by Clara Benson
‘How much are your debts?’ said Angela.
He mentioned a sum that made her eyebrows rise.
‘Goodness,’ she said. ‘That is rather a lot. Can’t your father help?’
‘I guess he could, but I haven’t dared tell him about it. You see, it’s all gambling losses. I got in with this crowd of college fellows who were much wealthier than I, and thought nothing of dropping a thousand here and there on an evening’s fun. I guess my head was turned, and I found myself spending more than I could afford. Then my creditors started to want repayment and I couldn’t deliver the goods. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ve never done anything like this before.’
‘Have you stolen anything else?’ said Angela.
‘No, I swear it! That was the first time. I saw the ring through the window, and the idea came to me to suck it into the vacuum cleaner. I knew the dust went down to a pan in the basement, and thought it was worth a shot. But I wish I’d never done it. Now I’m a criminal, and Dad’s a lawyer, and if I’m disgraced then so will he be.’
Angela regarded him thoughtfully for a few moments.
‘Tell your father about your debts,’ she said. ‘The ring has been recovered, and Mrs. Dressler still believes it was merely lost, so as far as that’s concerned there’s no harm done. Go and confess to your father, and we’ll say no more about it.’
He stared as though he could not believe his ears.
‘Are you serious?’ he said.
‘Yes,’ said Angela. ‘It just so happens that I’m feeling kindly disposed to all mankind at the moment, and in the mood to give you a second chance. But don’t think for a moment that I’m letting you off. I shall be watching you closely from now on, and if I see the slightest inclination on your part to get up to tricks again, I shan’t hesitate to call the police. Is that clear?’
The relief on the young man’s face was almost palpable.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said. ‘Thank you. And merry Christmas!’
He hurried back towards the group outside the church, and Angela saw him standing by his father, looking like the most dutiful of sons. She shook her head. With any luck, the fright would do him good, and set him back on the right path.
The rest of Sunday was spent packing. Barbara, as predicted, had forgotten all about her laundry, and there was much ado to get her things into some semblance of decency before she went off to the Wheelers’. Marthe was also preparing to visit a cousin of hers in New Jersey, and Angela had her own things to get ready, and the atmosphere was one of suppressed excitement as everyone looked forward to their various trips. Angela still had one or two gifts to wrap, but to her annoyance found that they had run out of wrapping paper, and so sent Marthe out to get some. Her maid had just departed when Angela remembered something else she wanted, and ran out into the hallway after her. To her exasperation she saw that she was too late, for the lift doors were just closing, presumably with Marthe on the other side of them. She turned back with a sigh, then saw the man with the polka-dot bow tie walking along the corridor towards her. When he saw her, he smiled and bowed, and she remembered that he had first given her the idea that the ring might have gone into the vacuum cleaner. It was odd, she thought, how the smallest thing could set off a train of thought. She had no idea who the man was, but presumably he was foreign, since he did not appear to speak English. She hoped he would not be alone for the holidays.
‘Merry Christmas!’ she said cheerfully as he passed, and he nodded and smiled even more broadly, and disappeared down the corridor.
By Monday morning everything was ready. William had already left to catch his train, and Barbara was waiting for her friends to come and collect her. Marthe had not far to go, so was still fussing around Angela, making sure that she had everything she needed for her trip upstate. At last, Barbara was packed off, and Angela prepared to depart. The threatened blizzard had held off, and only a thin layer of crisp snow coated the ground. Indeed, the clouds seemed to be clearing away, and the occasional glimpse of sunshine could be seen. It was almost the perfect weather for a drive, and Angela was keen to set off. She bade Marthe goodbye and came out into the hallway, where she met Mrs. Dressler just emerging from her apartment.
‘Oh, I was hoping to catch you before you went,’ said the old lady. ‘I just wanted to wish you a happy trip to Saratoga.’
‘Thank you,’ said Angela. ‘I hope you won’t be alone for the next few days.’
‘No, Frances and Jim are coming to stay. We’ll have a fine time, I dare say, although of course it won’t be the same without Ernie. He was always the life and soul of the party, especially at this time of year.’
‘Do you miss him very much?’ said Angela sympathetically.
‘Yes, I do,’ said Mrs. Dressler. ‘Fifty-four years we were married, and never one cross word passed between us. We were the happiest couple. I wish you’d met him, Mrs. Marchmont. He was so very handsome—I thought so, at least. And he made a point of being well turned-out, too—always a clean shirt and bow tie every day, and shoes that were shined till they gleamed.’
Angela glanced down the hallway. There was no-one to be seen.
‘A bow tie?’ she said tentatively.
‘Yes,’ said Mrs. Dressler. ‘Polka-dots. It always had to be polka-dots. It was a little affectation of his, but I didn’t mind it. He had the kindest heart, and everybody liked him. I wish he were still here.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘You’ll think me silly, I dare say, but sometimes I have the strangest feeling that he is somewhere about, just out of view, and that if I were to turn around suddenly I’d see him, standing there, smiling at me. That’s the effect he had on me, I guess.’ She shook herself. ‘Well, you don’t want to stand here listening to my nonsense when you have a long journey ahead of you. Now, you will drive carefully, won’t you?’
Angela promised she would, and Mrs. Dressler smiled and went back inside. Angela stood for a moment, looking cautiously up and down the corridor, then shook her head and went to call the lift. She had a cosy house, a roaring fire and a warm welcome to look forward to, but they were still two hundred miles away, so the sooner she started the better.
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New to Angela? Read more about her in the Angela Marchmont mysteries.