The Affair of the Mutilated Mink

by James Anderson

  Gerry, her eyes closed, sunk down in her seat, her hands in her pockets and her coat collar up, murmured, 'What's the matter?'

  'I've lost the taillight of the Rolls.'

  'Well, you know the way, don't you?'

  'Hope so, but there's such a maze of winding lanes round here that I'm not too confident. Do you know where we are?'

  'Of course I don't!'

  'But this is your country.'

  'I was asleep until woken by your foul language and the bitter cold. I don't even know how long we've been driving.' She peered into the gloom. 'There are three or four routes Hawkins could have taken. All these narrow country roads look exactly alike in the dark, particularly in a snow storm. If I could spot some landmark . . .'

  'Oh, don't worry. I know roughly where we are.' Gerry closed her eyes again. Five or ten minutes passed. Then she sat up with a start as the car suddenly gave a sort of shudder. She said, 'Oh, no, I don't believe it!'

  The engine cut out.

  Between clenched teeth Gerry said, 'Paul, is that what I think it is?'

  'Fraid so, old girl.'

  'You're out of petrol! Honestly, of all the blithering idiots!'

  Paul didn't reply as the car glided to a halt. He bent forward and peered at the fuel gauge. He muttered 'Knew I was low, but could have sworn I had enough to get back.'

  'The important thing is: what do we do?'

  'We could walk.'

  'But you don't know how far it is.'

  'Must be several miles.'

  'Me walk several miles in these shoes in this weather? I'd have frostbite in a hundred yards!'

  'Then you'll have to wait here, darling, while I go and get some petrol. Luckily, I've got an empty can.'

  'But where will you go? Jenkins' won't be open.'

  'I'll go the other way, to the main road. With any luck I can get a lift from a truck to that all-night filling station outside Westchester.'

  'I don't fancy staying here alone.'

  'But what's the alternative?'

  'Can't we both just wait here? They're sure to come back for us when they realise.'

  'Yes, but how long will that take them? And then they won't know exactly where we are. There've been several forks or crossroads since I last saw the Rolls, and I could have gone wrong at any of them. They could drive round for ages.'

  'Oh, really, Paul. Of all the prize chumps, you take the cake!'

  'I know, don't rub it in. Well, what about it: do I go?'

  'How long will it take you?'

  'Hard to say. Perhaps three quarters of an hour.'

  'Well, all right, but be as quick as you can.'

  'Oh, no, I'm going to stroll - enjoy the scenery, pick flowers.'

  He took the key from the ignition, got out and went to the back. Gerry heard the rumble seat open and a moment later slam shut.

  He called, 'Chin up, sweetheart. I'll do my best.'

  Then came the sound of his footsteps on the road for a few seconds. They gradually faded away and, but for the wind, all was silent. Gerry sat huddled down in the seat and shivered.

  * * *

  'Two Spades,' said Maude Fry.

  'Pass,' said Cecily.

  'Two Hearts,' said Lady Burford.

  'Three Diamonds,' said Jemima Dove.

  Maude Fry hesitated. Her face was flushed and she was breathing more heavily than usual. It was remarkable what a change had come over her since Sebastian had left and they'd started playing seriously. Not, thought the Countess, that she was a very good player. It was fortunate they were not playing for high stakes; Maude Fry would already have lost quite a lot of money.

  Lady Burford's reflections were interrupted by the sound of tires outside. She said, 'Oh, they're back. Sooner than I expected.' She glanced at the clock. 'My word, it's nearly one! I had no idea.'

  'Good gracious!' Cecily exclaimed. 'I've never known time to pass so quickly.'

  Maude Fry got hurriedly to her feet. 'Oh, Lady Burford, do you mind if we stop now and add up tomorrow. I'm sorry to break off in the middle, but I did explain about Mr Gilbert.'

  'Yes, of course.'

  Jemima said, 'I'll come now, too, if nobody minds.'

  They both said good night and left the room together.

  Lady Burford and Cecily went out to the hall to welcome the others. They came in shivering and giving exclamations, the men removing their outer things and handing them to the footmen. Hugh especially looked particularly cold and hurried straight into the drawing room and across to the fire.

  The Earl brushed some snowflakes from his hair. 'Brr - what a foul night!'

  'I expect you'd all like something warming,' Lady Burford said.

  It was Laura who answered first. 'Not for me, Lady Burford, thank you. If I may I will go up to my room in just a few meenutes. I am very tired and I have a slight headache. But may I make a telephone call first? I must ring my London agent at his home and tell him what time I arrive tomorrow.'

  She smiled as she saw Lady Burford glance at the grandfather clock. 'Is all right. He keeps very late hours.'

  'You know where the telephone room is?'

  'Si, grazie.' Laura walked off.

  Arlington Gilbert meanwhile was smiling benignly, swaying slightly as he did so. He said, 'Did I hear you talk about something warming? Does that mean rum, by any chance?'

  Haggermeir said, 'You've had quite enough for tonight, feller.'

  Gilbert raised his eyebrows. 'I have?'

  'You have. It's bed for you, pronto. I'll see you up.'

  He took Gilbert by the arm and led him to the stairs. Over his shoulder he said, 'I'll say good night, too, Lady Burford. Thanks for the outing, Earl.'

  'Glad you came, my dear chap. 'Night.'

  Haggermeir and Gilbert proceeded a little unsteadily up the stairs.

  Lord Burford said, 'That fellow Arlington - much nicer when he's had one over the eight. Not that he seemed to me to drink all that much. All the same, we'd better keep him tanked up the rest of the time he's here.'

  The Countess said, 'I take it the evening was a success?'

  'Capital. Rex here was simply splendid. Great hit.'

  Rex smiled. 'I enjoyed myself.'

  'Fancy somethin' before you turn in?'

  'No, really, thanks. Your friends the Needhams did us very well. I'll go straight to my room, if you don't mind.' He said good night all round and ran lightly up the stairs.

  Cecily said, 'My turn now, I think. Good night, Lavinia. It's been a delightful day.'

  'Good night, Cecily.'

  They kissed and Cecily in her turn ascended the grand staircase.

  Laura reappeared.

  'Did you get through all right?' Lady Burford asked.

  'I'm afraid not. The phone seems to be dead. Perhaps the lines are down.'

  'Oh dear, how tiresome! I am sorry.'

  'Is no matter. I can send a telegram from the veellage in the morning.' She gave an elegant little yawn. 'Well, if you do not mind I will go to bed now. Buonanotte.' She made her way up the stairs.

  As she did so, Hugh emerged from the drawing room again. 'Gerry and Carter in yet?' he asked.

  The Earl hook his head. 'No. Why?'

  'I wonder what's happened to them. They were right behind us when we left the Needhams.'

  The Countess looked alarmed. 'George, didn't you say the roads were difficult tonight?'

  'Bit slippery.'

  'Oh my, perhaps they've had an accident! Somebody must go and look for them.'

  'Oh lor', Lavinia, let's give it a bit longer. I don't like to get Hawkins out again on what's almost certainly a wild goose chase. He's probably turned in already.'

  'George, we're talking about your daughter.'

  'You know I can't drive.'

  'I'll go, Lady Burford,' said Hugh.

  'Oh, would you, Hugh? I'd be so grateful.'

  'That's all right. I want to know what he's up - I mean, I want to know what's happened to her.'

&n
bsp; The Earl said, 'Thanks, my boy. You'll have to go and get the car keys from Hawkins.'

  'Oh, I wouldn't risk driving the Rolls tonight - bit too big and heavy for me. Do you know where the keys to the Hispano are? Gerry's often let me drive that.'

  'You'll probably find she's left them in the ignition. She nearly always does.'

  'Oh, right.' He fetched his flying jacket, scarf and cap from the cloakroom and pulled on his gloves. 'Got a flashlight?'

  'Should be one in that table drawer.'

  Hugh found it and opened the front door.

  'Be careful, Hugh,' Lady Burford said.

  'Don't worry.'

  He went out. The storm was worse than ever and only the gale had so far prevented the snow forming a carpet underfoot. He stumbled to the stable yard, his mind full of black thoughts. He didn't for one moment believe there'd been an accident. Carter was up to some dirty business. Exactly what wasn't clear. But for him to disappear with Gerry at this time of night couldn't be chance. Hugh just hoped against hope that the little idiot hadn't let him persuade her to run away with him, or anything really drastic.

  In the yard he made straight for the Hispano Suisa. To get to it he had to pass his motorcycle combination. The beam of his flashlight happened to fall momentarily on the sidecar. He noticed that it seemed to be leaning over at a strange angle. He directed the beam straight on to it. Then he stopped dead and gave an exclamation.

  The motor-bike was gone.

  Hugh stood, gazing blankly. The sidecar apparently hadn't been damaged. But the bike had been neatly detached. There was no sign of it.

  Hugh's thoughts whirled. It didn't make sense. It had certainly been here just a few moments before they'd all left for the talent contest. He'd come out to fetch his scarf, which he'd left in the sidecar.

  No one would come right up here just to pinch a motorcycle - or, if they did, be so insane as to stop and remove the sidecar first. It could only be some sort of hoax. But by whom?

  However, this wasn't the time for speculation. He hurried on to the Hispano and opened the door. Yes, the ignition key was there. He got in and a minute later was on his way down the drive. Hugh gripped the wheel tightly and peered through the driving snow.

  Chapter Twelve

  Gerry sat huddled in Paul's car. Her teeth were chattering. She'd never been so cold in her life. Surely, Paul ought to be back by now. She reluctantly drew her left hand from her pocket and squinted at the luminous dial of her wrist watch.

  Oh no! He'd been gone less than twenty minutes. It seemed at least an hour. Why hadn't she been missed at home? Did she mean so little to her parents that they didn't even notice whether she was there or not?

  There was a terrible draft in this car. She groped in the direction from which the wind was coming and gave a gasp of annoyance at finding the soft top of the car wasn't closed properly. There was a gap of at least an inch immediately above the windshield and the passenger door. She reached up and tried to close it. But it wouldn't budge. She leant to her right and felt above the driver's door. Here there was no gap. Obviously when Paul had last had the top down he'd closed it crookedly afterwards. The only thing to do was open it and re-close it - making sure it was straight.

  Gerry jerked at the handle and the top flew back. Snow swept in. She heaved forward again. Nothing happened. She knelt on the seat and had another go. But it was hopeless. The top was well and truly jammed.

  Gerry nearly wept. If there'd been a draft before, there was now a howling gale around and she was colder than ever. She threw herself back into the seat, staring dismally into the darkness. The next moment she stiffened. Lights - surely? Yes, a car was approaching. Slowly it drew closer.

  Then Gerry knew a twinge of unease. It wasn't the Rolls - the lights were wrong. Suppose it wasn't from home at all? It might be - anybody.

  The car came nearer still, and stopped about ten yards in front of her. Then a figure was suddenly silhouetted against the car's lights. It began walking towards her. She held her breath. The next moment a light was shining in her eyes and a voice was saying, Gerry? Are you all right?'

  'Hugh! Oh, thank heavens!'

  She opened the door and got stiffly out. 'Oh, Hugh, am I glad to see you! But what are you driving?'

  'The Hispano.'

  'Oh.' Of course, she'd never seen her own car approaching her in the dark, so it wasn't surprising she hadn't recognised it. 'How did you find me?' she asked.

  'Followed the tracks of the Rolls until they got covered with snow. Then just kept straight on. But what happened?'

  'It's Paul. He-

  Hugh grabbed her by the elbow. 'What's he done? Where is he?'

  She pulled away. 'Hugh, please. It's ripping of you to have come for me, but this isn't the Old Bailey.'

  Gerry, has he hurt you? In any way?'

  'Certainly not.'

  'Then why's he run off?'

  'He hasn't run off. He's gone to get petrol. We ran out.'

  He gave a snort. 'Oh, come off it! Don't tell me you fell for that old chestnut.'

  'It's true!'

  'Gerry, for Pete's sake stop defending the rotter.'

  'He's not a rotter!'

  He grasped her roughly by the shoulders. 'Don't say you were in on it!'

  'In on what?'

  'This whole shoddy scheme. For the two of you to - to be alone. Where no one could see you.'

  She gave a gasp. 'You're not serious! You don't honestly think we'd choose to stop - out here, in this!' She gestured to the elements.

  'I think he'd do absolutely anything to get you. And I think you're so besotted with him that you'd let him.'

  'Why, you utter beast!' And Gerry slapped him hard across the face.

  He started shaking her, shouting to make himself heard above the wind. 'Gerry, come to your senses! The fellow's a cad. Give him up!'

  Gerry's teeth were rattling so much that she couldn't speak. Then, when she was sure that if he continued any longer her head would fall off, there came the sound of hurrying footsteps, muffled by the snow, and then blessedly Paul's voice:

  'Gerry? I've got the petrol. Didn't have to go to the garage. A truck driver let me siphon some out of his tank. Gerry? What's happening? Who's that with you?'

  Hugh let her go as Paul loomed up from the rear, carrying a can. 'What's going on?' he said urgently. 'Quartus!'

  Hugh spun to face him. 'Right, Carter, I want a few words with you.'

  Paul took in Gerry's distressed condition. He put down the can. 'What have you done to her?'

  'Nothing, except give her a well-deserved shaking. The question is: What have I prevented you doing to her?'

  Gerry stepped shakily towards Paul and fell into his arms. 'Oh, Paul, he's been saying horrible things about us: that we arranged all this so we could - could be alone.'

  Paul drew his breath in sharply. 'You unmitigated bounder.'

  'You call me a bounder?' Hugh shouted. The next moment, without any warning, he swung a wild right hook in the direction of Paul's head.

  Paul easily evaded the blow, and Hugh's fist landed with a clunk against the windshield of the car. He gave a yelp of pain.

  'Right,' Paul said grimly, 'if that's the way you want it.' He drew back his fist.

  Gerry screamed, 'No, Paul!' and he stopped in mid-movement. 'No fighting, please!' she said imploringly. 'Let's get home before I freeze to death.'

  He hesitated, then dropped his fist. 'Oh, all right. He's not worth it, anyway. I'll get the petrol in.'

  He turned, and for the first time took in the appearance of his car. 'Why by all that's wonderful have you put the hood down?'

  She stammered out an explanation.

  He groaned. 'Stuck! Oh, marvellous! It's happened before. I'll never be able to put it right out here.'

  'Well, I'm sorry,' she said tearfully. 'I didn't do it on purpose.'

  Muttering to himself, Paul picked up the can and walked to the rear of the car. Gerry turned back to Hugh, who was n
ursing his knuckles.

  'Is it bad?'

  'What do you think?'

  'It's your own fault.'

  He jerked his head at the tourer. 'You going back in that?'

  'I suppose so.'

  'Why not come in the Hispano? At least you'll be dry.'

  She looked longingly in the direction of the other car. 'No, I'd better go back with Paul. It is my fault the top's down, after all.'

  'That's crazy reasoning—'

  Paul came up. 'What's the matter now?'

  'Hugh's suggesting I should go home in the Hispano,' she said. 'I say, let's all go in it.'

  'I'm not leaving my car here,' Paul said. 'The inside would be sodden by the morning. You do what you like.'

  'All right. Thanks. I'll go with Hugh. I'm so cold!

  'Is that settled?' Hugh asked irritably. 'Good. Then come on, Gerry. You drive. My hand's hurting.'

  'All right, so long as somebody drives.'

  They were about to move towards the Hispano, when suddenly and unexpectedly Paul gave a yell. 'Stop ordering her around!'

  Hugh turned. 'What?'

  'You heard, you insolent little twerp! 'Do this, Do that.' Do you think she's a scullery maid?'

  Gerry said despairingly, 'Oh, Paul, it doesn't matter!'

  'It matters to me. I won't have you spoken to like that by anybody, let alone this insufferable, jumped up pip-squeak.'

  He stepped up to Hugh. 'You took a poke at me just now. Want to try again?'

  'All right.'

  Hugh jabbed out his fist. Paul effortlessly parried the blow. Gerry gave a yell and stepped forward.

  'Stop it, both of you!'

  But at that second Paul let fly with a left hook. It was a textbook punch, except for one thing. As he threw it his feet slipped on the icy road surface. He spun wildly, his arms flailed in the air, and his clenched fist caught Gerry square on the jaw.

  Without a sound she collapsed on the road and lay still.

  Paul stared at Gerry in abject dismay.

  'You fool!' Hugh gasped.

  Paul fell on his knees beside her and raised her head. Hugh shone his flashlight on her face. With immense relief in his voice Paul said, 'It's all right. She's breathing easily. She'll be round in a few minutes. Let's get her into the car.'