The Affair of the Thirty-Nine Cufflinks (12 page)

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'And the very next day he proposed to you,' Dorothy said, with a sigh, a little over an hour later. 'And you said yes. It's so romantic.'

Gerry grinned. 'Well, I hardly felt I could turn him down, after he'd risked his life to save mine.'

'That's not the reason, though . . .?'

'No, no. I was quite certain by then. If he hadn't proposed, I probably should have.'

'When are you getting married?'

'I don't know. We would have been married by now, but the poor darling had a death in the family, and that led to a lot of complications, which he had to go and try to sort out. Which is why I'm here at the mo—'

She stopped short and both girls gave a start as from somewhere in the house came the sound of a loud crash. It had a sort of metallic ring to it, as if someone had dropped a heavy tool box. Although muffled by the thick drawing-room door, Gerry realised that the fact they could hear it at all must mean it had been very loud. She jumped to her feet. 'What on earth was that?'

She hurried to the door and pulled it open. Dorothy, after thrusting her feet into her shoes, joined her. For a second, all was silent, then came the sound of a woman's voice. It was shouting, sounding more angry than afraid, and definitely came from upstairs, but from which wing it was impossible to tell. They could not make out the words.

Dorothy gasped: 'Oh, can that be Mother?'

'Let's go and find out,' Gerry said.

She ran across the hall and up the grand staircase, Dorothy at her shoulder. They had nearly reached the head of the stairs before the shouting stopped. At the top, Gerry turned towards the east corridor and passed a room on her left, which was used for the storage of linen and where the upstairs end of the secret passage emerged. The next room was the last before the corner which led to the east corridor. She made to hurry on, but Dorothy stopped by it. 'This is Mother's room.'

'Oh.' Gerry had not known which room had been allocated to Clara. 'I think the voice came from farther away.'

'Let me just check.' Dorothy tapped on the panel. There was no response and she opened the door an inch or two and gave a loud stage whisper. 'Mother? Are you all right?' There was still no reply, and she opened the door wider, groped for the light switch and clicked it on. Then she gave a muffled half gasp, half-scream and moved violently backwards, cannoning into Gerry.

Gerry stared past her into the room. The large double bed, sideways on to them in the centre of the wall on their right, was wildly dishevelled, the bedclothes half falling onto the floor. Clara was lying across the bed, her head hanging over the near side. Her face was nearly as white as the bed linen and her eyes, pointing fixedly at them, were totally lifeless.

Chapter Eighteen

Dorothy buried her face in Gerry's shoulder. Her voice came in hoarse whispers. 'No. No. No.' Gerry wanted to scream herself, but she just raised her hand and robot-like patted Dorothy on the shoulder.

Then there was the patter of footsteps, and suddenly her father was beside them. Gerry had never been so pleased to see him.

'What the deuce is going on?'

Gerry just pointed into the room. He gazed past her and made a sharp intake of breath. Then he went into the room. He gingerly approached the bed, bent and took the wrist of Clara's left hand, which was hanging down, nearly touching the floor. He clasped it for a few seconds, then let it go and straightened up. He turned round, looked at Gerry and slowly shook his head.

That second the Countess arrived. 'What's wrong?'

Gerry said: 'It's Clara. She's dead. It looks as though she's been murdered.'

'Oh no! It can't be possible!'

'I'm afraid there's no mistake.' The Earl's face was almost as white as the dead woman's. He muttered: 'I feared something like this.'

Dorothy was now sobbing uncontrollably, convulsions shaking her body.

Rapidly getting a grip on herself, Lady Burford said: 'Geraldine, take Dorothy to her room.'

'Yes, yes, of course.' She said gently: 'Come along Dorry,' and tried to lead her away. But Dorothy suddenly resisted. 'No. I must see her first, properly.'

She pulled away from Gerry and half-stumbled into the room. She crossed to the bed and stood looking down for ten seconds, while the others watched. Then she turned and came back. 'I - I think I would like to go and lie down now.'

'Come along, then.' Gerry put her arm round Dorothy's shoulder. 'Er, which is your room?'

Dorothy pointed to the left. 'The third on the right.'

'Oh, next door to me.' Gerry led her slowly along the corridor and opened the door of Dorothy's room. As she did so, she saw the door of the outside corner bedroom at the end of the corridor open and Timothy, dressing-gowned, emerging. She did not pause to explain the situation to him, but switched on the light, led Dorothy into the room and pushed the door closed behind them. Just inside, Dorothy suddenly resisted.

'What's the matter?'

'If Mother was - was murdered, the murderer's got to still be in the house, hasn't he?'

'Oh, I don't think—'

'But your burglar alarm. The Earl was saying earlier that no one can get out without setting it off.'

Gerry bit her lip. It was, of course, true.

'Suppose he's in here?' Dorothy said, fearfully.

'I'm sure he's not.'

'But why not? We must search. Will you look under the bed?'

'Of course.'

She walked across to the bed and knelt down, while Dorothy went to the large wardrobe, stopped and took a deep breath, before reaching for the knob. In spite of her airy manner, Gerry did feel a slight
frisson
of apprehension as she lifted the bedspread and lowered her head. Just suppose . . . ? But all was clear. She stood up at the same moment as Dorothy, with obvious relief, firmly reclosed the wardrobe door.

'Nothing,' Gerry said, 'and there's nowhere else in here he could be.' The rest of the furniture consisted of a dressing-table and stool, a bedside table, one easy and one upright chair.

'I expect you think I'm terribly silly.'

'No, I should have thought of it.'

Dorothy sat on the bed, meticulously removed her shoes, then put her legs up and lay down.

'Can I get you some brandy?' Gerry asked.

'No, really, thank you.'

'Or just a glass of water?'

'Nothing at all just now, thank you.'

'I'll stay with you.'

'There's really no need.'

'I want to.'

'Well, if you're sure. You're very kind.'

Gerry sat down herself in the easy chair. Her mind was in a whirl and she did not know what to say. Should she offer sympathy and commiserations? It hardly seemed adequate. Would apologies be more in order? Did any blame attach to her family? On two occasions they had had guests murdered under their roof. Now it had happened again. Was there anything she or her parents could have done to prevent it? Gerry closed her eyes. She suddenly felt very, very tired - something she was not at all used to.

Meanwhile, Lord Burford was explaining to a shocked Timothy what had occurred. Within a few seconds, they were joined by Gregory, Jean Mackenzie and finally by Tommy, to all of whom the situation had to be explained anew. Each of them, it seemed, had been woken by the crash and had got up to investigate.

'What the dickens caused that noise?' the Earl muttered. 'There's nothing in there' — he pointed into Clara's room—'to account for it.'

'I can tell you that,' said Gregory. 'I was closest to it. Tremendous noise. The door of your art gallery's open, and I looked in. It was that old suit of armour you've got in there. It's fallen over - pieces scattered all over the place.'

Lord Burford looked totally bewildered. 'Why on earth should he have gone in there? There's no way out that way. And he surely couldn't have knocked it over accidentally.'

Before anyone could answer him they saw a sudden moving splash of colour at the far end of the main corridor. It was Stella and Penny, one in a sky-blue and the other a pink dressing-gown. They hurried towards the group, Stella calling out urgently: 'Have you caught him?'

The Earl stared at her. 'You saw him?'

'Yes, he was in my room.'

'In
your
room?' It was Timothy who reacted first. He looked really concerned. 'Did he attempt to harm you?'

'No. Something woke me, I opened my eyes and could just see the outline of a person poking about by the dresser. I yelled out something and he made a bee-line for the door.'

'Thank God. But what a terrifying experience for you!'

'It was all over too quick to be terrifying, really. I kept on shouting, he ran out and I lost sight of him. I jumped out of bed and ran to the door. I was still shouting at the top of my voice - I read once that if you surprise a burglar it's best to make as much noise as you can - but he'd disappeared. Then Penny emerged.'

Penny said: 'I didn't see him. I just came out to see what Stella was shouting about. We decided the best thing to do was wake Daddy. Then, when we got to his room, we saw you all. What is happening?'

The Earl put his hands to his head. 'Will somebody please tell them? I can't go through it all again.'

Timothy drew the two girls aside and started talking to them in a low voice. Penny gave a little scream. Stella remained silent, but her eyes widened in horror.

The Countess said urgently: 'George, we can't stand here all night like this. We must do something.'

'Yes, yes, of course. Losin' my grip a bit, I'm afraid. Just all too damn familiar. Doctor, first, I suppose, then the police. Lavinia, could you telephone them?'

'Of course.'

'I'll have to organise a search of the house. I'll rouse Merryweather, and he can wake the footmen. There are three of them, but it's still going to take some time.'

Gregory said: 'Well, you can count on me to help.'

'Yes, me too,' Tommy said eagerly.

'Oh, thank you. Well, William, Benjamin and Albert are all strapping lads, and even Merryweather's no weakling, so we should be able to handle him.'

Timothy turned away from the girls and was obviously about to speak. But before he could do so, Gregory addressed him directly.

'You'll probably be advised to keep out of it, dear cousin. I mean,
you're
not exactly a strapping lad, are you?'

Timothy's face remained expressionless but his complexion noticeably darkened. He moved towards Gregory and held out his hand. 'I appreciate your being so concerned for my safety.'

Clearly taken aback, Gregory hesitated for a second before taking the proffered hand.

Nobody afterwards could say precisely what happened next. With the speed of a striking cobra, Timothy pulled Gregory towards him, turned, put his left arm round Gregory's neck, bent his knees and drove back with his hips. The larger man's feet left the ground, he performed a graceful somersault in the air and the next second had landed on his back with a thump that shook the floor. Timothy said quietly: 'I have been practising ju-jitsu for a number of years, and am a 3rd Dan.'

As Gregory clambered awkwardly to his feet, the others gazed at Timothy speechlessly, the two girls with something like awe. 'Zowie!' Stella murmured under her breath, then softly to Penny: 'Did you know he could do that?'

Penny, wide-eyed, shook her head. She whispered: 'He goes to a gym twice a week, but I thought he just did physical jerks and things.'

'He's quite a guy, your pa.'

Meanwhile, as though nothing had happened, Timothy was addressing the Earl. 'Naturally, I will take part in the search. You are convinced, I take it, that this villain is still on the premises.'

'Urn - what? Er . . .' He was uncertain whether or not to make any comment about what had happened, then decided it was better not to. 'Can't see any other explanation. I explained about our security system. Merryweather locked up at about ten thirty - he always reports to me as soon as he's done so - at which time the alarm automatically switches on. So the fellow must have got in before that. Now, we'd better search in pairs: each of us go with one of the servants. You three chaps better follow their leadin', as they all know the house like the backs of their hands. I don't suppose any of you ladies feel like goin' back to bed?' He looked in turn at Jean Mackenzie, Stella and Penny. There was a vigorous shaking of heads.

'Right, then, I suggest you all go downstairs with Lavinia. Stay together and you should be quite safe. Now I suppose I've got to wake Merryweather and tell him the news.'

Chapter Nineteen

Gerry jumped to her feet as a light knock came at the door, and Dorothy opened her eyes. Gerry hurried to the door. 'Who is it?'

'Me.' It was the Earl's voice.

She opened the door. 'What's happening?' she asked.

He kept his voice low. 'We've just completed a search of the house. There's no sign of an intruder.'

Gerry's eyes widened. 'Are you sure?'

'Absolutely. We've looked in every room, every recess, in every cupboard, under every bed. Even the secret passage.'

'And he's certainly not in here.'

'That's what I was going to ask you. It suddenly occurred to me.'

'I checked under the bed and Dorry in the wardrobe. I suppose the alarm system
could
be faulty. I mean, nothing's absolutely infallible, so he could have got out.'

'Possible, I suppose. No doubt the police will check it.'

'You've called them?'

'Your mother will have done so by now.'

'Where is everybody?'

'Downstairs. I'm just going to join them. I need a drink. Er, you'll stay here, I suppose?'

Gerry was about to answer when Dorothy joined them in the doorway.

'How are you, my dear?' asked the Earl.

'All right, thank you.'

'Forgive my mentionin' it, but you haven't phoned your sister, have you?'

Dorothy shook her head. 'I explained to Gerry, she was going to a party this evening. I meant to phone about half-past twelve. I think she would have been back by that time. But then - it all happened. Er, what time is it?'

Lord Burford glanced at his watch. 'Just gone one thirty.'