“Not a bit of it. The night’s young and it’ll be tactful to show up. Besides I’ve got to make arrangements for tomorrow.”
“I don’t know how you do it.”
“Of course you don’t my darling. You’re not a cop.”
She tried to protest but was so bemused with sleepiness that her voice trailed away as Ricky’s had done. By the time Alleyn had washed and found himself an overcoat, Troy too was in bed and fast asleep. He turned off the lights and slipped out of the room.
Left to itself, the little silver goat glowed steadfastly through the night.
Chapter X
Thunder in the Air
i
Alleyn left word at the office that he might be late coming in and said that unless he himself rang up no telephone calls were to be put through to Troy. Anybody who rang was to be asked to leave a message. It was nine o’clock.
The porter opened the doors and Alleyn ran down the steps to Raoul’s car. There was another car drawn up beside it, a long and stylish racing model with a G.B. plate. The driver leaned out and said cautiously: “Hallo, sir.”
It was Robin Herrington.
“Hullo,” Alleyn said.
“I’m on my way back actually, from Douceville. As a matter of fact I was just coming in on the chance of having a word with you,” Herrington said rapidly, and in a muted voice. “I’m sorry you’re going out. I mean, I don’t suppose you could give me five minutes. Sorry not to get out, but as a matter of fact I sort of thought — It wouldn’t take long. Perhaps I could drive you to wherever you’re going and then I wouldn’t waste your time. Sort of.”
“Thank you, I’ve got a car but I’ll give you five minutes with pleasure. Shall I join you?”
“Frightfully nice of you, sir. Yes, please do.”
Alleyn walked round and climbed in.
“It won’t take five minutes,” Herrington said nervously and was then silent.
“How,” Alleyn asked after waiting for some moments, “is Miss Truebody?” Robin shuffled his feet. “Pretty bad,” he said. “She was when I left. Pretty bad, actually.”
Alleyn waited again and was suddenly offered a drink. His companion opened a door and a miniature cocktail cabinet lit itself up.
“No, thank you,” Alleyn said. “What’s up?”
“I will, if you don’t mind. A very small one.” He gave himself atot of neat brandy and swallowed half of it. “It’s about Ginny,” he said.
“Oh!”
“As a matter of fact, I’m rather worried about her, which may sound a bit funny.”
“Not very.”
“Oh. Well, you see, she’s so terrifyingly young, Ginny. She’s only nineteen. And, as a matter of fact, I don’t think this is a madly appropriate setting for her.” Alleyn was silent and after a further pause Robin went on, “I don’t know if you’ve any idea what sort of background Ginny’s got. Her people were killed when she was a kid. In the blitz. She was trapped with them and hauled out somehow, which rocked her a good deal at the time and actually hasn’t exactly worn off even now. She’s rather been nobody’s baby. Her guardian’s a pretty odd old number. More interested in marmosets and miniatures than children, really. He’s her great uncle.”
“You don’t mean Mr. Penderby Locke?” Alleyn said, recognizing this unusual combination of hobbies.
“Yes, that’s right. He’s quite famous on his own pitch, I understand, but he couldn’t have been less interested in Ginny.”
“Then — Miss Taylor is related to Miss Grizel Locke who, I think, is Penderby Locke’s sister, isn’t she?”
“Is she? I don’t know. Yes, I think she must be,” Robin said, shooting out the words quickly and hurrying on. “The thing is, Ginny just sort of grew up rather much under her own steam. She was sent to a French family and they weren’t much cop, I gather, and then she came back to England and somebody brought her out and she got in with a pretty vivid set and had a miserable love affair with a poor type of chap and felt life wasn’t as gay as it’s cracked up to be. And this affair busted up when they were staying with some of his chums at Cannes and Ginny lelt what was the good of anything anyway, and I must say I know what that’s like.”
“"She arrived at this philosophy in Cannes?”
“Yes. And she met Baradi and Oberon there. And I was there too, as it happened,” said Robin with a change of voice. “So we were both asked to come on here. About a fortnight ago.”
“I see. And then?”
“Well, it’s a dimmish sort of thing to talk about one’s hosts, but I don’t think it was a particularly good thing, her coming. I mean it’s all right for oneself.”
“Is it?”
“Well, I don’t know. Just to do once and — and perhaps not do again. Quite amusing, really,” said Robin miserably. “I mean, I’m not madly zealous about being a Child of the Sun. I just thought it might be fun. Of a sort. I mean, one knows one’s way about.”
“One would, I should think, need to.”
“Ginny doesn’t,” Robin said.
“No?”
“She thinks she does, poor sweet, but actually she hasn’t a clue when it comes to — well, to this sort of party, you know.”
“What sort of party?”
Robin pushed his glass back and shut the cupboard with a bang. “You saw, didn’t you, sir?”
“I believe Dr. Baradi is a very good surgeon. I only met the others for a few moments, you know.”
“Yes, but — well, you know Annabella Wells, don’t you? She said so.”
“We crossed the Atlantic in the same ship. There were some five hundred other passengers.”
“I’d have thought she’d have shown up if there’d been five million,” Robin said with feeling. Alleyn glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry, I’m not exactly pressing ahead with this,” Robin said.
“Don’t you think you’d better tell me what you want me to do?”
“It sounds so odd. Mrs. Alleyn will think it such cheek.”
“Troy? How can it concern her?”
“I — well, I was wondering if Mrs. Alleyn would ask Ginny to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Why tomorrow night, particularly?”
Robin muttered: “There’s going to be a sort of party up there. I’d rather Ginny was out of it.”
“Would she be rather out of it?”
“Hell!” Robin shouted. “She would if she were herself. My God, she would!”
“And what exactly,” Alleyn asked, “do you mean by that?”
Robin hit the wheel of his car with his clenched fist and said almost inaudibly: “He’s got hold of her. Oberon. She thinks he’s the bottom when she’s not — it’s just one of those bloody things.”
“Well,” Alleyn said, “we’d be delighted if Miss Taylor would dine with us but don’t you think she’ll find the invitation rather odd? After all, we’ve scarcely met her. She’ll probably refuse.”
“I’d thought of that,” Robin said eagerly. “I know. But I thought if I could get her to come for a run in the car, I’d suggest we called on Mrs. Alleyn. Ginny liked Mrs. Alleyn awfully. And you, sir, if I may say so. Ginny’s interested in art and all that and she was quite thrilled when she knew Mrs. Alleyn was Agatha Troy. So I thought if we might we could call about cocktail time and I’d say I’d got to go somewhere to see about something for the yacht or something and then I could ring up from somewhere and say I’d broken down.”
“She would then take a taxi back to the Chèvre d’Argent.”
Robin gulped. “Yes, I know,” he said. “But’well, I thought perhaps by that time Mrs. Allen might have sort of talked to her and got her to see. Sort of.”
“But why doesn’t Miss Locke talk to her? Surely, as her aunt — What’s the matter?”
Robin had made a violent ejaculation. He mumbled incoherently: “Not that sort. I’ve told you. They didn’t care about Ginny.”