by Clara Benson
‘No,’ said Gertie. ‘I’ve left him with Clemmie. She won’t thank me, but she owes me for that fancy galvanometer I gave her for Christmas, so she’ll just have to put up with him. Why are all the men in this house being so tiresome at the moment?’ she went on. ‘Claude was pestering me at length earlier, too, wanting to know whether I’d seen anything through the cupboard door the other night. I said I hadn’t, although quite frankly, even if I had I wouldn’t have told him about it anyway—I should have told Father. Give me a cigarette, Freddy—no, best make it two. If anybody wants me, I shall be out in the garden, hiding behind a tree.’
She ran off, glancing about as though fearful that St. John would suddenly jump out from behind a pillar and start whining again.
‘The man’s an idiot,’ said Freddy. ‘He hasn’t the faintest idea how to talk to women. All that mooning about and carrying their photographs next to his heart stuff just irritates them.’
Angela was only half-listening.
‘Freddy, I’ve just remembered something else,’ she said. ‘Did you know that St. John was lying about his alibi?’
‘No,’ said Freddy in surprise. ‘Was he really? In what way?’
‘He said he left the castle before half past twelve, but that wasn’t true. He left much later than that.’
‘How do you know?’ said Freddy.
Angela explained, and he whistled in dismay.
‘I say,’ he said. ‘That looks bad for him, doesn’t it?’
‘It does, rather,’ said Angela. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Oh, don’t be. If he did do it, then he’s even more of an ass than I thought. I take it, then, that Jameson thinks he’s more or less a dead cert for the murderer?’
‘I don’t know what Mr. Jameson thinks, but I imagine he’ll be keeping a close eye on St. John from now on.’
‘I dare say they’ll have him arrested as soon as the snow is cleared.’
‘Do you think so?’ said Angela. ‘It would make more sense to have him followed. If he has the documents he will presumably have to pass them on to somebody, but if they arrest him, then they won’t be able to find out who that somebody is. This is their chance to break up the spy ring once and for all.’
‘Yes, I see what you mean,’ said Freddy. ‘Well, then, perhaps he is safe for the moment. Come on, let’s go and rescue Clemmie. She may one day represent the next generation of brilliant scientists now that Klausen has gone, so we don’t want St. John to bore her to death before she can fulfil her potential.’
But Angela had stopped dead and was staring at him.
‘What did you say?’ she said.
‘I said we don’t want—’
‘No, no, before that.’
‘I’ve no idea. Was I being brilliant, as usual?’
‘I believe you were,’ said Angela slowly.
He waited, but she said no more. She was biting her lip and gazing into space.
‘Well, are you going to tell me what I said, so I can make a note for posterity?’ he said impatiently.
She glanced at him.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I should like to speak to somebody first. I may tell you later, if you’re a good boy.’
She walked off purposefully, leaving him standing in puzzlement.
‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ he said. ‘What on earth is she up to now?’
TWENTY-FOUR
Angela found Eleanor Buchanan sitting in a window-seat in the little sitting-room, quite alone, gazing out of the window and playing with her locket as usual. She turned as Mrs. Marchmont came in and a frown crossed her face.
‘What are you doing here?’ she said. ‘I thought I’d made it quite clear that I didn’t want to speak to you.’
‘You did,’ replied Angela, ‘but I think you may have been labouring under a misapprehension. I wasn’t trying to blackmail you last night, you know.’
Eleanor glanced up, startled, but said nothing.
‘As a matter of fact, I was at a loss to understand then why you were so angry with me,’ went on Angela. ‘Of course, I realize now. You thought I knew all about you and was hinting at it slyly, trying to threaten you—but I promise you I wasn’t. I hadn’t the faintest idea of it until today.’
‘Hadn’t the faintest idea of what?’ said Eleanor, half-fearfully.
‘May I see the locket again?’ said Angela. ‘Ah, yes, I thought I remembered the initials inscribed on the front: “E. G.” They’re yours, I believe.’
Mrs. Buchanan nodded.
‘They’re the initials of my maiden name,’ she said.
‘Eleanor Golovin,’ said Angela, and it was not a question.
Eleanor looked down.
‘Did someone tell you?’ she said.
‘No,’ said Angela. ‘I saw a photograph of your brother in a newspaper this morning, but it wasn’t until Freddy said something just now that I realized I’d seen his face before, in your locket. Please believe I have no intention of causing you harm, but somebody dangerous is at large and I think the time has come for you to tell what you know before the murderer can strike again.’
‘I’m not proud of the fact that my brother is a traitor,’ said Eleanor. ‘I don’t want you to think I am. But he’s my brother, and the only family I have left since my father died. He did a bad thing, but I can’t forget him and pretend he never existed—although I must keep him a secret from everyone, including my husband.’
‘Do you mean he doesn’t know?’ said Angela in astonishment. ‘But surely—’
‘No, he doesn’t know a thing,’ said Eleanor. ‘How could I tell him? We met last year in Baden-Baden and I fell in love with him and he with me. I never meant to keep it a secret, but the scandal was still in all the newspapers at the time—Stephen had just gone to gaol and the Home Secretary had had to resign his seat, and for a little while the Government had looked like toppling. Then when we met, Sandy kept on saying how happy I’d made him, and how marvellous it was that he could forget all the cares of state when he was with me. I meant to tell him who I was, but in the end I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I know it was wrong of me, but I was in love with him and, perhaps foolishly, I thought that no-one would ever find out.’
‘But didn’t he realize the truth when he heard your surname?’
‘He never knew me as Eleanor Golovin,’ said Eleanor. ‘When we first came to England we found that people often anglicized our name to Garvin, so that was the name we mostly used. When he grew up, Stephen started using his Russian name again, saying that we ought to be proud of it, but I was used to Garvin by then and saw no reason to change back.’
‘When did you last speak to your brother?’
‘I visited him in prison before his trial. I wanted to talk to him and find out what had possessed him to spy on the country that had been his home for most of his life, but he wouldn’t talk to me about it. All he would say was that he was a true patriot and proud to be one, and that he would do the same again if given the opportunity.’ She glanced up at Angela. ‘I knew he’d fallen in with some odd people for a while, but I thought he had got over all that. It seems not, though: I suppose they were Radicals from the old country who got hold of him and convinced him that what he was doing was right. At any rate, he was angry and stubborn, and we—we had a row and I came away, and shortly afterwards he was sentenced to twenty years in prison. He was lucky not to be hanged—had it been wartime he certainly would have been—but the prison doctors said he was mentally unsound and ought merely to be locked up. After the trial I went abroad to Germany to think about things for a while, and that’s where I met Sandy.’
‘And you haven’t heard from your brother since then?’
‘No,’ said Eleanor. ‘He won’t write to me, and I can’t write to him any more. Can you imagine the sensation if it was discovered that the wife of the Foreign Secretary was the sister of a notorious spy? Why, it would be worse than the original scandal.’
‘And so you have kept silent about it
all this time,’ said Angela, not unsympathetically.
‘Yes,’ said Eleanor. She seemed almost relieved to have unburdened herself of her secret. It must have been hard to keep it from her husband for a year or more. ‘I’ve been a coward, I know,’ she went on. ‘I couldn’t bear to tell Sandy about Stephen, as I knew I should lose him—of course he could never have married me had he known about it. I meant to be a good wife to him, truly I did. And I was, I promise you I was, until—’ she stopped, and tears came into her eyes.
‘Until Claude Burford began blackmailing you,’ said Angela gently.
Eleanor nodded. She could not speak.
‘How did he know who you were?’
Mrs. Buchanan took a deep breath and forced herself to be calm.
‘He was the secretary of Beresford Ogilvy, the old Home Secretary, who was a friend of ours and gave Stephen his job in the Cabinet Secretariat. He lost his seat in Parliament after it all came out. I glimpsed Claude once or twice at the Ogilvys’ house, but we were never introduced and I didn’t think he would recognize me when he saw me here at Fives. Unfortunately, I was wrong.’
‘When did he approach you?’
‘On New Year’s Eve, before the dance. He found me alone in the drawing-room and said he had something he wanted to discuss with me in private, so we came in here. I’d only seen him once or twice before and hadn’t thought much of him, but he seemed polite and honest enough, at least, so I didn’t understand what he was saying to me at first. As a matter of fact, I thought he was—was making an impertinent proposal, and was about to brush it off and leave, but then he got hold of my arm and said he wouldn’t let me go until I’d heard what he had to say. It was only then I understood that he remembered me perfectly well and meant to use the knowledge to his advantage. At first I tried to pretend that Sandy knew exactly who I was, but Claude laughed and said that was nonsense—he would never have married me in that case. Of course, I knew that was true so in the end I had to admit it.’
‘And that put you in his power,’ said Angela. ‘What did he want?’
Tears were rolling down Eleanor’s cheeks, and she brushed them away.
‘He said Sandy had brought some secret papers with him to Fives, and that I was to get them for him. I said I didn’t know anything about any papers—which was true—and Claude said that was all the better for me then, since once the theft was discovered Sandy wouldn’t suspect me of having taken them.’
‘Did he say why he wanted them?’
‘No,’ said Eleanor. ‘Of course, I asked him, but he told me it was none of my business—it was important political stuff that I wouldn’t understand. Then he said that in any case, surely the papers would be safer in his hands rather than in the hands of a man whose wife was the sister of a traitor. That was a low thing to say, and I told him so and said I should never betray my husband by doing such a thing. Then he got hold of my arm and sort of pushed me against the wall, and I became quite scared. He said I’d better do as I was told, or he would tell everybody who I was, then Sandy would lose his seat just as Mr. Ogilvy did, and did I want to be responsible for doing such a thing to my husband?’
‘So in the end you did as he asked,’ said Angela.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘At the party Claude made me dance with him, and told me he wanted the papers as soon as possible. Once the dance was over and we’d all gone to the drawing-room I excused myself for a minute and ran upstairs. Claude was waiting for me, and came into the bedroom with me while I fetched them.’
‘If you didn’t know about them, how did you know where they were?’
‘Sandy has a secret compartment in his trunk, which he uses to carry confidential documents about with him,’ she replied. ‘I knew the papers would probably be in there, and I was right. I took them and gave them to Claude. He said something hateful—I can’t remember what—then laughed when I told him he ought to be ashamed of himself. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him after that. At any rate, I hoped against hope that that was the end of the matter, but then you came and started asking questions about my locket, and I thought you must be in league with him, and that the blackmail would continue.’
‘I see why you must have thought that,’ said Angela, ‘but to be perfectly truthful, when I spoke to you I was trying to find out whether you were in league with him.’
‘No!’ said Eleanor. ‘Never. I did what he asked, but only because he threatened me with exposure. I should never, never have done it otherwise.’ She looked stricken, and when she next spoke it was almost in a whisper. ‘I’ve betrayed my country and my husband,’ she said. ‘I’d never thought of it in that light until now, but I’m a traitor too, aren’t I? Just like Stephen—except I’m worse than he is, because I did it out of cowardice, not conviction. Oh, Mrs. Marchmont, what shall I do?’
Angela felt genuinely sorry for the woman, but had no good news for her.
‘I’m afraid there are bigger things at stake than your own concerns,’ she said gently. ‘It is vital that those papers are recovered as soon as possible. You must confess the whole thing to your husband before it is too late and Claude gets away with them. At present, he believes nobody suspects him, so there is still time to act.’
‘How can I tell Sandy?’ said Eleanor. ‘He will never forgive me.’
‘Does he love you?’ said Angela.
Eleanor lowered her eyes.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I believe he does.’
‘Then I’m sure he will forgive you, even if he is angry with you at first. You must remember that what your brother did was not your fault.’
‘I know that,’ said Eleanor, ‘but you can’t deny I’m tainted because of it.’
‘Still, that is no reason for you to go down the same path as he did. You have made a mistake but you still have the chance to put things right. These papers are more important than you or your husband. You must be brave and tell him—otherwise, I’m afraid I shall have to do it. Do you truly want to be a good wife? If so, you must stop living in fear and start fighting for what you know to be right.’
Eleanor drew herself up a little and set her jaw.
‘Of course, you’re right,’ she said suddenly. ‘Very well, then, I’ll do it. I won’t let Stephen or Claude or anyone else drive a wedge between Sandy and me if I can help it. I shall go and confess to him the dreadful thing I’ve done, and pray that he will forgive me for it eventually.’
‘Well, there’s the lunch-bell,’ said Angela. ‘That will give you a little extra time to decide exactly what to say to him.’
They went out of the room together. On their way to the dining-room they encountered Sandy Buchanan. The Foreign Secretary’s face lit up in a smile as he caught sight of his wife. Eleanor glanced at Angela and ran to her husband, and the two of them went in to lunch arm-in-arm.
TWENTY-FIVE
Lunch was a tense affair. Half the guests were preoccupied, while the other half seemed to be waiting for something. Angela supposed that the news of Professor Klausen’s death—which was now known to all—had done little to improve the mood of the party, although everybody was far too polite to mention it. Gertie was sitting glumly next to St. John, ignoring his attempts to engage her in conversation. Eventually he was forced to speak to Miss Foster instead, who launched into an interminable description of a story she was planning. Other than that, nobody said very much that did not relate to the meal.
Angela felt the mood as much as anyone, although she was pleased and slightly relieved to see Aubrey and Selma smiling at each other fondly across the table. At least that was one thing she need no longer worry about. She toyed with her food in some anxiety, wondering how best to act on the information she had learned from Eleanor Buchanan, and decided that the best thing to do would be to speak to Henry as soon as she could. Accordingly she stared at him until she caught his eye, then by her expression let him know that she had something to tell him. He nodded slightly in understanding and looked away.
&nbs
p; Freddy was regarding her with narrowed eyes. She gave him her most innocent smile, which did not fool him in the least, and then went back to reflecting on her astonishment at the events of the past hour or two. What a morning of revelations it had been! Could it really be true that Claude Burford was their man? It seemed almost incredible: after all, he was a Member of Parliament—a junior one, it was true, but one who had the ear of some of the highest representatives of Government—was engaged to one of their daughters, in fact—and yet all the evidence indicated that he was passing secrets to a foreign power. Of course, his position made it all the easier for him to do it: in the normal way of things nobody would have had the faintest suspicion of his guilt, but here at Fives, where there were only a few of them, all trapped by the snow, it was more difficult to conceal his illicit activities. If he really were a spy, though—why, then, it was the most shocking of crimes for a man in his position.
And not only a spy, of course; it must not be forgotten that he was also a murderer. Angela glanced across the table at Claude, who was exchanging remarks with Priss imperturbably. In his impeccable suit and with his neatly-parted hair, he looked the very picture of staid and self-satisfied respectability. Could he really have killed Professor Klausen? Leaving aside the difficulty in reconciling the idea with the reality of his demeanour, Angela was forced to admit that there was no practical reason why he could not have done it. After all, as one of the men invited to the meeting he had known Klausen was coming, and why. Furthermore, he had been seen by Bobby walking around the castle on New Year’s Eve. And he had been most curious to find out whether anybody had seen anything through the cupboard door—yes, most curious indeed. They had all assumed that that was because he was keen to find the murderer, but of course if Claude himself were the killer then he would be doubly anxious to make sure that nobody had seen him when he came to dump the professor’s body. What a shock he must have had when he found out that there had been six people in the billiard-room at the time! He must have been terrified at the thought that someone had seen him.