The Unfinished Clue (6 page)

Stephen followed her, and stopped her as she was about to go up the stairs." Just a moment, Dinah."

She glanced sharply round at him, and saw that his face was more than ordinarily grim. "Well?"

He came to the foot of the staircase, and laid his hand on the rail. "Fay's upset?" he demanded abruptly.

"She's all right. For goodness' sake don't you start being dramatic! Why on earth don't you go by the train you said you were going by?"

"I'm seeing Fay before I go."

Dinah sighed. "I suppose you heard Arthur making himself felt before breakfast."

"Yes, I did hear him," replied Guest in a level voice. "And I don't leave till I've seen Fay."

"All right, you needn't be so emphatic about it. But it's no use thinking you'll get her to run away with you, Stephen, because she won't. I know Fay, and she's just the sort of person who'd rather be a martyr than start a scandal."

He looked at her for a moment. "Maybe you're right," he said, and turned away, pausing by the hall table to pick up a newspaper.

Dinah found her sister fairly calm, but very pale and heavy-eyed. She was speaking to Mrs. Moxon, the cook, when Dinah came in, and started nervously at the sound of the opening door. Since the between-maid had been sweeping the landing when it happened, the entire indoor staff knew by this time that the General and her ladyship had been having words again. There was an air of dark sympathy about Mrs. Moxon. She said: "You leave it to me, m'lady," and "I was going to speak to you about that Janet. But there, it'll do some other time."

She departed presently, full of good intentions about the remains of the joint, and spread the news below stairs that her ladyship was looking like death so that it made her heart fair bleed to see her. She further expressed a desire to give His-High-and-Mightiness a piece of her mind. "Let him come poking his bad-tempered nose into my kitchen, that's all, Mr Finch!" she said delphically.

Upstairs Fay smiled wanly at her sister, and said: 'Sorry to make such a fool of myself. I don't think I can be very well. I probably need a change or a tonic, or something."

"Yes, that's what I told Arthur. I propose to ring up your doctor, if you'll tell me what his name is."

"I have Dr Raymond, but I don't know that -"

"Then we'll send for him," said Dinah. "It'll put the wind up Arthur. By the way, Arthur's quite determined to cast Geoffrey off. He's the sort of man who'd cut off his nose to spite his face and then argue that it looked better that way."

Fay raised herself on her elbow. "Dinah, I'm terribly worried about Geoffrey. It's all very well for you — you're not his stepmother; but I feel it's my duty to try and stand between him and Arthur. And if Arthur turns him out it'll look as though I'd been working against him."

"Don't confuse the issues," said Dinah. "Let Arthur turn him out. He'll take him back again fast enough."

"That's just what he won't do!" Fay said urgently. "You think Arthur's just a joke. He isn't. He's dreadful. Right down inside him he's hard; hard as nails, Dinah! He likes to hurt people, and bully them, and make their lives a misery for them. And if once he says he won't have Geoffrey in his house again it'll be final. I tell you I know what I'm talking about! Haven't you heard Arthur say that when he says a thing he means it, once and for all? That's true. He does mean it. He thinks that's being strong and iron-willed. He'd do anything sooner than go back on what he's once said."

"Steady!" recommended Dinah. "You keep cool. Shall I tip the wink to the Halliday wench to pour oil. I rather loathe the idea, but she does seem to go down very smoothly with him."

A look of distaste crossed Fay's face. " I think I'd rather you, didn't," she said. "I mean — no, I can't confide in a person like that. I'd better get up. Stephcn hasn't gone, has he?"

"No," said Dinah shortly. "I wish he had."

As she descended the stairs again five minutes later she was met by Finch, with the information that Mrs. Twining was on the telephone, and would like to speak either to her ladyship or to Miss Fawcett .

The only extension of the telephone which the General had allowed was to his own study, so anyone else wishing to use the instrument had to do so in the hall, quite the most public place that could possibly have been chosen.

Dinah picked up the receiver. "Hullo? Dinah Fawcett speaking."

"Good morning, my dear," said Mrs. Twining's voice tranquilly. "I am merely curious, you know. How have you weathered the week-end?"

"Well, it's all pretty grim," said Dinah.

"I was afraid perhaps it might be. Arthur had such an irreligious face in church. Has he disowned poor Geoffrey yet?"

"I think he's doing it now," replied Dinah, with a glance down the long hall to the study door, from behind which came the sound of a loud voice booming and roaring.

There was a slight pause. "I see," said Mrs. Twining thoughtfully. "Do you know, I think I will come and have a little chat with Arthur."

"Do you think you can do anything with him?" asked Dinah hopefully. "Fay quite definitely can't."

"I have no idea," said Mrs. Twining. "I think I have a little - a very little - influence over him. Tell Fay that I will look in at lunch-time. Good-bye, my dear."

Dinah put the receiver down as Finch came into the hall through the door that led to the servants' wing. "Mrs. Twining will be here for lunch," she said. "I think perhaps I'd better do the flowers for Lady Billington-Smith. What is the time, Finch?"

The butler stepped back to get a view of the grandfather clock. "It is just on the quarter, miss. To be exact, I should say it is sixteen minutes to ten, since I believe we are a little fast."

"We should be," murmured Dinah. "Has Captain Billington-Smith gone, do you know?"

"No, miss. Captain Billington-Smith was with Sir Arthur until twenty minutes past nine, and has, I believe, gone up to his room."

"Oh, well, I suppose I'd better wait to see him off," reflected Dinah, and wandered into the morning-room, a somewhat gloomy apartment behind the study with windows that faced, inappropriately, west.

She sat down to glance through a picture paper, and had just passed from "Dramatic Outburst in Court' by way of "Boy Hero Saves Kitten's Life' to "Four Killed in Air Liner Disaster' when a door was slammed violently, and hasty footsteps passed the morning-room and went up the stairs two at a time.

Geoffrey, thought Miss Fawcett. What does a helpful spinster do now? Nothing. (Answer adjudged incorrect.)

The grandfather clock began to whir alarmingly, and presently struck ten in the brittle manner peculiar to all genuine models. Simultaneously, the General's voice was to be heard, demanding in stentorian tones why the devil that fellow Peacock hadn't brought the car round yet. "When I say ten o'clock I mean ten o'clock, and the sooner you all realise that the better it will be for you!" he rasped.

Dinah did not catch the butler's quiet answer, but in about half a minute Peacock apparently arrived with the General's car, for the echoes of a harangue on punctuality delivered on the doorstep reached her ears. Miss Fawcett reflected that to live continually with that over-loud, nagging voice might conceivably wear down nerves less delicate than her sister's.

It ceased at last, and gave place to a prodigious series of explosions from the car, and a jarring of gears too hastily changed. Miss Fawcett emerged from the iuorning-room in time to hear Peacock, still standing in the porch, say sullenly to Finch: "Good place or not, I'm giving in my notice when he pays me, and that's that."

Shortly before half past ten Francis came down the stairs in a leisurely fashion. It was never an easy matter to read the thought behind his eyes, and Dinah, frankly surveying him now, was unable to decide whether he had succeeded in his mission to Sir Arthur or not. A not very pleasant smile curled his thin lips, and when he caught sight of Dinah he remarked in his usual languidly cynical way: "Such a pathetic sight, my pet. Do go up and look. My poor little cousin waiting on the mat outside Lola's door! He looks just like the Weak Young Man Driven to Despair in a Raffles play. I am quite sorry to be leaving, for the party is beginning to be almost amusing. Do say good-bye to Fay for me, and thank her for a perfectly bloody week-end. Do I kiss you, or not?"

"Not," replied Miss Fawcett decidedly. "Good-bye. Try not to get had up for speeding. Arthur's very hot against that about now."

Upstairs, Geoffrey, regardless of appearances, had flung himself down on a chair against the wall on the landing, and was sitting with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands awaiting Miss de Silva's pleasure. Miss de Silva, like Sir Arthur, held to certain fixed rules, one of these being an immovable resolve not to be disturbed by anyone but the faithful Concetta until eleven o'clock in the morning. She had already intimated to Geoffrey, through Concetta, her mouthpiece, that it was impossible, quite impossible, to admit him into her room, so there was nothing for him to do but to wait, which he did, under the sympathetic eye of Dawson, engaged in turning out Captain Billington-Smith's late bedroom. Dawson was stirred to the depths of her romantic soul by Geoffrey's pose of utter dejection, but she did not really want his troubles to vanish. She had a passion for drama, and had already in her mind condemned Geoffrey to be shot through the head by his own hand. As she folded sheets and shook up pillows she was silently rehearsing the evidence she would give at the inquest. Miss Joan Dawson, "a slim, youthful figure in a brown dress and close-fitting hat' - her new black crinoline straw which Ted liked was nicer, really, but they always wore close-fitting hats - "gave her evidence in a low, clear voice…'

Peckham, the head housemaid, came up the back stairs with her starched skirts crackling to give due warning of her approach. There was no nonsense about Peckham; she never went to the pictures, or kept company with a boy, or weaved stories about her employers. She knew her place, knew it far too well to cast more than one detached, incurious glance at Geoffrey, still holding his head in his hands. Her brisk, severe voice cut through all lurid imaginings, like a sharp pair of scissors ripping up lengths of gossamer. "Now then, Dawson, are you going to be all day over one room? Pick up those sheets and take them along to the linen basket; I'll finish this off, thank you."

Camilla Halliday came out of her bedroom at the back of the house, and opened her eyes rather at sight of Geoffrey. She was wearing a large hat, in readiness for her trip to the keeper's cottage. It had a becoming tilt to its brim, and she knew that it made her look young and appealing. She went towards the head of the staircase, but paused before going down, and said, with a kind of tolerant, half-scornful concern: "You look pretty, rotten. Are you ill, or something? Has anything gone wrong?"

Geoffrey raised his head, and gave a bitter laugh. "Oh, something! I've only had my whole life ruined!"

"Help!" said Camilla. "As bad as that? I suppose there's nothing I can do?"

"No one can do anything," said Geoffrey. "Not that I want anyone to try. I at least have my pen left to me, and after the things that have been said to me today I wouldn't enter this house again if Father begged me to on his bended knees. In fact, I won't answer for myself if l have to see him again."

"Oh, well!" said Camilla, shrugging her shoulders. "If there's nothing I can do I think I'll be going downstairs." It's just my rotten luck, she thought, that ghastly fool of a boy putting the old man's back up just when I want him in a good mood. 0 God, I suppose I shall have to let him gas about India again, and slobber all over me.

Then she heard the General's voice in the hall, and the weary, discontented look vanished as though by magic from her face, and she ran down the remaining stairs, calling to the General: "Oh, Sir Arthur, you really are too terribly punctual for words! How can you manage it? I think you must be some kind of wizard. And I meant to be on the doorstep waiting for you, just to show you!"

Geoffrey heard his father say, with ponderous playfulness: "Ah, you won't steal a march on me in a hurry, fair lady! I told you I should be back on the stroke of eleven, and here I am, you see, all my business done, and entirely at your disposal just as soon as I've deposited this little packet in my safe."

The door of Miss de Silva's room opened, and Concetta appeared. "It is permitted that you see the Signora now," she said kindly.

There did not seem to be very much reason why Geoffrey should not have seen the Signora at any time during the past half-hour, for she could not have been in the throes of her toilet since she was still in bed when he at last entered the room.

She was wearing a very low-cut elaborate nightgown, and her black curls, though brushed till they shone, had not been crimped into any of the styles of coiffure that she affected.

Geoffrey stopped short just inside the room, gazing at her hungrily. "God, how lovely you are!" he said, a trifle thickly, and plunged forward to the bedside, grasping at her.

Lola submitted to his rather greedy embrace with a smile of satisfaction. She allowed him to kiss her, on her mouth, and her throat, and up her white arms, but she did not betray any sign of being much stirred by his ardour. She seemed to find it pleasant but incidental, and as soon as she was tired of it she pushed him away, though quite gently, and said: "It is enough. In a minute Concetta will come back to dress me and you must at once go away. And I must tell you that I have not slept at all, not one instant, because it is impossible that I should sleep when cocks are permitted to crow all night. It is a thing that I find very badly arranged, quite insupportable."

"Darling!" Geoffrey said, trying to seine her hands. "I ought never to have brought you! But you shan't spend another moment in this house. I'm going to take you away at once, my poor angel!"

"But what are you talking about? It's not at all sensible. Naturally I shall spend a great many moments in this house, for I am not dressed yet, and besides, I do not go away until I have eaten lunch," said Lola, always practical.

"I know a little place on the road to town where we can lunch," began Geoffrey.