The House Of The Bears (12 page)

‘Two Kyles.’

‘Yes. And Snub’s gone hurrying after,’ said Palfrey. ‘Sorry,’ he added. ‘I’m not quite myself.’ He looked after Drusilla, now nearly out of sight, and added: ‘I suppose it was wise to let her go alone.’

The woman turned neither right nor left until she reached the end of the road, where she hurried to a telephone kiosk. The door closed slowly behind her. Drusilla could hear her voice, but not the words. She seemed to be shouting at the operator. Then she opened the bag again, looked through her purse, dropped it and cried so that Drusilla could hear: ‘I haven’t got anything smaller than a two-shilling piece. I
must
get through!’

Something was said. She shouted again, and then pushed open the door with her foot. Drusilla, taking risks, was nearest her. ‘Here,
can
you give me change for two shillings, please? I’ve got an urgent call!’ It was a coarse voice, loud and agitated.

Drusilla had a shilling and some sixpences. The woman grabbed them and dropped the two-shilling piece she was holding out in exchange. She gasped, turned back and said: ‘I’ve got it! I’ve got it!’ A pause. ‘Yes, Mayfair 01341.
Yes!’

‘Mayfair 01341,’ repeated Drusilla to herself. The woman took her foot away and the door closed. Drusilla repeated the number over and over again as she watched the woman, who tapped her foot against the glass door, sighed with exasperation, and then suddenly stiffened. Her voice sounded clearly:
‘He
can’t be out!’

She argued volubly, but did not get her call. At last she came out of the kiosk, and Drusilla slipped in after her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Palfrey on one side of the street and McDonald on the other; McDonald was nearer the woman, who walked on a short distance to a waiting bus. She walked up and down in front of the bus, which was marked ‘Bristol’, then seemed to make a sudden decision and climbed in.

McDonald sauntered over and followed her.

Drusilla left the kiosk and joined Palfrey. He was standing behind a doorway, and could not be seen from the bus.

‘She isn’t likely to notice anything, but we’d better not take chances,’ Palfrey said. ‘Any luck, darling?’

‘Mayfair 01341, but no reply,’ said Drusilla.

‘Good work!’

‘Not exactly good,’ said Drusilla. ‘She’s demented, Sap. What happened?’

Palfrey told her as they strolled back up the road towards the cottages. Then he espied a number of people sitting at little tables, as if at tea, high on the bank above them. A flight of wooden steps led up there, with a sign inviting custom.

‘We can watch the road without being seen up there,’ Palfrey said. ‘Can you manage more tea?’

‘I’ll swim in it to help,’ said Drusilla.

There were few people in the tea-room, which had a corrugated iron roof and rows of garden tables and chairs. The Palfreys sat opposite each other near the road, and had to get very close to the edge in order to see everyone there.

Keeping an eye on the road, Palfrey told Drusilla all that had happened.

‘Which one
was
Kyle?’ she asked, fascinated.

‘I can’t say,’ admitted Palfrey. ‘I saw them together for a few seconds, and they weren’t quite so much alike then. I fancy the car-driver was the real Kyle; the other fellow was a little stiff in his movements even when they were bundling the foreigner into the car. That’s two,’ he added.

‘Two what?’

‘Captives of Kyle,’ answered Palfrey. ‘First Fyson and then this customer. I wonder where Kyle keeps them.’

‘Hardy would say that you take that much too lightly,’ Drusilla remarked.

‘Yes, wouldn’t he! The point is that Fyson was
not
a nice man, and I didn’t like the look of the sallow customer. Did you?’

‘Not a bit,’ admitted Drusilla.

‘So my sympathies are still with Kyle,’ said Palfrey, ‘but I hope we see him before long. By to-morrow we shall have to tell Hardy the whole story. No evasions this time. At least he can’t blame us for what happened.’

‘I’m all for telling him,’ said Drusilla, ‘but why must you?’

‘Our Snub. A Corshire man, I feel pretty sure, and when he jumped on to the small car he yelled
“Police,”
so Hardy proved he is a dark horse by having us watched in London. There are a lot of things I’m prepared to take,’ went on Palfrey, ‘but being suspected by the police isn’t one of them. Hallo, there’s Snub!’

Snub was getting out of a car further up the gorge. The Palfreys watched him as he walked past the caves, past them and then towards the telephone kiosk near the bus terminus. He was there for some time. ‘Making his report to Hardy, I suppose,’ murmured Palfrey.

It was now after half-past four and Palfrey began to despair of seeing Kyle again that day. It was a most unsatisfactory situation. The only result of their exertions was the Mayfair telephone number and the possibility that McDonald had found where the fair-haired woman lived. McDonald, however, being unpractised in such affairs, might easily lose her.

‘We’d better take a walk,’ said Palfrey. ‘I don’t want to leave until after dark.’

They paid their bill and went down the flight of steps. As they reached the road they heard a car coming from the top end of the gorge. Palfrey glanced towards it, conscious of the grandeur of the gorge itself. The tops were now covered in mist, and he shivered slightly; he no longer liked mist. Then his eyes brightened, and he exclaimed: ‘There’s the Packard!’

‘It’s travelling fast,’ said Drusilla.

‘Surely it’s not being chased!’

The car came hurtling towards them. The road was almost clear, now, and a few people pressed against the sides as the car flashed by. Twenty yards from the green cottage it began to slow down. Then the driver jammed on the brakes. It was a woman. She was dark, sleek and had a humorous mouth. A Tyrolean hat sat jauntily on her dark hair which hung down to her shoulders in a glossy page-boy bob.

Kyle, or a man who looked like Kyle, was by her side.

He opened the door while the car was still moving, jumped out, blew a kiss, and the car moved off again. It disappeared at speed.

Kyle stood looking about him. Perhaps because the Palfreys were so near, he did not see them at once. He was not the man whom they had seen in the garden of the cottage. He was younger and rather taller, and his face was broader, though it, too, looked rather like a nut-cracker, and was berry-brown.

His grey eyes were narrowed until he saw them. Then he beamed.

‘Well, well! If it isn’t Dr. Palfrey!’ He strode across the road. ‘I’m glad you made it, Palfrey, I was afraid you would be too shocked to stay around.’ He looked at Drusilla and grinned. ‘Chloroform certainly didn’t suit you, Mrs. Palfrey. You look much better without a red nose.’

Drusilla laughed.

‘But I mean it,’ said Kyle. ‘Are you two hungry?’

‘We’ve drunk enough tea to float a battleship,’ said Palfrey.

‘That’s too bad. I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and then it wasn’t much of a breakfast. Will you object to watching me eat?’ He did not wait for an answer, but took an arm of each and went into the cottage.

The woman came in, took Kyle’s order and pressed the Palfreys to have a cup of tea with him. Drusilla wavered. ‘Sure, bring some tea,’ said Kyle. He turned his silvery grey eyes on Drusilla and went on: ‘I thought the English could always take a bowl of tea.’

They were alone in the room now, and Palfrey decided that it was time Kyle stopped fooling.

‘The English are a patient race,’ he said, ‘but there are limits to their patience. Were you here at half past two?’

‘No. That was a friend of mine. Not bad make-up, was it?’

‘Not bad,’ admitted Palfrey.

Kyle said: ‘Let me get it off my chest, Palfrey. When I sent for you I didn’t expect to have any trouble today. Then I learned that I was known to be staying down here. The Frenchie was on my tail. I didn’t want to make trouble for you. I persuaded my friend to take my place. I told him to give you the ice if you arrived – and I had an idea you would arrive,’ went on Kyle, with a chuckle. ‘Then Susie and I looked after Frenchie.’

‘Very clear,’ murmured Palfrey.

‘I’ll make it clear soon. The woman might be in any moment. They give you service here.’ Almost on his words she came in with a huge plateful. When she had gone, Drusilla poured out the tea.

‘Well?’ said Palfrey snappishly.

‘I know, you’re curious. All right,’ said Kyle. ‘Susie and I and one or two friends have been chasing Fyson’s bunch for a long while. A
very
long while. We don’t know them all. We know Fyson and Frenchie and Rose – that’s Frenchie’s girl. And that reminds me,’ went on Kyle, ‘what happened to Rose?’

‘She went to Bristol,’ said Palfrey. ‘At least, she got on the Bristol bus.’

‘Did
she then! That’s a new one. I’ve only known her in London. Maybe she’s in a show there.’

‘A show?’ asked Drusilla.

‘Sure, she’s a Footlight Fanny,’ said Kyle. ‘Chorus. Getting sinewy in the leg, too; they’ll soon put her in the back row. But she can dance. I’m sorry for her, but she should pick her company better than she does. If Frenchie felt that way, he would break her neck and leave her cold and be necking someone else the same night. I’ve known Frenchie longer than I’ve known any of them,’ said Kyle, and his eyes glittered. ‘It’s no secret that I don’t like that guy.’

‘Well, he’s probably got the stomach-ache now,’ said Palfrey. ‘Where is he?’

Kyle grinned. ‘He’s gone to bye-byes!’ He raised an eyebrow when he saw Drusilla’s expression. ‘No, Mrs. Palfrey, I do not mean that he’s been killed. Susie and I don’t do that kind of thing except in emergency. Like the other night,’ he went on. ‘I would have killed Fyson if he’d given any more trouble, but that would have been in self-defence, wouldn’t it? Not to mention Mrs. Palfrey’s defence!’

Palfrey said: ‘What we owed you for the other night has been repaid, Kyle.’

Kyle’s expression changed. In a flash, he looked bleak, wary, and dangerous. He said: ‘What does that crack mean, Palfrey?’

Palfrey said: ‘I don’t like people who kidnap Frenchmen in Cheddar Gorge and spirit away people from the cliff-side – unless they’ve got a good reason. Unless I know the reason, too.’

‘I’m trying to tell you, aren’t I?’

‘You’re wondering how little will serve to satisfy me,’ said Palfrey. ‘A little won’t.’

Tell me something first. How much have you told the police?’

‘Everything, except the rendezvous here. As I was followed by the police, that didn’t make a great deal of difference,’ said Palfrey. ‘Snub, the broken-nosed man who followed you, had been following me. He’s probably still in Cheddar. I saw him telephoning a report to his Inspector after he came back.’

‘I get it,’ said Kyle, rubbing his tuft of hair. ‘All right, Palfrey, we know where we stand. That Fyson trick was to stop you getting to see Loretta Morne. Fyson won’t talk more than that, I’ve tried all I know to make him, but he won’t say anything else. But it was enough for a start. He didn’t want you to see Loretta. Why?’

Palfrey said: ‘Loretta had something to give me.’

‘What?’

Palfrey laughed. ‘Shall we leave that until later?’

Kyle looked at him speculatively. Then abruptly: ‘Was it a map, Palfrey?’

Drusilla’s expression gave it away.

‘So it was a map. I’ll give a lot for that map.’

‘The police have it,’ said Palfrey.

‘That’s too bad,’ drawled Kyle. ‘You made a mistake there. Was it the original map?’

‘It only showed up on the paper when it was heated.’

‘Then it was a copy,’ said Kyle, with some relief. ‘It wasn’t the original; maybe Fyson’s friends still have that. Palfrey, you want to know what I’m after. I can’t go any further than saying that I want that map. It’s important. It’s worth plenty. To get that map, Fyson and Frenchie and their friends have gone to a lot of trouble, and I’ve put myself out quite a bit.’ He learned forward and bared his right forearm. From just above the wrist almost to the elbow was a long, thin scar. ‘I got that in the process, Palfrey. A present from Frenchie. That’s how badly I want it.’

‘Why?’

‘For business reasons,’ said Kyle, emphasising the ‘business’.

‘That isn’t good enough,’ said Palfrey.

‘It will have to be,’ Kyle retorted.

‘Then I can’t help you.’ Palfrey was abrupt.

Kyle said: ‘Palfrey, I’m not my own master. I’ve written asking how much I can tell you. I haven’t got the answer yet. I can say this: that map is dynamite.’ He laughed, a sudden, unexpected sound. ‘It’s more than dynamite! And it’s dangerous to a lot of people, a lot of decent folk who live a good life and don’t know what’s coming to them one day if I don’t get that map
and
all the copies. Fyson’s friends have a copy of the map, but I don’t think they know the place it refers to. I know that if Fyson’s friends find the place there will be a lot of trouble for those decent folk.’

‘Very touching,’ murmured Palfrey.

Kyle snapped: ‘I’m serious.’

‘So am I. Who are Fyson’s friends?’

‘Tell me that and you’ll tell me plenty,’ said Kyle. He relaxed again. ‘I’ve been trying to find out for months. I know Fyson, Rose and Frenchie and two others. They aren’t big shots. They just do what they’re told. There are plenty of people like that, Palfrey. They’re controlled by a guy whose name I don’t know, but I do know they’re scared of him.
He’s
dynamite, too. Maybe it’s Morne. I wouldn’t know.’

The little tea-room was cold. Outside it was growing dark and rain began to spatter sharply against the window.

The woman came in. ‘Would you like anything else?’ she asked. Obviously she was anxious to close the café.

Kyle took out his wallet, put two pound notes on the table, looked up at her with a bright smile, and said: ‘Sure. A fire. And maybe supper, later on.’

She hesitated. ‘Well, sir –’

‘It needn’t be in this room,’ Kyle said.

‘There
is
a fire in the sitting-room, sir, upstairs.’

‘That’s fine,’ said Kyle.