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"You Can't Keep the Change," W.M. Collins Sons & Co. Ltd., London, Reprint, 1952
"You Can't Keep the Change," Dodd, Mead & Company, New York, 1944
Credit and thanks for making this book available for publication at RGL go to Paul Moulder, who donated the scanned images of his print copy of "You Can't Keep the Change" used to produce this e-book.
THE Chinese clock on the mantelpiece struckseven.
A beam of May sunshine, following a sharp shower, pushed itsway through the crack between the heavy velvet curtains, slantedobliquely across the big settee, stayed for a moment in the long,expensively furnished bedroom then, apparently disheartened,disappeared, giving place to a fresh shower.
The door between the sitting-room and the bedroom openedslowly. Effie Thompson's red head appeared, followed by the restof her. She stood in the doorway, one hand on hip, her green eyesnarrowed, scanning the disordered room, noting the trail oftrousers, coat, waistcoat, shirt and what-will-you that laybetween the doorway and the settee.
She sighed. She walked quietly about the room, picking up theclothes, folding them, laying them on a chair.
On the settee, Callaghan lay stretched out at full length. Hewas wearing a sea-green silk undervest and shorts. One footsported a blue silk sock and a well-polished shoe; the othermerely a suspender which hung precariously from the big toe.
His hands were folded across his belly. He slept deeply andpeacefully. His broad shoulders, which almost covered the widthof the settee, descended to a thin waist and narrow hips. Hisface was thin and the high cheekbones made it appear longer. Hisblack hair was tousled and unruly.
On the floor beside the settee was a big, half-empty bottle ofeau-de-Cologne with the stopper beside it.
Effie Thompson replaced the stopper and stood looking down atCallaghan's face. She looked at his mouth. She wondered why thedevil she should be so intrigued with that mouth.
Callaghan grunted.
She went out of the room closing the door behind her gently.She walked across the sitting-room out into the corridor. Shewent into the electric lift and down to the offices two floorsbelow.
As she walked along the passage that led to the main door ofthe offices she found herself wondering why Callaghan had been ona jag. She expected it was a woman. Whenever somethingstarted—or ended—with Callaghan there was a jag. Shewondered whether this was the start of something or the ending ofsomething... or somebody...
She said a very wicked word under her breath.
Nikolls was sitting in Callaghan's room, with his chair tippedback on its hind legs. He was smoking a Lucky Strike and blowingsmoke rings. Nikolls was broad in the shoulder and inclined torun to a little fat in the region of the waist-belt. His face wasround and good-humored; his eyes intelligent, penetrating.
As Effie Thompson passed him on the way to Callaghan's desk hebegan to sing "You Got Snake's Hips." Simultaneously, and withamazing speed, he switched his chair round and aimed a playfulsmack at the most obvious portion of her anatomy. She side-stepped expertly—just in time. She said:
"Listen, you damned Canadian. I've told you to keep your handsto yourself. One of these days I'm going to kick you on theshins."
Nikolls sighed.
"Look, honey," he said plaintively. "Be human. Why can't a mantake a smack at you now an' again. It's natural—ain'tit?"
She sat down behind the desk. She began to tidy the litter ofpapers.
"Why is it natural?" she asked.
Her green eyes were angry.
Nikolls fished about in his coat pocket and produced a freshcigarette. He lit it from the stub of the old one. Then, with thecigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth, he heaved asigh which, intended to be tragic, sounded like a whale coming upfor air.
"Every guy has got a weakness, honey," he said. "Ain't youever learned that? Every normal guy, I mean. O.K. Well, myweakness is hips. I go for hips. I always have gone for 'em an' Ialways will. In a big way I mean."
He shifted the cigarette to the other corner of his mouth.
"Some fellas think ankles are the thing," Nikolls continued,almost dreamily, "other fellas go for face, an' fancy hairstyles,or poise, or a nice line in talks but with me it's hips, an' I'mgonna stand up an' tell the whole cock-eyed world that when itcomes to hips you got every dame I ever met lookin' likesomethin' you find under a rock when the tide goes out. An' I'mgonna tell you somethin'. Just before I die I'm gonna take onebig smack at you an' then I'll pass out happy."
She pushed a tendril of red hair back into place.
She said: "Nikolls... I've never heard any one talk such rotas you do. You..."
He grinned at her.
"Oh, yeah?" he said. "Looky... maybe you wouldn't mind ifsomebody did take a smack at you, so long as it was the rightguy... Now, if it was Slim... ?"
She reddened, flashed an angry look at him.
He blew a smoke ring.
"Say, how is the big boy?" he asked. "Is he consciousyet?"
"He's snoring his head off," said Effie. "Clothes all over thebedroom. He must have had a head last night. He's used half abottle ofeau-de-Cologne."
Nikolls nodded.
"That one certainly did drink some liquor last night," hesaid. "Plenty. An' he was as happy as a sandlark..."
She shut a drawer with a bang.
"The advent of a new lady friend or the end of an old one,"she said.
She looked at Nikolls. He grinned back at hermischievously.
"You're sorta curious, ain't you, honey?" he said. "Well, Idon't know a thing... Slim never talks about dolls to me. He's avery close guy. Mind you, I've seen him around with one or twovery sweet numbers. But still that wouldn't interestyou,would it, honey?"
She flushed.
"It certainly wouldnot," she said.
One of the telephones on Callaghan's desk jangled. She tookoff the receiver.
"Yes... This is Callaghan Investigations. I'm sorry, Mr.Layne, I've been trying to get Mr. Callaghan to call you all day.No... he's in conference at this very moment. I can't disturbhim. I'm very sorry, but he's just concluding a most importantcase. Will you speak to his first assistant, Mr. Nikolls... Thankyou, Mr. Layne... hold on, please..."
She passed the receiver on its long cord to Nikolls. Heshifted his cigarette to the other side of his mouth and tiltedhis chair back to a perilous angle.
"Is this Mr. Layne... ? This is Windemere Nikolls. What can wedo for you, Mr. Layne?... I see... yeah... I'm ahead of you...well what's the stuff worth?... One hundred thousand... You don'tsay... Say, Mr. Layne, if you'll let me have your number I'll getMr. Callaghan to call you right back directly he comes out ofthat conference he's at right now. I'll do that... 'Bye..."
He threw the receiver back to Effie Thompson who caught itneatly and replaced it. He got up.
"It looks like some big business is startin' around here,sister," he said. "You tinkle through to Slim an' wake him up. Igotta talk to him."
The telephone jangled again. She picked up the receiver.Nikolls heard Callaghan's voice, brusque and rather acid, comingthrough from the flat above.
Effie said: "I'm glad you're awake. I came up and looked atyou, but I thought it was more than my life would be worth todisturb you."
Nikolls got up and took the receiver from her hand.
"Hallo, Slim," he said. "Say... what she really meant was thatshe just had to come up an' look at them green silk underpants ofyours. Yeah... it makes her feel good... but don't tell her Isaid so. Look... do you want to listen to business?... OK. I'mcoming up... All right."
He hung up.
"He says you're to telephone down to the service to send himup a big pot of tea... very hot an' very strong... an' then youcan go home, sister... maybe one night when I ain't busy you an'me could go to a movie..."
"Like hell," said Effie. "D'you think I'd trust myself in thedark with you?"
Nikolls grinned.
"Why not, honey?" he said. "I'm swell in the dark an' I'm justas dangerous in the daylight anyhow. I remember once some dame inMinnesota..."
The telephone jangled again. She said as she reached forit:
"I'd get upstairs if I were you. That's him and he's in a verybad temper if I know anything about Mr. Callaghan."
"Maybe you're right," said Nikolls.
He went to the door.
Effie said into the telephone in a very smooth, coolvoice:
"Yes, Mr. Callaghan... Yes... he's just left the office...he's on his way up... and I'm ringing through to service for thetea. And is there anything else?...Very well... Good-night...."
CALLAGHAN came out of the bathroom and stood in front of themirror carefully tying a black watered-silk bow. When this wasdone he put on a double-breasted dinner jacket and went over tothe corner cupboard. He produced a bottle of whisky, a watercarafe and two glasses.
He poured out the whisky. He drank four fingers neat andswallowed a little water afterwards. Nikolls came across andhelped himself.
Callaghan said: "What's the story, Windy?"
He lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply and began to cough.
Nikolls said: "It's some lawyer guy named Layne. They've beentryin' to get you all afternoon. The firm's Layne, Norcot,Fellins, Treap and Layne. They're good lawyers—act for alot of swells. This Layne is the head man. The case is a steal...somebody's pinched about a hundred thousand pounds worth offirst-class ice from some guy in Devonshire. They've had thepolice on it but they don't seem satisfied. I don't know any moredetails. They want you to go in on it. Layne wants to see you. Isaid you'd ring back. He's waiting at his office. It's in GreenStreet just off the Park."
Callaghan looked at his watch. It was eight o'clock.
"Ring through and say I'm coming round now," he said. "I'll bewith him in ten minutes. And you stay around downstairs in case Iwant you."
Nikolls nodded. As he got up the house telephone rang. Heanswered it. Callaghan was looking out of the window.
Nikolls put his hand over the transmitter.
"It's a dame," he said. "Her name's Vendayne—MissVendayne. She says that she believes the Layne firm have beentrying to get into touch with you. She says she wants to see youurgently. What do I say?"
Callaghan grinned.
"Funny business," he said. "Make an appointment for tonightsomewhere. Anywhere she likes—if it's in London."
Nikolls talked into the telephone. After he had hung up hesaid:
"It's O.K. She says for you to meet her at Ventura's Club,near Shepherd's Market, at ten o'clock."
Callaghan lit a fresh cigarette.
"What did she sound like?" he asked.
Nikolls grinned. He waved his big hands dreamily.
"She had one of those voices, Slim," he said. "You know...music an' promises of rewards an' all that Omar Khayyámstuff..."
"You don't say," said Callaghan. "Windy, you're gettingpoetic."
"Yeah..." said Nikolls. "I'm like that sometimes... but Isorta spoil myself. I'm always poetic at the wrong times. Justwhen I oughta be spoutin' poetry I find myself tryin' to take asmack at some dame an' I get all washed up."
He got up.
"I'll wait downstairs in the office," he said. "Maybe you'llcome through later?"
Callaghan nodded. He put on a black soft hat and went out. Asthe bedroom door closed behind him, Nikolls reached for thewhisky bottle.
Callaghan reopened the door.
"Help yourself to a drink, Windy," he said.
He grinned.
Nikolls cursed softly to himself.
"Why in hell didn't I wait?" he muttered.
MR. LAYNE, of Layne, Norcot, Fellins, Treap and Layne was verythin, very dignified. He looked extremely ascetic and ratheruncomfortable.
Callaghan, seated in the big chair on the other side of thelawyer's desk, lit a cigarette with an engine-turned goldlighter.
Layne said: "I am afraid it's rather an extraordinary case,Mr. Callaghan."
Callaghan grinned.
"I gathered that," he said. "When somebody steals £100,000worth of jewellery it is a job for the police, not a privatedetective." He looked at the lawyer. "That's obvious, isn't it?"he asked.
Layne nodded. He put the tips of his fingers together andlooked over them at Callaghan. He said:
"Mr. Callaghan, I think I'd better give you the whole storyfrom the beginning. I should like to point out to you that it wasnot my idea to employ a private detective in this case. During mylegal experience I have always found the services of the policeadequate."
Callaghan said: "You don't say..."
He flipped the ash from his cigarette.
"In a nutshell," said Mr. Layne precisely, "the position isthis: My client is Major Eustace Vendayne. You may have heard ofthe Vendaynes—a very old Devon family—very ancientindeed. Major Vendayne lives at Margraud Manor, a delightfulestate near Gara in South Devon.
"He is—or was," the lawyer went on, "the life owner ofsome extremely valuable antique jewellery, which came intopossession of the family in rather unique circumstances. One ofthe Vendaynes sank a great deal of Spanish shipping at the timeof Queen Elizabeth, and he was allowed to retain a percentage ofthe captured booty. He left directions as to its disposal afterhis death in his will.
"He directed that the head of the Vendayne family should beowner and trustee of the jewellery in his lifetime. He was tokeep it intact in safe custody and allow it to be worn on theproper occasions by women members of the family. If he attemptedto sell it, it was to pass immediately to the next male in lineto whom it would go, in any event, after his death.
"Should any member of the family have no male heir by the timehe was twenty-five years of age, and if there were no other malemember of the family existing, then the holder was entitled todispose of the jewellery as he saw fit. You understand?"
Callaghan nodded.
"The present owner and trustee of the jewellery is my client,"said Layne. "After his death it goes to his nephew LancelotVendayne, who, being over twenty-five years of age, beingunmarried and having no heir, is entitled to dispose of it whenit comes to him after my client's death—should he wish todo so.
"Some eleven weeks ago," the lawyer went on, "thieves brokeinto the Manor House, opened the safe and removed the jewellery.They were either very lucky or they had some means of knowingthat on that particular night the jewellery would be in thehouse, because only the day before it had been brought over fromthe bank vault at Newton Abbott—where it was usuallykept—for the purpose of a private exhibition which was tobe held at the Manor.
"When the theft was discovered Major Vendayne informed thelocal police at once. The matter was taken up by the CountyPolice and after a week's delay the services of Scotland Yardwere requested. It seems that up to the moment the authoritieshave discovered nothing.
"The jewellery," Layne continued, "was insured for £100,000,which, believe me, does not represent its true value. MajorVendayne, of course, made a claim on the Insurance Company, butfor some reason or other—and I must say I fail tounderstand this—the Company do not seem inclined to meetthe claim promptly. They have during the past three or four weeksmade all sorts of vague excuses, and, quite candidly, at themoment I have no information as to when they propose to settlethe claim.
"This," the lawyer went on, "is where Mr. Lancelot Vendaynecomes into the story. As the next owner of the jewellery, and theone to whom it would actually belong in its entirety with powerfor him to do as he liked with it, he is, naturally, mostperturbed about the situation. After all he was entitled toregard it almost as being his own property. My client is fifty-five years of age and has a weakness of the heart. He is not expected to live a great deal longer.
"To cut a long story short," said the lawyer, "Mr. LancelotVendayne has become more and more perturbed about the attitude ofthe Insurance Company. It had been arranged between him and MajorVendayne—and I think the young man's attitude was mostgenerous—that when the claim was settled he should receive£75,000 and my client would be entitled to keep the remainingbalance of £25,000.
"Two weeks ago Lancelot Vendayne went down to the Manor Houseand saw my client. He suggested to him that as the police seem tobe doing very little in this matter it was time that outside helpwas brought in. Apparently," said Mr. Layne, looking at Callaghanover the top of his pince-nez, "Lancelot has heard about you.Your reputation," he continued with an icy smile, "has evidentlypreceded you. He insisted that my client should retain yourservices and that you should endeavour to find out if possible,first of all, what happened to the jewellery, and secondly whythe Insurance Company are taking up the attitude which they haveadopted."
Callaghan said: "I can answer the second part of that questionnow. I've done a lot of work for Insurance Companies. I knowtheir methods. They just don't like the claim. They're stallingfor time."
The solicitor said: "So I gathered. But Lancelot Vendayne—and for that matter my client—would like to knowwhy."
The lawyer got up. He crossed over to the fireplace and stood,his hands behind his back, looking at Callaghan.
"Would you like to take up this case, Mr. Callaghan?" hesaid.
"Why not?" Callaghan answered. "It sounds an interesting case.I like the idea. I shall want a retainer of £250. If I get thatjewellery back I'll put in a bill. It'll be a big bill. If Idon't get it back, I'll put in a bill not quite so big."
The lawyer nodded.
"That is agreeable," he said. "I'll have the cheque sent toyou to-morrow. I expect you'll want to go down to Margraud. Ibelieve there is an excellent train service. Will you go to-morrow?"
"Maybe," said Callaghan, "and I never use trains anyway."
He lit another cigarette.
"Mr. Layne," he said, "supposing you tell me something aboutthe Vendayne family, or isn't there a family?"
The lawyer nodded. A little smile appeared at the corner ofhis mouth. Callaghan thought it was a cynical smile.
"Oh, yes, Mr. Callaghan," he said, "there is a family. I willdescribe it to you. There is my client—MajorVendayne—who as I have told you is fifty-five years of age,with a not very good heart. Then there is his eldest daughter, amost charming young lady—Miss Audrey Vendayne. She is Ithink thirty years of age. There are two otherdaughters—Clarissa aged twenty-eight and Esme aged twenty-five. They are all extremely attractive. Clarissa andEsme," the lawyer went on, "are thoroughly modern young women. Infact, I suppose that people of my generation might possiblyconsider them a trifle wild. They have what I believe is called,in these days, temperament as well as looks."
Callaghan said: "I see. They're all good-lookin' andattractive. But Clarissa and Esme are a trifle wild and they'vegot temperaments. Audrey is good-looking, but she hasn't got atemperament and she's not wild. What hasshe got?"
Layne said very coldly: "Miss Vendayne is a most charming,agreeable and delightful young woman. She is unlike her sistersmerely in the fact that she is not at all wild and has notemperament to speak of."
"I see," said Callaghan. "I'm sorry I interrupted."
He grinned amiably at the lawyer.
"These three ladies and my client live at the Manor House,"continued the lawyer. "The only other member of the familyliving, as I have already said, is Mr. Lancelot Vendayne. He doesnot live in Devonshire. He lives in town."
Callaghan nodded.
"Do you know his address?" he asked.
"He lives at the Grant Hotel, in Clarges Street," replied thelawyer. "He is an interesting young man and has made, I believe,considerable money on the Stock Exchange. He is a lucky gamblerthey tell me. He plays golf and has a fondness for night clubs.He is quite a nice sort of person. In the evening he is usuallyfound at the Ventura Club, where he drinks a great deal and plansfresh raids on the stock market. As I told you, he is responsiblefor your being called in on this unfortunate business."
Callaghan got up. He stubbed out his cigarette.
He said: "Thanks for the information. I'll probably go down toDevonshire some time. Maybe to-morrow. You might let MajorVendayne know I'm coming. I'll telephone the Manor when I'm on myway. I'd like to stay there. I shall take an assistant withme."
"Very well, Mr. Callaghan," said the lawyer. "I'll inform myclient. He'll expect you. I wish you good luck."
Callaghan said: "Thanks."
He picked up his hat and went out.
IT was nine-thirty when Callaghan finished his dinner. He cameout of the Premier Lounge and turned down Albemarle Street. Hewalked into Bond Street, through Bruton Street, through BerkeleySquare into the region of Shepherd's Market. He turned into thelong mews that bisects one corner of the Market and turned intothe passage on the left. At the end of the passage the entranceof The Ventura Club formed acul de sac. Over the door wasa green "blackout" shaded light. On each side of it a miniaturetree in a tub.
Callaghan paused before the entrance and produced hiscigarette-case. He was lighting the cigarette when the woman cameout of the shadow beside one of the tree tubs.
She said: "Mr. Callaghan?"
He looked at her. She was tall and slim and supple. Callaghanhad a vague impression that she was very well dressed and thatshe emanated a subtle and discreet perfume. There was a peculiarquality in her voice that was, he thought, extraordinarilyattractive.
He said: "Miss Vendayne, I imagine? Somehow I thought I'd findyou inside..."
She shrugged her shoulders.
"I didn't know where to make an appointment to meet you," shesaid. "I discovered that your office was off Berkeley Square. Ithought this would be as good a place as anywhere."
Callaghan said: "Why not?"
There was a pause. He stood, inhaling his cigarette smoke,looking at her. After a moment she said:
"Can we go somewhere? I want to talk to you."
Callaghan grinned in the darkness.
"I rather imagined you did," he said.
He turned and began to walk down the passage into the mews. Hecould hear her high heels tapping just behind him.
In Charles Street, they found a wandering taxi-cab.
Callaghan said: "There's a not-too-bad club I know near here.Would you like to go there?"
He stopped the cab. In the darkness he could almost feel hershrugging her shoulders.
They drove to the club in Conduit Street. On the way he amusedhimself trying to identify the perfume she was wearing. After awhile he gave it up.
When the cab stopped, Callaghan helped her out. She drew herarm away quickly as her foot reached the pavement. He paid offthe driver. As he turned away from the moving cab the moon cameout and he saw her. He had a sudden picture of a white face,half-hidden by a short veil, framed with dark hair, of two largedark eyes, a straight and attractive nose with sensitive nostrilsand a superbly chiselled mouth. Callaghan, who liked looking atwomen's mouths, thought that hers was quite delightful. Heremembered Nikoll's wisecrack about her voice... "music an'promises of rewards an' all that Omar Khayyám stuff...." Hewondered if Nikolls was right.
His eyes wandered quickly over her. She wore a coat and skirtthat fitted as a suitshould fit. She had style, Callaghanthought. He wondered about Clarissa and Esme...
The cab disappeared. They stood for a moment looking at eachother. Then Callaghan said:
"I wouldn't do anything you didn't want to do. You don't seemawfully sure of yourself. You look to me as if you'd rather besomewhere else."
She smiled. It was a small smile. Then she saidarrogantly:
"I would. I'm not used to having heart-to-heart talks withprivate detectives whom I don't know. But as I'm here I'd bettergo through with it."
He grinned at her.
"Too bad," he said. "It must be awful for you. Come inside.Maybe you'll feel better after a drink."
They went up the stairs to the first floor. The club was aone-room affair—a big room with a bar at one end. It wasempty except for the bar-tender. Callaghan led the way to a tableand, when she was seated, went to the bar and orderedfinemaison and black coffee. When he got back to the table shesaid:
"I suppose the best thing I can do is to say what I've got tosay and be done with it."
Callaghan smiled at her. She noticed his white even teeth.
"That's always a good idea," he said. "Only the devil of it isthat when we've said what we've got to say, very often we'renot done with it."
She smiled. It was a very cold smile.
"You're fearfully, clever, aren't you, Mr. Callaghan?" shesaid. "I've heard that about you. I suppose I ought to be ratherfrightened or something..."
Callaghan said: "I wouldn't know."
He sat down.
The bar-tender brought the brandy and coffee. He offered her acigarette and, when she refused, lit one for himself. He drew thesmoke down into his lungs, exhaled it slowly through one nostril.He said:
"Well... ?"
He was grinning amiably.
She looked towards the window. Then she said: "Iwouldlike a cigarette, please."
He gave her one and lit it. As he held up the lighter hethought that Miss Audrey Vendayne had something—as Nikollswould say—even if she was finding it a little difficult tobring matters to a head.
She smoked silently for a moment. Then she said veryquickly:
"Mr. Callaghan, I don't want you to handle this case for myfather. I don't think it's necessary."
"I see," said Callaghan. "I suppose you've got a good reasonfor wanting menot to handle it?"
"The very best of reasons," she answered. Her eyes were cold."The matter has been put into the hands of the police," she wenton. "I think the police are very efficient. I do not see why theservices of a private detective are necessary."
Callaghan said nothing. There was a pause. He began to sip hiscoffee.
"Of course," she went on, "if you go out of the case now... ifyou give it up—although you haven't even started it—Ithink you ought to have some sort of compensation."
Callaghan shook the ash off his cigarette. Then he looked atthe glowing end for quite a while. One corner of his mouth wascurled up in an odd sort of smile. He could sense her feeling ofimpatience.
He said: "I think that's very nice of you. Very sporting. Thedevil of it is I've already seen Mr. Layne—your father'slawyer. I've practically accepted the case."
He looked at her. She was looking towards the window.Callaghan thought that even if, as Layne had said, AudreyVendayne was not wild and had not a lot of temperament she stillhad plenty ofsomething. Anyway, Callaghan had littleopinion of the abilities of lawyers to sum up character.
Her glance returned to him. She said casually:
"Possibly. But I don't see any reason why you can't be boughtoff the case. Can you?"
Callaghan looked at her for a moment. Then he began to grinwickedly.
"Of course, Miss Vendayne, I'm always open to be 'bought off'a case. What compensation would you suggest? And I thinkcompensation is a hell of a word. I like it. Having regard to thefact that there's nothing to compensate me for, I think it'sgood."
She flushed. She said quietly:
"You're making fun of me?"
"I never make fun of a woman who is as serious as you are,"Callaghan answered. "I was merely curious about thecompensation."
She nodded. She looked down at the table and made as if topick up the little glass of brandy. She did not. Then she lookedat him and said:
"I don't think my father should be worried any more about thisbusiness of the jewellery being stolen. He's been terriblyharassed about it. And he's not well. He should be left alone. Itdoesn't matter sufficiently."
"No?" queried Callaghan. "I should have thought that a hundredthousand pounds worth of jewels would have mattered to anyone."
"That is a matter of opinion," she said. "I don't thinkit matters."
Callaghan nodded.
"Excellent," he said. His voice held a definite tinge ofinsolence. "Soyou don't think it matters. And where do wego from there?"
Her eyes blazed.
"I wonder has any one told you that you can be fearfullyimpertinent, Mr. Callaghan?" she said.
He grinned.
"Lots of people have, Miss Vendayne," he answered. "And Isuppose I should be considered even more impertinent if Isaid—so what!" He blew a smoke ring and watched itrise in the air. "If you've got a proposition I'm listening," hewent on. "I suppose we didn't come here to discuss my ability tobe impertinent."
She shrugged her shoulders.
"You're perfectly right," she said. "Very well then, briefly,my proposition is this. I am willing to pay you two hundredpounds immediately if you decidenot to take thecase."
Callaghan said softly: "Mr. Layne offered me two hundred andfifty to handle it. Your offer would have to be over his."
She said: "I'll give you three hundred."
"Done," said Callaghan.
She looked at him for a moment. Then she began to open herhandbag. She stopped suddenly and said:
"How do I know I can trust you?"
"You don't," said Callaghan.
He lit another cigarette.
She said something under her breath. It sounded like "pig"...Then she opened the bag and took out a packet of banknotes. Sheextracted six fifty pound notes from the pile and pushed themtowards Callaghan. He put them in his waistcoat pocket.
She got up.
"Good-night, Mr. Callaghan," she said.
Callaghan stood up.
"Thanks for the money," he said. "But aren't you going todrink your brandy, Miss Vendayne? Or don't you drink with strangemen?"
He stood looking at her.
"Good-night, Mr. Callaghan," she repeated.
She walked to the door and went out. He could hear her highheels tapping down the stairs.
Callaghan sighed. He sat for a moment, looking at her undrunkglass offine maison and the now cold cup of black coffee.He walked over to the bar and ordered a brandy and soda. He drankit, put on his hat and went out.
IT was eleven o'clock when Callaghan came into the office.Nikolls was seated at the desk in the outer room playingpatience.
Callaghan said: "Windy, you can get around and do a littlefast work. Go round to the garage and hire a car. Go home, get afew hours' sleep, pack your bags and get down to Devonshire. Stayat an hotel near—but not too near—Margraud Manor,near Gara Rock. You should be there early to-morrow morning."
Nikolls said: "That suits me. I could do with some seaair."
Callaghan went on: "Collect all the local rumours about theVendayne family. There are three daughters—Audrey, Clarissaand Esme. Clarissa and Esme are supposed to be a little wild.Check on them. Find out if they've got any boy friends locally,how they spend their time and all the rest of it.Understand?"
Nikolls said: "I've got it. Did you see the Vendaynedame?"
"I saw her," Callaghan replied. "The eldest one. She paid methree hundred pounds to throw the case."
"Marvellous," said Nikolls. "Here's once we get paid fornot doing something."
CALLAGHAN went into his office. He sat down at the desk.Nikolls ambled in and stood looking at him.
"You'll meet me the day after to-morrow," said Callaghan."You'd better wait for me around six o'clock at the Clock Towerin Newton Abbott. Have your bags with you. I'll pick you up. Havethat information about the Vendayne family by then and don't letany of the local wise-guys get on to you. Understand?"
"I got it," said Nikolls. "I'm practically there."
He went to the door. When arrived he turned and said:
"Am I dreamin' or does this case stink?"
"I don't know," said Callaghan, "but I don't think you'redreaming."
Nikolls fished about in his coat pocket for a Lucky Strike. Hesaid pleasantly:
"I think it's a nice case. The eldest Vendayne dollhands you three hundred to walk out on it an' you're not walkin'out. She can't say anything because quite obviously she don'twant anybody to know she's paid you to throw it. Nice work. Youmake both ways."
Callaghan said very softly: "I don't remember asking youropinion, Windy."
Nikolls flushed.
"Sorry," he said. "Me... I always talk too much."
"Don't worry about that," said Callaghan. "I can always stopthat if I want to by knocking a few of your teeth down yourthroat. By the way, you'd better pack a tuxedo. And when we getto Margraud go easy on those Canadian tales. Sometimes peoplelike the Vendaynes don't appreciate 'em."
Nikolls said: "I'll be so Fifth Avenue it's gonna hurt. Solong, Slim..."
He went out.
Callaghan leaned back in his swivel chair and put his feet onthe desk. He lit a cigarette and smoked it slowly. Then he tookhis feet off the desk, reached for the desk pad and wrote a noteto Effie Thompson. It said:
Effie,
Directly you get here telephone Gringall at theYard. Tell him I'd like to see him. Afternoon if possible. Tellhim that I've been retained in the Vendayne jewellery steal.
S.C.
He put the note in the right-hand drawer of her desk in theouter office.
Then he put on his hat and went out.
He walked across Berkeley Square towards the Ventura Club.
MEET Mr. Ventura.
If you have ever seen a picture—taken in hisprime—of Mr. Al Capone and you care to imagine the face alittle fuller, a little more smiling, then you will have anadequate idea of Mr. Ventura; who, as he would be the first toadmit, was invariably one jump ahead of the market and by the useof much foresight managed to stay in that enviable position.
At an early age Mr. Gabriel Ventura—Gabby to hisfriends—had discovered the efficacy of being all things toall men—and a few women. It was perhaps for this reasonthat all sorts and conditions of ladies and gentlemen found theirway into the expensively furnished, well-appointed VenturaClub.
You could get anything you liked there if you knew how to askfor it.
On the other hand if you were up from the country and merelydropped in for a drink and to look at pretty women, no one wouldeven try to take you for your pocket book.
If there had been odd rumours about the Ventura Club, and if,on occasion, Scotland Yard had taken more than a passing interestin what went on within its elegant portals, that was no affair ofGabby's. He believed in living and letting live, although, it hasbeen said, he was not so keen on the letting live part.
If Gabby had made good at a time when most West End Night Clubproprietors were trying to get enough money to get their shoessoled, it was because he had "vision." Gabby liked to think ofhimself as a Napoleon of night life, but a Napoleon with more"vision" than the original boyo. Gabby did not intend to end upon a St. Helena masquerading under the name of Dartmoor orPortland.
He had a series of mottos, which had assisted him during acareer not entirely devoid of incident. One was: "Play 'em alongand don't lose your temper." Another: "The sucker always comesback for more"; and another: "A wise manmight trust a manbut only a mug trusts a woman."
So there you are.
It was nearly twelve o'clock when Callaghan arrived. He lefthis hat with a pretty girl in the cloak-room. He walked along thepassage, went through the heavy velvet curtains and stood lookinground the main floor of the club. Whenever Callaghan had been inthe Ventura Club he had always looked at the large tastefullyfurnished room with a certain admiration for Gabby.
Other club proprietors sunk their dance floor a few feet andhad a raised balcony on which the dining tables were set aroundthe edges of the room, with a higher band platform at the end,and the furniture was always gold or chromium. Gabby did not doanything like that. He was original. His dance floor—anexcellent one, not too big or too small—was raised two feetoff the main floor, and the dining tables set on the lower levelthat surrounded it. The furniture was antique oak andcomfortable. An air of luxury, even of good taste, pervaded theatmosphere.
The band—a series of hand-pickedmaestros fromthe East End—played in a balcony about eight feet off thedance floor. At the moment it was resting, looking about it withthat peculiarly vacant expression of face adopted by swingplayers on the slightest excuse.
On the right-hand side of the room, in charge of a tall slimbrunette and a shorter plump blonde—two ladies who lostnothing by contrast—was the bar. Gabby, in a faultlesstuxedo, white marcella evening shirt and collar, was leaningagainst the far end smoking a Green Upmann. He smiled and wavedhis hand when he saw Callaghan.
Callaghan went over. Gabby said:
"Hallo, Slim. You're looking fine. One of these days when youwant to do me a good turn just let me know who your tailor is. Hecertainly knows how to cut clothes."
Callaghan cocked an eyebrow.
He said: "You don't do so badly yourself, Gabby."
Ventura shrugged his heavy shoulders.
"It's a tough game, Slim," he said. "It's all very well foryou fellows, but this war's doing me no good at all. Nobody's gotany money." He sighed. "I get very worried sometimes."
The sigh blended into an angelic grin which curved Gabby'slips and showed a set of teeth on which a dentist had expendedmuch platinum bridgework.
"I suppose you're still drinking whisky?" he concluded.
Callaghan nodded. Gabby ordered a large whisky for Callaghanand a gin and soda for himself.
He said: "So you're on the war path again, hey, Slim? It'sfunny, but I always know when you're looking for somebody. What'sthe matter? Has one of my clients been getting in bad?"
Callaghan shook his head. He drank a little whisky. Hesaid:
"I want to see Lancelot Vendayne. I've got a job throughhim—rather a nice one. I feel I'd like to buy him a drink.Do you know anything about him, Gabby?"
"Plenty," replied Ventura. "I don't know what I'd do withouthim. He spends money around here. That boy's clever. I wish I hadhis brains. And," he continued, "he's not only clever, but he's agentleman. It sounds almost impossible, I know"—he grinnedat Callaghan—"but it's a fact. He comes of an old familyand actually makes money on the Stock Exchange. Can you beatthat?"
Callaghan did not say anything. He finished his whisky.
"He'll be in," said Ventura. "He's usually in soon aftertwelve. But whether he'll have a lot of time to talk to-night, Idon't know."
Callaghan said: "Why won't he have time to talk?"
Gabby grinned.
"We've got a little poker game on—just three of usupstairs, at half-past twelve," he said. "Why don't you join in,Slim? If your luck's in you might win something."
Callaghan said: "It's an idea."
He looked round as Ventura's eyes went towards the entrancecurtains. Through them came a young man.
"Talk of angels..." said Gabby softly.
Callaghan was looking at Lancelot. Vendayne was nearly sixfeet tall. He had broad shoulders, thin hips. His face was open,his brow frank. He had that kind of wavy auburn hair that womenlike to run their fingers through. He came over to the bar. Gabbysaid:
"Good evening, Mr. Vendayne. In case you don't know, this isMr. Callaghan—Mr. Slim Callaghan of CallaghanInvestigations. He wants to have a little talk with you."
Vendayne shook hands. He said:
"I'm glad to meet you, Callaghan. You've probably been hearingabout me. Let's go and talk."
He led the way across the dance floor to a table on the otherside of the room. He signalled a waiter, ordered drinks. Hesaid:
"So you've seen old Layne. He's a nice old boy, isn't he?"
Callaghan said: "I saw him this evening. He gave me an outlineof the situation, but there are one or two points I want to talkabout. According to Layne my client is your uncle, but I take ityou're the person that's really responsible for me coming in onthis job?"
Lancelot nodded.
"Yes," he said. "I forced the situation because the situationhas got to be forced. I don't like it."
He offered his cigarette-case to Callaghan and lit theircigarettes. He went on:
"When I heard that the jewellery had been stolen I wasnaturally perturbed, because, as I expect Layne told you, underthe original deed, when my uncle dies and the jewellery comes tome I can do what I like with it. The deed said that the last malemember of the family who was over twenty-five years of age, andwho had no existing heir, becomes actual owner of thejewellery."
Callaghan nodded.
"I should have sold the stuff when it came to me," saidVendayne, "because, quite candidly, I don't see the use of havinga pile of antique jewellery simply being used at occasionaldinner parties or at private exhibitions. I've been told that ifthe stones were re-cut and re-set by experts to-day they wouldprobably double their value. I imagine myself being worth acouple of hundred thousand," he went on, "because as you probablyknow the doctors don't think that my uncle is going to live morethan another four or five years."
He leaned back in his chair and smiled happily.
"That suited my book excellently," he said. "I'm not in needof any money now. I've been rather lucky during the last year ortwo, and I'm a half partner in one of the few stock-brokingbusinesses that are making any money. But I look forward toretiring in eight or nine years' time, and having a goodtime."
Callaghan said: "You could have a pretty good time on£200,000."
Vendayne nodded.
"I shouldn't have had all that," he said, "because I shouldhave done the right thing by the girls."
Callaghan said: "Oh, you'd have done that... ?"
"Obviously," said Vendayne. "I'm perfectly certain that theold boy's not going to be able to leave anything very much tothem when he departs from this earth, and I must say they'dprobably think it a bit thick if I had all that money and theyhad to take jobs as governesses or something. Because withoutmoney they'd never be able to keep Margraud going. No, I'd madeup my mind that if I could have got £200,000 out of the sale ofthe jewellery I was going to give 'em a life interest in theincome from £30,000 each. Even then I should be doing prettywell. I'd still have £100,000."
Callaghan said: "Quite."
"You can imagine," said Vendayne, holding up his glass ofwhisky and looking through it, "that I didn't feel quite so goodwhen I heard about the robbery. I went down right away and saw myuncle. He'd already had the County Police in, and within ten daysthey'd got the Yard people in. The Chief Constable, who is rathera friend of my uncle's, had come to the conclusion that it was anastute job, and that the people who did it knew their way about.He thought they were probably first-class international crookswho knew the value of that stuff."
Callaghan said, "You thought the police would get the stuffback?"
Vendayne nodded.
"That was our first idea," he said. "After all, we thought itwould be impossible for them to dispose of jewels like theVendayne collection—that is, of course, unless they weregoing to have the stones dismounted or re-cut, but that wouldcost 'em some money. We didn't think they'd go to that trouble.When Scotland Yard came in, they thought the crooks' idea mighthave been to do a deal with the Insurance Company, who wouldcertainly have paid about £20,000 to cut their loss and get thestuff back. But Scotland Yard drew a blank. It's nearly threemonths, and they're just where they started.
"The next thing," Vendayne went on, "was the attitude of theInsurance Company. They haven't suggested that they're not goingto meet the claim, and I imagine their assessors have been prettybusy in the meantime trying to get a line of where the stuff is."He looked at Callaghan with a smile. "I'm probably teaching mygrandmother to suck eggs," he said, "but you know that InsuranceCompanies' assessors are pretty good, and if they can't find outwho's done the job and where the stuff is, I don't think anybodycan.
"About three weeks ago," he continued, "I thought it was timewe did something. I wondered what would be the best thing to do.Then one night some friends of mine were talking about you. Ithought it would be a pretty good idea to have you in onthis—for obvious reasons."
Callaghan finished his whisky.
"The obvious reasons being that you think I might force thehand of the Insurance Company?" he said.
Lancelot grinned.
"That's right," he agreed. "I don't know how you're going todo it, but quite obviously the Insurance Company have got to dosomething fairly quickly. They've either got to say they're notgoing to pay or they've got to pay. I want you to speed up thatprocess. I rather imagine," he said, "that with your technique weshouldn't have too much difficulty with the InsuranceCompany."
Callaghan said: "That's very nice of you."
He lit another cigarette.
Vendayne said: "Have you got any ideas about this thing?"
Callaghan nodded.
"I'm going down to Devonshire," he said. "I'm a great believerin atmosphere. I like to see the places where things happen.Sometimes I get an idea."
Vendayne said: "Well, I hope you'll let me know how thingsgo."
"Of course," said Callaghan. "Why not? By the way," he wenton, "Gabby was just talking about a little game of poker that youhad planned for to-night. He suggested I join in. Do youmind?"
Vendayne said: "The more the merrier. Three's too few for goodpoker anyway. Four's much better. What about it? We usually playupstairs."
"All right," said Callaghan.
He signalled the waiter. Ordered more drinks.
THE ornate cuckoo clock in the corner made a whirring noiseand struck three. Gabby yawned.
"I don't know about you gentlemen," he said with a smile thattook in every one. "But I suggest we call it a day—or anight. An' I think I'm losing."
Callaghan said: "That suits me. I'm losing a little too, Ithink."
Gabby raked in the counters. He said:
"I lose fifteen pounds, and, Slim, you lose twelve. Mr. Rainswins nine pounds and Mr. Vendayne eighteen."
Vendayne said: "You had bad luck, Callaghan. I hope it will gobetter next time."
Callaghan smiled. He put his hand into the breast pocket ofhis coat and produced a leather wallet. He placed it on the greenbaize table and flipped it open. Inside the wallet were six new fifty pound notes—Audrey Vendayne's contribution.
Lancelot Vendayne looked at the wallet. He said, with asmile:
"You came prepared to lose a lot."
Callaghan picked up one of the notes. He handed it toVendayne.
"Will you change that and take twelve pounds?" he asked. "Thenif Gabby gives you six and pays Rains we're all square."
Vendayne picked up the fifty pound note. He looked at it andsaid:
"There's something very attractive about a fifty poundnote."
He threw it over to Ventura.
"There you are, Gabby," he said. "You can do the paying outand give Mr. Callaghan his change."
Callaghan finished his drink. He got up and went to the cornerof the room. He got his hat, walked back to the table and pickedup the little pile of five and one pound notes that Ventura hadput down for him.
"Good-night," he said. "And thank you for the game."
Ventura said: "Use the back stairs, Slim. You'll find the dooropen at the bottom."
Callaghan nodded. He put on his hat and went out. He walkedslowly through the black-out in the direction of Berkeley Square:He looked very happy.
UP in his apartment he gave himself four fingers of whiskyneat, and began to walk up and down the sitting-room.
He was thinking about Audrey Vendayne. A hell of a woman, hethought. He imagined that there might be a spot of trouble withthe lady at some time or other. She was that type. And she didn'tlike him.
Callaghan began to grin. He was not averse to being dislikedby very pretty ladies at any time.
Well... what was she playing at? Whatever it was it wasimportant. Sufficiently important for her to take chances about.And she'd taken a chance. And it hadn't come off. Definitely, hethought, it had not come off...
He went into his bedroom and undressed. Then he walked intothe bathroom, sat down on the stool and began to rubeau-de-Cologne into his hair.
He was still grinning.
Chief Detective-Inspector Gringall looked out of the window ofhis office in Scotland Yard. The sunshine on the Embankment madehim feel contented. He took a short pipe from his pocket andbegan to fill it from a dilapidated tobacco pouch.
The telephone on Gringall's desk rang. Fields got up from hisdesk, walked across and answered it. After a minute he put hishand over the mouthpiece and said:
"It's Effie Thompson, Callaghan's secretary. She says he wouldlike to see you somewhere around three o'clock. She says he'sbeen retained in the Vendayne jewellery steal."
Gringall nodded.
"Tell her I'll be glad to see him," he said.
Fields did so and hung up. Gringall went back to his desk, satdown and began to draw fruit on the blotter. He drew a tomato anda banana and regarded his handiwork with his head on oneside.
"Ring down and find out who's handling that Vendayne job," hesaid. "And ask whoever it is if they'll let me have the folderand any notes there are."
Fields nodded.
"Walperton's handling the case," he said. "And as far as Iknow nothing's happened."
Gringall said: "Well, it will now..."
Fields grinned at his superior.
"You mean Callaghan?" he asked.
Gringall smiled.
"Yes, Fields," he said. "I mean Callaghan."
He began to draw a pineapple.
CALLAGHAN awoke at twelve o'clock, put his hands behind hishead and looked up at the ceiling. He spent five minutes doingthis, then, with a sudden movement, threw off the bedclothes andswung out of bed. He wore the top part of a pair of violetshantung silk pyjamas.
He walked over to the window and looked out. He stood therefor a moment yawning. Then he went into the sitting-room andtelephoned down to the office.
He said: "Good morning, Effie. Did you get Gringall?"
She said: "Yes; the appointment was made for three o'clock."
Callaghan said: "Ring Parvell & Co., the InsuranceAssessors in Eastcheap. Ask 'em if they'll let you know whichCompany covered the Vendayne jewellery. Whether the risk was fireand theft or just theft."
She said: "Very well. Oh... by the way, Mr. Ventura of theVentura Club's been on the telephone. He asked if he could have aword with you. He said he'd drop in here, at the office, if thatwould be convenient for you."
"That's all right," said Callaghan. "Tell him to come round attwo-thirty. I'll be down by that time."
Effie Thompson went on: "Just a moment, please, Mr. Callaghan.There's some mail here. There's a letter from a firm of lawyersasking you if you'll go in on a blackmail case. Their client'stoo frightened to go to the police apparently; and there's aninquiry from a cement firm. They want to know if you'llinvestigate some office leakages."
"No," said Callaghan, "I won't. And tell the otherpeople—the lawyers—to get their client to go to thepolice. They know damned well that blackmail cases always finishup at Scotland Yard—one way or another. Tell 'em a privatedetective only prolongs the agony. Anything else?"
"Yes," said Effie. "There's a cheque for two hundred and fiftypounds from the Vendayne solicitors. They say it's a retainer andfor expenses. They limit any further bill to three hundred andfifty pounds."
"Do they, hell..." muttered Callaghan. "All right. Acknowledgethe cheque and pay it into the bank."
She said: "I've already done both things."
Callaghan said: "You're too, too wonderful."
He hung up.
Callaghan went into his office at a quarter-past two. He waswearing a dark blue pinhead suit, a blue silk shirt with a softcollar and a black tie. As he went through the outer office EffieThompson noticed that the suit was new. She began to wonder aboutMiss Vendayne.
He sat down at his desk and lit a cigarette. He drew the smokeslowly down into his lungs, sending it out through one nostril.Effie Thompson came in from the outer office with her notebook inher hand.
"I got through to Parvell's," she said. "The Vendaynejewellery was insured by the Sphere & International AssuranceCompany. Their firm has covered it for the last two hundred andseventy years. They consider it a good risk and if anythingunder-insured. The jewellery was covered for theftandfire."
Callaghan said: "Thank you, Effie."
A bell sounded as the outer office door opened. She went out.After a moment she returned and said:
"Mr. Ventura."
Gabby reflected the first promise of spring. He was wearing alight grey suit, the exquisite cut of which took at least threeinches off his stomach; a cream silk shirt and collar, a crepe-de-chine tie in a nice shade of oyster with a cornelian anddiamond pin stuck in the middle of it. A grey soft hat matchingthe suit swung in his fleshy right hand.
Callaghan said: "Well, Gabby, what's eating you? Sit down." Helooked at Ventura's stomach. "You've got too much weight on yourfeet anyway."
Ventura dropped into the big leather armchair. He took out asilk handkerchief and inserted it with difficulty between thetight silk collar and his neck.
He said: "I think I'll have to go on a diet or something."
Callaghan nodded.
"Did you come round to tell me that, Gabby?" he asked.
Ventura wriggled a little in his chair. He said:
"Look, Slim, I know you and you know me. I suppose we mighteven go so far as to say that we're friends."
Callaghan lit another cigarette.
"We might," he said. He grinned. "The question is whetheranybody would believe us."
Ventura said: "Now, don't be tough, Slim. I suppose you'vestill got that Randall business sticking in your mind?"
Callaghan was still smiling amiably.
"That and a few other things," he said. "There's a lot ofthings about some of the clubs that you've run in your time thatI don't like, Gabby."
Ventura said softly: "Look, Slim, I got to make my living andmy clubs are pretty good these days. Look at the way I run theVentura."
"I know," said Callaghan. "And what about that other dump ofyours, the little place—The Gilded Lily? The last time Iwas in there it stunk so much of marihuana that I almost needed agas mask, but still..."
He looked at Ventura inquiringly.
Gabby said: "You're a hard case, Slim, and you're not makingthings any easier for me. I came round here because I wanted youto do me a favour."
Callaghan said: "That's what I thought. What's thefavour?"
"Nothing much," said Gabby. "Look, Slim, here's how it is: Ijust want you to tell me something without asking me anyquestions. This is sort of a personal thing, see? Well, it's likethis..." He wriggled his chair a little nearer to Callaghan'sdesk.
"You know me, Slim," he said. "You think I'm tough, but maybe I have my soft moments."
Callaghan said: "You're not trying to make me cry, Gabby, areyou?"
Ventura wrinkled his nose.
"I wish you wouldn't always take a poke at me," he said.
He flushed.
"All right," said Callaghan, "I won't take a poke at you.You're a soft-hearted feller an' well, where do we go fromthere?"
Ventura said: "Last night I lent somebody somemoney—£300 to be exact—no names no packdrill. I lentthis certain person six new fifty pound notes. All right. Well, Iparted with that dough because I fell for a hard luck story, see?And then do I get a surprise!"
Callaghan said: "Go on, tell me. I can hardly wait."
"Well," said Ventura slowly, "you came in last night to seeyoung Vendayne. You came into that poker game with us, and, sohelp me God, when we were settling up you pushed one of my notesback at me. When I saw the number on it I nearly had a fit."
Callaghan said: "It would be very tough if you did have a fit,Gabby."
"Well," said Ventura, "I wanted to know if you'd tell me whereyou got that note from, Slim. Last night when you opened yourcase I saw there were six new fifty pound notes. You gave me thetop one. I had the idea that the other five might have been mine,too."
"What you really mean is," said Callaghan, "that the otherfive might have been the money that you did this good turnwith."
"That's right," said Ventura.
Callaghan looked at the ceiling. After a minute he looked atGabby. He was smiling. He said:
"I'm afraid I can't help you a lot, Gabby. I got that moneyfrom Gortells, the wine merchants that supply the Safety ValveBottle Party. I needed £500, and when I want money after thebank's closed I always go to Gortells for it. I sent 'em a chequeround and they cashed it. I paid a bill with the other twohundred."
Ventura got up.
"I see," he said.
"You don't sound very satisfied, Gabby," said Callaghan.
Ventura shrugged his shoulders.
"What the hell!" he said. "I was a mug to come round,anyway."
Callaghan said: "You always were a mug, Gabby."
Ventura was at the door. He turned quickly. His eyes were veryhard, very cold. He said:
"Maybe I'm not always going to be a sucker. So long,Slim."
" 'Bye, Gabby," said Callaghan.
He walked over to the door and watched Ventura leave throughthe outer office. He caught the look in Effie's eyes as the nightclub proprietor passed her.
He said: "You don't like Mr. Ventura, do you, Effie?"
She said: "I do not. I think he looks like a white-slaver,don't you, Mr. Callaghan?"
Callaghan said: "I wouldn't know. I've never been white-slaved. Have you?"
He took his hat off the hat-stand.
"I'm going down to see Gringall, Effie," he said. "Maybe I'llbe back, maybe not. I'm going down to Devonshire to-morrow. Idon't know how long I'll be there. I'll keep in touch withyou."
She said: "Very well, Mr. Callaghan." When he got to the doorshe added very calmly: "I hope the weather keeps fine for you,sir."
IT was five-and-twenty to three when Callaghan went intoGringall's office. Gringall was looking out of the window,smoking his pipe. He said:
"Hallo, Slim, you're looking well. What—another suit!How you private detectives make money!"
Callaghan said: "I've got a patient tailor, Gringall. Andcongratulations on getting that promotion. Chief Detective-Inspector Gringall sounds nice, doesn't it?"
Gringall went to his desk and sat down. He nodded towards thechair on the other side.
"I gather you're going to ask a favour," he said. "That's whyyou brought my promotion up. I suppose you're thinking that I gotmy step up over the Riverton case, and I suppose that you're alsothinking that you pulled that out of the bag for me when Icouldn't do it."
Callaghan said: "Nothing was farther from my mind,Gringall."
Gringall said: "I'm sure of that."
He looked at the ceiling. Callaghan sat down and lit acigarette. He said:
"Look, Gringall, I wanted to ask your advice..."
Gringall looked over at Fields, who was grinning at him.
Callaghan said: "What's the joke?"
He looked from one to the other.
"Fields and I were both thinking the same thing. Whenever youcome down here and ask my advice there is always a lot of troublefor us all almost immediately afterwards."
Callaghan said: "Well, there's going to be no trouble thistime."
He blew a smoke ring, watched it sail across the office.
He said: "I always put my cards on the table and there's onething I don't like doing... I don't like bucking up against theofficial police forces."
Gringall said: "Oh, no? If you had to serve one year for everytime you've bucked the official police forces as you call it,you'd probably never see daylight again. I nearly brought acharge of 'obstruction of a police officer, etc....' over thatlast little job of yours."
Callaghan said amiably: "Let's let bygones be bygones."
"We will," said Gringall. "So you've come here to ask someadvice because you don't want to go bucking against the officialforce, and I gather you've been retained in the Vendaynecase."
Callaghan nodded.
"That's the trouble," he said. "Here's a case where the policehave been working for something like three months, and nothing'shappened. Then old man Vendayne decides to put me in. Well, whatchance have I got? If you boys down here couldn't get away withanything, what am I going to do?"
Gringall said: "I had the folder sent up this morning whenyour secretary rang through. Walperton has been handling thecase, and as you know he's one of our best officers. Well, thewhole thing's so simple that it hurts."
He got up, walked over to the window. He stood with his backto it looking at Callaghan.
"Whoever it was had this jewellery were a pretty fly crowd,"he said. "The job was done very nicely. Walperton doesn't knowhow they got into the Manor House, but he thinks they got inthrough a french window at the back. The catch had been forcedbut the funny thing was that there weren't any prints on thewindow or on the sill or anywhere else, and if they'd made anyfootmarks on the flower-bed outside they'd covered 'em overbefore they left. The safe was just opened. It wasn't cracked.Whoever opened the safe knew the combination. There were noprints on the safe. There's the story."
Callaghan shook his head.
"That's not an easy one, is it? I feel a little sorry forWalperton," he went on. "Tell me something, Gringall. What's thematter with the Sphere & International Assurance Company?They're being a little sticky about paying the claim, aren'tthey?"
Gringall shrugged his shoulders.
"What would you do?" he said.
Callaghan nodded.
"You mean their idea is it's an inside job?"
"That's right," said Gringall. "I should think that was theiridea. Yet," he went on, "the servants at Margraud Manor have allbeen there for donkey's years. There's no reason to suspect anyone of them."
Callaghan said: "I suppose it was an old safe?"
"A Climax," said Gringall. "Old, but still very good.Why?"
Callaghan grinned.
"You know as well as I do," he said, "that a smart bunch ofcrooks could very easily get at somebody who used to work in theClimax factory. Maybe those boys had that safe combination beforethey ever went down to Devonshire."
Gringall said: "Perhaps you're right." He relit his pipe. "Youknow, Slim," he said, "I think you've come to the wrong place.You really came here to find out why the Insurance Company areholding up that claim. Well, I don't know, and Walperton doesn'tknow, but they do know. Why don't you go and ask them?"
Callaghan said: "Tell me something, Gringall. Have they hadanybody in on this job?"
Gringall nodded.
"Two of the smartest assessors in this country," he said."Both hand-picked men who know the history of every jewel thiefin this country, and that doesn't seem to have done much good."Gringall looked at the ceiling. "Now if you are as wise as Ithink you are..."
Callaghan grinned.
"What would you do, Gringall?" he asked.
The police officer said: "Well, it's only an idea, but Ishould think the Insurance Company might like to put you inthemselves on this."
Callaghan said: "You mean, I could investigate this job forthem, too."
He was smiling.
"Something like that," said Gringall.
Callaghan got up.
"I'll be getting along," he said. "Thank you for being sonice."
He had reached the door when Gringall said:
"Just a minute, Slim. Maybe I've given you a good tip. If byany chance, in the course of your investigations either for theVendayne family or the Insurance Company—if theydecided it was worth their while to employ you—you becomein possession of knowledge of a criminal act or acts having takenplace in connection with this steal, I take it you'd let us knowabout it?"
Callaghan said: "Of course. 'Bye Gringall."
He closed the door quietly behind him.
Fields said: "Like hell he'd let us know, sir."
Gringall looked at his subordinate.
"How do you know?" he said. "He might if it was worth hiswhile."
He took off the telephone receiver and rang Room No. 12. Hesaid:
"Is that you, Walperton? Listen to this. Callaghan's beenretained by the family in that Vendayne job. And I've got an ideahe's on his way to the Sphere & International Assurance totry and get them to put him in as well. So you can look out forfireworks."
Walperton said: "I will, sir. And if Mister Callaghan gets inthe way I'm going to make things hot for him."
"Do," said Gringall. "Only while you're on the job, Walperton,make certain he doesn't make things hot for you instead. Good-bye..."
He hung up. He looked at Fields.
Fields said: "I feel sorry for Walperton."
Gringall nodded.
"Me, too," he said
He began to draw a lemon.
CALLAGHAN pulled the Jaguar into the side of theroad by the Clock Tower at Newton Abbott. Fifty yards away,standing in the entrance of the Golden Hind, was Nikolls.
He strolled towards the car. He said:
"Hallo, Slim. The women around here have got nice hips. I'venever seen so many nice shapes... It must be the cream...."
They went into the bar. Callaghan ordered two double whiskies.They sat at a little table in the corner. When he had finishedhis drink, Callaghan said:
"We've got to play this easily, Windy. We're working for theInsurance Company as well."
He grinned sardonically.
Nikolls said: "My God... what a set-up. How did you pullthat one?"
He picked up the empty glasses and went over to the bar. Hereturned with the glasses filled.
Callaghan said: "I saw Gringall. A D.I. named Walperton ishandling this case. He's just where he started. Gringallsuggested that I had a word with the Sphere &International—the Company who covered the insurance. I tookthe tip. I told them that I was in the case for the Vendaynefamily. After a lot of flirting with the situation they asked meif I'd come in and represent them too. They said that theVendayne family's interests weretheir interests.Clever... that..."
Nikolls said: "You're tellin'me. So the Insurancepeople don't like it."
Callaghan shrugged his shoulders.
"They're in a jam," he said. "Layne, the Vendayne lawyer, musthave written 'em just after he'd seen me. He said that unlessthey paid up within a month he was going to bring an action.They're hoping that before the month's out I shall have gotsomething that'll help 'em. If I haven't, they've got topay."
Nikolls nodded.
"Still, it ain't really ethical, Slim, is it?" he asked. "Why,dam' it, you're actin' for everybody."
"Why not?" said Callaghan. He was smiling pleasantly. "If thisrobbery is all square and above board what have the Vendaynes gotto be afraid of? If it's not..."
Nikolls lit a cigarette.
"I think it stinks," he said.
Callaghan's grin broadened.
"You've got a theory, Windy?" he said accusingly.
Nikolls grinned.
"It's stickin' out a foot. Little Audrey is the girl. She'spinched the stuff so that the claim could be put in. She'spinched it an' hidden it in the back garden or somewhere. That'swhy she paid you that money to keep out of the case. Besides... Iknowwhy she pulled the job."
"I'm still listening," said Callaghan.
"I got around plenty yesterday," Nikolls began. "I got out toKingsbridge an' Gara, an' around Totnes. I been in all the pubsaround Prawle and Hallsands. I learned an awful lot."
Callaghan raised his eyebrows.
"Such as... ?" he queried.
Nikolls took a large gulp of whisky. He continued:
"This Vendayne bunch are a sort of institution in this county.Especially around Gara. They been living here since Noah's Ark orsomethin'. Everybody knows 'em. The old boy—theMajor—is a honey. Nice an' affable an' quiet an'aristocratic—a real guy. He's nutty about the family, an'he's nutty about Margraud Manor, which is a helluva place an'must cost a lot to keep goin'.
"O.K. Well, he ain't got a lot of money. He's got about fourthousand a year, an' what's that worth these days to keep up aplace like Margraud... sweet Fanny Adams... Well, a year ago theManor House is practically fallin' to pieces, an' he's mad keento have it done up. It's goin' to be an expensive job but hewants it done. So does Audrey, an' it looks like Audrey has got ascheme to get the Manor repaired. She sold the old man the ideato mortgage the place and get it repaired with the dough he gotfor the mortgage. Well, he got £20,000, and he did the whole loton the repair bill.
"Well, that mortgage was the shortest one I've ever heard of.It was a 6½% mortgage for one year. Now how was the Major goin'to pay that mortgage off in a year? Where was the dough comin'from to pay £20,000 plus 6½%?
"But do you know what the joke is, Slim? He's paid it off. Iwent into Exeter and looked it up. The satisfaction of themortgage is recorded on the original deed. Well, what's theanswer to that one?"
Nikolls drank some more whisky. He went on:
"There's another funny thing. Layne is the family lawyer,ain't he? Well, you'da thought a job like that woulda beenhandled by the family lawyer. Well, it wasn't. Some lawyer inExeter put that mortgage through. The name of the firm wasendorsed on the deed."
Callaghan said: "I'm still waiting for the theory,Windy..."
"Little Audrey is my theory," Nikolls grinned. "The old boy issorta simple, see... simple an' nice. I reckon Audrey tells himto go inta this mortage business knowin' that she can pull a fastone. She thinks that she's gonna wait a few months an' then pinchthe jewellery. She thinks that the Vendayne reputation is sogoddam swell that the Insurance people will pay up on the nail.Then when they pay up she reckons the old man can pay off themortgage out of the insurance money."
Nikolls picked up the glasses, went to the bar, ordered thesame again and wandered back. He said:
"Audrey is just too sweet. Everybody likes Audrey. She playsgolf an' sails a boat and is nice an' county an' all that. Halfthe boyos around here have tried to get themselves engaged tothat baby but she ain't havin' any. She's sorta remote if you getme... goes for long walks an' all that sorta stuff. Maybe Audreyis just the sort of quiet momma who would try an' pull a fastone. She could get away with it, too."
Callaghan nodded.
"She might..." he said. "Because it doesn't matter a damn whatthe Sphere & International peoplethink. If they'vegot nothing tangible by the end of this month they'vegotto pay even if they are practically certain that it's an insidejob done by somebody who was planning a fake claim."
Nikolls nodded.
"Sure," he said. "An' by what I can hear of the old Major he'dnever suspect anythin' was wrong in a million years. He's one ofthose guys who believe in everybody, an' if somebody tried totell him that Audrey had pulled a fast one he'd probablychallenge 'em to a duel or somethin'."
Callaghan finished his third whisky.
"It's a nice story, Windy," he said. "But there's one thing wedon't know. Even if Audrey did think that the Insurance Companywould pay on the stolen jewellery, they haven't done so, havethey? All right, where did the Major get the money to pay thismortgage off with?"
Nikolls shrugged.
"That's easy," he said. "Maybe the old boy or Audrey haveborrowed the dough on the strength of the Insurance Companypaying. Maybe it was a personal loan from somebody theyknow."
Callaghan nodded.
"Perhaps," he said. "But I don't think so."
He blew a smoke ring.
"Tell me about the other girls, Windy," he said.
Nikolls began to grin. He stretched himself back in his chairand switched his cigarette to the other side of his mouth.
"There's a pair for you," he said. "A pair of honeys. Look...let's take Clarissa first of all. She's the next eldest toAudrey. Well, Clarissa is something to look at, they tell me.She's tall an' she's got a figure that was just made forknitwear. She's got dark, auburn sorta hair an' eyes that look asif they couldn't say scram to a kitten, an' she ain't too fond ofEsme either..."
Callaghan asked: "What about Esme?"
"That baby's a handful," said Nikolls. "The stories they tellabout Esme is just nobody's business. Boy, I could write a bookabout that dame. She's got a big trouble. Her trouble is that shekeeps fallin' in love all the time, but she don't fall in lovewith the right guys. She just goes for anything that is big an'bronzed and blue-eyed. She likes 'em with lots of muscle an' nobrains. There's a sorta perpetual war goin' on between Clarissaan' Esme. Every time Esme gets herself a new boy friend, Clarissatries to muscle in an' pinch the sap off her. Them girls must seea whole lotta life one way an' another."
Callaghan grinned.
"High spirits," he said, "and a spot of temperament."
"Temperamentplus," agreed Nikolls. "Last year—acouple months before the War broke—Esme falls for a good-lookin' young fisherman from Beesands. She falls like a tonof bricks. There was plenty of trouble about it. She swore shewas goin' to marry this fishin' guy or die in the attempt. Thingsgot so tough that the old boy had to send her off for a trip. Soshe went off on a cruise to South Africa for six months. I reckonthe old boy thought that a spot of travel would be good for hislittle daughter. Well... he was wrong. She's been a bit worsesince she's been back. That baby is just a natural flirt. Anytimeshe sees somethin' in pants she does a couple backfalls an'thinks he must be the one an' only..."
Callaghan smoked silently for a moment. Then:
"What do Clarissa and Esme do with themselves when they aren'tat home? How do they spend their evenings, for instance?"
"I was comin' to that," said Nikolls. "Yesterday evenin' I gottalkin' to some guy who keeps a little pub on the Totnes-Plymouthroad. He said that he'd got sorta intrigued with seein' Clarissaand Esme drivin' past at night as if the devil was after'em—they both got little cars those two—an' he tookthe trouble to find out. It seems as if there's a dump a fewmiles past him—a roadhouse called The Yard Arm. This YardArm hang-out usta be a farmhouse, an' some smart guy took it an'turned it into a roadhouse with a restaurant an' bar an'everything. Well, it looks as if Clarissa an' Esme put in a wholelot of time around that dump."
Callaghan asked: "Where are your bags, Windy?"
"I got 'em parked over at a news-shop around the corner," saidNikolls. "I better go put 'em on the car. I've garaged the hiredcar at Kingsbridge. I thought it would be sorta central if wewanted it."
Callaghan nodded.
"You get the bags on the car," he said. "I'll be with you infive minutes."
He finished his drink and went out into the street. He walkeduntil he came to the post office. Inside he bought a registeredenvelope.
He went over to the desk and took a telegraph form. He wroteon it:
With the compliments ofCallaghan Investigations to Miss Vendayne.
He took out his wallet, extracted six fifty pound notes,folded them in the telegraph form and put the package in theregistered envelope. He addressed the envelope to:
Miss Audrey Vendayne,
Margrand Manor,
Near Gara,
Devon.
He waited while the clerk wrote out the receipt; then he wentback to the car. Nikolls was reading an evening paper.
Callaghan got in and let in the gear. He said as the carstarted:
"I think this might be very interesting."
Nikolls grinned.
"That's what I thought, but I didn't like to say so. I get shysometimes."
IT was seven-thirty when Callaghan braked the car to astandstill outside the pillared portico of Margraud. As he wentup the stone steps, followed by Nikolls, the door opened. Framedin the doorway stood one of the oldest, most venerable butlersthat Callaghan had ever seen. His hair was white and his faceradiated that good-nature and good manners peculiar to Devonshirepeople.
He said: "If you will let me have your keys, sir, I'll getyour things unpacked. The Major thought you'd like to go up toyour rooms and change. He said he'd like to see you in thelibrary at a quarter to eight if that was convenient to you.Dinner is at eight."
Callaghan nodded. He asked the butler what his name was. Theold man said:
"My name is Stevens, sir." He paused for a minute. Then hewent on: "I'm very glad you've come, sir. We're all a littleworried about this thing—the servants, I mean."
Callaghan said: "Quite." Then he added with a smile. "Ishouldn't worry if I were you, Stevens. After all what haveyou got to worry about?"
He followed the old man up the broad stairs.
CALLAGHAN sat in a big chair on one side of the libraryfireplace in which a cheerful fire was burning. On the other sideMajor Vendayne stood, one elbow resting on the mantelpiece,looking at the detective.
Callaghan thought that if the Vendayne jewellery steal was aninside job, he would bet his last half-crown that Major Vendayneknew nothing about it.
He looked much more than his fifty-five years. His figure,although straight, was thin; his face frail and ascetic looking,with that high flush on the cheekbones often associated withheart cases.
Callaghan said: "I understand that your lawyers have writtento the Sphere & International and given 'em a month to pay.Otherwise they're going to issue a writ. I think that was a wisething to do."
Vendayne sighed. He said:
"I wonder." He paused for a moment; then went on: "They're avery good company. As you know, the insurance of the jewelleryhas been in the hands of the Sphere & International fornearly three hundred years. That's what is so worrying. I feelthey must have some reason for not having paid the claimbefore."
Callaghan shrugged his shoulders.
"When a hundred thousand pounds worth of jewellery is stolen,Major," he said, "any Insurance Company has got to go throughcertain processes before they pay a claim. First of all they'vegot to try and find the jewellery. You probably know as well as Ido that even if the police are working on a case the InsuranceCompany put assessors on the job. Well, it seems as if in thiscase nothing's happened. I expect you'll find they'll pay theclaim before the month's out, Major, unless..."
Vendayne looked at Callaghan.
"Unless what?" he said.
"Unless during that time the company get an idea that thisrobbery was an inside job and that somebody interestedfinancially in that jewellery had a hand in stealing it. Therehave been fake insurance claims, you know, Major, beforenow."
"I suppose there have," said the Major. "But it's rather aterrible thought to have in one's mind. The only people living inthis house are myself and my three daughters. Naturally none ofus could possibly have had anything to do with it. Beyond thatthere are the servants, every one of whom has practically grownup with the family. We know everything about them. It's quiteimpossible to associate this robbery with any of them."
Callaghan said: "You haven't had an odd man or woman workingabout the place—a jobbing gardener, ahousemaid—someone who stayed for a few weeks—whomight possibly have got the combination of the safe and given itto associates outside?"
"No," said the Major, "we have not."
Callaghan said: "You know, Major, there are one or two thingsabout this robbery which aren't too easy. It was a coincidencethat whoever stole that stuff knew it was going to be in thehouse that night. It was another coincidence that they knew justhow to get into the house without disturbing anybody, and thethird coincidence is that they knew the combination of the safe.I don't like it."
Vendayne said: "What do you propose to do? Have you got anyideas as to how you're going to start on this thing?"
Callaghan shrugged his shoulders again.
"How can I?" he said. "You have got to remember that thisrobbery took place three months ago. Directly you had reportedthe matter to the local police they would have inquired about anystrangers in the vicinity. They would have checked up oneverybody, and whoever it is has got that stuff isn't in anyparticular hurry to sell it."
Callaghan took out his cigarette-case and lit a cigarette.
"I gather I've come in on this mainly through your nephew,Lancelot Vendayne," he said. "And I don't think the idea's a badone. After all, the fact that you've put a private investigatorin on this job while it's still being handled by the police showsthe Insurance Company that at least you're doing your best. Itwould be funny if we found that jewellery..."
Vendayne said: "It would be wonderful. The jewels have been inthis family for hundreds of years. I should hate to feel thatthey were lost to us, more especially to Lancelot who, as youknow, would have been the actual owner under the terms of theoriginal will."
He sighed.
"Well, we must hope for the best, Mr. Callaghan," he said. "Inthe meantime, come into the drawing-room. I want you to meet mydaughters."
Callaghan stubbed out his cigarette.
He said: "I've been looking forward to meeting them."
He followed his host.
CLARISSA VENDAYNE was standing in front of the fireplace inthe large oak panelled drawing-room, drinking a glass of sherry.She was tall, slim. Her face was very white and her large browneyes rested humorously on Esme, who was sprawled in a chair bythe side of the fire. Audrey Vendayne, who was writing a letterat a table by the french windows, got up as the Major andCallaghan entered the room.
Vendayne said: "These are my three daughters, Audrey, Clarissaand Esme. My dears, this is Mr. Callaghan, who I hope is going tofind the jewellery for us."
Callaghan smiled. His eyes took in Esme, who was arranging herskirts demurely, then wandered to Clarissa, who was looking athim under deep lashes over the rim of her sherry glass. Audreywas not smiling. It was with a certain amount of difficulty thatshe kept the hostility out of her eyes. Callaghan gave her anextra smile.
Esme said to Clarissa: "We'll finish our conversationafterwards. I'm never rude in front of guests."
Clarissa made a face.
"No?" she said. "And may I ask how long have you been socourteous?"
She said to Callaghan: "We're an extraordinary family, Mr. Callaghan. You'll probably realise that in a day or two. We have only one serious trouble—Esme."
Esme said: "Mr. Callaghan, my sister can't help it. Being abit of a basket—I mean."
Vendayne said: "Children,please!"
Audrey said: "Esme, your language is foul."
Esme picked up her glass of sherry from the small table besideher.
"Are you trying to tell me, Audrey, that Mr. Callaghan hasnever heard the word basket before?"
Audrey said: "Mr. Callaghan has probably heard a lot ofthings. But he doesn't have to hear them at Margraud."
Esme said: "Well, I always think it's best for a detective toknow the worst, and Clarissa is a basket."
Clarissa said: "Don't repeat yourself, darling. For myself, Ithink it's just too, too thrilling to have a detective in thehouse."
She shot a slow smile at Callaghan.
"For once," said Esme, "I agree with you. I imagine he'll takeyou out on to the balcony this evening and drag the whole of yourpast life from you."
Clarissa said: "That would be interesting, but I think notpossible. He couldn't possibly stay here as long as that wouldtake."
Vendayne said: "Mr. Callaghan, you mustn't take my littlegirls too seriously. They don't mean anything."
Callaghan said: "I'm sure they don't. By the way," he went on,addressing the three women, "are you going to be in to-night?"
Clarissa said: "I knew it. He's going to cross-examine us.It's going to be like the district attorney in the gangsterfilms."
"Not necessarily," said Callaghan. "But I want to talk to youall about what happened on the night of the robbery. I want toknow where you were, if you heard or noticed anything. It's justa matter of routine, of course."
Esme said: "I'm fearfully sorry, Mr. Callaghan. I'd love it,but I've got an appointment to-night."
She looked at Clarissa.
Clarissa said:"That reminds me that I think I havetoo. Would to-morrow do, Mr. Callaghan?"
"To-morrow would be excellent," said Callaghan.
Esme said: "Perhaps it would be a good idea if you deal withAudrey to-night. I've often thought shewas a bitmysterious."
Clarissa said: "Definitely."
Audrey said: "You two are ridiculous."
Stevens came in with sherry glasses. A minute afterwardsNikolls arrived. The Major introduced him.
Nikolls said: "I don't know what you think, ladies, but Ireckon this is goin' to be one of the most interestin' cases inmy life."
Clarissa favoured him with a long look.
"Mr. Nikolls," she said, "you look to me like a man who's hada great deal of experience. One day we must get together in theflower garden and you must tell me about it."
Nikolls said: "Why not? Let's do that."
Stevens reappeared and announced that dinner was served. Theywent into the dining-room.
On the way Nikolls whispered to Callaghan: "Slim, I alwaysthought this was goin' to be good. Now, havin' seen these babiesIknow it's goin' to be ariot!"
THE first shadows were beginning to fall. Callaghan stood atthe far edge of the rolling lawn behind Margraud Manor. In frontof him on the other side of the neatly clipped hedge, the fieldsrolled down to the edge of the cliffs a mile and a half away.
Callaghan turned and began to walk towards the house. Betweenthe lawn and the covered veranda that ran round the back of thehouse, a series of terraces rose one above the other. Callaghan,who had an eye for atmosphere, stood there with the cool eveningwind on his face, thinking that if he had a choice between owningthe Vendayne jewellery or Margraud, he'd have the ManorHouse.
Nikolls came round the side of the house. Callaghan went tomeet him.
Nikolls said: "I like this. This is the sort of life I go for.Nice air, nice women an' nice food." He grinned at Callaghan."Clarissa and Esme don't like each other much, do they?" hesaid.
"Not so you'd notice it," said Callaghan. "I wonder what thewar is between those two."
Nikolls said: "I've got an idea that Clarissa is one of thosebabies who justhave to queer other dames' pitches."
Callaghan nodded.
"I thought that too," he said. "After all, the easiest thingfor two women to quarrel over is a man."
"I've just been walkin' around the garage," Nikolls went on."The gardener is pumpin' up a tire of Esme's car, and when he'sdone that he's goin' to fill the tank of Clarissa's roadster.Those two are goin' places."
Callaghan said: "Listen Windy. Go back to the garage and hangaround. When Esme comes out ask her if she can drop you atKingsbridge. Wherever she's going to it's ten to one she'll haveto go through the town. Ask her to drop you there. If she does,get the hired car out of the garage, get over to this Yard Armplace. Have a look round and see if you can pick upanything."
"O.K.," said Nikolls.
He went off.
Callaghan walked up the terrace steps towards the house. Hesat down in a low chair on the balcony. He lit a cigarette andbegan to blow smoke rings. A soft voice said:
"Mr. Callaghan."
Callaghan got up. It was Audrey Vendayne. Looking at her inthe half light Callaghan thought that except for the temperamentshe had a great deal more, in his opinion, than either Clarissaor Esme. He liked the lines of her slim black dinner frock.
He said amiably: "It's a lovely evening, isn't it?"
She said coldly: "Possibly, Mr. Callaghan, you can imaginethat I didn't want to talk to you about the evening."
"No?" said Callaghan. "What did you want to talk about?"
"Three hundred pounds," she said. She smiled cynically. "I'vealways been led to believe that private detectives are ratherstrange people," she went on, "but I couldn't imagine even aprivate detective having the effrontery to do what you did."
Callaghan knocked the ash off his cigarette. He saidslowly:
"You mean taking that three hundred pounds from you to keepout of this case and then going on with the job?"
"That is what I mean," she said.
Callaghan said: "Miss Vendayne, I think you're stupid.Whatever personal opinion you may have of private detectivesthey're usually considered to be intelligent. You must admit itwas particularly stupid of you to try and bribe me to keep out ofthis investigation."
He drew a mouthful of smoke down into his lungs and exhaled itslowly through one nostril. He continued:
"Quite obviously if a private detective wasn't straight, he'ddo what I did—keep the money and still go on with the job."He grinned. "After all, I was paid £250 yesterday by yourfather's lawyers. If on the other hand the detective was anhonest man; supposing—if such a thing werepossible—and he wanted to do a straight job of work, thenhis best plan would be to play you along to find out just why youwanted him to lay off the case. You couldn't squeal anyway."
Her eyes flashed. She said:
"I told you my reasons for not wanting you here."
"Maybe," said Callaghan. He was smiling. "A lot of people tellme things, but I don'thave to believe them."
She looked at him. Her eyes were wide with amazement.
"Mr. Callaghan," she said, "are you trying to tell me that I'ma liar?"
"No," said Callaghan. "I'm not trying to tellyouanything, but I'm going to state some facts to you, and you canthink 'em out. When you rang my office the night before last andmade that appointment to meet me at the Ventura Club, I wonderedwhy."
He paused.
She said: "Howvery interesting."
Callaghan grinned.
"I'm going to be still more interesting," he said. "I'll tellyou why you did it. You had a reason for making that appointmentto meet me at the Ventura Club, the reason being that before yousaw me you wanted to see Gabby Ventura. You thought it would be agood thing to have a little ammunition to bribe me with ifnecessary."
Callaghan stopped talking. He flicked the ash off hiscigarette and looked at her. One corner of his mouth was wreathedin a cynical smile.
"Well?" he queried.
She said nothing. He continued:
"You got to the Ventura Club early and you borrowed £300 fromGabby Ventura. Then you waited outside till I came along.
"Strangely enough," said Callaghan, "I went back to the clublater. I wanted to see Lancelot. I got into a little poker gamewith Lancelot and Gabby and another man. I lost some money, and Ipaid my losses with one of the fifty pound notes that you gaveme."
Callaghan's grin broadened.
"Yesterday morning," he went on, "Gabby Ventura came round tomy office trying to find out where I got the note from. He saidhe'd lent somebody some money the night before. Naturally he wasvery interested to know just how and why that fifty pound notehad got into my hands."
Callaghan's grin altered. It became almost angelic.
"And you don't like being called a liar, do you, MissVendayne?" he concluded.
She stood looking out over the terraces. She said nothing.Callaghan stubbed out his cigarette and lit another.
"The joke is," he said, "I don't really disbelieve you.Immediately I saw your father I could understand any daughterwanting to save him any trouble. He's a sick man. All I say isthat your technique wasn't too clever. If I were you I'd rememberin the future that even if you think private detectives aredishonest as a tribe they're seldom unintelligent. At least thisone isn't."
She said: "Mr. Callaghan, why should you believe that I aminterested in anything you think?"
"That's just another bluff," said Callaghan. "You're fearfullyinterested in what I think, and I know it. The trouble is thatyou're one of those people who've still got to learn that honestyis the best policy."
His smile showed his white teeth. He said:
"I'll make a little bet with you. Before we're through on thisjob, you'll tell me what's on your mind."
"Really," she said sarcastically. "And, of course, you knowwhy I shall do that."
"I can make a good guess," said Callaghan. "Believe it or notI can be quite useful when people are in tight corners, and I'vegot an idea you're in one."
She turned on her heel and disappeared through the frenchwindows.
Callaghan walked down the terrace smoking, appreciating theevening air.
SOMEWHERE in the Manor House a clock struckeleven. Callaghan thought that the chimes, brassy and resonant,possessed an almost antique note that might well be associatedwith a headless ghost that wandered playfully about the dark,oaken corridors.
He lay stretched out on the four-poster bed in his room,looking at the ceiling, wondering why he disliked oak panellingeven when it was relieved by tastefully selected chintzes.
After a moment he concluded that he was not really thinkingabout panelling or chintz; that his mind was concerned withAudrey Vendayne.
After all, you've got to know a man like Gabby fairly well toborrow three hundred pounds... if you are a woman.
He got up, switched on the light, straightened his tie. Hewent over to the corner cupboard and took out a bottle of ryewhisky and a glass. He drank five fingers of neat whisky, lit acigarette and went downstairs.
When he reached the big hallway he began to cough. He coughedfor some time. Then he replaced the cigarette in his mouth andwalked towards the doorway.
Behind him, in the main passage, a door opened. AudreyVendayne's voice said: "Oh, Mr. Callaghan."
Callaghan turned. He was smiling cheerfully. He said:
"Hallo... Miss Vendayne. It seems to be a nice night. Ithought I'd go and look at it. Will you come too?"
She said shortly: "No thank you."
She walked towards him and stopped when she was a foot or twoaway from him.
Callaghan was thinking to himself. "She doesn't like me a bit.And she isn't quite certain why. She's wondering just how crookedI am and just how much she can play me along. She's fed up to theback teeth about that three hundred..."
He grinned amiably at her.
She said: "I've been talking to my father. We've come to aconclusion. It should interest you."
Callaghan said nothing.
"I think, and my father agrees with me, that in thecircumstances we ought to postpone the claim against the Sphere& International Company. It's quite obvious from theirattitude that they think there's something wrong with the claim.Or alternatively the police have not had time to find theculprits. We propose to give them more time. If they fail we canalways claim when the position is more definite."
Callaghan said: "It would be a good idea if it worked."
"What would be a good idea, Mr. Callaghan?" sheasked.
His smile was beatific.
"It would be a good idea if I fell for that line of talk andallowed the Major to fall for it," he said. "If I fell for it I'dpack my bags and get out because there wouldn't be anything or meto do here. Well... I'm not going to do that. I'm going to stayhere until such time as I get my hands on something tangible...that is if I haven't got something tangible now..."
She turned away with an angry gesture and moved towards thestaircase. She stopped with her foot on the first stair and halfturned. Callaghan liked the pose. He thought that she had quitedelightful ankles, that her frock hung gracefully, that the poiseof her head was as it should be. He noticed that, under the halllight, her hair had auburn tints.
She said: "You're really an impossible person, aren'tyou?"
"Maybe," said Callaghan. "But the best thing you can do is tostand for my being impossible, otherwise I'm going to tell theMajor that you went dashing up to town for the express purpose oftouching one of the lousiest night club proprietors in London forthree hundred pounds to buy me off with, only a few hours afteryour own lawyers had put me in on this business. I don't thinkyou'd like that."
She smiled. There was a great deal of dislike in hersmile.
"Perhaps I shouldn't," she said. "Any more than you would likemy father to know that having accepted the case you took themoney from me and kept it."
He grinned at her.
"And you're going to tell him, I suppose?" he asked. "Stickingto that three hundred was about the safest thing I ever did in mylife. You just can't do anything about it. It's one of thosethings you have to stand for and like."
She took her foot off the stair and faced him. Her face wasflushed. She said, controlling her voice:
"I suppose it's part of the technique of a private detectiveto be as gratuitously insolent as possible."
There was a world of contempt in her voice.
"Thatis fairly right," said Callaghan very cheerfully.He drew some smoke down into his lungs and began to cough. "It'sthese damned cigarettes," he explained. "I smoke 'em all the timeand I've a permanent smoker's cough."
She said: "Am I supposed to be interested?"
He grinned at her.
"I forgot—you wouldn't be, of course," he said. "Andabout being insolent, I've found it's not a bad thing. It gets areaction sometimes. People are more inclined to tell the truthwhen they're in a bad temper. Besides which I like looking at youwhen you're in a temper. It suits you."
She said sarcastically: "You're fearfully clever, aren't you?Quite a psychologist. I suppose you know everything there is tobe known..."
"I wouldn't say that," said Callaghan. "I just know a little.But I knowone thing."
He exhaled cigarette smoke slowly.
"To-morrow," he went on, "your father and you and I are goingto have a show-down. I'm going to tell you one or two things thatmight be good for you to hear. Or perhaps you'd rather I had theconversation withyou?"
Her expression altered. She said quickly:
"I've told you that my father is a sick man. Naturally, I'd doanything to save him trouble..."
"Rubbish," said Callaghan amiably. "What you really mean isyou're afraid of a show-down. I suppose you've made a fool out ofthe old boy and you think I might have guessed how you've doneit."
She caught her breath. It was almost a gasp of rage. She saidin a low voice:
"There are moments when I think I could quite easilykill you. I think you are easily the most loathable personI've ever met..."
Callaghan said: "Well, that's something. I never mind what awoman feels so long as she's notquite disinterested."
She turned quickly and began to walk up the stairs. Callaghanwatched her. Every movement spoke of the rage that possessedher.
Somewhere down the passage a telephone bell jangled. After amoment Stevens appeared. He said:
"Mr. Nikolls is on the telephone, sir. He wants to speak toyou."
Callaghan walked down the passage to the alcove where thetelephone stood. He took up the receiver. Stevensdisappeared.
Nikolls said: "Slim, have a good laugh. Esme dropped me atKingsbridge. I thoughtyou could push a car along but thatbaby's drivin' is an eye-opener. I'm surprised I'm still in onepiece."
Callaghan said: "Well... ?"
"She dropped me and went off on the Totnes Road," Nikollscontinued. "I got the car out of the garage and went after her. Ihad an idea that maybe she was goin' to that Yard Arm dump I toldyou about. Well, the hunch was right. She's there now. So'sClarissa. Their cars are both parked behind the place."
Callaghan asked: "Is it still open?"
Nikolls said: "No. But here's the funny thing. I stuck aroundoutside behind a hedge. When the place closed down Esme andClarissa went out the back with a guy. They walked across alittle orchard an' went into some other place—a fairlylarge sorta cottage at the back. I stuck around for a bit to seeif they'd come out, but they didn't. So I tried something. I wentup to the back door and knocked. Some guy opened the door, notthe guy who the girls had gone in with. I asked him for somewater for the car. When he went to get it he switched the lighton an' I nearly had a fit. Who d'you think the baby was?"
Callaghan said: "What am I supposed to do—have threeguesses?"
"Sorry," said Nikolls. "Well, you remember that boyo who wasdoorman on that dive of Ventura's, the Backstairs Club, inSoho—Ropey Felliner? Well, it was him. Was Isurprised?"
"I bet you were," said Callaghan. "Did he recognise you?"
"He did not," answered Nikolls. "I kept away back in thedark."
"Where are you speaking from?" Callaghan asked.
"I'm in an A.A. box away down the road," Nikolls replied."About half a mile from the Yard Arm."
Callaghan said: "I'm coming along. I think it's time somethinghappened. If it doesn't, we'll make it. I'll be with you as soonas I can."
"O.K.," said Nikolls. "I'll just stick around an' look at themoon. I'm feelin' poetic to-night, anyway."
Callaghan hung up. He went up to his room and got an overcoat.He rang the bell, came downstairs and met Stevens in thehall.
He said: "Stevens, I may be a little late to-night. Have you aspare key?"
"Yes, sir," said the butler. "I'll go and get it."
Callaghan walked up and down the hall waiting for Stevens tocome back. He looked contented. He was intrigued by Nikoll's newsthat Ropey Felliner was at the cottage behind the Yard Arm. Hewondered why.
Stevens came back with the key. As he gave it to Callaghan hesaid:
"I hope things are going all right, sir, and I hope I'm nottoo curious, but have you got any idea yet, sir? We are naturallyvery interested."
Callaghan grinned.
"I've practically got the criminal, Stevens," he said. "Ithink I know who stole the Vendayne jewellery."
The butler's eyes widened.
"My God, Mr. Callaghan, he said. "Who was it, sir?"
"Santa Claus," said Callaghan, as he went out.
THE moon was full. The road in front of the Jaguar was like agrey ribbon. Nikolls came out of the darkness of the hedge andstood in the midde of the road. He got on the running board ofthe car. He said:
"I got the bus parked in a field three or four hundred yardsdown the road on the right. The gate's open. How about youparkin' in there, too?"
Callaghan let in the clutch. He drove down the road, throughthe open gate. He parked the car beside Nikolls's. He said:
"Where's this cottage, Windy?"
"About sixty or seventy yards down the road," Nikollsanswered. "On the left is the Yard Arm. There's a sign outside.Just past it is a pathway leading through an orchard. The cottageis on the other side."
Callaghan said: "All right. You'd better look at the moon somemore."
He began to walk down the road.
He passed the Yard Arm, found the little pathway runningbehind it, began to walk across the orchard. He was thinking itwas a lovely night and wondering about Felliner. Just in front ofhim, almost hidden by the trees, was the cottage. It was a largetwo-storied affair formed, evidently, of two or three cottagesknocked into one. The little lawn and the white palings thatsurrounded it were well kept, and the windows carefully blacked-out. Callaghan pushed open the gate, walked up the short path andknocked on the door. He stood there, looking at the glowing endof his cigarette. After a minute the door opened.
Callaghan, looking past the man who stood in the doorway,could see that the hall of the cottage was luxuriously carpeted,well-furnished. Then he looked at the man. He was about thirty-five years of age; had very sleek black wavy hair, a facethat was almost too good-looking, a decided jaw. He was tanned.Callaghan's eyes, straying from the man's face to the side of thecottage doorway, noticed the plate that bore the name of theplace. On it was the word:"MALMESBURY."
He said: "My name's Callaghan. I'm staying at Margraud Manor.I understand that Clarissa and Esme Vendayne are here."
The man said: "Yes?"
He raised his eyebrows. The tone of his voice was halfinquiring, half insolent. Callaghan went on:
"I don't think the Major's very well," he said, lying easily."Miss Vendayne's a little bit perturbed about him. She thinks thegirls ought to go home."
The other said: "How did you know they were here?"
Callaghan said: "That's my business."
The man in the doorway shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, if you want to be rude..." he said.
"I don't want to be rude," said Callaghan, "but why shouldn'tanybody know where they were. Or is it a secret?"
The man stood back. Callaghan noticed he was fairly tall andmuscular, that he moved easily.
He said: "There isn't any secrecy. Perhaps I sounded a littleshort. Come in. My name's Blaize."
"I'm glad to meet you," said Callaghan.
He stepped into the hallway. Blaize closed the door behindhim. Esme came out of the door on the other side of the hall. Sheturned her head and spoke into the room behind her.
"My God," she said. "It's Mr. Callaghan. I'mthrilled.He's a fast worker, isn't he?" She said to Callaghan: "Don't tellme you couldn't wait till to-morrow to question me."
Clarissa came out from the room. She stood behind Esme. Esmemurmured:
"Well, three's a party—sometimes. But I rather thinkthat four's a crowd."
Callaghan said: "I think so too." He went on: "Miss Vendayneasked me to come over and say that she was worried about theMajor. She thinks maybe he's going to have one of his attacks.She thought you might like to go back."
Esme's face became serious.
"Oh, dear," she said, "Come on, Clarissa, we'd better go.Good-night, Willie."
She walked straight past Blaize, out of the cottage. Closebehind her came Clarissa. She stopped as she reached Callaghan.She said:
"I think you two should know each other. William dear, this isMr. Callaghan, a veritable prince of private detectives. Mr.Callaghan, this is Mr. Blaize—Mr. William Blaize. I thinkhe's rather a sweet, don't I, William?"
Blaize grinned.
"In case you should want to know why I think he's a sweet,"Clarissa went on, "it's mainly because Esme's stuck on him, andas my only amusement in these parts is trying to pinch Esme'syoung men, there, Mr. Callaghan, you have a logical and deductivereason as to why I think William's sweet. He's awfully relievedthat we've got to go. I know he's got an appointmentsomewhere."
Blaize said with a grin: "I've been wanting to go to Exeterfor the last hour, but I'm always a little gentleman." He grinnedruefully. "It'll be about three before I get there."
"Poor William," said Clarissa. "It's just too bad! Good-night,Sweet William. 'Bye, Mr. Callaghan."
She went out.
Callaghan stood looking at Blaize. After a minute he said:"It's nice work if you can get it."
Blaize said: "Exactly what do you mean by that?"
Callaghan said: "I don't know. You probably do. Good-night."
He went out of the doorway and began to walk across theorchard. From somewhere in the vicinity he could hear the soundof Clarissa's and Esme's cars starting. He walked back on to themain road. He waited until he saw the tail lights of the girls'cars disappear. Then he walked down the road through the gatewayinto the field.
Nikolls was sitting in the driving seat of the hired car,smoking, looking at the moon, his hands behind his head.
"Didn't take long to break that party up, Slim," he said. "Howdid you do it?"
Callaghan said: "I told 'em the old man was going to have oneof his attacks. They decided they'd go home. You'd better goback. Put your car in the garage at Margraud—I left thedoor open."
Nikolls said: "O.K. You're not comin'?"
Callaghan said: "No, I'm going to have a little talk withFelliner."
Nikolls raised his eyebrows.
"What about the other guy?" he asked.
Callaghan said: "There's a rumour he's going to Exeter. I'llwait for a bit and see."
Nikolls said. "I get it. You're gonna use the old system?"
Callaghan grinned.
"Why not, Windy?" he said.
Callaghan got into the Jaguar and sat there smoking. He waslistening for the sound of a car. He was wondering about Blaize.He waited ten minutes—then he got out of the car, threw hiscigarette end into the damp grass, walked out into the road,keeping in the shadow of the hedge. He began to walk towards theYard Arm. When he had gone thirty yards down the road, a long lowcar shot out from the drive on the right of the Yard Arm buildingand turned left.
Callaghan walked through the orchard. He walked round the sideof the cottage. At the back, beside a white painted water-butt,was a door. Callaghan rapped. After a minute he heard some soundsfrom inside, then the noise of a bolt being pulled. The dooropened.
Callaghan said: "Good-evening, Ropey."
Someone from inside the doorway said: "What the hell...Callaghan... !"
"That's right," said Callaghan. "Come outside, Ropey. I wantto talk to you."
Felliner came into the doorway. He was very big. His shoulderswere wide. He looked like a boxer. His great hands hung down byhis sides relaxed, like a gorilla's. He said:
"Supposin' I don't want to talk toyou. What the helldo you want? What's going on round here? You're the second guythat's knocked me up to-night."
Callaghan said: "I know. The first one was Nikolls. You didn'trecognize him. Your eyes aren't so good as they used to be, arethey?"
Felliner said: "Cut it out. What is it you want?"
Callaghan lit a cigarette. He said:
"I want to know what you're doing down here."
Felliner said with a faint grin: "And supposin' I tell you tomind your own damn business?"
Callaghan took the cigarette from his mouth with his left handcasually. Almost simultaneously he moved forward on to the ballof his left foot. His right fist caught Felliner fairly in themouth. The big man went over backwards. Callaghan stepped intothe doorway. As Felliner got to his knees, Callaghan put out hisleft hand and put his fingers inside Felliner's collar. He helpedhim to his feet. When he was almost there, Callaghan hit himagain.
Felliner went down with a crash. A beam of moonlight camethrough the doorway. On the other side of the room Callaghancould see an electric light switch. He went across, switched onthe light. Felliner had got to his feet. His shoulders werehunched like a bull's. His mouth was bleeding. He stood lookingat Callaghan.
He said: "I've always wanted to paste you, Callaghan, and now,by God, I'm goin' to do it!"
Callaghan grinned. He said:
"Well, there's no law against trying, Ropey. I hope you're inbetter condition than you were when you were working for Gabby,throwing half-cut sissies out of the Backstairs Club..."
Felliner said something under his breath. He moved quicklyforward.
Callaghan put his hand on the back of a kitchen chair thatstood underneath the switch. He spun the chair suddenly towardsFelliner. It hit him fairly across the shins.
Felliner swore viciously. He jumped in at Callaghan with anagility that was surprising and swung a left hook. Callaghancaught the punch with his right hand, put out his left hand andcaught Ropey's right wrist. His fingers seemed to be restingeasily on the pulse.
Felliner began to howl. Callaghan brought over his right handand took hold of the other's fingers. He exerted a littlepressure. Felliner screamed. His forehead was covered withsweat.
Callaghan said: "I'll always back,judo against old-fashioned slugging tactics, Ropey. This is one of thesweetest Japanese hand-holds I know. If you try and move anywayat all you break at least two of your fingers. Would you like totry?"
He released his hold and put his hands in his pockets. Ropeywent over to the other side of the room and sat down. He wasnursing his wrist, massaging the fingers.
"The trouble with you, Ropey, is that slugging has always beenyour best bet and you think it always does the job. If you're aswise as I think you are, you'll cut out any ideas of rough stuffand begin to think. You're in a bad jam, Ropey."
Felliner said: "I don't know what the 'ell you're talkin'about. You're barking up the wrong tree, I'm tellin' you."
Callaghan picked up the fallen chair. He sat down on it. Hewas thinking quickly... considering the best line of bluff touse. He said:
"Ropey, you know damn well I always know what I'm doing."
Felliner growled: "I don't know what you're talkin' about.It's lucky for you that Blaize isn't 'ere. If he was there'd besome trouble. He'd 'ave you pinched maybe."
Callaghan grinned.
He said: "I wouldn't be too sure of that, Ropey. And since youseem to have become so unintelligent, perhaps you'd like tolisten towhy I think you're in a bad jam. Three monthsago some jewellery was stolen from the Vendayne Manor House, see?Well, I don't think it looks too good for you—with yourrecord—being around."
Callaghan took out his cigarette-case, selected a cigarette.He went on: "The police must have overlooked you when they werechecking up."
Felliner grinned. There was a look of relief in his eyes. Hesaid:
"I get it. So you're trying to tie me up with that steal, areyou? Well, you can't do it. I wasn't anywhere near 'ere when thatstuff was pinched. I've only been 'ere three days, an' how do youlike that, Mr. bleeding know-all?"
"I don't mind it," said Callaghan. "It doesn't prove anythingone way or the other. All right, Ropey, if you're so certain ofyourself I'll have a word on the telephone with Walperton, theScotland Yard man who's handling this job. I think he might liketo have a little talk to you... that is, of course, if you don'tlike talking to me."
Felliner said: "I'm not looking for trouble, and I've gotnothing to be afraid of either, but I don't want to have anytruck with coppers. I don't like 'em, you know that."
"All right, Ropey," said Callaghan. "Well, let you and me befriends, shall we? Maybe that way nobody'll get hurt, at leastnot any more than theyhave."
Callaghan got up. He walked round the kitchen table and sat onthe edge of it, looking down at Felliner.
He said: "You know, Ropey, you're not the sort of man who getshimself a job in the heart of Devonshire as a caretaker or aservant or whatever you are just because he likes fresh air.That's sense, isn't it? What are you doing down here?"
Felliner said nothing. Callaghan went on:
"For the last six or seven years you've been working forGabby. You've worked in every club he's had. If there's been anydirty work afoot you've been in it—well in it.There's a lot of funny business going on round here and the factthat you're here shows me that Gabby's interested. The best thingyou can do is to talk."
Felliner said: "Well, all right. What's it matter anyway? Icame down 'ere and I took this job because Gabby told me to."
"I see," said Callaghan. "So Gabby knew the job wasgoing?"
" 'E didn't," said Felliner. "There was an advertisement in apaper. The boss saw it. He told me to answer it."
Callaghan nodded.
"And what were you supposed to do?"
"Stick around an' keep my eye on Blaize," said Felliner."Gabby thought he was goin' off somewhere sort of sudden. Hewanted to know where 'e was goin'. 'E wanted to know anythin' Icould find out."
Callaghan got up. He said:
"You take a tip from me, Ropey, keep your nose clean. I've gotan idea there's going to be a little trouble flying about inthese parts. If I were you I'd keep out of it."
"You're telling me?" said Felliner. "I reckon I've had all thetrouble I'm going to have. I'm getting out."
"No, you're not," said Callaghan pleasantly. "You're going tostay put just where you are, and another thing you needn't botherto let Gabby know I've seen you. Let's keep this littleconversation a secret as between friends, shall we?"
He walked over to the door. He stood for a moment looking outat the moonlit orchard. Then he turned and said:
"Ropey, you remember that fellow who was rolled a year ago atthe Backstairs Club—the one they found out in the alleyway?Well, I don't believe that case is marked 'closed' yet. Thepolice still want to know who it was threw him out of the window.Maybe you'd like me to tell 'em?"
Felliner said hoarsely: "You're a bastard, that's what youare. If you can't get a thing one way you get it another."
Callaghan grinned.
"That's right, Ropey. We get there somehow and who the hellcares how. Keep your nose clean, and behave, and you're allright. But if you get up against me I'll stick you inside overthat Backstairs job, and you know Imean it.
"Good-night, Ropey."
CALLAGHAN sat behind the wheel of the Jaguar. He sat there fora long time looking across the fields. Eventually he drew on hisgloves, lit a cigarette, let in the clutch.
He drove slowly back to Margraud enjoying the night air.Nikolls was waiting outside the garage.
"I reckon you're a thought reader or something, Slim," hesaid. "I thought I'd be the first to give you the good news."
Callaghan raised his eyebrows.
"What's happened?" he said.
"Well, it's damned funny," said Nikolls. "You go out to thatYard Arm place an' tell those girls a phoney story about the oldman havin' a seizure, an' when they get back here they find it'sright. He has."
"Well... ?" said Callaghan.
"They took him away," Nikolls replied. "The ambulance got hereabout half an hour ago. They took him to Exeter. I reckon he'spretty bad, too."
Callaghan said: "I wonder."
Nikolls said: "How do you mean? Do you think it's screwy,too?"
"Why not?" said Callaghan. "Maybe little Audrey wanted theMajor out of the way for a bit. Maybe she thinks it'll be easierif he's not around."
Nikolls said: "So you think she's going to do something?"
Callaghan began to walk towards the house.
"She'sgot to do something," he said.
NIKOLLS reclined in a wicker chair set backbehind a little table in Grantley's Café in Kingsbridge HighStreet. He finished his coffee and pondered heavily. He orderedmore coffee with a large portion of Devonshire cream, looked athis wristwatch, observed the morning sun illuminating the newbread and cakes in the window, considered critically the hip-lines of the two young women behind the counter.
It was ten minutes past eleven. Nikolls fished about in hispocket for a Lucky Strike, found one, put it in his mouth, rereadthe note from Callaghan:
Try and get a minute with Clarissa afterbreakfast. Make a date with her to meet you at the café inKingsbridge at half-past eleven. Get there first and wait forher. When she turns up work the old stuff on her. If she seemsinterested, mention Slapton Sands casually when I arrive. Play itup like hell—I think she'll fall for the line.
S.C.
Nikolls produced his lighter and lit the corner of the note.He held it up in his plump fingers and watched it burn. He lithis cigarette from the last corner and put the ashes carefullyinto the ash tray.
He wondered if Callaghan was right about Clarissa. He realisedthat Callaghanwas right about women more often than not.On the other hand, Clarissa was a smart package, ruminatedNikolls. She had brains in her head. All the Vendayne women hadbrains. The fact just stuck out and hit you when you looked atthem. Nikolls, who reduced most problems to terms of betting,thought that it was about six to four on Callaghan. Clarissa camein.
Nikolls eyed her critically as she walked towards his table.He thought: "A hell of a dame, she knows how to walk an' her hipsare just right, an' what she don't know about clothes could bestuck up your nose and it wouldn't even make you sneeze."
Clarissa was wearing a sage green tweed coat and skirt over amatching jersey that was tied at the neck with a yellow cord.Pulled well on to one side of her carefully dressed auburn-darkhead was a sage green Robin Hood hat with a yellow ribbon tomatch the neck cord. Her shoes were polished calf-skin. Herstockings beige silk. Her small hands were encased in sleekpigskin driving gauntlets.
She said sweetly as Nikolls got to his feet:
"Hallo, Windy... I'm going to call you Windy because I heardMr. Callaghan do it. And why are you called Windy... Windy?"
Nikolls grinned amiably. He said:
"My name's Windemere... It's a helluva name but I couldn't doa thing to stop it. My old man usta live around there before hewent to the States."
She said: "You'renot an American, Windy?"
"American...hell," replied Nikolls. "I'm a Canadian. Iwas born there an' so was my ma. I've spent a lot of time in theStates though. I usta work for a Detective Agency there untilsome guy shot Monty Kells who usta be Slim's assistant. Then hecabled for me an' I came over here."
Clarissa said: "Why is he called 'Slim'?"
Nikolls grinned at her.
"Because that's just what he is... as slim as they make 'em.He'd slide through or round or under anythin'. There's only onething that ever gets him beat—" Nikolls produced anair of ponderous gravity—"an' that's what I'm afraid ofnow..."
She said: "I want some coffee, please." She began to take offher gloves. "Do tell me, Windy," she murmured angelically,"just what it is you're afraid of."
Nikolls looked out of the window. His face expressed concernand a suggestion of doubt. Nikolls was a very good actor—afact that few people realised until it was too late.
He looked at her. It was a long searching look. Then he saidvery seriously:
"Clarissa, I'm very fond of Slim. I'd do anythin' for thatguy. To me he's just the biggest guy in the world... an' I justdon't wanta see him get hurt."
Clarissa's big eyes widened. She leaned across the table,folded her hands together. She said:
"But this isexciting. I'mthrilled. Tell me...please... Who's going to hurt Mr. Callaghan?"
Nikolls drew in a deep breath of tobacco smoke. He drew itright down into his lungs and allowed it to trickle out of onecorner of his mouth. He said quietly:
"You might..."
"My God," said Clarissa. "How marvelous! Why might I?"
Nikolls stubbed out his cigarette. He stubbed it out with anair of finality. The air of a man who has made up his mind. Hesaid very quietly, his eyes on hers:
"Clarissa... I wanna tell you somethin'. An' if you ever leton I'm gonna cut your pretty throat from ear to ear. Slim's nuttyabout you, see? Ever since he set eyes on you last night he'sgone crackers over you. And getthis; women fall for thatguy like ninepins an' he usually just don't take any notice. He'sjust like an ice-box where women are concerned. So any time hedoes give a dame a tumble she's entitled to fly flags an' giveherself a twenty-one gun salute."
He shrugged his shoulders sadly.
"Maybe I ought not to have said anything," he went on. "ButI'm sorta worried. You see, when he told me he was chuckin' thecase this mornin'..."
Clarissa interrupted: "Why is he giving up the case?" sheasked.
Nikolls said: "He says it's because he can't get a line onanythin'. But I don't believe it. I believe it'syou. Iwatched him lookin' at you last night, after he got back from theYard Arm—when you were pourin' tea for us all an' Iknew."
He stopped suddenly and regarded the cakes in the window. Hewas watching Clarissa out of the corner of his eye. He noted withsatisfaction that her eyes were soft.
"He mustn't give up the case, Windy," she said. "Hejust mustn't. And you needn't worry aboutme. Icouldn't do anything to hurt him. I just couldn't. I'm not likethat. Besides... I think he's terribly sweet. Directly I saw himI thought he wasfearfully sweet. He's got that look inhis eyes, that faraway look... you know, Windy?"
Nikolls said softly: "I know..."
He was thinking: "By heck... Slim was right again. She'sfallen for it."
He put his hand over hers as it lay on the table. He saidgravely:
"Clarissa, I trust you... remember... If you take Slim for aride I'm gonna personally cut your throat... that is if he don'tdo it first..."
Clarissa's right hand went to her throat. She smiled happily.Nikolls, looking at her, thought: "Hell... she looks as if she'dlike to have her throat cut..."
She said: "This is all too marvellous. Windy, I'll do anythingto help. Justanything..."
Nikolls looked out of the window. Outside, Callaghan wasgetting out of the Jaguar. Nikolls said:
"Here he is. We better pretend we met by accident." WhenCallaghan came in, he went on:
"This is funny, Slim. Miss Vendayne just arrived for somecoffee. Maybe you'd like to talk to her. I want to take a look atSlapton Sands. They tell me there's some marvellous pike fishin'there." He looked quickly at Callaghan. One eyelid quiveredalmost imperceptibly. He went on: "They tell me that the fishthere just go for everything... hook, line an' sinker."
He got up.
"I'll be seein' you," he said.
He gave Clarissa a long look and went out.
Callaghan ordered some coffee. He was wearing a grey flannelsuit, a fawn silk shirt and a brown tie. Clarissa found herselflooking at his mouth, thinking that it was a very mobilemouth.
She said: "Slim... I'm going to call you Slim, and you'regoing to call me Clarissa... I want you to know that I'd love todo anything I can do to help you. Directly I saw you I felt Iwanted to do anything I could... You understand?"
Callaghan looked at her. His expression was soulful. Hisfeatures arranged themselves in an expression of almost hopelesspassion. He said softly:
"Clarissa... you're wonderful. Directly I saw you I knew thatyou weredifferent—yes, that's theword—different. Somehow I felt you'd help me. Ofcourse, it's going to be difficult, but..."
She said: "Nothing's difficult unless one makes it so."
He smiled at her. It had taken him several years hard work toperfect that smile. He put his hand over hers. He murmured:"Let's talk, Clarissa."
CALLAGHAN sat on a green-painted garden seat on the edge ofthe lawn that bounded the bottom of the lower terrace. Fiftyyards away on the other side of the flower-garden Nikolls, in amulti-coloured sweater—practised putts on the miniaturegolf green. Over his shoulder Callaghan could see Esme, sittingon the covered balcony that ran past the French windows of thedining-room, reading a book. He thought she was having a littledifficulty in concentrating.
He lit a cigarette, got up and strolled down the tiled pathwaybetween the lawns. He stood at the bottom looking out over thegreen fields toward the sea.
Audrey Vendayne came out of the side door of the house. Shewalked swiftly down the steps that led between the terraces,along the pathway. Callaghan turned and walked to meet her.
She was wearing a fawn-coloured woolen suit. She wasbareheaded. He noticed that the afternoon sun brought out theauburn tints in her hair.
She said abruptly: "As much as I dislike doing it I have toapologise to you. I received the three hundred pounds youregistered to me from Newton Abbott, by the after-lunch post. Isuppose you've been waiting to see, if Iwouldapologise."
Callaghan grinned. "More or less," he said. "But I wasn'tworrying about it."
She went on: "I suppose it was part of your techniquenot to tell me that you'd returned the money, when we weretalking last night. I imagine it gave you a feeling ofsuperiority."
"It did, rather," said Callaghan.
He stamped out his cigarette, kicked the butt to the edge ofthe path.
"How's the Major?" he asked. "Have you had any news?"
She nodded.
"He's better," she said. "He is to have complete rest andquiet. I'm glad he's not here."
His grin was cynical.
"That seems to indicate that you don't think it's going to beeither quiet or restful here."
She said: "Candidly, I'm certain of nothing while you arehere, Mr. Callaghan. In a way I'm glad my father had that attack.At least he will not be worried."
He looked at her. He noticed that her eyes were very blue andvery steady.
"I imagine you'll return the three hundred to our friendGabby," he queried. "I bet he'll be glad to see it come backagain. He'll probably wonder what's been happening to it. Thatthree hundred has been playing ring of roses like a playfulboomerang."
"Gabby—as you call him—isn't my friend," she saidcoldly. "If I decide to return the money I shall return it to theperson who lent it to me. In any event I don't see what it has todo with you."
"You will," said Callaghan.
She was about to say something but she checked herself. Sheturned on her heel and walked back towards the house.
Callaghan lit a cigarette and walked across the lawn toNikolls who was concentrating on a six-foot putt.
He stood watching. Nikolls tapped the ball neatly. It trickledslowly across the velvet green into the hole. Nikoll's sighed. Hesaid:
"I'm marvellous at this game any time I ain't really playingit. As I said before, it's a nice life!"
Callaghan said: "Listen, Windy. I'm going up to town. I may bea day or two: I don't know yet. But you don't have to let anybodyhere know where I'm going. You might even suggest that I've goneover to talk to the police at Plymouth."
"O.K.," said Nikolls. "How was Clarissa?"
He grinned at Callaghan, who grinned back.
"Clarissa was pretty good," said Callaghan.
"Yeah," said Nikolls. "It's marvellous how the idea that a guyis in love with a dame will make the doll talk."
Callaghan stood looking towards the sea. He said:
"I think Clarissa's scared. I think she's afraid that thebusiness that happened between Esme and the fisherman at Beesandsis going to be repeated with Blaize. Esme seems stuck on Blaize,but not in the usual light-hearted way that she adopts towardsmost of her boy friends. Clarissa thinks this time it might bereally serious."
"I get you," said Nikolls. "So Clarissa plays around an' makesout that she's tryin' to queer Esme's pitch and pinch her boyfriend, when all the time she's trying to keep her eye on thosetwo just to stop things comin' to a head."
"It looks like that to me," said Callaghan. He went on: "WhileI'm away you might try and pull one on Esme. Use exactly theopposite tactics to those you used on Clarissa. Give Esme theidea that you don't like me very much. Try and get herconfidence. Maybe she'll do a little talking."
"Who knows?" said Nikolls. "I'll try it anyway. When are yougoin', Slim?"
"In about ten minutes," said Callaghan. "I'll just take thecar out of the garage and disappear. I shan't take any clothes.If Audrey wants to know when I'll be back, say you don't know,but I'll be back."
Nikolls stooped down and picked the ball out of the hole. Hethrew it six or seven feet from him.
He said: "Audrey'll be pleased to know you're comin'back."
He walked to the ball and putted. This time it stopped threeinches off the hole. He kicked it in.
He said: "I thought she looked a bit high-hat when she wastalking to you just now. She ain't very pleased with you, Slim.It must be that three hundred."
Callaghan said: "Not exactly. I registered the money back toher at Newton Abbott. She got it this afternoon."
Nikolls raised his eyebrows.
"What was the idea in that, Slim?" he asked.
Callaghan said: "That money came originally from GabbyVentura. I told her he'd be pleased if she sent it back to him.She said she'd return it to the person she borrowed it from. Thatsounds a bit odd, doesn't it, Windy?"
"Yeah," said Windy. "But I don't see it."
Callaghan said: "I didn't but I'm beginning to."
He walked away. He walked back to the path that led up to thehouse between the terraces. At the top he turned to the left pastthe balcony where Esme was sitting. Her eyes were concentrated onthe page in front of her.
Callaghan said: "It's a lovely day, isn't it?"
She closed the book, marking her place with her finger. Shelooked pale and unhappy. There were circles under her eyes.Callaghan thought Esme was worrying about something.
She said: "The weather is so good down here, Mr. Callaghan,that we seldom take very much notice of it. We're used to finedays."
She smiled at him, one corner of her mouth twistedcynically.
Callaghan said: "Yes, it would be like that. Of course, inLondon you never know what the weather's going to be like."
He stood, his arm resting on the rail of the balcony, lookingat her.
She said: "We're having an interesting conversation about theweather, aren't we? Or is this a prelude to something else?"
"I don't think so," said Callaghan. "I thought I'd like totalk to you, that's all I wanted to ask you something."
Esme took her finger out of the book and put it on the seatbeside her. She said:
"Ask on! Aren't you sorry you haven't got a lie detector orwhatever they call it fixed on my arm?"
Callaghan said: "I don't believe in lie detectors. They like'em in America, but I don't. I think you can always tell."
"I expectyou would be able to in any event, Mr.Callaghan," said Esme. "But I'm curious. Won't you ask yourquestion?"
Callaghan said: "I wanted to know how you liked Malmesbury.It's a nice place isn't it?"
Esme opened her mouth to say something. Then she closedit.
She said: "I don't know... I wasn't fearfully interested init. I wasn't in the Cape very long."
Callaghan was grinning. She went on:
"And may I ask what amuses you so much about it?"
Callaghan said: "I think you're clever. It was on the tip ofyour tongue to tell me you'd never heard of Malmesbury. I'm gladyou didn't do that. I shouldn't have believed you."
He smiled at her and walked on towards the side of the Manor.Esme picked up her book, but she did not open it.
She sat looking over the terraces wondering aboutCallaghan.
CALLAGHAN went into the garage and tested the air pressure inthe tires on the Jaguar. He went back to the main door of theManor House. Inside the hall he rang the bell. When Stevensappeared he said:
"Where's Miss Clarissa, Stevens?"
The butler said: "I think she's in her room, Mr. Callaghan. Ibelieve she's lying down."
Callaghan said: "I'm going round to the garage in a fewminutes. I'd be obliged if you'd tell her I'd like to have a fewwords with her there."
He went up stairs for his hat and gloves. He was sitting inthe car waiting when Clarissa appeared.
She said: "Well, Slim, where are you going to?"
"I'm not quite certain," Callaghan answered. "I think I wantto go to Plymouth to talk to the police there. Maybe I'll go onsomewhere else afterwards."
Clarissa said hopefully: "Do you want me to come too?"
"No," said Callaghan. "I'd like you to come." He smiled ather. "But I don't think it's indicated. And I want you to dosomething for me here. Do you ever do anything that's dishonest,Clarissa?"
"Good God, yes," she answered. "I suppose everybody does,don't they?"
He nodded.
"I suppose they do," he said. "But I mean really dishonest,such as grabbing letters out of other people's mail, openingletters—steaming 'em open—listening to telephonecalls... things like that."
Clarissa said: "Well, I haven't gone in for that sort of stuffmuch, but I dare say I could if I tried. By the way, whose postis it that has to be watched?"
Her eyes rested steadily on Callaghan's.
He said: "Listen, Clarissa. What I'm talking to you about nowhas nothing to do with this case. It's just a little thing on theside!"
Her eyes widened.
"You don't mean there's something else happening here?" sheasked.
Callaghan began to lie. He said:
"I don't like that fellow Blaize, Clarissa. I can't quiteplace him, but I've got an idea that I remember his name inconnection with something that wasn't quite so good. Ever since Ihad that talk with you this morning about Esme being stuck onhim, I've been doing some serious thinking. I know you don't likehim, and I don't."
Clarissa said: "What are you afraid of, Slim? Do youthink..."
Callaghan said: "I don't think anything, but I don't likeBlaize and I think Esme is much too nice a girl, even if she is abit wild, to get mixed up with a fellow like that. My idea was,"said Callaghan, "that you might keep your eye on the post if youcan, and if a note or letter comes from Blaize you might have alook at it."
Clarissa said: "That wouldn't be difficult. The post is alwaysleft on the tray on the hall table. Everybody collects their own,and Esme's always last down. Besides," she added, "I could get upa little bit earlier—for you."
Callaghan said: "You're a sweet."
"What do I do? Steam open the letters and take a copy? And howshall I know if it's one from Blaize? Sometimes Esme has quite alarge post," Clarissa went on. "Imagine me surrounded withletters, steaming them open upstairs in my room."
"I shouldn't worry about that," said Callaghan. "All you haveto do is to look at the postmark. The only letters you want tobother about are ones that are posted in the county. Anotherthing, you needn't steam 'em open."
He put his hand into his breast pocket and produced a leathercase. He opened it. Inside were three slim steel instrumentsrather like darning needles. He took one out, handed it over theside of the car to Clarissa.
"These are nice little things," said Callaghan. "Scotland Yardand the Postal Censors use 'em. Most people don't stick down thetop edges of the envelope flap. All you have to do is to pushthis through the opening at the top, straight along the top ofthe envelope, turn it round until the top of the letter insideworks itself through the slit."
He took a pound note from his note case and demonstrated.
"When you've got the top of the letter in the slit you startturning," said Callaghan. "Then the letter twists round the rodand you pull it out through the side of the flap. You do thatvery carefully. When you've read it you can put it back the sameway—you merely reverse the process."
Clarissa sighed.
"You think of everything, don't you, Slim?" she said.
"I try to," he said. "Tell me something, Clarissa," he wenton. "What sort of allowances do you girls have—much orlittle?"
"Not too bad," said Clarissa airly. "We have enough to getalong on. One can always do with more, of course."
Callaghan nodded.
"And I suppose you're all pretty well broke most of the time?"he queried. "Every woman overspends her allowance."
"I wouldn't say that," said Clarissa. "I don't, and Audreydoesn't. Esme's the one who's always broke. How that girl does itI don't know. She's always up to her neck in debt. But why didyou ask?"
Callaghan said: "I was just wondering."
He took her hand and squeezed it.
"So long, Clarissa," he said. "Don't forget you're working forCallaghan Investigations."
She smiled.
"I won't," she said. "Perhaps when you come back you'll giveme a medal... or something?"
He smiled at her and let in the clutch. He backed the carslowly out of the garage, turned it, drove down the drive.
She stood watching it until it was out of sight.
IT was nine o'clock, Callaghan unlocked the doorof his apartment in Berkeley Square, entered the flat, threw hishat and overcoat over a chair and helped himself to four fingersof rye whiskey from the sideboard.
He went into the bedroom, undressed, ran the bath, got in whenit was half full. Then he turned on the cold tap and let it run.He lay at full length in the bath, his feet resting on the brushboard, looking at the ceiling. He was thinking about AudreyVendayne.
When the bath was almost filled with tepid water, Callaghanturned off the cold tap. He reached out for his cigarette-casewhich lay on the stool beside the bath, took a cigarette, lit itand relaxed.
He thought that the Vendayne case was beginning to resolveitself into a series of questions. He liked questions, not somuch because finding the answers was amusing, but because in theprocess of trying to find the answers a case was oftensolved.
Callaghan, whose practice it was to regard investigationspurely from the point of view of the people concerned in them,thought that the Vendayne burglary presented a most interestingpicture. He was no armchair detective, possessed of a uniquebrain, a needle point mentality able to discover and assembleinfinitesimal points called "clues" obvious to noone—including the reader—but the armchair detectivehimself.
A case, to Callaghan, was merely a collection of people, someof whom—or all of whom—were giving incorrectinformation, or telling lies, because circumstances either forcedthem or led them into the process.
But the fact that theyhad to tell lies,had togive false impressions, necessitated a reorientation of their ownviewpoints and their own lives. Sooner or later they becameexhausted or careless. Then, and not until then, was aninvestigator able to put his finger on the one fact that wouldlead him to a possible, logical solution.
Callaghan thought that Audrey Vendayne was an excellentexample of this process. In spite of the opinion that Nikolls hadformed of the lady, Callaghan himself was not so certain. Audreyradiated a certain atmosphere—an aura of apparent honestyand essential frankness. Also she was inclined to be proud. Itwas a bad egg to all the tea in China that the things that shehad done which, according to his working-out, were not normalactions on her part, were the result of circumstances which madeit imperative for her to behave in that way.
As for instance the borrowing of the three hundred pounds andher attitude to him at Margraud. Neither of these things werecharacteristic of her and they were, therefore, all the moreinteresting.
He was concerned to find the reasons.
He considered it was his business to continue to create othersituations—a verbal or practical—in which people inthe case would enmesh themselves. And any situation was betterthan none at all. Such was the Callaghan system.
It was this system which had been responsible for the mottowhich Chief Detective-Inspector Gringall had originated forCallaghan Investigations—"We get there somehow and who thehell cares how!"
The system could possibly be criticised as unmoral, to whichcriticism Callaghan, if asked, would have probably replied that,as most interesting things in life—especiallycrime—were unmoral, it was an obvious truism that theremedy must, of necessity, be more violent than the disease.
He began to think in terms of blackmail. Life, he ruminated,consisted of fifty per cent of the world trying toblackmail—in some way or other—the other fifty percent. The hair-line between "moral persuasion" and honest togoodness blackmail was very often ahair-line.
He switched his mind to the three girls in the Margraud Manor.He thought that Audrey could be a worthwhile opponent in anybattle of wits. Clarissa was not quite so clever. If anything shewas the most innocuous of the three. Callaghan found himselfconcentrating on Esme. One of the things that intrigued him wasthe question of Esme's allowance. Esme was always broke; yet asfar as he could see she did nothing that the other two did notdo. Here was an interesting question. He wondered if he hadalready found the answer.
The second question was that of the three hundred pounds.Callaghan remembered what Audrey had said when he had suggestedthat she might like to return it to Gabby Ventura. He wondered ifshe were speaking the truth. Supposing she were. This presentedanother, quite interesting, angle of thought. He thought possiblyhe might have an idea about that, too.
He got out of the bath, began to dry himself. During theprocess and when he was finished and sitting on the bathroomstool rubbingeau-de Cologne into his hair, he was stillthinking about the other questions. Why was Gabby interested inBlaize? Who and what was Blaize? Why were his movements of suchimportance to Gabby that Ropey Felliner—one time custodianof the alleyway entrance to the Backstairs Club—was sentpost-haste down to Devonshire in order to keep an eye on Blaize'smovements?
Callaghan thought that this technique was not of the typeusually employed by Gabby. Gabby was a tough egg. He either hadsomething on you or he had not. If he had dealt with thesituation personally. The fact that he was having Blaize watchedby Felliner indicated to Callaghan that Gabby knew little aboutBlaize. He wondered if he evenknew Blaize.
He went back to the bedroom, began to dress. During theprocess he considered another angle of the case—the angleof the mortgage on Margraud. He wondered if Nikolls's theory wascorrect. Callaghan thought there was something funny about thatmortgage. First of all, it was entirely unlike an individual ofthe characteristics of Major Vendayne to utilise the services ofa strange firm of lawyers over an important matter like amortgage on Margraud. Yet he had done so. But the moreinteresting part of this question was how had the mortgage beenpaid off. Where did the money come from? If, as Nikolls hadsuggested, the scheme was Audrey's, and Audrey had hoped tosatisfy the mortgage by the money paid by the Insurance Companyunder the claim, she had been disappointed. There had been nomoney. Yet the mortgagehad been paid.
Callaghan's mind came back to Esme. When he had last seen hersitting on the balcony at Margraud, he had tried a shot in thedark about Malmesbury. The shot had come off. There at least itseemed he had something tangible.
He tied his tie carefully, went into the sitting-room. He lita cigarette, moved over to the window and stood looking out intothe dusk. He stood there for some minutes, his hands in hispockets. Then he turned and went to the telephone. He dialled aClerkenwell number. After a minute he said:
"Is that you, Blooey? Listen carefully: There's a good-lookingyoung fellow by the name of Lancelot Vendayne. He lives atGrant's Hotel in Clarges Street. He's supposed to have lots ofmoney. Anyhow," he went on, "he's much too good-looking not tohave a girl friend. You might get around and find out who she is.And I'd like to know if possible by tomorrow evening. If you comeup against anything else in the process, let me know. You gotthat?"
Blooey said he had got it. Callaghan hung up. He lit anothercigarette, drank a little more whisky.
CALLAGHAN went out. He walked slowly across Berkeley Square.He found himself thinking about the characters that made up the"picture" of the Vendayne case. Major Vendayne, Audrey andClarissa and Esme. These people, with the possible exception ofAudrey, were fairly obvious, he thought. Audrey was not obvious.She was not obvious, because one knew nothing of the motives thatactuated her own particular line of thought or conduct. Only onething about her was obvious and that was that she was damnedattractive.
Callaghan thought that of the Vendayne women she was easilythe winner so far as the sex-appeal stakes were concerned. Thefact that her attitude towards life was quieter than that of hersisters meant nothing. Quiet women were invariably dangerous.Callaghan, who liked his women quiet and dangerous—but nottoo dangerous—considered that the progress of theinvestigation might produce some fireworks from Audrey. It wouldhave to produce fireworks of one sort or another.
Then there was Gabby Ventura, Lancelot Vendayne, and WilliamBlaize. Just how these three people came into the pictures was aquestion which Callaghan could not, at that moment, attempt toanswer. Whether there was an actual connection, an actualcontact, as regards the case between Gabby and Audrey, Gabby andLancelot, Gabby and Blaize, was an unknown quantity. Audrey'sremark—if it had been truth—about returning the threehundred pounds had unsettled his original conviction about adefinite connection between her and Gabby.
Callaghan allowed his mind to dwell on Gabby's career as heknew it. He had no respect for Ventura, merely a grudgingadmiration. Gabby had a quick brain and a flair for "keeping hisnose clean." During the last ten years he had been associatedwith some of the toughest night haunts in London. Not those near-nice places around the West End which are considereddangerous in war time, but the really tough places—the onesyou seldom hear about. Gabby had made money out of these hauntsand he had never taken the knock. They had been raided, closeddown; there had been prosecutions galore, but it was alwayssomeone else that the "blue inks" pulled in—never Gabby.Callaghan thought that if Ventura had cared to use his brains insome legitimate line of finance he might have been one of thosepeople whose pictures one sees periodically in the evening papersand who are called kings of industry. But even if Gabby was not aking of industry he was certainly a small time emperor ofunderworld finance. Callaghan was intrigued with any connection,no matter how vague, between Gabby and the other people in theVendayne picture. Gabby presented himself—for a reasonwhich Callaghan could not quite make out—as the centrepoint of the situation—a rather vague situation.
But he proposed to make the situation clear and to do thatquickly. It was time, he thought, that something happened, and ifit would not happen of itself then it must be made to happen.
At the corner of Hay Hill he stopped to light a cigarette.Then he went into the phone box and looked up the number ofGrant's Hotel in Clarges Street. He dialled the number, asked forMr. Lancelot Vendayne. After a moment Vendayne came on the line.Callaghan said:
"Good-evening. This is Callaghan. I've just got back fromDevonshire. Your uncle's had one of his periodical heart attacks.They've taken him to the Nursing Home in Exeter. I want to seeyou. Is that possible?"
"Of course," said Lancelot cheerfully. "Has anything happened?I'm dying with curiosity."
"Nothing's happened," said Callaghan. "What about meeting meat the Ventura Club at half-past ten?"
"I'd like to," said Vendayne. "Anyway, even if you've nothingto tell me, we can have a drink."
Callaghan said: "I haven't anything to tell you, but there'reone or two things I want to ask you. I'll see you at ten-thirty."
He hung up. As he came out of the phone box he wassmiling.
LANCELOT VENDAYNE was leaning up against the bar in theVentura Club talking to the plump blonde. There were few peoplein the club and only half a dozen couples were dancing, and fewmore people finishing late dinners or early suppers. Ventura wasnowhere in sight. Callaghan walked over to the bar. He said:
"Let's take our drinks and sit down at a table. I want to talkto you."
Vendayne, who was drinking whisky and soda, ordered anotherone. He picked up the glasses and followed Callaghan, who was onhis way to a lone table in the corner. When they were seatedCallaghan said:
"There's one rule that we always stick to in CallaghanInvestigations. We never delude our clients—well not much,and only then if we think it's good for them. As you are ineffect my client, I think you ought to know that I don't likethis Vendayne burglary business at all."
Lancelot said: "Why not?" He was frowning.
"There's nothing about it that looks like a burglary ought tolook," said Callaghan. "Just because the police don't pull insomebody over every job that's done that fact doesn't mean thatthey don't know who it is. It usually means that they justhaven't got any evidence. But in this case nobody knows anythingabout anything—including me."
Lancelot raised his eyebrows. He said:
"I thought the idea was thatyou were the person whowas going to find things out."
"Oh, no, you didn't," said Callaghan. "You know why you put mein on this job and it wasn't for that reason at all. You put mein as an additional lever to force the Insurance Company to payup. You probably knew that old Layne had threatened them with anaction if they didn't pay up by the end of the month. I was to bea sort of gesture of good faith."
Lancelot said: "Well, do you think they will pay by the end ofthe month?"
Callaghan said: "I don't know, but if an opinion's any use toyou I think it's very doubtful. The second thing is, I don'tthink I'd worry the Insurance Company. I'd leave 'em alone for abit."
Vendayne shrugged his shoulders.
"Either they're going to pay or they're not," he said. "Ifthey're not, I want to know why."
Callaghan grinned.
"That's all right," he said. "Your wanting to know why, Imean. But you realise you haven't anyright to know why.You have no interest in the Vendayne jewellery until your uncleis dead, and he's not dead yet."
"That's perfectly true," said Vendayne. "I haven't any legalright to do anything at the moment. But what is all this leadingup to? I suppose I've a legal right to employ you to watch myinterests."
"That's the point I was coming to," said Callaghan. "I want toalter my status in this job. I don't want to feel I'm acting as alever on the Insurance Company. I just want to play around andfind out one or two things that interest me."
Vendayne shrugged his shoulders.
"That's all right," he said. "I suppose it will come to thesame thing in the end."
Callaghan smiled.
"I should think it might," he said. "And there's something Iwant to discuss with you. It's this—"
He stopped speaking suddenly as if an idea had just come tohim. After a pause he said:
"You might tell me something. It's rather a personal question.Were you ever stuck on any of the Vendayne girls, or shall wenarrow that down a bit? Were you ever stuck on Audrey?"
Vendayne smiled. He said:
"Well, that's not a bad guess, Callaghan. How did youknow?"
Callaghan said: "I didn't know, I just guessed. I couldimagine anybody being stuck on Audrey."
Lancelot said: "I was. For quite a little time there was anidea that she and I might become engaged. Then for some reason orother she didn't like the idea, so we weren't. That's all."
Callaghan nodded. He said:
"Did you know that your uncle had mortgaged the Manor House ona mortgage payable in one year at 6½% for £20,000, in order toget the place repaired?"
Vendayne said: "How did you know that? Did the old boy orAudrey tell you?"
"No," said Callaghan. He smiled amiably. "You know we don'tsit down on our bottoms all the time and just do nothing,Vendayne," he said. "We get around sometimes. An assistant ofmine found the deed and the satisfaction recorded on it in theRegistry in Exeter."
Lancelot said: "Well, I knew all about it. As a matter offact, I thought it was a good idea at the time."
Callaghan nodded.
"And you weren't curious," he went on, "about where the Majorwas going to get the money to pay off that mortgage with?"
"Oh, yes," said Lancelot. He paused for a moment. "My unclewas in a deal—a share deal," he went on, "and he wasperfectly certain that this thing was going to come off and makehim three or four hundred per cent profit. The idea was that hewould pay the mortgage off on the proceeds of that. He had quitea bit of his capital in this deal."
"I see," said Callaghan. "And the deal didn't come off?"
"I believe not," Lancelot answered.
Callaghan drew his cigarette smoke down into his lungs andexhaled through one nostril. He said, looking at Lancelot.
"And you haven't got any ideas as to how that mortgage waspaid off?"
"Not one in the world," said the other. "Until you told me Ididn't know it was paid off. I thought naturally that my uncle orAudrey had got it extended. After all a year for a mortgage is avery short term. My uncle's well known in the county and theproperty is fairly valuable. The mortgagees would have been gladto extend the time."
"Maybe," said Callaghan. "But the fact remains that theyweren't asked to extend. The mortgage was paid off in full. Youwouldn't know where the money came from?"
Lancelot said: "I would not." He smiled at Callaghan. "Andpurely from a point of view of curiosity I would very much liketo know."
Callaghan grinned.
"So would I," he said.
He got up.
"I suppose I can always find you at Grant's Hotel?" heasked.
"Most of the time," said Lancelot. "Anyway, they can alwayslet you know where I can be got at. Won't you stay and haveanother drink?"
"No thanks," said Callaghan. "I've got one or two things todo. By the way," he went on, "what do you think of Gabby? Are youand he friendly?"
Lancelot made a wry face.
"Just about as much as a man like me could ever be friendlywith the proprietor of a place like this," he said with awhimsical smile. "I come here quite a bit because it's cheerfuland amusing. I used to think that Gabby wasn't a bad sort, butnow, between you and me and the gate-post, I don't like him verymuch. I think he's a bit crooked."
Callaghan grinned.
"You don't say?" he said airily. "It's taken you a hell of atime to find that out, hasn't it?"
Lancelot's smile faded. He looked at the table. He said:
"I don't see why you should say that. I don't see why I shouldbe particularly interested in whether Ventura is crooked or not.His character doesn't concern me. I merely use this place as abar and to amuse myself. Incidentally," he went on, "I didn'tlike the way you said that."
"No?" said Callaghan cheerfully. "Well... what am I supposedto do—burst into tears?"
Lancelot said nothing.
Callaghan went out.
IT was eleven o'clock when Callaghan, having negotiated theblack-out between Shepherd Market and Soho, walked into theBackstairs Club.
If the Backstairs Club was a little different to the others itwas merely in the fact that practically every one who used theBackstairs smokedmarihuana. The purchase and sale of thenoxious weed—together with the "by-products"thereof—and when one considers the effect of a couple ofmarihuana cigarettes on some women one realises that thereare "by-products"—constituted its main business.
The club premises consisted of a long room with a very lowceiling and an appalling odour. The room was approached through apassage which was guarded at the far end by a cubby hole in whichthe watch-dog of the moment sat and scrutinised would-beusers.
The odour which was most prevalent at the far end—wherethe stink of cheap scent and stalemarihuana smoke wasjoined by that of oil from the infinitesimalkitchen—presided over by a buck nigger—which stoodjust off one corner of the room—was entirely lost on thewhite-faced young gentleman who, seated at an ancient piano, fromthe keyboard of which at least a dozen ivories were missing,played a hot number called:"I don't know what it is you'vegot but I want it," and pondered, possibly, on the days whenhe used to wash at least once a day and shave, at any rate,sometimes.
There were a dozen people seated at the little tables setround the room. They were the sort of people you expected to findin the Backstairs Club. They had no memories, no hope and nomorals. They were not interested in peace or war or any statebetween those two conditions, because most of them had neverknown peace, and most of them were continuously at war withsomething or somebody—the police, their friends, orthemselves.
When Callaghan passed through the room they looked over theirshoulders with the sudden furtive glance characteristic of peoplewho are never quite certain as to what is going to happen fromone minute to another.
Callaghan looked round the room. Sitting by himself at a tableat the top was Kittel. Kittel was a tall, thin individual whopurported to be an artist. He had a long white face, a bad temperand an addiction to barbituric drugs.
Callaghan walked over to the table. He sat down.
Kittel said suspiciously: "What do you want, Callaghan?"
"Just to talk to you for a minute or two, Jimmy," saidCallaghan cheerfully. "And I think I'd like to buy you a drink.You don't look so well. I suppose the war's cut off most of yoursupplies."
Kittel said: "You mind your own damned business."
Callaghan signalled the bleary-eyed waiter in the dirty apronwho was leaning against the kitchen door.
He said: "What you need, Kittel, is a double brandy."
Kittel looked relieved. When the drinks were brought Callaghansaid:
"I wonder you come down here. If you had a pound for everytime you'd been chucked out of here you'd be a rich man."
The dope grinned cynically.
"I shall never be that," he said. "Although I thought at onetime there was a chance of it. I hate this damned place," he wenton. "But life's like that. You hate a place, but you go there.You don't want to do a thing, but you do it."
"Quite," said Callaghan. He grinned. "True happiness wouldappear to consist in not doing all the things we want to do," hesaid.
He put his hand into the breast pocket of his coat and broughtout a note case. He took out five one pound notes. They were newnotes. They rustled. Callaghan could see Kittel eyeing themgreedily. He said:
"Have you got any use for a fiver, Jimmy?"
Kittel said: "There are times when I think I'd murder someonefor five pounds."
Callaghan said: "It's not as bad as that." He looked at hiswatch. It was half-past eleven. He said:
"I want you to start something around here at half-pasttwelve. Just hit the waiter or start throwing glasses at thedoorman, enough to create a little sensation without the policebeing called in. Understand, Jimmy?"
Kittel asked wearily: "Is thatall I've got to do forfive pounds?"
"That's all," said Callaghan.
Kittel said: "Give me the fiver."
Callaghan handed over a pound note.
"Where are you living now, Jimmy?" he asked.
Kittel looked at the pound note.
"I'm living at the same place," he answered.
"All right," said Callaghan. "I'll send you round the otherfour pounds to-morrow when the job's done."
Kittel looked at him. Callaghan noticed that the pupils of hiseyes were mere pin-points. Kittel said:
"You're a disbelieving swine, aren't you?"
"You bet," said Callaghan. "Don't forget... at half-pasttwelve."
"All right," said Kittel. "You needn't worry. I need the otherfour pounds."
Callaghan finished his drink and went out.
IT was nearly twelve when Callaghan took his feet off hisoffice desk, stubbed out his cigarette in the ash tray and rangthe Ventura Club. He asked for Gabby Ventura.
"He's not down here, Mr. Callaghan," said the voice at theother end of the telephone. "He's upstairs in his own rooms.Perhaps you'd like to get through to him direct. I'll give youthe number."
Callaghan said: "Thanks."
He wrote down the number and hung up. After a moment hedialled the number he had been given. Ventura's voiceanswered.
"Hallo, Gabby," said Callaghan cheerfully. "I want to talk toyou. Itmight be important."
"All right, Slim," said Gabby. "Would you like to come roundand have a drink?"
Callaghan said: "I'll be with you at twelve o'clock. I'd liketo talk to you upstairs. Just you and me."
There was a pause. Then Ventura said:
"You'd better come to the back door. Ring the bell and I'llcome down and let you in. Then we shan't be disturbed."
"That'll be fine," said Callaghan. "I'll be with you in aquarter of an hour."
He lit a cigarette and blew smoke rings for a minute or two.Then he dialled Effie Thompson's number. When she answered hesaid:
"Hallo, Effie. Are you in bed?"
"Yes, Mr. Callaghan, I am," she said. "Can I dosomething?"
"You can," Callaghan answered, "and you needn't even get up todo it. Just stay awake for a bit. At half-past twelve exactlyring through to Mayfair 995469—that's Gabby Ventura'sprivate number in his flat over the club. He'll answer thetelephone. Put on a false voice—a rather commonvoice—tell him you're Lilly Dells, that you're speakingfrom the call box near the Backstairs Club. Tell him that JimmyKittel's been hitting the dope again and that he's creatingmurder at the Backstairs. Lay it on thick. Say Kittel's sluggedthe waiter and knocked out the doorman. And you needn't beparticular about your language. Let yourself go a bit. Directlyyou've said your piece, hang up. Have you got that, Effie?"
"I've got it," said Effie caustically. "You're sure that's allyou want done? You don't want me to give an imitation of GretaGarbo as well?"
"No thanks," said Callaghan. "Not to-night."
He hung up.
He waited a moment, then rang the Berkeley Square cab rank. Hesaid:
"Is Fairley on the rank? He is. Tell him to come round to theoffice and pick me up."
He hung up the telephone, went over to a filing cabinet in thecorner of the office, opened it and took out a small bunch of"spider" keys. He put them in his pocket. Then he went downstairsand waited for the cab. When it arrived he handed the driver apound note.
"Listen, Fairley," he said. "Take me round to the back door ofthe Ventura Club in Shepherd Market. Then go back to the rank.Wait there until twelve twenty-five and then drive back to theVentura back entrance. I want you to be waiting for me outsidethe door at twelve thirty-five. See?"
Fairley said he saw.
Callaghan got into the cab. He lay back in the corner andrelaxed. He began to smile.
He was still thinking about Audrey Vendayne.
GABBY, at the sideboard, mixed two largewhiskies and sodas. He was wearing a blue-grey Glen check suitwith a white silk tie. A large diamond pin twinkled in the centreof it. He looked contented, almost cheerful.
Callaghan, sitting in the big armchair on the other side ofthe table, watched Gabby's precise movements as he handled bottleand syphon. He moved quickly and easily in spite of his bulk andhe had a good jaw even if it was concealed by a jowl. Callaghanthought that Gabby could be tough if necessity arose—verytough. He would stick at nothing to attain a desired end. Itwould be interesting to know, thought the detective, just what"end" Gabby wanted.
Ventura came back to the table with the glasses. He sat downand produced a cigar. He said smilingly:
"I'm getting curious about what you wanted to see me over,Slim. Something important, hey?"
Callaghan said: "Not very, Gabby. Just important to me.Besides which, I've been thinking..."
He took out his cigarette-case and lit a cigarette. Venturaregarded the glowing end of his expensive cigar. He said nothing.He waited.
Callaghan went on: "I was thinking I was a bit short with youthe other day when you came round to my office and asked me aboutthat £300."
He grinned.
"I thought you were a bit short, too, Slim," said Gabby."Naturally I didn't believe that stuff you told me."
Callaghan drew the cigarette smoke down into his lungs.
"You know that I'm investigating the Vendayne burglary," hesaid. "I'm doing the job because Lancelot Vendayne wanted itinvestigated. The night before you came to see me, his cousin,Audrey Vendayne, made a date to meet me at this club. She waitedfor me outside. She gave me £300 to keep out of the case. Iconcluded she'd borrowed it from you. That's why I was glad totake a hand in that poker game and let you see the banknotesshe'd given me. Now I've come to the conclusion that I waswrong."
Ventura knocked the ash from the end of his cigar. He saidsoftly:
"You don't say, Slim."
Callaghan grinned at him.
"I've got another theory now," he said. "Supposing I made aguess. Supposing I suggested that Lancelot Vendayne lent Audreythat £300 afterhe had borrowed it from you. Would I bevery far wrong?"
Gabby said: "You wouldn't be wrong at all. You'd be deadright. I lent Vendayne that £300. I didn't know what for. He toldme a hard luck story—that he was in a jam—so I lethim have it."
"That was nice of you, Gabby," said Callaghan. "I didn't knowyou were so kind-hearted. What did you do it for?"
Ventura shrugged his massive shoulders. He smiled wryly atCallaghan. He said:
"I'm not quite certain. I get like that sometimes."
Callaghan said: "When was he going to pay you back?"
"I wasn't worrying about that," Gabby answered. "I expect himto pay it back pretty soon. He said he would."
Callaghan said: "Gabby, you told me Lancelot Vendayne wasrather a clever fellow. You told me he was making money. If hewas making money, what did he have to borrow £300 from youfor?"
Gabby said: "That don't signify, Slim. Anybody can be makingmoney and be short of a few hundred ready, especially when theywant it in a hurry."
Callaghan nodded.
"Would you call Lancelot a pal of yours, Gabby?" he asked.
Gabby grinned.
"I wouldn't exactly call him that," he said. "He's all rightand he's a good customer. Sometimes I think he's a bit of abastard."
Callaghan said: "I see."
He glanced at his wrist-watch. It was just after twelve-thirty. The telephone on the desk in the corner jangled.Gabby went over. He took off the receiver. Callaghan could hear ahigh-pitched almost hysterical voice coming through thetelephone—a metallic, common voice. He grinned. He thoughtthat Effie was doing pretty well. Ventura began to talk into thetransmitter. He said:
"All right... all right." He hung up suddenly. He said toCallaghan: "Sorry, Slim, but I got to get away from here. I'vejust had a call—some rush business. Why don't you godownstairs and have a drink? I'll be back in half an hour."
"No thanks, Gabby," said Callaghan. "I've said all I wanted tosay and I've got a date myself. If you're in a hurry you'd bettertake my cab. I've got one waiting outside. I can getanother."
Ventura said: "That's nice of you, Slim."
He led the way down the dark staircase, opened the back door.Outside, Callaghan's cab driver, Fairley, was standing beside hiscab. Callaghan said:
"Take this gentleman wherever he wants to go to. I think I'llwalk. Good-night, Gabby."
Gabby said good-night. He got into the cab.
Callaghan walked a few yards down the dark side street, thenhe turned back. He put his hand in his pocket and brought out thebunch of "spider" keys. In two minutes he had the back door ofthe Ventura Club open. He closed it behind him, went swiftly andsilently up the stairs. He switched on the light in Gabby's room.On the other side of the room was another door leading down tothe club. There was a bolt on the inside. Callaghan shot it home.Then he began a systematic search of the room.
He went round opening drawers, taking out the contents, goingthrough them, replacing them in the same order. He workedrapidly, thoroughly. The roll-top desk in the corner on which thetelephone stood was open. Callaghan turned his attention to that.One drawer in the bottom right-hand pedestal was locked. Heopened it easily with a "spider." There were a bundle of papersin the drawer. On the top of them was an envelope addressed toGabby Ventura in a sprawling handwriting. Callaghan picked it up.The stamp bore the Kingsbridge postmark. He opened the envelope,drew out the sheet of notepaper inside. He read:
Dear Guvner,
There's some proper bleedin trubble poppin downhere. The boys been on the telephon to-day. He was shoutin hishead orf, talkin a lot of stuff about some deal being phoney. Andhe's gettin ready to get out. He's been packin all day. Sent onetrunk to Exeter orlreddy. I think he's goin' abroad. I couldn'tget all he said on the telephon but I herd him say there was gointo be a showdown pretty soon and that he was goin to keep theparty he was talkin to tied up properly. He said the whole bag oftricks was as phoney as hell. Whatever the showdown is goin to beits goin to be pretty soon because I don't think he'll be herefor more than a couple of days. Let me know what you want done.You better let me know quick.
Well, so long,
Ropey.
P.S. That bastard Callaghan is kickin aroundhere.
Callaghan sat in the armchair that stood before the desk. Hecopied the letter on the back of a tailor's bill. Then he put itback in the envelope, replaced the envelope in the drawer, shutit and relocked it. He drew the bolt on the door leading to theclub, looked round the room to see that everything was as he hadfound it, went down the stairs. Outside he began to walk in thedirection of Berkeley Square. He was whistling softly tohimself.
CALLAGHAN woke up at eleven o'clock. He reached out for thebedside telephone that connected his flat with the office below.He said:
"Good-morning, Effie. You did very well last night. I didn'tknow you were such a good actress. Congratulations."
Effie Thompson said primly: "Thank you, Mr. Callaghan. I liketo be a help."
Callaghan went on: "Get through to Layne—the Vendaynesolicitor, Effie. Tell him I'm coming round to see him. I'll bethere at twelve. When you've done that, get through to Detective-Inspector Walperton at Scotland Yard. Ask him if it would be convenient to see me at a quarter to one."
He hung up, bathed and began to dress. Five minutes afterwardsEffie Thompson rang through to say the two appointments were inorder.
Callaghan finished dressing, took the lift down to theoffices, read his mail, drank a cup of tea that Effie brought tohim. Then he went around to Layne's office.
WHEN the detective was shown in, Layne looked at himsuspiciously over the top of hispince-nez. Callaghansaid:
"I don't want to waste a lot of your time, Mr. Layne, but Iwant to have a straight talk with you. I suppose that anythingthat's said in this office can be considered to be 'off therecord'?"
The lawyer said: "Rather a strange request, is it not, Mr.Callaghan? May I ask why?"
Callaghan said: "There ought not to be anything 'off therecord' between you and me; at the same time there are one or twoangles on this business that you don't know. For instance, am Iright in supposing that youdidn't know that your client,Major Vendayne, mortgaged the Margraud Manor for £20,000 at 6½%for one year, and that the mortgage has been paid off?"
Layne's eyebrows went up. "You amaze me," he said. "Icertainly did not know."
"I thought as much," said Callaghan. "I thought so because themortgage was put through by a firm of Exeter lawyers." He wenton: "I believe you've written to the Sphere & Internationaland told them that unless this claim is settled by the end of themonth, you're going to issue a writ."
The lawyer nodded.
"That is correct," he said.
Callaghan lit a cigarette.
"I want you to do something," he said. "Something that ismaybe a little bit odd. You won't like it. It's going behind yourclient's back."
Layne said: "I don't think I could do that."
"Oh, yes, you could," said Callaghan. "If it were in yourclient's interests you could do it."
The lawyer pursed his lips.
"Possibly," he said, "But I should have toknow that itwas in my client's interests."
"All right," said Callaghan. "Well, look at the facts. Whenthis jewellery was stolen, I believe I'm right in saying thatyour client wasn't in a fearful hurry for the claim to be put into the Insurance Company. The person who was responsible forgetting after the Sphere & International—tryin' to get'em to pay—wasn't the Major, it was Lancelot Vendayne. Youcan understand that too; he was worrying about whether he wasgoing to get what was coming to him when the Major dies. But thepoint is thathe was the person who's been trying to bringpressure to bear on the Sphere & International."
Layne said: "That is correct, but I still don't see—"
"You will," said Callaghan. "Listen. When I went down toMargraud, Audrey Vendayne told me she'd had a word with herfather and they had an idea of writing to the Insurance Companyand postponing the claim."
Layne looked surprised.
"Really," he said.
"Well, I stopped that," said Callaghan. "Obviously, it wouldhave been a ridiculous thing to do. First of all, it is stickingout a foot that the Insurance Company are already suspicious andany request to them merely to postpone the claim would make themmore suspicious."
"Quite," said Layne. "Unless there were some good reason forthe postponement."
"Exactly," said Callaghan. "We've got to find a reason. Thepoint is," he went on, "the Insurance Company have delayed payingthis claim because they smell a rat, and we don't have to do alot of thinking to know what that rat is. The only time when anInsurance Company don't pay is when they believe that a claim isphoney. They believe this claim is phoney, and they're not theonly ones—I think so, too."
The lawyer said nothing. He looked very grave.
Callaghan went on: "It would be a bit difficult for theVendayne family—or one or more members of it—if theInsurance Company were to pay this claim and then discoverafterwards that there'd been funny business. Somebody might findthemselves stuck in gaol."
"I see," said Layne. He put the tips of his fingers togetherand looked out of the window. "And your idea is?" he queried.
Callaghan blew a smoke ring. He watched it sail across theoffice.
"My idea is this," he said. "You write to the InsuranceCompany to-day. You tell 'em that Callaghan Investigations, whowere put in on this job to find out what has happened, think theyhave got a line on where that jewellery is; that, in thecircumstances, pending a further report from Mr. Callaghan, MajorVendayne wishes towithdraw the claim, as that is theobvious thing to do."
The lawyer nodded.
"I see..." he said.
"It's not particularly clever, it's common sense," saidCallaghan. "If we really thought we had an idea where thatjewellery is, the obvious thing would be for us to withdraw theclaim. Doing it that way doesn't look suspicious."
Layne said: "I think I ought to have a word with my clientabout this."
"You can't," said Callaghan. "He's had a heart attack. He's ina nursing home at Exeter. They won't let him talk to anybody.Anyway," he went on, "you'll be well advised to do what Isuggest."
"Shall I?" said the lawyer. "Why?"
"Because if you don't," said Callaghan, "I'm going down to theInsurance Company to tell 'em the same story myself. I feel it isnecessary that that claim is stalled for a bit anyway."
Layne said: "Mr. Callaghan, I suppose you realise what you aresuggesting? Your attitude suggests that the original claim madeagainst the Insurance Company was a fake claim and that either myclient or some member or members of his family knew that fact.That is a very serious suggestion."
"You're telling me," said Callaghan. "And I'm notsuggesting anything. I'm telling you. The only way out ofthe job is my way. You've got to do it whether you like it ornot. If you don't, I'll do it for you."
"I don't like your attitude but I think you're right," saidthe solicitor. "In the circumstances, and as I can't get intotouch with the Major immediately, I'll do as you suggest, but I'mvery worried about this."
Callaghan exhaled smoke slowly.
"What's worrying you?" he asked.
"You're practically suggesting that some member of theVendayne family is concerned in that burglary, Mr. Callaghan,"said Layne. "And the fact that you've told me that it was MissVendayne who told you that she had talked to the Major aboutwithdrawing the claim seems to indicate that she was the person.I find it very difficult to believe."
"I expect you do," said Callaghan. "And as for suggesting thatsome member of the Vendayne family had something to do with thissteal, you're entitled to think what you like."
He got up, picked up his hat.
"I'll take it you'll get that letter off to-day," he said. "IfI were you I'd write it now and send it round by hand."
Layne said: "I think I will do that, Mr. Callaghan."
Callaghan smiled.
"Nice work, Mr. Layne," he said.
He went out.
CALLAGHAN sat in the waiting-room at Scotland Yard thinkingabout Detective-Inspector Walperton. It was obvious, he thought,that Walperton was going to be a little difficult, and thebusiness of putting him in the waiting-room for a quarter of anhour or so, to cool his heels, was merely part of theprocess.
He lit a cigarette and began to consider the letter he hadfound in Gabby's roll-top desk. A very interesting document,thought Callaghan. And not only interesting butpractical—about the only practical thing, the onlyfact that had showed up in the Vendayne case up to themoment.
And Callaghan liked a fact. A fact was a good thing to startworking from, and the Ropey Felliner letter was, as he saw it, anextremely illuminating document.
He took the copy of the letter out of his pocket and studiedit. He put it back as the door opened and a detective-constableput his head in to say that Mr. Walperton was ready now and wouldMr. Callaghan come along.
Callaghan followed the policeman. His face was composed into apicture of beatific innocence. The detective-constable held thedoor open and Callaghan went in.
Walperton was sitting behind his desk, with the window behindhim. The desk was a large one. At the left hand end of it, withhis note-book already open and his pencil almost poised, wasDetective-Sergeant Gridley, whose reputation for writingshorthand almost more quickly than the English language could bespoken had preceded him so far as Callaghan was concerned.
Walperton was thirty-eight years of age, keen-eyed, round-faced, a thruster. He had heard quite a lot about Callaghanand Callaghan Investigations. He had wondered why it was thatGringall and one or two other of the senior men at the Yardtalked about Callaghan with a certain respect. Walperton had norespect for Callaghan. He did not like private detectives. Hethought that there was no place in the English legal system forprivate investigation and he was prepared heartily to dislike anyprivate detective from the word go.
He said: "Good-morning, Callaghan. I understand you've gotsomething to say to me. Before you say it I'd like to make my ownposition quite clear. In doing so I shall make yours cleartoo."
Callaghan said nothing. He went over to the wall, picked up achair that stood there, brought it back, placed it squarely infront of the Detective-Inspector's desk. He sat down, crossed hislegs and drew cigarette smoke down into his lungs with obviouspleasure.
He said: "That's what I like to hear. I think there's nothinglike having a position made clear. So you get ahead and make itclear, Walperton, and don't waste any time in doing it becauseI'm very busy." Walperton raised his eyebrows just a little.Gridley, his eyes on his note-book, began to grin.
"All right," said Walperton. "Well, the position is brieflythis so far asI'm concerned: I understood from ChiefDetective-Inspector Gringall that the Vendayne solicitors hadretained you in this case. Well, that's all right. It meansyou're working for the family..."
Callaghan interrupted.
"I'm retained by the Insurance Company too," he said. "So I'mworking for them as well. It also looks as if I'm working foryou."
"I see," said Walperton. "So you're working for the Sphere& International as well. That surprises me a little. Hasn'tit struck you that the interests of the two parties mightclash?"
"I don't know," said Callaghan. "But I'd like to. Just howcould they clash? The Vendayne family want to know where theirjewellery is. The Insurance Company want to knowtoo—otherwise they've got to fork out one hundred thousandpounds. So do you.You want to know as well—becausethat's what you get paid for."
Walperton flushed a little. He said:
"I presume you didn't come here to tell me what I get paidfor. I imagine you came here to give me some information."
"You're quite wrong," said Callaghan. His smile was angelic."I don't intend to do your job for you, Walperton, because Idon't get paid for doing your job and I didn't come here to helpyou do it, which is what you hoped I was going to do."
He blew a large smoke ring.
Gridley said: "Do I make a note of this?"
He looked at Walperton.
Callaghan said: "You ought to know better than that, Gridley.Of course, you don't make a note of it. You can't make a note ofpart of what I say, unless you make a note of the wholelot. That's sense, isn't it? It's not only sense, it's policeregulations—even Mr. Walperton knows that."
Walperton got up. He went over to the window and turned facingCallaghan. He said angrily:
"I know all about you, Callaghan. You've got medals forteaching police officers their business. Well, I'd like to tellyou something, and I've already mentioned it to Mr. Gringall. I'dbetter tell you here and now. It's this: If I have any reason tobelieve that you are deliberately obstructing me or any otherofficer in the execution of his duty, I'll..."
"... Apply for a warrant," said Callaghan. "Also under the oldAct, you can apply for one if you have reason to believe that Iam 'mischievously giving wrongful or false information to anofficer.' But you can't use either of those things unless I'mmaking a statement. So let's fix just what Iam doing,shall we?"
He sent a thin stream of tobacco smoke out of one nostril. Hewent on:
"I'm either just talkin' to you, Walperton—just a littleheart-to-heart talk—without any notes being taken of what Isay—or else I'm definitely making a statement, in whichcase we'll get busy on it and we'll take note ofeverything I say and when they're made I want 'emtranscribed right away so that I can see they are what I said,and I'll sign the statement. Well... what are we going todo?"
Walperton turned and looked out of the window. He was cursinghimself for a fool. He realised that, up to the moment, he hadplayed into Callaghan's hands by losing his temper. After amoment he turned away from the window, went back to his desk. Hesaid:
"All right, Callaghan, have it your way. This is a heart-to-heart talk."
He produced an icy smile.
Callaghan grinned amiably. That expression of supremefrankness and candour which came over his face when he intendedto lie brazenly, appeared in all its glory. He looked almostwinsome.
"That's fine, Walperton," he said. "Now... you can believe itor not, but I came here to give you a hand. I know you've hadvery tough luck with this case. I know you've had nothing at allto work on. Well, I think I've got something for you. It's notmuch, but it's something..."
Walperton, in spite of himself, began to look interested. Hesaid:
"Well, I'll be glad ofany information, Callaghan." Hepaused for a moment, then: "You're going to tell me that this wasan inside job?" he queried.
"No," said Callaghan, "I'm not. In spite of the fact that theInsurance Company probably thinks that there's been some funnybusinessI don't think that it was an inside job."
He stubbed out his cigarette. He was thinking that he wouldhave to have a reallygood story for Walperton. He beganto think it out while he was lighting a fresh cigarette.
When that process was finished he said:
"I thought at first that the case was a bit fishy. Ithought—just as you and any other sensible person wouldthink—that everything pointed to someone inside MargraudManor being concerned in that steal. I thought so until I raninto Ropey Felliner."
Walperton said: "Who the hell's Ropey Felliner?"
"He used to work for Gabby Ventura. You ought to send down forhis record. It's a sweet one. He was doorman at the BackstairsClub for a long time," said Callaghan. "Well, Felliner took a jobat a cottage not twenty miles from Margraud. He's working for afellow called Blaize. I've got my own ideas about Blaize. I thinkthat this Blaize is a very smart piece of work and I think thathe could have told you quite a bit about the Vendayne steal."
"Could have?" queried the police officer. "Why 'couldhave'?"
"Because I don't think you'll pick him up now," saidCallaghan. "If you get after that bird—which I think youought to do—you'll find he's flown."
Walperton made a note on his blotter. "Where do I find thisBlaize, Callaghan?" he asked.
He sounded much more friendly.
"You find him at a place called the Yard Arm—a roadhouse between Totnes and Plymouth," Callaghan answered. "He livesin a cottage at the back of the Yard Arm—rather a niceplace—with Ropey Felliner as a servant. I should think thatif you got a man down there the day after to-morrow—I thinkhe'll be there then—you might get Ropey. I don't thinkyou'll get Blaize. I've had the place watched and it looked as ifhe was packing up."
Walperton said with a grudging note of admiration in hisvoice: "You don't waste much time, do you, Callaghan? Is thereanything else?"
Callaghan got up.
"Nothing else," he said. "I thought that information would bebetter than nothing."
"I'm very glad ofany information on this damned job,"said Walperton.
"And I'm very glad to have been of use," said Callaghan.
He grinned at Walperton, nodded to Gridley, picked up his hatand went out.
Walperton lit a cigarette. He said to Gridley:
"What the hell's Callaghan playing at. D'you think he came inhere just to give me that information?"
Gridley shrugged his shoulders.
"I don't know," he answered. "But I know one thing an' that isthat Callaghan's too clever to give you information that wasn'tO.K. Besides," he went on, "there wouldn't be any harm insomebody going down to this Yard Arm dump and taking a look."
"Perhaps not," said Walperton. "You'd better go down. You'dbetter go down to-morrow night. Maybe by the day after to-morrowthis Ropey bird will be back. See what you can get out of him.You'd better be careful. If he's got a record he might try to beclever, and we've got no charge to make against him."
Gridley said: "I remember Ropey Felliner. He's been in twiceon drug charges and once for receiving. He used to be a doperunner for somebody or other."
"Get his record," said Walperton. "Anyhow you won't do anyharm by talking to him."
Gridley grinned.
"I don't think I'll do muchgood," he said. "There'sonly one way to talk to Ropey and that's with a length of leadpiping. Still... there's no harm in trying."
CALLAGHAN went into the Premier Lounge in Albemarle Street,ordered a salad and a double whisky and soda.
While he was eating he was thinking about Walperton and whatWalperton would do. Probably, Callaghan thought, the Detective-Inspector would send someone down to Devonshire. But hewould not do that for a day or two. Callaghan had already made uphis mind that when Walperton's emissary arrived he should findthe birds—both the birds—flown.
After which the detective-officer would make inquiries in theneighbourhood. He would discover that therehad been aWilliam Blaize and a Ropey Felliner at the Yard Arm cottage. Andonce this fact was established Walperton would begin to believethe theory that Callaghan intended he should believe—thatthe Vendayne job wasnot an inside job but a cleverlyconceivedoutside job pulled by somebody who had beenastute enough to get the safe combination by some extraneousmethod and experienced enough to negotiate an entrance intoMargraud without leaving trade marks all over the place.
He ordered another double whisky, drank it, paid his bill, lita cigarette and went out into the street. He walked downAlbemarle Street, went into the telephone box on the corner ofHay Hill and rang through to the Ventura Club. He asked for Mr.Ventura:
After a minute or two Gabby came on the line. Callaghansaid:
"Gabby? This is Callaghan. I'm going to do you a good turn. Ilooked in at Scotland Yard this morning. A D.I. called Walpertonhad telephoned my office and asked me to. He knew I'd been downto Margraud. Well, this Walperton is a bit of a mug. He talkedquite a lot."
Ventura said: "Did he? Well, what did he have to say thatwould interest me?"
Callaghan grinned.
"Just this," he said. "It seems that they've got a line onRopey Felliner—you know the slugger who used to work foryou. Apparently he's been working at some place near Margraud.Walperton has checked on Ropey's record and doesn't like it. Ithink they might pull him in. I thought perhaps you wouldn't likethat?"
There was a pause. Then Ventura said:
"I don't know that I'd mind it."
Callaghan said: "Don't bluff. I'm doing you a good turn. Youget through on the telephone to Ropey and tell him to clear outquick before they get down there and start putting him throughit. Well... good-bye, Gabby."
He hung up. He stood for a moment outside the call boxthinking about the next step. Then he lit a cigarette and beganto walk towards the Empire Cable Office in Piccadilly. He spent afew minutes evolving the cable:
HARVEY SOAMES
TELEGRAPHIC ADDRESS: INVESTIGATE CAPETOWN.
URGENT RUSH ME INFORMATION WILLIAM BLAIZEPROBABLY USING THAT NAME LAST YEAR CHECK LOCAL RECORDS CHECKMALMESBURY DISTRICT STOP. FIVE FEET ELEVEN INCHES BLUE EYES BLACKCURLY HAIR WELL DEVELOPED SLIGHT SCAR UNDER LEFT EAR MIGHT BE CONMAN CHECK FAMILY HISTORY
REPLY MARGRAUD MANOR GARA DEVONSHIRE MAKE ITSNAPPY GOOD WISHES
CALLAGHAN
He marked the cable "Priority," handed it in, and went back tothe office.
IT was just before six o'clock when Callaghanwent back to Berkeley Square.
He found on his desk an envelope. Written on it, in EffieThompson's handwriting, were the words:"Stevens leftthis."
Callaghan opened the letter and read the report written in thealmost unintelligible scrawl that Blooey affected. Itsaid:
Up to the beginning of this year, LancelotVendayne was getting around with a young woman called PaulaRochette. Paula is a blonde who lives at Flat 7, 263a CourtfieldGardens. She is a night club artiste and used to work at theVentura Club. I believe she was introduced to Vendayne by GabbyVentura the proprietor. Vendayne and Rochette used to get arounda lot together until a few months ago. Then it finished. I don'tknow why. Since then she's tried to get back working at theVentura but Gabby's not having any. That's all.
Blooey.
Callaghan made a note of Paula Rochette's address on hisblotter, tore up the report and threw it into the waste-paperbasket. Then he took from his pocket the copy of the letter fromRopey Felliner to Ventura. He read it through carefully, then hegot up and went into the outer office. Effie Thompson was puttingher machine away. Callaghan took his note case out of his pocket.He extracted five five-pound notes, handed them to Effie. Hesaid:
"Get around to Bond Street as quickly as you can. If you hurryyou'll be there before the shops close. I want a piece ofjewellery. You can spend all that on it. I want something thatlooks as if it costs more than twenty-five pounds—somethingflashy. See?"
She said: "I see. You want something to give to a woman who isnot of the class of women you usually give things to."
Callaghan said with a grin: "That sounds all right to me. Bythe way, what sort of women do I usually give things to?"
She looked at him. Her green eyes were jealous.
She said: "They vary, Mr. Callaghan... don't they? There wasMrs. Thorla Riverton and that other woman in the Riverton caseand there was..."
Callaghan said: "Never mind. Just go and get that baublebefore the shops close."
After she had gone, Callaghan looked through the telephonedirectory and found the number of Miss Paula Rochette, whodescribed herself as an actress. He sat down at Effie Thompson'sdesk and dialled the number. He asked if Miss Rochette was in.When the voice at the other end asked who it was, Callaghan saidit didn't matter, that he wanted to speak to Miss Rochette. Twominutes later a rather high-pitched voice came on the telephone.Callaghan said:
"Is that Miss Rochette? Well, my name's Callaghan. You don'tknow me, but I know you. I've seen you do your show at theVentura Club in the old days a dozen times. I used to go everynight to watch you. I thought you weremarvellous."
Miss Rochette said that was very good news, that she was gladwhen people rang her up and told her that they liked her show.Her voice was curious.
Callaghan went on: "I often wanted to talk to you. In fact Iasked Gabby Ventura if he'd introduce us, but for some reason orother he stalled. He didn't want to do it, which was a little bittough when you come to think of it."
Miss Rochette said that Ventura was an old devil who wouldqueer anybody's pitch. She asked why it wastough—particularly.
Callaghan said: "Well, to tell you the truth, last time I wentround there, I think it was the last night you gave a showthere—I bought a little present for you, but owing toGabby's attitude I never had the chance to give it to you. Hesaid he didn't like patrons meeting artistes at the club."
Miss Rochette said that Gabby was a lousy liar, that he didnot mind anything of the sort, that he was just trying to queerher pitch.
"Well, it doesn't matter much," said Callaghan. "The point isI'm at a loose end, and I'd still like an opportunity to give youthat mark of my appreciation of you as an artiste. I wonder ifyou'd like to have dinner somewhere to-night."
Miss Rochette gurgled. She said she would like it immensely.She agreed to meet Callaghan at the Jewel Club off Conduit Streetat eight o'clock. Callaghan hung up. He was looking quite pleasedwith life.
MISS ROCHETTE sat opposite Callaghan at a corner table at theJewel Club. She was dressed in a very tight-fitting black frockand wore a great deal of imitation jewellery. She was of theperoxide blonde type, and Callaghan noticed that her hair wasreverting to its original colour at the roots. He hoped she wouldhave it dyed again soon for her own sake.
At the moment she was giving an imitation of a high-classcabaret artiste, carefully sticking out her little finger whenshe drank and doing all the things which she considered to be thehall-mark of "class."
She said: "I've enjoyed my dinner immensely, Mr. Callaghan. Imust say it's a great treat going out with a real gentleman. Inmy business too many people try to get funny with you."
Callaghan nodded.
"I know," he said. "It must be tough. But then you see I'vealways admired you as anartiste."
She said: "It's nice to hear that. Tell me, which of mynumbers did you like best?"
Callaghan said: "Don't ask me a thing like that, because Iwasn't so much interested in the numbers as the way you put themover."
He put his hand in his pocket and brought out the jewelledclip that Effie had brought. He slid the case towards her. Hesaid:
"You'd have had this a long time ago except for Gabby Ventura.I could never make out why he wouldn't let me meet you. He'dalways got some sort of excuse."
"I don't understand it either," she said. "He used to bring alot of thugs round to see me. Maybe he had some reason. Anyway,Ventura's an old devil. He'd do anything to crab my pitch. Ialways think..."
She stopped talking as she opened the case and saw the clip.She squealed with delight.
"It's just too divine," she said. "I've always wanted one ofthem, you know." She looked at him archly. "Of course, I oughtnot to take presents from gentlemen..."
Callaghan said solemnly: "That is a gift to anartiste—not a woman."
"I see," said Paula.
She did not soundtoo pleased.
"It's funny," she went on. "I mighta met you a long time agoif it hadn't been for Gabby. But as I was saying he'd always doanything to queer my pitch."
"Would he?" said Callaghan. He signalled the waiter. "I wantyou to try a cocktail they serve here. It's a very good one.You'll like it."
He told the waiter to bring two double Bacardi cocktails. MissRochette said:
"I ought not to drink a cocktail after whisky." She looked athim archly. "I shall be telling you all about my past life in aminute."
Callaghan thought that that was exactly what he wanted her todo. When she had drunk her cocktail he gave her a cigarette. Hesaid:
"It's a small thing, but I wonder why Ventura got rid of you,Paula. I should have thought you took a lot of custom to theclub."
"I did," she said. "My show was always a riot there. Lots ofpeople came to see me. All my boy friends too. I used to have alot of boy friends in those days," she added with a look that wassupposed to be demure.
She took her cigarette out of her mouth and looked at it for amoment. She said:
"I've got an idea why Ventura sacked me. I've always hoped I'dhave a chance to get back on him."
Callaghan said: "You never know. You might get a chance. Tellme—I'm curious. Why did he sack you?"
She put her fingers to her hair and pushed a blonde tendrilback into place. She said:
"It was over some fellow—a fellow called LancelotVendayne. He used the club a lot. Gabby introduced him to me.Gabby told me that he was the sort of fellow who'd give me a goodtime."
"I see," said Callaghan. "So you and Lancelot were friends,eh?"
"More or less," she answered. "For about eight or nine weeks.According to Gabby I thought this Vendayne bird was going to giveme a hell of a time. But don't you believe it. He was the meanestthing I've ever struck."
Callaghan said: "Meanness is a bad thing in a man."
"That's right," said Paula. "He was as mean as a monkey. Asfor havin' money, I don't think he'dever had anymoney."
"I see," said Callaghan. "Tell me something, Paula," he wenton. "Did Gabby and this Vendayne bird quarrel over you?" Helooked at her. "I don't see why they shouldn't have," he saidseriously. "You're the sort of woman that men would quarrelover."
She simpered.
"Well, I s'pose I am in a way," she said. "But it wasn't overme. I don't know very much about it, but there was someshare deal on. Vendayne was mixed up in it. I believe he thoughthe was going to make a fortune in about four weeks. My opinionis," Paula continued, "that Vendayne had got Gabby to put somemoney into this share business and when it didn't come off helost his dough, and I think there was a bit of a schmozzle. AndI got the sack. Gabby said he couldn't afford to run afloor show at the club any more, and that anyway with this wargoing nobody wanted to see floor shows. I think he waswrong."
Callaghan said: "I'm sure he was."
He lit a cigarette. Paula took out her compact and began topowder her nose and to touch up her too-scarlet mouth. Callaghanwatched her. He was rather pleased with Paula. She had given himanother piece of the jig-saw puzzle to fit into its place.
And she was an odd sort of person. Paula was definitelynot the sort of woman that a man like Lancelot Vendaynewould go for. She was not his type. Lancelot, who liked—atleast—the outward appearance of success, would certainlynot get around with a woman who was obviously not off the topshelf, who didn't know how to dress, who didn't know how tobehave and who wore the cheapest sort of perfume.
He began to think about Audrey Vendayne, who had, for aperiod, played with the idea of becoming engaged to Lancelot andthen had not liked it after all.
Lancelot, thought Callaghan, would probably have started withPaula after Audrey had given him the air. But why?
He thought he probably knew the answer to that one. There wasan old-fashioned idea about Gabby Ventura—one notunassociated with night club proprietors—which was thatwhoever was starring as an artiste in his club, was alsoprotem, his mistress. Callaghan thought that it would be quiteon the cards that Lancelot had gone out to make Paula, merelybecause, having been associated with Gabby, she might be able togive him some information he required.
And it was just as much on the cards that Gabby was quiteprepared to allow such a situation to exist while it suited hisbook.
Then, when Lancelot's "deal" failed to materialise; when,owing to something or somebody, he was short of money, the firstthing he did was to get rid of Paula, and Gabby, true to type,having finished with her as a means of inside information aboutLancelot, promptly dismissed her from her job at the club.
And Lancelot thought that Gabby was a crook and Gabby thoughtthat Lancelot was "clever" and a "bastard." And yet, in spite oftheir obvious dislike for each other, Lancelot was notdisinclined to borrow three hundred pounds from Gabby to lend toAudrey, and Gabby was not disinclined to lend it.
A very pretty set-up.
Callaghan said: "Paula... there's something about you thatgets me. I think you're swell. What would you like to do?"
She smiled. The Bacardi cocktail after whisky was beginning toaffect her outlook. Life, in spite of the war, and this and that,appeared almost rosy.
"I think you're pretty good, too," she said. "Well... I'd liketo go along to the Minnelola Club an' have a drink. An' then I'dlike to go along to the Blue Pennant an' have another littledrink an' then..."
"And then," interrupted Callaghan, "we'll go along to GabbyVentura's place and show him that Paula Rochette isn't such aback number as he thinks she is."
She laughed.
"That's a hell of an idea," she said. "I like it. Let's dothat."
Callaghan signalled the waiter for the bill. He thought theevening was going to be interesting. He said:
"I've got to make a telephone call. I'll be back in aminute."
He went into the call box in the corner. He rang Grant'sHotel. He asked if Mr. Vendayne was in. The clerk said hewas.
"All right," said Callaghan. "Well... I don't want to talk tohim. Just give him a message, will you? Say that Mr. Callaghanwill be at the Ventura Club at twelve-thirty, and he'd like tohave a word with Mr. Vendayne before he goes back toDevonshire."
PAULA leaned back in the corner of the cab and squeezedCallaghan's arm. She said:
"I think this is a marvelous idea—you an' me goin' toGabby's place an' lettin' him see that little Paula is stillgettin' around with the right sort of people."
She smothered a hiccough with difficulty.
Callaghan said: "I think that too."
But he was not thinking that. He was thinking that it would beamusing to watch the reactions of Gabby Ventura and LancelotVendayne when they saw Paula with him.
If the association between Vendayne and Paula had been merelywhat it appeared to be then there was no reason why either Gabbyor Lancelot should be unduly interested in the fact thatCallaghan was amusing himself by taking around a rather passénight-club turn.
But if, on the other hand, Gabby had put Paula in to keep aneye on Lancelot, and Lancelot had given the lady the airimmediately he had realised what Gabby's scheme was—if thiswere so, then both of them would bevery interested in theCallaghan-Paula association.
The cab stopped outside the Ventura Club. Callaghan helpedPaula out. She was happy. A small bottle of champagne at theMinnelola Club, followed by another small bottle at the BluePennant, had put the seal on an ideal evening. And then there wasthe brooch that Callaghan had given her. Life, thought Paula, wasnot so bad after all, and even if she was experiencing a littledifficulty in enunciating the rather long and "classy" words thatshe had been using during the latter part of the evening, she waswell aware of the fact that she was a perfect lady witheverything that being a perfect lady implied.
They went into the club. When they were seated at the table inthe corner and another bottle of champagne was ordered, Callaghansaw Gabby standing by the bar. Gabby was looking towards them.His attitude was, as usual, relaxed, but there was a certainstiffness about the stock smile round his plump lips. He cameover to them.
"Hallo, Slim," he said cheerfully. "An' hallo, Paula. It'snice to see you around again. How's tricks?"
Paula tossed her head.
"Tricks," she said brightly, "is all right, although why youshould condescend to worry about the state of my relativelyunimportant existence is more than I can say, Mr. Ventura."
She bestowed a glance on Gabby that was intended to becynical, proud and indifferent.
Callaghan said: "Why don't you sit down and have a drink,Gabby?"
Ventura sat down. He produced a gold cigarette-case and lit acigarette. He said:
"It was nice of you to trouble to call through to me aboutRopey, Slim, but you needn't have bothered. Anyway, I didn't knowwhat you was takin' about."
"That's fine," said Callaghan. "If you didn't know what I wastalking about, then I was wasting my time. But I don't think Iwas. I bet you got through to Ropey on the telephone or wiredhim."
He grinned at Ventura.
Paula, who had drunk half a glass of champagne, saidacidly:
"Mr. Ventura, you're no gentleman. I've been wanting to tellyou that for a long time."
Ventura looked at her. Then he said to Callaghan:
"I don't know what the idea is, Slim—you chasin' aroundwith this floosie, I mean. But I flung her out of this club oncean' if she don't keep her ugly mouth shut up I'm personally goingto throw her out on her ear. She makes me sick."
Paula stood up.
"Oh, my God!" she said. "So I've got to be insulted, have I?Mr. Callaghan, if you're the man I take you for, if you've gotone instink of a gentleman, you're goin' to smack that fat slob'slousy ears right off. The dirty..."
"Sit down, Paula," said Callaghan. "You're first-classprovided you don't try to talk, and you'll find that sitting downis much easier than standing up."
Paula began to cry. He patted her hand.
Ventura said softly: "Look, Slim. You know me. I'm all right.I never start anythin'. You an' me have always got along. You'veused this club for a long time, an' I've always treated youright, haven't I? But don't start anythin', Slim. I'd hate to getsort of annoyed with you."
"You don't say," said Callaghan. "All right, Gabby. Any timeyou want to get annoyed just start right in. I'll chance whathappens."
He was smiling amiably.
Ventura got up. He said:
"O.K. Slim. I reckon that you an' me know just where weare."
"You may know where you are, Gabby," said Callaghan. "ButI don't." His smile was more amiable than ever. "But I'mgoing to find out before I'm through."
He stubbed out his cigarette. Ventura got up.
"I'll be seein' you," he said. "And don't let that cheap skirtstart anythin' around this club, otherwise I'm going to have herpinched."
Callaghan said: "She wouldn't worry. Maybe she likes beingpinched. So long, Gabby."
He watched Ventura as he walked back to the bar, and thence tothe pass door at the end of the club that led to the stairway tothe flat above.
As Gabby disappeared Lancelot Vendayne came through theentrance curtains. He stood, looking around the dance floor.Eventually he saw Callaghan and Paula. Callaghan thought thatLancelot was looking rather unhappy, rather strained.
He said: "Paula, I've had a very nice evening and so have you.And even if you have a headache to-morrow, you'll still have thatbrooch."
"Oh, yes?" said Paula. "What're you tryin' to tell me? Is'pose you think the time has come when I ought to do adisappearing act." She snivelled a little. "I don'tunderstand you," she concluded.
Callaghan got up.
"Come on, honey," he said. "I'm going to get you a cab andsend you home. One of these fine days you and I will meet againand have another little drink together."
He put his hand under her arm.
She said: "It's bloody awful, that's what it is. Any time Imeet a man who I think is a real gentleman he walks out on me. Idon't understand it. I give up."
She arranged her features into what was intended to be apicture of distressedhauteur—a picture which,having regard to the fact that her eyeblack was running down herwell peach-bloomed cheeks, was not entirely successful. But shewent quietly.
When Callaghan came back Lancelot was standing at the bar. Hesaid:
"I didn't knowyou knew Paula. Paula can be amusingsometimes when she'squite sober."
Callaghan grinned.
"You'd be surprised at the things and people that I know,Vendayne," he said. "Let's have a drink."
He ordered double whiskies and sodas.
Vendayne said: "Shall we sit down? I want to talk to you."
They went over to a table. Callaghan drank his whisky andsoda. He said:
"I thought you and I might have a little talk before I go backto Devonshire. I'm going early to-morrow morning."
Vendayne said: "And what the hell d'you propose to do when youget there? Tell me that."
Callaghan said: "I don't know. That's half the fun of being adetective. You never quite knowwhat you're going todo."
Lancelot drank some whisky.
"That's damned nice for the people who are paying thedetective," he said caustically. "I expect the fact that he neverquite knows what he's going to do amuses them immensely."
"Possibly," said Callaghan. His voice was insolent. "But whyshould you worry?You're not paying me."
Vendayne sneered.
"Which is lucky for me," he said. "If Iwas paying youI should want some results for my money. As it is"—thesneer became more apparent—"it's quite obvious that youare working for the people who are paying you."
Callaghan sighed.
"That shows how honest I am—don't you think?" heasked.
Vendayne put down his glass. He fumbled with his cigarette-case. Callaghan could see that his hands were trembling. He said:
"I've heard about you, Callaghan. You're supposed to be damnedclever. Let me give you a word of advice. Don't be too damnedclever where I'm concerned. There might be a come-back."
Callaghan blew a smoke ring. He blew it with great artistryright into Lancelot's face.
"There is, of course, always the possibility of a come-back,"he said. "But I doubt its efficacy if a rather weak-kneedsonofabitch like you was behind it." He smiled at Lancelot.
Vendayne said: "I see. So that's how it is." He controlled hisrising temper with difficulty. "I wonder why you think you cantalk to me like that?" he asked.
"I don't know," said Callaghan. "I get that way sometimes. Itmust be the weather or the war or something. Don't you likeit?"
His blue eyes, very cynical, very hard, watched the other.
"I don't like it," said Vendayne. "And what's more I'm notgoing to stand for it. I..."
Callaghan said: "You tell me something." He leaned across thetable. "Just how are you going to stop it?" he asked.
Vendayne said: "It might be easier than you think. Youmight be workingvery hard for the people who arepaying you. You might even be assisting in something that couldput even the clever Mr. Callaghan in a tough spot."
"Dear... dear..." said Callaghan. "Now I believe you'regetting tough. But you've a lot to learn, Lancelot. You ought totake some lessons in bluffing. You're not good at it."
Vendayne's face was white with rage.
"Possibly you'll find out that I'm notbluffing," hesaid. "Perhaps sooner than you expect. People like you are tooprone to think that people like me must be fools."
"I don't think you're a fool," said Callaghan. "Iknowyou're a fool. If you weren't you wouldn't be sitting theretrying to bluff me. Trying to teach your grandmother how to suckeggs."
Vendayne leaned across the table.
"Really," he sneered. "Well, let me tellyou something.I began to suspect that you were up to something when you advisedme that the claim against the Insurance Company ought to bewithdrawn.Why did you do that? You know damned well thatI created the situation in which you were brought into this case,and I created it because I wanted the screw put on the InsuranceCompany. I wanted to know why they wouldn't pay. Your job was tofind that out. Instead of whichyou are the person whowants the claim withdrawn. Any one might easily think..."
Callaghan said quietly: "What might any one easily think?"
Vendayne sat back in his chair. The expression on his face wasnot amiable. He said:
"They might easily think that the people who ought to havebeen most keen on the Insurance Company paying aren't too keen.And the reason for their being not too keen was that they mightknow something about that burglary. And because they were scaredwhen I had you put in they've got you on their side. You'reworking for them because you're as crooked as they are..."
Callaghan said smoothly: "I don't wonder Audrey wasn't keen onyou. I don't wonder she gave you the air... you cheapsissy..."
Vendayne flushed. His face was the colour of beet-root. Hemuttered:
"All right, Mr. Callaghan. If you wait long enough you'll seewho wins. And I don't think you'll have to wait long."
Callaghan lit a fresh cigarette.
"I've told you that you're bluffing," he said. "And youhaven't said or done anything to show me that I'm wrong. So Istill think you're bluffing. See... ?"
Vendayne fumbled in the inside pocket of his jacket. Hebrought out an envelope. He flung it on the table.
"So I'm bluffing, am I?" he said. "Well, read that, Mr. Know-all!"
Callaghan looked at the envelope. It was addressed,typewritten, to Lancelot Vendayne at Grant's Hotel. The postmarkwas Exeter.
He opened the envelope. Inside was a sheet of quartonotepaper. He read the typewritten note:
To Lancelot Vendayne Esq.
Dear Mug,
I thought that I was the only sucker inthis job. I'm glad you've joined me.
Even if the Vendayne jewels hadn't beenpinched they'd have done you a bundle of good if and when you got'em after the old boy passed out. I should think the whole goddamlot was worth about forty pounds. Why don't you get wise toyourself? Love to Mister Callaghan.
With best wishes
From one Mug to Another.
Callaghan read the note through twice. He put it in theenvelope and handed it back to Lancelot. He said:
"Very interesting. D'you know what I'd do if I were you?"
Vendayne did not answer.
Callaghan continued: "If I were you I'd take that down toDetective-Inspector Walperton at Scotland Yard. That's whatI'd do. Butyou won't."
Vendayne looked at him.
"No?" he said. "And why not?"
"Because you haven't got the nerve," said Callaghan. "Becauseyou might start something that you can't finish. And lastlybecause if you did I'm going to make life so tough for you thatyou'll wish you'd never seen me. Understand?"
"I understand," said Vendayne. "And I'm telling you to go tohell. I'll teach you to call me a sissy before I'm through withyou Callaghan."
Callaghan said: "I oughtn't to have called you a sissy. You'renot good-looking enough. You're just a plain cheap sonofabitchand you make me sick."
Vendayne jumped to his feet. Callaghan put out his hand andpushed. Vendayne fell backwards over his chair.
Callaghan said: "You run off and get somebody to give you abromide. You ought not to be out at this time of night withoutyour nurse."
After he had finished brushing his clothes Lancelot Vendaynewent back to the bar and ordered a large whisky and soda. He felthe needed it. When he had drunk it he asked the plump blondebehind the bar where Mr. Ventura was. She said he was up in hisflat, that she would ring through.
She rang through. She did not get an immediate answer becauseGabby was busy sending a wire over the telephone. It wasaddressed to Ropey Felliner and it consisted of threewords:
GET OUT QUICK.
CALLAGHAN drove the Jaguar slowly into thegarage at Margraud. He got out of the car, lit a cigarette,walked out of the garage, round the east side of the house andstood, at the end of the top terrace, looking out towards thesea.
It was just after six o'clock. The late afternoon sun, stillbrilliant, gilded the Margraud terraces, turned into sheets ofgolden velvet the lawns below the terrace steps. Callaghanthought it was a lovely afternoon and an exquisite setting forsomething—he was not quite sure what. He ruminated thatdramatic situations were sometimes the better for a suitabledecor, decided that the scenery was all right and thatonly the drama was, at the moment, lacking.
He walked slowly back to the entrance. Stevens was standing inthe cool, shadowy hall. He said:
"I'm glad to see you back, Mr. Callaghan. I hope you aren'ttoo tired. Would you like something?"
"You can send a bottle of whisky up to my room, Stevens," saidCallaghan. "And where's Mr. Nikolls?"
The butler said he thought that Mr. Nikolls was at SlaptonSands fishing. Callaghan, on his way up the stairs, wondered whatWindy was fishing for.
WHEN, half an hour later, Nikolls knocked and put his headround the door, Callaghan was lying on the bed, naked except fora pair of lemon silk shorts, drinking neat whisky, looking at theceiling.
He said: "How was the fishing, Windy?"
Nikolls grinned. "Not so hot," he said. "I didn't even catch acold."
Callaghan picked up the bottle of whisky from his bedsidetable and inserted the cork. He threw the bottle to Nikolls, whocaught it expertly, then got a chair and Callaghan's tooth glass,sat down and poured himself a drink.
Callaghan asked: "What's new, Windy?"
"Nothin's new," said Nikolls. "Clarissa has been goddammysterious, snoopin' about the place like she was chief agent tothe Gestapo or somethin'. Audrey has just been around lookin' asif life had declared a blitzkrieg on her just for nothin' at all,an' as for Esme..."
Callaghan interrupted: "What's the matter with Esme?"
"Search me," said Nikolls. "That dame is either as dumb asthey come or else she's up to somethin'. She's worried sick. Itried that stuff on her like you said, tryin' to get her to fallfor the idea that I didn't like you a bit an' that she could relyon little Windy till the cows came home, but she just wasn'tbuyin' it. She looked at me as if I was somethin' the cat broughtin an' scrammed. It's my considered opinion that she don't likeme, an' she don't likeyou and she don't likeanybody. I don't believe that baby even likes herself."
Callaghan said: "That's all right. I don't see why she shouldlike herself either."
He caught the bottle and drank some more whisky.
Nikolls said: "I'm glad to have you back with us, Slim. It'sbeen sorta lonely down here just hangin' around."
"Well, it won't be lonely any more," said Callaghan. "I thinksomething's going to happen any minute."
"That'll be nice," said Nikolls. "I'd like something tohappen. I've never been on such a screwy case in my life. Isuppose you wouldn't have an idea..."
"I've got plenty of ideas," said Callaghan, "but the mainthing is, I think I've started a little trouble."
"Swell," said Nikolls. "Anythin' is better than nothin' an'there's nothin' like a spot of trouble to make people starttalkin'. I remember a dame I knew in Wisconsin..."
"So do I," said Callaghan. "I've been remembering her eversince the first time you told me about her. She was the one withthe legs, wasn't she?"
"Correct," said Nikolls. "They was her one redeemin' feature.She got through life on them an' a cast iron nerve..."
He sighed at the recollection.
Callaghan blew a smoke ring. He began:
"I went down and saw Walperton at the Yard yesterday. Hedoesn't like private detectives. I sold him a pup."
"You don't say," said Nikolls. "Maybe he won't like that."
"He won't like it if he finds out," said Callaghan, "but Idon't see why he should find out. I told him Ropey Felliner wasliving over at that cottage at the Yard Arm. I told him aboutBlaize and suggested that Blaize had a record. I believe Blaizehas either cleared out or is just about to clear out, and RopeyFelliner will be clearing out too. I told Gabby Ventura to givehim the tip. Gabby pretended that he knew nothing about Ropey,but I bet he got through and told him to get out of herequick."
"I get it," said Nikolls. "Walperton either comes bustin'around here himself or sends somebody down. He finds Ropey an'Blaize are gone. He checks on Ropey's record and finds it as longas a bride's night-dress, after which he comes to the conclusionthat Blaize has gotta record too—even if the cops don'tknow it. He then begins to believe that the Margraud burglary wasan outside job pulled by Blaize and or Ropey and or pals oftheirs."
He put his glass down suddenly and leaned forward in hischair.
"Hey, Slim," he said, "what's the big idea? What are youselling that boy that phoney stuff for?"
Callaghan grinned.
"What do you mean?" he said.
Nikolls shrugged his shoulders.
"If ever there was an inside job, this is it," he said. "Andhow could Ropey have had anything to do with it? He's only beendown here a few days."
"Quite," said Callaghan. "But Walperton's not to knowthat."
He blew another smoke ring at the ceiling.
"Windy," he said, "when I came in on this job I thought I wasworking for Lancelot Vendayne and the Vendayne family. Well, Ithink I'm working for the Vendayne family now and notLancelot."
"You don't say," said Nikolls. "What you mean is, you'reworking for that dame Audrey." He laughed.
"I don't blame you either," he said, "I could go for that babymyself. But it wouldn't be so good if Clarissa found out. Shethinks you're forher."
Callaghan said: "Don't concern yourself with Audrey, Windy.Just get that great brain of yours concentrated on this case. Ithink I'm beginning to see daylight."
"Yeah?" said Windy. "Well, you've got something on me. Thiscase looks to me as clear as a bottle of ink."
Callaghan said: "We know that Gabby sent Ropey down here tokeep an eye on Blaize. Well, you know as much about Gabby as Ido. He's a tough egg. If Gabby had known Blaize—known hewas a crook—if he'd ever met him before, he wouldn't havesent Ropey down. He'd have come down himself and had a show-down.But he didn't know anything about Blaize, so he sent Ropey downto keep an eye on him, taking advantage of an advertisement thatBlaize had put in the newspaper."
"I got that," said Nikolls.
"All right," said Callaghan. "Now, when does Gabby send Ropeydown here? He sends him down hereafter the burglary hasbeen committed—not before. So it is only after the burglaryhad been committed that Gabby is interested in Blaize. Now canyou see some daylight?"
"Not particularly," said Nikolls. "Listen, are you trying totell me it was Blaize pinched this stuff?"
"Why shouldn't he?" asked Callaghan. "It's a free country,isn't it? Anyway, that's my story."
"Blaize won't be here to deny it," said Nikolls. "Well, youthink what you like, Slim, but my guess is still Audrey."
Callaghan said: "Windy, there are moments when you'repositively thick. Take a look at Audrey Vendayne, and askyourself whether you really believe that that woman could bemixed up in a burglary."
Nikolls raised his eyebrows.
"Sarsaparilla!" he said. "Listen, Slim, experience has taughtme thatany goddam woman can be mixed up inanygoddam business no matter how bad it is. Ain't that what womenwere made for?"
Look," he said, "you never knew any trouble in this world thatsome dame wasn't at the bottom of, and the sweller the dame theworse the trouble is. So why not Audrey?"
Callaghan said: "She just isn't the type, Windy."
"I see," said Nikolls. "So she's just not the type! But she'sdone one or two things that're pretty suspicious looking to mymind."
"I agree with you," said Callaghan. "But that isn't the point.Audrey's attitude may be suspicious; she may have done somethings that are suspicious, but that doesn't mean to say she knewanything about the burglary."
"All right," said Nikolls. "What does she want to give you£300 to stay out of this case for? I suppose that washonest."
Callaghan said: "Windy, you answer your own question. Whyshould she give me £300 to stay out of this case? What's thelogical answer to that question?"
Nikolls said: "The logical answer to that question is that shedidn't want the case investigated because she'd had something todo with it. She was scared."
"That's all right," said Callaghan, "but that doesn't meanthat she had anything to do with it."
Nikolls pursed his lips and whistled.
"I see," he said. "I'm beginning to get it. You think she'sscared for somebody else?"
"That's right," said Callaghan. "If you use such brains asyou've got, Windy, it wouldn't take you very long to work out whothat somebody is."
Nikolls refilled the tooth glass with whisky. He took a longdrink.
"I think this is anice case," he said. "Somethinghappens every minute, but nobody gets pinched except maybe Ropey,and that wouldn't hurt anybody."
Callaghan said: "Go over to the wardrobe and feel in thebreast pocket of my coat. You'll find a copy letter. It's a copyof a letter that Ropey Felliner wrote to Gabby. I found theoriginal in Gabby's desk... Well, read it."
Nikolls read it. "Nice work," he said.
"All right," said Callaghan. "Well, take the operative pointsin that letter. Ropey says Blaize is telling somebody that thedeal was phoney. Mark the word 'deal.' So there's been adeal with somebody, and that has to be between Blaize andsomebody else, because Blaize is the person who's complaining,and the other person—whoever it is—has given Blaize araw deal—has twisted him. That could be the onlyexplanation of Blaize saying that the deal had been phoney.
"Now look at the other operative words in that note. Blaizesays he's going to keep the other party tied up properly, thatthere was going to be a show-down pretty soon. What does Blaizemean when he says he's going to keep the other party tied up?Well, it must mean that he's got some sort of hold or lever onthe other party and he's going to use it. Probably that's whatthe show-down is going to be. Ropey says that that show-down isgoing to take place pretty quickly because Blaize is only goingto be down here for a couple of days—that was two daysago."
"I see," said Nikolls. "So you're expecting somefireworks?"
Callaghan lit a fresh cigarette.
"Correct," he said.
He got off the bed, walked over to the wardrobe and began todress. He asked:
"Where's Esme?"
Nikolls said: "She's around somewhere. She was in early thisafternoon. She's been sticking around pretty close the last dayor two."
"You don't know where Clarissa is at the moment?" queriedCallaghan.
"I believe she's in her room," said Nikolls. "I told you Ithought that baby was practising to join the Ogpu, didn't I?"
Callaghan grinned.
"I know," he said. "But in this case we're the Ogpu. She isworking for us."
Nikolls got up.
"I'm glad somebody's working for us. Maybe before we'rethrough with this bezusus we'll need it. I'll be around if youwant me."
CALLAGHAN walked down the stone steps that led from the lowerterrace on to the lawn. At the bottom he took the left-handpathway, walked parallel with the terrace, turned right at theend. At the end of the path where the wall that surrounded thatside of Margraud separated the lawn from the fields outside was asummer-house. Callaghan walked down and stood leaning up againstthe wall of the summer-house looking out towards the sea,smoking. He stood there for three or four minutes; then he heardthe sound of light footsteps on the path behind him. He did notmove. Somebody said in a cold voice:
"Mr. Callaghan."
Callaghan turned. He was smiling. He took the cigarette out ofhis mouth. He said:
"Good-evening, Miss Vendayne."
She was as white as death and her hands were trembling.Callaghan realised that she was fighting a first-class rage. Hesaid:
"It looks as if you're angry with me about something. I seemto be thoroughly unpopular with you. I wonder why?"
"You have the impertinence to wonder why, Mr. Callaghan?" shesaid. "Anyhow, I don't want to discuss that with you, but I'd beglad if you would do something for me, and it's the last favourI'll ever ask. I'd be glad if you'd pack your bags and get out.There's nothing you can do down here. There's no need for you tostay."
"That's where you're wrong," said Callaghan. "There is anawful lot for me to do down here, and I've got an idea I'm goingto stay down here and do it. But why the sudden anger?"
She said: "I've just been talking to my cousin Lancelot on thetelephone. It seems he's been making one or two inquiries aboutyou in London, Mr. Callaghan. It seems that whilst you arepurporting to be working for Mr. Vendayne and us, in reality youare working for the Insurance Company."
Callaghan put the cigarette back in his mouth and inhaled. Hesaid coolly.
"Let's go into the summer-house. I want to talk to you. You'rebeginning to make me feel bored."
She looked at him in surprise for a second, then she movedinto the summer-house. Callaghan went in after her. He pointed tothe rustic bench on one side. He said. "Just sit down there andlisten to me, because, as I told you just now, you're beginningto make me feelvery bored."
She opened her mouth to speak. He put up his hand. Sheshrugged her shoulders. Callaghan went on:
"During my experience as a private detective, I have met a lotof fool women, but you take the prize. One moment I look at youand think you're clever and the next moment you say somethingthat gives me the idea that you are solid lead above the ears.Now listen... you have just accused me of working for LancelotVendayne, this family and the Insurance Company itself. Well, whyshouldn't I? If this business is straight, then all those peoplewant the same thing—the recovery of the Vendayne jewellery.Why shouldn't I work for the Insurance Company, if the Vendaynefamily and Lancelot Vendayne are straight?"
She said: "How could Lancelot be anything else but straight?He stands to lose a great deal—"
Callaghan said: "I don't think Lancelot Vendayneisstraight. Maybe that surprises you." He grinned. "Possiblyyou didn't think he was straight either."
She said: "What do you mean by that?"
"Why did you throw him over?" said Callaghan. "You two weregoing to be engaged one time. Then you gave him the air. You're awise girl. I think Lancelot's too clever for you."
He saw that she was fighting to control her temper. Hewondered just how much that temper was due to anger and just howmuch to fear. Either way he proposed to take advantage of thesituation.
She said: "I don't think it matters whether I'm a wise girl,whether Lancelot has been too clever for me, or anything else.All that has nothing to do with you."
"It's got a lot to do with me," said Callaghan with an amiablegrin, "as you'll see before long. The trouble with you is thatyou get scared. You start something and you can't finish it. Yougo rushing around the place being impulsive, doing things beforeyou think. You're stupid. If you hadn't been stupid you'd havetaken the trouble to find out something about me before you triedto bribe me to keep out of this case. If you had you might havediscovered that I can't be bought anytime..." He paused. "Not formoney, anyhow..."
"I see," she said. Her voice held all the sarcasm she couldput into it. "I see. So the great, the clever Mr. Callaghan has aprice after all—even if it isn't money. Well, what isit?"
Callaghan grinned at her. His grin was pleasant and cool andquite kindly. He looked at her for a long time.
"You can have two guesses," he said.
She flushed. She began to speak, then stopped herself. After amoment she said:
"I prefer not to understand you."
"That's all right," said Callaghan. "You and I understand eachother very well. You think I'm a double-crossing detective who'sbeen grafted by the Insurance Company to snoop out the truth downhere, and I think you're a fool woman who could be intelligent ifshe wanted to, but who is stuck so full of high-falutin' nonsensethat, at this moment, you don't know which way you're pointing.Now if you had any sense..."
She interrupted. She said coolly:
"Thismight be interesting. I should like to knowexactlywhat I should do if I had any sense."
"I'll tell you," said Callaghan.
He leaned up against the wall of the summer-house beside thedoor, looking down on her. He looked pleasantly impersonal.
"If you had any sense," he went on, "you'd realise a lot ofthings. First of all you'd realise that if I was working for theInsurance Company to the exclusion of the Vendayne interests I'dhave already told 'em that you tried to bribe me to keep out ofthis case. That fact alone would have sewn the Vendayne family upas far as ever getting any money out of the Insurance people wasconcerned. Secondly, you'd see that after I got down here and youthought I'd double-crossed you over that three hundred you wentinto a huddle with your father and the pair of you decided totell me you were going topostpone the claim. I put a stopto that idea. But if you use such brains as you've got you'llrealise I did that for the Vendaynes. You'll see why in a minute.The next thing is that the Major has a heart attack. I don'tblame him. The probability is that he had the heart attack afteryou told him what was worryingyou, and then I imagine hetold you what was worryinghim. I wonder you didn't have aheart attack too!"
He produced his cigarette-case and lit a cigarette. He waswatching her. Her eyes were on his and they were interested.
"I'm not doing so badly, am I?" said Callaghan.
He inhaled cigarette smoke and allowed it to trickle out ofone nostril.
"The point is," he went on, "when I'm working on a case I liketowork on it and I like to work forsomebody. Idon't just kick around trying to scrape off odd bits of money.I've discovered that you make much more the other way. In thisparticular case I don't think that there's a lot of money to bemade but I've got other interests..."
She said: "Really. May I know what they are?"
"Certainly," answered Callaghan. "I'll tell you. You're mymain interest. I like your type of woman. I like the way youdress and walk and behave generally. Even if you do go off therails sometimes and do silly things I still think I like you...quite a lot."
She said: "I think you are the most impertinent person I'veever met. Your insolence is amazing. I suppose you consider Iought to be flattered when you say you 'like' me. Well... I don'tlikeyou!"
"The joke is youdo," said Callaghan. He was stillsmiling. "You like me quite a lot and because you do you take anawful lot of trouble to make yourself believe that you don't.That's why you lose your temper so easily."
She said: "I don't see why we should discuss the psychologicalangles of my character."
"All right," said Callaghan. "We won't. We won't discuss thepsychological angles of your character. We won't even discuss thepsychological angles of Esme's character or any of the otherinteresting things about this family. What we will discuss iswhat's going to happen and what you're going to do. And when Isay what you're going to do I mean it. You're going to do what Isay andlike it. Understand?"
She got up. For a moment Callaghan thought she was going tostrike him. She said in a low voice: "Don't you dare talk to melike that. I..."
He said: "You'd be surprised if I told you what I'd dare todo. But I meant what I said just now. There's going to be a show-down here at Margraud pretty soon and I want it to be playedmy way. That's the only way that's going to doyou anygood. Otherwise there's a damned good chance of Detective-Inspector Walperton—a most keen, efficient andbusy young police officer—coming down here and finding outone or two things that are better left where they are. You'rebetween the devil and the deep sea and even if you think I'm thedevil you'll find I'm more accommodating than the deep sea."
She put her hand out against the wall of the summer-house tosteady herself. Her face was very white. She said:
"Go on..."
Callaghan threw his cigarette end away.
"I've been up to London," he said. "I've done one or twothings I wanted to do, found out one or two things. The mainthing is:
"I've seen Layne, your father's solicitor. I've persuaded himto write to the Insurance Company andwithdraw the claim.The Insurance Company are not going to be at all suspicious aboutthat, first of all because I'm supposed to be working for them,and secondly because we've led 'em to believe that we'rewithdrawing the claim because I've an idea that I know where thatjewellery is. That fixes the Company. All they want isnotto have to pay that claim, and if they don't have to pay theclaim their interest in who's done what and why promptly ceases.Understand?"
She said: "I understand."
She took her hand away from the wall and went back to theseat. She sat down. All the while she kept her eyes onCallaghan's face.
"The next thing is Lancelot," he went on. "Lancelot is goingto make all the trouble he can. He's started in already by tryingto get you up against me. Remember that Lancelot was the one whowanted this business investigated and the screw put on theInsurance people. I'll bet he's been down to see them and they'vesaid their piece and he doesn't like it—especially as hehas decided not to likeme."
She said: "Is there any way of stopping Lancelot makingtrouble—as you call it?"
Callaghan said: "I'll find a way to do that."
She looked at the floor.
"I see," she said very quietly.
Callaghan said: "I've got to find ways to stop a lot of thingshappening. But with luck I might even manage that too..."
She got up.
"We shall be late for dinner," she said.
She moved over to the doorway, stood there, looking along thepath. She turned suddenly.
"It would be funny," she said in a peculiar, strained voice,"if you really were a friend, if you weren't such a..." her voicetrailed off.
Callaghan smiled.
"Stranger things have happened," he said. "Anyhow, stopworrying. Worry killed the cat and in any event it's illogical.It never stops things happening and it never helps. Don't worryand don'tdo anything. I think it's time you began to takethings easy for a bit. At the moment there's only onething—or possibly two things—for you to do."
She turned towards him, away from the doorway.
"What things?" she asked.
"First of all, relax," said Callaghan. "You're almost atbreaking point now. Secondly, when you've got time to get to itjust ask yourself if it isn't possible—having regard towhat I've told you—that instead of being your most bitterenemy I might even be almost a friend—shall we say a sheepin wolf's clothing."
He smiled at her. She noticed, once again, the whiteness ofhis teeth and the firm angle of his jaw. Suddenly, and for noreason that she knew, she began to sob. She stepped back into thesummer-house, her head in her hands.
Callaghan said: "Come here, Audrey. Stop crying. Take yourhands away from your face and don't be a little fool."
She did as she was told. She said:
"Well... what do you want... ?"
Callaghan put his hand under her chin and lifted it. He kissedher on the mouth.
He said: "You'd better sit down and arrange your face and yourmind. They both need it. I've got one or two things to do. I'llbe seeing you."
She said: "Very well..."
She produced an infinitesimal handkerchief from her tweedjacket pocket and dabbed at her eyes.
She said vaguely: "I wonder why I did that... or rather why Ilet you do that."
He grinned.
"You didn't do it," he said. "I did. But next time Ihope you'll be the originator of the idea."
He walked over to the doorway and lit a cigarette. He said,smiling:
"I told you I had my price. You realise now that I'm a mostexpensive person."
He walked along the pathway towards the house.
When he was out of sight she sat down on the bench andconcentrated on being normal.
The process took five minutes. When she had achieved itsuccessfully she decided to cry some more.
CALLAGHAN came out of the side entrance, walkeddown the terrace and turned right towards the putting green. Hethought Nikolls would be there. He was right. That one,struggling with the intricacies of an eight-foot putt, kept hiseye on the ball, hit it smartly and with determination andwatched it as it travelled towards the hole. He said, as he putthe putter under his arm:
"Maybe you think I'm goin' nutty, but this game's got me bad.One of these fine days when I come into some money or somethin'I'm goin' to give up bein' a detective. I'm goin' to be a golfpro."
Callaghan said: "I don't see any difference so far asyou are concerned."
"Think of it," said Nikolls. "Out in the open all day knockin'a little white ball about, teachin' beautiful dames how toswing."
Callaghan grinned. He said:
"You're not having such a bad time on this case."
"Correct," said Nikolls. "At the same time all good thingscome to an end."
He bent down and picked the golf ball out of the hole. Hesaid:
"By the way, Clarissa was talkin' to me just afterdinner—I just remembered. She asked me for a good name tocall a really bad guy. Well, I didn't like to tell her anythingsorta strong. I told her 'sonofabitch' was best, that is unlessshe wanted to call the guy a 'heel.' I got an idea she liked'heel' best."
Callaghan said: "Where is she?"
"I think she's gone to her room," said Nikolls. "Either thator else she's the one who's playin' the piano in the drawin'-room. You can hear it—but maybe that's Audrey."
He put the putter under his other arm and felt in his jacketpocket for a cigarette. After he'd lit it, he said:
"Where do we go from here, Slim? Do we know?"
Callaghan said: "I don't think we'll have to wait very longnow. I think a very nice little situation is blowing up. Stayaround, Windy. Don't go on any more of those fishing trips untilI say so."
"That's O.K. by me," said Nikolls. "I'm dyin' to get to work.I've almost forgottenhow to be a detective."
Callaghan said: "I don't think you ever remembered."
He walked away towards the house. As he neared the sideentrance, Stevens came out. He said:
"Here's a cable, sir. It's just arrived. I think it has beenat Kingsbridge a couple of hours. They had difficulty in findinga boy to bring it over."
Callaghan nodded. He took the cable, opened it, read it. Itwas from Harvey Soames in Cape Town. Callaghan began to grin. Hewas half joyful, half satanic. He went into the house, put hishead round the door of the drawing-room, looked in. Audrey wasseated at the piano running her fingers idly over the keys. Shedid not see him. Callaghan closed the door softly and wentupstairs.
He was half-way down the first floor corridor on the way tohis room when a door opened. Clarissa came out.
She said. "Slim, you're a heel. Alternatively, you're asonofabitch. Personally, I think you're both."
He grinned at her.
"I'm surprised you should have to get your vocabulary fromWindy, Clarissa. What's the matter?"
She leaned up against the door-post.
"The only trouble with me is my eyesight—that, and alittle synchronisation."
"What's the matter with your eyesight?" said Callaghan. "Andwho have you been synchronising with or haven't you?"
Clarissa said: "The trouble is my eyes are too good, and asfor the synchronisation, I happened to be in the end room of thiscorridor looking out towards the summer-house some time beforedinner. I saw you and Audrey. I didn't know she liked beingkissed like that. Was it good?"
"Very," said Callaghan. "Well, how do you think she'd like tobe kissed?"
Clarissa said: "Maybe I'll give you a demonstration one day.In the meantime, as I've told you before, I think you're a heel.You make love to me and kiss my sister. Do you think that's fair?But perhaps you were only practising. Youare a heel,Slim."
He said: "Clarissa, all's fair in love and war. Didn't youknow?"
"That's all right," said Clarissa. "But were you and I in loveor having a war? You needn't worry, Slim. I've had the idea thatyou were leading me up the garden path, using me as a sort of'stooge.' That's what they call it, isn't it?"
Callaghan said: "Clarissa, I think you're fine. I wanted toget you working on my side, and I just didn't know the best wayto do it. I thought that was a good approach."
"I see," said Clarissa. "I suppose Audrey's working for youtoo... only in her case the approach has got to be a little morepassionate. What do I have to do to get kissed like that? I thinkit's lucky I haven't got any more sisters."
Callaghan said: "You didn't waylay me to tell me allthis?"
She shook her head.
"No," she said, "I didn't. I wanted to ask you something andI'd be rather obliged if you'd tell me the truth. That was allnonsense, wasn't it, that stuff you told me about merely havingan idea about Blaize and about your thinking that he hadn'tanything to do with the burglary? You're worried about Blaize,aren't you, Slim?"
He nodded.
"Just about as much as you are, Clarissa," he said. "I knewyou were putting on an act that night I went over to his cottagebehind the Yard Arm and found you and Esme there. I guessed whyyou were stringing along with Esme. I realised that you weren't anatural gooseberry..."
"You were right," she said, "I was frightened for her. She'sso silly. Esme's always been thebloodiest fool,Slim."
"That's what I think," said Callaghan. "And you've got somenews for me?"
She said: "Yes, I've got some news for you. Ever since you'vebeen away I've been snooping about, keeping an eye on Esme and onher post as we arranged. She's had no letters ofimportance—at least nothing that was posted in thiscounty—but this evening while you and Audrey were indulgingin the summer-house somebody came through from Exeter. Theywanted Esme. I happened to be in the hall, so I went quickly intoDaddy's room where there's an extension from the hall phone. Ilistened in."
Callaghan lit a cigarette.
"This sounds as if it might be interesting."
"It isvery interesting," said Clarissa, "and ratherworrying. It was a man. He didn't shout or anything like that,but he sounded terribly angry. He told Esme he wanted to talk toher, that the time had come for a show-down. He said she was tomeet him as usual at half-past eleven tonight, that if she didn'tturn up there was going to be a lot of trouble. I didn't like thesound of him a bit," Clarissa concluded.
Callaghan said: "I shouldn't worry about the sound of people'svoices. Words don't hurt very much. Do you know where the 'usualplace' is?"
Clarissa shook her head.
"I don't," she said. "I didn't even know there'd been a usualplace. I didn't know that Esme had been meeting anybody. Whyshould she want to meet anybody surreptitiously?"
Callaghan grinned.
"Why does any woman meet any man surreptitiously?" hesaid.
Clarissa said: "Do you know who the man is?"
"I can make a good guess," said Callaghan.
She put her hand on his arm. She said:
"You know, Slim, you've deluded me, but I'm inclined to trustyou. There's something about you I really like. Promise mesomething—you won't let anything happen to Esme, will you?I'dhate anything to happen to her."
Callaghan said: "Don't you worry. I'll try and take care ofEsme. I'm learning to be the Santa Claus of this family."
She said: "Like hell you are!—and I learned that fromWindy, too. Anyway," she said, "it's probably the first and thelast time, but I want payment for my information, and when I saypayment, I mean just that. You owe me a lot, Slim. You got thatWindy person to tell me a lot of rubbish about you beingfearfully attracted by me and I fell for it like aschoolgirl. You've probably ruined my life anyway. I might evengo into a nunnery or something at any moment."
She came up close to him. She said:
"Mr. Callaghan, I think I've got something in my eye. Will youlook, please?"
Callaghan said: "Clarissa, there's something damned nice aboutyou. If it wasn't for Audrey..."
"To blazes with Audrey," said Clarissa. "Audrey can look afterherself. Just let yourself go for a minute, will you, and don'tbring up other women when you're supposed to be kissing me."
After a minute she said: "Is there anything else you want meto do?"
"I don't think so," said Callaghan. "You've done a good job,Clarissa."
"All right," she said. "Only remember... I'm relying on you...I expect Audrey is too... look after Esme..."
She went back to her door.
"I think you're rather nice, Slim," she said. "I know you'refearfully stuck on Audrey. I can understand it too... If I were aman I'd be stuck on her. She's got something, hasn't she... youknow..."
She made a face at him and closed the door.
AT nine o'clock Callaghan went into the smoking-room on thefirst floor. He rang the bell and sent for Nikolls. When Nikollsarrived Callaghan said:
"Listen to this, Windy: I've got an idea that to-night,possibly about eleven, Esme's going out to keep an appointmentwith somebody. I'd rather like to be there or anyway in theneighbourhood. The devil of it is I don't know where theappointment is."
Nikolls said: "What the hell! It can't be far away. Where doyou keep appointments around here anyway?"
Callaghan said: "Quite. So this appointment's either got to bein a place like Kingsbridge or some place you get to by car, orit's going to be local. The best thing for you to do is to keepyour eye on the garage. It'll be fairly dark by that time, and ifyou hang about in that thicket on the far side of the lawn youcan see the garage doors. If Esme takes the car out, you've gotto go after her. When she gets to wherever she's going to you cantelephone me."
"O.K.," said Nikolls. "An' supposin' this date is a localdate?"
Callaghan said. "The same thing applies. But if it's a localdate the obvious place to have such a date is somewhere in thegrounds here—at the back of the house. There are plenty ofplaces to meet. There's that stretch of cliffs along by thesea—an ideal place. I'll keep my eye on the gardens andterraces," said Callaghan. "I can do that from the balcony. Butdon't lose her if she goes out your way. I want to find wherethat girl's going to."
"All right," said Nikolls. "I'll watch her plenty."
Callaghan said: "There's just a chance that Lancelot Vendaynemay be hanging around here to-morrow or the day after. Lancelotdoesn't like me very much. He got an anonymous note fromsomebody. He showed it to me. The note said that Lancelot was amug. It also said that even if he had inherited the Vendaynejewellery he would have found that it was worth about fortypounds."
Nikolls said: "For cryin' out loud! You don't mean to tell methat we've been chasin' around after some stuff that's worthabout two hundred dollars?" His eyebrows went up. "Say, whatabout that insurance claim!"
Callaghan was grinning.
"It's a nice situation," he said. "But Lancelot isn't going tolike it. I've got an idea in my head that the only thing Lancelotcares about is money, and when he thinks he's not going to getwhat he thought was coming to him, he's going to turn damn'nasty."
"Yeah," said Nikolls. "And Audrey wouldn't like that, wouldshe?"
He grinned sardonically at Callaghan.
Callaghan said: "Windy, you're a fool. You're still harping onthat old theory of yours about Audrey. You just don't know howwrong you are."
"Maybe," said Nikolls.
Callaghan said: "All right. Keep your eyes skinned and don'tmiss anything. I'll be seeing you."
He went out.
THE moon came up from behind a cloud. Callaghan, seated on thebalcony outside the dining-room French windows, could see thelawns and terraces plainly in the silver light. He looked at hiswatch. It was eleven-thirty. He swore softly under his breath,lit a cigarette, went through the dining-room into the corridorand out by the side door near the garage. He stood there in theshadows smoking.
Five minutes passed. Callaghan could hear the sound of anapproaching car coming up the drive. He walked into themoonlight. Nikolls braked the car to a standstill at hisside.
"Not so hot, Slim," he said. "That little so-an'-so ditchedme. Around ten past eleven she came out to the garage an' got hercar out. I gave her a start an' went after her. Believe me shewas goin' some. About two miles away I found her bus parked bythe side of the roadway. But no Esme!"
Callaghan said: "That's all right. Maybe she has an ideasomeone was going after her. Which direction did she take? Wheredid you find the car?"
"She took one of the secondary roads, leadin' off to the left,in the direction of Gara," said Nikolls. "I reckon if she wasgoin' on on foot she was goin' across country. She had to be. Idrove down the road for a coupla miles more an' there wasn't asign of her."
"All right," said Callaghan. "Put the car away and stayput."
He went back into the house. He found Audrey in the drawing-room. She was sitting at the writing table playing patience. He said:
"You ought to be in bed. You look tired. Why don't you call ita day?"
"I am tired," she said. "But I don't want to go to bed. I feelI shouldn't sleep. Do you want something?"
"Yes," said Callaghan. "I want to know what Esme usually doeswith her spare time. Does she ever go for walks? If she does, hasshe got a favourite walk?"
She said: "Esme used not to like walking. But she's done morewalking during the last few months than ever before. I've seenher going along the cliffs towards Gara quite often. Sometimes inthe evening."
Callaghan asked: "Do you think she'd be going to Gara? Orwould she be going to some place between Gara and Margraud?"
"I don't see why she should go to Gara," said Audrey. Shebegan to stack the patience cards. "There's only the hotel atGara and the golf course on the other side of the hill. Besides,between here and Gara is a deep cleft in the cliff—a alongone. It's quite wide where it runs into the sea and you have towalk right round the far end. That means climbing. I can'tvisualise Esme taking the trouble to walk uphill round the cleft,when, if she wanted to go to Gara, she could so easily go byroad."
"Thanks," said Callaghan. "That's what I wanted to know."
She got up. She said:
"What's happening? Has Esme gone out? What is in your mind,please?"
Callaghan took out his cigarette-case. He offered her acigarette, lit it, and his own. She stood quite close to him,holding the cigarette limply between her fingers, watching hiseyes.
"Esme's ditched us," he said. "I knew she had a date withsomeone to-night at eleven-thirty. I particularly wanted to bepresent because I've an idea in my head that unless the personthat Esme intended to meet is dealt with in rather a tough wayhe's going to make a whole lot of trouble. I imagined that she'deither take her car, in which case I'd arranged for Nikolls to goafter her, or else, if the meeting-place was somewhere in thelocality, she'd go out through the grounds. I've been waiting tosee which thing she'd do. She got round the problem by taking outher car, driving like the devil for a couple of miles and leavingthe empty car on the roadside for Nikolls to catch up with."
She said: "It's quite awful... isn't it? I wish I knew what todo. I'm scared about her. And I don't know why. Canyoutell me?"
Callaghan grinned.
"I'll tell you what to do," he said. "You go to bed. Takethree Veganin tablets and count sheep going through a gate. Theytell me it works very well. Good-night."
He went out of the room.
She stood for a moment looking at the door after it had closedbehind him. Then she went back to the table and took up the packof cards. She began to play patience.
NIKOLLS was drinking whisky out of a hip flask when Callaghancame into his room. He said:
"Would you like a drink?"
He held up the flask.
Callaghan said: "I don't want a drink. I want a little action.Go down to the garage and get that car of yours. Drive over tothe Yard Arm and see what's going on there. There's just a chancethat Blaize hasn't gone yet. Even if he has there must be someonelooking after the Yard Arm. See what you can find out. And lookout for Esme."
Nikolls said: "O.K."
Callaghan went to his own room and got a hat. He wentdownstairs out of the side entrance, down the terrace steps,across the lawn at the bottom and out of the gate on the westside. He began to walk across the fields towards the footpaththat ran along the cliffs.
It was a fine night. The moon was up and walking was notunpleasant. Callaghan stepped out briskly. After a while he cameto the path that led along the cliff edge towards Gara. He walkedfor ten minutes, then stopped and looked at his watch. It wasnearly twelve o'clock.
He lit a cigarette and continued along the narrow path. A fewfeet away on his left was the cliff edge. Below he could hear thesea breaking against the rocks. He thought, with a sardonic grin,that the cliffs and beaches in these parts had been wreckers'grounds in the old days and that even if there weren't any morewreckers the technique had merely altered with the passing oftime.
On his right the ground sloped upwards towards the hills. Hebegan to curve round the cliff. Except for the crying of thegulls as they hovered over the sea the night was still. Callaghanbegan to think about gulls and concluded that the featheredspecimens were perhaps the luckiest.
He walked for another ten minutes before he saw Esme. She wassitting on a piece of cliff rock off the pathway on the hillside.Even before he was able to recognise her he knew it would beEsme.
She looked at him as he approached. Her face was pallid,terribly strained. Her large eyes peered at him questioningly.There were black circles beneath them, and in one hand he couldsee the screw-up ball of handkerchief.
He stopped walking and stood on the narrow footpath, lookingat her. He produced his cigarette-case, took out two cigarettes.He handed one to her. She took the cigarette mechanically and putit into her mouth. Her hand was trembling almost violently.
Callaghan lit her cigarette and his own, shading the flame ofthe lighter from the sea with his hand. He said:
"Well... what sort of a show-down was it? Tough, very tough,or just normal?"
She said in shaky voice: "I don't know what you mean. I don'twant to talk to you. I'm tired of you. I feel that most of thetime you're watching me trying to find things out. Why don't youleave me alone? You won't do any good."
Callaghan grinned. He sat down on the grass by her side. Hewas careful to look out to sea. It was quite obvious to him thatthe last thing that Esme desired was to be looked at.
He said: "I'm sure you're tired of me, but it's a feeling thatyou'll have to get over. As for not wanting to talk to me, that'sall right with me. If you don't want to talk—don't. What Iwant you to realise is that, having kept your nerve for so long,it's a damned silly proposition to lose it now. Even you mustrealise that there are other people to be considered. Besidesyour blackmailing friend—I mean."
Esme drew on her cigarette. He could see the end glowing. Shesaid:
"What other people should I consider?"
Callaghan grinned.
"You and I ought to stop fencing," he said. "It won't do youany good and it doesn't even amuse me. By 'other' people I meanyour father. You knew that anyway. It must be obvious to you thathe's got enough trouble as it is at the moment without you goingout of your way to make things worse."
She laughed. It was a small hard laugh meant to indicatecomplete indifference. Then she said in a voice that wassteadier:
"I don't care about anything else or any one else. I supposeit's fearfully selfish and cowardly, but I'm going to killmyself. After I've done that people can think what they like andblame me for everything. It's obviously the easiest way out of adifficult and quite ridiculous situation."
Callaghan grinned at her. He said coolly:
"Ridiculous is good! But that's all right by me. If you wantto kill yourself, you go ahead and do it. But killing yourselfwon't do any good to anybody except you, and it mightn't even doyou any good. Being dead is a lousy proposition and you'dprobably go on worrying afterwards."
He inhaled a mouthful of cigarette smoke with obviouspleasure. He allowed the smoke to trickle slowly out of pursedlips. There was quite a pause before he went on:
"And even if you do kill yourself and everybody is quiteprepared to blame you for everything... well, you might get somesort of a kick out of that, but it wouldn't alter the fact thatthe jewellery Blaize got was fake. There'd still have to bepost-mortems on that angle. It wouldn't make your passingout any easier to realise that the police would probably have toarrest your father in any event. Even if they thought that youwere responsible for the burglary, they'd know damned well thathe must have been the person who switched the jewellery..."
She said: "Oh, my God... I never thought of that..."
She made a hoarse sobbing noise.
Callaghan said softly: "That's the trouble with you. You neverthink of anything or anybody except yourself. You're a selfishlittle fool. Because you were short-circuited over making afirst-class damned fool of yourself with a good-looking fishermanfrom Beesands you have to get yourself in a mess, right up to theneck, with a cheap four-flusher like Blaize."
He inhaled some more smoke. He went on:
"Take a pull at yourself, Esme, and don't behave like aspoiled child. After all it must have been obvious to you whenBlaize told you—as I imagine he has done and not so longago—that the jewellery was fake—that he wasn't goingto let the matter end there. That boy's going to talk even if hesinks himself in doing it. He's annoyed. I'll bet he's veryannoyed."
"Hewas," said Esme. Her voice was almost shrill."God... was he angry! But he won't talk. He won't evertalk..."
Callaghan made a grimace.
"Don't you believe it," he said. "He'll talk all right. He'llhave to."
"He can't," said Esme. "He's dead... I killed him."
Callaghan looked at her quickly. She was looking out towardsthe sea. Her face was like a death mask.
He said quietly: "Hell... that was a damned silly thing to do.What did you do it for?"
"I didn't mean to," said Esme. "He brought one of thebracelets to show me. Apparently he'd kept that one. He'd sentthe rest of the jewellery away. He hadn't discovered that it wasall fake until the people who were supposed to cut up the stoneswrote and told him so. Then he examined the bracelet and found itwas true. He brought it to show me. I thought—quiteinsanely—that if I could get the bracelet—if hehadn't got any more of the jewels—he couldn't prove what hesaid. So I snatched it away from him and tried to run away."
She ran her tongue over her lips.
"We met by the cleft on the Gara side. We've always met there.It's been the place of some marvellous scenes—horrible,beastly scenes. When he came after me I ran towards the edge. Iintended to throw myself over with the bracelet. At that momentthe process seemed the obvious way out. As I reached the edge ofthe cleft—about ten or fifteen yards from the sea—hecaught hold of me. I struggled and fought. I pushed him over. Istood there for a minute and then I heard him cry out."
Callaghan said: "What did you do then?"
"I ran away," said Esme. "I began to run towards Gara. I stillhad the bracelet, but I was so frightened, somad that Idropped it. Presently I stopped and tried to think. I came backand tried to find the bracelet. I searched for a long time but Icouldn't find it. Then I began to walk home. I stopped herebecause I was tired."
She began to cry bitterly.
He shrugged his shoulders. After a minute he said:
"I wish you'd stop crying. It doesn't help. I'm trying tothink. Why the hell don't you stop being sorry for yourself andtry to pull yourself together. You make me feel sick."
She stopped crying. She said:
"You're a nice sympathetic sort of person, aren't you?"
"I don't believe in sympathy at the wrong time," saidCallaghan. "And this is the wrong time. There's no need to panic.There might still be a way out of this, but whoever finds it hasgot to be damnedgood. Tell me something..." he turnedtowards her. "....If you were running towards Gara, you droppedthat bracelet on the far side of the cleft, fairly near to it. Isthat right?"
"I imagine so," said Esme. "But I don'tknow. I don'tknow anything. And what does it matter, anyhow?"
Callaghan said: "You listen to me. You're a damned selfish bitof work and I don't like you a bit. Even so, with a bit of luckyou can get away with this. Not because you particularly deserveto but because it happens to suit my book."
Esme said: "What do you mean?"
There was a small note of interest in her voice.
"Listen to me," said Callaghan. "And listen hard. When youleave here and go home—which is what you're going to do ina minute—go straight to your room and don't talk to anyone. You understand? Just go to your room and lie on the bed andrelax, and then tell yourself this:
"You went to keep your appointment with Blaize tonight. Youwere frightened sick. You knew he was going to be tough. You knewhe was going to be tough because you knew weeks ago when you lethim into the house and he stole that jewellery it was fake.That's your story.The only reason that you let him intoMargraud to steal the jewellery was because you knew it wasworthless."
"But I didn't..." she muttered. "I didn't... I..."
"Of course you didn't," said Callaghan cynically. "Youintended to let Blaize steal the real stuff. That was his price,wasn't it, and you were prepared to pay for it... with somebodyelse's jewels?All right. Well, we don't have to tell 'emthat. We tell 'em my story. So listen and don't talk.
"To-night when you went to meet Blaize you knew there wasgoing to be one hell of a show-down. You knew that he would havefound out the jewellery was false. And you were prepared to standfor what happened. But when you got there and Blaize lost histemper and began to get tough you ran away. You had met him atthe top of the cleft and you began to run round the edge, towardsMargraud. You got round the edge all right and you could hear himcoming after you. You looked over your shoulder. Just as he wasrounding the edge of the cleft he slipped. The grass is wet andslippery. You saw him fall. You heard him yell. You fell down ina faint. When you came to you walked along here and sat downtrying to recover your nerve."
He got up. He stood looking down at her.
"That's your story. You stick to it and you'll be all right.There's no one can break it down because there's no one who saw.You've got to have the benefit of the doubt and all the factsleading up to the meeting in your favour. Well... are you goingto do it?"
She said: "Very well. I'll do what you say. I'll rememberthat. It's near enough to the truth anyway... except for thebracelet."
"Don't worry about that," said Callaghan. "Nobody's going tovisualize you struggling with Blaize for a worthless bit of goodslike that bracelet. Anyhow I hope to find it. I'm going to lookfor it... Now pull yourself together. Get up and go home. Whenyou get there be careful to give Audrey a miss. She'll probablybe hanging about the place waiting to talk to you. Go straight toyour room and get that story set in your mind."
Esme got up. She said:
"Very well. I'll do what you say." She smiled suddenly. Aquick curious smile. "You're a funny man, aren't you?" she said."Why are you taking all this trouble anyhow? What does it matterto you?"
Callaghan said roughly: "You mind your own damned business andget out of here. I'll see you when I get back, or to-morrow.Remember you've been a pretty fatuous sort of little idiot up todate. Try and square off the account by behaving yourself anddoing what you're told."
She nodded her head. She began to walk unsteadily along thefootpath towards Margraud.
Callaghan sat down on the stone and watched until she was outof sight.
After a while he took out his cigarette-case and lit his lastcigarette. He smoked it slowly. It lasted twenty minutes. Hestubbed the end out on the rock and began to curse fluently. Heused some very curious and definite words about Esme.
Then he got up, stretched himself and began to walk backtowards Margraud.
CALLAGHAN walked quietly along the corridoruntil he came to the door of Nikoll's bedroom. He turned thehandle quietly and went in. Inside the door he found the lightswitch, turned it on. He closed the door gently.
Nikolls was lying on his back. He was sleeping soundly. Analmost angelic smile wreathed his plump countenance. His mouthwas wide open.
Callaghan went over to the bed. He shook Nikolls's shoulder.He said:
"Wake up, Windy. And I wonder if any one has ever told you howawful you look when you're asleep."
Nikolls gave a grunt and awoke. He sat up in bed, rubbing hiseyes, trying to come back to earth.
He said: "Ain't it my luck? Ever since I been down here I beensleepin' bad. To-night I get a good sleep. I get around todreamin' of a dame with the swellest hips I ever saw in my lifean' I have ta get woke up. It ain't human. I wish you couldawaited another five minutes. Things was just gettin' interestin'with that dream dame...."
Callaghan said: "Get up and get dressed as quickly as you can,Windy. Then go round to the garage and see if you can find arope—a fairly long one."
"O.K.," said Nikolls. "What are we gonna do? Hangsomebody?"
"No," said Callaghan. He grinned cynically. "The execution hasalready taken place," he said.
Nikolls got out of bed. He was wearing pale blue pyjamas withred spots on them. He looked like a gigantic and ponderousinsect. He went over to the chest of drawers, found his whiskyflask and took a long pull, sighed and began looking for hisclothes.
Callaghan sat on the bed. He said:
"Did you find anything interesting at the Yard Arm? What aboutRopey?"
Nikolls sat down on a chair and began to pull on hissocks.
"Ropey's gone," he said. "Blaize ain't there either. I reckonyou was right about those two babies. They both took a quick run-out powder. Blaize had fixed the sale of the Yard Arm an' thecottage to some guy days ago—a guy named Wallers. Not a badsort of palooka."
He fixed a bright blue sock suspender round a calf that lookedlike a young tree trunk. Then he looked at Callaghan. He wasgrinning.
"This is where the story gets interestin'," he went on. "TheWallers guy tells me that Blaize has got out—to-day—an' that he reckons he's goin' abroad if he can get aboat to take him. He tells me that somebody else has been hangin'around tryin' to see Blaize an' that this somebody else come downin a car that was parked just inside the Yard Arm cottageorchard.
Wallers had told this bozo that he reckoned that Blaize wasgone but that he didn't sorta think he'd been gone long becauseBlaize's stuff had only been taken outa the cottage a few hoursago. So the guy with the car says he'll take a look around."
Nikolls got to his feet and took another pull at theflask.
He said: "I thought I'd take a look in at the cottage orchardjust to make certain, an' sure enough this guy's car was stillthere. He'd parked it under the trees—a big tourin'car—switched the lights off an' taken the ignition keyaway. There was a leather pocket in the side of the door on thedrivin' side an' I took a look inside. I found a drivin' licencean' did I laugh or did I. The drivin' licence was in the name ofGabriel Ventura. Does that add up to anythin'?"
Callaghan nodded. He said:
"It's working out. Having got Ropey out of the way, Gabby justhad to make sure that Blaize was gone. He had to make sure thathe was gone, or if he wasn't Gabby was going to try and do a dealwith him. I bet he was disappointed when he found that Blaize hadonly left an hour or so before."
He lit a cigarette.
"Did Blaize leave any message with Wallers before he left?" heasked. "Any instructions about forwarding mail?"
Nikolls shook his head.
"Nope," he said. "The only thing he said was that he was goin'an' that he might look back to see if anythin' came for him bythe late post. Well, he didn't go back, an' I'd like to knowwhy."
Callaghan blew two or three smoke-rings. He said:
"Blaize has been having a busy day. He went out to-night—after he'd left the Yard Arm—to meet Esme.They had the devil of a rough house. Blaize fell over the edge ofa cleft between here and Gara. That's why he didn't go back tocollect that mail. He's probably lying down at the bottomsomewhere. We'd better take a look at him."
"I see," said Nikolls. "Me... I don't want to beef or anythin'but I do think it's a bit tough to come out of a dream like I washavin' an' then haveta go an' look at what's left of fellas whohave fell over cliffs. Life's a scream, ain't it?"
He struggled into his trousers.
Callaghan went on: "You get that rope and go out the back wayover the far lawn and through the west gate. It's a fine nightand you can see easily. Take the path that runs along the cliffedge towards Gara. When you get to the cleft you'll have to gouphill and work round it. Don't try and find Blaize until I getthere."
"Oke!" said Nikolls. "What do I amuse myself doin' until youdo get there?"
"When you're on the Gara side of the cleft," said Callaghan,"you start a search for a bracelet. I don't know what sort of abracelet it is, but I should think you could find it if you lookhard enough. It will be fairly near the edge of the cleft on theside farthest from the sea. Concentrate on that job, Windy. Iwant that bracelet."
"If it's findable I'll find it," said Nikolls. "An' supposin'I've found it. What do I do then?"
"Just take a rest and smoke until I get along there," saidCallaghan. "Then we'll go into this business of discoveringwhat's left of Blaize."
"That suits me," said Nikolls.
He began to put on his waistcoat. He said ruminatively:
"It's funny Blaize fallin' over the cliff like that... hey?Would that be convenient or inconvenient?"
Callaghan said: "It might be convenient."
"Yeah," said Nikolls. "It ain't often that somethin' happensat a time you want it to, is it?" He lit a cigarette. "It wouldbe a yell if Esme had pushed that mug over, wouldn't it? An' Iwouldn't put it above her."
"I wouldn't worry about it," said Callaghan easily. "We don'thave to worry about how things happen. The fact that they happenis good enough. Besides we're working for the Vendaynefamily—not Blaize."
"I got that," said Nikolls. He grinned amiably at Callaghan."I hope the Vendayne family appreciates the fact. Maybe thosemugs don't know how lucky they are."
He went out quietly.
Callaghan walked down the corridor past Clarissa's door, pastthe next door—which was Audrey's—and stood listeningoutside the third door.
He could hear Esme crying quietly. Callaghan tapped gently onthe door, pushed it open and went in.
She was lying face downwards on the bed. Her shoulders wereshaking. She did not move when Callaghan closed the door.
He went over to the bedside and stood looking down at her. Hisexpression was almost contented. He said:
"Cut it out, Esme, and quieten down. I want to talk to you.And what are you crying for? Don't tell me that your heart'sbroken because you've lost your lord and master. If it's notthat, it's self-pity."
She moved her face away from the pillow and looked at himsideways. Her eyes were red-rimmed. Callaghan thought she lookedrather ugly.
She turned over on her back and swung her legs off the bed.She sat on the side of the bed looking at Callaghan. She said ina dull voice:
"Did you find the bracelet?"
"I haven't looked for it yet," said Callaghan. "I'm going backthere presently. Nikolls is on his way now. Also I want to have alook at Blaize. But the bracelet doesn't particularly matter atthe moment."
"I see," said Esme. "Whatdoes matter?"
Callaghan said: "The story I told you to get into your head isthe main thing. Have you done that?"
"Yes," said Esme. "I've gotthat in my head allright."
She got up and walked over to the dressing-table. She switchedon a light and began to do her face. The process seemed tointerest her. After a moment she drew up a chair and sat downbefore the mirror, using a lipstick with steady fingers.
Callaghan walked over to the corner of the room and picked upa chair. He carried it to the side of the dressing-table and satdown. He said:
"I suppose after you married Blaize in Malmesbury you realisedthat you'd made a fool of yourself. I suppose when you discoveredjust what sort of person he was you wanted to get rid ofhim."
"How did you know that?" said Esme.
She looked at him closely. Callaghan saw antagonism in hereyes.
"I knew you'd been to the Cape," he said. "I happen toremember Malmesbury. I wondered why Blaize's cottage should becalledMalmesbury. I suppose you'd call it a good guess onmy part, but then you see I know quite a lot about you."
"How nice for you," said Esme. Her voice was very nearlyinsolent. "And justwhat do you know."
Callaghan said coolly: "When a girl in your position is damnedfool enough and cheap enough to go chasing a young fisherman andhas to be sent off while the scandal blows over she's not likelyto develop intelligence quickly. I should imagine that one man isvery like another so far as you're concerned. You were justunlucky to pick on Blaize. He was too good for you. For once,instead of being the boss, you had to do what you weretold—and like it."
She nodded.
"I'm not very lucky about men," she said. "I certainly wasn'tvery lucky abouthim. He thought I had more money than Ihad. He wasn't very pleased with that."
Callaghan went on: "He followed you over here and took theYard Arm. I suppose he wanted to be in the neighborhood. Iimagine he's had most of your money."
She finished with the lipstick. She put it into a drawer andshut the drawer with a click.
"He's had all the money I had—and could get," she said."I was trying to buy him off. He said he'd let me divorce himquietly if..."
"If you could find enough money," said Callaghan. "And youcouldn't. So then the idea of his taking the Vendayne jewelssuggested itself to someone. Was that your idea or his?"
Esme looked at him. She was smiling faintly.
"That was my idea," she said. "And in point of fact it wasn'tquite so selfish as it might appear on the face of it. I thoughtit might be a very good thing for my father if the jewellery werestolen. I imagined he'd have the insurance money—or some ofit. I knew he wanted money."
Callaghan grinned.
"Killing two birds with one stone," he said. "The Major wouldhave a fit if he had heard you say that."
She shrugged her shoulders.
"I had no reason to believe he would ever know about it," shemurmured.
Callaghan lit a cigarette. He drew in a mouthful of smoke. Hewas watching her carefully.
"Before the idea of Blaize stealing the jewels suggesteditself to you," he said, "you had been giving him such money asyou had. I should think that wasn't very much. I imagine youtried to raise more... didn't you?"
"Yes," she said. "I tried everything I knew. But it wasn't anyuse. I couldn't get any."
Callaghan grinned.
"Not even from Lancelot?" he queried.
She looked at him sharply.
"How did you know I'd asked Lancelot?" she demanded.
"Just a guess," said Callaghan. "By the way, when you askedLancelot if he could lend you some money to give to Blaize, youdidn't by any chance tell him what the position was between youand Blaize? You didn't tell him that you were married toBlaize?"
Esme nodded.
"Yes, I did," she said. "I had to tell him something. He sworehe'd never tell any one. He said he'd do anything he could toraise some money for me. He tried, but he couldn't manageit."
Callaghan said nothing for a moment. Then he began to grinhappily.
"That suits me very well," he said. He got up. "Just stick tothe story I told you, Esme," he said. "Maybe you won't ever haveto tell it. But there's just a chance that a Detective-InspectorWalperton, who's in charge of the burglary, might want to asksome questions. I don't think he will but hemight."
He walked to the door.
"If I were you I'd go to bed and get a really good sleep," hesaid.
She looked at him over her shoulder.
"You're very funny, aren't you?" she murmured. "As if I couldsleep to-night."
Callaghan smiled at her.
"Why not?" he asked. "You don't mean to tell me that a littlething like a dead husband is going to keepyou awake!"
He closed the door gently behind him.
IT was two o'clock when Callaghan reached the cleft. He workedup the hill and round the end of the cleft. He found Nikollsseated behind a grassy mound, smoking a cigarette.
Callaghan said: "How about the bracelet?"
"Search me," replied Nikolls. "I've been over every bit of theground with a tooth-comb—as the old lady said—but ifthere's a bracelet around here it's hidin'."
"All right," said Callaghan. "Relax. When you've finished thatcigarette you can start looking some more. That bracelet has tobe round here."
"Supposin' it is," said Nikolls. "It's no good—is it? Itwon't do any mug who finds it any good."
Callaghan grinned.
"I wouldn't want Walperton to find it," he said. "Esme wasrunning away from Blaize with that bracelet in her hand when hefell over the edge—that's our story anyhow."
"I see," said Nikolls. "An' you won't need that rope. If youstart climbin' down the cleft from the hill end it's easy. It'sonly the part around here that's steep. An' if Blaize was runnin'after Esme he'd have to be runnin' round the cleft edge up thehill, an' so he'd have to fall an' bounce a bit an' he'll be atthe bottom atthat end. That's logic, ain't it?"
"It's reasonable," said Callaghan.
He began to walk up the rising ground towards the end of thecleft.
The moon was full. On the hillside it was almost as light asday. Callaghan, after a long look over the cleft edge, began toclimb down the incline of rocks and earth that led down to thebeach below. As he progressed the way grew less steep, and aftera while the climb became almost easy. Callaghan began to thinkabout Esme. He began to wonder.
At last he arrived at the bottom. The walls of the cleftrising on each side of the thirty-foot space in which Callaghanstood, cast black shadows over the sandy rock-strewn ground.Callaghan looked about him in the half-darkness. There was nosign of Blaize.
After a moment Callaghan stopped looking. He lit a cigaretteand began to walk towards the sea. As he walked the cleft widenedand visibility became more easy.
Twenty feet or so from the end of the cleft, on the Gara side,Callaghan found Blaize. He was lying across a rock that was half-submerged in the sand. His face, white and distorted, witheyes wide open, showed plainly against the dark background of theshadows. His body, twisted peculiarly, told of a broken back.
Callaghan knelt down. He opened the dead man's coat and beganto search through the pockets. He found nothing until he put hisfingers into the inside jacket pocket.
He smiled and withdrew his hand. In it was the bracelet.
Callaghan, walking carefully over the rocky edges at thecleft-side, so as to leave no unnecessary foot-marks, made hisway to the top of the beach. He looked at the bracelet in themoonlight. It consisted of twenty peculiarly cut rubies, mountedin antique gold settings, joined by tiny diamond clasps. Herealised, after a moment's examination, that thediamonds—which were of the "splinter" type and of littleintrinsic value—were real, that the rubies were merelyexcellent imitations.
He stood, looking at the sea, twisting the bracelet in hisfingers, thinking. Then he threw away his cigarette, returned tothe spot where Blaize lay and replaced the bracelet in the breastpocket of the dead man's jacket. Then he walked back to the endof the cleft and began to climb up the incline.
He climbed carefully, looking about him. Halfway up, on theGara side of the cleft, separated from the incline whichCallaghan was climbing by some fifty feet, and situated aboutfifteen feet from the top of the cleft, was a ledge. Callaghannoted its position carefully. He resumed his climb.
Arrived at the top, he found Nikolls gloomily considering apair of gulls.
"I've been over the ground again, Slim," he said, "an' I'mtellin' you there ain't any bracelet around here. Either that orI'm losin' my eyesight."
Callaghan said: "Your eyesight's all right, Windy. Thebracelet was below. I found it."
"How come?" said Nikolls. "Bracelets can't walk."
Callaghan grinned.
"You've said something, Windy," he said. "They can't."
Nikolls fumbled in his coat pocket for a cigarette.
"You got it, Slim?" he asked.
Callaghan shook his head.
"I left it where it was," he said. "In Blaize's pocket. Hisback's broken. He must have died right away. He won't worry anyone any more... not so they'll notice it, anyhow."
"That's O.K.," said Nikolls. "But I thought that Esme had tohave that bracelet. I thought it was bad evidence if the copsfound it."
"I've changed my opinion about that," said Callaghan. "I thinkI'd rather like 'em to find it. In fact I'm going to take damnedgood care they do find it. Come on, Windy, let's get back."
They began their walk back to Margraud. When they werecrossing the lawn at the back of the house Callaghan said:
"I'm leaving for London in an hour or two—about fiveo'clock. The roads will be clear and I can get a move on. I'llprobably stop at Exeter and have a talk with the Major. It's timesomeone talked to the old boy. Anyhow, he'll have to come backinto circulation fairly soon."
Nikolls grinned.
"Yeah?" he said. "If you talk to him an' tell him about Esmean' that stiff Blaize an' a few other things that've beenhappenin' around here he'll probably blow up altogether and handin his dinner pail. I reckon he won't be so pleased to hear aboutlittle Esme havin' moonlight meetin's with the boy friend alongthe cliffs. Maybe it won't sound so moral to the old guy."
"It was moral enough," said Callaghan. "Esme was Blaize'swife."
Nikoll's eyebrows went up.
"You don't say?" he said. "It just shows you, don't it? Maybethey'd better've let little Esme have her fun an' games with theblue-eyed cod trapper from Beesands. Is that baby a mug or isshe? I s'pose Blaize told her a bunch of fairy stories, an'bounced her into a quick seance at the register office with oneeye on the family plate. Nice work if you can get it."
Callaghan said: "It didn't work out so well for him."
He stopped on the terrace to light a cigarette. He wenton:
"I shan't be in London for long, Windy. And here'syourend. First thing in the morning you take a walk along the cliffsand youdiscover Blaize's body. I saiddiscover.Then you get right over to Kingsbridge and report to the policethat you've found it. You don't know anything about it at all.You don't know who Blaize is or what he was doing. All right.It's going to take the Kingsbridge police a couple of days to geta post-mortem done and identification. Have you got that?"
"I got it," said Nikolls.
"Then the day afterwards you go dashing over to Kingsbridgeagain. You tell 'em that Esme has told you all about it and whathappened. She knows her story and she'll stick to it for her ownsake. They'll probably send an officer over to Margraud to seeher. I say probably because maybe, in the meantime, I can fixsomething in London that will short-circuit police inquiries downhere."
"Supposin' Walperton comes kickin' around in the meantime?"asked Nikolls. "Or suppose he sends some other guy down to checkon Blaize over at the Yard Arm?"
"That's all right," said Callaghan. "What can they find out?Ropey's gone. If Walperton's sent someone down they'll have toget in touch with him for further instructions."
"An' in the meantime you're gonna pull another one on thatsucker," said Nikolls. "This guy Walperton is gonna just love youbefore you're through on this job."
Callaghan grinned.
"The joke is he probably will," he said. "We'll see."
"O.K.," said Nikolls. "An' what about the bracelet? Wasn'tthat important?"
"Leave the bracelet out of it," said Callaghan. "Esme can tellthe truth about it if she likes. The bracelet is all right. I'vegot an idea about that."
They had reached the house. Callaghan said:
"You can go fishing at Slapton all the rest of the time if youlike. This case is almost over—bar the shouting."
Nikolls sighed.
"That's all right by me," he said. "I never did think much ofthis case. I wonder..."
"What do you wonder?" asked Callaghan.
Nikolls said: "Last night an' the night before I didn't takean indigestion tablet and I had two lousy nights. To-night I tookone an' I had one helluva dream about that baby with the swellhips. I got a big idea."
"I'll buy it," said Callaghan.
Nikolls grinned at him. "I'm gonna taketwo of themtablets when I get upstairs," he said. "Maybe I'll dream abouttwo honeys. Would that be a scream or would it? So long, Slim.I'll be seein' you...."
He went swiftly up the staircase like a plump cat.
CALLAGHAN switched on the torch he found in the hallway andinvestigated the lower regions of Margraud. He found the kitchen,the range, a kettel, crockery and a teapot. It took five minutesto unearth the tea.
He put the kettle on the gas range, arranged the teacups onthe table and went upstairs. He walked softly along the bedroomcorridor and listened outside Esme's door. He heard nothing. Hemoved along to the next door. A gleam of light showed beneath it.Callaghan tapped softly.
A moment passed and the door opened. Audrey stood framed inthe lighted doorway. She wore a tailored dressing robe of whitespotted red silk with a red sash. Her dark hair, tied with aribbon, accentuated the whiteness of her face.
Callaghan smiled at her. He said very softly:
"You look marvellous. Most of the women I've seen in dressing-gowns look like sacks with a string round the middle.When I'm an old gentleman I shall remember how you looked to-night."
She smiled in spite of herself. She said as quietly:
"Did you come here to tell me that?"
"Not exactly," said Callaghan. "You and I have got to talk.It's important. I'm leaving in an hour or so and we've got toarrange things first. I've put the kettle on in the kitchen. Ihad an idea that you're going to need some tea."
She said: "So it's going to be as bad as that?"
"Yes," said Callaghan. "Butonly as bad as that. Itcould be a lot worse. In fact"—he smiled again—"witha little fan-dangling—as Nikolls would say—I think wecan fix things. If we play itmy way. D'you think you'dlike to do that?"
"I've got to," said Audrey. "Candidly, I don't quite know justwhat Iought to do about anything. I don't know enough. Ifyou mean do I trust you or not, I can only say I don't know. ButI've got to trust somebody, so I might as welltry andtrust you... mightn't I?"
"That'll do," said Callaghan. "It's a start anyway. Let's goand get tea."
CALLAGHAN put his cup down and produced his cigarette-case. Hetook out two cigarettes, handed one to Audrey, lit them both. Hegot up and leaned against the dresser.
She sat on the other side of the kitchen table. Her eyes, alittle sleepy but curious, watched him. Callaghan thought: "Iwonder is she thinking about what I'm going to tell her orwondering about me—or both. I hope she feels as curiousabout me as I do about her."
He said: "This is where you bite on the bullet, Audrey,because some of it isn't going to be quite so good. First of all,let me tell you one or two things about the Vendayne family."
He blew a smoke-ring with care; watched it until it dissolved.He went on:
"Clarissa is rather sweet. A trifle wild but straight. You'rea dear. You're a little stuck up, a little too proud, but you'requite honest and I'm terribly taken with the way your mouth curlsup at the end when you smile and the way that your clothes fityou. Esme is a damned little fool who is naturally dishonest.She's as selfish as the devil and quite reckless. Your father isa dear old boy who ought to be spanked and stood in the corner.If he wasn't your father I'd say he was a damned fool. I thinkyou'll agree with that anyway.
"Lancelot, your cousin, is just a plain ordinary sonofabitch.He hasn't enough guts to be crooked—even to get somethinghe wants—but he has enough brains to create—or helpcreate—situations. So much for the family."
He blew another smoke-ring. Audrey watched him; her eyes,wider and less sleepy now, never left his face. Callaghanrealised that she was one of those women who can look at youwithout blinking.
"I don't know how much or how little you know about Esme,"said Callaghan. "But I do know that both you and Clarissa were abit worried about Esme and this fellow Blaize. I suppose youthought it might be a repetition of the Beesands fishermanbusiness; but in any event Clarissa tried to do her best to stopany eventualities by tagging along and playing gooseberry whenshe could. It was a good effort, but she might have saved herselfthe trouble. People like you and Clarissa will never be quite asclever, or smart, as people like Esme and Blaize. That's becauseyou two girls are essentially honest and Esme and Blaizeessentially dishonest.
"When I went over and saw the two girls at Blaize's cottagethe first night I got down here, I noticed the place was called"Malmesbury." I remembered that there was a little place calledMalmesbury near Cape Town. It struck me as a coincidence. Icabled an associate of mine over there and got a check up onBlaize. Esme married him in Malmesbury the day before she sailedfor England. He came over three weeks afterwards."
She said: "My God... how terrible. What is Blaize?"
"Blaize was a nasty bit of work," said Callaghan. "He was aspecialist in women. He was attractive to people like Esme. Hisline was to make love to a woman and then collect what he couldfrom her and clear out.
"Esme was just what Blaize was looking for. He married herbecause he thought that was the best way to make a really goodclean-up and because the Cape was getting too hot to hold him. Ibelieve the police want him on two or three charges for whichthey've been trying to get evidence for years. It's always damneddifficult to get evidence against people like Blaize. You neverget a prosecutor willing to go through with it, mainly becausethe prosecutors are usually women and they can't bear the idea ofstanding in a witness-box and practically telling the world thatthey've been foolish enough to be mistress to the marcelled,patent-haired cheat in the dock. That's why people like Blaizeusually get away with it.
"He thought that she had a lot of money. Esme probably allowedhim to think what he liked. She wanted to marry somebody. Shecouldn't marry the fisherman so she bounced back on to Blaize. Hewas masculine and virile and attractive. He belonged to thatpeculiar type that's obviously lousy and yet manages to get quitenice women to fall for it."
Audrey nodded. She said slowly:
"I can visualize Esme doing all that. It's what she would do.She's like that."
Callaghan said: "I'm not going into details because I haven'tgot time. I want to be in London as soon as I can manage it. Verywell. Blaize has been getting such money as he could from Esme.She paid, first of all because she'd discovered what sort of aman he was and she didn't want her family to know what an utterfool she'd made of herself, and secondly because he'd told herthat if she paid he'd allow her to divorce him. Naturally, hewanted more money than she had.
"Eventually," continued Callaghan, "things came to a head.Blaize was getting tough about money. Esme tried to raise moneywhere she could. She even tried Lancelot. She told Lancelot thetruth about herself and Blaize. Lancelot, naturally, didn'tsupply any money. He hadn't got it. Lancelot's broke.
"So Esme made a bargain with Blaize. She was to let him intoMargraud, give him the combination of the safe and allow him tosteal the jewellery. I must say she thought that the robberymight be of help to your father. She thought the mortgage onMargraud wasn't paid and she thought that it could be paid withthe money he'd get from the Insurance Company.
"When Lancelot heard about the burglary he put two and twotogether and came to the right conclusion. He guessed that Esmewas behind the steal. But it didn't matter to him. He was quitecontent to take three-quarters of the insurance money, leave yourfather with the odd twenty-five thousand and call it a day. Buthe wanted the claim paid. That's why he forced your father tobring me into the case. I was the fellow who was to put the screwon the company."
Audrey said softly: "This is all quite terrible... quiteawful...."
Callaghan said: "This is nothing. Just wait a minute."
"But," she said, "I didn't know the mortgage was paid off.Clarissa didn't know. How was that done? Who paid it off? Myfather couldn't..."
Callaghan said: "Let's leave that for the moment. We haven'tgot time for all that."
He lit another cigarette.
"Blaize and Esme had a meeting to-night," Callaghan went on."There was a quarrel and Blaize fell over the edge of the cleftbetween here and Gara. His back's broken. He's dead, which is adamned good thing in one way because it simplifies matters."
She seemed stupefied. She put her hands over her face.Callaghan could see her fingers trembling.
"Take it easy, Audrey," he said. "Worse things happen atsea."
She took her hands away from her face.
"Go on," she said. "I'm all right... but... but... d'you thinkthat Esme... ?"
"Do I think that Esme pushed Blaize over?" said Callaghan."Candidly I did think so... but I'm not worrying aboutthat now. I don't think the point matters. Anyway, Blaizegot what was coming to him.
"Don't worry about Esme and Blaize," Callaghan continued."Nikolls will look after that end. I've had a talk with Esme to-night and she knows just what she has to do. I don't thinkyou'll be worried with the police. I've fixed things so that Iget a day or two to do what I want to do. When I come back I hopewe can clean up the mess. I've got an idea we can."
She smiled suddenly.
"You mean you have an ideayou can," she said. "Ihaven't been very much use up to date, have I? You and I seem tohave spent our time quarrelling."
"That doesn't matter," said Callaghan. "I hope we'll have anopportunity to quarrel again one day... a really nicequarrel."
"What am I to do?" she asked. "When are you coming back? Whatdo you want me to do?"
Callaghan looked at his watch.
"Believe it or not," he said, "it's nearly five o'clock. I'mgoing to have a shower, change my clothes and get out of here. Ishall be at Exeter by eight. You've got to get through to thenursing home and arrange for me to see your father at eight-thirty —that gives me time for breakfast. I've got tosee him, otherwise he may find himself in a bad spot. Also I wantto know where the nursing home is."
She told him. Callaghan said:
"All right. Now you go back to bed and get three hours' sleep.Telephone through at eight and tell 'em I shall be there ateight-thirty. And don't worry."
She got up. She said:
"I'm terribly grateful to you. Ido trust you. I evenbelieve that you'll manage to straighten out all this beastlybusiness. God knows why you should take all this trouble."
Callaghan grinned. He said:
"I've three reasons. The first, you didn't like privatedetectives. You practically said so in that club in ConduitStreet. D'you remember? I wanted you to change your opinion.Secondly, I was paid two hundred and fifty pounds by Layne to dothis job."
She said: "You've forgotten the third reason?"
Callaghan said: "No, I haven't. And I don't have to tell youwhat it is. You know."
She blushed.
She said: "You're an extraordinary person, Mr. Callaghan. Onemight get used to you in time. I wonder if you know what Imean?"
"No," said Callaghan. "Do you?"
She smiled.
"Strangely enough I believe I do," she said.
Callaghan grinned.
"Go to bed. I'll be back in a day or two. Good-night."
She got up.
"Good-night," she said. "And thank you. Once again I'm verygrateful."
"Don't be silly," said Callaghan. "You know you don't have tobe grateful. You know it because you know I'd do any damned thingfor you and you're beginning to realise that you like knowingit."
He went out.
UPSTAIRS in her room, she waited until she heard the car leavethe garage.
Then she sat on the edge of her bed and tried to thinkclearly, to sort things out. After a few minutes she gave up theprocess.
She discovered that logical thought was not possible. Nomatter what line of thought came to her she found Callaghan'sface, his sardonic smile, his absolutecertainty of theshape of events obtruded.
She decided to think about Callaghan and found that mucheasier.
CALLAGHAN came into the bedroom and put his haton a chair. He looked cheerful. He leaned up against themantelpiece grinning at Major Vendayne, who regarded him withunhappy and curious eyes.
Callaghan said: "I suppose Audrey has been through on thetelephone. Did you speak to her?"
Vendayne nodded.
"What did she tell you?" Callaghan demanded.
"Not very much, Mr. Callaghan," said the invalid. "She saidyou were coming here. She said that she'd decided you were atrustworthy person."
Callaghan's grin broadened.
"Well, that's something," he said. "Now listen, Major. Thedoctor tells me that you're not to be worried, so I'm going tomake this as short and sweet as I can. Just believe what I sayand don't argue. Not that you've anything to argue about."
Vendayne said: "Very well, I understand. I wonder if you knowwhat a fool I've been."
Callaghan said: "I can make a good guess, but I don't knowthat it matters an awful lot."
He lit a cigarette.
"When I started on this case," he said, "I was very interestedin that mortgage on Margraud. I was even more interested by thefact that you'd been able to pay it off, and within a few months.I had to make some guesses—I couldn't ask you; you werehere and things were moving too quickly for me to come over. AlsoI didn't think you'd be inclined to tell me the truth at thattime."
The Major looked up at the ceiling. After a moment hesaid:
"Why do you think that I shall be prepared to tell you thetruthnow?"
"You've got to," said Callaghan. "You're in a jam and you knowit." He inhaled cigarette smoke. "The funny thing about this caseis that there are two points of view that can be taken about theactions of practically every one concerned. I'm rather keen ongetting over the points of view I want. If by some chanceScotland Yard succeeds in proving the other points of view itisn't going to be too good for you, for Lancelot, for Esme andfor the Vendayne family generally. So let's get down to brasstacks.
"I believe," Callaghan went on, "that you put most of youravailable capital into some wild-cat scheme of LancelotVendayne's. Both you and he were certain that that sharescheme—whatever it was—was going to come off. Youwanted to spend money on Margraud, and you were so certain theLancelot business was going to come off that you mortgaged theplace. You imagined you'd be worth a lot of money within a fewmonths.
"Well, it didn't come off. You were in a jam. Quite a largelump of your income which had been produced by your originalcapital was gone and you were faced with a £20,000 mortgage plussix per cent interest. Right?"
Vendayne nodded gloomily.
"That's right," he said.
"You were in a bad spot," Callaghan went on. "You didn't knowwhat to do, but I've an idea that someone made a suggestion. I'vean idea that somebody got in touch with you—somebody fromLondon—and suggested that they might be prepared to giveyou a hand out of your difficulties. The reason this personprobably gave was that he too had been taken in by the Lancelotscheme. He'd lost his money but he wasn't in such difficulties asyou were. He rather sympathised with you.
"Of course you were pretty fed up with Lancelot, but youdidn't say anything to Audrey because you had an idea that shemight be going to marry Lancelot. Afterwards—when shedecided she wasn't going to marry him—you were too worriedand scared of the situation to want to discuss it with anyone.
"Anyhow," Callaghan went on, "your benefactor lent you thetwenty thousand. You had no security to offer him, so he had anidea. He suggested to you that you hand over to him the Vendaynejewellery—that he'd keep it until you'd repaid the twentythousand. He suggested that, in the meantime, just for thebenefit of those people who came to see the collection in glasscases when it was on view, he would replace the originaljewellery with first-class replicas.
"Well, you accepted the proposition, and why not? You weren'tdoing anybody any harm. So long as you could pay that twentythousand back in your lifetime you thought you'd be able to getthe jewellery back again. To your mind the deal was not dishonestbecause in fact it was at the moment hurting no one. What youdidn't realise was that the individual who lent you that £20,000was quite prepared to kiss the money good-bye,because henever intended to return the jewellery."
The Major said nothing. He looked at Callaghan inamazement.
"The trouble with people like you, Major," said Callaghan, "isthat you trust people. You believe—because life has nevertaught you anything different—that people are as honest asyou are. When you were told that the jewellery would be returnedwhen you repaid the twenty thousand, plus whatever rate ofinterest was agreed on, you believed that.
"But youdidn't realise that your benefactor had youwhere he wanted you immediately he lent you the money and tookover the jewellery. Even if you'd gone along with the twentythousand in your hand you wouldn't have got the jewellery. Andthen what could you have done? You couldn't have gone to thepolice and complained. You'd made yourself an accessory to anillegal transaction."
Vendayne said grimly: "What a fool I've been."
"The point is," Callaghan went on, "that the individual wholent you the twenty thousand never expected to be repaid. Hebelieved that you were not long for this earth and that you'dprobably die before you had a chance to repay the money. ThenLancelot would have gone rushing around trying to get his handson £100,000 worth of jewellery to which he was entitled under theoriginal deed and which he was also entitled to sell—if hewanted to sell it.
"But there wouldn't be any jewellery and Lancelot wouldn't getit until he'd done what your benefactor had made up his mind hewas going to do. I doubt," said Callaghan with a grin, "ifLancelot would have got it even then."
He stubbed out the end of his cigarette, lit a fresh one. Hesaid:
"Well, then, things went from bad to worse. Somebody stole theVendayne jewellery. At least they stole the imitations. You cantake it from me that Lancelot wasn't particularly surprised tohear about that burglary—he was rather expecting it. Hecould have made one guess as to who was really responsible andbeen right. But the situation was perfect so far as he wasconcerned. So he dashed down to Margraud and made a deal with youthat seemed, on the face of it, generous. When the InsuranceCompany paid, you were to get £25,000, and he was to take thebalance of £75,000. The devil of it was that the InsuranceCompany didn't pay. They didn't like the burglary or anythingabout it. So they stalled.
"You would probably never have put that claim in. Lancelot wasthe person who forced that issue, and you had to stand for it.You couldn't tell Lancelot or anybody else what you'd done.
"All right," said Callaghan. "Now the situation's not half asbad as it seems. There are three or four points that we have toworry about. But you and I at this moment are only concerned withtwo of those points. The first concerns the Insurance Company.Well, I think I ought to tell you that we don't have to worryabout them because your solicitor has withdrawn the claim on thegrounds that I have a very good idea where that jewellery is andthat we feel we may get it back. The Insurance Company aren'tworrying for another reason. Before I went down to Margraud inthe first place I saw the Sphere & International arranged torepresent them too. They know me—I've worked for associatesof theirs before. So that situation is all right.
"The second point concerns the police. As you know, ScotlandYard have been brought in on this job. Things have happened sinceyou've been in this nursing home which are going to interestScotland Yard a great deal. With luck they won't disturb you, butif you'renot lucky it's on the cards that a policeofficer is coming over here to ask questions. I think he'll onlyhave one question to ask you and I'm going to tell you theanswer.
"The only thing he'll want to know," said Callaghan, "is whatis the reason that you removed the original—thereal—Vendayne jewellery and had it replaced by imitations.Remember this: in his mind will be the idea that you mightpossibly have sold the original jewellery and that when theimitations were stolen you thought you could collect from theInsurance Company. We can answer the second half of this questionbecause the claim against the Insurance Company has beenwithdrawn.
"In regard to the first half, the reason that you had thejewellery replaced by imitations is this: you knew that yourdaughter Esme was mixed up somehow with a nefarious character bythe name of Blaize who had come to live somewhere in theneighbourhood of Margraud. You were afraid for that jewellery. Soyou had it replaced by imitations.
"It doesn't matter," said Callaghan with a grin, "whether theybelieve you or not. That's your story, and you stick to it andeverything will be all right."
He picked up his hat.
"So long, Major," he said. "Don't worry. You probably won'teven be worried at all. I think there's a good possibility thatnobody will even want to ask youany questions."
He went out. Five minutes later the Jaguar was speeding alongthe Exeter-London road. Behind the wheel, the inevitablecigarette in his mouth, Callaghan pondered on possibilities.
But in the main he was satisfied.
CALLAGHAN parked the car in Berkeley Square, walked toHatchett's Restaurant in Piccadilly and ordered a chicken saladand a double whisky and soda. When he had finished his lunch helit a cigarette and began to think. His thoughts were, in themain, concerned with personalities. He began to think aboutLancelot and Gabby Ventura, both individually and as a possiblyunwilling corporation of two. He thought about Esme and Blaize.Ropey Felliner was dismissed as being unworthy ofconsideration.
Having concluded this series of thoughts, Callaghan turned hismental attention to Detective-Inspector Walperton. He spent quitefive minutes thinking about that keen and efficient policeofficer, but he was concerned with thenuances ofWalperton's private character rather than with his abilities as apoliceman.
Walperton was antagonistic and sure of himself and inclined tobe what is generally known as "cocky." Walperton wastooantagonistic,too sure of himself and, in effect,too cocky. But Callaghan realised that, after his lastinterview at Scotland Yard with the police officer, Walpertonwould, in all probability, take a more cautious view ofCallaghan. He would be very careful not to walk into any traps.But he would certainlynot give Callaghan the benefit ofany doubt that arose.
Against all this Walperton was ambitious. And it was with thisfacet in his character that Callaghan was concerned. Walpertonwanted to "get on." He would do anything that was legitimate andpossible in order to get on. Callaghan made up his mind thatDetective-Inspector Walpertonshould get on even if he,Callaghan, had to help him.
He paid his bill and walked out into the sunshine. Piccadillywas quiet and orderly and cheerful. There were fewer people onthe streets, fewer cars. But in spite of the grimness of the warsituation people were cheerful and more inclined to smile than tobe serious.
Callaghan walked to Berkeley Square, got into the Jaguar anddrove to the building in which his offices and flat weresituated. He parked the car round the corner, went up in the liftto his own apartment, washed, rubbedeau-de-Cologne intohis hair, then descended to the office floor.
Effie Thompson, immersed in the latest "romance" novel, with abox of chocolates open on the desk in front of her, sat relaxedin her chair. She straightened up as the door opened andCallaghan came in.
He stood behind her looking at the title of the novel. Hesaid: "Any good, Effie?"
"Not too bad, Mr. Callaghan," she replied. "The book movesfast and my only objection to it is that none of the charactersare alive."
Callaghan sat down in a chair on the other side of herdesk.
"So the characters aren't alive," he said cheerfully. "What dothey do that they ought not to do or what is it they don't dothat should be done?"
She said: "The men are sticks. The hero never gets a move on.He is supposed to be a man of definite character and he's alsosupposed to be madly in love with the girl Germaine; yet whenthey have to make a forced landing in a deserted spot in thecountry, he leaves her with the aeroplane at two o'clock in themorning and goes off to look for help."
Callaghan nodded.
"Too bad," he said. "What ought he to have done?"
She looked at him coldly.
"I should have thoughtyou could have answered that,Mr. Callaghan," she said, pursing her lips primly. "If I loved awoman—to that extent—and found myself in a desertedpart of the countryside at two in the morning with an aeroplaneI should do something about it."
Callaghan grinned.
"I gathered that, Effie," he said. "But what I wanted to knowwaswhat you would have done."
Effie looked out of the window. After a moment she said:
"You take a fiendish delight in embarrassing me, Mr.Callaghan, don't you? You know perfectly well what Imeant...."
Callaghan said: "I don't and you don't either."
"You'll excuse me, Mr. Callaghan, but Ido," sheretorted.
"All right," said Callaghan cheerfully. "If you know you tellme. I want to know what you would have done."
She said: "You know perfectly well that it's impossible for meto answer that question, Mr. Callaghan." She looked out of thewindow again. "The English language doesn't lend itself to adescription of that sort. What I mean is..."
"I know what you mean," said Callaghan. "You mean that ifyou'd been the hero in your book and—for the sake ofargument—I'd been Germaine, the beautiful heroine, and wemade a forced landing in a deserted part of the countryside you'dhave taken advantage of me. That's what you mean, and you knowit, Effie.... I'm surprised at you."
She blushed furiously. She said:
"Mr. Callaghan, you always put words into my mouth thatweren't there. I mean to say, you always make me appear to say orthink something that I didn't intend to say or wasn't thinking.It's too bad."
"I know," said Callaghan. "But even if I do pull your legsometimes, Effie, you can always congratulate yourself thatyou've got a nice leg."
She said primly: "That, from you, Mr. Callaghan, is indeed acompliment. I'm sure you're an authority on the subject. Did youwant to dictate something?"
"No," said Callaghan. "Just put your typewriter on my desk. Iwant to type a letter personally. Then look up the telephonenumber of Miss Paula Rochette—it's somewhere in CourtfieldGardens, after which you can take a couple of hours off. Justlook in in time to close the office."
"Thank you," said Effie. "That is rather nice. I saw somesunbronze silk stockings that I thought I'd be able to buy if Ihad that rise you said you'd consider three months ago."
Callaghan grinned.
"This is no time for rises," he said. "Take up the question ofa rise with me in three months' time, Effie. In the meantimeCallaghan Investigations will stand you some silk stockings as abonus." He laid three one-pound notes on her table. "The onlything is," he went on, "they should be beige—not sunbronze.Your type of leg needs a beige stocking."
She picked up the notes.
"Thank you, Mr. Callaghan," she said, "but I prefersunbronze."
He shrugged his shoulders.
"That's all right with me, Effie," he said. "But I knew awoman once who used to wear sunbronze stockings and all of asudden she went bow-legged. But don't let me put you off."
She did not reply.
She carried her typewriter into Callaghan's office, put it onthe desk, found the Rochette telephone number, wrote it down onhis desk pad, put on her hat and jacket and went out.
She walked to Bond Street and examined the sunbronzestockings. She came to the conclusion that they were just whatshe needed.
After which she bought half a dozen pairs in beige.
CALLAGHAN sat at his desk with the typewriter before him.
He lit a cigarette and indulged in a little quietconsideration of the qualities, virtues, and possible failings ofDetective-Inspector Walperton. He began to grin sardonically.
He put a sheet of notepaper into the machine and began to typea letter:
To Detective-Inspector Walperton,
Criminal Investigation Department,
NewScotland Yard.
Personal.
My Dear Walperton,
I don't know you very well, because, as youknow, my association at the Yard, over different cases that havecome up, has always been with Chief Detective-Inspector Gringall,whose opinion I have found to be of great use to me whenever Ihave had occasion to ask for it.
Candidly, since I saw you last, and sincemy return this morning from Devonshire, I have been very worried.I am in a rather unpleasant jam. I have got to choose between myduty as a private investigator, employed by the Vendayne familyand the Sphere & International Insurance, and my duty as aprivate citizen with its responsibilities of giving informationto the police which I think they should have.
So I have decided to put myself absolutelyand entirely in your hands. In spite of the fact that you have areputation for not liking private detectives a great deal, I amof opinion that you are keen—as a police officer—tosee that your duty is done and that a case which you are handlingis brought to its official and proper conclusion. In thisconnection I know that you are as keen on protecting theinnocent—even from their own foolish actions—as youare in seeing that the guilty person or persons are brought tobook.
This is where I am in a jam. I want to talkto you and to put my cards on the table. When I have done this Ithink you will be able to go right ahead and close this case.But—and this is a big "but"—I have got to sort out myideas and marshal my facts so that there is no possibility ofinnocent people being involved in a bad case. I know that youwill agree with this.
So, with your permission, I propose to calland see you tomorrow and give you every bit of information whichI have collected. The fact that I have (possibly) moreinformation than has been available to the police, both inDevonshire and at Headquarters, is, of course, merely due to mypersonal contacts with members of the Vendayne family andothers.
In the meantime, because things may behappening which will merit your professional attention, I wouldlike to tell you that when I returned to Devonshire after ourlast meeting I discovered the following facts:
1. Ropey Felliner has cleared out. I thinkI know the reason for this. Felliner was employed by GabrielVentura of the Ventura Club, near Shepherd Market, to keep an eyeon Blaize. I have an idea that I can guess the motive for thenecessity for this and will discuss this with you to-morrow.
2. Blaize has also disappeared. It seemsthat he was in the neighbourhood until some time last evening,and your own information has probably told you that he hadarranged the sale of the Yard Arm Road House and the cottagebehind it to a man named Wallers (who, I think, is entirelyunconnected with this case) some days ago. Quite obviously Blaizehas been preparing to make a quick getaway. I am not certain ofhis reasons for wanting to do this but I feel that they must, insome way, be connected with either (a) a member of the Vendaynefamily, or (b) Ventura.
3. Now I must make an admission. You willremember that when I saw you last I said that I was fairlycertain that the Vendayne robbery was an "outside" job. I knew atthe time that you thought I was wrong, and that the steal boreall the hall-marks of an "inside" job. You were right and I waswrong. The job was an inside one and yet the obviously guiltyperson is quite guiltless. Believe it or not, this is a fact!
I think that after we have had ourconversation to-morrow—I will telephone you when I amcoming along to see you—you will agree that, as always, Ihave tried to do my duty and given the fullest possible co-operation and information to the authorities.
Looking forward to seeing you,
I am, sincerely yours,
S. Callaghan,
CallaghanInvestigations.
Callaghan addressed an envelope, sealed it down, rang down tothe porter's lodge for a page-boy. When the boy appearedCallaghan instructed him to take a cab and deliver the letter atScotland Yard.
He replaced the typewriter on Effie Thompson's desk, returnedto his office, sat down, put his feet on the desk and lit acigarette.
When the cigarette was finished he looked at his watch. It washalf-past four. Callaghan got up, walked into the outer office.He walked over to Effie Thompson's desk. He took up her note-pad,wrote on it:"I bet you bought beige stockings."
He closed and locked the office door and took the lift up tohis apartment. He undressed quickly, dropping his clothes asusual on the floor, set the small alarm clock for six-thirty, laydown on the bed.
In two minutes he was asleep.
THE afternoon sunshine, gilding the Berkeley Square roofs,came in at the open window and illuminated one half of the beigeand blue carpet, over which Callaghan's clothes were strewn, withstreaks of gold.
The small alarm clock on the bed-table, set for six-thirty,began to jangle. Callaghan grunted, awoke, looked at the ceilingas if he hadn't seen it before, and then, with a sudden movement,swung his legs off the bed and sat, running his fingers throughhis dishevelled hair, thinking.
This time it was Audrey.
After a few moments he got up, went to the compactum, got outfresh underwear, shirt and suit. He went into the bathroom, tooka cold shower, dressed. He returned to the bedroom, drank fourfingers of rye whisky out of the bottle in the cupboard andcalled the Rochette number on the telephone.
He was lucky. He grinned as the rather metallic voice of thatlady came on the line. Callaghan said softly: "Is that you,Paula? This is Slim Callaghan speaking."
She said: "Oh, is it?" Her voice became very "county." Shewent on: "I'm a little bit surprised that you should have thesauce to ring me up, Mr. Callaghan."
Callaghan said: "I know, Paula, I know just what you'rethinking, and believe me you're wrong. You think I ought to haveset about Gabby Ventura when he was rude to you the othernight."
"Well," said Paula, "what do you think? You tell me something,Mr. Callaghan... do you consider me to be a perfect lady ornot?"
Callaghan said: "There can't be any question about that,Paula. I'll tell the whole world that you come out of the topdrawer."
His mouth was twisted cynically.
"All right,"said Miss Rochette. "If you think I'm a perfectlady, and if you consider you're a gentleman, Mr. Callaghan, allI want to know is why didn't you smack the ears off that lousyslob Gabby when he said he'd have me pinched?"
Her voice rose at least three tones.
Callaghan said very quietly: "That's just it,Paula—that's what you don't understand. Look here, mydear," he said, "you don't like Gabby, do you?"
"Like him!" shrilled Miss Rochette. "I know just what I'd liketo do with him—I'd like to..."
She told Callaghan what she would like to do to Gabby.Callaghan listened appreciatively. When she had finished, hesaid:
"I feel like that too, but there's more ways than one ofkilling a cat. I didn't do anything to Gabby that night, Paula,because I've got something worse for him up my sleeve, and how doyou like that?"
"I like it all right," she said. "I'd do anything to even upwith that fat bladder of lard."
Callaghan said: "There's another thing, my dear, last time Isaw you you did me the favour of accepting a little gift fromme—that brooch—remember? Well, I've been thinkingthings over and I don't think it was good enough for you."
"Oh, yes?" said Miss Rochette suspiciously. "What's the idea?I suppose you want it back?"
"Nothing like that," said Callaghan. "I told you I thought itwasn't good enough for you. I thought perhaps you'd like to giveit to a friend or get rid of it. I thought you'd like somethingbetter, but I didn't want to make a mistake about buyinganything, so I thought we might: meet to-night and have dinner,and I'd give you the fifty pounds to buy something really decentwith."
Miss Rochette began to coo. She said:
"Mr. Callaghan—or perhaps I ought to call youSlim—I always felt underneath everything that you were agentleman, and if you've got anything that you want put over onGabby Ventura, I'm with you the whole way."
Callaghan said: "All right. Let's meet at the Jewel Club ateight o'clock tonight. We'll have dinner and I'll tell you myidea. So long, Paula."
He hung up the receiver.
His grin was more sardonic than ever.
IT was seven o'clock when Callaghan, havingfinished his second whisky and soda, came out of the BerkeleyButtery.
He walked slowly down to the telephone box on the corner ofHay Hill and dialled the number of Grant's Hotel. He asked forMr. Lancelot Vendayne.
He was told to hold the line. With his free hand he took hiscigarette-case from his hip pocket, extracted a cigarette, litit. He began to blow smoke-rings.
Callaghan was thinking of the number of times he had used thisparticular call box in regard to different business with whichMessrs. Callaghan Investigations had been concerned in the past.He remembered that most of these investigations had been broughtto a conclusion that was—if only from the point of view ofCallaghan Investigations—successful. He remembered alsothat when you spin a penny although it may come down heads twelvetimes in succession it is all the tea in China to a bad egg thaton the thirteenth spin it will come down tails.
He hoped that the Vendayne case was not going to come down"tails."
He drew on his cigarette appreciatively. He realised, quitedefinitely, that the results of the Vendayne case depended on theinterviews he was hoping to arrange for the night that lay beforehim. In any event he had burned his boats so far as Walperton wasconcerned. He had done that when he had written and despatchedthe letter which, by now, had been read and re-read by theefficient police officer with—the detective thought—acertain relish. Callaghan had to present a cut-and-dried story toWalperton next day—a story that matched up. Hehadto. He had been forced to burn his boats by despatching thatletter, because it was on the cards that the news of Blaize'sdeath might have, by now, come through to Walperton. WithCallaghan's letter in front of him Walperton could do nothingdefinite. He must and would wait. He must hear what Callaghan hadto say before making a definite move.
Without the letter Walperton would, in all probability, be, atthat moment, on his way to Devonshire, and once arrived might, byluck—or sheer ability—discover many things thatCallaghan desired should not be discovered.
Lancelot Vendayne's voice came on the line. He said:
"Who is that?"
He sounded acid and unhappy.
Callaghan said: "This is Callaghan. How are you? Are youfeeling well, Lancelot? Do you feel that you can stand up tolife? Or do you feel that life is too much for you and that youjust can't take it?"
"Look here..." Lancelot began.
Callaghan interrupted.
"I once said that you were a sonofabitch, Lancelot," he saidamiably. "I was wrong. It would be complimenting you to call youthat. You're something much worse. I'll probably think up justwhat you are and tell you when I see you at Grant's Hotel ateleven-thirty."
"I shan't be here at eleven-thirty," said Lancelot. "So youcan save yourself the trouble of coming round. If I were here Ishouldn't see you. You rather fancy yourself, don't you,Callaghan? To hell with you."
"All right," said Callaghan. "To hell with me. But even thatisn't going to help you. Let me tell you something, you two-by-four love-child, and you listen to it and like it!"
Callaghan's voice took on a quality that was metallic andtough. He spoke almost softly but the words possessed a peculiarresonance that positively impinged, through the telephonereceiver, on to Lancelot's ear-drum.
"I'm coming round at eleven-thirty," said Callaghan grimly."You're going to be in your apartment, and you'll have a bottleof whisky and a siphon of soda waiting for me. If you're notthere I'm going out to find you. When I've found you I'm going toknock about seventeen different kinds of hell out of you, andwhen you come out of hospital I'm going to have you arrested andslung into gaol like any other cheap crook who's caught breakingthe law. Understand?"
"Oh, really..." Lancelot sneered. "And may I ask what thecharge would be?"
Callaghan began to lie. His voice held the honest vibrancy oftruth which invariably accompanied his best-thought-out and mostblatant falsehoods. He said:
"I've got all I want on you... you nit-wit. I'm in possessionof evidence which shows clearly that you were concerned with anindividual named Blaize and your cousin Esme Vendayne in a plotto steal the jewellery at Margraud. Unluckily for you, the Majorwas too clever for you, and secondly, Esme has decided that it isbetter for her to tell the truth. I've got enough on you to putyou inside for five years, you cheap four-flushing wash-out. Andhow do you like that?"
"My God," said Lancelot. "This is rubbish. This is..."
"Like hell it is," said Callaghan. "But if I were you Iwouldn't take any chances on it being rubbish. You be at thathotel at eleven-thirty or I'll kick your teeth down yourthroat."
He hung up the receiver and stepped out on to Hay Hill. It wasa quarter-past seven. He began to walk in the direction ofAlbemarle Street, towards the Jewel Club.
He thought that Lancelot would not have a very pleasantevening. He thought that Lancelot would spend two or three hoursrunning round in circles and trying to think out just whatCallaghan was planning to do to him. He grinned happily.
MISS PAULA ROCHETTE regarded Callaghan across the table, setdiscreetly in the corner of the Jewel Club, with an amiabilitythat bordered on affection.
She had eaten an excellent dinner. She had, by now, accountedfor three cocktails and the greater part of two bottles ofchampagne with appreciation. Her long, thin fingers were setdaintily—with the little finger stuck well out in themanner of the best people—round the stem of a balloon glassthat carried an adequate measure offine maison.
Miss Rochette was—very nearly—at peace with theworld. Wars may come and wars may go, thought Paula, but I'm hereand so what. She considered that she was looking her best—aprocess which necessitated her squeezing a pair of hips that werebeginning to show the first signs of spreading into a "wraparound" quite two sizes too small for her. Her bosom was encasedin a new brassière which, invented by a lady with an eye for"uplift," was doing its stuff one hundred per cent.
Paula felt that she was uplifted in all the places that neededuplift and controlled in the places that needed control. Hercomplexion, after a three-quarters of an hour death strugglebefore the mirror in her bedroom, bore a peach-like bloom thatwas not more than one-sixteenth of an inch thick. Her eye-brows,plucked into the slimmest possible lines, were to her own eyessuperb—even if to the impersonal gaze they resemblednothing so much as the track of an unintelligent and feeblecentipede whose legs had been dipped in Indian ink. Her eyelids,shaded with a middle blue that, while suggesting to the mostcasual observer that Paula had not been to bed for about threeyears, to her own, favoured vision showed a delicate tirednessand an inclination for love—in the best possible mannerof course.
She said: "Me...I've always been one fordignity—that's what I say, 'dignity,' and I don'tmean anything else. My landlady—well, I call her that, butshe's more of a lady's maid to me, so to speak—said to methe other day: 'Miss Rochette,' she says, 'what about theseGermans, that's what's worryin' me. What do we do if they come'ere?'
"I turned on her," said Paula. "I said: 'If they come heah,Mrs. Carroway... if such a process obtains, then what we need isfighting spirit and dignity—especially dignity."
"She says: 'Oh,' she says, 'an' what good's that goin' to do?They don't need dignity—what they need is a couple of Millsbombs.' So I turned on her again an' I said: 'Mrs. Carroway, theMills bomb is for the soldier, but what a woman—alady—needs isdignity. If I was to find myselfconfronted by a German officer of high rank, I should merelyshrug my shoulders at him and say: "Herr Kapitan, I wish you tounderstand that you can't go on like that around here. Not withPaula Rochette anyway." I should freeze him with a look.'"
"'Oh, yes,' she says. 'An' supposin' he wasn't goin' to befroze with a look? What about it then, Miss Rochette?'
"'Then an' only then,' I told 'er, 'I should use other means.I should probably set about him, but in a ladylike manner,' Isaid to her, I said. 'If the worst comes to the worst there'salways the flat-iron... but dignity first. Let's be ladies whilewe can an' if we can't go on bein' ladies then,of course,we've just got to set about 'em.'"
Paula absorbed a large gulp of brandy. She leaned towardsCallaghan.
"You've heard about Helen of Troy?" she said mysteriously.
Callaghan said: "No, Paula. Tell me about her."
"There was a woman," said Paula. "She'd got somethingall right. Look what she done to Marc Antony. When things wasgoin' bad an' this Marc Antony was ravagin' around thecountryside like a human grass'opper, what does she do? Tell methat. What does she do?"
"Well, what did she do?" asked Callaghan.
Miss Rochette's lips set in a firm line.
"She lured 'im into 'er tent an' cut off 'is retreat," sheconfided. "An' the next day they gave 'er a golden apple. If yougo down to Chelsea you can see the Chelsea 'Ospital that theybuilt as a memento. What I've always said is the moment producesthe woman. Every big moment produces a big woman. Boadicea, Joanof Arc, Nell Gwyn, Mae West and Mademoiselle from Armentières...history's full of 'em."
Callaghan nodded. "You're right, Paula," he said. "These werewomen who knew when and how to take their revenge. You're thatsort of woman. A modern Boadicea with a touch of Mae West. That'swhy I wanted to talk to you about Gabby."
"Gabby..." She almost hissed the word. "There'ssomebody I'm waitin' for..."
Callaghan interrupted. His voice was soft and intriguing.
"Tell me something, Paula," he said. "Did Gabby try and get intouch with you after he was rude to you at the Ventura Club theother night? Did he try to apologise?"
"Apologise nothin'," said Paula. "But he got in touch allright. He 'ad the nerve to ring me up an' ask me what I'd beendoin' with you... what we'd been talkin' about. He said he wantedto know an' that if I didn't tell him he'd fix it so that I nevergot another job in any club in the West End."
"Ah," said Callaghan. "And did you tell him?"
Paula made a grimace intended to denote deep disdain.
"I wish you could have heard what I told him," she said. "Iwas as cold as ice. I said: 'Mr. Ventura,' I said: 'there's noneed for you to ring through to me an' ask me questions because Idon't want to talk to you. Another thing,' I said, 'as forworkin' at your club or any other club, any time you feel liketryin' to put the bar up to me, you go right ahead.' I said: 'Idon't want to lose my temper or my dignity with you, Mr. Ventura,but if you try any funny business with me I'm comin' round tothat lousy dump of yours that you call a club, an' I'm goin' totear your bled-in' ears off. So now you know!' An' with that Ihung up."
Callaghan nodded appreciatively.
"That's the spirit, Paula," he said. "It's time someone putGabby in his place, and..." He leaned towards her, smiling. "Ithink you and I can do it."
Paula finished her brandy. She said vaguely:
"Anything you want, dear. I always liked you. I always know agentleman when I see one...."
Callaghan looked at his wrist-watch. It was a quarter toeleven. He put his fingers into his waist-coat pocket andextracted five new ten-pound notes. He folded them carefully andlaid them beside Paula's empty brandy glass.
"Buy yourself something with that, Paula," he said. "Somethingworthy of you. I hate giving youmoney, but it's betterthan buying something that doesn't match up with your particularpersonality."
Her fingers closed over the notes. Callaghan went on:
"Gabby's met his Waterloo. And I don't mean the railwaystation. If I don't get him pulled in within two or three days,my name's not Callaghan. How d'you like that, Paula?"
"Marvellous," she said, with a suggestion of a hiccough. "I'dgive a couple of toes to see that fat son of a so-and-so wearin'broad arrows. It 'ud suit his complexion."
Callaghan said: "Would you like to help in the process,Paula?"
His voice was almost like the cooing of a dove.
"You watch me, darlin'," said Paula with feeling. "I'd swimthrough fifty feet of snow to even up with that lousy falsealarm—even if I am a lady."
She paused while Callaghan poured a generous measure of brandyinto her glass.
He took out his pocket-book and extracted a card. He wrotesomething on it, handed it to Paula.
"At twelve o'clock to-night," he said, "I want you totelephone through to Gabby at the Ventura Club. When you getthrough say it's a matter of life and death. That you must speaktohim. When he comes on the line say your piece. Tell himwhat I've written on that card. Only you needn't be polite aboutit."
Paula read the card. Her eyes popped.
"Lovely," she said. "This is where I get a real thrill. I'mgoin' to love tellin' 'im that...."
Callaghan signalled the waiter and paid the bill. He said:
"I've got to be getting along, Paula. One of these days, maybesooner than you think, we'll meet again."
She gulped down the brandy. She said:
"Anytime you want to get in touch, dear, just ring me. There'ssomething about you that sort of appeals to me." She lookedwildly round the room. She believed she was being dramatic. Shewent on: "I've always been lookin' for somebody like you.Somebody who was a real gentleman with money no object. I wonderis my search at an end...."
The effect of this speech was spoiled by another hiccough.
Callaghan said: "Let's leave future meetings in the hands ofFate, Paula. All you've got to remember is to get through toGabby at twelve o'clock and give him that message. You won'tforget?"
"Never," said Paula. "Never... while I can stand on my feet Ialways keep my word."
"Fine," said Callaghan. "I knew I'd picked the right woman.I'll put you in a cab, Paula. You'd better go home."
Miss Rochette got up with dignity. She said:
"Maybe you're right, sweet'eart. I think Iwill liedown for a bit, because I've got a feeling if I don't lie down,I'll fall down."
Outside, as Callaghan put her into the taxicab, she said:
"So long, Slim. I shall always remember you as the perfectgent. Only next time we meet you'd better come round and have adrink atmy place. I think it does everybody good to relaxsometimes...."
The cab drove away. Callaghan heaved a sigh. He walked quicklyback to Berkeley Square. Let himself into the office, sat downbefore Effie Thompson's typewriter, inserted a quarto sheet ofplain typing paper and began to type...
Grant's Hotel, Clarges Street...
AT eleven-thirty precisely Callaghan walked into Grant's Hotelin Clarges Street. He went to the reception desk. He said:
"I've come to see Mr. Vendayne. He's waiting for me. Where'shis room?"
The clerk told him. Callaghan walked up the stairs to thefirst floor. When he came to Lancelot's door he pushed it openand went in.
He found himself in a well-furnished sitting-room. To the leftwas an open door leading off, he imagined, to a bedroom. In thecentre of the sitting-room was a table and on the other side ofit sat Lancelot. Callaghan noted with appreciation that there wasa bottle of whisky, a siphon and glasses on the sideboard.
Lancelot said: "You've got a hell of a nerve, Callaghan. Ireally don't know why I stayed here to talk to you. If I did theright thing I'd call the police."
Callaghan walked round the table past Lancelot and went to thesideboard. He poured himself out four fingers of whisky, drankit, followed it with a chaser of soda-water. He walked back tothe table and stood looking down at Lancelot.
Callaghan said: "You're just a big air balloon, Lancelot.You're tall, you're good-looking, you look like a man ought tolook, but inside you're all air. You make me feel sick."
Lancelot jumped up. He aimed a wild blow at Callaghan's face.Callaghan caught the punch easily with his left hand, then hestepped back and hit Lancelot fairly between the eyes.
Lancelot went over the back of his chair. He lay on the floorfor a minute, then began to scramble up. When he was fairly seton his feet Callaghan knocked him down again. He said:
"That's that. Now let's finish with this idea of rough stuff;you're no good at it. You're no good at anything. Just sit downand relax. I'm going to talk to you."
Vendayne wiped the blood from his mouth. He said:
"All right, but I'm going to even up with you for this. Youwait."
His voice was almost petulant, like that of an angrywoman.
Callaghan said: "I'll chance that."
He went to the sideboard, mixed a stiff whisky and soda,brought it back, put it on the table before Lancelot.
"Drink that," he said. "You need it. I told you you couldn'ttake it."
He returned to the sideboard and got himself another drink.Then he moved to the fireplace and stood, his back to the emptygrate, the whisky glass in his hand, looking at Lancelot.
"If you're wise," he said, "if you have any brains at all,you're going to listen to me very carefully. I'm going to tellyou two stories. One of them is the truth. The second one is alittle variation on the truth evolved by me. When you've heardit, you'll realise that the second story sounds as if it's thetrue one, and that the first story, which is in effect the truth,sounds as if it were false. Now here's the first story:
"Last year you got your uncle, Major Vendayne, to put a largelump of his capital into some wild-cat share scheme of yours. Itmust have been a good-sounding scheme because, not only did youget Major Vendayne to put his money into it, but you got GabbyVentura to put money in too. Well, it didn't come off. Both MajorVendayne and Gabby lost their money, but whereas the Majorprobably considered that it was just bad luck that the dealdidn't come off, Gabby wasn't prepared to be so accommodating. Hehad the idea that you anyhow had madesomething out of it.He didn't like that. I imagine he got rather tough with you aboutit, and in trying to excuse yourself you told him that he wasn'tthe only person who'd lost his money; that your own uncle hadgone down too.
"At this time there was an idea about that you might marryAudrey Vendayne. Because of this the Major said nothing to Audreyabout the share deal. Afterwards, when she decided she didn'tlike you very much—and I don't blame her either—hecouldn't tell her. The reasons don't matter.
"Anyhow in those days you were hanging about Margraud,probably trying to get Audrey to change her mind, and you werehanging about there when Esme came back from Cape Town.
"Esme wasn't feeling so good. She was worried. She had toconfide in someone and she wanted money. She wanted money to keepBlaize quiet. She tried everything she knew, but eventually shecould do nothing more and as a last resort she came to you. Shetold you the story. She told you how she'd married Blaize in CapeTown, how Blaize was blackmailing her. She told you how he hadcome over and taken the Yard Arm so as to be in the vicinity. Shetold you how he'd promised, if he got sufficient money, he'dallow her to divorce him quietly without the news of the marriagecoming to the ears of her father or family.
"I expect you were interested—possibly you were amused,"Callaghan went on. "But you didn't do anything about it. When youcame back to town I've no doubt that you told Gabby Ventura thenews as an amusing tit-bit. You were trying to make friends withGabby. You'd never been particularly happy since that business ofthe share deal. You were rather afraid of him.
"All right. The next thing is that you hear that the Vendaynejewellery has been stolen. You know that both the local policeand Scotland Yard believe it to be an inside job. Well, it didn'ttake very much intelligence for you to put two and two together.You guessed that Esme had found a way of paying off Blaize. Youguessed that she'd let him into the house, given him thecombination of the safe. You didn't even guess, youknew.You knew Blaize had that jewellery.
"Well, that suited your book. What did it matter to you? Inthe normal course of events you would neither have had thejewellery nor the proceeds from the sale of it until after theMajor's death. The burglary was all right for you provided theInsurance Company paid up. You just stood around and watchedpoints. You noticed that the Major didn't seem in any hurry toput in a claim to the Insurance Company. You practically forcedhim to. Incidentally, I expect you wondered why he hadn't done itearlier.
"But even after the claim had gone in, the Insurance Companyweren't keen to pay, so you thought you'd use another lever. Yougot me brought in on this job, the idea being that when I wentdown to Margraud, Esme would get the wind up, tell her father thetruth, and in order to save his daughter's reputation he'd comein on your side. He would insist on an immediate payment of theclaim, and when he'd got it I imagine you'd have wanted all themoney.
"When Audrey Vendayne heard the scheme for putting in aprivate detective on this case, she didn't like it—herreasons don't matter—I know and understand them. She cameup to town. Her idea was to keep meout of this case. Shethought she'd need some money to do it with, so she asked you tolend her £300. You lent it to her, not knowing what she wanted itfor, because you thought you might make a come-back with her, butyou didn't lend her your own money—you hadn't got £300. Youborrowed it from Ventura, and Ventura lent it to you because atthat moment it suited his book.
"Naturally," Callaghan went on cheerfully, "you weren't verypleased when I told you that I'd got Layne to withdraw the claimagainst the Insurance Company. You went snooping around and foundthat I'd arranged to represent them too, so you rang through toAudrey and tried to make things tough for me. Well, it justdidn't come off.
"In fact," said Callaghan, looking more amiable than ever, "Ihave for once done my complete duty. I've not only representedthe Vendayne family fairly adequately, but it looks to me as ifI've also saved the Insurance Company a whole lot of money."
"That," said Callaghan with a grin, "makes me feel very good."
Lancelot said nothing. Callaghan lit a cigarette, drank alittle whisky and soda.
"Now, Lancelot," he said, "that's the truth—the wholetruth and nothing but the truth. That's the story which, if Itell it to the police, they won't believe. You'll agree that toany normal policeman such a story would sound impossible.
"So," Callaghan continued, "I've another story, a story whichisn't true, but which matches up with the facts. I'm going totell it to you. When I've told it to you, you're either going toagree to do what I want, or I'm going to tell this second storyto the police. I think it'll put you inside. Listen to it."
Lancelot sat back in his chair. He had finished dabbing hismouth with his handkerchief. He took a gulp of whisky and soda.His eyes were interested.
Callaghan said: "This Vendayne case is a scream. It's one ofthe funniest stories I've ever heard in my life. I'm going togive you laugh number one: when Blaize got into Margraud andstole that jewellery, he didn't get the real stuff. He gotimitation jewels—fakes that the Major had had made in placeof the originals. Esme didn't know that, and you didn't know it,at the time. But my story is going to be that you did know it. Mystory is that when Esme came to you and said she needed money,you suggested to her that Blaize should steal the Vendaynejewellery, knowing it to be imitation, so that the Major shouldbe forced to put in what was in effect a fake claim on theInsurance Company, of which you would take £75,000 and out ofwhich you promised you'd settle up with Blaize. If you examinethe situation you'll find that the evidence points to that beingthe actual case, although, as you and I know, it isn't.
"Blaize knew about you," Callaghan went on. "Esme had probablytold him that she was trying to get money from you. He also knewthat when the Major died the jewellery came to you. When Blaizediscovered that it was fake, that all his trouble and risk hadbeen for nothing, he was naturally annoyed, so he tried to makethings hot for Esme. He sent you an anonymous note—youshowed it to me yourself—saying that the jewellery wasn'tworth £40. You didn't do anything about that note," saidCallaghan, "because you hoped the Insurance Company would stillpay. That makes you out to be a crook, because you knewthen that the jewellery that had been stolen was fake. Butyou told one person—I believe you told Ventura."
Lancelot said: "What's all this stuff about Ventura? How doeshe come into this?"
"That's no business of yours," said Callaghan. "When I wantyou to ask questions I'll tell you."
Callaghan finished his whisky and soda.
"I've got an appointment at Scotland Yard to-morrow," he wenton. "I've got to tell something to this policeman Walperton,who's in charge of this job. Walperton is keen. He's thirstingfor somebody's blood. Well, I'm going to give himsomebody—I'll give himyou, Lancelot."
Lancelot said bitterly: "I see. So I'm to be the one tosuffer. But if you do that, tell me one thing: what explanationwill you give to the police about the switch over of thejewellery? My uncle must have been responsible for that. Well,what will you tell them about that?"
Callaghan smiled. His smile was beatific.
"That's easy, Lancelot," he said. "The Major will tell themthat he suspected an attempt, was going to be made on thejewellery, so he had it replaced by imitations—a mostpraiseworthy thing to do."
"I see," said Lancelot. "So that's the story. But at the sametime you've got to admit one thing. He allowed that claim to beput in on the Insurance Company, knowing that the jewellery wasfake."
"All right," said Callaghan. "Didn'tyou do the samething? When Blaize wrote you that note and told you the jewellerywas fake, didyou go down to the Insurance Company andtell 'em about it?"
Callaghan's grin was broader than ever.
"You're beat, Lancelot, and you know it. If you've got anysense you'll play things my way. That way you'll getsomething."
Lancelot looked at the table. After a minute he said:
"Well, what's your way?"
Callaghan put his hand in his pocket. He produced the quartosheet of notepaper. He said:
"I have typed out a little document here. You're going to signit. I'll tell you what this document says. It says that as finaland last owner of the Vendayne jewelleryafter youruncle's death, you're entitled to sell that jewellery. It saysthat you're prepared, with his consent, to sell it now, and thatyou're prepared and wish to divide the proceeds of approximately£100,000 with him.
"That means," said Callaghan, "that you'll get £50,000 and noaccusation from me. Well, that's fair enough, isn't it,Lancelot?"
Lancelot said: "That's all right so long as I get some money.But how can we sell the jewellery? We haven't got it."
Callaghan said: "Don't you worry about that, Lancelot. I'mgoing to get it."
He walked over to the table and put the sheet of notepaper infront of Lancelot. He handed Lancelot his pen. He said:
"Of course you could say this document was obtained from youunder duress. You could say a lot of things, Lancelot, but youwon't, because if you do you know exactly what I'll do to you.I'll get you a sentence as an accessory before and after theVendayne burglary. If Esme is brought into this, you're going tobe brought into it too, and whatever she gets you'll get too.Remember that."
Lancelot said impatiently: "Very well, I've got no choice. Iagree to sign the document."
As he laid down the pen he said: "And what about Blaize?"
Callaghan said: "You don't have to worry about Blaize. Nobodyhas to worry about him." He picked up the sheet of notepaper, hispen and his hat. "He hasn't even got to worry about himself." headded.
"Good-night, Lancelot."
CALLAGHAN stood outside the entrance of Grant's Hotel inClarges Street. He looked at his watch. It was twelve o'clock. Hebegan to walk towards Berkeley Square.
MISS ROCHETTE'S alarm clock, which she had set carefully formidnight, exploded with a jangle. Paula, who, dressed in hercami-knickers, was lying full length on her bed, indulging in alittle quite lady-like snoring, awoke with a start. She yawned,stretched, sat on the edge of the bed, ran her fingers throughher hair. After a moment she got up. She went to a cupboard andextracted a bottle of gin, poured out a full measure, drank it.She went to the dressing-table and picked up the card whichCallaghan had given to her. She walked a little unsteadily to thetelephone, sat down by it, took off the receiver and dialled theVentura Club. She said:
"I want to speak to Mr. Ventura... Never mind who I am, youcan tell him it's urgent. It's a matter of life and death."
Her voice was dramatic. Paula was enjoying herself. After amoment Ventura's voice came on the line. Paula said:
"Is that you, you fat slob? This is Paula Rochette. So you'rethe feller who's going to have me barred from working in the WestEnd clubs, are you? All right. Did anybody ever tell you that'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'? Well, you listen tothis: I've been dining with a friend of yours tonight. Maybe he'snot such a friend as you think. His name's Callaghan. He told mesomething in confidence, and I ought not to tell you. But I'mgoing to. You get those big fat ears of yours open and listen tothis:
"Callaghan's got you. He's going to slam you inside. He knowsall about the Vendayne jewellery. He knows all about you. You bigfat false alarm, you haven't got a leg to stand on, and when theyget you stuck behind the bars I'm coming down every day just tomake faces at you. Good-night, sweetheart."
Miss Rochette slammed down the receiver. She looked at herselfin the glass. The mascara from one eyebrow had run into her eye.She was not pleased with the effect. She sighed, drank a littlemore gin, saw Callaghan's five ten-pound notes folded on herdressing-table, sighed contentedly and went back to bed.
IT was exactly twelve o'clock when Detective-Inspector Walperton braked his well-polished two-seater to a standstill outside a block of apartments in Chelsea.
He went inside, got into the lift and ascended to the secondfloor. He walked along to the flat at the end of the corridor andrang the bell. Then he lit a cigarette and waited.
Three minutes afterwards Chief Detective-Inspector Gringall,in a blue dressing-gown and with a surprised expression, openedthe door. He stood for a moment looking at Walperton. Then hebegan to smile. It was a nice, sympathetic smile. It was thesmile of a parent who has experienced certain difficulties inlife and who realises that someone not so experienced as himselfis beginning to discover them too.
Gringall raised one eyebrow quizzically.
He said: "Callaghan?"
Walperton nodded.
"Yes, Mr. Gringall," he replied. "Callaghan... you'vesaid it."
Gringall said: "Come in. I rather thought you'd have somethingto get off your chest about the Vendayne business."
He led the way into his study, closed the door, got out abottle of whisky, a siphon of soda and two glasses. He began tomix the drinks. Walperton sat in one of the big leatherarmchairs.
"Go ahead," said Gringall. "What's our friend Callaghan beenup to now?"
Walperton took the glass from his superior's hand.
"I got a letter from Callaghan this afternoon," he said. "Itwas sent round by hand. It was a funny sort of letter. Perhapsyou'd like to read it."
He brought the letter from his pocket, handed it to Gringall.Gringall read the letter. When he had finished, he said:
"I've had letters like this from Callaghan too. They tell younothing. They suggest that Callaghan knows a lot and that in duecourse, if you're good and wait around, you'll know it too."
"It's like his damned insolence," said Walperton.
Gringall smiled.
"Quite," he said. "He is an insolent fellow, isn't he? Buthe's damned clever. What's the position, Walperton?" he went on."Is there anything fresh in the Vendayne case?"
"Plenty," Walperton replied grimly. "When I got the letterfrom Callaghan this afternoon I wasn't worried. Things were moreor less as they had been. There's only one point of interestsince I last talked with you about this business and that wasthat Layne—Major Vendayne's solicitor—had withdrawnthe claim against the Insurance Company, on the grounds thatCallaghan had got a line on where that jewellery was. He thoughthe was going to get it back. That intrigued me, but there was noreason why I should do anything about it.
"Very well," Walperton went on. "At ten o'clock Gridley camethrough to me from Devonshire. I sent him down there last nightto investigate a feller named Blaize who's been living in theneighbourhood. You notice Callaghan says in his letter thatBlaize had disappeared. Well, they've found Blaize's body lyingat the bottom of a sort of ravine in the cliff between Margraudand the place where Blaize lived."
Gringall raised his eyebrows.
"What do you think about that?" he asked.
"Work it out for yourself, sir," said Walperton. "Callaghanadmits in that letter that his opinion about the burglary was thesame as mine—that it was an inside job. That means it wassome member of the family. That member of the family was probablyworking with Blaize.
"I see," said Gringall. "That makes it serious, doesn't it?And what did you do then?"
"I didn't do anything," said Walperton.
He paused for a moment because he noticed the faint smilewhich had reappeared on Gringall's face. Then he went on:
"I didn't do anything because I was a little worried. Ithought it would be foolish for me to go down there or to giveGridley some definite instructions before I'd heard whatCallaghan had got to say to-morrow."
"Quite," said Gringall. "Callaghan knew you'd do that. That'swhy he sent you that letter. He's playing for time."
He took a pipe from one pocket of his dressing-gown, a pouchfrom the other. He began to fill the pipe.
Walperton said: "If Callaghan obstructs me I'm going to arresthim, sir. I'm getting a little bored with Callaghan."
Gringall said: "Walperton, I've been bored with Callaghan.I've been angry with him. There have been moments when I couldcheerfully have killed him, but I have never been such a fool asto consider arresting him."
Walperton raised his eyebrows.
He said: "No?"
"No," said Gringall. "Now let me tell you something. You'veheard of the motto of Callaghan Investigations: 'We get theresomehow and who the hell cares how'? The joke is hedoesget there somehow."
Gringall sat down in the other armchair. He drew contentedlyon his pipe.
"My advice to you, Walperton," he said, "is just sit tight andhear what Callaghan's got to say to-morrow, because my bet isthat you'll hear as much of the truth as he wants to tellyou."
Walperton raised his eyebrows again.
"As much ashe wants to tell me," he said.
"Precisely," said Gringall. "If Callaghan doesn't tell you anypart of the story it's because he knows that the part he doesn'ttell you is so vague, so ambiguous and so impossible for you tocheck, that he's safe in not telling it to you. I know theCallaghan system. To-morrow he'll give you just as many facts ashe wants to give you." He smiled sympathetically. "I'll take alittle bet with you, Walperton," he said. "Callaghan's got thiscase in the bag. Whatever he's planned to do has been carried toa more or less successful conclusion."
Walperton said: "Well, I hope it'll be successful in myopinion, Mr. Gringall."
"I don't see why it shouldn't be," said Gringall. "Work it outfor yourself. Callaghan's been representing two parties in thiscase—two parties whose interests at first seemed to be atopposite ends of the stick—the Insurance Company and theVendayne family. Well, he's done the right thing by the InsuranceCompany, hasn't he?"
Walperton nodded glumly.
"You mean they're happy because the claim's withdrawn?"
"Precisely," said Gringall. "And the second thing thatCallaghan's got to do is to keep the Vendayne family happy, and Iimagine he's taken steps to ensure that. Then there's a thirdthing—he's got to keep Detective-Inspector Walperton happy.I imagine," said Gringall, smiling broadly, "that he'll startmaking you happy to-morrow."
Walperton got up. He said:
"Thank you very much, sir. I'll wait and see whathappens."
"That's right," said Gringall. "When in doubt don't doanything. I've always found that a very good rule for a policeofficer..." He led the way to the door. "Especially in dealingwith Slim Callaghan."
CALLAGHAN lay on his bed, looking at the ceiling. He wasthinking about Audrey Vendayne and, at the same time, tellinghimself that he spent too much time on the process. He turned hismind to other matters.
Being a private investigator was an odd business, thoughtCallaghan. People came to you because they were in some sort of ajam; because they didn't want to go to the police, because forsome reason they were afraid of the police.
Sometimes they told you the truth; usually they told you halfor a quarter of the truth. Then you began to fill in the blanksfor yourself and if you could you started something, sat back,watched things begin to happen.
You planned a definite scheme based on the personalities inyour investigation. Once you had started the scheme you couldn'tstop. You hoped for the best. But you could be certain of onething. Either it came off or it didn't.
And up to the moment, Callaghan ruminated with a half smile,it had come off.
He hoped it would continue to come off.
He turned over on his side and reached for the whisky bottlewhich stood on the bed-table. He put the neck of the bottle inhis mouth and took a long pull.
The telephone on the table began to jangle.
Callaghan, with the neck of the bottle still in his mouth,grinned. He finished drinking, replaced the bottle, picked up thereceiver.
It was Gabby Ventura. He said:
"Hallo, Slim. Listen... I want to talk to you."
Callaghan said: "There's no law against it. Won't to-morrowdo?"
He was still grinning. He looked almost satanic.
There was a pause. Then Ventura said:
"No. This is urgent, Slim. It's urgent for you an' me. I'vegot to talk to you now. What about coming over? I've got a bottleof champagne that's asking for you to drink it."
"I never drink champagne," said Callaghan. "Onlywhisky—at this time of night anyway."
He turned his wrist over and looked at his watch. It wastwelve-forty.
Ventura said, in a voice that was intended to be facetious:"Well... I've got a lot of whisky. Come on over, Slim."
"Why don't you come over here... to the office?" saidCallaghan. "I've got some whisky too."
There was another pause. Then:
"Look, Slim... don't be difficut. I want you to come overhere. I've got somethin' I want to hand over to you."
Callaghan said: "Ah... Now you're talking, Gabby. Do I take ityou're going to hand over the Vendayne jewellery—thereal stuff?"
"That's right," said Gabby in a near-cheerful voice. "I knowwhen I'm beat, Slim."
Callaghan swung his legs off the bed. He said:
"All right, Gabby. I'll come over now. I'll meet you in theclub."
"No," said Ventura. "Don't do that. There's not many peoplethere. They'll be closing down in a little while. Come around tothe back door and up to the flat. I'll be waiting downstairs foryou."
"All right," said Callaghan. "I'll be with you in fifteenminutes. I'll come straight round."
He hung up. He got up, put on his hat, walked along thecorridor, took the lift down to the office. He opened the outerdoor, went into his own room, sat down in front of the desk andopened the lowest drawer in the right pedestal.
The drawer contained a Luger pistol, a .32 automatic and abottle of Canadian Bourbon. Callaghan picked up the Luger, lookedat it, examined the cartridge clip, pushed it back into the butt,pulled back the recoil action, thereby pushing a cartridge intothe breech, put on the safety catch and put the pistol in thepocket specially inserted under his left arm.
He took a long swig at the Canadian rye, replaced the bottle,closed the door, went out of the office and took the lift down tothe street level.
He closed the lift gates behind him and walked along thepassage to the porter's lodge. Wilkie—the nightporter—was sitting in his glass box smoking, readingTheEvening News.
Callaghan said: "Wilkie... Listen to this, and no mistakesnow. I'm going to see a gentleman named Mr. Ventura. You'd betterwrite down his telephone number"—Callaghan gave him thenumber. "At ten past one precisely," he went on, "I want you totelephone through to that number. When you get through ask forMr. Ventura. When he asks who you are, you say: 'This isDetective-Inspector Walperton, Scotland Yard. I want to talk toMr. Callaghan, please.' "
Callaghan paused to light a cigarette.
"Have you got that, Wilkie?"
Wilkie said he had got it.
"Then," Callaghan continued, "I'll come on the line. I'llprobably talk a lot of nonsense but you don't have to take anynotice. See?"
Wilkie said that was O.K. Callaghan laid a pound note on thelittle desk in front of the night porter and went out.
He began to walk towards Shepherd Market. He skirted themarket, turned into the Mews, turned right and found himself inthe passage that led to the rear of the Ventura Club. Twentyyards away the passage was bisected by a narrow cross-road thatran down by the side of the club.
He walked slowly down the passage. When he had walked five orsix steps he stopped and listened. He took out his cigarette-caseand lighter and lit a cigarette. All the time he waslistening.
He snapped out the lighter, put it back into his pocket andcontinued on his way down the passage. He was whistlingsoftly.
He came to the place where the narrow roadway ran across thepassage. Callaghan, his nerves alert, stepped into the roadway,made as if to take another step, stopped, jumped backwards.
A touring car screeched past, missing Callaghan by a goodtwelve inches.
Callaghan crossed the road. He moved into the shadows of thepassage on the other side. He stood there waiting. Five minutesafterwards he heard the quiet throb of the motor.
He came out of the passage and turned up by the side of theVentura Club. He walked twenty paces and turned right. He stoppedin front of the dark entrance of the club. The driver of thetouring car was turning the car, backing it towards the mewsopposite.
Callaghan slipped his hand inside his coat for the Luger. Hetook three very quick, quiet strides. He put his hand over theside of the car and caught the driver by the front of hiscollar.
"Switch off, Ropey," said Callaghan. "You can leave the carhere. And get out."
Felliner grunted. He switched off, put on the hand-brake andgot out. He said:
"Look... what the 'ell...?"
Callaghan dug the Luger barrel into Ropey's soft oversizedbelly. He said:
"Just walk in front of me round to the back entrance. Gabby'swaiting there."
Felliner obeyed. They walked back to the passage, turned left.Fifteen yards away Callaghan could see the dim glow of Gabby'sshaded flash-lamp.
Gabby said: "What's goin' on, Slim? What the hell! Why... it'sRopey! Why...?"
Callaghan said: "Cut it out, Gabby. It didn't come off, that'sall. Now we can have our little talk. But excuse me for just aminute."
He pushed Ropey against the wall. He said in a very soft andpleasant voice:
"I'm a bit fed up with you, Ropey. I don't like you. I neverliked you anyway, but since two or three minutes ago I positivelydislike you. You get out of here, Ropey, and keep going.In the meantime let me give you a little memento to keep withyou."
Callaghan threw up the Luger and caught it by the barrel. Hehit Ropey fairly across the face with the pistol butt. Ropeyemitted a shrill whine. He slipped down against the wall until hewas sitting on the stone pavement. His hands were pressed to hisface.
Callaghan said: "Get up and get out. The next time I see youI'll tear you open, you cheap has-been."
Ropey got up. He was still whining softly. He kept his handspressed to his face. He began to walk unsteadily down thepassage.
Callaghan said: "Come on, Gabby. Let's have our talk. It's toobad for you that: Ropey missed me with that car." He paused tolight a cigarette. "I've been waiting for you to telephone me,"he went on. "I knew you'd try something directly Paula Rochettecame through to you with that stuff I told her to hand out. Iguessed you'd try something with a car. All Ropey had to do wasto knock me down and then run over me again and finish me. Justanother accident in the blackout."
He sighed.
"Nice work if you can get it," he said.
Gabby said nothing. He turned and began to walk up the stairs.Callaghan closed the door behind him and followed. When they gotto the flat above he put the Luger back in his pocket.
It was five minutes past one. Callaghan, seated in thearmchair by the side of the empty fireplace, watched Gabby as hemixed two whiskies and sodas at the sideboard. Gabby turned andbrought the drinks to the table. He handed one to Callaghan. Hesaid:
"Look, Slim, you know me. I'm one for letting bygones bebygones. It's no good me telling you that I wasn't behind thisidea of Ropey's—this car business—because youwouldn't believe me. But I wasn't. I think maybe Ropey was alittle bit annoyed with you on his own account, see?"
Callaghan said: "I see." He took a long drink. "Don't youthink it's time you stopped telling lies, Gabby?" he said. "Youknow you're in a jam. There's only one way out of it."
Gabby sat down in the armchair opposite. He took a small butexpensive cigar out of his waistcoat pocket and lit it. Thediamond pin in his tie was twinkling. Callaghan noticed thatGabby's mouth was almost relaxed, apparently contented. Hethought that there was nothing wrong with Ventura's nerve.
Gabby said pleasantly: "All right. For the sake of argumentI'm in a jam and I can get out of it. Well, I never mindlistening to you talk, Slim. You're always interestin'. How am Iin a jam and how do I get out?"
Callaghan said: "Listen, Gabby. I know the story, so do you.Let me give you an outline of how you're mixed up in this thing.First of all you weren't very pleased with Lancelot Vendayne. Hegot you in that share deal. You put money into it. It didn't comeoff and you lost your dough. You began to dislike Lancelot. Well,Lancelot had a respect for you—he wanted to be on the rightside of you. He was careful to explain that you weren't the onlyperson who'd lost money. He told you that Major Vendayne had losthis too; that he was in a worse jam than you were—you stillhadsome left anyway, probably plenty. Lancelot probablyenlarged on that argument. He told you what a tough spot old manVendayne was in. He probably told you about the mortgage.
"You got an idea, Gabby—quite a sound idea. Lancelot hadpointed out that when Major Vendayne died he'd have thejewellery, that he was legally entitled to sell it; that he'd beworth £100,000. He promised you that he'd repay the money he owedyou if you'd finance him some more.
"You probably agreed, but you wanted to keep an eye onLancelot, so you introduced him to Paula Rochette, who wasworking in your club. You instructed her to let you know what hewas doing.
"Well, the next thing that happened was that Lancelot told youthat Esme Vendayne was married to Blaize. I'll take another shadeof odds that he also told you that Blaize had come over to thiscountry and was blackmailing Esme, that she'd askedhim—Lancelot—for money, but that he couldn't put itup. I should think that he suggested to you that Esme might finda way out of her difficulties by letting Blaize steal theVendayne jewellery. Lancelot wouldn't have worried about thatanyway. If the jewellery was stolen he'd get the major portion ofthe insurance."
Callaghan paused. He drank a little more whisky.
He said: "How am I doing, Gabby?"
Ventura grinned at him quite amiably through the cigarsmoke.
"You're not doing so badly. Go on, Slim. I told you you'realways interestin'."
Callaghan went on: "The position wasn't good enough for you,Gabby," he said. "You've always been a one for taking chances,and you thought out a little scheme by which you could get on theright end of this deal. You made an appointment to see MajorVendayne. You pointed out to him that his position was fairlydesperate, that if he didn't pay off that £20,000 mortgage, themortgagees would foreclose on Margraud, and that would havebroken his heart. You offered to lend him £20,000 to pay off thatmortgage, provided he would hand over the Vendayne jewellery toyou."
Callaghan lit a fresh cigarette. He went on:
"The old boy was quite desperate. He would have done anythingto save Margraud, but he probably put up a couple of objections.You smoothed them over. You said that there'd be plenty of timefor him to pay back the money, in which case you'd give him backthe jewellery, and that if he died the jewellery would go toLancelot Vendayne. You then told him how Lancelot had taken youboth in over the share deal. You told the old man that you wouldsimply hold the jewellery as a security, in the event of hisdeath, until Lancelot arranged to pay you back what he owedyou.
"The Major's next objection was what was going to happen onthe occasions when the jewellery was supposed to be shown. Yousaid you'd look after that," Callaghan grinned. "You know a lotof people in the fake jewellery business, don't you, Gabby?" hesaid. "Well, one of them did a nice job for you. He made you acomplete replica of the Vendayne jewels and you handed them overto the Major. Even when they were sent back to the bank vaultnobody would open the cases to look at them. It wasn't theirbusiness, and anyway nobody would distrust the Major." Callaghanpaused. He said: "Am I still doing pretty well, Gabby?"
Ventura nodded. "Nice work. Slim," he said. His voice wasalmost patronising.
"Well," said Callaghan, "everything was all right. You'd gotthe Vendayne jewellery. You knew that the Major would never beable to repay the debt during his lifetime. You thought he'd diepretty quickly. You'd have stuck to that jewellery. You wouldn'thave worried about the money that Lancelot owed you. Thejewellery was worth much more.
"Unfortunately," Callaghan went on, "things began to happen.The fake jewellery was stolen. Then you began to get a littleworried. Lancelot, I think, was rather pleased. He probably toldyou that this was the time to collect the insurance, that whenhe'd got the money he'd pay you back. That suited you all right,but you were worried in case Blaize discovered the jewels he'dstolen were fake, so when you got the opportunity you sent RopeyFelliner down to Devonshire to keep an eye on Blaize.
"I imagine Blaize is not much of an expert on jewels. Anyway,he probably sent that stuff away to be re-cut, only keeping onebracelet. It took quite a little time before his friends in thejewellery business told him that the stuff was fake. Then Blaizegot tough with Esme. Not only did he get tough with Esme, but hesent an anonymous note to Lancelot, telling him the stuff wasfake. Lancelot knew where that note came from. He showed it tome, and I'll bet he also showed it to you.
"Now look, Gabby," Callaghan went on, "you hand over thatjewellery and as far as the Vendayne burglary is concerned, theclaim on the Insurance Company and all the rest of that stuff,you're going to be all right."
He stopped talking as the telephone began to ring. Venturalifted the receiver and spoke. After a minute he turned toCallaghan and said:
"There's a policeman—Walperton—wants to talk toyou."
"Oh, yes," said Callaghan. "I fixed for him to ring throughjust in case anything happened to me around here."
He walked over to the telephone, picked up the receiver. Hesaid:
"Is that you, Walperton?"
At the other end of the line, Wilkie said softly: "O.K., Mr.Callaghan."
"I think everything's all right," said Callaghan. "I'm withVentura now. I don't think there'll be any need for anyprosecutions. The whole job's straightened out all right. Thanksa lot. Good-night, Walperton."
He hung up. Gabby was standing in front of the fireplace, onehand on the mantelpiece, looking down into the empty grate. Hesaid:
"O.K., Slim. I know when I'm licked. This is the first time inmy life I've been taken for a sucker. And I don't meanyou," he went on, "I mean that Lancelot bastard."
His face flushed. Gabby was very angry.
Callaghan said: "Don't worry, Gabby. I've seen Lancelot to-night." He produced the sheet of notepaper from his breastpocket. "You're going to be all right, Gabby," he said, "nowthat you're going to play ball. Lancelot and Major Vendaynehave agreed that the jewellery shall be sold. Lancelot is goingto get £50,000." Callaghan grinned at Gabby. "So all you've gotto do," he said pleasantly, "immediately the sale is completed,is to keep after Lancelot for the money he owes you."
Gabby grinned. He said:
"That's pretty decent of you, Slim, to tell me that. I won'tforget it."
Callaghan said, just as pleasantly: "I think it's decent ofme, too, Gabby, especially after what Ropey tried to pull on meto-night."
Gabby shrugged.
"What's a little thing like that between friends?" he said."It didn't come off—so what... When Lancelot settles upwith me I'll look after you, Slim."
He went to the sideboard, poured out two more drinks. He said,raising his glass:
"Here's to you, Slim. You're a clever devil."
Callaghan finished his drink.
"That's fine," he said. "Now what about that jewellery?"
Gabby grinned.
"I've got it here," he said. "I'll get it for you."
Callaghan lit another cigarette. He watched Gabby as he tookdown a picture from the wall and opened the wall safe.
CALLAGHAN stood in the open doorway at the bottom of thestairs leading to Ventura's flat. In his left hand he held one ofGabby's suitcases. It was heavy with the Vendayne jewellery.
Ventura said: "Good-night, Slim. It looks as if everything'sgoing to be fine for all of us. There's only one point that'sworrying me now."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Gabby," said Callaghan. "What is it?Is there anything I can do?"
Gabby said: "About my getting that money from Lancelot. He canstill do me down if he wants to. After he's got his £50,000 hedoesn'thave to pay me what he owes me—the money Ilost was in a share deal. I've got nolegal claim onhim."
Callaghan said: "I wondered when you were going to think aboutthat, Gabby. I've got an idea. You've played the game with me,and I'm going to do the right thing by you." Callaghan smiled inthe darkness. "You be here to-morrow night," he said, "after theclub's closed, about twelve o'clock. I'll bring Lancelot round.I've got him where I want him anyway. I'll make him sign a newdocument, admitting that he legally owes you the money, agreeingto pay it immediately the jewellery's sold. How's that?"
"Fine," said Gabby. "I'll be waiting for you, Slim. You're agood guy. I'll see you don't lose anything over this."
"Thanks, Gabby," said Callaghan.
He walked away into the darkness. Ventura stood in the doorwayfor a moment drawing on his cigar. He was smiling. After a momenthe closed the door, went upstairs, gave himself a largedrink.
CALLAGHAN came out of the lift, walked along the passage, wentinto his apartment. He threw his hat on the table in the drawing-room, put the suitcase on a chair. He went into hisbedroom, dialled "Trunks." He asked for the Margraud number.Twenty minutes afterwards, Stevens' tired voice came on thetelephone.
"Hallo, Stevens," said Callaghan. "Sorry to worry you, butthis is urgent. Ask Miss Vendayne to come to the telephone, willyou?"
Stevens said he would.
Callaghan reached for the whisky bottle. He put the neck inhis mouth, took a long pull. He put the bottle back on thetable.
Audrey Vendayne came on the line. Callaghan said:
"Hallo, Audrey. Were you asleep?"
She said: "No. I was awake. I was thinking."
Callaghan said: "Are you wearing that white-spotted red silkdressing-gown?"
She said: "Yes. Why?"
"And have you got that ribbon in your hair?" queriedCallaghan.
"My hair is tied with a ribbon too," said Audrey.
"All right," said Callaghan. "I wanted to know what you werewearing. The last time I saw you, you were wearing that dressing-gown. I thought you looked charming. I told you so. Do you remember?"
She said: "Yes, I remember. Did you want something?"
Callaghan grinned.
"I wanted to tell you that everything's pretty well allright," he said. "When I had that talk with you just before Icame away—when I told you about Esme and Blaize and all therest of it—there was just one little thing I didn't tellyou. I thought you'd better not know it then, but you can know itnow. The jewellery that Blaize stole from Margraud wasfake—the Major had switched it over. He'd pawned the realjewels for £20,000 to pay off that mortgage."
He heard her catch her breath. She said:
"My God...."
"It's all right," said Callaghan. "I've got the real stuff inan attaché-case here, and I don't think you need worry very muchabout the police. I don't think Esme need worry. If by any chanceanybody asks her any questions to-morrow about what happened ather meeting with Blaize, tell her to tell 'em the truth, thewhole truth and nothing but the truth. You understand?"
"I understand," said Audrey. "Is everything really going to beall right?"
"You bet it is," said Callaghan. He went on: "Let's change thesubject. I want to ask you a question. Do you remember that nightwhen we first met and you gave me £300 to stay out of this casebecause you yourself suspected that Esme had something to do withthat robbery? Do you remember when I bought you that drink in thelittle club in Conduit Street—which you left, by the way?I've got an idea that that was the evening you told me you didn'tlike private detectives."
She said: "Yes, that's right. I didn't."
Callaghan said: "How do you feel about 'em now?"
She laughed. It was the first time he had ever heard herlaugh.
"I don't think I want to discuss that with you on thetelephone," she said. "When are you coming to Margraud?"
Callaghan grinned.
"Probably in the middle of to-morrow night," he said, "if Ican get down there. If not, the next day."
"All right, Mr. Callaghan," she said. "When you arrive I'lltell you what I think about private detectives."
"Right," said Callaghan. "That's a bet."
He hung up.
DETECTIVE-INSPECTOR WALPERTON, whose featuresexpressed the most extreme and incredulous surprise, looked atCallaghan with his mouth slightly open. For the moment he wasunable to speak.
Sergeant Gridley, lately arrived back at Scotland Yard fromDevonshire, looked at his superior officer with an expressionwhich, if anything, expressed more amazement than that of thedetective-inspector.
Callaghan, an amiable smile wreathing his countenance, smiledat them both. He looked at his wrist-watch, noted that the timewas eight o'clock.
Walperton said: "Callaghan, we've been listening to youtalking since six o'clock. After I read your letter yesterday Ithought that you were going to tell me something, give me somesort of information that might enable me to move in thiscase."
He sighed heavily.
"It seems," he continued, "that the sum total of yourinformation adds up to the amazing fact that it is not possiblefor the police to arrest anyone at all in connection with theVendayne burglary, that all they can do is to mark the caseclosed."
He got up and walked over to the window. He stood for a momentlooking out on to the Embankment. Then he turned and walked backto his desk. He sat down, picked up a pen and began to stab theblotter viciously.
"I've never heard such damned impertinence in my wholeexperience as a police officer," Walperton continued."Never."
He looked at Gridley. Gridley shrugged his shoulders.Walperton's eyes went back to Callaghan, who was busily engagedin lighting a cigarette.
"Just listen to this, Gridley," said Walperton. His voice wassarcastic. "I'm going to summarise what Mr. Callaghan has toldus. I'm not going to embellish that summary with any opinions ofmy own. I'm merely going to state facts. When I've finished Iwant you to tell me quite candidly whether I'm stark, staring,raving mad, or whether I've misunderstood Mr. Callaghan."
He threw the pen down on the desk.
"First of all," he continued, "I would like to state theopening facts of the case. It seems that a burglary is committedat Margraud Manor. Valuable jewels, heirlooms of the Vendaynefamily, are stolen. They are worth somewhere in the region of£100,000 and are insured for that sum. The County Police arecalled in, and then, some time afterwards, we are asked to assistand take the case over. Everything about the burglary indicatesthat it was an inside job.
"Major Vendayne, the owner, in his lifetime, of the jewellery,does not, for reasons best known to himself, make a claim againstthe Insurance Company for some time, and even thenhedoesn't actually do it. His lawyer, Layne, does it, apparently atthe request of Mr. Lancelot Vendayne, who has an interest in thejewellery after the Major's death."
Walperton stopped speaking and looked at Callaghan. "Do youagree with all that up to the moment?" he asked.
Callaghan nodded. He was smiling pleasantly.
"You're doing very well, Walperton," he murmured.
Walperton continued: "Then, when the claim does go in, theInsurance Company don't pay. I don't blame them. So Mr. LancelotVendayne insists that a private detective be brought in on thecase in order to prove to the insurance people that the familyare doing everything in their power to discover the whereaboutsof the stolen jewellery.
"Mr. Callaghan begins to investigate, and I mustsay"—the sarcasm began to disappear from Walperton'svoice—"that he discovered a great deal more than we wereable to do. First of all, he discovers that the jewels that werestolen were not the Vendayne jewels but imitations, supplied byGabriel Ventura, who had taken over the real ones as security fora temporary loan of £20,000 which he had made to MajorVendayne.
"Mr. Callaghan informs us that there is nothing illegal in theaction on the Major's part. He points out that the originalVendayne Trust lays down that the jewelsmust be kept in asafe place. He says that the fact that the Major handed themover to Ventura as security for the loan does not break that rulein the original trust deed. Because, says Mr. Callaghan, Venturakept the jewels in a safe place as agent for the Major, and hiswillingness to return them on demand has been proved by the factthat he has already handed them over to Mr. Callaghan."
Walperton sighed again. He continued:
"Mr. Callaghan tells us that there was nothing illegal in theclaim against the Insurance Company. He says that the claim wasmade by Layne, the Vendayne solicitor, at the instigation of Mr.Lancelot Vendayne. He says that at the time the claim was madeboth these gentlemen believed that the actual Vendayne jewels hadbeen stolen. He says that their complete innocence of any illegalmotive is proved by the fact that immediately he informed Laynethat the stolen jewels were fakes, Laynewithdrew theclaim against the Insurance Company."
Walperton drew a deep breath. Sergeant Gridley's face hadassumed an expression intended to denote that he felt a great andunhappy sympathy for his superior.
The detective-inspector went on: "Now we come to the actualburglary. Mr. Callaghan admits that this burglary was a co-operative affair between Blaize, who is now dead, and Miss Esme Vendayne, who was his wife and whom he had, for some time,blackmailed into supplying him with money and, eventually, intoassisting him in the burglary.
"Miss Esme Vendayne is responsible for supplying Blaize withthe combination of the Vendayne safe, and for letting Blaize intothe house on the night of the burglary. But Mr. Callaghan informsus that no police action is possible against either of these twopeople, because (a) Blaize is dead, and no action can betaken against him for that reason, and (b) that Miss EsmeVendayne is innocent because at the time she supplied Blaize withthe combination and at the time she let him into her father'shouseshe knew that the jewellery was fake and thereforeworthless, and she knew that the real jewellery was in a safeplace. Her reason in making herself a party to the business withBlaize was so that she might be in a position to prefer an actualcharge against him and so rid herself of him once and forall."
A deep breath escaped from Gridley. It sounded almost like agroan of despair.
Walperton said: "Now we come to Ventura. Mr. Callaghan informsus that we cannot prefer any charge against Ventura, becauseVentura has done nothing illegal. Mr. Callaghan says that Venturagenerously advanced a sum of £20,000 to the Major and agreed tokeep the real jewels as security in a safe place as jointcustodian with the Major. Mr. Callaghan says that Ventura hasnever attempted to dispose of the jewellery and, as I havealready said, has handed it back on demand."
Walperton banged his fist down on the desk. His face wasscarlet.
"My God!" he said. "What a mess! The devil of it is I believethat Callaghan is right. I don't believe we've got a chargeagainst anybody. I believe from first to last everybody in thiscase has been playing their own hand, doing what they want,making fools of the County Police, making fools of ScotlandYard."
He paused for breath.
"Hell!" he said bitterly. "Here we've got the one person thatwe could have charged and he's dead.... He had to fall over acliff and kill himself!" Walperton gulped with rage. "Perhapsit's lucky for us heis dead," he spluttered. "If we'dpulled him in his defence would probably have been thatheknew the jewellery was false as well... that he just stole it forfun...!"
Callaghan blew a smoke-ring. He said:
"I'm damn sorry for you, Walperton. From your point of viewthis case has been a lot of trouble about nothing. However...let's get down to the thing that matters...."
Walperton pricked up his ears.
"So thereis something that matters?" he said."Amazing." His eyes narrowed. He shot a sharp look at Callaghan.He said: "Callaghan, I believe you've got something up yoursleeve. Mr. Gringall said..."
"That I always keep something up my sleeve," said Callaghanwith a grin. "Well... why not?"
He got up.
"Listen, Walperton," he said. "I told you that if I could doanything for you I'd do it. You've played ball with me. You'vepractically admitted that there's no police charge lying againstmy client, Major Vendayne, or any member of the Vendayne family.Youhave admitted that, haven't you?"
Walperton said: "Well... supposing I have? All right, for thesake of argument, Ihave."
Callaghan walked over to Walperton's desk. He stood looking atthe police officer. He was smiling pleasantly.
"I'm going to give you a damned good case, Walperton," hesaid. "But you've got to do something for me first...."
"What?" demanded Walperton. "What do I have to do first?" Hisvoice was suspicious.
"Nothing much," said Callaghan. "But I've an appointment to-night. I want to talk to you before I keep it. I'm going tosuggest that you pick me up at my office in Berkeley Square ateleven-thirty. I think I can promise you an interestingevening."
Walperton said nothing for a moment. He was thinking aboutGringall, remembering what Gringall had said about Callaghan.
Eventually: "All right," he said. "What canI lose?I'll pick you up at your office at eleven-thirty. But rememberthis..."
Callaghan put up his hand.
"Don't worry, Walperton," he said amiably. "You come round ateleven-thirty. I'm going to make you a promise.I'm stillgoing to give you the Vendayne case on a plate!"
He nodded to Gridley and went out.
CALLAGHAN lit a cigarette, tilted his office chair back andput his feet on the desk. He sat there for five minutes,pondering on possibilities, assessing chances. Then he took hisfeet off the desk and looked at his wrist-watch.
It was twenty-five minutes past eleven.
He picked up the telephone and rang down to Wilkie, the nightporter. He said: "I'm expecting Mr. Walperton. When he comesbring him up to my office, put him in my room and give him acigarette. I'm going up to my flat. I'll be down in a fewminutes."
He went out of the office, up the stairway to his apartment.He went into his bedroom and opened the wardrobe. He took out adark grey felt hat.
Inside the hat, fixed on a leather base, just underneath thefold in the hat, was a wire spring. Callaghan went to the chestof drawers, unlocked one of them and produced a .22 automatic. Heslipped the automatic into the spring inside the felt hat and putthe hat on his head. The butt of the automatic rested on the topof his head, taking the weight off the inside of the hat.
He went to the corner cupboard and took out a fresh bottle ofCanadian Bourbon. He unscrewed the cap, put the neck of thebottle in his mouth, took a long pull.
He went downstairs to the office. Walperton was sitting in achair, smoking. He said:
"I've got to admit I'm very curious about all this."
Callaghan sat down behind his desk. He grinned atWalperton.
"I've got to admit that you're entitled to a lot ofexplanation, Walperton," he said. "But not now."
He inhaled a mouthful of cigarette smoke.
"I take it," he said, "that you meant what you said earlierthis evening, that so far as the police are concerned they're notinterested in any members of the Vendayne family from the pointof view ofany sort of proceedings?"
"You can take that as official," said Walperton. "I've seen mychief about it. He agrees that there's no point in a prosecutionagainst anybody as regards the robbery. But there's one pointI've got to make."
Callaghan said: "Don't try and make it. I know what it is. Letit alone for the moment."
He got up and stood leaning against the mantelpiece looking atWalperton. He said:
"Gabby Ventura is expecting me to call round and see him withLancelot Vendayne. Lancelot owes Gabby money. Gabby thinks thatnow the Vendayne jewellery is in the market legally Lancelot willhave some money. Gabby wants to make certain of getting it."
Walperton said: "I thought Lancelot was your client?"
"You've thought a lot of things that have been a bit wide ofthe mark," said Callaghan cheerfully. "Let's go."
Walperton got up.
"You're a damned funny fellow, Callaghan," he said. "But Ibelieve you know what you're doing."
Callaghan walked towards the door.
"You'd be surprised," he said.
IT was just after twelve. Callaghan and Walperton stood at theback door of the Ventura Club. Callaghan put his hand into hispocket and produced his "spider" key. Walperton's eyebrows wentup in the darkness.
"So we're going inthat way," he said. "Illegalentry?"
Callaghan started work on the door lock, fiddling the "spider"until it found the wards of the lock.
"We should worry about that," he said.
He pushed the door open.
They began to walk up the stairs, Callaghan in front. Theywalked very quietly. At the top, Callaghan pushed open the doorand stepped into Gabby's sitting-room.
Ventura was sitting at his desk. He spun round as theyentered. He said, with a grin:
"How the devil did you get in, Slim? I was waiting to hear youring."
Callaghan said: "I had a key. This is Detective-InspectorWalperton, Gabby. He wanted to have a little talk with you. He'srather interested in one or two aspects of the Vendayne case.Mind you... there's nothing to worry about. Everything about theburglary and all that is quite in order, but there are one or twolittle points.... So I brought him along. I thought Lancelotcould wait until to-morrow."
Ventura got up.
"Surely," he said. "I'm glad to be of any help to anybody, anytime."
He walked over to the sideboard and produced whisky, a siphonand glasses.
He mixed three drinks. Callaghan and Walperton sat down on oneside of the table. Ventura, his drink in his hand, stood in frontof the fireplace.
Walperton put his hat on the table. Callaghan kept his on hisknee.
Ventura drank some whisky. He put the glass down on themantelpiece behind him. He said cheerfully:
"Well... what can I tell you, Mr. Walperton?"
He was at ease, expansive.
Callaghan said: "I'll do the talking, Gabby." He paused for amoment, then continued: "Let's get down to brass tacks. Theposition is a little bit difficult. You see, Mr. Walperton isn'tsatisfied with just one aspect of the Vendayne case. He's notsatisfied about Blaize."
Ventura looked at Callaghan. His eyes were very bright, veryintelligent. Walperton, his hands clasped easily on his knee, waswatching Callaghan.
Ventura said: "Well... what about Blaize?"
Callaghan went on almost casually.
"The devil of it is, Gabby," he said, "something serious hasturned up. Just at the time when I thought I'd got everythingvery nicely cleaned up; just at the time when I believed we couldcall the Vendayne case closed and all go home and be happy, thisthing has to turn up. It's the very devil...."
Ventura said impatiently: "Well... what is it?"
Callaghan said smoothly: "Don't be impatient, Gabby. Gettingimpatient won't get you anywhere."
He took out his cigarette-case and lit a cigarette. He took alot of time about lighting the cigarette.
Walperton was sitting very still. He was thinking. "My God...I wonder... ?"
Callaghan said: "Mr. Walperton isn't satisfied with theobvious explanation for Blaize's death. He believes that Blaizewas murdered. He doesn't believe that Blaize fell over the edgeof the cleft accidentally. He believes that possibly someonepushed him over."
Ventura smiled. He felt in his waistcoat pocket and produced asmall cigar. He bit the end off and lit it with a gold lighter.He said:
"Well... if you ask me, I think he might be right. After all,Esme Vendayne didn't like him very much, did she? When she methim.... "
He looked at Walperton and Callaghan. He shrugged hisshoulders expressively.
Callaghan said:"How did you know that Blaize had met EsmeVendayne on that night? How did you know? There's only one personcould have told you. And that person was Blaize!"
Ventura's jaw dropped. His mouth opened. Walperton caught hisbreath.
Callaghan went on: "Why don't you stop stalling, Gabby? Youknow damned well you killed Blaize. We've got a cut and driedcase."
Ventura laughed. It was a peculiar laugh. He said:
"You think you're damn' clever, don't you, Callaghan? Well...perhaps you'll tell me how and when and where I killed Blaize.You must be nutty. You ought to take more water with it or see adoctor or something...."
Callaghan said: "On the night that Esme Vendayne went to meetBlaize I knew all about it. I'd had the telephone wire tapped byClarissa, Esme's sister. After Esme had gone off to meet Blaize Isent Nikolls over to the Yard Arm. Then I went after Esme.
"When I found her she'd seen Blaize. She had tried to run awayfrom him with the fake bracelet that he had brought to show her,to prove to her that she'd made a fool of him. She was runninground the hillside edge of the cleft and he came after her. Hefell over the edge. She went on running, and dropped thebracelet. She tried to find it but she couldn't.
"I sent her home. I followed her and saw Nikolls. Nikolls hadbeen over to the Yard Arm. He saw the man Wallers who'd boughtthe place from Blaize. He was told by Wallers that Blaize hadsaid he would be back to see if any letters for him arrived bythe late post. Wallers had told you that too. Nikolls found a carparked near the cottage. It was your car. Your driving licencewas in the pocket.You were waiting somewhere in theneighbourhood for Blaize to come back for his post.
"After I'd seen Nikolls I sent him back to the cleft to lookfor the bracelet. I had a talk with Esme and then I went andjoined him. I climbed down the cleft and found Blaize's bodyagood fifty feet from the place where it ought to havebeen.
"Blaize's body ought to have been at the bottom of theincline. And the bracelet ought to have been lying aboutsomewhere on the cliff top, near the far edge of the cleft. Itwasn't. It was in Blaize's pocket.
"I got it at once. When Blaize went over the edge of the clefthe fell on to the ledge fifteen feet below. He lay there for alittle while and then climbed back to the top. Esme had gone.Blaize searched until he found the bracelet and put it in hispocket. Then he went and picked up his car, which he had parkedsomewhere in the vicinity, and drove back to the Yard ArmCottage. He went back to collect his post.
"You were waiting for him. You stopped him before he arrivedat the cottage. I imagine that Blaize was rather interested tomeet you. You probably first of all offered him money to keep hismouth shut about the jewellery being fake, but Blaize wasn'thaving any. He was going to tell the world the truth just to getback on Esme and ruin her once and for all.
"That didn't suit your book. Did it, Gabby? You wanted to keepthe Vendayne jewellery, and if once Blaize publicly stated thatthe stuff he'd stolen was fake then the game was up so far as youwere concerned. The Major would have to tell the truth about hisdeal with you and you'd have to hand over the jewellery.
"Blaize played into your hands. He told you about the row he'dhad with Esme. He told you how he'd fallen over the cleft edgeand climbed back again. So it was easy, wasn't it, Gabby? You hitBlaize over the head and knocked him out. You drove back with himin his own car to the nearest point to the cleft. You carried himdown there and you threw him over—unfortunately you threwhim over in the wrong place. Also, unfortunately for you, he hadsaid nothing to you about the bracelet. You didn't know that hehad it in his pocket.
"And you've just given yourself away absolutely and entirelyby telling us that Blaize had had a row with Esme, that he hadmet her, when the only person who could have told you that wasBlaize himself.
"It's too bad for you, Gabby," said Callaghan. "You were in ahell of a hurry to return the real Vendayne jewellery to mebecause you wanted to save your own skin. You knew that I woulddo everything I could to keep the Vendaynes out of this. Youthought that Wallers was the only person who'd seen you inDevonshire and that he would never connect you with Blaize'sdeath—why should he? Once the jewellery was returned to meyou'd be out of the case. No one would worry about you. Well...how am I doing, Gabby?"
Ventura said: "Very nice... very nice indeed... Callaghan.There's only one point you've missed. Let me show yousomething...."
He walked over to the roll-top desk and pulled the top up. Hespun round suddenly. Walperton saw the automatic in his hand andstiffened.
Ventura said: "All right. Well, I've still got a chance. Maybewith all this black-out I can still make a break. But I'm goingto fix you first, Mister bloody Callaghan. I'm going to..."
"Like hell you are," said Callaghan.
He fired through the hat on his knee.
Ventura looked surprised. The automatic pistol slipped fromhis fingers. He sagged at the knees, flopped on to the floor.
Walperton said: "Nice work, Callaghan... phew... I didn't likethat a bit. This boy's nasty."
He went to the telephone.
Callaghan kneeled down beside Ventura. Gabby was bleeding fromthe mouth.
Callaghan said: "Well... it's better this way, Gabby. Betterthan a six-foot drop."
Ventura said hoarsely: "You bastard... you..."
His head turned over as he died.
Walperton was saying: "Whitehall 1212? O.K. This is Walperton.Get me an ambulance round to the back of the Ventura Club. Yes...all right... make it snappy."
He hung up
Callaghan said: "Well, Walperton, I promised you the Vendaynecase on a plate. You've got it and I hope you like it.
Walperton grinned.
"By God, you're a marvel."
He sat down and produced a packet of cigarettes. He handed oneto Callaghan. He said, still grinning:
"Gringall told me the motto of CallaghanInvestigations—'We get there somehow and who the hell careshow'..."
He began to laugh.
"You're tellingme," he said.
EFFIE THOMPSON looked quickly at Callaghan when he came intothe office. He was wearing a blue suit with a faint chalk-stripe,a pale blue silk shirt and collar and a navy blue tie. His darkbrown shoes shone as the sun caught them.
She said: "Good-morning, Mr. Callaghan. I've seen the papersthis morning. It seems that you're quite a hero."
"Thank you, Effie," said Callaghan. "So long as I'm not likethe hero in that book you were reading...."
He went into his office.
Through the open doorway Effie Thompson could see the dayporter struggling along the passage with a Callaghan suitcase ineach hand. She sighed heavily.
Callaghan came out of his office. He said:
"Effie, I'm going to Devonshire. I shall probably be away fortwo or three weeks. I'll keep in touch. Nikolls will be back hereto-morrow. He can take over."
"Very good, Mr. Callaghan," said Effie.
Callaghan went on: "You might get through at once to MissAudrey Vendayne at Margraud. Tell her I'm on my way and that I'mnot telephoning personally so as to save time. Tell her I hope toarrive about three o'clock this afternoon."
He put on his hat, walked towards the door. He was almostoutside when she said:
"Mr. Callaghan... when I said you were a hero I certainly didnot mean that you were like the hero in the book I wasreading—the one who left the girl in the aeroplane while hewent off to seek aid...."
Callaghan grinned.
"I'm glad about that," he said.
She went on: "I've a message for you. Miss Audrey Vendaynetelephoned through at nine o'clock this morning. She gave medefinite instructions that you were not to be disturbed. Sheasked me to tell you that she received the telegram you phonedthrough to Kingsbridge last night. I was also to tell you thatshe and her family are eternally grateful to you and she expectsto be able to thank you personally shortly. The rest of hermessage was a little cryptic, Mr. Callaghan. She said that whenshe did see you she hoped to be able to continue with aconversation which she once had with you in a summer-housesomewhere."
She shut her notebook with a snap.
"Thank you, Effie," said Callaghan. "The message isn't at allcryptic. You'd better get through to Miss Vendayne and tell herI'm coming right away."
Effie Thompson looked at Callaghan primly.
"I hope it keepsvery fine for you, Mr. Callaghan," shesaid.
"You Can't Keep the Change," Collins White Circle Paperback, 1945
"You Can't Keep the Change," Avon Paperback, 1946
Roy Glashan's Library
Non sibi sed omnibus
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