‘What nonsense. He gave me the jewels to wear while I was with him but they’re still in his possession. If he claims otherwise, he’s a liar.’
‘And a cad,’ added Aubrey. His face had darkened and the veins stood out on his neck.
‘Nevertheless, I must search your luggage.’
Aubrey started forward. ‘How dare you, sir.’
Laetitia Lane put a restraining hand on Aubrey’s shoulder. ‘James, let them search. We have nothing to hide.’
There was a menacing pause. Aubrey glowered; he clenched his fists then finally relaxed them and let his hands fall to his sides. ‘If Letty has no objection, I suppose you may,’ he muttered.
‘But I assure you,’ said Laetitia Lane calmly, ‘you won’t find as much as a single earring.’
De Silva felt perplexed. Either she was a very good actress or as innocent as she claimed to be. Well, there was nothing for it but to start the search. Yet what if the jewels weren’t anywhere readily accessible? He could hardly demand to search Miss Lane’s person.
‘Nadar, go down and tell the owner I want a spare room made ready for Major Aubrey and Miss Lane.’
‘I know our rights, Inspector,’ said Aubrey. ‘I insist we’re present while you search.’
‘We don’t both need to be here, James. I’ll stay.’
‘No, I should be the one to handle this.’
She touched his cheek. ‘Let’s not argue about it. I’m sure I shall be perfectly safe in the inspector’s hands.’
With a show of reluctance, Major Aubrey went to the room the owner offered. Satisfied the door was securely locked, de Silva returned to where he had left Nadar on guard and commenced his search.
Laetitia Lane lounged in a chair smoking a cigarette. She waved it in the direction of the door by the bed. ‘Our cases are in there, Inspector, but they’re all empty. Major Aubrey and I travel light. What we have with us is in those drawers and that cupboard. I doubt your search will take long.’
Noticing how Nadar didn’t raise his eyes from his feet, de Silva decided to spare him the embarrassment of searching a lady’s room in her presence and sent him to check the suitcases.
‘It was clever of you to find us, Inspector,’ remarked Laetitia Lane, as he opened drawers. She was right: there was very little to look through. He’d go through the motions but it was quite possible she was concealing the pouch with the jewellery under the robe; it was of a very generous cut. He’d have to enlist Jane’s help, but all in good time. Laetitia Lane wasn’t going anywhere now. He’d make sure of that.
‘You flatter me, ma’am.’
‘Oh, surely not.’
‘I suppose all my acquaintances in Nuala believe I’m a thief and an impostor?’ She tapped the ash off her cigarette. ‘How shocked poor dear Florence Clutterbuck must have been.’
‘I’ve no idea, ma’am. I wasn’t present when she was informed the jewels were missing.’
‘You’re very diplomatic, Inspector.’ She paused to inhale then let out a puff of smoke. ‘Perhaps the count told you I was an actress? I was in a play in the West End once – a dreadful piece called Murder at Middleton Grange. It flopped and was taken off after a few nights. I played the part of a woman who murdered her unfaithful husband.’
‘Most interesting.’ He closed the cupboard and, going to the bed, picked up a pillow and prodded it.
‘Not really, but I do recall one amusing detail. My character suspected her drawers would be searched for the murder weapon. She planned to throw it in the lake the next day but hid it in a drawer overnight. To make sure she knew if anyone tampered with the drawer, she placed a single hair across the join in the wood.’
Ah, so there was more to it than theft.
‘I understand from my wife who is a great reader of detective novels that the strategy you describe is a much-overused plot device.’
She stubbed out her cigarette. ‘I did say the play was dreadful.’
‘May I?’ He indicated the bedsheets.
‘Please, strip it all off if you want. I expect you’ll want your constable’s help with the mattress. I do hope the British government agrees to compensate the owner here if you insist on slitting it open.’
‘I hope that won’t be necessary.’
‘Good.’
She lit a fresh cigarette and he smelt Russian tobacco. ‘Going back to the single hair, I suppose it works?’
‘I imagine so, ma’am.’
‘Then by that analogy, a very small thing might provide a clue in solving a mystery? Say if someone observant was to notice that one of their possessions wasn’t quite as it had been the last time they looked at it?’
De Silva felt sure now. She was thinking of the crocodile-skin bag. She’d noticed that the stitching was too clumsy and guessed someone had tampered with it.
He glanced up and found she was giving him a ravishing smile. ‘What do you think, Inspector? I’d value your professional opinion.’
To his annoyance, he found he was lost for words.
Her smile widened.
Chapter 18
The Morris’s headlights lit up the sweep of drive in front of the bungalow as he returned home to Sunnybank. The door opened and Jane hurried out.
‘Shanti! I thought I heard the car. Where have you been all this time? Archie Clutterbuck has been trying to get hold of you.’
‘Searching for Laetitia Lane, of course. As he wanted me to.’
‘Did you find her?’
‘Yes, and Major Aubrey was with her.’
‘Gracious, so I was right, there is something between them.’
‘That appears to be the case. I found them together in a guest house in town, but so far I’ve had no luck finding the jewellery. She must have hidden it very cleverly. I’ll need to ask you to search her if she doesn’t give it up.’
‘Oh, that won’t be necessary now.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We know where it is.’
De Silva groaned. He seemed fated to waste time over this woman. ‘Where?’ he asked testily.
‘In the guest bungalow after all. You remember I told you how much Florence disliked the count? She insisted on organising a search in case there was some mistake. The count wasn’t pleased at all but not much stands in Florence’s way when she’s made up her mind about something. Anyway, I was asked to help and even Lady Caroline became involved. I don’t believe she has much time for the count either.’
She chuckled. ‘Angel was in attendance too. Whenever I see Florence, he’s never far behind. We found nothing at first and the count was blustering about how offended he was and he’d a good mind to complain to the governor. Then Angel started yapping. We couldn’t see where he was until I spotted his bottom sticking out from under an ottoman in the bedroom. Florence was in a terrible state. She thought he was stuck and called for some servants to lift the ottoman.’
‘What was it?’
‘There was a hump in the rug. Angel was pawing and sniffing at it, wagging his tail in great excitement. I picked him up and gave him to Florence then the servants rolled back the rug. Underneath it was a pouch with the jewellery neatly stored inside. I thought the count would explode he went so red, but there wasn’t much he could say. Everything he claimed had been stolen was there. He tried to make up some story but it was obvious to everyone that he’d invented the whole thing because he was furious with Miss Lane for running off. Florence was delighted and even Archie made a bit of a fuss of Angel. Angel seemed very pleased with that. Perhaps they’ll even be good friends one day. But it still leaves the letter and those passports. Was there no sign of them?’
‘Not a trace. Either she had them under her clothes or she’d got rid of them.’
‘What will you do now?’
‘Do? I think I’ll have a whisky and soda. Archie Clutterbuck made it abundantly clear that when the matter of the jewellery was settled, my services would no longer be required.’
Jane looked at hi
m sympathetically. ‘It’s not like you to give up, Shanti.’
‘Oh, I don’t see it as giving up; I’ve done my bit. It’s a British problem now.’
‘It is rather fun being proved right about Laetitia Lane and Major Aubrey, don’t you think?’
‘It was a lucky guess.’
‘I prefer to call it an educated one.’
‘Alright, it was very clever of you. Obviously, I’d do far better to stay here and read detective novels than chase about the countryside.’
She tucked her arm in his. ‘You’re cross.’
‘Yes, I suppose I am. This whole thing is a mess and I’ve wasted too much time on the count and his lies.’
She reached up and kissed his cheek. ‘My poor dear. Never mind. The count won’t be here much longer, and neither, I suspect, will Laetitia Lane or Major Aubrey.’
‘But there will still be the problem of Helen Wynne-Talbot.’
Jane sighed. ‘I fear so.’
‘I should go and see Archie Clutterbuck,’ he said with a grimace.
‘You do that, then we’ll have dinner.’
**
Fortified by a whisky, he set off a quarter of an hour later. At the Residence, the house lights cast a buttery glow on the gravel and the façade looked a particularly pristine white against the dark sky. He parked the car and went to the door. A servant came swiftly to answer the bell. The sight of de Silva in uniform clearly surprised him.
‘Sahib is not here,’ he said, when de Silva asked for Clutterbuck.
‘Will he be out all evening?’
‘Yes. He and the memsahib attend a dinner at the British club.’
It would cause a stir if he tried to flush the assistant government agent out of a dinner at the club. He pictured the speculation at the card tables and in the smoking room. Clutterbuck wouldn’t thank him for it. No, this would have to wait until tomorrow and damn the consequences. He hoped he was making the right decision and his caution wouldn’t arouse Clutterbuck’s ire once again. He nodded to the servant. ‘Please tell him Inspector de Silva called and will telephone in the morning.’
The man bowed. ‘Yes, sahib.’
De Silva hesitated. ‘On second thoughts, I’ll leave a message for him. I’d better come in. Find me a pen and paper.’
The servant showed him through to a small room to one side of the entrance hall and left to fetch the writing materials. When he returned, de Silva composed a brief message explaining he was aware that the jewellery had been found but he had detained Aubrey and Miss Lane regardless as he presumed Clutterbuck would still want to question them, both in relation to Helen Wynne-Talbot’s death and to their activities in Nuala.
He read the note over, signed it and put it in the envelope the servant had provided. ‘See to it that your master gets this on his return.’
Passing an uneasy night, he pictured Major Aubrey and Laetitia Lane penned up at the guest house. He hoped he had made the right decision. His prisoners were bound to want someone on whom to vent their displeasure and, unless Clutterbuck took his part, he would be right in the line of fire.
Everything depended on how Clutterbuck approached the situation. He might be very pleased Aubrey and Miss Lane were still in British hands, alternatively he might want to allay Miss Lane’s suspicions by setting her free. If that’s the case, thought de Silva, he’ll probably make a show of censuring me, but I must endure that.
He rolled over and curled up like a caterpillar but sleep still eluded him. Instead, the image of Florence’s beloved Angel cavorted through his mind, dragging in its teeth a seemingly endless string of diamonds that sparkled as brightly as the little dog’s beady eyes. Floating behind, Helen Wynne-Talbot’s pale, seraphic face accused him with its sorrowful expression.
Eventually, unable to endure any more, he slipped out of bed, moving stealthily so as not to wake Jane. In the bathroom, he took his robe from the hook by the door and put it on then pushed his feet into his slippers. Except for the tick of the clock in the hall, the bungalow was silent. A shaft of moonlight fell like an arrow on the drawing room floor, pointing the way to the verandah. He turned the key in the lock and went outside. In April, the air rarely cooled as much at night as it did earlier in the year and he wasn’t cold.
Moonlight leached the colour from the trees and flowers so that the garden looked like a faded print. Night-time, however, intensified its scents. Drinking them in, he felt at peace. He was so lucky to have this haven from the squabbles and demands of the human race. He had done his best to do the right thing and he would weather any storms that resulted. If Archie Clutterbuck chose not to support him after all, so be it.
Idly, he wondered whether Laetitia Lane really was a traitor to her country. Jane sometimes spoke of the Great War and the terrible loss of life incurred. The loser, Germany, had sunk into an economic depression, but in the last few years, Adolf Hitler’s National Socialists had come to power, promising to restore Germany’s greatness. Many people mistrusted Hitler, but there were some, and they included members of the British aristocracy, who admired the man. Was Laetitia Lane one of them?
He shivered and reminded himself that, although he had to serve the British in Ceylon, their problems in Europe were, fortunately, outside his remit. After a last turn round the garden, he went indoors and returned to bed.
Chapter 19
His head muzzy from his restless night, de Silva drank two cups of strong tea but hardly touched his breakfast. Jane looked at him with dismay. ‘Try not to worry, dear. I’m sure it will all work out for the best.’
‘I expect you’re right,’ he said, trying to infuse his voice with more confidence than he felt. He put down his crumpled napkin and got up from the table. ‘I’d better get off to the station and find out if there’s a message. Not much point seeing Aubrey and Miss Lane until I know how the land lies.’
The station door was still locked for he had left Nadar on guard at the guest house in case Aubrey or Miss Lane took it into their heads to persuade the owner to let them out. So, one person at least had benefited from the situation, he thought wryly. Last night had probably been the quietest Nadar had enjoyed in a long time.
He had just made himself some tea and taken it to his office when Nadar arrived. De Silva frowned. ‘What are you doing here, Constable? Didn’t I tell you to watch the prisoners?’
‘I’m sorry, sir. Mr Clutterbuck came and sent me away. He told me to tell you that you are not needed at the guest house and he will speak with you later.’
De Silva’s spirits sank. This didn’t bode well.
The day was well advanced when Clutterbuck telephoned. Cautiously, de Silva wished him good afternoon.
‘It’s a tolerable one now, I suppose,’ came the gruff reply. ‘In spite of the fact that I’ve spent most of the day smoothing ruffled feathers when I could have been fishing. Didn’t I tell you to back off from Major Aubrey? Instead I find that you’ve incarcerated him in some flea-bitten guest house!’
De Silva bit his tongue. The guest house hadn’t been of his choosing and, in any case, it had seemed to him to be perfectly clean and respectable.
‘Miss Lane too, even though you were aware she was cleared of theft.’
‘Sir, I explained in my note to you, I didn’t want to release them without your authority.’
‘Why didn’t you call me out of the club last night?’
‘I was concerned it would give rise to unwelcome curiosity.’
Clutterbuck grunted. ‘I suppose you’re not to blame. I didn’t know the truth myself until Colombo filled me in. It seems our Major Aubrey is a hero with a distinguished record of service on the North-West frontier. After several successful missions, he was captured and handled pretty roughly by the Afghans. I understand he was lucky to escape with his life.’
De Silva remembered the scars he’d noticed on Aubrey’s chest and everything became clear. For as long as he could remember, the British had been wrangling with Russia over Afghanist
an, the gateway to India. The author they were so fond of, Rudyard Kipling, had called it the Great Game. How was he supposed to know Aubrey had been involved in it?
‘Laetitia Lane turns out to be one of ours too. She was tasked with finding out more about the count and his German connections and Aubrey was helping her. It was all going well until she suspected someone had searched her room. That must have been you, of course, but she had no way of knowing it at the time. It was only when you interviewed her later that she suspected the truth. Initially, she was afraid she’d been unmasked by some unfriendly agent, so between her and Aubrey, they’d decided it was time to get out.’
Clutterbuck’s voice tailed off and there was a considerable pause before he spoke again.
‘De Silva?’
‘Yes, sir?’
The rumble of a throat being cleared came down the line. ‘I’ve decided we’ll say no more about it. By now they will have left Nuala and hopefully the whole sorry mess is behind us.’
De Silva felt a mixture of relief and frustration.
‘Getting back to the Wynne-Talbot woman. Have you found her body yet?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Try to hurry it up, de Silva. It would be good to show William Petrie that we can get something right up here.’
There was a click at the end of the line. De Silva replaced the receiver and the teacup rattled in its saucer. He picked up a pencil and flexed it; the lead snapped.
He spent the remainder of the afternoon dealing irritably with minor matters until Nadar put his head round the door.
‘Sergeant Prasanna’s back, sir.’
‘What news?’
‘He’s found the lady’s body, sir.’
‘Send him in.’
‘He has two people with him, sir.’
‘Oh? They’d better come in too.’
Prasanna was first into the room. His uniform shorts and shirt were somewhat grimy and dust dulled the shine on his boots. He acknowledged de Silva’s glance at them with an apologetic expression. ‘I’m sorry, sir, I came straight here. I thought you’d want to know as soon as possible.’
Dark Clouds Over Nuala (The Inspector de Silva Mysteries Book 2) Page 11