Adders on the Heath

'I see,' said Dame Beatrice, perceiving clearly that, so far as the Superintendent was concerned,

Richardson was by no means out of the wood. 'Very well, then. You shall be fully informed of his movements.' She saw the Superintendent off and then went back to Laura, who was helping Hamish with a crossword puzzle.

'I still think the word we want is egret, not heron,' said Hamish, 'because then it fits with equal, radical and tiara. Oh, yes, you did say tiara. Did you know they've lost one of the royal jewels at the Tower of London? It's not very valuable in itself, but does it have sentimental value? I mean, suppose I found it, could I get a decent reward, do you think?'

'I think you'd probably end up in Borstal. Oh, hallo, Mrs Croc, dear! You arrive at a timely hour. My off-spring is driving me up the wall.'

'I wonder why they call us offspring,' said Hamish. 'I understand that the birth of a human being is rather a slow process.'

'Oh, go and buy yourself something at the village shop,' said Laura. 'And please take a jolly long time about it.'

'My mother,' said Hamish formally to Dame Beatrice, 'is rather peeved because she can't remember what is interesting about Cantor Taratosh. It only needs eight letters and it's a four one three. I say it's Shot a Rat, although I don't see why he should.'

'You are correct,' Dame Beatrice assured him. 'The Fall of Mendel Krick' by Isaac Babel, was produced by the B.B.C.'s Drama Department, and the incident to which you refer took place during a service in a synagogue in the ghetto of Odessa during the Tsarish régime. One more thing, when you have pencilled in your crossword puzzle-oh, by the way, twenty-two down should be Calvin, not calves-we are returning home.'

'Ma said it should be Calvin,' said Hamish generously. 'Sorry, Ma. That makes isobars come right, so that's the end of it. Why do we have to go home? I like it here.'

'Mr Richardson and Uncle Denis are coming back with us.'

'Oh, well, that's different. Will they stop playing golf and help me with my homework?'

Dame Beatrice could not promise either of these things. Hamish took his pocket-money and himself off to the village shop and Dame Beatrice took Laura into her confidence.

'Oh, Lord!' said Laura, at the end of the recital. 'Think we ought to have let Hamish go into the village alone? That skunk did try to run down those two girls, you know.'

'I do not believe he would risk running down Hamish in the village street in broad daylight, child.'

'There's a nasty bend before you get to the water splash.'

'Mr Campden-Towne will have no check on the boy's movements, my dear Laura, but, if it will save you from feeling anxiety, let us order the car and go after the boy.'

'Good heavens, no! Hamish would loathe it. I couldn't do that. We shall have to chance it. Anyway, you say he'll be all right and I'll take your word for it.'

'Well, I hardly see how Mr Campden-Towne could find out (except by clairvoyance) that Hamish would go to the village just at this particular time.'

'I'm sorry. I'm just a fussy old hen.'

'Oh, no, you are not. We shall need to be careful in the future. Mr Campden-Towne will discover where we have gone and it is at the Stone House that we shall need to keep watch. We do not want Hamish to be kidnapped and held as a hostage for our good behaviour. I am glad we shall have the two young men and George with us. They must help us to garrison the place.'

'It sounds like fun. All the same...'

'We had better have the car,' said Dame Beatrice.

Hamish was surprised to see them. They met him on the village side of the watersplash.

'Hallo,' he said. 'I didn't know you were going for a drive. Anywhere decent?'

'Hop in, if you've bought what you want,' said Laura crossly. 'Sit beside George.'

'Have a toffee, George?' said Hamish, between whom and the chauffeur there had always existed a warm friendship. 'Where are we going?'

'Along the Bournemouth road for a bit, sir.'

'Bournemouth? Not a bad idea.'

'Along the Bournemouth road,' said Laura frostily. Hamish turned his head, politely pouched his piece of toffee in his left cheek, and asked (as well he might, having given her no cause to take offence),

'What's the matter, Ma? Have I done anything I shouldn't-or said anything, I mean?'

'Good gracious, no,' said Laura, recovering her equanimity, 'of course you haven't. And we will go to Bournemouth, if that's what you'd like.'

They went to Bournemouth and Hamish and his mother swam in the warm September sea. Dame Beatrice sat in the lounge of the hotel and made notes. George gossiped with the man in charge of the hotel garage. A fine and pleasant time was enjoyed by all. They had dinner in Bournemouth and did not return to the New Forest Park Hotel until ten o'clock. Hamish was sent to bed and a telephone message was waiting for Dame Beatrice from the Superintendent.

'I have passed on your ideas and they have been received with interest, but with a good deal of caution. I will get in touch with you later on, if I may.'

Dame Beatrice telephoned back and told the Superintendent that she would be delighted to be in touch with him again.

'So, next time I reach you, ma'am, you'll be at your own home?' he asked.

'At the Stone House,' said Dame Beatrice. They returned to it on the following day.

'I say,' said Hamish, 'do I have to go to the vicar tomorrow morning? It's Divinity and his views are a bit dim, you know.'

'You're not thinking of becoming a minister of religion?' asked Dame Beatrice.

'Oh, no. I am an informed agnostic. It's the same with ghosts,' said Hamish.

'Indeed?'

'Oh, yes. You remember the person who said, "I don't believe in ghosts, but I'm afraid of them," don't you?'

'Really, my dear Hamish?'

'Well, it's the same with me and religion.'

'Believe me, a very well-balanced point of view. It will all sort itself out in time.'

'What do I do now, though?'

'Be strong and very courageous.'

'Be your age,' said Hamish, rudely and unkindly.

Dame Beatrice cackled and, with a thin but iron arm, forestalled Laura's intention of clouting her son. 'Sorry,' said Hamish, without conviction. 'That was nasty of me, wasn't it?'

'It was,' agreed Dame Beatrice. 'One should respect the aged. I refer, of course, to myself.'

'I do respect you. Where do we go from here?'

'Into a state of siege.'

'Siege? You mean the house might be surrounded? Oh, good! What about sharing out the guns?'

'Noiseless warfare!' said Dame Beatrice, impressively. 'Knives, as the gentleman said, are a different matter.'

'George once told me that, given a decent-sized spanner, he could take on three gunmen and lay them out.'

'George issued an understatement. He often does. He is a Londoner. He could lay four of them out.'

They had left the hotel at just after three and had driven along the Forest roads for an hour before they ended up at Lymington to make for the Stone House. Richardson had telephoned his mother, for Dame Beatrice, in semi-serious mood, had informed him that he might have to fight for his life if he came to her home.

Five o'clock found them all at tea in Dame Beatrice's comfortable drawing-room and at six o'clock Célestine, Dame Beatrice's housekeeper, parlour-maid, housemaid, friend and jealous guardian, addressed her spouse Henri, who was enjoying a bottle of wine and a snack of bread and cheese in the kitchen.

'Madame enrages herself. She has enemies.'

'She does not enrage herself,' protested Henri, 'but I think there are some things in the air.'

'What makes the young Monsieur Richardson?'

'He is, perhaps, a murderer.'

Célestine shrieked.