“I’ve been such a frightful fool. Slopping all over him because I thought he was like Mr. Rochester and all the time he’s just vain and selfish and rather common. Pretending his soul was lacerated by what happened and all the time he was just afraid he’d be mixed up in it. I’m so ashamed of myself.”
“Oh,” said Dikon.
“And for him to give me those things. And look at me as if I was a cheap plaything — I didn’t make a face. You can’t say I made a face.”
“You never batted an eyelash. But you’re too hard on him. He’s kind-hearted, and he gives presents like you’d shell peas. Model dresses are no more than a couple of rosebuds to him.”
“And when Daddy told him, very nicely, that I couldn’t possibly accept them he behaved frightfully. He said: ‘She can etc. well turn an etc. nudist if it amuses her.’ Sim heard him.”
“That,” said Dikon, controlling his voice, “is because he’d been dealt rather a stiff smack in the pride. It’s a bit galling to have your presents returned with quiet dignity. He felt like two-penn’orth of dirt and that made him angry and bewildered.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but he really ought to have known better. And don’t let’s talk any more about the things because, however much I try, I can’t pretend I didn’t like them.” Barbara looked at Dikon. “Which makes the whole thing rather comic, I suppose.”
“Bravo, Miss Claire,” said Dikon. He took her arm and to his great astonishment felt her hand slip into his own.
“You will write to me, won’t you?” said Dikon. “If the war lasts a long time you will forget what I’m like, but I shall come back.”
“Yes,” said Barbara. “Come back.”
“That,” said Mr. Falls, “is about all, I fancy. I’m going down to Wellington as soon as the inquest’s over. Hush-hush conversations with the P.M. and the Commissioner and so on. I’m afraid we’ve only caught a sprat, but at least it will show the seriousness of the position.”
“Yes,” said the Superintendent. “We’d got into the way of thinking these things don’t reach us down here. The boys go away, reinforcement after reinforcement, and then it gets a bit closer and we begin building up our home forces, but we don’t somehow think in terms of fifth columnists. Or the general public don’t. We’ve been very fortunate to have you.”
“I’ll say!” said Mr. Webley. “You know, sir, there was the old doctor writing in and writing in and yet the thing looked somehow ridiculous. He had hold of the wrong end of the stick, of course, but the idea was right.”
“Yes,” said the Superintendent heavily, “the idea was right.”
Mr. Falls said: “Dr. Ackrington behaved very well. As you know I got him to come and see me in Auckland. That was after I’d had his letter. But I didn’t decide to go to Wai-ata-tapu until the next day when you people suggested it. There was no time to warn him and we met face to face on the verandah while I was doing my decrepit dilettante stuff. He didn’t turn a hair. He backed me up nobly. We had to take the Colonel into our confidence, of course, and that was a bit tricky. And while I’m handing out bouquets I should like to say how very grateful I am to Webley. He was extraordinarily good over the whole show.”
“There you are, Sergeant!” said the Superintendent.
“He insisted on my doing the summing-up business. We both thought that as the espionage aspect of the thing was an open secret among them, it was best to let them know the truth. Simon Claire, for one, would have raised a hell of a dust if there had been any doubt left in his mind. As it is, they have all undertaken to say nothing. If you can adjourn the inquest and hold things over for a little it will give me a chance to dig a bit deeper before the principals realize quite how much we know.”
“You don’t want to appear at all, I gather?”
“Mr. Septimus Falls will have to give evidence, I’m afraid, but he will not return to Wai-ata-tapu.”
Sergeant Webley passed his hand over his face and gave a low chuckle.
They all stood up and the Superintendent held out his hand. “It’s been a real privilege,” he said. “I’m sure Webley has felt like that about it.”
“I’ll say! A great day for me, sir.”
“We’ll meet again, I hope, with a bigger catch.”
They shook hands. “I’ll warrant we do,” said the Superintendent, “with you on the job. Good-bye, Mr. Alleyn. Goodbye.”
The End