‘Very good, Jeeves,’ I said. ‘Carry on.’
The butler showed me to my room, situated right at the furthest end of the corridor. No number on the door; just a stylized portrait of a red rose. Jeeves unlocked the door for me, handed me the key, and then led me into the room.
‘This is the Rose Room, sir. So called because of the roses on the wallpaper. All the rooms have their own flower motif. Bluebell, Tulip, Foxglove. And so on.’
I looked around, doing my best to look as though I wasn’t sure whether I was going to accept the room or not. You have to demonstrate your independence to butlers or they’ll walk all over you. The room was big enough to be airy, but still pleasantly cosy. Nicely aged furnishings and fittings, some modernish prints on the walls. All of it easy enough on the eye. A large four-poster bed took up most of the space, with a mattress big enough for some serious fun and games. I wanted to jump on to it and bounce up and down, just to see the look on the butler’s face, but I had my dignity to think of. My suitcase sat on the bed, open and empty. I looked at Jeeves.
‘I have taken the liberty of unpacking for you, sir. Everything has been put away in its proper place.’
‘Good thing I didn’t have time to pack any of my usual surprises,’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.’
‘A gentleman’s gentleman is never embarrassed, sir,’ said Jeeves. ‘Only, sometimes, terribly disappointed.’
He showed me the door to the adjoining bathroom, and then made a point of indicating the open fire crackling cheerfully in the recessed fireplace.
‘There is no central heating in Belcourt Manor, sir. Apparently Mister Belcourt’s predecessors believed such things made you soft. When Mister Belcourt informed me you were on your way, I prepared a fire in here, to take the chill off your room. But I am afraid you will have to keep the fire going yourself. Top it up, when necessary. No staff, you see. They’re all at home, with their families.’
‘But not you and the cook,’ I said.
Jeeves smiled, briefly. ‘Mister Belcourt does pay exceedingly good wages, sir. And we both do love our work.’
‘Ah,’ I said. ‘But what exactly is your work, Jeeves?’
‘I am here to see that everything goes smoothly for Mister Belcourt’s Christmas gathering, sir. Now; I have filled the coal scuttle and laid in a supply of freshly-cut wood, to keep the fire going. There should be more than enough to see you through the night and well into the morning, but do feel free to help yourself to more from the coal bunker, which you will find outside the house, round the back. I’d make what you have last, if I were you, sir.’
‘I’m sure this will do fine,’ I said.
‘I could arrange for a hot water bottle, if you feel the cold …’
‘I don’t,’ I said. ‘Tell me … You met the Colonel. What did you think of him?’
‘A very impressive gentleman, sir. Very sharp. Very interested in everyone and everything. Just like you, sir.’
‘The Colonel invited me to come down here,’ I said carefully, ‘because he believed there was danger here. Some kind of threat … He didn’t say what kind.’
Jeeves considered that thoughtfully. ‘Danger to himself, or to everyone here?’
‘He didn’t say. And now, I can’t ask him.’
Jeeves stood in thought for a long moment, his dark face impassive, his eyes far away. ‘I will take this under advisement, sir. Now, unless you need me for anything else, I have to speak with Cook about dinner. I would advise you to keep your door locked, for as long as you stay in this house.’
‘I always do,’ I said.
Jeeves nodded and left the Rose Room, his back straight and his head erect. For a butler, he moved very much like a military man. I hefted the heavy old metal key he’d given me. It felt strong and solid. I hoped the lock was, too. Certainly the key made a satisfyingly loud sound as I turned it in the lock.
It didn’t take me long to find my belongings, scattered through various levels of the massive chest of drawers. My things looked very small, and out of place, in such luxurious surroundings. Everything was neatly folded and arranged. Better than I usually managed. Of course, if I’d known a butler would be putting my things away, I’d have packed my good stuff. Though it had to be said: good was a relative term. I can’t afford to wear clothes that would make me stand out.
My few toilet things had been neatly arranged on a handy side table, ready for use. They all looked very poor relation, set against the faded opulence of the Rose Room. I peered into the adjoining bathroom. It all appeared functional enough, if very last century. The bath looked big enough to swim laps in.
I sat down on the end of the four poster bed, my feet swinging freely without touching the floor. I looked up at the ceiling, with its plaster decorations and single shaded electric light, and thought about the two empty floors of rooms above me. There’s always something spooky about empty rooms that no one lives in any more. Packed full of dust and shadows and abandoned memories. Just ghosts of rooms, really. I did wonder whether I should go up and check them out for myself, just in case the Colonel had managed to avoid Jeeves and was hiding out in one of them. Could the danger here really be so great that he felt the need to hide away from everyone, in the dark and the quiet? It didn’t seem likely. I’d never known the Colonel to be afraid of anything. There was the small problem of all the upstairs doors being locked, but he and I knew ways around that. And after all … I only had Jeeves’ word for it that he’d checked all the rooms. I had no reason to trust him.
Or any of the people down in the drawing room. I was here for the Colonel. No one else.
I shrugged angrily. I didn’t want any of this. The people, the place, the situation. I hated not knowing what was going on, or what I was here for. The Colonel should have made contact with me the moment I arrived, if things really were as desperate as he implied. Since he hadn’t, I had to assume it was because he couldn’t. That he was in some way being prevented, perhaps even held captive. And the person responsible for that … would have to be very strong and very experienced. The Colonel might be in his forties now, but he was still a first-class field agent in his own right, when the situation demanded. I’d seen him in action. He was fast and he was sneaky, and I would have bet on him against pretty much anyone I knew.
Since the Colonel wasn’t here to tell me what to do, I’d just have to work it out for myself. Question all the guests, and mine hosts, and see what they had to say for themselves. They weren’t exactly short on secrets and their own precious little intrigues. They all had connections that they didn’t want the others to know about. Alex Khan and Melanie Belcourt, for example. They both wanted Walter to retire from running his company, apparently for their own separate reasons … but did their relationship go deeper than that?
And I really wasn’t happy that two of the people in this small gathering had known me before, in different parts of my past. Khan at Black Heir, in the eighties. And Diana in Paris, in ’sixty-nine. It could be a coincidence. Stranger things have happened, in my life. Or, it could all have been carefully arranged, to lure me into a trap. There are always people looking for me. Wanting to get their hands on me …
I sat on the end of the bed, swinging my feet idly, sinking comfortably into the deep deep mattress. Listening to the wind howl and the locked shutters rattle outside my window. There was something very comforting about being safe and warm and cosy inside, while bad weather prowled around outside, unable to get at me. I stared into the leaping flames of the banked fire at the other end of the room, listened to them crackle … The air was deliciously warm, and the bed was almost indecently comfortable. I wanted so very much to be able to just lie down and rest, to stretch out and relax, let the aches of the day’s hard driving just slip away … but I didn’t dare. I was too tired. I had to stay awake and alert until I figured out where the Colonel was and what the hell was really going on here at Belcourt Manor.