At this Hunter laughed so much that he slopped his drink and had to cling to Dr. Best's shoulder for support. He took out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes. When he spoke next it was with none of the suppressed or open animus towards the doctor he had shown so far.
"It's probably jolly sinister to laugh as much as that," he said, "but I simply couldn't help it. Well, that rounds things off nicely. Now I must insist that you break your rule just this once and take a drink. Come and join the others."
Dr. Best seemed quite touched at being thus invited. He allowed himself to be led across the room and given a gin and tonic-a weak one, as stipulated. He listened to the ensuing talk with great interest.
Using a rather peevish tone, Leonard was saying to Ross-Donaldson, "Aren't we sort of hanging about a good deal? How long can Churchill have been… upstairs by now? At this rate I'll be-"
"James isn't with Lucy, is he?" asked Hunter.
"He borrowed Alastair's jeep and it's outside now."
"Oh, I see."
"Even assuming he was commencing matters just as we arrived," said Ross-Donaldson, looking at his watch, "he's still about five minutes overdue already. But of course a margin like that isn't really significant."
"What computation are you using?" asked Ayscue.
"Well, naturally it's all very approximate, but the expected positive correlation between age and duration has shown itself to be experimentally verifiable. The interesting thing is that, whereas some parabolic function would seem likely, what you in fact get is something pretty linear. My guess would be that, with a broadened sample, you'd get a concave asymptote as you moved further along the age axis, though a convex one at the other end strikes me as unlikely. Anyway, I don't suppose we'll be able to plot that in practice."
"Who do those two other cars outside belong to?" asked Leonard.
"One would be mine, no doubt," said Dr. Best with a smile.
"And the other presumably belongs to whoever let us in," said Ross-Donaldson.
"But where is he?" asked Leonard.
At this point two men in civilian clothes appeared at the threshold. "Good night, all," they said, and withdrew.
Ross-Donaldson half closed his eyes and did a couple of very slow nods.
"Well, what happens now?" asked Hunter.
"We hang on for a bit," said Ross-Donaldson, again looking at his watch. "This is still Phase 1, wherein Lucy makes periodic reappearances. In half an hour or so we get to Phase 2, wherein she doesn't."
"In the meantime we'd better decide whose turn it is next," said Hunter.
"Dr. Best's, obviously," said Ross-Donaldson. "He was here before any of us."
"I thought I'd made it clear that I was visiting Lady Hazell in my professional capacity and in no other."
"You only made it clear to me," said Hunter. "Until this moment you hadn't a chance to make it clear to the rest of us."
Ayscue said, "I think I'd better make it clear too. I haven't come along for what I believe is the usual purpose either. Which I'm not criticizing for a moment, don't run away with that idea."
"You surely don't think, padre, that Lucy would want to see you in your professional capacity, do you?" asked Ross-Donaldson.
"Padre?" said Dr. Best. "Padre?"
"Yes, believe it or not I'm a member of the Army Chaplains Department. I know I'm not dressed as one, if that's what's mystifying you. But wherever possible I believe in not bringing the cloth into disrepute. If there'd been a crowd here tonight, as I understand there sometimes is, I might not have been able to get round to everybody and explain that my mind was on higher things than theirs was. Hence the incognito, doctor."
"May I ask what does bring you here?"
"I gather there's a room full of old books somewhere in this building. Stuff that hasn't been looked at for years. I thought I might make arrangements to spend a day or two over here seeing if there's anything interesting. I go for the eighteenth century mostly. You never know what you might pick up in that way."
"Quite so."
After a pause, Hunter said, "That doesn't leave many of us who are here for the usual purpose, does it? Just Alastair and me, it looks like."
"And me," said Leonard.
"Oh yes, sorry, Brian. Anyway, how shall we sort it out? There are still five people to be accommodated in various ways."
"It's perfectly simple," said Ross-Donaldson. "But before I indicate the lines to be followed I insist that we all have another drink. Hunter, would you give me a hand, please?"
"Sure."
The two moved away to the drinks table. On the others a short silence fell.
Dr. Best eventually said to Ayscue, "You're a literary man, then."
"Oh, not really. Just a dabbler. Music is more my line. Again, the eighteenth century is my thing on the whole."
"I've always myself thought there was a certain amount to be said for Bach, though his hysterical emotionalism is a grave limitation."
"I suppose you're talking about that stuffy old provincial four-in-a-bar organist. I must say I find his son Carl Philipp Emanuel far better value. All those wonderful tunes you can't sing. Not that there isn't something in Johann Christian as well, in a sort of Mozart-for-the-kiddies way."
"A deeply anxious mind. That of Mozart."
"Yes. Good in other ways, too."
"Do you play an instrument?" asked Dr. Best.
"Not to much purpose these days. I was a fair hand at the fiddle in my youth."
"And you, Captain Leonard. Are you of a musical cast of mind?"
"A what? Oh no. No, I'm afraid not. I don't seem to get much-"
"Here we are, chaps," interrupted Hunter, handing glasses. His demeanor was more excited than just earlier. "A weak one for you, Brian. There. Now everybody pay attention to Alastair. He's worked out the whole time-table."
"The padre's problem can be settled in one minute flat after Lucy appears," said Ross-Donaldson. "So that's him out of the way. Then I think that, by rights, Dr. Best should have the chance of seeing Lucy about whatever he wants to see her about, which leaves-"
"It's kind of you to be so careful of my interests," broke in the doctor, "but I'd prefer to talk to Lady Hazell after she's… I mean I'd sooner have her undivided attention."
"We'll put you last, then."
"I don't mind waiting around a bit," said Leonard. "Put me next to last."
"As you wish. You've made a good recovery from your recent fit of impatience. So now it's just you and I to sort out, Hunter."
"You go first if you like. Of us two."
"Right. So it's the padre, myself, Hunter, Leonard, the doctor. Everybody got that? Good. The only remaining question is the transition from Phase 1 to Phase 2, and I'll deal with that when I take my turn. Just remember that in Phase 2 it's the responsibility of the outgoing man to advise the next on the list that the position is vacant. A couple of minutes' interval is all that's necessary… Ah, good evening, Lucy. I always admire your sense of timing. May I present Major William Ayscue of the Army Chaplains Department, Captain Maximilian Hunter of the Carabinier Guards, and Captain Brian Leonard of the Sailors? And, uh, Dr. Best. Gentlemen, this is Lady Hazell."
"What can I do for you, doctor?" asked Lucy at once.
"It's a personal matter, Lady Hazell. I'd like to defer it a little while, if it's all the same to you."
"It isn't quite. I'd like to get it over now."
"I really think, giving my professional opinion, that in the interests of all concerned it would be better to approach the question in private."
"If you say so, doctor.., Well, Major… Ayscue. Do I understand that you're a chaplain? A clergyman?"
"Yes, you do, Lady Hazell, in sheep's clothing as I am, but let me explain why I've come to call on you."
When Ayscue had finished, Lucy said, "Well, of course, please look at anything you like. It's nice to have someone taking an interest in the stuff. You can have a sort of first go now if you feel like it. I'm afraid things ar
e in rather a mess in there, but Mrs. Stoker dusts round once in a way and there is a light. If you come with me I'll show you where it is."
She took Ayscue's hand and led him away.
"What I don't understand," said Leonard, "is where Churchill is."
Ross-Donaldson looked mildly surprised. "He's clearly not around," he said. "He understands the rules of the house as well as anybody. Either he'd be in here, or he's not around. He's not in here so he's not around."
"Well, where is he, then?"
"He's probably gone ages ago."
"I didn't hear him drive away. I'm sure I would have done. I'm going to have a look out the front."
"Is he always like this?" asked Dr. Best.
"I think it's just that he feels there are large parts of the world he doesn't understand. He likes to reduce them whenever he gets a chance. I can see his point in a way. I think in his shoes I'd probably do much the same."
"He suffers, then, from certain anxieties," said the doctor with a glance at Hunter.
"I wouldn't know about that, I'm afraid," said Ross-Donaldson. "Not one of my fields, what people suffer from,"
Leonard came hurrying back. "Your jeep's still there, Alastair."
"I dare say it is."
"Well then, where is he?"
"He may be in the lavatory, he may be making himself a cup of coffee, he may have gone for a walk. It isn't worth exerting oneself to find out which, because on one point we can be sure. He's not around. We know the answer to the only question the situation can possibly be taken to pose. Or rather"-Ross-Donaldson frowned slightly-"one of the only two questions."
"What's the other?" asked Hunter.
"It's only come up in the last thirty or forty seconds. Where's Lucy?"
"Showing Willie the library, I understood."
"The library opens off the far end of the hall, a round trip of perhaps fifty yards. Half a minute's march." Ross-Donaldson looked at his watch.
"But they've only been gone about three minutes. She's probably showing him round a bit. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"
"You don't know Lucy. She doesn't show people round libraries."
"You think they may be hopping into bed? You don't know Willie. Very chaste chap, Willie. He never stops setting an example."
"Lucy's a very attractive woman. In fact she possesses to a very high degree the most attractive characteristic of all: availability."
"You find that attractive, do you?"
"Don't you?"
"Not especially, no."
"In that case what are you doing here?"
"Let's leave that," said Hunter. "Anyway, even if they have gone off for a little while, what do you care? It'll be your turn next."
"Once made, arrangements should be adhered to. And I don't think Ayscue really grasped my point about the onset of Phase 2."
"Oh, surely he must have done. It sounded simplicity itself to me. Anyway, I see that the situation is restored at last."
On his way to the threshold, where Lucy now stood, Ross-Donaldson said to Hunter, "Wait for me here."
"Right."
"About that matter we were discussing," said Leonard, urgently even for him. "Will you excuse us again, Dr. Best?"
"By all means."
"Oh, for God's sake, Brian, what is it now?"
"Where's Churchill?"
"I can't think of any way of stopping you asking that except by either killing you or telling you, so I suppose I'd better tell you. But before I do, you answer me a question. Do you want to know where James is for Security reasons or do you just want to know?"
Leonard opened his mouth readily enough to reply, but slowly closed it again. Then he said, "I'm not sure. A bit of both, most likely."
"There are times, Brian, when I very nearly like you a great deal, though I'd better not say that in front of the good doctor. Now"- Hunter went straight on-"at this moment Lieutenant Churchill is upstairs in the bedroom, and in all probability the bed, belonging to a certain Catharine Casement, a friend of Lucy Hazell's and like me an ex-patient, or a patient, of Dr. bleeding Best, who, if he heard what was going on, would, I know jolly well, dash upstairs and pull them apart and start asking them whether they thought they were going the right way about bringing their repressed hatred of each other out into the open."
"Oh, surely not. You must be exaggerating."
"Well, whether I am or whether I'm not, I just don't want that bastard pawing and nosing and snuffling his way round those two. You see if you can use your imagination a little to think how unpleasant that would be. And if you can't, shut up about where Churchill is just the same."
"Of course, I understand. I'm awfully sorry, Max; I didn't know, you see. I do hope I haven't put my foot in it or caused any-"
"No no, dear boy, that's perfectly all right, I assure you. I merely wanted to head you off. But there's a more important point. You shouldn't be wasting your time wondering about Churchill while Dr. Best's around. Ask yourself this. If, as he says, he's only here to talk to Lucy about Catharine, why has he turned up now? Why not come during the day? Why pick a time when the place is full of other people? Including officers from the camp?"
Before Leonard could reply, Ayscue hurried into the room with a sheaf of papers in his hand. His face was less gaunt than usual.
"This is amazing," he said loudly. "Look at this, all of you. Found it stuffed between the pages of a Victorian biological encyclopedia, of all things. Must have been there for a hundred years."
What he was displaying was a number of sheets of music, creased, yellow and spotted, but quite legible. Leonard caught the words Vivace assai.
"Does the name Thomas Roughead mean anything to you?"
Hunter and Leonard shook their heads. Dr. Best said he was not sure.
"Late eighteenth-century chap. More or less the generation after Boyce. Chum of Jonathan Battishill. Organist at the Temple at one stage. And… pupil of the very same Johann Christian Bach you and I were discussing not half an hour ago, doctor. Absolutely fantastic!"
"What about this Roughead?" asked Hunter.
"I have discovered," said Ayscue, "what I bet you anything you like is the only surviving copy of Roughead's trio-sonata in B minor for flute, violin and clavier. Hitherto known only in a transcription for two pianos by that awful old ass Cipriani Potter. Plus a couple of pages of a rather dull organ piece by John Stanley. I say, I wonder how much Lady Hazell would want for the Roughead."
"I should think she'd let you have it for what it's worth," said Hunter. "Viz, nothing."
"Oh, surely it'd be worth quite a bit," said Leonard. "It's not as if it's by anybody famous, I know, but it is old. You know, like an old master. You don't have to know who the old master is."
"This is music, you fool," said Hunter in his ordinary tone. "Worthless by definition. I remember sitting down to listen to a whole piece of it once. Somebody's symphony in four movements, it was. I couldn't make out what it was supposed to do for me. It seemed to be inviting me to run about, lie down and go to sleep, rush about, and then run about again. But I didn't want to do any of that."
"You were using it for the wrong purpose," said Dr. Best. "Except for martial airs and such, and in a rather different way music for dancing, the art is not concerned with action. It moves us to contemplation, which assists us in resolving our various conflicts. Through harmony we progress toward harmony."
"Well, I didn't, the time I was telling you about. I progressed in the opposite direction, thank you. That's another thing I've got against it. It introduced me to conflicts I didn't even know I had."
"Who was this monster?" asked Ayscue. "He sounds to me rather like Sibelius."
"No, he began with a B. But then most of them do, don't they?"
Hunter continued to disparage music in general, on grounds that became increasingly obscure, until Ross-Donaldson returned to the room.
"Phase 2," he said to Hunter. "I should go up in a couple of minutes."
"
Let's fill in the time together."
They moved apart. Dr. Best looked as if he had got used to people doing that. Ayscue offered the music sheets to Leonard, who took them and turned through them with pretended interest. He tried to think of any comment at all.
"Where's the telephone?" Hunter was asking Ross-Donaldson.
"By her bed, I'm afraid."
"Not the only one?"
"Oh yes. There used to be one in here, she was telling me, but she got rid of it because she got fed up with having to come all the way downstairs to put it back on its hook after she'd left it off its hook while she went upstairs to take it in her bedroom."
"Thanks for putting it so cogently. But it leaves the problem intact."
"She'll cheerfully go into the bathroom if you tell her it's Army business."
Ross-Donaldson turned out to be right. Hunter was alone when eventually he picked up the telephone and sat down on the bed. The time he had spent in it with Lucy seemed to him much longer ago than the just-now it must really have been. What had taken place had been all right, but rather like trying to quench thirst by drinking a liqueur. The main difficulty had been to avoid catching himself pretending or fancying that he was with somebody else. This would have been far from unpleasant in itself, but not enlivening either. He had managed to steer clear of it nearly all the time.
He finished his telephone call and went and tapped on the bathroom door. Lucy came out. She had no clothes on.
"I'm off now," he said.
"Did you get through and everything?"
"Yes thank you. Sorry to have pushed you out like that."
"I was going in there anyway. Who's next on the list?"
"Brian Leonard. Then Dr. Best intends to have his word with you."
"Oh dear. Tell me-Max? Max-is Mr. Leonard sort of all right?"
"Captain Leonard. He'd mind dreadfully if you got that wrong. Yes, he's all right really. Treat him gently, won't you?"
"I treat everyone gently."
"I suppose it's possible. Oh. Willie Ayscue found a bunch of old music in your library. He wants to buy it off you. He seems to think it may be valuable."
"Tell him he can have it, but I'd like him to send some money to a charity I do things for. Tell him I'll ring him up about it."
The Anti-Death League Page 11