The Case of the Four Friends

by J. C. Masterman

  ***

  Three men were sitting, and one of them was yawning, in the private room of the manager of the Magnifico. One was the Brigadier, whose custom it was to unbend at times when his projects had gone according to his plans. He never failed to attend any function at the Magnifico, but he did not make himself conspicuous, and his fancy dress, which he still wore, might have been intended to suggest a seafaring man, a native of any Mediterranean country. It was well enough, he felt, but no one was likely to look at it twice. Now he was relaxing, for he felt that the evening had been a success, and that he could cast any anxiety from his mind. Opposite him in two comfortable armchairs were his manager, Curtis, and a large, square-looking man, whom the other two addressed as Inspector, and who was, in fact, Inspector Riley of the C.I.D.

  ‘I think’, said the Brigadier, ‘that the time has come when you might reasonably take a drink. Curtis, find the Inspector a drink and give me one at the same time. What shall it be, Inspector?’

  Inspector Riley was a conscientious officer and a successful one. His friends declared that his progress in the service was due to his industry and his reliability; his enemies were apt to attribute it to other reasons. He had experience, and this had taught him to refrain in all cases from the criticism of his superiors, and invariably to give them the credit for any achievements of his own. As a result, promotion had been rapid and his reputation stood high. For the rest he was a strong, hardy-looking man with shrewd eyes and an open expression which inspired confidence. In moments of excitement or stress his voice was apt to betray his Scottish origin – at other times he had the appearance rather more of a Yorkshireman. In the exercise of his duties he had taken no drink that evening, and at the Brigadier’s words he ceased to yawn and responded with alacrity.

  ‘Yes, I think we can call it a day, so far as tonight’s concerned,’ he began, and then realized that he had made a joke of the kind which appealed to his rather pawky sense of humour. ‘Ah, that was rather good – “call it a day, so far as tonight’s concerned”.’ He repeated the phrase, and memorized it. ‘And that being so, I should not say no to a glass of whisky, especially if it were hot with a slice of lemon in it.’

  ‘An excellent selection. I think I’ll have the same. Well it was a great success, the ball; I never remember to have enjoyed one more. Our fancy-dress ball at the New Year, you know, Inspector, is a long-established Tradition of the Hotel.’

  A note of reverential awe came into the Brigadier’s voice whenever he mentioned the Magnifico. One of his friends had remarked that when he spoke of it, it sounded as though all the nouns he used must start with capital letters. To Inspector Riley it seemed that in his host’s mind the Magnifico fancy-dress ball was a tradition not much inferior in importance, and not much less time-honoured, than the celebration of New Year’s Day itself. In point of fact, the fancy-dress ball was being held that year only for the third time, so there was little excuse for calling it a tradition. Certainly the Brigadier had persuaded himself that the ball had been held over a long period of years, and he would have been genuinely surprised had anyone suggested to him that it was only a thing of recent date. A Tradition is soon established if the will to build it up is there.

  Curtis was busily mixing the drinks, and the Inspector watched the preparations being made with obvious satisfaction.

  ‘It may be a good advertisement for the hotel to have a millionairess here,’ said Curtis a little crossly, ‘but I’m bound to say that I could wish that Miss Dahlia Constant had had the good sense, and good taste, to come along without £30,000 worth of jewellery. After all, this is a respectable hotel, and you know that we did have that wretched jewel robbery here this time last year. We don’t want to make that sort of thing an annual event.’

  The Brigadier had winced visibly when his manager had referred to the Magnifico as a respectable hotel, for he felt that the phrase was wholly out of keeping with its dignity; but he did not quite know how best to correct any false impression which might have been made on the Inspector.

  ‘Miss Constant’s pearls are not the only jewels of value here,’ he remarked a little stiffly. ‘I should myself estimate the rubies which the Rajah has with him as being at least as valuable, though I admit that Miss Constant is criminally careless in leaving her pearls lying about. Last night, so I’m told, they were left on her dressing-table when she came down to dinner, and she seemed to be entirely unconcerned when they were found and brought down to her. But there are other, and I may say greater, issues involved.’ He glanced at Riley. ‘Do you think, Inspector, that we should now be justified in letting Curtis into our little secret?’

  ‘Pompous ass,’ thought Riley to himself; aloud he replied with exemplary gravity. ‘Yes, Mr Gerard, I think that there can be no possible objection to putting Mr Curtis into the picture.’ Then, as he observed the steaming glass which had been put beside him, he added, ‘Indeed, I think he should be put fully and completely into the picture.’ He tasted his drink with appreciation and began to refill his pipe.

  ‘I concur,’ said the Brigadier. ‘Well, Curtis, you of course know about all the guests whom we have in the hotel, and you know that three parties are enjoying government hospitality. You also know that they are very distinguished and important people.’

  Curtis nodded. He was not unaware of his employer’s foibles.

  ‘I am not very much concerned with the Rajah nor with that mid-European statesman, who as you know may well be Prime Minister in his own country in a few months’ time, but you will understand to whom I refer when I mention that gentleman of high rank, who might – I only say might – some day wear a crown if the monarchy should be restored in his native country.’

  Curtis nodded to signify that he understood.

  ‘Now he has given me great anxiety, through no sort of fault of his own. To put it in a nutshell, he has for some weeks been receiving anonymous letters of a threatening kind. As a rule, I pay little or no attention to such communications, but in this case I confess to a certain nervousness, for all the letters (and there were several) made the same threat. They all declared that the Duke (if I may call him so) would be assassinated before the year came to an end. The very idea of a murder at the Magnifico is too horrible to contemplate, yet it seemed to me that the last night of the year, and our fancy-dress ball, might give the assassin his chance. The more I thought over the matter the more serious it appeared to me, and so I decided to ask Scotland Yard for police protection for the Duke. That is why the Inspector is with us.’

  The Inspector acknowledged the truth of this account. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘one is never quite sure with anonymous letters. Usually they mean nothing at all, but sometimes they are of great importance. You were certainly right in taking all possible precautions, and I’m glad to think that it has all turned out well.’ He did not think it necessary to give any hint of the real reception which had been given to the Brigadier’s appeal by those in authority at Scotland Yard. They had, in fact, treated the anonymous letters with some contempt, since the Duke had been, as he alleged, receiving them for years, and because it was the official view that he wrote them himself in order to create interest in his own doings and his own importance. They were, however, keenly interested in the doings of the mid-European statesman, and seized the opportunity offered them of sending Riley to the Magnifico where he could keep an eye on him. Nor did the Inspector give the slightest hint of his own views about the matter, though he was fairly sure in his own mind that the Brigadier had asked for police protection as a method of advertisement. The Brigadier’s flair for advertisement he both disliked and admired. Curtis, a little timidly, ventured to put in his oar.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, ‘I’m glad to know these details, for of course I realized that special precautions had to be taken. But I still think that a jewel robbery is perhaps an even more real danger. After all, the jewels brought here by Miss Constant, and by the Rajah for that matter, are excessive and they’ve had a good dea
l of publicity in the Press. Of course,’ he added hastily, ‘the Inspector being here for other reasons gives us additional security, and I’m sure that our own precautions, backed up by him, are more than adequate. Still, as Manager, I have to think of these things, and I can’t help worrying a bit about them.’

  ‘Quite right, Curtis, of course you have to take every precaution, and I’m sure that you don’t forget any of them – and I agree that the Magnifico does offer temptation to a jewel thief. But I think that even the Inspector could hardly find fault with our precautions.’

  The whisky in the Inspector’s glass had reached a very low level, and he flashed a mute appeal to Curtis, which did not pass unobserved by the manager.

  ‘I don’t expect I could,’ he replied, ‘but naturally it’s all most interesting to me. Tell me exactly how you protect yourselves against burglary and I’ll see if I can offer any helpful suggestions.’ His glass, he observed, was again agreeably full.

  ‘That’s easily done,’ said the Brigadier. ‘In the first place I have had a new system of burglar alarms fitted all over the hotel. It was only finished a week or two ago, and I’m confident that it’s a most efficient system. Then the local police send up two constables on an occasion like this, and they keep a watch on the outside of the hotel Curtis has told you, I think, of the robbery we had last year. The thieves got away with very little, but it was something of a warning, and we don’t want to run the risk of a second attempt from outside. That, I think, disposes of the matter of an outside job. Then inside the hotel we have, of course, our hotel detective. He has orders to watch all the guests, and, of course, the servants too – though they are a wonderfully reliable crowd. That’s about all, I think, except that Curtis’s eye is everywhere, and I’m not exactly asleep myself.’

  ‘It all sounds very well covered to me,’ said the Inspector politely, ‘and I think that an outside job would have little hope of success; but hasn’t your hotel detective rather a large field to cover?’

  ‘Not so large as you might think. At least half our guests have been here before, and many of the others are well-known people about whom there can be no suspicion. The detective tells me that he’s been all through the list with a small-tooth comb, so to speak, and he can’t put a finger on any character who is in the least to be suspected.’

  ‘Then that all sounds satisfactory too,’ said the Inspector. His private opinion was that the precautions were superfluous, but he deemed it tactful to conceal his thoughts and play up to his hosts.

  ‘Still, you know,’ he said, ‘there is some danger, or even some likelihood, of an attempt at robbery in a place like this.’ Mercifully for himself he had stopped the words ‘joint like this’, which had come to his lips. ‘Have you no suspicions yourself of any of the guests? There seem to me to be a number of foreigners. What about that Dr Brendel, whom I saw earlier in the evening? I’m always cautious myself where foreigners are concerned, especially Huns.’

  The Brigadier laughed. ‘Oh no, you need have no anxiety on that score. Brendel is a well-known international lawyer, and as a matter of fact he was most helpful to me a few days ago when I was asking for police protection from London. There was some sort of difficulty or hold-up, and he telephoned to someone in Whitehall on my behalf. I don’t know whom he approached, but he certainly smoothed out all the difficulties in the minimum of time. I don’t know who his friends are, but he certainly has influence. Besides, he was most interested in our burglar alarm; I spent half an hour this morning showing him all about it. He’s as safe as houses.’

  ‘Ah, well,’ said the Inspector a little grudgingly; ‘then I suppose we needn’t worry about him. What about the other foreigners?’

  ‘Several of them come through government hospitality and the rest we know. And, as I said before, Curtis or I either know or know about nearly all the British guests as well.’ ‘Who are those four friends of Brendel’s?’ asked the Inspector, who seemed unwilling to be convinced without a struggle.

  The Brigadier laughed again. ‘It’s true they’re newcomers,’ he said, ‘but of all men in the world I should think they were the most unlikely to be concerned with crime. Two of them are solicitors, one’s an eminently respectable financier, and the fourth – though I believe he’s a bit of a wild chap – is something of a figure in society and is the son of an Irish peer. They’re safe, if anyone is.’

  The Inspector settled himself more comfortably in his chair. ‘Then I think’, he said, ‘that we need have no anxiety at all. In any case, the night is nearly over, and I imagine that we can soon be certain that nothing untoward is going to happen. Speaking as a professional, you know, I’m almost sorry that there won’t be an outside job tried on, for I’d like to see your alarm system tested. It’s interesting to know how effective these things are, and if–’

  It was at that moment that the burglar alarm blared out its warning, and in an instant transformed Inspector Riley from a chatty conversationalist into a most efficient police officer. Drake is said to have finished his game before he set out to demolish the Spaniards, but Inspector Riley wasted no time in finishing his whisky – perhaps because it was finished already.

  ‘My God, it is an outside job,’ he ejaculated, as with a speed of movement astonishing in a man of his size and weight he rushed out of the room.

  Chapter Nine

  A curiously assorted party was seated in the manager’s room at half past eight that morning. Inspector Riley, now firm, precise, and business-like, and most unlike the relaxed and uninhibited conversationalist of the night before, was seated at the table with papers and notes in front of him. Behind him, and somewhat in the background, were the Brigadier and Brendel – in front the four friends. Their appearance and clothes presented a rather curious contrast. To all seeming Bannister might have passed a quiet night with seven or eight hours of uninterrupted slumber; he was carefully shaved and dressed, and had already breakfasted. There was no hint in his appearance that he had a worry in the world. Gradon, too, showed no trace of the previous night’s occurrences. He was dressed ready for golf, and seemed only anxious to get away to the links, even though he had not yet found time to swallow any breakfast. With Toby Barrick and Charles Sandham the case was very different. Toby had evidently pulled on the first clothes that came to hand, Charles was still in pyjamas and dressing-gown; both looked to be, and certainly were, in a state of extreme nervous tension.

  ‘You don’t look all that fit for our match this morning,’ Gradon had sneered as they entered the room; but Toby had not answered–perhaps he had not heard or comprehended the remark. Now they were sitting uneasily in front of the Inspector, for each had been summoned from his bedroom by an urgent message from the Brigadier, and they had not met since they had parted the night before.

  ‘Now gentlemen,’ said the Inspector, ‘let me say that I am most grateful to you for coming here at this inconveniently early hour. Perhaps I am taking an unusual and unorthodox course in asking you to come, but it did seem to me, and to Mr Gerard, that a conversation off the record might be useful. You see, some very odd occurrences took place in the hotel last night, and since I am told that all of you were up when, or shortly after, the burglar alarm went off, it seemed to me that you might be able to help me. I think it was Dr Brendel who suggested to me that you might possibly be able to assist me. I should explain that I am only making a preliminary inquiry, for the local police naturally have charge of this affair. Since I am here, however, for another reason, they have asked me, through Mr Gerard, to sort out some of the facts for them and help them if I can. Of course I need not tell experienced persons such as yourselves that you are under no obligation to tell me anything if you prefer to wait till the official inquiries are made. This is only an “off the record” talk. I wonder if you are able and willing to give me your help.’

  ‘But what were the strange occurrences of last night?’ asked Bannister quickly before the others could speak. ‘I heard the alarm, of course, but
I’ve no notion what it was all about.’

  ‘It is thought that a jewel robbery was attempted, or at least contemplated,’ was the cautious answer.

  The Inspector’s head did not move, but his eye passed quickly over each of the four friends. He, and Brendel also, noticed the sudden easing of tension, the obvious relief of each when he spoke of burglary.

  ‘Good gracious,’ exclaimed Bannister, ‘and did the thieves get away with much? That’s a bad business for your hotel, Gerard.’

  ‘Nothing was stolen,’ replied the Inspector. ‘I said only that a jewel robbery was suspected. But some odd things happened here last night, and I am asking for your help in trying to unravel them.’