The Wellington Bureau: A Quartermain Mystery

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The Wellington Bureau: A Quartermain Mystery Page 5

by Daphne Coleridge

he was stifling a smile. Perhaps it was the judge’s pompous tones. Or perhaps merely the gradual dawn of relief as the judge unwillingly edged himself towards a lenient sentence.

  “...particularly as the two young men who, it could be said, are victims of the unemployment that blights our times, have been guaranteed the security of reputable employment by a, er, no doubt respected member of our society...”

  Ben gave Anna a broad wink which the judge could not hope to see. Anna turned to the Brigadier,

  “Are you sure you didn’t have a word with this venerable pillar of the establishment?”

  After the court case was concluded, good manners compelled Anna to accept an invitation to dine with the Brigadier and Giles Banks-Enfield. She consented all the more willingly because she had seen nothing of the Brigadier in the months immediately preceding the trial. Indeed, she had seen more of the Bird family. The twin’s parents turned out to be a mild, obliging father and a doting mother. They were quite happy that she should take an interest in the sons whom, they assured her, were mischievous rather than bad. The willingness of the twins to accept her offer of a job was confirmed when she admitted that the bulk of their initial duties would be to purchase and chauffeur a suitable car. By suitable, they were assured, she meant anything that they took a liking to within a degree of financial reason. It was not surprising that, with the susceptibility of youth, they were soon quite devoted to their attractive and seemingly eccentric benefactress.

  “Quite a satisfactory outcome.” Banks-Enfield appeared to have chosen his preferred dish with a mere glance at the menu. He sat back in his chair and undid his waistcoat to bear witness to previous indulgences. “Better, perhaps, than I expected. I thought they might get a short spell or a suspended sentence. But probation...quite lenient of the judge. And he is not known for leniency.”

  “He wasn’t lenient to the third man, John Martin,” commented the Brigadier, surveying the menu with great care.

  “He wasn’t my client!” Banks-Enfield gave a deep laugh which sent ripples of vibration through his plump body.

  “Are you sure you don't know the judge?” enquired Anna of the Brigadier.

  “As it happens, his son is in my old regiment. I do not know if such a connection constitutes knowing him.” He did not lift his eyes from the menu to see Anna’s smile.

  The waitress came and took their orders. The wine waiter was close on her heels.

  “I don’t know how we shall manage this,” said the Brigadier. “I shall have a Muscadet myself, but I know that I won’t get Giles to touch anything but Champagne. Lady Quartermain?”

  Anna gave a dismissive shrug. “I’m not wine-proud. I’ll drink half your Muscadet and half of Mr Banks-Enfield’s Champagne. Not in the same glass,” she added to the waiter, who had given an involuntary shudder. The Brigadier gave his instruction to the wine waiter. He reappeared shortly, and Anna shook her head when the Brigadier offered her his chosen wine to taste. He then did so himself and nodded to the waiter. The Champagne arrived in an ornate silver bucket and the barrister indicated that his glass should be filled, with a gesture that implied that as long as it was cold and fizzy and had “Champagne” on the label he would be quite content.

  “I’ve had plenty of opportunity for wine sampling recently,” admitted Anna. ‘‘My palate has not been educated, but my mood frequently improved by the exercise.”

  Banks-Enfield laughed conspiratorially. This was an attitude to wine which he understood.

  “I have a fridge full of Pouilly Fume,” she told the Brigadier. “It has the virtue of being one of the few wines I can distinguish from any other. Even you may not dislike it. If you came to sample a glass you would be the first person to enter my new home.”

  “Have you settled in?”

  “I’ve been there for over three months, so I am as settled as I’ll ever be. It is an office really, so my approach to furnishing and decorating has been utilitarian. I have a filing cabinet and a desk, somewhere to play music, and somewhere to chill the wine. The filing cabinet and desk are full of magazines as I’m rather short of files at present. So you will see that I’m not bored.” Anna had summed up her life of the past months as completely as she could. She knew that the Brigadier would be interested although he would not ask for details unless she volunteered them.

  “An office? What is your line of business?” Banks-Enfield enquired.

  “Investigation,” said Anna, watching the Brigadier’s stony, unchanging expression as she spoke.

  “Goodness!” exclaimed the barrister. “What sort of cases do you take?”

  “None. In the three months since I established myself as an investigator, I haven’t had a single client. I’m really rather glad. I have plenty of time to read in peace. I think that in the unlikely event of someone turning up with a case for me to solve, or a suspect to follow, I should deeply resent the intrusion. That is why I’ve made no effort to advertise the existence of the Wellington Bureau. Apart from you two, I don’t believe anyone knows of its existence.”

  Banks-Enfield gave his deep, rippling laugh again. “Odd way to run a business. I won’t be investing in your enterprise.”

  “I don’t believe that Lady Quartermain is serious,” said the Brigadier.

  “I’ve bought a camera as well as a filing cabinet,” said Anna, in as earnest a tone as she could muster.

  “Well, I like the name,” said the barrister, content that she was just teasing them. “The Wellington Bureau!”

  “Named after the soldier?” enquired the Brigadier, hoping that she was just teasing them, but not as convinced of the fact as he would have liked to be.

  “No. After the dog.”

  “No doubt the dog was named after the soldier,” suggested Banks-Enfield.

  “After the boot, actually. According to Andrew he used to chew them as a puppy.”

  “Have you been down to Quartermain House?” asked the Brigadier.

  Anna shook her head.

  “No, I won’t go to the house for a while. I expect that Douglas has everything under control. I saw something of Toby whilst I was staying in St George’s Square; but he was out a lot and very kindly didn’t clutter the place with his friends whilst I was there. Eventually I’ll get round to inviting him to my new office. He might know of some possible clients.”

  “You mustn’t isolate yourself. Toby could introduce you to some of his friends.”

  Anna smiled, but said nothing. Then, deciding that her affairs had been talked of quite enough for one evening, she turned to Banks-Enfield,

  “How did you like the Bird twins? Or is a barrister always impartial?”

  Having turned the focus of the conversation to Banks-Enfield, they spent the evening listening to legal anecdotes, some of which were amusing. It was only as they were parting that the Brigadier had the opportunity to tell Anna that he would certainly come to see her new home and she to inform him of her Holland Park address.

  Toby was Anna’s first visitor. She had not actually got round to telling him the address, let alone inviting him, but neither of these details stopped the young viscount turning up on the doorstep and demanding admittance.

  “I’m glad you didn’t bring a swarm of friends.”

  “After the frosty reception I used to get from my father, I’ve learnt better. May I kiss you stepmother?” his tone, as always, was flippant.

  Anna permitted a kiss and a hug. “Come to my office!” They mounted the stairs to the second floor, from which the strains of Mozart sounded, strident and threatening. “I’d got as far as Dies Irae and Beaujolais. I’ll spare you the torment but pour you some wine.” Anna took the half empty bottle from the fridge. Toby, meanwhile, was opening drawers and examining the contents. The bottom drawer of the filing cabinet contained a case of wine, a dictionary and a volume of poetry by Larkin. The top drawer contained a biro and a dead fly. The fly he picked up fastidiously between two fingers.

  “I’m surprised you’ve been here
long enough for corpses.”

  “The corpse came with the cabinet. But, talking about corpses – I am now an investigation agency. You may tell your friends. If any of them has an unidentified body in their bathroom or any such commonplace problem, just send them to me.”

  “My friends must be dull. I can’t recall any of them ever finding a corpse. I don't think we can manage anything more exciting than the occasional burglary.”

  “Never mind. I’m called the Wellington Bureau. Just spread the name about amongst selected friends and we’ll see what happens. I’ve even had some cards made. Strictly for my own amusement. I’ll give you a dozen before you go.”

  “Where are you accomplices?” Toby glanced around at the large room with its desk, settee, bookshelves, fridge, and expanse of otherwise empty space.

  “Who? Oh, Bill and Ben?”

  “Is that really what they are called? How quaint.”

  “Mothers do not always take the care they should over diminutives. Their mother had Gladstone and Disraeli in mind.”

  “Any chance of a spot of lunch?” Toby, having looked in or on everything else in his boundless curiosity, peeped hopefully into the fridge. Apart from several bottles of Beaujolais there was a partly eaten piece of cheese and a carton of milk. Toby sniffed it and passed it to Anna, who took it from him and emptied the contents down the sink.

  “I’ve been meaning to get rid of it in case Brigadier Butterworth turns

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