The Unfinished Clue (5 page)

"It is true," agreed Lola affably. "I am very famous, not only in England, but everywhere."

"Dinner is served, my lady," said Finch, enacting Providence from the doorway.

The General wheeled round, and, still speechless, offered his arm to Mrs. Twining.

Behind them, in sedate couples, the rest of the guests walked in to dinner.

The dining-room lay at the end of the hall, and was on the opposite side of the front door to the study. It was a large, somewhat sombre apartment, with mahogany furniture and crimson hangings. A number of darklooking oil.paintings in very massive gilt frames hung on the walls, and to one of these, unfortunately placed in her direct line of vision, Lola took instant exception. It depicted, with faithful verisimilitude, a large assortment of garden produce, scattered most unsuitably round a brace of pheasants and a dead hare. Lola had hardly seated herself when she caught sight of this masterpiece, and she at once uttered an outraged cry and got up again. "Ah, but it is impossible that I should sit opposite to that picture, which I find entirely disgusting. There is a dead animal with blood on it, and I shall immediately faint if I must look at it."

"It's only a hare, darling," said Geoffrey, feeling that it was for him to smooth over this breach.

"But naturally I can see that it is a hare. I am not blind. And I must tell you that to see a hare is extremely unlucky. I am already quite upset, but I perceive that it is not possible to remove such a big picture. It will be better if I sit where I cannot look at it."

The General found his voice. "Upon my soul!" he burst out. "Do you imagine, young woman, that I am going to remove my pictures to please -"

Dinah sprang up. "All right," she said hurriedly. "Change places with me, Miss de Silva."

Lola walked composedly round the table and sat down between Francis and the Vicar. "So it arranges itself," she said.

The Vicar, who had turned round to study the offending picture in all its detail, addressed her with an interested and more kindly light in his eye. "You do not like things to be killed, Miss de Silva? I am sure we must all sympathise with you."

"I do not mind that they should be killed, but I do not at all like to see a picture of a dead hare with blood on its nose when I am to eat my dinner," replied Lola firmly.

Since the Vicar was a vegetarian and a pacifist this remark was not a happy one, and he drew back, disappointed and perturbed. His wife, always his champion, bucklering him against the world with a kind of fierce protectiveness, at once entered into the discussion and said across the table: "We do not all consider it folly to disapprove of bloodshed, I can assure you, Miss de Silva. A great many people today consider all bloodshed to be wrong."

"In my country," said Lola, applying herself to her soup, "we do not think that."

"Lola is a Mexican, you know," confided Geoffrey, seated next to Mrs. Chudleigh.

"A Mexican!" echoed Mrs. Chudleigh. "Oh, dear me! Of course that would account for it. Such a dreadful country! One feels that something ought to be done about it, but then they're all Roman Catholics, aren't they? And so Miss de Silva is a dancer, I think you said? On the stage, of course? Well, I always say it takes all sorts to make a world, and I hope I am sufficiently broad-minded… I see you have Mr. Guest staying with you again. He is quite a frequent visitor, is he not?"

Fay, overhearing this remark, coloured faintly, and lost the thread of the Vicar's painstaking conversation. Beyond him Lola was recounting the tale of her triumphs to Francis, while Camilla Halliday, seated on his left, sought doggedly to capture his attention. The General addressed himself solely to Mrs. Twining and Mrs. Chudleigh, but occasionally sent a smouldering look down the table towards Lola. Stephen Guest said nothing in particular; Geoffrey listened in adoring silence to what Lola was saying to his cousin, and Dinah pursued a futile conversation with Basil Halliday.

It was not a comfortable dinner-party, and at times it was in danger of becoming quite cataclysmic, as, for instance, when Lola produced a tiny Russian cigarette between the entree and the bird, and requested Francis to light it for her. The General looked daggers at his wife, and since she felt herself powerless to intervene, began to say in his most unpleasant voice: "Would you have the goodness to refrain -"

"A foreign custom, my dear- Arthur," interposed Mrs. Twining, and took her own case out of her bag. Under her host's astonished glare she drew out a cigarette, and placed it between her lips. "A match, please," she said calmly.

"What the devil's the matter with you, Julia?" demanded Sir Arthur. "Since when have you taken to that disgusting habit?"

She raised her brows. "You ought to know by now that I am eminently adaptable," she said. "Ah, thank you, Mr. Guest. So kind of you."

Mrs. Chudleigh gave a shrill laugh. "I must say I did not expect to see you smoking at table, Julia," she remarked. "We live and learn. I wonder what Hilary would have to say to me if I were suddenly to light a cigarette in the middle of dinner?"

"Oh, every one does it nowadays," Geoffrey assured her. "I do myself, you know."

"In this house," said his father, "you do nothing of the kind, let me tell you!"

"I'm sure it can't be good for you," Mrs. Chudleigh said earnestly. "I always say tobacco is the curse of the modern generation. It goes through all classes. You would hardly believe it possible, but I actually discovered a housemaid of mine smoking in her bedroom once. I had suspected that she did, and I managed to catch her red-handed!"

This recollection was received by Geoffrey in gloomy silence, but provoked Camilla, who was ruffled by her failure to lure Francis away from Lola, to say lightly: 'Poor wretch, why shouldn't she? Live and let live is my motto!"

"Indeed!" said Mrs. Chudleigh, her eyes snapping dangerously. "We all have our own ideas, of course. Personally I always consider myself directly responsible for the moral tone of any servant under my roof."

"Moral tone?" repeated Camilla. "It sounds as though they were going to have a baby, or something."

Mrs. Chudleigh turned quite scarlet and sat very straight in her chair. "Really, if you will excuse me, I think it is time we ceased this conversation, Mrs. - er - Halliday. No doubt I am old-fashioned, but there are some subjects I was brought up to consider unfit for dinner-table discussion."

As she enunciated this speech with great precision, it not unnaturally caught the ears of nearly everybody in the room. There was a moment's awkward silence. Lola's voice filled it. "And I must tell you that when I danced in Rio I had a success quite enormous, and a man shot himself outside my hotel, which was a compliment of the most distinguished, and also," she added practically, "very good publicity, in Rio."

"How very romantic!" said Fay, in a shattered voice. "Do have a salted almond, Mr. Chudleigh!"

The Vicar was regarding Lola in shocked amazement. "My dear Miss de Silva, you speak very calmly of this dreadful tragedy! It must surely have appalled you to know that this unfortunate man had committed the terrible sin of taking his own life for — one might almost say - your sake!"

"Yes, truly I was sorry for him," agreed Lola, "but I had my picture in all the papers, and one is forced to think of these things."

"Talking of newspapers," said Stephen Guest, coming staunchly to the rescue, "I saw a queer thing in one the other day…'

With one accord those at the bottom end of the table turned gratefully towards him, greeting his laboured reminiscence with extravagant enthusiasm.

"You see!" said the General to Mrs. Twining, in a furious undertone. "Insufferable! In my own house! The young whippersnapper having the damnable effrontery to bring the woman here. Not by my invitation, mark you! Well, I flatter myself it will be the last time my fine son makes a fool of himself under this roof! I've no doubt you'll have a great deal to say on his behalf. You're very fond of taking his part, aren't you? But I don't want to hear it! Do you understand? I don't want to hear it!"

"Perfectly," said Mrs. Twining. "I always did understand you, Arthur, and you have not changed in the least."

The General's already high colour darkened. He opened his mouth to retort, and became aware of Mrs. Chudleigh, avidly listening to his confidences. By a superhuman effort of will he changed what he was about to say into a rasping cough.

The long dinner seemed interminable, but it came to an end at last, and Fay rose, and the women went out in procession.

The worst must be over, thought Dinah, bringing up the rear. But all the same when they reached the drawing-room she walked over to one of the open windows, and drew back the curtains, saying: "It's a gorgeous night. Do come on to the terrace, Miss de Silva!"

"Dinah," said Mrs. Twining emphatically, as Lola followed Miss Fawcett out, "deserves a good husband and I hope she finds one."

"What a ghastly reward!" remarked Camilla, busily powdering her face. "I didn't know there were such things."

Mrs. Chudleigh, who had not forgiven her for her behaviour at dinner, said with a steely brightness; "That is a very cynical remark, and one that I am sure I hope you don't mean. I am proud to say that I have a husband who is more than good."

"You are fortunate, Emmy," said Mrs. Twining dryly. She moved towards the sofa, and sat down, disposing her long skirt with one practised hand. "Well, Fay, I am sorry for you, but you may console yourself with the reflection that Geoffrey is not, after all, your son. For once, I am almost sorry for Arthur. A most unnerving young woman."

"But it is dreadful!" exclaimed Mrs. Chudleigh, her eyes gleaming through her glasses. "To think of that poor boy in the clutches of such a woman! You must forgive me, Lady Billington-Smith, but I feel most strongly on the subject, and I do trust that some effort will be made to rescue him from such a disastrous entanglement! In my position as a clergyman's wife I do feel that I have some right to speak. And my husband and I have always been most fond of Geoffrey. I am sure we should both of us be quite distressed to think of him ruining his life like this."

"I don't think you need worry," said Mrs. Twining. "Long experience of Arthur induces me to think that he will place every conceivable obstacle in the way of the marriage."

"Well, I must say I hope he will manage to stop it," said Mrs. Chudleigh. "But one can't help feeling that it needs tact. I am sure Hilary would be only too glad to have a little talk with Geoffrey."

"It's very kind of you, but I think it would be much better to let it die a natural death," replied Fay with quiet dignity.

Mrs. Chudleigh gave a tight-lipped smile. "Ah, you are young, Lady Billington-Smith, and naturally optimistic. I am afraid I have lived too long in the world to share your optimism. From what I can see of that woman she exercises a Fatal Fascination for men. Of course, if you admire that bold kind of good looks, I suppose you might call her pretty. Personally, I never trust people with brown eyes, and I should not be at all surprised to hear that she was no better than she should be. And you heard for yourself what she had to say. Really, I was never more shocked in my life! About that unfortunate man who committed suicide."

"I hope you are not suggesting, Emmy, that Geoffrey is likely to follow his example?" inquired Mrs. Twining, idly surveying her rings.

"If you don't mind my saying so, I shouldn't think he'd have the guts," said Camilla negligently.

Mrs. Chudleigh's thin bosom swelled. "If by that expression - which, I must confess, I imagined till now to be confined to schoolboys' use - you mean that he would not have the courage, I am afraid you betray your ignorance of human nature, Mrs. Halliday. Not that I wish to imply for an instant that Geoffrey would even contemplate doing such a dreadful thing."

"Surely we are taking this a little too seriously?" suggested Mrs. Twining. "I for one am not led to suppose that Miss de Silva's affections are of a very permanent mature. I wish you would tell me, Fay, what you do to your roses to make them so much more perfect than i nine."

"It isn't me," Fay answered, sitting down beside her. "Arthur looks after the garden, you know. He is very keen on it."

"Ah, yes, of course," said Mrs. Twining, watching Camilla stroll out on to the terrace. "My dear, will you allow a very old friend of your husband to suggest that if you can induce him to take this affair calmly it might be a very excellent thing?"

"I know," Fay said unhappily. "I - I will try, only - it isn't always easy - when Arthur's annoyed - to - to manage him, you know." She flushed a little, and turned with relief as Dinah came in through the French window. "Oh, darling, there you are! Did you manage to make her understand at all?"

"It isn't possible," said Dinah despairingly. "We shall have to make up our minds to it. She's going to be the life and soul of the party."

"Oh, dear, how awful! What on earth shall I do?" demanded Fay helplessly.

"You can't do anything. I warned her there'd be bridge, but she says it will be better if we dance to the radio." She paused, and delivered her final bombshell. "And she thinks Francis looks as though he could tango, and she is going to do an exhibition tango with him for us all to watch. And I should think," concluded Miss Fawcett thoughtfully, "that it'll be pretty lush, what's more."

Chapter Four

Miss Fawcett, awaking betimes on Monday morning, flirted for a while with the idea of staying in bed to breakfast. Her better self won, however, and she got up in time to breakfast at half past right, thus deliberately courting a tete-d-tete with the General, ever an early riser.

This act of heroism was induced by the events of the week-end. Someone, Miss Fawcett thought gloomily, must try to smooth the General down before he actually flung his son out of the house.

Her prognostications on Saturday had not been false. Miss de Silva had indeed been the life and soul of the party, even going so far as to offer to perform a dance for the edification of the assembled company. Only the General's rigid notions of Christian conduct had prevented him disowning his son the first thing on Sunday morning.

But in spite of the fact that Sir Arthur's principles forbade him to quarrel on the Sabbath, Sunday had not been a happy day. Yet every effort was made to please the General. With the exception of Lola, who, it appeared, never rose before eleven, the whole party went dutifully to church, and Francis, who had blandly announced that Geoffrey's lamentable lack of tact was interfering with his own schemes, made elaborate arrangements for the rest of the day. He banished Geoffrey and Lola on an expedition to Clayton-on-Sea, provided his uncle with every opportunity of flirting with Camilla Halliday, and ended the day by inviting his uncle (by this time almost mellow) to recount some of his Indian experiences. By the time Lola and Geoffrey returned from Clayton-on-Sea the air was thick with shikaris, chuckkas, Pathans, Sikhs, sahibs, bazaars, mahouts, and jinrickshas, and the General midway through an anecdote about a fellah who was a Gunner, a minor Rajah, and a Kabul pony.

But from the moment of Miss de Silva's appearance the General's amiability waned. It was plain that Geoffrey had made an attempt to impress upon Lola the necessity of placating his father, for she broke into the anecdote just as the sail was shampooing the Kabul pony's legs before the first chukka, and announced her firm intention of talking to Geoffrey's papa. The General was a ruthless conversationalist, but he was no match for Miss de Silva, whose twenty-three years in the world had provided her with a larger stock of egotistic reminiscences than he had acquired in all his sixty summers. Russian grand dukes, Polish counts, Spanish anarchists, and Mexican bandits took the place of the Pathans, and the Sikhs, and the Gurkhas, and the scene shifted with bewildering rapidity from Rio de Janeiro to New York, Paris, London, and Monte Carlo, the saga being strung together by the principal motif of Miss de Silva's amazing successes in these different cities.

By supper-time the General was in a state of bottled emotion that seemed to put him in danger of explosion at any moment. The sight of his son watching Miss de Silva with an expression of rapt, uncritical adniration was the last straw. The sanctity of the day prevented an immediate outburst, but, as the house party, in various stages of nervous exhaustion, went limply in to supper, he informed Geoffrey that he had just one or two things to say to him, and would see him in his study at half past nine next morning without fail.

Therefore Miss Fawcett arose betimes.

On her way to the bath she passed Fay's room, and the sound of a military voice upraised in furious monologue induced her, as soon as she had dressed, to visit her sister before she went down to breakfast. She found Fay weeping hysterically over the brushes on her dressing table and put her back to bed and dosed her with aspirin. As far as she could gather from a choked and incoherent explanation, Fay had tried to persuade the General not to take his son's engagement too seriously. Whereupon it seemed (but the story was lost in a maze of sobs, I-saids and he-saids) that Sir Arthur had not only called his wife a soft-headed, meddlesome fool, but had laid the blame of every mishap occurring within the last five years at her door, and declared his intention of cutting Geoffrey off with a shilling immediately after breakfast.

Miss Fawcett recommended her sister to pull herself together, promised to order a tray to be sent up to her mom, and went off downstairs to have it out with the General.

She found him eating a solitary breakfast, and wasted no time in skirmishing preliminaries. "Look here, Arthur," she said forcibly, "you've been upsetting Fay. That's a cad's trick, and you know it."

The General bent upon her the famous glare that had caused so many adjutants to shiver in their shoes, and said menacingly: 'Will-you-have-the-goodness-to-mind-your-own-business?"

"No," said Dinah, "I will not. You've been throwing your weight about ever since I entered this house, and now it's my turn. If you want to bully anybody, try bullying me! It wasn't Fay's fault that Geoffrey got himself engaged to Lola, and it isn't fair to take it out of her just because you're feeling sore. I quite see that it's very annoying for you to have to put up with Lola, but good Lord, Arthur, you don't suppose it'll last, do you?"

"That's enough!" thundered the General. "By God, haven't I enough whining and puling to put up with from your damned fool of a sister without having your impertinence added to it?"

"No, you haven't," replied Miss Fawcett. She sat down at the table and resolutely forced herself to speak without rancour. "Do try and be sensible, Arthur. You'll look utterly silly if you throw Geoffrey out; you will really. And you know what he is. He's quite likely to go and do something idiotic if he gets into one of his worked-up moods."

Sir Arthur banged his fist on the table with such violence that all the crockery shuddered. "He can go to the devil his own way!" he barked. "A fine son he is! What did he do at Eton? Slacked! No good at games, no good at his work! Delicate! Faugh! What did he do at Oxford? Got himself into a mess with a girl in a tobacconist's shop, that's what he did at Oxford, and a damned fool I was to buy her off. What's he doing now? Wasting his time with a set of long-haired nincompoops and disgracing my name! That's all he's doing, and it's going to stop. Do you hear me? It's going to stop!"

"They can probably hear you all over the house," said Dinah calmly. "Cutting Geoffrey off with a shilling won't stop him disgracing your name; it's much more likely to make him do something worse. But I'm not particularly interested in his affairs, or, in fact, in anyone's except Fay's. You may not realise it, but you're fast driving her into a nervous breakdown."

"Nerves!" ejaculated Sir Arthur with a scornful crack of Lutghter. "That's all you modern women think about - nerves! My God, I've no patience with it!"

"All right," said Dinah, a gleam in her eye. "Put it like this, since you will have it! If you go on making Fay's life a hell for her you'll find yourself with another wife who's deserted you!"

The General's face grew purple; his eyes protruded; words jostled one another in his throat.

"In the meantime," said Dinah, picking up her knife and fork, "I'm sending for the doctor to come and prescribe a tonic for her."

Anything the General might have been moved to say in answer to this was put a stop to by the entrance of Francis and Stephen Guest. They were followed in a few minutes by the Hallidays, who also betrayed signs of muffled tempers. Basil Halliday was looking strained, and kept glancing towards his wife with a mixture of anger end entreaty in his sunken eyes; Camilla was faintly flushed, and talked and laughed in a determined manner that seemed to Dinah to be largely defiant.

It had been decided that, since the only through train to town in the morning left Ralton Station, six miles away, at ten minutes to ten the Hallidays were to put off their departure until after lunch. Camilla reminded Sir Arthur that he had promised to take her over to the keeper's cottage to see a litter of springer pups. She said that she was dying to see them, and pouted prettily when he told her that he must first drive in to Ralton on business.

The pout and the look that went with it had the effect of making Sir Arthur unbend a little. He surveyed the charmer with the eye of an epicure, but it would have taken more than Camilla's wiles to interfere with the routine which governed his life. Assuring her that he would take her to see the puppies before she left, he explained that, the day being the first of the month, he had to go through his accounts, and draw a cheque to pay all the wages and the household bills before he could do anything else.

"Method, my dear Camilla! I pride myself upon being methodical. The Army teaches one to lay down certain rules and to stick to them. I pay all the staff, including the outdoor servants, regularly as clockwork, directly after lunch on the first day of the month. My wife has to have her household books ready for inspection by nine o'clock in the morning. Then I find my total, go to the bank, draw what money I want, and by tea-time the whole business is finished. No hanging about, no paying wages every other day of the month. No. I fix a regular pay-day and stick to it, and in that way, Camilla, I know to a farthing what is being spent in the house. It's the only way."

It seemed to Camilla an appalling way, but she said brightly: "I call that such a good idea! I know I'm dreadfully unbusiness-like myself. I wish you could teach mr some of your method, Sir Arthur."

He rose, smiling indulgently down at her. "Oh, we don't expect the fair sex to be business-like! Never met a woman yet who had any notion of method, and, by Gad, I hope I never do! Now what is the time? Nine o'clock! Very well, then. I shall leave for Ralton at ten, and I shall I be back here at eleven, and you and I will go off to see the pups. How will that be?"

"It's too sweet of you!" said Camilla. "I shall be all ready to the tick, just to show you how methodical I can be!"

Francis got up. "I shall have left before you get back from Ralton, Uncle," he said. "Are you busy just now? I should like to have a word with you before I go, if I may."

Sir Arthur looked at him rather grimly. "H'm! If you think it worth while I can spare you five minutes; not a moment more."

They left the room together. Stephen Guest bent towards Dinah. "Is Fay staying in bed to breakfast?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes," replied Dinah matter-of-factly. "She's not feeling frightfully fit. She doesn't sleep well, you know."

Basil Halliday raised his eyes from his plate. "I'm sorry. I know what it is to suffer from insomnia. It would be much better if we left by the nine-fifty, Camilla. We can easily catch it. Lady Billington-Smith won't want us hanging about all the morning."

"Oh, we can't possibly!" said Camilla quickly. "Of course, I'm dreadfully sorry about Fay, but do beg her, Miss Fawcett, not to bother about us in the least."

"Camilla, I would prefer to catch the nine-fifty," said Halliday, the fingers of his right hand working a little.

Camilla paid no attention to this, and, observing a pulse throbbing in Halliday's temple, Dinah interposed: "There's no need for anyone to hurry away on Fay's account. She'll be down presently. Stephen, are you catching the morning train?"

"No," he said, after a moment's deliberation. "I think I'll wait over till the afternoon."

Dinah got up. "Well, I'll go and see if Fay wants anything done for her," she said, and went out.