And Berry Came Too (6 page)

As luck would have it, I had the day’s
Times
by my side. With no time to read it at home, I had brought it along.

Together my cousin and I examined its sheets…

For a while the announcement escaped us, and the others, including the Knave, stood up in the car and added their eyes to the quest.

Then Jill’s pink finger stabbed at the foot of a page.

“Hammercloth – there it is, Boy.”

As I followed her indication, a cry of anguish from Berry rang in my ear.

“Who said it began at midday?”

With his words I found the legend:
Today, Tuesday, June 16th, precisely at half past ten…

There was a ghastly silence. Then—

“Deposit be damned,” said Jonah, and let in the clutch.

It was five and twenty to twelve when we sighted the chimneys of Hammercloth, rosy against the blue. Two minutes later we swept past the waiting cars and up to the front of the house.

Doors and windows were open; the broad, white steps bore the print of many feet; but nobody was to be seen. The only sign of life was the clear-cut voice of a man – floating out of a latticed casement, perhaps ten paces away.

“
Two hundred and forty-five pounds. Two hundred and forty-five pounds. Any advance on two hundred and forty-five pounds? A poor bid, gentlemen, for such a magnificent lot. Worth treble that, and you know it. Two hundred and forty-five pounds
…”

For an instant we sat paralysed. Then we all made to leave the Rolls, as though the car was afire.

I was the first to alight.

As I tore to the open window, I heard the relentless voice.

“
For the last time any advance on two hundred and forty-five pounds?
”

I thrust my head into the room.

“Fifty,” I cried.

The hammer which had been lifted sank to the desk: some seventy heads came round and I found myself the cynosure of every eye in the room.

The auctioneer smiled and nodded.

“
Two hundred and fifty, thank you. Two hundred and fifty pounds. Any advance on
…”

There was no advance.

As I entered the hall, Jonah met me to say that I had become the owner of six Jacobean chairs.

When I explained that I had neither chequebook nor card, the auctioneer’s clerk declared that that did not matter at all.

“You can pay on delivery, sir. We’ll send them over to you whenever you like.”

The table had not been sold. It seemed clear that it would not be reached before half past two.

The village of Hammercloth had but one decent inn, and since this was sure to be crowded with dealers attending the sale, we drove to the neighbouring hamlet of Shepherd’s Pipe. Here the staff of
The Woolpack
received us with open arms, for Shepherd’s Pipe is retired, and strangers, except upon Sundays, are seldom seen: the garden was put at our disposal, a coach-house at that of the Rolls, and, before we had time to ask, our amiable host had proposed that our lunch should be served on the lawn in the shade of an oak. We assented gratefully…

Berry removed his coat, hung this on the back of a chair, commanded a quart of ale and laid himself down on the grass.

“You may have observed,” he said, addressing his wife, “that since your dear brother’s
coup
, I have not opened my mouth. Now, however, I feel disposed to inquire why we are lunching here, instead of at home.”

“You can’t blame Boy,” said Jill, who was sitting down with the Knave. “Supposing it had been the table.”

“I decline to suppose,” said Berry. “The facts are pregnant enough. Against my will I’ve been rushed some fifty odd miles in the heat of the day for the privilege of hearing an entirely unauthorized person spend eighty-three pounds six shillings and eightpence of my money on the purchase of some worm-eaten chairs. I may be peculiar, but a little of that sort of excitement lasts me a very long time. I feel that I want to go home – and get under the spare-room bed. I mean, I’m mentally sick. Anyone would be.”

“I acted for the best,” said I. “I know I took a chance in a million, but no one’s more sorry than I that it didn’t come off.”

“Don’t think I blame you,” said Berry. “I blame myself. If I like to go about with a maniac, I must expect to be involved in transactions like this. But that doesn’t mean I enjoy them.” He sat up and looked about him. “I suppose it is real, isn’t it? It isn’t a hideous dream? Or haven’t we been to Hammercloth?”

“In and out,” said Jonah. “We got out of the car for two minutes and then got back.”

My brother-in-law shuddered.

“We must try,” he said hoarsely, “and keep it from the baboons. I mean, they’d laugh themselves sick. We risk our lives for that table by doing a mile a minute for half an hour upon highly dangerous roads: we arrive with three hours to spare, but before we’ve been there ten seconds, we sink five-sixths of our money on something we do not want and have never seen. I mean, can you beat it?”

“I shall always maintain,” said Daphne, “that Boy did right. If it had been the table and he hadn’t bid as he did, we’d have lost it for good and all.”

“But we’ve lost it now,” screamed her husband. He pointed at me. “That Napoleon’s spent our money…on a filthy set of roach-backed stools that—”

“Rot,” said Daphne. “They mayn’t be what we wanted, but they’re very good-looking chairs.”

“As you please,” said Berry. “I’m not going to argue the point. The unsavoury fact remains that, wisely or unwisely, we have expended the money we never had. In these – to me, repugnant circumstances, I repeat my desire to be informed why we are lunching here instead of at home.”

“Because of the table,” said Jill. “We’ve still got fifty pounds left.”

Berry closed his eyes and put a hand to his head. “Oh, give me strength,” he said brokenly. Then he turned to the Knave. “They’re going back,” he said wildly. “Back to the shambles, old fellow. Back to the lucky dip. I wonder what they’ll get this time.” He laughed idiotically. “Perhaps it’ll be a what-not.”

Pleased with his confidence, the Knave rolled on to his back and put his paws in the air.

“I entirely agree,” said Berry. “I give them up,” and, with that, he covered his face and once more lay back upon the sward.

“We must bid for the table,” said Daphne, “exactly as we arranged. We’ve still got three hundred pounds, for we’ve only to sell the chairs. As a matter of fact, we’ve got more. I quite expect that in London they’d go for double the price.”

“We can’t risk that,” said Jonah. “We must dispose of the chairs before the table comes up. It’s simple enough. We find the runner-up – the fellow that Boy outbid. He’ll take them off us all right – at two hundred and forty-five pounds. Two hundred and fifty perhaps, and glad of the chance.”

My sister fingered her lip.

“It does seem a pity,” she said. “I’m sure if we sold them in London, they’d fetch much more.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” said Jonah. “I believe Boy’s done a good deal. But, as I say, we can’t risk it. If we are to go for that table, we must first get rid of those chairs.”

There was a little silence – devoted to speculation of a fantastic sort. If the chairs were worth five hundred and the table was going to go to four hundred and ninety pounds…

“May I speak?” said Berry. “I mean would it be in order for me to refer to the projected disposal of my property and the laying out of the proceeds on something else?”

“If,” said Daphne, “you’ve anything useful to say.”

“That’s a moot point,” said her husband. “Some might think it uncalled-for. Others might rank it above the drippings of wisdom with which we have just been regaled. But I leave it to you to judge. I gather that you wish to exchange the six chairs we now possess for the table we set out to buy. Unless I am permitted to attempt this operation without any sort of interference from any of you, don’t count on a farthing from me, either towards the chairs or towards any other commitment which you may presently make.”

The ultimatum took us aback.

“This is blackmail,” said Daphne.

“It isn’t really,” said Berry, “but I think I know what you mean. I am putting upon you a pressure before which, placed as you are, you are practically bound to give way.”

“But that isn’t fair.”

“Possibly not,” was the answer, “from your point of view. From mine, it’s a measure of what is called self-preservation. I don’t want what happened this morning to happen again. I do not want to be ruined, because somebody else has an urge to ‘act for the best.’ Myself, I think it’s natural – I may be wrong.”

“I think it’s most natural,” said I, “and I agree to your terms. If ever there was one, this is a one-man job, and you can’t do worse than I have, whatever you do.”

“That,” said my brother-in-law, “remains to be seen. But pray forget any strictures which I may have passed on your deal and accept one of my cigarettes – which are still in the car. I don’t suggest you should get them. There’s no reason why you should.”

The Knave went with me…

I had entered and left the coach-house, recrossed the sunlit forecourt and re-entered the cool of the hall, when I heard the brush of a tire on the gravel outside. As I turned, a magnificent car came slowly to rest some three or four paces away from the door of the inn. Faintly surprised, curious to see its contents, and well aware that, because of the glare without, I could not be seen, I stood where I was, waiting.

At once there emerged from the car as unpleasant-looking a being as ever I saw. His appearance was so startling and repulsive that I put down a hand to the Knave for fear that the dog, so confronted, would launch an attack. As I did so, I heard him growl, and, as I sought for his collar, I found the hackles risen along his chine. The dog may be forgiven. The creature that he was regarding suggested a clothed baboon.

I heard him address his chauffeur.

“You will go straight to Hammercloth – that is the village to come. Mr Aaron is there – at the Hall. But you will not drive up to the house nor go near the inn. Turn back when you see the big gates and wait for Mr Aaron a little way off. When he has arrived, bring him here.”

As I left the house for the garden, I heard the car leave the forecourt and then its master’s voice demanding a private room.

Berry was where I had left him, but the others had strolled away and were not to be seen. I took my seat by his side and made him free of my news. He listened carefully.

“A baboon,” he said. “What a most remarkable thing. I wonder if he’s blue-based… Never mind. The sale, of course… He’s after that table or something. But he daren’t show up himself, so Aaron is taking his place. And Aaron is coming to report, as soon as they rise for lunch.”

“Why daren’t he show up?” said I.

“Because he is too well known to get anything cheap. The moment he shows his mug the dealers sit up: and if he begins to bid, they know that they’re on a winner and take him up.” He fingered his chin. “I wonder what time they’ll rise. I’d like to see Mr Aaron, and I’d like very much indeed to hear his report.”

Though all this was pure speculation, it might have been a statement of fact. My brother-in-law had been speaking not so much with conviction as though he were repeating some information received, and though my reason told me that he might be entirely wrong, his quiet recital went far to compel belief.

As though he could read my thoughts–

“I know I’m right,” said Berry. “The moment you said ‘baboon,’ I knew we were off. Fate’s always pointing her finger, but we’re too blind to see it until too late. Very, very rarely man is permitted to perceive the obvious in time. Once before, it happened to me. And now for the second time… Didn’t I say this morning that
I should value the ruling of a baboon?
Well, here we are. Here’s the baboon I spoke of…
whose ruling is of such value that he dare not show up at the sale
…” He broke off, to gaze at the distance with narrowed eyes. “What I cannot see is how his ruling will help us. To know that he’s after that table won’t help us at all. It’s money, not ruling we need… Get hold of Jonah, will you? We must know when Aaron arrives, and we’ll have to take it in turns to picket that hall.”

The spin of a coin had decided that my second turn of duty should start at a quarter past one. It was then that I relieved Jonah, who had spent his time in the coach house, ready to cross the forecourt the moment he heard the big car. Myself, I thought it better to stay in the hall, for Aaron had only to see me to know me at once for the man who had bid from the window an hour or so back. And that would put him on his guard. But the hall was dim, and the staircase, passage and garden offered three lines of retreat. It was, of course, still more important that Aaron’s repulsive master should entertain no suspicion that Aaron was being awaited by anyone else.

The man had been given a room whose windows gave to the forecourt, whose door to the hall. So much Berry had discovered. With my eyes on that door, I hovered between my three exits. Mercifully, the staff was still busy about our lunch.

A third of my duty was past when I saw the door handle move. In a flash I had gained the stairs which rose in two flights. Out of view, on the second flight, I stood like some escaped convict, straining my ears.

For a moment I heard no sound: and then the man was moving – moving very softly, as though he did not wish to be heard.

I fell to my hands and knees and peered between the staves of the balustrade.

More simian in appearance than ever, the fellow was treading a-tiptoe, poking his head and listening with every step. What on earth had aroused his suspicions, I cannot conceive; but something – some horrid instinct had suggested that I was at hand: he was out to prove this suggestion… Failure would discredit his instinct and send him back to his room with an easy mind: success would ruin such plans as Berry had laid and would so humiliate me as to shorten my life.

I watched him survey the passage and steal to the garden-door. As he leaned into the garden, I climbed the remaining stairs and took my stand on the landing, back to the wall. So for perhaps thirty seconds. Then I heard the rap of a stair rod against its eye…