'Do you mean,’ he said, 'that Orlando Mulligan had the nerve to give her dud pearls? He must have been a man of steel and iron.'
Mr. Llewellyn saw that there had been a misunderstanding, and hastened to put it right.
'No, they were genuine enough when he gave them to her. The substitution of the phonies was effected later.'
'Who by?'
'Me.'
'Good heavens!’
'Regrettable necessity. I was forced to do it when she started that joint account. I was drawing down eight hundred thousand dollars a year at the studio, but what good was it to me with Mrs. Llewellyn keeping tab on every cheque I drew? I had somehow to get me a little nest egg that she didn't know about. So I thought of her pearls. I took them to be re-strung and had the switch made. But I little knew.'
'What did you little know?'
'About Mavis.'
'What about her?'
'When Orlando Mulligan handed in his dinner pail—cirrhosis of the liver—it was found that he had said in his will that the pearls were to go to Mavis when she married.'
'Aha!'
'Don't make animal cries, Bodkin. I'm in a highly nervous condition.'
'I'm sorry.'
'Too late to be sorry now. You made me bite my tongue.'
'I only meant to convey that I could understand you being worried.'
'Worried is a mild word. I'm paralysed. I don't think you have ever seen Mrs. Llewellyn when she was really going good.'
'Not yet.'
'You will if you stick around awhile.’ said Mr. Llewellyn with a shudder. 'She ought to top all previous efforts. Of course I realized, when I switched those pearls, that I was taking a risk.'
'But it seemed a good idea at the time?'
'Exactly. The chances of anyone being crazy enough to marry Mavis were infinitesimal, I thought. I wouldn't have said it could be done.'
'Though she's by way of being a beauty, isn't she? I can't speak with authority, because it was pretty dark when we met, but that's what I've heard.'
Mr. Llewellyn had to express grudging agreement with this.
Yes, I suppose she might be called a dish, but what's beauty? Skin deep. It's the soul that counts.'
'How true.'
'And hers ought to be sent to the cleaner's to be thoroughly cleaned and pressed. When she finds out that her pearls are Japanese cultured, it'll bring out all the rattlesnake in her.'
'You don't think she may accept them as genuine, just as Mrs. Llewellyn did?'
'When she's marrying a man who's a partner in a big jewellery firm and can spot a phoney pearl at fifty paces? Don't be an ass.'
'Ponder may not spill the beans.'
'Of course he'll spill the beans. You're talking like an idiot, Bodkin, and I wish you'd go away and stay away. You've got a bedroom of your own, haven't you? Do me a favour and go there. And if you trip on the carpet and fall downstairs and break your spine in three places, it'll be all right with me. Coming here and talking drip to a broken man. Get out, Bodkin. Your silly face nauseates me.'
Monty did not linger. He was sorry to go, for he had hoped to remain and continue to give friendly advice, but something in Mr. Llewellyn's manner told him that his company was no longer desired.
2
A close observer, had one been looking in their direction as Grayce proposed her toast at the dinner table, would have noticed that the announcement of her daughter's betrothal had affected both Mr. and Mrs. Molloy far more powerfully than might have been expected in a couple to whom Mavis was a total stranger. Nor would such an observer have fallen into the error of supposing that they were elated by the news. In the look they exchanged consternation was manifest. So far from rejoicing that two loving hearts were to be joined together in holy wedlock they gave the impression that they would have been glad to learn that the owners of those hearts had gone down with cholera and were not expected to recover. Each had remembered simultaneously that James Ponder was the confiding investor to whom Soapy had sold those Silver River shares. The mention of Cannes and small clipped moustaches had been enough to refresh their respective memories. And the prospect of picking up the threads with James Ponder, who no doubt by this time had all the facts concerning Silver River in his possession, was not an agreeable one.
Of the two Soapy was the more particularly affected, for he was the one a justly indignant James Ponder would start to throttle on arrival. He put his apprehension into words as soon as they had reached their room and were able to go into conference.
'Now what?' he said, and Dolly agreed that that was the problem.
'It must be the same guy.’
'The name rings a bell.'
'He'll have had time to get all the dope on Silver River.'
'Plenty.'
'And he'll be here the day after tomorrow.’
'That's when.’
It is well established that the heart bowed down with weight of woe to weakest hope will cling. Soapy's did.
'Maybe he won't remember me,' he said.
'Talk sense, sweetie. Once seen, never forgotten, that map of yours. So dignified.’ said Dolly with a touch of wifely pride. 'He could pick you out of any police line-up if he had cataracts in both eyes.'
‘I’ll duck out tomorrow.'
'Sure. And tonight we'll see how that plan of mine works. I hadn't meant to try it so soon. I wanted to mull it over some more. But that's not possible now. Still, I think it's the goods.’
Soapy, who, like Aubrey Carruthers had been pacing up and down, halted abruptly. In competition with tonight's news bulletin the fact that Dolly had a plan had faded from his mind.
'Your plan?'
‘I told you I had one.'
'But that was for getting the pearls. We can't mess about with them now. What we've got to think about is making our getaway before the Ponder guy clocks in.'
'I want those pearls.'
'Me, too.'
'I want them the worst way.’
'Same here. But—'
'Care to hear what I have in mind?'
'No harm in talking things over.’
'She's got them in her room.'
'And what do we do? Go in and bust her with a sandbag?'
The question was plainly satirical, but Dolly considered it gravely. 'We could, but my way's better. We bust a window on the ground floor—say one of the ones in the dining-room. Make it look like an outside job."
'But—'
'Don't interrupt, sweetie. Keep listening. Then I go to her and tell her there's burglars in the house.'
'She'll probably get under the bed or lock herself in the bathroom.'
'A woman like that? She eats burglars alive. Shell come running out with me to catch this one and attend to him and while she's out you slide in and do your little bit. You won't have to hunt around. She's sure to have them in her jewel case. You just pick 'em up and leave.’
Soapy shook his head. He was thinking how sadly astray the best of women can go when they attempt anything practical.
'No good, honey.'
'What do you mean it's no good? It's a cinch. It'll be like finding money in the street.'
'And tomorrow?'
'What about tomorrow?'
'When the joint is full of cops asking us a million questions.'
'Why us?'
'Because I shall be the prime suspect,'
'Why will you be the prime suspect?'
'Because Ponder will put the finger on me.'
'He doesn't get here till the day after tomorrow.'
'We shall still be here the day after tomorrow. You don't suppose the cops are going to let us leave.'
'No, they won't let us leave, and I'll tell you why. Because we shall have left before they arrive. The minute we've got the stuff, we take the car and drive to London. And don't let me hear you murmur the words "road block", on account we'll be well away long before there's any road blocks. How long do you think it'll take to assemble the cops in an out-of-the-way pla
ce like this? It may be hours. We scrap the car outside London, and once we're in London we'll be as hard to find as a couple of needles in a haystack. Harder.’
Soapy did not speak. He could not. Love for his mate and admiration for her intellect held him dumb. He was asking himself how he could ever have doubted, when she told him she had formulated a plan of action, that that plan would be simple, effective, cast iron and, in a word, a ball of fire.
3
Night was well advanced towards dawn by the time Grayce had finished her letter to Mavis, taken a shower, covered her face with mud, put on pyjamas and got into bed. And she was just dropping off into the sleep which always came so easily to her, when the door opened swiftly and silently and her guest Mrs. Molloy burst in with a finger on her lips like a member of a spy ring about to confer with another member of a spy ring. At the same time she uttered a 'Sh!' of such significance that Grayce instinctively lowered her voice.
'Mrs. Molloy!'
'Sh!'
Grayce might have retorted that she had sh-ed and that if she sh-ed any further she could become inaudible, but thirst for knowledge overcame asperity.
'For the love of Pete, what's the matter? Is the house on fire?'
'Burglars!'
'What!'
'There's a burglar got in.'
'Well, I like his nerve.’ said Grayce severely. An idea struck her. 'Was the front door open?'
'I haven't been down to see. Why?'
'Just wondering. My daughter says there's often someone in the house working the inside stand. He opens the front door and imitates the cry of the brown owl as a signal to his pals to come along. Let's hope this one's a solo worker. I'm not like my first husband, I can't take on a whole raft of desperados at the same time.'
'Your husband used to do that?'
'On the screen. He starred in Westerns. Orlando Mulligan.'
'Oh, is that who he was? I saw him in The Sheriff of Painted Rock.’
'You caught him at his best. There was talk of an Oscar. That was the year I got mine for Passion In Paris.'
'You were swell in Passion In Paris.'
'So they all said.'
'How much did it gross?'
'I forget, but it was colossal.'
'I bet it was.'
It occurred to both of them simultaneously that they had allowed themselves to wander from the main item on the agenda. Dolly said 'But about this burglar', and Grayce realised that precious minutes which should have been earmarked for the undoing of the criminal classes were being wasted in pleasant, but idle, chatter. She rose from the bed and looked about her for a weapon. Remembering that the pistol which Mavis had left was in the top drawer of the chest of drawers, she went there and took it out.
'Oh, goody,' said Dolly. 'You've got a gun.'
'Yes, but I don't know how to use it.'
'I do.'
'Then you take it. I've always been kind of allergic to pistols since Orlando shot himself.' 'You don't say!'
'In the toe. He was showing me how quick he was on the draw. You think this burglar's still there?'
'Why not? What would be his hurry? Come on, let's go-'
'Not with this mud on my face.'
'For heaven's sake you aren't going to meet the President, it's only a burglar.'
'Not even a burglar's going to see me looking like this. You go ahead with the gun, and I'll join you. I won't be long.'
'How long?'
'Five minutes,'
'Then I guess I'll wait.'
'And I guess you won't. We don't want this porch-climber sauntering around the place, filling his little sack with nobody to interrupt him. You've got the gun. Run along and tell him to reach for the ceiling.'
It was not the power of Grayce's personality that caused Dolly to fall in with her wishes, though this was considerable. What motivated her withdrawal from the room and her passage along the corridor to her own quarters was the thought of the disastrous effect any prolonged delay would have on her Soapy's nerves. Already he was suffering from the ailment known to the medical profession as the heeby-jeebies, and anything having the appearance of a hitch in the programme might lead to a total collapse. It was imperative that a wifely pep talk be administered before the coldness of his feet, spreading upwards rendered him incapable of active work.
Mud sticks. It took Grayce rather longer than the five minutes she had predicted to improve her appearance to the point where even the most fastidious burglar would be able to regard her without raising his eyebrows. Confident at last that she would be doing nothing to make the criminal classes wince, she came out of the bathroom and going to the bed pressed a button on the wall at the head of it. This caused a bell to ring in Chimp Twist's bedroom, shattering a dream he was having about leaving Mellingham Hall with pearls to the value of fifty thousand dollars in his pocket.
It was at his suggestion that the bell had been installed, and being a man who liked his sleep he now regretted that he had ever brought the matter up. Women, to his mind, ought never to be allowed to be in a position to rout a man out of bed in the middle of the night because they thought they had heard a noise. It was to terror arising from some such cause as this that he attributed this untimely summons, and he resented it. With a moody oath he put on a dressing gown, yawned several times and descended the stairs. If he had been acquainted with the works of the late Schopenhauer, he would have sealed with the stamp of his approval that philosopher's unflattering views on the female sex.
One glance at Grayce was enough to tell him that, whatever her emotions might be, terror was not one of them. Anything less timid he had rarely seen. The news that her home had been invaded by somebody not on her visiting list had brought to life all the latent flame in her and she was once more the human tigress who had won an Oscar for her sensational performance as Mimi the Apache queen in Passion in Paris. Her lips were set, her eyes aglow, and she had found an umbrella which she was swinging in a menacing manner. She would have been the first to admit that it was not the ideal weapon, but taken in conjunction with Mrs. Molloy's Colt .38 it should be sufficient to convince this burglar that tonight was not his lucky night.
'Oh, there you are at last,' she said.
'I answered your summons with all the speed possible in the circumstances, Madam,' said Chimp with dignity. 'I was asleep.'
'So was I till Mrs. Molloy came bursting into my room.'
'Mrs. Molloy?' said Chimp, seeming to find the name significant.
'She came to tell me a burglar had got in.'
'Mrs. Molloy,' Chimp muttered meditatively. 'She had seen him?'
'No, heard him.'
'Ha!'
'What are you going Ha about?'
'I merely intended to show my interest, madam.'
'Well, I wish you wouldn't,' said Grayce with a peevishness similar to that displayed by her husband towards Monty. 'She's gone down with the gun, and I'm just going to join her. I had one or two things to do before I left.'
'Was Mr. Molloy with Mrs. Molloy?'
'No.'
'Curious-.'
‘I suppose she didn't like to wake him.'
'Quite, madam.'
The meditative note was now plainly discernible in Chimp's voice. In any matter having to do with his old acquaintances the Molloys he was practically clairvoyant. Thoughts which would not have come to one who did not know them so well came readily to him, and he did not need a blueprint to tell him when funny business was afoot. It struck him now, as if some voice had whispered in his ear, that luring Grayce from her room in order that during her absence Soapy might sneak in and possess himself of the pearls was just the sort of scheme that would have presented itself to Dolly's active mind.
'If I might point something out, madam.'
'Point away.’
'You will be leaving your room unoccupied.'
'No I won't. You don't suppose I'm going to risk having this louse of a porch-climber give us the slip downstairs and come up here, do yo
u? You'll be on guard. That's why I rang for you. Park yourself somewhere where you won't be seen and be ready to jump out like a leaping leopard when the time is ripe.'
'Quite, madam,' said Chimp, gratified that their minds had run on such parallel lines. 'I will conceal myself in the cupboard.'
The pep talk which Dolly had administered to Soapy had proved to be most effective, as her pep talks always did when she called on him to undertake some enterprise foreign to his normal line of endeavour. Beneath her soothing spell his doubts and fears had subsided, to be replaced by the spirit that wins to success. It was in confident mood that he made his way to Grayce's room. 'Keep the door ajar and your eyes skinned till you see her go downstairs,' Dolly had said, and he had fulfilled her instructions to the letter.
A momentary return of the heeby-jeebies had halted him on the threshold of the room, but he overcame it. The door was open. He stole in like one tip-toeing through tulips. He reached the dressing table, and as he did so Chimp Twist came out of his cupboard.
'Anything I can do for you, Mr. Molloy?' Chimp asked, and Soapy uttered a stifled cry like a stepped-on cat suffering from laryngitis.
Chapter Ten
As the result of her disturbed night Grayce slept late next day. You cannot pursue burglars with an umbrella at two in the morning without nature taking its toll. Dismissing Chimp with a drowsy wave of the hand on her return to her room, she climbed into bed and curled up. It was only after the morrow's luncheon gong bad sounded that she was once more among those present.
At lunch she noted the absence from the table of Mr. and Mrs. Molloy and was informed by Sandy that Mr. Molloy had been forced to leave by an urgent telephone call connected with his vast oil interests, the sort of thing that is always happening to these men with vast oil interests. Mrs. Molloy, Sandy said, would be remaining. She had taken Mr. Molloy to the station in the car.
Grayce received the news with no great regret. There was a bond between her and Dolly, for last night they had stood shoulder to shoulder like the boys of the Old Brigade, or would have so stood if they had been able to find the foe they were standing against, but she was not particularly fond of Soapy. She bore the loss of him, accordingly, with fortitude and, lunch concluded, went to the telephone to pour out to Mavis the tale of the burglary.
Pearls, Girls and Monty Bodkin Page 12