Angela's Christmas Adventure: An Angela Marchmont Short Story

by Clara Benson

  ‘If that’s true, then it might be too late to get it back,’ said William.

  ‘I fear you’re right,’ said Angela.

  THAT EVENING, BARBARA went out with a friend to see a film, and Angela took the opportunity to make a telephone-call.

  ‘There you are,’ said Edgar Valencourt at the other end of the line. ‘I thought I should never get hold of you.’

  ‘School’s broken up, and we’ve been busy,’ said Angela. ‘But here I am.’

  ‘All set for Monday?’

  ‘Yes, although I’m rather apprehensive about the weather. It’s been threatening to snow heavily for days now, and I’m a little concerned I won’t be able to leave town.’

  ‘I shouldn’t worry,’ he said. ‘We had a sprinkling of snow here this morning, but the roads aren’t blocked and nobody seems to expect they will be, either.’

  ‘That’s good news. I hope it will hold off—I want to see the result of all this hard work you claim you’ve been doing. How is the place looking?’

  ‘Not bad at all. I’ve finally managed to have a vet look over the horses, and they’re not quite such a collection of old nags as I feared. One or two of them have rather long pedigrees, in fact. I think we shall do very nicely. And I’ve been talking to a chap who has two more he wants to sell me. He lost some money in the crash and needs to offload them quickly, so I ought to get them for a pretty good price.’

  ‘Splendid. And what about the house? Is it habitable yet?’

  ‘Yes, I should say so. The main rooms are decent enough, and the rest will be fine with a little more work. You’ll be quite comfortable—although don’t turn up expecting the Ritz.’

  ‘I don’t want the Ritz,’ said Angela. ‘I’m coming for the company, not the modern conveniences.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it. So, then, have you managed to amuse yourself without me?’

  ‘Perfectly well, thank you,’ said Angela. ‘As a matter of fact, I’ve been helping my neighbour search for a missing ring.’

  ‘Oh yes?’ he said, and she told him the story. ‘Rather a mystery,’ he said at last. ‘I hope you don’t think I did it.’

  ‘Of course not—you’re two hundred miles away,’ said Angela. ‘Quite apart from anything else,’ she added hurriedly.

  ‘Well saved,’ he said. ‘I assure you I’ve been keeping out of trouble. Well, then, what do you think happened to it? I agree it sounds rather as though it’s been stolen.’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said Angela. ‘I seem to have reached a dead end. It seems as though it must have been either Jim Dressler himself who did it, or Essie the parlourmaid, since nobody else came into the room.’

  ‘Can you be certain of that? Didn’t you say there was a terrace?’

  ‘Yes, but the door was shut, Essie said. It was firmly bolted when I looked at it. There was an open window, but it was far too small to climb through, and too high up for anybody to have reached in and taken the ring.’

  ‘Perhaps one of the visitors happened to be looking through the window and saw Essie accidentally suck it up into the machine, then took the opportunity to retrieve it afterwards.’

  ‘Oh, but then she’d have seen him, surely. And anyway, she denies absolutely having taken the cleaner anywhere near the ring.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know what the answer is,’ he said, ‘but if I were you, I should direct my attention towards that open window. You’d be surprised at the schemes human ingenuity can devise when it comes to taking other people’s things.’

  ‘I shall take your word for it,’ said Angela. ‘And I shall also take your advice and have another look at the window. I don’t like to see a pretty young girl done out of her engagement ring.’

  ‘Speaking of engagement rings—’ he began.

  ‘Oh, don’t let’s start all that again,’ said Angela. ‘I thought you’d given it up.’

  ‘I have no intention of giving it up until you say yes.’

  ‘But I have a hundred reasons to say no. And I shall keep on saying it every time you ask me.’

  ‘You’re a hard, cold woman,’ he said.

  ‘I am as ice,’ she agreed firmly.

  ‘Well, I shall find a way to melt you one day,’ he said.

  Angela changed the subject.

  ‘By the way,’ she said. ‘You might have told me you’re calling yourself Merivale now. I nearly got caught out by Mrs. Dressler the other day. Perhaps you might think to keep me informed whenever you change your name.’

  ‘Didn’t I mention it?’ he said. ‘Yes, I had thought of keeping the name Smart, but too many people know me by it, so in the end I decided to pick another one. Do you like it? I think it rather suits me.’

  ‘Do you choose your name to match your mood?’ said Angela, amused.

  ‘Not exactly. Still, I think I shall keep this one. It has a nice sound to it—and it has the advantage of starting with an M, too.’

  ‘Why is that an advantage?’

  ‘Why, because when we get married you won’t have to change all your monograms,’ he said.

  Angela could not help laughing at that.

  ‘You’re quite absurd,’ she said.

  From then on the conversation became purely personal, not to say nonsensical. At last Angela put the telephone down, and found to her surprise that they had been talking for much longer than she had realized. It was almost ten o’clock, and Barbara would be home at any minute. She walked over to the window and looked out into the night, although the room was brightly lit and it was difficult to see much. She turned and saw the Christmas tree, its glittering ornaments sparkling cheerfully. Barbara’s idea of turning it round seemed to have worked, for it looked straight enough. The shiny gold tinsel hanging in festoons from its branches made Angela think of the missing ring, and she drifted towards the dining-room. Her apartment was laid out in a mirror image of Mrs. Dressler’s, and so she stood in the doorway, trying to picture how the room looked as the old lady had it. There was the window that Essie said had been open, and below it and to the side was the mahogany table on which the ring had been placed, ready for packing up. But the window was too high up for anyone to have reached through it. How could it have been done, then?

  Just then Angela’s eye was caught by something on the wall near the floor. It was the inlet valve for the vacuum cleaner. She looked at it for a moment, then up at the window again. She laughed.

  ‘Of course!’ she said. ‘How silly of me.’

  ‘WELL? DID YOU speak to them?’ said Angela the next morning, as Barbara entered the apartment, banging the door behind her.

  ‘Yes, and you were quite right,’ said Barbara. ‘Essie leaned the vacuum cleaner against the wall near the window when she saw the spider. And Mrs. Dressler says Randolph Geary went out on the terrace for about five minutes to smoke a cigar.’

  ‘Splendid,’ said Angela. ‘Then it seems we have our solution to the mystery. But it won’t do to go around accusing people without first trying it out ourselves to see if it works. Marthe, go and fetch the vacuum hose.’

  ‘Very well, madame,’ said Marthe, and did as she was instructed. The hose consisted of a fifteen-foot length of rubber, ending in a long, metal tube and a cleaning attachment about a foot wide. Angela took the end and examined it.

  ‘Yes, this ought to do it. This is the attachment for cleaning floors, I believe?’

  ‘Yes, madame,’ said Marthe.

  ‘Then I expect it’s the same as the one Essie was using. What else do we need?’

  ‘A walking-stick,’ said Barbara. ‘I don’t suppose we have one of those, do we?’

  ‘Not that I know of,’ began Angela, but Marthe spoke up.

  ‘There is a walking-stick in the closet in the hall,’ she said, with a meaningful look at her mistress. ‘I think it was left here by accident, but I do not remember by whom.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ said Angela blandly. ‘I expect it was the man from the bank, or somebody like that.’

  ‘I’l
l get it,’ said Barbara, and did so.

  ‘This will do nicely,’ said Angela, examining the handle. ‘Now, which of us is closest in height to Randolph Geary? William, I suppose. Better fetch him, too.’

  ‘No, William is much too tall,’ said Barbara. ‘Randolph Geary’s rather on the short side for a man—not much taller than you, I should say.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Angela, and looked out onto the terrace without enthusiasm. The day was bleak and dark, and wet, sleety snow was falling thickly. She sighed. ‘Very well, in the interests of accurate experimentation, I suppose I’d better do it. Fire her up, Marthe.’

  Marthe attached the hose to the inlet valve and there was a sound like a whoosh, as the machine started up. Angela threw on her coat and opened the door to the terrace. A draught of freezing cold air rushed in. She stepped out gingerly and looked over the railing at the street far below.

  ‘Let’s hope I don’t miss my footing,’ she said. ‘That window is rather close to the edge.’

  Angela’s terrace had no table and chairs on it, so Barbara came out with an old wooden stool of suitable height and placed it below the little window. Angela stepped up onto it, being careful not to look down, and reached in carefully with the walking-stick. Marthe had propped the vacuum cleaner up against the wall next to the window. The rubber hose curved up in a loop from the end of the metal tube, and then down to the floor. After a little struggle, Angela succeeded in hooking the loop with the handle of the walking-stick. On her first try, the hose slipped from the stick and fell to the floor, but on her second it came up easily into her hand. Marthe had placed a largish bead from a broken necklace on a chair which had been set against the wall in the same place as Mrs. Dressler’s mahogany table. Angela approached the hose to the chair and smiled in satisfaction as the bead disappeared inside it with a little rattle. Then she lowered the hose gently until it was once again standing against the wall.

  ‘Twenty-one seconds,’ said Barbara, once Angela was safely back inside. ‘Nothing easier.’

  ‘He was lucky,’ said Angela. ‘If he’d dropped it as I did the first time he’d have had to give it up.’

  ‘Then it was as simple as that,’ said Barbara.

  ‘Yes,’ said Angela. ‘Mrs. Dressler and Mr. Geary senior were engaged with her papers while it was all going on. Randolph went out onto the terrace to smoke his cigar while he waited, and just happened to spot the ring and the vacuum cleaner through the dining-room window. Essie and Jim’s attention was occupied by the spider, so he nipped back into the drawing-room for his father’s walking-stick, stood on a chair and picked up the ring as you saw me do just now. Then he went downstairs, retrieved it from the waste pan and bribed the janitor to keep quiet about it.’

  ‘Where is the ring now, then?’

  ‘I don’t know. We’ll have to get William on to it. Perhaps Randolph hasn’t disposed of it yet.’

  She summoned William, and instructed him to keep a watch on the Gearys’ apartment for the rest of the day.

  ‘If Randolph Geary comes out, then don’t let him out of your sight,’ she said. ‘It’s a slim hope, but there’s just a small possibility that he’s been hawking the thing about in attempt to get the best price possible for it.’

  ‘I won’t lose him, ma’am,’ William promised, and departed on his task.

  There was no use in waiting about for him to return, so Angela and Barbara went out, as Barbara wanted to see the Christmas tree at Madison Square Park. The sleet had turned into proper snow now, and they huddled up in their warm coats and scarves, and stopped to buy hot chocolate and admire the goods displayed in the brightly-lit shop windows. A brass band was playing carols by the Christmas tree, and they listened to it for some time with great enjoyment, and watched the bustle of people hurrying to and fro. It was all very pleasant. Angela thought back to that dark period of last year when it had seemed that all was lost, and thanked her stars that she was now in a position to enjoy this new life. All that was needed to make it a perfect Christmas was for the weather to hold, but that was out of her hands. Still, there was no reason not to be sanguine; her good luck had seen her through until now, and she trusted it would continue until Monday, at least.

  When they returned in the late afternoon, they found William waiting for them, looking very pleased with himself. They soon found out why, as he held something out to Angela.

  ‘You’ve found it!’ she exclaimed. ‘Well done, William. I take it you didn’t speak to him directly.’

  ‘No, ma’am,’ he replied. ‘I kept in mind what you said about not wanting to cause trouble, and just followed along behind him to see what he did. At first I thought he must have already pawned it, because he didn’t seem to have any particular destination in mind, and looked as though he’d just come out for a stroll. But then he suddenly dived into the subway and I had to run after him. He got off downtown, and I followed him to a place a couple of blocks East of Union Square. He went straight to it, so I guess he must have already known about it. He came out after about twenty minutes, and I waited until he was out of sight then went in, and they had it all right. I had to buy it back.’

  ‘I thought you might,’ said Angela. ‘Still, we have the ring, and that’s the main thing. We shall settle up later, William, but first, Barbara and I shall go and see if Mrs. Dressler is at home. You won’t mind a little play-acting, will you, Barbara?’

  Barbara was only too enthusiastic. Angela told her what she was to do, and they went out together.

  ‘Oh, Mrs. Marchmont,’ said Mrs. Dressler as she opened the door. ‘You’re just in time to celebrate with us. Frances and Jim are going to be married! Now isn’t that just the most wonderful thing?’

  They entered and found the young couple sitting on a sofa together, looking very pink and embarrassed, but happy. Congratulations were exchanged all round, at which they went even pinker.

  ‘Then you’ve found the ring?’ said Barbara. ‘I was going to ask whether I might have another look.’

  ‘No,’ said Mrs. Dressler. ‘I think we’ll have to give it up as lost, but you may take another look if you like, dear.’

  Barbara jumped up with alacrity and went into the dining-room. There was the sound of loud thumping, and Angela winced a little, wondering whether Barbara could play her part convincingly.

  ‘I propose a toast,’ said Mrs. Dressler, once the arrangements for the wedding had been discussed to everybody’s satisfaction. ‘We have some mulled apple juice that ought to be nicely ready by now.’

  Before she could ring the bell for Essie, Barbara came in, looking flushed and triumphant.

  ‘I’ve found it!’ she said loudly, and held out the ring.

  Everybody exclaimed in astonishment, and there were a few moments in which several people tried to speak at once. Then Essie came in, saw the ring and burst into tears, and had to be consoled.

  ‘But where was it?’ said Jim, when he could make himself heard. ‘I looked everywhere, I swear it.’

  ‘It was at the other end of the room, behind that little chest of drawers,’ said Barbara. ‘We didn’t look very hard there, did we? I think it must have fallen off the table and somebody must have kicked it accidentally. But look, a stone has fallen out.’

  ‘Oh, that’s no matter,’ said Mrs. Dressler. ‘I was going to have it replaced anyway. Well!’ she said, clapping her hands together in joy. ‘If that isn’t just the best thing! If anything could have made Christmas perfect this was it. Thank you so much, my dear.’

  Barbara allowed herself to be fussed over, and then Jim, with great ceremony, slid the ring onto Frances’ finger, and they all drank mulled apple juice, and then Angela said they really ought to be going, as they had only meant to stop for a few minutes.

  ‘Shall you be going to church tomorrow, Mrs. Marchmont?’ said Mrs. Dressler as they prepared to leave. ‘The last service before Christmas is always such a beautiful one, and they have the children’s procession, you know. It’s quite delightful.
I make a point of never missing it.’

  ‘Oh, do let’s, Angela,’ said Barbara.

  ‘Well, if we’re celebrating Christmas we might as well do the thing properly,’ said Angela, and so it was agreed.

  AS MRS. DRESSLER had promised, the church service was a rousing one, and afterwards the congregation gathered in little knots to converse and exchange greetings of the season. A group of well-wishers stood around Frances and Jim, to congratulate them on their engagement. Willard Geary and his son Randolph were part of this group, and Angela was watching for her opportunity. At last, after everyone had had their say, Frances removed her glove to show off the ring, and Angela almost laughed at the astounded expression on Randolph Geary’s face, as he saw the very object he had pawned only the day before being shown around proudly by Frances Ellery. He went quite white in the face, glanced around as though he expected to see a policeman bearing down on him with a pair of handcuffs, and then began to back away carefully from the little group.

  ‘Might I have a quiet word?’ said Angela, stepping in front of him before he could walk off.

  ‘Ah, certainly,’ he said. His manner was distracted, but her next words brought him sharply to attention.

  ‘You see we found the ring,’ she said.

  He stared at her in astonishment.

  ‘What?’ he said.

  ‘The ring. The one you stole. Very clever of you, of course, but rather uncivil too, don’t you agree? Especially at this time of year, when one might hope to see a little more goodwill than usual towards one’s fellow man.’

  ‘How—’

  ‘I won’t bore you with all the details of how we deduced it was you, but you’ve probably realized by now that you were seen pawning the thing, and so there’s no use in denying it.’

  At that he seemed to sag. His face crumpled.

  ‘Well, it seems you know everything. But I guess you don’t know how much I needed the money,’ he said. ‘Now what am I to do? I’m still in debt, and now you’re going to call the police, and it will kill my father to find out I’m a thief.’