Shadow The Baron (17 page)

“Yes,” said Mannering. “She’s all right.”

“You mean –”

“I mean that someone else had the bright idea that it might be a good thing to separate her from Smith,” said Mannering. “She won’t come to any harm. She probably knew that Muriel was planning something against Smith, didn’t she?”

“She – she might have done.”

‘That would explain it,” said Mannering, and smiled behind the scarf. It explained why Celia had been amenable, if she knew what Muriel had been planning, she would more readily believe that Smith had killed the girl. The murder of Muriel and Celia’s behaviour were easy to understand now.

Lee said sharply: “What do you mean? Explain what?”

“Why Muriel was murdered,” Mannering said.

Lee cried: “Murdered!” The word shrilled through the house, not loud, but vibrant with emotion. Before Mannering realised what he was going to do, Lee rushed forward, thrust him aside and pounded towards the kitchen like an avenging fury.

Mannering reached the kitchen as Lee picked up a chair and raised it high above his head. There was murder in his face as he rushed at Smith. Smith’s eyes were open, and he saw what was coming. He couldn’t move his hands, couldn’t do anything to save himself. The chair smashed downward as Mannering flung himself at Lee. They fell together and as Mannering, momentarily stunned, struggled to get up, he saw Lee standing behind Smith, with his hands round the man’s neck.

Smith was straining forward in the chair, and his eyes were flaming with fear.

Mannering grabbed the chair; there wasn’t a moment to lose. He banged Lee over the back of the shoulders. Lee didn’t release his grip. Mannering struck him again, then gripped his wrists until Lee at last let go.

Mannering watched the younger man as Lee breathed gaspingly. It was easy to see that he wasn’t for the moment, sane, but he made no further attack, and Mannering relaxed.

He put his hand up to his scarf, which in the scuffle had dropped. Smith was looking at him, with dazed recognition. There was nothing Mannering could do about that now. He took off his hat and tossed it to a chair. Both Smith and Lee followed its flight, as if it had some hidden significance. He lit a cigarette, took it across and placed it between Smith’s lips.

Lee was also lighting a cigarette, with trembling hands.

“That’s two lives you owe me,” Mannering said. “Two each. Enjoying yourself, Smith?”

Smith didn’t answer.

“I’ve been here some time,” Mannering said. “I followed Lee. He was silly enough to leave the back door unlocked.” That wasn’t true, but Lee didn’t deny it, and it might satisfy Smith about the ease with which he had got in. If Smith knew he had forced a lock, he would probably start thinking, and soon reach the mysterious Mr. Brown. He might be there already.

Smith grunted.

“And I heard an interesting conversation. I now know why you killed Muriel.”

“I agree as to the interest,” said Smith, “but if you are taking up eavesdropping as a profession, it is unwise to believe all you hear.”

“You fixed it.” Mannering said steadily. “Lee, I’m the Mannering Smith spoke about who is helping Major Fleming. I know where Celia is.”

“So you managed that one all by yourself,” said Smith, in mock admiration. “One day, if you keep trying, you might think up something that’s really original.”

“Such as what to do with a man who starts to kill another, with a third party’s gun,” suggested Mannering.

“You might get away with framing Fleming on one job, you wouldn’t succeed with two.”

“Wouldn’t I? Nevertheless there’s a certain opulence, a lack of niggardliness, about two that appeals to me. If I wanted to frame Fleming, I couldn’t think of a better way than killing the Lees. The Flemings blame the Lees for Celia’s fall from grace. Don’t they think she’s grown up yet?”

“They think she’s had a bad break,” Mannering said.

Lee ground a half-smoked cigarette into an ashtray. His voice was husky.

“What happened to Muriel?”

“She was killed in Fleming’s hotel room, last night.”

“I’ll get you for it, if it’s the last thing I do,” Lee said, and his eyes were smouldering as he looked at Smith.

“I wasn’t anywhere near the hotel last night.” Smith said righteously. “Mannering and all the police in Scotland Yard couldn’t prove that I was there. You may not believe it, Mannering, but I hadn’t anything to do with Muriel’s murder, though I would have thoroughly enjoyed killing George.”

“And framed Fleming.”

“Certainly.”

“What have you got against Fleming?”

“I just don’t like him,” Smith said pleasantly. “When are you going to take these cords away, Mannering?”

“I haven’t decided what to do with you yet It would make a pretty story for the police.”

“You won’t take it to them.”

“Why not?”

Smith said: “You haven’t got what you want yet.”

“And what do you think I want?”

Smith grinned.

Lee said abruptly: “I can’t believe it. Muriel dead. Mannering don’t trust him. He killed Muriel. He knew we were planning to take Celia away, and it was his method of stopping me.”

“Why did you work for him in the first place?”

Smith said approvingly: “That’s right, my boy, answer that one.”

Lee flushed, but didn’t avert his gaze.

“Muriel fell for him. I wanted to part them, but he offered me a good job. As Muriel said she was in love with him and wouldn’t leave him, I took it. That was a long time ago. I’ve been in and out of the Army since then.”

“And you came back and worked for Smith?”

“Why not?”

“What work did you do?”

Smith interrupted with a practiced smoothness: “Honest work, Mannering! I’ve a legitimate business, didn’t you know? George is a pretty good buyer. He buys up all the electrical appliances for me, mostly bankrupt stock, and then the mail ordering gets busy. As for Muriel, our affair was washed up years ago. At first George was pretty sore about the way he said I’d treated her; and then he met Celia. Believe it or not, dear George lost his heart.”

The words seemed to sear the air.

Lee said thickly: “You fooled me for a long time, but I got wise to you. And from then on I planned to take both Celia and Muriel away from you. I would have done it, too, I would have done it.”

“Don’t you believe it. If Mannering hadn’t come along, Celia wouldn’t have left the flat. She wouldn’t trust you as far as she could see you.”

“That’s a lie! There was a time when –”

“She had a crush on you? Poor dear George. She was merely practising on you.”

Lee said: “I can’t stay in the room with this swine any longer; if I do I’ll break his neck.” He blundered out, and they heard a door close with a bang.

Smith’s lips curled.

“Don’t trust him, Mannering.”

“I haven’t reached the stage of trusting anyone.”

“You’re wise. What about cutting these cords?”

“I’m still undecided,” Mannering said. He turned on his heel. Glancing back from the door, he saw venom in the man’s expression, and in his eyes the unfamiliar emotion of fear.

It would do Smith no harm to endure for a while the treatment he was so prone to give to others.

Mannering went into the big room. George Lee was sitting in the armchair in which he had so contentedly counted the money. His explanation of that might be true; but – on the other hand – it might not. It was as well to remember that all good liars sounded plausible. Now Lee looked dejected and distressed, with a cigarette drooping from his lips, his eyes wide open and his gaze fixed on the ceiling. He didn’t glance at Mannering, who went across to the cocktail cabinet, and poured out two whiskies and sodas. He needed one himself.

Lee shook his head.

“Don’t be a fool,” said Mannering.

Lee took the glass, and sipped.

“I just can’t believe it,” he said. “I knew I’d live to regret getting mixed up with a swine like Smith, but that he should kill Muriel –” he tossed the drink down and pushed the glass away with an ungentle hand. “Oh, I’ve asked for it. But Muriel was still in love with him. Only when I realised that he’d some damnable influence over her and over Celia, did I see how bad he is. He crawls. Did you know that he uses hypnotism?”

Mannering nodded.

“When Muriel and I discovered that, we knew how crazy we’d been. We tried to get Celia away. Now – I don’t know what to do, she’s dead –”

“Celia isn’t.”

“Muriel could have done more with Celia than anyone else possibly can,” said Lee. “I won’t have a chance, myself; she never looks at any other men. Smith’s got her exactly where he wants her. Muriel would have helped to get her back to normality and later –”

He stopped, and literally shook himself. His voice deepened. “Oh, hell!”

He went out, but there was nothing wild about him this time. Somewhere nearby, water splashed vigorously out of a tap. Soon, Lee returned, his hair rough dried into points.

“That’s a bit better.” He forced a grin. “I’ve got to get a grip on myself. What are you going to do with Smith?”

“Let him go, but he doesn’t realise it yet.”

“Sure that’s wise? We could charge him with assault, couldn’t we? If the police knew all about it, they’d probably send him down for a year or two. That would give Celia a real break.”

“She’s having one.”

“Not while Smith’s free,” Lee said.

“He doesn’t know where’ she is, and she’ll stay hidden quietly for a few days. In order to find her, he’ll take big risks.”

Lee nodded, comprehendingly. “Give him enough rope to hang himself. I suppose there’s something in that. There’s another thing you ought to know.”

“What is that?”

“He’s in some racket or other. The mail order business at Buckley Street is just a blind. I don’t know much about it, but just before I left England, Muriel told me she thought that he dealt in stolen jewels. She even said – “he broke off, and gave a forced laugh.

“Even said what?”

“That she thought he was the Shadow. You know, the chap who’s making such a sensation. I don’t think he’d have the guts but he might handle the Shadow’s loot. Is that the kind of thing you hope to pin on him?”

“More or less,” said Mannering. “Can you tell me anything more about Muriel’s suspicions?”

Lee said: “Sorry, no. I was obsessed with the need for getting Celia away. I didn’t pay much attention. But I’ve had a lot of time for thought since. Too much. Been playing with the idea that we might catch Smith out on some crime. If he were jailed, it would give Celia a damned sight better chance.”

“Have you ever heard of a man called Caton?”

“Caton?” Lee frowned and pushed his fingers through his curly hair. “No, I can’t say I have. I knew a chap named Caton once, he was with my squadron for a few months. Should I know Caton?”

It could be an ingenuous reply; Mannering was inclined to think it an honest one. If it were honest, Lee had no idea that Smith was Caton.

“Did Muriel ever mention the name?”

“I don’t recall it.”

“Where would Muriel’s personal papers be – her Will, and all that kind of thing?”

“I doubt if she made a will, and she didn’t have much in, the way of private papers. They’d be at our flat – we shared a small flat, not far from Buckley Street.”

Lee’s sad eyes showed a gleam of interest. “You mean, she might have collected some dope on Smith, and kept it somewhere?”

“Possible. If they’re at the flat, the police will have them. Why didn’t you go straight there when you reached England?”

“Had a note from Muriel while I was away,” Lee said. “I’ve got it somewhere.” He took out his wallet and began to rifle through its contents. “She said that she thought the flat was being watched. That Smith was suspicious. And that he’d been asking for me and for information as to where I was. I thought he’d start throwing his weight about if I turned up there. I don’t mind admitting that Smith puts the wind up me. He’s an uncanny devil.”

“That’s half pose. When did you arrange to come here?”

“I’ve been here quite a lot,” said Lee. “I kept it secret – didn’t want Smith to know. If he’d discovered that I was working with Major Fleming, he might have –”

He broke off, raising his hands. Some of the letters dropped.

“Might have done what?”

“It’s hard to say.” Lee spoke sharply. “The man just gets under my skin. If it hadn’t been for Celia, we’d have had a head on crash a long time ago, but his influence over her – how the Devil did you manage to get her away?”

“There’s a weak link in his influence – she’s very fond of her mother.”

“Yes, I know that. Well, you fixed it, that’s the main thing. Where is she? I’d like to see her, if only to say hallo.”

“There’s plenty of time for that,” said Mannering. “Sure you don’t know where Muriel might have kept papers?”

“Only at the flat.”

“Oh, well,” said Mannering resignedly. “What are your plans for tomorrow morning?”

“I was going to hare up to town and put this cash into my friend’s bank. The sooner it’s off my hands the better. He’ll be advised when it’s there, and will release the funds to me, in Italy. I’m a bit worried about it, if the exchange control people find out there’ll be hell to pay, but if ever a thing was justified –”

“Worry that out with your conscience,” Mannering said, and smiled. “I wouldn’t let it weigh too heavily. The question now – how to scare the wits out of Smith?”

“Sure you won’t turn him over to the police?”

“Not yet,” said Mannering.

“Pity, in a way,” Lee said, “but you seem to know how to take care of yourself. I’d be turning cold by now, if you hadn’t come along. One day –”

“Forget it.” Mannering stood up.

“Here’s that letter from Muriel,” Lee said.

“Thanks – may I keep it?” Mannering put the letter into his pocket, “Where will you stay in London? The flat?”

“No, I don’t think so. The Lithom Hotel, Aldwych.”

“Telephone me tomorrow evening,” Mannering said, and gave Lee a card.

“Right!”

“You might give me a hand getting Smith to the car,” added Mannering.

“Where are you going to take him?”