by John Creasey
‘That might suit Vere, but it doesn’t satisfy me.’
‘You’re always so difficult to satisfy,’ said Mannering gently. ‘Let’s have the man or men who saw me up here. They’ll find their mistake, and it might persuade you to cool down.’
Bristow said sharply. ‘Mannering, I’d like a word with you in my room.’
Mannering shrugged, but the tension had returned. Bristow had not yet revealed his hand, and was playing a cool, deliberate game. Mannering decided that it would be better to do what Bristow asked than to protest and show nervousness, wiser to find just what Bristow could do. He had some information – and if it concerned Logan’s story it might prove damning.
Yet Bristow had not acted as if he had any reason for suspecting Mannering in the Usk robbery.
That meant nothing; Bristow suspected the Baron had been at Winchester and was playing on that angle; but he could switch over swiftly, might yet pull a bluff against which Mannering had little defence. The uncertainty was nerve-racking; it was better to know the worst.
‘All right,’ Mannering said.
He opened the door and they both went out, conscious of Lorna’s intense gaze behind them. Bristow’s lips were set, and he gave an impression of confidence; but that also might be bluff.
Mannering’s expression held a faint amusement as he followed the Inspector. Bristow stopped at a door, hesitated and then opened it an inch or two.
‘Will you go first?’ he said.
Mannering felt his heart racing. Bristow had set a trap, he was putting to the test something which might yet break down the uncertain alibi. With an effort Mannering kept his face expressionless.
He went in.
He felt a spasm of alarm and fear – for a second was afraid that he had given himself away. Then he rallied, as he eyed the two men within. He recognised them at once.
Bristow had brought the White Angel’s porter and the burly, red-faced man whom Mannering had threatened with the gun.
Mannering looked at Bristow and spoke sharply, his voice very different from the one the porter had heard.
‘There’s less privacy here than downstairs, Bristow!’
He was afraid that his bluff would fail, afraid that one man or the other would claim recognition.
Bristow spoke in mock surprise: ‘Dear me, I’d forgotten these gentlemen! Would you mind waiting for five minutes?’ He smiled at the two men. They had been primed to expect the request, of course, after making their quick inspection.
Mannering’s mind worked fast. If they went outside and Bristow questioned them later, he would have no idea of the result of the identification test. It was time to force Bristow’s hand, time to turn to the attack. He said abruptly: ‘A moment, please. Bristow, I want an explanation of this. You knew these men were here – why did you bring me up?’
‘Now, Mr Mannering—’ Bristow was suave.
‘I’ve had more than enough from you this morning,’ Mannering snapped. ‘Innuendo can go too far, Inspector. You may think I’m investigating this business on my own, you may even want to prove it, but I object to a police trap of this nature.’ He swung round on the porter.
‘Have either of you seen me before?’
It was a tense moment, one in which his bluff might collapse. The porter would be easy to handle, but the red-faced man might be difficult. Mannering eyed him narrowly, while the porter said nervously: ‘Why, no, sir – I don’t know you.’
The red-faced man turned to Bristow.
‘This isn’t the man I saw, Inspector. Now I must get away, I haven’t all day to waste.’
Mannering felt a profound relief. He took out a cigarette and lit it slowly, his eyes challenging Bristow’s. Bristow’s lips tightened; his chagrin at the way the interview had turned in Mannering’s favour was plain. But he recovered himself well.
‘All right, Mr Benson, thank you. You can go too, Simms.’ He opened the door, and the two men went out – Benson without turning, the porter with a nervous glance over his shoulder.
Bristow said thinly. ‘Your luck will break one day, Mannering.’
‘Luck?’ said Mannering. ‘Come, Bill, you ought to know that truth will out. Still, I’m beginning to see your angle. You’ve a case against this fellow Wrexford, have you? Logan probably did the inside work and Wrexford, whoever he is, finished it off. But the jewels weren’t with your man – is that it?’
‘If there’s anything more I want you for, I’ll tell you,’ Bristow said coldly. ‘I won’t need you for the time being.’
‘This isn’t like you,’ Mannering said judiciously. ‘What’s got under your skin?’
‘I’m damned if—’ Bristow began harshly. Then he stopped, and Mannering saw the change in his expression, felt his own confidence justified, for Bristow would never have changed so abruptly had he any knowledge of Logan’s story. In Bristow there had always been a saving sense of humour, even when things were going badly for him; and now he laughed with genuine amusement. ‘Oh, all right, Mannering. I’ve a call to make, and then I’ll come down and see you again. There are one or two things you might help me with,’
Mannering chuckled. ‘At your service, as always – and more useful,’ he added, ‘when not under suspicion.’
He went out and walked briskly to his room. Lorna was standing by the window. She turned quickly.
‘It’s all right?’
‘For the time being,’ Mannering said, and told her briefly what had happened. Then: ‘He’s getting cunning, is Bill Bristow. We’ll have to watch him. He’s no less dangerous when he’s affable, and he’ll have a lot to think about when he does get Logan’s story. I wonder what he’s doing about Logan?’ Mannering added. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if he doesn’t give the man plenty of rope to hang himself.’
‘Or you,’ said Lorna drily.
Bristow was back within ten minutes, and at Mannering’s invitation sat down on the edge of the bed. There was no sign of his earlier abruptness: the accusation might never have been made.
‘Well, now, Mannering, we were talking about the trouble here. You’re right, of course, about the importance of taking no risks with Mr Morency at the house. Suspicion is sufficient for detention on some counts, without a warrant.’ There was a bark in the last sentence, but Mannering ignored it.
‘Some counts meaning espionage?’
‘Could be,’ Bristow said airily. ‘I want to clear everything up without embarrassing Mrs Vere if I can, and I’m checking the movements of the guests.’
‘Why not start on the servants?’
‘They’re clear. If you’re thinking of Logan’s trip last night you’ll like to know that there’s no known connection between that and the theft except as far as Logan’s work for Lady Usk is concerned. Now—’ His manner grew more decisive. ‘You’ve an hour to account for – between eight forty-five when the jewels were put into the safe, and nine forty-five when it was discovered they were missing. It shouldn’t be hard.’
‘It isn’t,’ Mannering said. He distrusted Bristow’s apparent frankness, but answered easily: ‘The party broke up about nine-fifteen. I went into the garden soon afterwards.’
‘Why?’ Bristow asked.
‘I wanted to see Miss Grey,’ Mannering admitted. ‘I followed her along the rose-walk, but lost her. Then I saw Morency arrive. Miss Grey returned within a few minutes, and I talked with her outside the drawing room door. We entered the room together, and she went upstairs. I followed practically on her heels, and heard Lady Usk call out. Armitage was at the card-room door and heard the cry at the same time.’ Mannering met Bristow’s eyes squarely. ‘That’s all I can tell you.’
Bristow fingered his moustache.
‘There was just time for you to get upstairs, but hardly enough for you to open the safe and get away before Lady Usk reached her room. After all, you’re out of practice – I think! – and you can’t work miracles with a safe of that type.’
‘I was never in practice,’ said M
annering sharply.
‘Well, well,’ said Bristow comfortably, ‘let’s leave it at that. Your story agrees with the others, and personally I’m glad.’ Ignoring his earlier attitude, he went on confidentially: ‘Between you and me, I’m a little doubtful of Lady Usk’s story. Her daughter says that she keeps the purse with her always, and has never been known to leave it behind. It was odd that she left it yesterday afternoon – or don’t you think so?’
‘It could look odd,’ Mannering said.
‘Yes. You’d hardly miss that point. One of the puzzling angles of the case so far is that Lady Usk has been so anxious to talk to you.’ Bristow’s voice was bland. ‘You’re not a particular friend of hers, are you?’
‘No,’ said Mannering. ‘She wanted me to see her jewels, and I honoured her.’
‘Hmm,’ said Bristow. ‘What did she say to you when you talked with her alone? Miss Grey says you were in the room for nearly twenty minutes.’
Again the atmosphere had grown tense, and Mannering knew that Bristow had seen the possibility that the peeress had not told the truth. Clearly Bristow doubted whether the robbery was what it appeared to be on the surface.
Mannering could remember his talk with Lady Usk vividly. Her fear, her excitement, reaching at one time to a point of hysteria, and her insistence that he should say nothing to the police. It was plain that Bristow was satisfied the Baron had not opened the safe, but still he believed Mannering might know more than he admitted. To get at the truth, Bristow had taken a high-hand, and then, with a fine show of confidence, suggested that since Mannering was quite clear of suspicion, there was no object in hiding facts.
Mannering said: ‘I was with her twenty minutes or so. I had the impression that she was frightened, and she told me she employed a detective to watch her. But I think there’s a very simple explanation of her wanting to see me.’
‘Yes?’ Bristow was eager.
‘She was conscious of being disliked,’ said Mannering, ‘and she believed I would be more sympathetic than the others. It’s a reasonable enough attitude, Bill.’
‘Oh,’ said Bristow disappointedly. ‘There’s nothing else? What do you mean by “she was frightened”?’
‘I didn’t even say it,’ said Mannering. ‘I said I had that impression, but it might have been the result of the shock of finding the safe open. She fainted right out, you know. I’m told her heart’s not too steady.’
‘You didn’t mean more than that?’ Bristow insisted.
‘I didn’t,’ said Mannering firmly.
‘Hmm. Did you see that little purse of hers, Mannering?’
‘Yes.’
‘She had it tucked inside her dress, didn’t she?’
‘Yes.’ A little pulse was tickling at Mannering’s forehead, for he was acutely conscious of the moment when the purse had been opened, and the pencilled threat had been handed to him. Had Bristow any inkling of that oddly-worded missive? Was Bristow still playing a cat-and-mouse game with the deliberate intention of trying to trick him?
‘There was nothing in it besides the combination code?’ Bristow went on.
‘I don’t know what else,’ said Mannering, wishing Lady Usk had not sworn him to silence.
‘Hmm.’ Bristow frowned. ‘She showed me the purse, but she wouldn’t let me look into it. It’s a peculiar affair altogether. Was Miss Grey in the drawing room all the time before she went out, do you know?’
‘No,’ said Mannering. ‘She wasn’t there for more than two or three minutes. I think she went upstairs to get a coat.’
‘That’s what she told me,’ said Bristow. He shrugged, ‘Well, it’s awkward. The servants are quite clear – thanks to a Variety broadcast we know that.’
Mannering said slowly: ‘It narrows things down pretty well. Either someone came in from the outside, or it was one of the guests. What about this Wrexford fellow?’
‘Forget him,’ said Bristow. ‘I don’t mind telling you, Mannering, that the only guests not accounted for – apart from your few minutes in the garden’ – he broke off with a sly smile – ‘are Miss Grey, Lady Usk, Mr Armitage, and that rather sharp-faced woman – what’s her name?’
Mannering felt surprised.
‘You mean Miss Markham?’
‘Yes, that’s her. Ruling you out, and assuming that Lady Usk wouldn’t rob herself, it narrows down to three people. They were all upstairs and in their rooms – they say – for at least twenty minutes of the hour we’re worried about.’ Bristow fingered his moustache thoughtfully, and then went on: ‘Do you know Mr Armitage well?’
‘No,’ said Mannering. ‘I’ve known him slightly for years, though, and if you think Tommy Armitage is your man, I’d say you were wrong. Why rule out the possibility that someone came from the outside?’
Bristow smiled. ‘Whoever opened the safe knew the combination, and the combination had to be taken from Lady Usk’s purse during the afternoon.’
‘A servant could have learned the combination and telephoned it to someone outside,’ said Mannering drily.
‘I see you’re still labouring the Logan point.’
‘Logan apart,’ said Mannering, ‘you seem to be ignoring the men Armitage saw in the grounds. He’s quite sure of himself, you know, and I chased one man myself.’
Bristow shrugged. ‘Yes, I know. But Morency might have been followed, and if he was being watched the watchers would not want to be seen.’ The words were casual enough, yet Mannering knew Bristow had Wrexford in mind. But Wrexford had claimed no knowledge of the visit to the grounds, and had been anxious to learn more about it. Did Bristow know that? He wished he could learn how much Wrexford had said.
‘Why should Mr Morency be watched?’ asked Lorna ingenuously.
‘Well,’ said Bristow, ‘he’s a gentleman of some importance, you know. A lot of people would like to know why he’s here, and what he’s doing. Which doesn’t affect the job I’m on,’ added Bristow. ‘Mannering – you’ll be frank, I hope. Do you know of anything that might help me?’
‘No,’ said Mannering. ‘I don’t know of anything about the robbery itself that could give you a scrap of help.’ ‘You’ve qualified that pretty stringently,’ said Bristow.
‘That’s the main subject you’re interested in, isn’t it?’ said Mannering blandly. ‘How long are you staying, Bill?’
‘Until Morency goes back,’ said Bristow, relaxing and clasping his hands about one knee. ‘Hallo, what’s that?’ Mannering smiled. ‘A knock on the door, Bill.’ He stepped across the room, opened the door, and saw Diana. She was breathing hard, and her eyes were sparkling angrily.
‘I want to see the Inspector,’ she said quickly. ‘Mr Bristow, will you please come along to Mr Armitage’s room.’ Bristow was on his feet at once.
‘Of course. What’s happened?’
‘He went out for a walk twenty minutes ago,’ said Diana tensely, ‘and when he reached his room again his safe had been opened. There isn’t much missing, but there’s enough. You’d better come too, John.’
Chapter Thirteen
More of Lady Usk
Bristow and Mannering reached Armitage’s room only a step or two behind Diana.
Armitage was standing in front of an open safe with an expression of startled surprise. It was possible to believe that he had stood there staring uncomprehendingly from the moment he had told Diana what had happened.
Bristow dropped to his knees beside the safe.
‘How much was in it, sir?’
‘Oh, about thirty pounds in cash. And some oddments, you know. Studs and cuff-links, worth fifty or sixty, I suppose. Family stuff, you know.’
‘I suppose you left the safe locked?’
Tommy looked a little shamefaced. ‘Well, yes. But the numbers were written down on a scrap of paper, and I left it on the dressing table.’ He pointed to a piece of notepaper held down by a hairbrush. ‘A bit careless, I suppose.’
‘A bit careless,’ said Bristow heavily. ‘Yes, I think we
can say that, Mr Armitage. I’d like my man up, Mrs Vere.’ Diana nodded towards the house telephone, and Bristow lifted the receiver and rang through for Detective Sergeant Tring. That done, he turned to the others, and said pleasantly, ‘I won’t keep you any longer for the present.’
Quietly they left the room and made their way to Martin Vere’s study. Diana sat down heavily in the largest chair, which completely engulfed her.
‘What Vicky will say I don’t know,’ she said wearily. ‘And we’ve two guests from Whitehall due this afternoon.’ Her expression was one of utter defeat, but Mannering knew she would soon regain her spirits. ‘What the devil are we going to do?’
Armitage looked ill at ease.
‘Well, you can blame me, if it’ll do you any good. It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been such a fool as to leave that paper about.’
‘Don’t be an ass,’ said Diana comfortingly. ‘The thief would have been here, even if there had been nothing to take.’ She eyed Mannering hopefully. ‘John, what did the Inspector say to you? Has he any idea who took the jewels last night?’
‘No,’ said Mannering. ‘Or if he had he didn’t tell me.’
‘I suppose this was done by the same cove,’ said Tommy tentatively.
‘Were the notes big ones?’
‘There were one or two fives, yes.’
‘Did you have the numbers?’
‘Numbers?’ said Tommy. ‘No, I didn’t. But I daresay the Bank would know. If—’ He stopped and rubbed his chin. ‘If I got ‘em from a bank, that is. I changed a twenty at a night club before I came down.’
Diana shrugged resignedly. ‘Well, there’s nothing we can do about it. If you’re going out, John, you might go towards the village. Martin and Vicky have gone for a walk in that direction, and they’d better know as soon as possible.’
‘I’ll go at once,’ Mannering promised.
As he walked across the landing he heard Lorna’s voice coming from Cecilie’s room.
He smiled with satisfaction. Lorna had understood, from that nod, what he had wanted her to do. Clearly Cecilie was the most likely suspect from the point of view of the jewel robbery, and there were several things the girl had done which were not explained. Her lies of the previous night when she had claimed to be in the rose garden, and her perturbation at mention of paste jewels were points in Mannering’s mind. There was, too, the cry, as of alarm.