The Affair of the Thirty-Nine Cufflinks (34 page)

'Just why you pretend to be the typical dumb blonde of fiction and the films, when in your own way you're obviously a very smart young lady.'

'Well, Tommy'd never marry anyone cleverer than himself. And though he's absolutely adorable, he hasn't got the world's greatest brainbox. So I've got to be pretty dumb, for the time being.'

At that moment, the adorable one emerged from the house, carrying a small overnight bag, just as a police car rolled up.

'My transport,' Wilkins said. 'Back to the station and a lot of paperwork, I'm afraid. Well, good luck, Miss Saunders.'

'Thank you for everything, Mr Wilkins. You were wonderful.' She stepped forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

Wilkins reddened a little, gave an awkward little bow and hurried to the car. Penny waved as it moved off.

Tommy came across to her. 'New boyfriend, Penny?'

'Oh, he's sweet, Tommy, don't you think?'

'Well, not exactly the word I'd use, not after the way he put me through it.'

'It was your own fault, you silly boy, telling all those fibs about playing a practical joke on Miss Mackenzie and pulling down the armour.'

'I know. But everything's OK now. I've apologised to Gregory for what I said and he's promised not to sue me for slander. And I've thought of an absolutely spiffing idea for a company. It'll be called Get Your Own Back, Ltd. It's really up my street. What happens is that if anyone's had an absolutely rotten deal from somebody, their boss, say, or a boyfriend or a girlfriend, they come to me and I pull a prank on the culprit, just like I did to the Hodges. Then if the client's happy, he or she pays me: ten, twenty quid, perhaps even fifty for a really super wheeze. He's got to pay, because he knows that if he doesn't I'll do the same sort of thing to him. Of course, I'd have to make absolutely sure first that the client is in the right. And I wouldn't do anything to really hurt anybody, just give 'em a very uncomfortable and embarrassing time. It really fits my talents. What d'you think?'

'Tommy, it's terrific. It could really work.'

'And I wouldn't need much capital to get started. It'd hardly eat into my fifteen hundred quid at all.'

'Don't you mean fourteen hundred and fifty three?'

'Oh. You guessed. Forty-seven?'

'Mm. Is it a bookie?'

'Yes. I put fifty quid, which I didn't have - over the phone - on this absolute cert. It came in fourth. I've been horribly worried. But it's all right, you needn't lecture me. I've learnt my lesson.'

'Good.'

'So we're in business?'

'Well, I'm sorry, Tommy, but I really don't think I can be the Managing Director.'

Tommy hid his relief. 'That's OK. Be a - a consultant. That's it. All you'll have to do is just keep your eyes and ears open and when you hear anybody moaning about how badly someone's treated them, just point them in my direction. I'll pay you commission. Then when I come up with a wheeze I'll run through it with you and you can tell me if there are any flaws, or suggest refinements, and so on.'

'Oh, that sounds perfect.'

'Topping! I'll put your name on the letter heading. I'll even get you some cards, '
GET YOUR OWN BACK, LTD
. Miss Penelope Saunders, Special Consultant.' '

'
Special
Consultant? Oo, that's even better. Tommy, this is so exciting.'

'I think I can come up with a better name.'

They turned round. It was Julie, who had approached, unheard.

'What's that?' Tommy asked.

' "Get Even, Ltd." That's what we say in the States. It's shorter and snappier.'

Tommy nodded thoughtfully. 'Yes, I think you're right. Penny, your first consultation. What do you think?'

'Mm. I like it.'

'That's settled, then. Oh, and I've got something for you, Julie.'

He put his hand into his pocket and took out a crumpled tube of toothpaste. 'This is yours. I put it in a vase in one of the empty rooms and just retrieved it.'

She threw up her hands in mock delight. 'I'm overcome! I thought I would never see it again. I've been devastated.' She clasped it to her breast. 'But it's come home! I shall keep it always, as a souvenir. Tommy, you've done the decent thing.'

'One tries to, don't you know.'

'But seriously, Tommy, I want to apologise again, for impersonating Stella. I know you were very fond of her. I don't mind about the others but I feel fooling you was pretty mean.'

'No, it's all right. I was fond of her a long time ago. But I'm not sure she was all that fond of me. I mean, she never wrote - just Christmas cards. Not even birthday cards, even though I sent her one regularly for years. And I'm beginning to think all those letters to Florrie were for only one reason, really.'

'Well, I have to say she never showed much affection for her. She was always saying things like, "Oh lord, I suppose I've got to write to Florrie again this week. Crashing bore." It used to kind of rile me, sometimes.'

'Well, I don't blame you for what you did. I think it took a lot of spunk.'

'That sure makes me feel better. Timothy actually said that while he could not approve of what I did, it demonstrated considerable initiative. I guess I'm pretty lucky all round.'

'Guess we all are,' said Tommy.

* * *

Jean Mackenzie took a last look around the room, then, carrying her small suitcase, made her way towards the stairs. She had just reached them when she saw the Countess leaving Gerry's room. She hurried across to her.

'Oh, Lady Burford, any further change?'

'No, she's still sleeping very peacefully and normally.'

'How wonderful. A real answer to prayer.'

'Yes, indeed.'

'I have been feeling so guilty, having in a way been responsible for bringing Agatha to this house.'

'Please don't think like that. Only Agatha was responsible.'

'I still find it so hard to believe that she should do such terrible things. She was a strange girl in some ways, and most outspoken in her language. But I was nonetheless fond of her. It must have been some inherited - oh, inherited from her mother's family, of course - some kink of the brain, perhaps, for which she could not really be blamed.'

'I find it difficult to think like that, I must admit.'

'Oh, naturally, naturally. We cannot know, of course. We must simply commit her to God's infinite mercy.'

'Yes, well, we all need that.'

'I would like to thank you for your great kindness, and for making me feel so much at home here, in spite of the unusual circumstances.'

'Not at all. It's been a pleasure having you. We are all grateful for your kindness to Florrie over many years.'

'Thank you.' She went slightly pink. 'Would you consider me terribly impertinent if I offered a small piece of advice?'

'Not at all.'

'Please don't think I've been spying, but I spent a lot of time yesterday simply sitting, staring out of the window. And I saw Lord Burford twice, once carrying a large bunch of nettles, and later burying some small items each side of the porch. It was obvious, of course, what he was attempting.' She broke off and frowned before saying thoughtfully: 'I wonder if he tried bent pins or nails, as well.'

For a moment Lady Burford was at a loss for words. Here was somebody who seemed to find her husband's behaviour not at all odd. She had to try and find out more. 'I wouldn't know. But, er . . . he did mix blue and red ink to make purple.'

'Purple ink? I don't quite . . . Oh, wait. Yes, I think I see. He had some candles, no doubt.'

This woman was miraculous, thought Lady Burford. 'Well, one candle. And later, after Geraldine was attacked, he did say it should have been a real purple candle.'

Miss Mackenzie nodded sapiently. 'He's right, of course. But I honestly don't think it would have made any difference. Do tell him that. It may set his mind at rest.'

The Countess moistened her lips. 'He - he also said Rosemary should have been here. But we don't know anyone called Rosemary. At least, I certainly don't. I keep asking myself, if George does, why he should never have mentioned her?'

Miss Mackenzie smiled. 'Oh, I shouldn't be concerned about that. I'm sure he was not thinking of any female friend. But the advice I wanted to give was that these things are not really a good idea. Far better to have a word with your rector.'

The Countess had considered the possibility of consulting the doctor, but the idea of consulting the rector had not entered her mind. But she gave nothing away. 'Yes, I'm sure you're right. I'll tell George. Thank you.' She suddenly felt very indebted to Miss Mackenzie and groped around in her mind for some way to show it. 'By the way,' she said, not without a slight qualm, 'I'm sorry your experiment was spoiled. If at some time you would like to come and try again, we would have no objection.'

'Oh, that is very kind of you, Lady Burford. But no, thank you all the same. I shall never touch a ouija board again. In fact, I'm giving up all that sort of thing. I realise I have been very gullible. I shall always be interested in psychic research, but I won't let it take the place of true religion in future.'

'I'm sure that's a wise decision.'

'And now I really must go. The car will be coming round. Thank you again, and good-bye.'

'I'll come down with you,' said the Countess.

They descended the stairs. A moment later, Timothy came out of his room and started towards the stairs himself. As he did so, Gregory appeared around the corner of the east corridor. They saw each other at the same time, both slackened their stride for a second, then continued to advance. At the top of the stairs they stopped. Both spoke together.

'Look—'

'I—'

'You first,' said Timothy.

'Well, just wanted to say, very sorry. For my suspicions and the way I acted. Idiotic, really, but sort of lost my head. Frankly, in a blue funk, to tell you the truth.'

Timothy gave a quick nod. 'I know. I have never behaved in that way before. Quite irrational. But it was a unique situation. So I apologise, too.'

'Perhaps we should, er, bury the hatchet. After all, it's many years since it all started and we're not getting any younger.'

'Yes, I agree. Let bygones be bygones.'

'I had nothing to do with that photo being taken, by the way.'

'No, I realised afterwards that you couldn't have.'

'Might I ask, what you said about St. John's Wood: how did you know . . . ?'

'Oh, I was lunching at my club one day — the Reform. There were some chaps talking at the next table. Couldn't help overhearing them. One of them seemed to be an MP and he was telling them about one of his colleagues who was paying the rent for "a little bit of fluff", as he put it, in St. John's Wood. In the next few minutes it came out that the man he was talking about was a Tory, married, had a small majority, and sat for a strongly non-conformist West Country rural constituency. I realised all of it applied to you. I have to admit that later I browsed through
Who's Who
and a couple of parliamentary reference books, and found that you were the only one who fitted the bill.'

'I see. No idea anybody knew. Actually, I'm going to end it - or rather, I've thought up quite a subtle way to make sure she does. It's been pretty nerve-racking. And, after all, I do like Alex. Wouldn't want to lose her.'

They went down the stairs and outside.

Chapter Forty-Two

It was Saturday morning and Wilkins was in his office, working on his report, when his phone rang and he was told, by an impressed girl on the switchboard, that there was a call for him from the Earl of Burford.

'Ah, Wilkins,' said the Earl, when he got through, 'sorry to bother you again, but wonderin' if you could come out to Alderley some time today.'

'Oh, my lord, not another - ?'

'Great Scot, no! Nothing wrong. It's Geraldine. She wants a chat with you: to compare notes, as she puts it. She's got to stay in bed for a couple of days and she's not a good patient, is bored stiff and frankly is driving everyone crazy. She's been nagging me to phone you.'

'My lord, I'll be delighted. I've been hoping for a word with Lady Geraldine myself.'

'Splendid. Come around four, if that's all right.'

* * *

Gerry was sitting up in bed, wearing a pink bed jacket. Apart from the fact that a bandage completely enveloped her head above the eyebrows (in spite of Dr. Ingleby assuring her it was not necessary, she had insisted upon this), she looked quite ridiculously healthy.

Wilkins went across to the bed. He was carrying a large bunch of red roses.

'Oh, are those for me?' Gerry asked, unnecessarily. She took them, held them to her nose and breathed in deeply. 'How lovely! Thanks awfully.'

'Rather superfluous, I'm afraid,' Wilkins said, looking round the room. There were about eight large vases, all filled with flowers of every conceivable colour.

'Oh, you can never have too many flowers. Marie, put them in water, please. And we'd like some tea in about half an hour.' She handed the roses to the maid, who left the room.

'Sit down,' Gerry said, pointing to a chair, and Wilkins did so.

'How are you feeling, Lady Geraldine?'

'Terrific. It's barmy, making me stay in bed, but Ingleby's a bit of an old woman. Up tomorrow, though, thank heavens. But let's not talk about me. I've got absolutely millions of questions. I've only had a second-hand account of things.'

'From his lordship?'

'No, he didn't take it all in, by any means. Actually, from Merryweather, who was outside the door throughout and just happened not to have closed it properly. But there's a lot to be filled in. So, please.'

'Well, first of all I've got to admit that at the beginning I made a bad mistake. I briefly considered the possibility that Dorothy had done it, but as soon as you gave her a cast-iron alibi, I decided that the murder had to have arisen out of the scene at the will-reading: that Mrs Clara's threat had frightened someone, who decided she had to be silenced before she could spill the beans. In fact, the murder had been planned well in advance and Mrs Clara's outburst had nothing to do with it. But it was a big stroke of luck for the girls, because for a while it stopped me looking for any other motive. I kept questioning them about whether their stepmother had ever mentioned having some dirt on any of the other guests. And I'll say this for them. They could have taken advantage of the situation to try and divert suspicion on one of the others: said yes, Clara had mentioned knowing something disreputable about Timothy or Gregory. But they didn't.'