“Surely,” said Lady Katherine, “he can’t dream of thinking of you…” She turned with an air of tragedy to her nephew. “It’s too impossible,” she whispered. “He seemed to be a gentleman.”
“Give her this,” said Charlot. Into Roberta’s hand she thrust a sheet of paper on which she had written in block capitals: “DARLING, DID YOU TELL HIM WE ASKED GABRIEL FOR TWO THOUSAND?”
In obedience to signals from the rest of the family, Roberta displayed this communication to them before handing it to Lady Katherine, who instantly began to fumble for her glasses. These secured and slung across her nose, she read Charlot’s message, her lips forming the words, her hands trembling. She laid the paper on her knees and, looking piteously from one to the other of the Lampreys, she whispered: “I didn’t tell him how much.”
Frid groaned. There was a short silence. Roberta watched Lady Katherine’s hand, swollen a little with arthritis and still trembling very much, grope in her bag for a handkerchief. Suddenly Henry walked over to his aunt and stooped to kiss her.
“Dear Aunt Kit,” said Henry gently. “You are so kind.”
It was perhaps at this moment that Roberta first realized that she was in love with Henry.
It is not easy to thank a deaf person for a large sum of money when every word of thanks may compromise the speaker in the ears of an attentive policeman. The Lampreys pulled themselves together and made a pretty good job of it. Lady Katherine seemed to have some difficulty in hearing French though she whispered away at it herself with great fluency. The conversation was therefore conducted along bilingual lines, the Lampreys’ less dangerous remarks being made in English, though Roberta thought there seemed to be very little point in disguising the deplorable state of Lord Charles’s finances if Lady Katherine had already told Alleyn about the object of the interview with her brother, and if Inspector Fox knew about Mr. Grumball.
After a few minutes there was a tap on the far door, which the constable opened. Fox’s voice was heard in a brief mumble and in a moment he came in.
“Mr. Alleyn, my lord,” said Fox, “would be obliged if Lady Patricia could come to the dining-room for a few minutes.”
“Off you go, Patch,” said her mother. Her voice had lost nothing of its crispness, but, as Patch passed her, she took her hand and gave her a smile that to Roberta seemed like a brief flash of desperate anxiety. Patch went out.
“It’s rather like French Revolutionary films,” said Frid. “You know, the ones where the little group of aristocrats gets thinner and thinner.”
“For God’s sake, Frid,” said Henry, “hold your tongue.”
“Manners, love,” said Frid in Cockney.
The door opened again and Dr. Kantripp cme in. Roberta wondered if this endless night was to be punctuated by visits from Dr. Kantripp. Each time he came in it was with the same hurried air of concern. Each time, he shook hands with Charlot and with Lord Charles.
“Well,” he said, “she’ll do all right, Lady Charles. She’s better. Had a sleep and less agitated. Still rather upset of course. Inclined to be…” He made an expressive gesture.
“Mad?” asked Frid. “Stark ravers, would you say?”
“My dear girl, not that of course, but rather unsettled and unlike her usual self, no doubt.”
“My poor Dr. Kantripp,” said Charlot, “you don’t know her usual self.”
“She’s pretty grim even when at her jolliest, poor Violet,” said Lord Charles gloomily.
“Has there ever been any trouble?” asked Dr. Kantripp delicately. “Up aloft, you know? Hysteria and so forth?”
“We’ve always considered her a little odd,” said Lord Charles.
“A little, Daddy,” said Frid. “My dears, let’s face it, she’s ga-ga. You know she is, Daddy. What about that nursing-home she used to whizz off to?”
“An occasional crise-de-nerfs,” Lord Charles muttered.
“She’s seen an alienist?”
“Yes, yes, I think so. Not for some time, though. She became a Christian Scientist about five years ago and I daresay my brother hoped that would help. But it didn’t last very long and lately she’s been tremendously taken up with some kind of occultism.”
“Black magic,” said Frid. “She’s a witch.”
“Dear me!” said Dr. Kantripp mildly. “Well,” he added, I’ve suggested that she should see her own doctor.”
“What did she say to that?” asked Charlot.
“She didn’t say anything.” Dr. Kantripp glanced at the constable. “She doesn’t say very much.”
“I know,” agreed Charlot. “She just stares. It’s rather alarming.”
“Do you know if she’s in the habit of taking anything? Ah — aspirin? Anything to make her sleep?”
“I don’t know,” said Charlot sharply. “Why?”
“Oh, I merely thought that if there was anything already prescribed she might as well go on with the same dosage.”
“Tinkerton would know.”
“She doesn’t know of anything.”
“Dr. Kantripp,” Charlot began, “what are you—” She was interrupted with some violence by Stephen.
“What’s that?” he demanded loudly. “Listen!”
There was a distant rumbling. A doorbell rang.
Baskett’s step sounded in the passage and in a moment he came in.
“If Mr. Fox might speak to you, my lord?”
“Yes, Baskett, of course.” Lord Charles hurried out. The door shut, but not before Roberta heard a sort of muffled rattle from the direction of the landing.
“That was the l-lift,” said Stephen. “I thought the police had d-disconnected it.”
“They had,” said Henry.
“I think I know what it is,” said Dr. Kantripp. “Don’t worry, Lady Charles. The police are attending to things, you know, and we have been expecting the — ah — the—”
“They’re taking him away?”
“Yes.”
“I see. Does my sister-in-law know?”
“I asked the nurse to explain. Lady Wutherwood is so very — I didn’t suggest that she should be present. Only distress her. If you’ll excuse me I think I’d better have a word with Alleyn.”
He went out, meeting Patch in the doorway.
“I say,” said Patch, “there are more men going into 26. They’re using the lift.”
“Shut the door,” said Colin.
But even with the door shut they could hear unmistakable and heavy sounds of Uncle G.’s departure. Even the Lampreys had nothing to say and sat in an uncomfortable hush, listening and yet not appearing to listen. With a clank and a heavy mechanical sigh, Uncle G. went down again in the lift.
Henry moved to a window of the drawing-room, pulled aside the curtains and looked down into the street. The others watched him uneasily and in a moment the twins joined him. Unwillingly, Roberta read in their faces the stages of Uncle G.’s progress. Henry opened his window more widely. Down in Pleasaunce Court, doors were shut. An engine started, a motor horn sounded, Henry dropped the curtain and turned back into the room.
“I suppose,” he said, “I shall not be promoted to first suspect if I merely observe, thank God for that.”
“Patch,” said Charlot, “has Mr. Alleyn finished with you?”
“Yes, Mummy.”
“Then go to bed, darling. I’ll come and say good night if I can. But don’t stay awake for me. Run along.”
Patch wandered to the door where she turned. “He hardly asked me anything,” she said. “Only what we were all doing in the dining-room when—”
“Pas pour le jeune homme,” said Frid warningly.