If Anything Happens to Hester Read online

  “Better tell me than the police,” he said.

  “The police don’t come into it,” Rodney declared, sharply.

  “They will if I call them in.”

  “What the devil do you mean?”

  “Rodney, you’re heading for trouble with everyone if you go on behaving like this,” Mannering said, deceptively mild. “Shake out of it. Hester’s wanted by the police. I’ve brought her here to find out what she had to say, and if it’s reasonable, I’ll try to help her. If it isn’t, I’ll tell the police where to find her.”

  “The mistake you made was in letting me know she was here, at all,” Rodney said, with a note of anger in his voice. “If Hester doesn’t want to talk, you’re not going to make her.”

  “Aren’t I?” asked Mannering, almost musingly. “Hester, you have exactly five minutes. In that time you’ll have told me what Morgan had against you, or I shall call the police. I’d be happier if you were in the police station, anyhow; you’d be safer.”

  Rodney snapped: “What do you mean, safer?”

  “She appears to have been cleverly framed for a vicious murder,” Mannering pointed out, his voice still low-pitched. “And a little later her brother was savagely attacked.” He saw the pain in the girl’s eyes at that reminder, but gave her no opportunity to dwell on it as he went on: “It’s obvious that the two things might be connected, and I don’t want Hester attacked. Hester – what did Morgan know that made him able to blackmail you?”

  “Can’t you see she’s tired out?” demanded Rodney hotly. “Can’t you at least have the decency to let her have a few hours’ rest? In the morning—”

  “One minute’s gone,” Mannering said.

  “Damn you, she doesn’t have to tell you or anyone!”

  “Either she tells me or the police will come for her, and they won’t take very long, there are some at the foot of the drive.” When neither of them answered, Mannering went on much more sharply: “I don’t know what the pair of you think you’re up to. I persuaded Mr. Vane to tell me all he knew. It was bad enough before when Hester was actually stealing from her own father in order to pay Morgan, but now—”

  Rodney exclaimed: “What?” He took a step forward, as if he would like to choke Mannering, then turned and looked at the girl he claimed to love. She was sitting bolt upright, and didn’t speak; no one could doubt that she was admitting the truth of what Mannering had said, and that she did not know how Rod would receive it.

  “You robbed your father,” Rodney breathed.

  Hester raised her head, hopelessly.

  “Rod, I—I had to get the money, I simply had to. Morgan—Morgan asked for more than you were able to give me. I had to get it from somewhere.”

  Rodney’s eyes seemed to burn in that pale face, and the aggressive thrust of his chin was more marked than before.

  “My God,” he said, as if aghast. “And you didn’t tell me.”

  “You had enough worries already.”

  “When are you going to learn that you come first, all the time, in my life?” Rodney strode towards her, gripped her shoulders, and made Mannering think that he was actually hurting the girl. “You’ve done far more than your share in trying to protect me and in trying to protect my father. You come first, understand, and the rest nowhere. How long has this been going on?”

  Hester said: “Nine weeks, altogether.”

  But there was a change in her. Fear had gone, or at least had faded. Tiredness had faded, too. Her eyes glowed with a new kind of radiance, and Mannering could not fail to see that as she looked up into the face of the younger man. They were silent for a moment, and then Rodney moved his hands, took Hester’s arms and drew her to her feet. The way in which he could forget Mannering’s presence was quite remarkable. Too remarkable?

  Mannering said: “So she was protecting you, and you let her do it?”

  Rodney swung round. “I don’t like that insinuation.”

  “Is it insinuation or fact?”

  “Rod, we’re going to need help to get out of this mess,” Hester said, “and Mr. Mannering’s done a great deal already. We ought—”

  “There’s just one thing you don’t know about John Mannering,” Rodney interrupted, and made the words almost sneer. “He’s a close friend of my father. I don’t know what he’s doing down here, but he’s snooping for some reason – probably snooping into my life.”

  “Rod—” the girl began, unhappily.

  Mannering said: “You ought to be careful with this young man, Hester. People who are fond of him get into serious trouble. His father—”

  “My father hates the sight of me!” Rodney burst out. “You know he does.”

  “I know that I could understand it if he did,” Mannering said, almost amiably. “Hester, did Morgan threaten to disclose your association with Rodney unless you paid him money?” He paused, to judge the reaction, and knew that he was only partly right, for Hester’s eyes flickered a message to Rodney. “Come on, is that it?”

  “Partly.”

  “Hester you don’t have to tell Mannering a thing!” Rodney almost shouted.

  “You could tell me yourself, couldn’t you?” Mannering said. “Isn’t it a fact that Morgan knew something else about you and threatened disclosure? You were so anxious to keep it quiet that you used Hester as a go-between. Morgan told you he wanted so much a week and actually squeezed more from her. How much did you pay him?”

  “It’s no business of—” Rodney began.

  Mannering said roughly: “Please yourself, but if you haven’t told me everything you can by the time I’ve reached that telephone, I shall call the police. I’m sick and tired of you throwing your weight about, getting other people into trouble, hiding your own nasty little secret.” He strode towards a telephone in a corner of the room, and the girl watched him, scared. It looked as if Rodney would fling himself forward, to stop Mannering.

  The girl cried: “Don’t! I—I paid Morgan forty pounds every week. Rodney gave me fifteen of it, that’s the amount Morgan had told him, and I knew Rodney was in difficulties over money. I—I tried to help him.”

  “Sure he deserved it?”

  “What makes you talk like that?” demanded the girl, and there was a kind of anguish in her eyes. “Why do you two dislike each other so much?”

  “I dislike any man who hides behind a girl.”

  “I didn’t know—” Rodney began.

  “You knew that Hester was seeing Morgan for you. You knew he was vicious and money-grabbing, but rather than be seen with him yourself, you let Hester meet him. How much of a hero does that make you?”

  “I wanted to help!” Hester cried. “It wasn’t Rodney’s fault, I suggested helping, I insisted on seeing Morgan. I didn’t think it would do me any harm.”

  “It’s put you on the run from a charge of murder,” Mannering said, acidly. “Rodney, let’s have the truth. What did Morgan have on you?”

  Rodney was standing absolutely still, very pale again, and his eyes glittering; but he was not the furious youth of a few minutes before. Something that the girl had said had affected him, probably he realised the full enormity of the risk he had allowed her to take.

  He said: “All right, Mannering, I’ll tell you. Hester—Hester doesn’t know everything. She simply knew that Morgan was able to blackmail me. But it’s time she knew more.”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Hester declared, and turned towards the door.

  “Don’t run away from this, too,” Mannering said sharply.

  Rodney said: “You don’t like us at all, Mannering, do you? You’ll like me even less when you’ve heard this. My father has a large number of old masters and precious objets d’art and valuable antiques at the Hall. He also keeps me on a chain. I am allowed a beggarly sum of money every month, I can’t do a thing I want to do, I can’t even marry the girl I love. All the family money is entailed. He behaves as if I’m a puppet on the end of a string. Like him? I hate the sight of him and al
l he stands for! And everything in this house—everything—will be mine if I outlive him, and there’s no reason why I shouldn’t. So I sold some of the objets d’art and replaced them with replicas. Morgan is a jewel-smith who made the replicas for me, and when he realised what I was doing, he began to blackmail me. That’s all there is to it.” Rodney squared his shoulders and stared defiantly at Mannering, but he was more conscious of the way the girl was looking at him. There was no doubt that he had hated making the admission, and did not want to summon the courage to look at her. It wasn’t possible to guess what was in her mind.

  “How long have you been doing this?” asked Mannering,

  “For a year or so.”

  “How long has Morgan been in it?”

  “Almost from the beginning. I met him when some pieces of jade were broken, and I took them to him for repair. He worked for an old man who died a year ago, leaving Morgan the business. The blackmail started about three months ago. He telephoned me first, and then came to see me. I couldn’t let him come here and I didn’t want to meet him outside, so—” now Rodney looked at Hester. “You ought to say it,” he growled. “I’m all kinds of a swine, and Mannering’s quite right, I ought to be horsewhipped. But if you knew how I hate—”

  “Don’t say you hate your father again, Rod,” Hester said, unexpectedly calm and quiet-voiced. “I knew you were in difficulties and wanted to help you. I’m glad I did. How—how serious is it, Mr. Mannering? Can we tell Lord Horton now, and clear the air?”

  “I think he’d have me sent to jail,” Rodney put in bitterly. “You ought to know, Mannering. You’re down here because he hired you to find out what was happening to the things that were missing, didn’t he? You’ve been surveying all the priceless junk in the hall, telling him which is real and which is false. And you know what he will do when he realises who’s behind it.”

  Mannering said: “He knows. He also knew you were being blackmailed. He thinks that Morgan worked for someone else – someone to whom he sold everything you took.” Mannering paused, seeing the astonishment in Rodney’s face, and then went on: “But that isn’t the important factor now.”

  “Then what is?” demanded Rodney.

  Mannering went to the girl’s side and rested a hand on her shoulder.

  “This is,” he said. “While Morgan was alive you were in acute danger of being found out, and that terrified you. You believed your father would cut your allowance right out, and might even make an example of you by having you charged with theft. You had as good a reason as any man could have to want Morgan dead.”

  Hester held her breath.

  “Did you kill him?” Mannering demanded.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Second Hiding Place

  Mannering was ready for any reaction, and would not have been surprised if, after the first shock of the question, Horton’s son completely lost his self-control. Rodney stood quite still for what seemed a long time. Mannering glanced at Hester, seeing the tension with which she watched the man for whom she had made such sacrifices. It was almost as if she was frightened in case Horton had killed the blackmailer; as if she believed that he had.

  Still Rodney stood quite motionless.

  “Rod—” Hester began, but broke off.

  Mannering didn’t speak.

  Rodney raised his right hand, very slowly, touched his chin, and began to rub with thumb and forefinger. His eyes glittered, but there was no hint of a physical storm.

  “No, Mannering, I didn’t,” he answered. He looked at Hester. “I would have killed Morgan soon enough if I’d had the chance and could have got away with it. Devils like that don’t deserve to live. But I would give my life to save Hester’s. I wouldn’t risk hers.”

  That sounded so simple that it seemed almost naive. Hester moved towards Rodney, and he put his right arm round her waist; but there was no passion in his voice or his embrace.

  “You took a long time answering,” Mannering said.

  Rodney made no comment.

  “Mr. Mannering, can’t you—” Hester began.

  Rodney said: “We’ve got to work this out, Hester. I took a long time answering because two things jolted me badly. I don’t know whether my father knew or not, but if he did and didn’t tell me, he must have some fiendish punishment in store. The other thing’s far more important. It didn’t occur to me that anyone might think I’d kill Morgan and let you take the blame. They don’t know how I feel about you. But I was down by the gates.”

  Hester exclaimed: “Rod, you needn’t tell—”

  “I wasn’t happy about the situation, and I watched out for Morgan,” Rodney went on, grimly. “I had two of the gardeners looking out for him, too, and one of them told me he was by the gates in his car. What was he doing – stepping up the pressure?”

  “He wanted twice as much money,” Hester said, and coloured slightly as she added: “Or payment in kind.”

  “I had a nasty feeling it was something like that,” Rodney said. “Well, I went down to see him on my motor-cycle. I heard his car turn off the road a hundred yards away and I thought that he was going to walk up to the house, so I went to look for him.”

  “Did you see him?” Mannering asked.

  Rodney answered slowly: “I saw him sitting in the car with Hester. I didn’t interrupt them. Then he and Hester had a row, and she went off. I was afraid she might be lost in the woods, and followed her.” He broke off, pressing his right hand against his forehead. “I’d better tell the whole truth now, Hester. I’m all kinds of a swine and the only point of view I really see is my own. Instead of going and breaking Morgan’s neck, I went after you to find out what he was asking for now. I was terrified in case I couldn’t keep him quiet. I knew that if I saw him he’d round on me, because of the way you’d talked to him.”

  “Did you two meet?” Mannering demanded.

  “Yes,” Rodney answered. “We talked for ten minutes, but Hester only told me about the higher price Morgan wanted. She persuaded me that I ought to get back to the Hall. I told myself she was right. I’m just beginning to see myself as other people see me, Mannering. The hell of it is, I can’t undo that now, but I can make sure that I don’t hide behind Hester or anyone else in the future. And there’s one way that will take the heat off.” He gave a fierce, unexpected grin. “Isn’t that the right phrase?”

  “How?” demanded Mannering.

  “I can say that I was down by the car, and that I’m just as much a suspect as she is.”

  “That won’t help,” Hester exclaimed.

  Mannering said: “It might help, but we want to time it properly. Did you see anyone else near the car?”

  “No.”

  “Did you?” Mannering asked the girl.

  “No.”

  “All right.” Mannering became more brisk. “Rodney, is it still fairly easy to reach the old Tower Room?”

  “Yes, I use it a lot.”

  “That’s the best place for Hester to hide for the time being,” Mannering said. “We can get her up there without anyone seeing, and you can take food up to her during the day and see that she has everything she needs. Is anyone else about, do you know?”

  “Shouldn’t think so,” Rodney said.

  “Go and make sure, will you?”

  “Right.” Rodney gave Hester a squeeze, and then went into the other room, and into the hall. The girl stood looking silently at Mannering.

  “I want you to stay in the Tower Room until I come and see you myself,” Mannering said. “Don’t leave it for any other reason. Don’t leave it even if Rodney tells you to: his judgement isn’t sound. It was once a kind of strong-room. The previous Lord Horton kept most of his valuables and pictures up there, but since another strongroom was built underground, it hasn’t been used much. It’s a kind of tower wing, above the observation balcony, and provided no one sees you, it’s the last place anyone will think of looking for you.”

  “I’ll stay there,” Hester decided, and asked ver
y quietly: “You don’t think Rodney killed Morgan, do you?”

  “I simply don’t know,” Mannering answered. “But I don’t think it’s likely.”

  Hester didn’t speak.

  “Before he comes back, there’s one other thing I want to ask,” Mannering said. “Did your brother Guy know about this blackmail?”

  Hester’s face answered him, before she said: “Good heavens, no!”

  “Could he have guessed about you and Rodney?”

  “I don’t think anyone could. We’ve always been—been so careful.”

  “Have you shared any confidence with him?”

  “I’ve told you, no. Why?”

  “I want to make sure that I know everything,” Mannering said, and then the door opened and Rodney called in a low-pitched voice: “All clear.”

  “Come on,” said Mannering.

  He knew the way up to the Tower Room almost as well as Rodney, for he had often visited this house at a time when the room had been used as a gallery for the pictures, the antiques and the objets d’art with which this great house was filled. He had been there several times a year, sometimes to admire, sometimes to value new pieces bought by the old Lord Horton.

  They walked round the gallery, looking down into the great hall, then through an arched doorway and up another flight of spiral steps. It struck very cold. They crossed another hallway, and stepped into a small lift, which looked like an ordinary doorway from the outside. It went up slowly, all three were pressed closely together in the small car. When it stopped, Rodney opened the doors and they stepped on to a small landing. Two windows were almost opposite it, and a doorway leading, as Mannering knew, to a balcony which commanded magnificent views over the countryside towards Gilston and the south-west. Through the windows, on either side of this door, the lights of Gilston showed. This was as far as anyone came, as a rule. Opposite the lift was a narrow doorway leading to another spiral staircase, even narrower than the first; and it ended a dozen steps up in a blank stone wall.

  Rodney inserted a key in a keyhole that Mannering could not see, then pressed against one of the great blocks of stone. There was a slight whirring sound, and the ‘wall’ blocking the stairway began to turn.