Two

In the drawing room conversation had flagged more than once. Mrs.?Vanderlyn was usually at adisadvantage when left alone with members of her own sex. That charming sympathetic manner ofhers, so much appreciated by members of the male sex, did not for some reason or other commenditself to women. Lady Julia was a woman whose manners were either very good or very bad. Onthis occasion she disliked Mrs.?Vanderlyn, and was bored by Mrs.?Macatta, and made no secret ofher feelings. Conversation languished¹, and might have ceased altogether but for the latter.

Mrs.?Macatta was a woman of great earnestness of purpose. Mrs.?Vanderlyn she dismissedimmediately as a useless and parasitic² type. Lady Julia she tried to interest in a forthcomingcharity entertainment which she was organizing. Lady Julia answered vaguely³, stifled⁴ a yawn ortwo and retired⁵ into her own inner preoccupation. Why didn’t Charles and George come? Howtiresome men were. Her comments became even more perfunctory as she became absorbed in herown thoughts and worries.

The three women were sitting in silence when the men finally entered the room.

Lord Mayfield thought to himself:

“Julia looks ill tonight. What a mass of nerves the woman is.”

Aloud he said:

“What about a rubber—eh?”

Lady Julia brightened at once. Bridge was as the breath of life to her.

Reggie Carrington entered the room at that minute, and a four was arranged. Lady Julia,Mrs.?Vanderlyn, Sir George and young Reggie sat down to the card-table. Lord Mayfield devotedhimself to the task of entertaining Mrs.?Macatta.

When two rubbers had been played, Sir George looked ostentatiously at the clock on themantelpiece.

“Hardly worth while beginning another,” he remarked.

His wife looked annoyed.

“It’s only a quarter to eleven. A short one.”

“They never are, my dear,” said Sir George good-temperedly. “Anyway, Charles and I havesome work to do.”

Mrs.?Vanderlyn murmured:

“How important that sounds! I suppose you clever men who are at the top of things never geta real rest.”

“No forty-eight hour week for us,” said Sir George.

Mrs.?Vanderlyn murmured:

“You know, I feel rather ashamed of myself as a raw American, but I do get so thrilled atmeeting people who control the destinies of a country. I expect that seems a very crude point ofview to you, Sir George.”

“My dear Mrs.?Vanderlyn, I should never think of you as ‘crude’ or ‘raw.’ ”

He smiled into her eyes. There was, perhaps, a hint of irony⁶ in the voice which she did notmiss. Adroitly⁷ she turned to Reggie, smiling sweetly into his eyes.

“I’m sorry we’re not continuing our partnership⁸. That was a frightfully clever four no-trumpcall of yours.”

Flushed and pleased, Reggie mumbled⁹:

“Bit of a fluke that it came off.”

“Oh, no, it was really a clever bit of deduction¹⁰ on your part. You’d deduced from the biddingexactly where the cards must be, and you played accordingly. I thought it was brilliant.”

Lady Julia rose abruptly¹¹.

“The woman lays it on with a palette knife,” she thought disgustedly.

Then her eyes softened¹² as they rested on her son. He believed it all. How pathetically youngand pleased he looked. How incredibly na?ve he was. No wonder he got into scrapes. He was tootrusting. The truth of it was he had too sweet a nature. George didn’t understand him in the least.

Men were so unsympathetic in their judgments¹³. They forgot that they had ever been youngthemselves. George was much too harsh with Reggie.

Mrs.?Macatta had risen. Goodnights were said.

The three women went out of the room. Lord Mayfield helped himself to a drink after givingone to Sir George, then he looked up as Mr.?Carlile appeared at the door.

“Get out the files and all the papers, will you, Carlile? Including the plans and the prints. TheAir Marshal and I will be along shortly. We’ll just take a turn outside first, eh, George? It’sstopped raining.”

Mr.?Carlile, turning to depart, murmured an apology as he almost collided withMrs.?Vanderlyn.

She drifted towards them, murmuring:

“My book, I was reading it before dinner.”

Reggie sprang forward and held up a book.

“Is this it? On the sofa?”

“Oh, yes. Thank you so much.”

She smiled sweetly, said goodnight again and went out of the room.

Sir George had opened one of the french windows.

“Beautiful night now,” he announced. “Good idea of yours to take a turn.”

Reggie said:

“Well, goodnight, sir. I’ll be toddling¹⁴ off to bed.”

“Goodnight, my boy,” said Lord Mayfield.

Reggie picked up a detective story which he had begun earlier in the evening and left theroom.

Lord Mayfield and Sir George stepped out upon the terrace.

It was a beautiful night, with a clear sky studded with stars.

Sir George drew a deep breath.

“Phew, that woman uses a lot of scent¹⁵,” he remarked.

Lord Mayfield laughed.

“Anyway, it’s not cheap scent. One of the most expensive brands on the market, I shouldsay.”

Sir George gave a grimace¹⁶.

“I suppose one should be thankful for that.”

“You should, indeed. I think a woman smothered¹⁷ in cheap scent is one of the greatestabominations known to mankind.”

Sir George glanced up at the sky.

“Extraordinary the way it’s cleared. I heard the rain beating down when we were at dinner.”

The two men strolled gently along the terrace.

The terrace ran the whole length of the house. Below it the ground sloped gently away,permitting a magnificent view over the Sussex weald.

Sir George lit a cigar.

“About this metal alloy—” he began.

The talk became technical.

As they approached the far end of the terrace for the fifth time, Lord Mayfield said with asigh:

“Oh, well, I suppose we’d better get down to it.”

“Yes, good bit of work to get through.”

The two men turned, and Lord Mayfield uttered a surprised ejaculation.

“Hallo! See that?”

“See what?” asked Sir George.

“Thought I saw someone slip across the terrace from my study window.”

“Nonsense, old boy. I didn’t see anything.”

“Well, I did—or I thought I did.”

“Your eyes are playing tricks on you. I was looking straight down the terrace, and I’d haveseen anything there was to be seen. There’s precious little I don’t see—even if I do have to hold anewspaper at arm’s length.”

Lord Mayfield chuckled¹⁸.

“I can put one over on you there, George. I read easily without glasses.”

“But you can’t always distinguish the fellow on the other side of the House. Or is thateyeglass of yours sheer intimidation¹⁹?”

Laughing, the two men entered Lord Mayfield’s study, the french window of which wasopen.

Mr.?Carlile was busy arranging some papers in a file by the safe.

He looked up as they entered.

“Ha, Carlile, everything ready?”

“Yes, Lord Mayfield, all the papers are on your desk.”

The desk in question was a big important-looking writing table of mahogany set across acorner by the window. Lord Mayfield went over to it, and began sorting through the variousdocuments laid out.

“Lovely night now,” said Sir George.

Mr.?Carlile agreed.

“Yes, indeed. Remarkable²⁰ the way it’s cleared up after the rain.”

Putting away his file, Mr.?Carlile asked:

“Will you want me any more tonight, Lord Mayfield?”

“No, I don’t think so, Carlile. I’ll put all these away myself. We shall probably be late. You’dbetter turn in.”

“Thank you. Goodnight, Lord Mayfield. Goodnight, Sir George.”

“Goodnight, Carlile.”

As the secretary was about to leave the room, Lord Mayfield said sharply:

“Just a minute, Carlile. You’ve forgotten the most important of the lot.”

“I beg your pardon, Lord Mayfield.”

“The actual plans of the bomber²¹, man.”

The secretary stared.

“They’re right on the top, sir.”

“They’re nothing of the sort.”

“But I’ve just put them there.”

“Look for yourself, man.”

With a bewildered expression, the young man came forward and joined Lord Mayfield at thedesk.

Somewhat impatiently the Minister indicated the pile of papers. Carlile sorted through them,his expression of bewilderment growing.

“You see, they’re not there.”

The secretary stammered²²:

“But—but it’s incredible. I laid them there not three minutes?ago.”

Lord Mayfield said good-humouredly:

“You must have made a mistake, they must be still in the safe.”

“I don’t see how—I know I put them there!”

Lord Mayfield brushed past him to the open safe. Sir George joined them. A very fewminutes sufficed to show that the plans of the bomber were not there.

Dazed and unbelieving, the three men returned to the desk and once more turned over thepapers.

“My God!” said Mayfield. “They’re gone!”

Mr.?Carlile cried:

“But it’s impossible!”

“Who’s been in this room?” snapped out the Minister.

“No one. No one at all.”

“Look here, Carlile, those plans haven’t vanished into thin air. Someone has taken them. HasMrs.?Vanderlyn been in here?”

“Mrs.?Vanderlyn? Oh, no, sir.”

“I’ll back that,” said Carrington. He sniffed²³ the air! “You’d soon smell if she had. That scentof hers.”

“Nobody has been in here,” insisted Carlile. “I can’t understand it.”

“Look here, Carlile,” said Lord Mayfield. “Pull yourself together. We’ve got to get to thebottom of this. You’re absolutely sure the plans were in the safe?”

“Absolutely.”

“You actually saw them? You didn’t just assume they were among the others?”

“No, no, Lord Mayfield. I saw them. I put them on top of the others on the desk.”

“And since then, you say, nobody has been in the room. Have you been out of the room?”

“No—at least—yes.”

“Ah!” cried Sir George. “Now we’re getting at it!”

Lord Mayfield said sharply:

“What on earth—” when Carlile interrupted.

“In the normal course of events, Lord Mayfield, I should not, of course, have dreamt ofleaving the room. when important papers were lying about, but hearing a woman scream—”

“A woman scream?” ejaculated Lord Mayfield in a surprised voice.

“Yes, Lord Mayfield. It startled me more than I can say. I was just laying the papers on thedesk when I heard it, and naturally I ran out into the hall.”

“Who screamed?”

“Mrs.?Vanderlyn’s French maid. She was standing²⁴ halfway²⁵ up the stairs, looking very whiteand upset and shaking all over. She said she had seen a ghost.”

“Seen a ghost?”

“Yes, a tall woman dressed all in white who moved without a sound and floated in the air.”

“What a ridiculous story!”

“Yes, Lord Mayfield, that is what I told her. I must say she seemed rather ashamed of herself.

She went off upstairs and I came back in here.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Just a minute or two before you and Sir George came in.”

“And you were out of the room—how long?”

The secretary considered.

“Two minutes—at the most three.”

“Long enough,” groaned²⁶ Lord Mayfield. Suddenly he clutched his friend’s arm.

“George, that shadow I saw—slinking away from this window. That was it! As soon asCarlile left the room, he nipped in, seized the plans and made off.”

“Dirty work,” said Sir George.

Then he seized his friend by the arm.

“Look here, Charles, this is the devil of a business. What the hell are we going to do aboutit?”

 

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