was the very heart of the fire. Mannering glanced at Theodorus.

  The man looked as if he could go down on his knees to worship his Rosamund.

  The doorman at the Signet Club stared at Rosamund and forgot to help Lorna out of the car. The cloakroom girl stood absolutely still, at sight of her. A waiter carrying a tray of coffee stopped as if someone had put on the brakes, and just looked. The head waiter, coming sedately forward to welcome the party, a man who knew Mannering and who treated him as one would treat a prince, simply raised his hands and then very slowly bent his white head. The bandleader, baton poised for a downbeat to the saxophones, held it there for three more beats, and so left the band to its own resources. The nearest saxophonist swayed. The floor was crowded, and at least six couples stopped dancing. Every waiter, every man, and every woman at the tables stopped whatever they were doing, just to look at Rosamund.

  Theo was aware of all this, and took it as Rosamund’s natural right. The world was hers and Theo Wray’s.

  The zenith came when they danced together. Everyone looked their way, and the Signet Club was hushed but for the soft music, and the rustle of Rosamund’s dress of flame, the slither of their feet on the polished floor.

  Scintillas of fiery red from the ring seemed to reach every corner of the room.

  It was when they were coming back to the table where Lorna and Mannering were sitting that Mannering noticed a man whom he had not seen before that evening, a man whose presence rang a clanging bell of warning. He had a shapely blonde with him, as colourless compared with Rosamund as a paste gem to a diamond. He was at a table which had not been occupied when Mannering’s party had come in; Mannering was quite sure that he would have noticed had the man been there before.

  Lorna said, ‘What is it, John?’ and turned to look in the same direction.

  Theo, his arm about Rosamund’s waist, came up, looking as if all his fears were forgotten and he was the happiest man alive.

  ‘Tell you later,’ Mannering whispered to Lorna as he stood up, and tried not to let the others see how badly he had been jolted.

  The man with the shapely blonde was Micky Odell, whom the police were very anxious to catch because he made a fortune out of fooling wealthy men.

  He always used a girl to ensnare an old fool.

  And Rosamund was ‘in his set’.

  Chapter Eight

  Theo Suggests

  ‘Sure, you can dance with her,’ Theo said readily, ‘but only once tonight; this is my night. Eh, Lorna?’ He stood up and watched as Mannering led Rosamund away for a dance which held a kind of magic. ‘Lorna,’ repeated Theo, looking down at her, ‘will you think it insulting if I ask if we sit this dance out?’

  She laughed. ‘Of course not.’

  ‘I can imagine that you could be a sensation any time you liked,’ Theo said, and clasped Lorna’s hand on the table. He squeezed. ‘You don’t have to tell me how you’ve kept in the background tonight, I sure do appreciate it. There’s something else you can do which I would appreciate even more.’ He let her hand go, picked up his glass, and looked over the top of it, into her eyes. Bubbles rose, swift and sparkling.

  ‘What is it now?’ asked Lorna.

  Theo looked rueful. ‘I guess I always ask for too much. Maybe I would have been better off if someone had taken my pants down when I was a kid and tanned the nonsense out of me. But I am what I am and there isn’t a thing we can do about it.’ His eyes were laughing at her, but she knew that his underlying purpose was serious. ‘It’s this way,’ he went on. ‘Rosamund lives in a dump of an apartment, and she lives alone. Oh, it’s all right, I guess, but it isn’t the kind of place I want my future wife to live in. Also, it’s a long way from my hotel, and I have to be central because I’m handling a lot of business while I’m here. I guess I could persuade her to move into the Panorama Hotel, but—’ He shrugged and put his head on one side. ‘You know how some folk are. If we stay at the same hotel, everyone will assume we’re living together, and I don’t go for premarital promiscuity. No, ma’am, not with the girl I’m going to marry!’ His irrepressible smile sparked up again, to his eyes and to his lips. ‘It so happens that Rosamund hasn’t any folk, none who matter, anyway. She’s lived on her own in London for years. There’s an aunt in Scotland and a sister in America, one of the GI brides, and that’s the end of it.

  ‘In the next three weeks she’ll need someone to talk to, someone who knows her way around. She’s going to have quite a job buying her trousseau, so she’ll need a lot of help. I guess that’s not one of the ways I can chip in! So I was wondering …’ Theo hesitated, sipped his champagne, tried to grin but couldn’t quite manage to make it spontaneous. So he clasped Lorna’s hand more tightly. ‘Do you have a spare room? Could she stay with you? That would be fine and handy to your studio, and maybe if you’ve time you could help—’ He broke off and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘Okay, okay, I’m crazy! There are people you can have your own way with and there are people who have a will of their own. You and John are in the second group. Forget it.’

  Lorna studied him contemplatively. The band was playing a foxtrot, and seemed far, far away. She saw the sharp, clear-cut, handsome features, the tanned, healthy skin, the fine, clear, pale blue eyes, the crisp, curly hair, the vitality, the strength, the personality which showed itself even when Theo Wray was sitting like this, quite still, now that he had lowered his arms.

  ‘Wouldn’t it be better if you told me what you really mean?’ she asked.

  ‘Come again?’

  ‘You really want to make sure that Rosamund isn’t alone, and you think John will be able to look after her better than anyone else.’

  Theo gave a little explosive sigh. ‘You and John make quite a team,’ he declared. ‘I’m glad I d
on’t have to do big business with you. I like winning. Sure, that’s a reason. It’s not the only reason, but it’s a big one.’ His smile was unbelievably frank and open. ‘Sure, you know I could fix it with some dowager, one of these society dames who used to prepare girls for presentation at court. I’ve been inquiring about it – but don’t tell Rosamund, she doesn’t know! She would say she didn’t want to go, but she would go after a while. This way, it would look more natural, and she could have protection without having any idea that she’s being protected.’

  ‘You wouldn’t make the mistake of thinking that Rosamund is a fool, would you?’ Lorna asked.

  Theo spread his hands. ‘She’s not a fool, but she’s got simplicity,’ he asserted. ‘She’s so honest that it wouldn’t occur to her that the world is not only full of wolves but of bad men too. That’s the thing which fascinated me. There’s another word—what is it?’ He waved his hands, and finished explosively, ‘Purity! Know what I mean?’

  ‘I know exactly what you mean,’ Lorna said.

  Just beyond Theo, still sitting down and facing their way, was Micky Odell. The blonde was drinking and looking about her, a pretty little thing with an upturned nose and shoulders so bare that, from the back, it looked as if she was wearing a topless dress. Odell was striking-looking, dark and pale, with fine eyes and well-marked eyebrows and lashes which gave the eyes an added brilliance. He had a strong mouth and chin too; he was not by any means handsome, but every woman would look at him twice.

  He was staring. It was almost impossible to imagine that he was smiling; or sneering. He glanced from them towards the floor, and Rosamund and Mannering were quite close now; obviously he was looking at the girl.

  ‘You seen someone you don’t like?’ Theo asked, quietly.

  ‘No one who matters.’ She went on, ‘Yes, I think I’d like that, Theo.’

  ‘You’d like what?’

  Lorna laughed at him with her eyes, and didn’t speak. Suddenly her meaning dawned on him, his face lit up, he jumped to his feet, rounded the table, gripped her hands, and hugged her; the table rocked when he banged against it; a little champagne spilled.

  ‘Gee, that’s wonderful! You don’t know how happy you’ve made me. Happy and relieved. I sure don’t want anybody to get at Rosamund. You mean it? Sure, sure, I take that back, you wouldn’t say anything you don’t mean! But will John agree?’

  ‘You must persuade him,’ Lorna said dryly.

  ‘Sure,’ said Theo, as if that were a trifle which hardly needed considering. ‘Gee, that’s wonderful! Listen, Lorna, we’ve got to fix it tonight. Strike while the iron’s hot. It will be half past two or three o’clock before we leave here, and Rosamund will be so tired she won’t mind where she sleeps so long as she can get her head down on the pillow. How about suggesting she stays with you for the night? You can find everything she needs. Then you can easily suggest that she stays with you tomorrow – if the suggestion comes from you she’ll think it’s wonderful. Can do?’

  Lorna laughed. ‘Can do.’

  ‘Wonderful! Now we’re going to dance; who wants to sit out? Can you tango?’

  ‘Yes, but this dance is nearly over.’

  ‘Phooey,’ scoffed Theo. ‘What’s the band there for, if it isn’t to please the customers?’ He drew her to her feet, and as the last beat of the foxtrot came, reached the bandleader, a tall, lissome, graceful man. ‘Can you go into a tango, quick? I’ve got my reasons,’ Theo asked. There was a rustle of paper, and a five-pound note appeared in the bandleader’s right hand. ‘Tango, right?’ repeated Theo. ‘Now, one, two, three …’

  ‘Oh, I’d love to stay just for the night,’ Rosamund said, and her eyes lit up, although already she was looking very tired. ‘My apartment will be so dull, after this.’

  Theo winked at Lorna.

  They weren’t likely to stay as late as half past two, Lorna thought. It was now after one. Rosamund sipped champagne, but had to stifle a yawn. The excitement had been heady, the champagne more heady still, and she would probably sleep the clock round. She seemed content to sit a dance out for the first time during the evening, and Theo was beating time with his foot and with a fork against a glass, for they had taken supper so that they could also take a drink.

  Mannering had seen the way Odell kept glancing towards the table, but Theo’s head and shoulders hid Odell from the girl, so there was no way of being sure that she had seen him.

  She tapped her mouth with the tips of her fingers, trying to stifle a yawn, and Theo looked as though he did not know the meaning of tiredness.

  ‘Care to dance, honey?’ he asked.

  ‘No, I’d rather not,’ Rosamund said. ‘I’d rather—’ She broke off, staring beyond Theo, staring at Micky Odell, who had risen to his feet and was now looking straight at her. He had that curious, sneery little smile at his lips. The blonde was getting up too, and if she noticed that her escort was not really interested in her, she did not appear to mind. She just stood, waiting.

  Theo turned round, as if worked by clockwork.

  He and Micky Odell stared at each other, and Mannering could see the almost derisive look on Odell’s face, although he could not see Theo’s. He did, a moment later. Odell took his partner on to the floor, and Theo turned back to the table, frowning, his eyes harder than they had been since Mannering had challenged him about the incident in the street.

  ‘That someone you know?’ Theo asked abruptly.

  ‘I’ve met him,’ Rosamund answered.

  Theo swung round on Lorna. ‘That the guy you were staring at, the guy you didn’t like?’

  Lorna didn’t answer, but glanced at Mannering.

  ‘Theo—’ Mannering began.

  ‘It’s the same guy,’ Theo said, and his voice was hard and clipped. ‘And he scared you, Rosamund. I can see when you’re scared. Who is he?’ When no one answered, he went on almost harshly, ‘Don’t hold out on me. Who is he? If he or anyone else harms Rosamund, I’ll kill him. The quicker he knows it the better.’ He began to get out of his chair.

  Chapter Nine

  Clash

  Mannering said sharply, ‘Sit down.’

  Theo continued to rise to his feet, staring at the tall figure of Micky Odell. The shape of the blonde seemed to have changed, and had taken on the contours of Odell’s figure, so closely did she press against him.

  ‘Sit down,’ Mannering said. ‘If you don’t, I’m through with you.’

  Theo, standing upright, turned to stare at Mannering. Rosamund looked as if she couldn’t be sure what was in his mind, and as if she was seeing something in him which she could never understand.

  But she had been scared when she had seen and recognised Micky Odell.

  Lorna was quite sure of that; and Theo had been sure.

  ‘Theo, sit down,’ Mannering said, more lightly, ‘and repress the primitive in you.’

  It would take more than words to do that; he felt quite sure that Theo was living on his nerves, and had been for a long time. If he got much worse, he would probably have a breakdown. His remarkable gift of concentration kept him going, but all the signs of a man subjected to severe nervous strain were there.

  Theo probably didn’t realise it, but what he needed were three months of complete rest.

  He was angry enough now to pick a quarrel with Micky Odell. Yet a logical explanation would calm him, provided it explained why Rosamund had looked so alarmed. Mannering knew of none, so he invented one, swiftly. ‘That’s an old boy friend of Rosamund’s. She was startled when she saw him here.’

  ‘Boy friend?’ Theo’s voice was clipped. ‘She didn’t tell me that she had any boy friend.’

  ‘Sit down and be your age,’ Mannering said sharply. ‘You may have lived like a eunuch for the whole of your life, but normal people do normal things. They eat, drink, laugh, dance. Boy meets girl, they have fun, they part company. Just get your mind out of those cyphers, and remember the flesh and the blood.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Theo,
and gave a little, almost sheepish, grin. ‘Sure, I just got mad.’ He sat down. ‘I got mad because I don’t want anyone to have anything to do with Rosamund, and if anyone harms her—’

  ‘We’ve heard you once,’ Mannering said. ‘You’re talking out of the back of your neck.’

  ‘Hey, John! You mind what you’re saying.’

  ‘I’m saying that if you’re not careful you’ll behave like a man from the outback, a man from the sticks, a primitive,’ Mannering said. ‘You’re living in a civilised world and a civilised society. You can’t always have your own way, and it’s time you stopped trying to.’

  Theo was going very white about the mouth, and there was a cold light in his eyes. ‘That’s plenty, from you or anyone else.’

  ‘I hope it is,’ said Mannering, and his voice was as cold as the expression in Theo’s eyes.

  The band was playing. Most of the people left were dancing. Waiters stood about idly, several of them very interested in the sudden change of mood at Mannering’s table. Rosamund clutched Lorna’s hand, as if she wanted more than moral support. Her lips moved, and Lorna just caught the words, ‘Don’t let them quarrel.’