THE INCREDIBLE THEFT

One

As the butler handed round the soufflé, Lord Mayfield leaned confidentially¹ towards his neighbouron the right, Lady Julia Carrington. Known as a perfect host, Lord Mayfield took trouble to live upto his reputation. Although unmarried, he was always charming to women.

Lady Julia Carrington was a woman of forty, tall, dark and vivacious². She was very thin, butstill beautiful. Her hands and feet in particular were exquisite³. Her manner was abrupt⁴ and restless,that of a woman who lived on her nerves.

About opposite to her at the round table sat her husband, Air Marshal Sir George Carrington.

His career had begun in the Navy, and he still retained the bluff⁵ breeziness of the ex-Naval man.

He was laughing and chaffing the beautiful Mrs.?Vanderlyn, who was sitting on the other side ofher host.

Mrs.?Vanderlyn was an extremely good-looking blonde. Her voice held a soup?on ofAmerican accent, just enough to be pleasant without undue⁶ exaggeration.

On the other side of Sir George Carrington sat Mrs.?Macatta, M.P. Mrs.?Macatta was a greatauthority on Housing and Infant Welfare. She barked out short sentences rather than spoke⁷ them,and was generally of somewhat alarming aspect. It was perhaps natural that the Air Marshal wouldfind his right-hand neighbour the pleasanter to talk to.

Mrs.?Macatta, who always talked shop wherever she was, barked out short spates⁸ ofinformation on her special subjects to her left-hand neighbour, young Reggie Carrington.

Reggie Carrington was twenty-one, and completely uninterested in Housing, Infant Welfare,and indeed any political subject. He said at intervals⁹, “How frightful¹⁰!” and “I absolutely agreewith you,” and his mind was clearly elsewhere. Mr.?Carlile, Lord Mayfield’s private secretary, satbetween young Reggie and his mother. A pale young man with pince-nez and an air of intelligentreserve, he talked little, but was always ready to fling himself into any conversational¹¹ breach¹².

Noticing that Reggie Carrington was struggling with a yawn, he leaned forward and adroitly¹³ askedMrs.?Macatta a question about her “Fitness for Children” scheme.

Round the table, moving silently in the subdued¹⁴ amber¹⁵ light, a butler and two footmenoffered dishes and filled up wine glasses. Lord Mayfield paid a very high salary to his chef, andwas noted¹⁶ as a connoisseur¹⁷ of wines.

The table was a round one, but there was no mistaking who was the host. Where LordMayfield sat was so very decidedly the head of the table. A big man, square-shouldered, with thicksilvery hair, a big straight nose and a slightly prominent chin. It was a face that lent itself easily tocaricature. As Sir Charles McLaughlin, Lord Mayfield had combined a political career with beingthe head of a big engineering firm. He was himself a first-class engineer. His peerage had come ayear ago, and at the same time he had been created first Minister of Armaments, a new ministrywhich had only just come into being.

The dessert had been placed on the table. The port had circulated once. CatchingMrs.?Vanderlyn’s eye, Lady Julia rose. The three women left the room.

The port passed once more, and Lord Mayfield referred lightly to pheasants. Theconversation for five minutes or so was sporting. Then Sir George said:

“Expect you’d like to join the others in the drawing room, Reggie, my boy. Lord Mayfieldwon’t mind.”

The boy took the hint easily enough.

“Thanks, Lord Mayfield, I think I will.”

Mr.?Carlile mumured:

“If you’ll excuse me, Lord Mayfield—certain memoranda¹⁸ and other work to get through. . . .”

Lord Mayfield nodded. The two young men left the room. The servants had retired¹⁹ some timebefore. The Minister for Armaments and the head of the Air Force were alone.

After a minute or two, Carrington said:

“Well—O.K.?”

“Absolutely! There’s nothing to touch this new bomber²⁰ in any country in Europe.”

“Make rings round ’em, eh? That’s what I thought.”

“Supremacy of the air,” said Lord Mayfield decisively.

Sir George Carrington gave a deep sigh.

“About time! You know, Charles, we’ve been through a ticklish²¹ spell. Lots of gunpowdereverywhere all over Europe. And we weren’t ready, damn it! We’ve had a narrow squeak²². Andwe’re not out of the wood yet, however much we hurry on construction.”

Lord Mayfield murmured:

“Nevertheless, George, there are some advantages in starting late. A lot of the European stuffis out of date already—and they’re perilously²³ near bankruptcy²⁴.”

“I don’t believe that means anything,” said Sir George gloomily. “One’s always hearing thisnation and that is bankrupt! But they carry on just the same. You know, finance is an absolutemystery to me.”

Lord Mayfield’s eyes twinkled a little. Sir George Carrington was always so very much theold-fashioned “bluff, honest old sea dog.” There were people who said that it was a pose hedeliberately adopted.

Changing the subject, Carrington said in a slightly overcasual manner:

“Attractive woman, Mrs.?Vanderlyn—eh?”

Lord Mayfield said:

“Are you wondering what she’s doing here?”

His eyes were amused.

Carrington looked a little confused.

“Not at all—not at all.”

“Oh, yes, you were! Don’t be an old humbug²⁵, George. You were wondering, in a slightlydismayed fashion, whether I was the latest victim!”

Carrington said slowly:

“I’ll admit that it did seem a trifle odd to me that she should be here—well, this particularweekend.”

Lord Mayfield nodded.

“Where the carcass is, there are the vultures gathered together. We’ve got a very definitecarcass, and Mrs.?Vanderlyn might be described as Vulture No. 1.”

The Air Marshal said abruptly²⁶:

“Know anything about this Vanderlyn woman?”

Lord Mayfield clipped off the end of a cigar, lit it with precision and, throwing his head back,dropped out his words with careful deliberation.

“What do I know about Mrs.?Vanderlyn? I know that she’s an American subject. I know thatshe’s had three husbands, one Italian, one German and one Russian, and that in consequence shehas made useful what I think are called ‘contacts’ in three countries. I know that she manages tobuy very expensive clothes and live in a very luxurious²⁷ manner, and that there is some slightuncertainty as to where the income comes from which permits her to do so.”

With a grin, Sir George Carrington murmured:

“Your spies have not been inactive, Charles, I see.”

“I know,” Lord Mayfield continued, “that in addition to having a seductive type of beauty,Mrs.?Vanderlyn is also a very good listener, and that she can display a fascinating interest in whatwe call ‘shop.’ That is to say, a man can tell her all about his job and feel that he is being intenselyinteresting to the lady! Sundry²⁸ young officers have gone a little too far in their zeal²⁹ to beinteresting, and their careers have suffered in consequence. They have told Mrs.?Vanderlyn a littlemore than they should have done. Nearly all the lady’s friends are in the Services—but last wintershe was hunting in a certain county near one of our largest armament firms, and she formedvarious friendships not at all sporting in character. To put it briefly³⁰, Mrs.?Vanderlyn is a veryuseful person to . . .” He described a circle in the air with his cigar. “Perhaps we had better not sayto whom! We will just say to a European power—and perhaps to more than one European power.”

Carrington drew a deep breath.

“You take a great load off my mind, Charles.”

“You thought I had fallen for the siren? My dear George! Mrs.?Vanderlyn is just a little tooobvious in her methods for a wary³¹ old bird like me. Besides, she is, as they say, not quite so youngas she once was. Your young squadron leaders wouldn’t notice that. But I am fifty-six, my boy. Inanother four years I shall probably be a nasty old man continually haunting the society ofunwilling debutantes³².”

“I was a fool,” said Carrington apologetically, “but it seemed a bit odd—”

“It seemed to you odd that she should be here, in a somewhat intimate family party just at themoment when you and I were to hold an unofficial conference over a discovery that will probablyrevolutionize the whole problem of air defence?”

Sir George Carrington nodded.

Lord Mayfield said, smiling:

“That’s exactly it. That’s the bait.”

“The bait?”

“You see, George, to use the language of the movies, we’ve nothing actually ‘on’ the woman.

And we want something! She’s got away with rather more than she should in the past. But she’sbeen careful—damnably careful. We know what she’s been up to, but we’ve got no definite proofof it. We’ve got to tempt³³ her with something big.”

“Something big being the specification³⁴ of the new bomber?”

“Exactly. It’s got to be something big enough to induce her to take a risk—to come out intothe open. And then—we’ve got her!”

Sir George grunted³⁵.

“Oh, well,” he said. “I dare say it’s all right. But suppose she won’t take the risk?”

“That would be a pity,” said Lord Mayfield. Then he added: “But I think she will. . . .”

He rose.

“Shall we join the ladies in the drawing room? We mustn’t deprive your wife of her bridge.”

Sir George grunted:

“Julia’s a damned sight too fond of her bridge. Drops a packet over it. She can’t afford to playas high as she does, and I’ve told her so. The trouble is, Julia’s a born gambler.”

Coming round the table to join his host, he said:

“Well, I hope your plan comes off, Charles.”

 

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