There is always love (25 page)

"You've said something, Greg." The angry flush faded from Grant's face. "Brought that nurse of Billy Boy's with you, didn't you, Janet?"

"Yes, Skid, but I know she's honest. I know it."

"She has a beau, hasn't she?"

"She has, Greg, but—"

"You told me the day the bracelet disappeared that she was in tears most of the time because he was a rounder, didn't you?"

"Yes, but—"

"Quit the third-degree business, Greg. Janet, put that bracelet into your pocket—"

"I haven't one." She slipped it under the square neck of her crimson moire frock between the diamond daisy clips. "This will do." Her eyes were enormous as she admitted: 144

"I felt like a thief myself when I took this from Linda's jewel box, but I had to be sure. Suppose she missis it?'*

"What do you mean, 'misses it'? She never has known it was there. Get that and don't forget it." Greg Merton's voice was savage with fury. "It's that nurse of yours. She's been fratty with Libby Hull since she came, hasn't she?"

"I didn't mean it that way, I honestly didn't, Greg. I love Lindy. I—"

"Forget it, Janey. Listen carefully. One by one we'll drift into the billiard room. After the picture, which is full of yelling, shooting and engine whistles, while we're having the *snack' Buff brings in, I'll ask you if Billy Boy has slept through the racket. You grin and say—"

"I know. 'Don't you and Skid want to see him, Greg? He's a cherub when he's asleep.' "

"Perfect. Then we three will race upstairs and hand that nurse the surprise of her life. Now for the picture. Go first, Janey."

"I know Nurse didn't steal the bracelet," Janet reaflarmed from the threshold.

"We'll tackle said nurse before we make our rounds. Skid," Greg said in a low voice. "She may be in on the Lorillo scheme, he may be the 'rounder' she's in love with, if you and I haven't gone haywire and there is a scheme. We'll put her where she can't do her stuff."

"If she hid that bracelet in Linda's room, I'll get her if it's the last thing I do on earth."

"Take it easy. Skid. We'll make someone pay for that and pay to the limit. I have a hunch I know who it will be. Come on. We've got to sit through the picture."

As they entered the billiard room Madam Steele and her guests were seated facing a screen. On the gallery at the opposite end of the room a man was working over the projector. Linda hadn't come in. Was she still busy with Buff, Greg wondered uneasily. Hester slipped her hand under his arm. She pouted engagingly.

"I missed you. Hasn't this been a gorgeous Christmas? Look!" She held out her lovely hand, made to seem even whiter than it was by the pure blue of a diamond-set turquoise ring. "Nice, isn't it? Not as valuable as Linda's emerald, but then Linda always gets the breaks." She cleared her voice of petulance. "Don't think I'm complaining. It was wonderful of Madam Steele to give me anything."

"Better not flash your jewels. Someone looking in the window might try to snitch that ring off you someday. . . . That cheery crack adds to the holiday hilarity, doesn't it? Forget it. Here come Linda and Buff. There go the lights. The show is on."

His voice had been casual while his heart burned and smarted. How had Janet's bracelet come in Linda's jewel box? How had Mrs. Grant's come in his sister's? Was there any truth in the suspicion which had blazed like lightning through his mind a few moments ago in the library or had he gone screwball?

As he sat in the dark his thoughts were concerned wholly with ways and means of clearing up the mystery. His eyes were on the screen but they were blind to the conspiring, fighting, laboring, cheating, courageous and inspired human beings working out their celluloid destinies; his ears were deaf to the clank of iron wheels on steel rails, to the shrill engine whistles, thud of axes, shouts of soldiers, war whoops of Indians, to the constant volley of guns.

In the midst of his preoccupation he was suddenly aware that all soimd had ceased. Lights were on. Had the film broken?

"Hands up! Make it snappy!'*

The voice had come from behind him. He turned. His heart went cold. Two masked, raincoated men, stubby automatics drawn, threatened from the threshold of the doorway to the drawing room. A holdup! Timed at the height of the picture's din. His eyes flashed from them to the guests grouped about Madam Steele, who stood, white head erect like a queen, in their midst. All present but Linda and Buffi He had seen them come in. Where were they? Buff! Was he behind this? Had he enticed her out of the room? Was he holding her? Bill Colton's laugh broke the tense silence.

"What's this? A neighborhood joke. Aunt Jane? For a minute these guys had me fooled. I—"

"Shut up! Hands up! Everybody!" The snarl came from the taller of the masked men. "Keep 'em up! Get into the other room. Scram."

Disguised as it was there was a hint of familiarity in that voice. Where had he heard it? As they were being herded into the next room Greg's eyes met Grant's whose lips formed a word.

Lorillo! Lorillo in person! Who was his pal? Someone in this house had made their entrance easy. Their exit would be made hard, damned hard, if he got drilled doing it. If it weren't for the glittering tree he would be sure this was a nightmare. Not a chance. Those two toughs were real. Lucky Linda was out of the mess. Was she? Someone had set a pitcher of claret cup, glasses and small cakes on a table. Buff had been here. He had been at the picture. Had he stolen out to let these men in? Had Lindy seen him and followed? Had he seen her and—"Steady! Steady, or you won't have the nerve to think this through," he warned himself. 146

"Do your stuff I I've got 'em covered."

At the rough command the short man snatched the diamond clips from Janet's frock. Greg lunged toward him. Her husband, ghastly with anger, dropped his hands and struck.

"Put 'em up," the tall man growled, "or else—" He fired a shot into the wall behind Colton. "Get the old woman's rubiesi"

Greg's eyes flashed to Sanders at Madam Steele's right. Would he dare protect her? His face was a mask of fury, his eyes were daggers of hate as he glared at the man with the gun. Had his head moved in a slight negative shake? It had. Smoldering suspicion blazed to certainty. Sanders was tied up in this. Sanders had—

"What's this? A shootin' party?" inquired a gay voice, from the other end of the room.

It was Linda I Linda with a knobby white bundle clasped in her armsl Her bedraggled frock trailed streamers of gold net. Her hair was tossed. Her colorless face was smooched. Her brown eyes glowed. The holdup men wheeled. In that instant Bill Colton sprang. Sent the short one crashing down. Reynolds, Grant and Buff flung the tall one to the floor. Greg wrenched the automatic from his hand. Leveled it at Sanders.

"Sit down!" The words crackled with fury.

The man's eyes bximed like live coals in his livid face. His stiff Ups widened in a sickly grin.

"Gone screwy again, Merton? Forget iti Colton needs help."

"Sit down! Lindy, drop that thing you're holding. Quickl Pull the light wires off the treel I'll tie him up. He's in on this."

"I'U help with that wire." Madam Steele had emerged from a coma of surprise at the holdup. "I've suspected he was up to some deviltry. He hasn't had me fooled for a minute, though I thought it was my business he was after." Her eagle eyes blazed. "So this is why you accepted my hospitahty, Sanders. To pave the way for a gang of cut-throats,"

"But, my dear lady—"

"Shut upl Or I'll—"

Sanders sprang. Caught Merton's throat in a stranglehold and choked off the sentence. Gripped his wrist and seized the gun. Through a red haze Greg saw a girl in a ragged frock running toward him.

"Keep back, Lin—" Something burst in his head. The room went black.

LINDA ignored the broken command, dashed forward on a surge of outraged fury. She grabbed Sanders' hand which held the automatic.

"Keith! Keith! You struck Greg! Are you crazy?'*

"Let me go! Quick!" His voice was murderous, his eyes were savage. He tried to shake her off. She clung desperately. Dragged at his wrist. Subconsciously she was aware of Madam Steele pulling and jerking at the light wire on the tree, of Buff helping; of Bill Colton struggling with someone on the floor, of white-faced Janet standing over them with a heavy vase poised to drop; of Skid perched on the head, the Judge seated on the midriff of the prostrate form of a long, raincoated figure, of Ruth kneeling on one of his arms; of her mother and Hester huddled in a corner.

"Mother! Hester! Help Greg! Water!" she called over her shoulder. "Come somebody! He's getting away! He's getting away!" She clung to Sanders' arm as he dragged her from her feet toward the window.

"No he isn't." With incredible dexterity Madam Steele flung a loop of wire dangling with colored glass bulbs over his head and pinioned his arms. Round and round she went— as Buff freed more and more from the tree—^winding, pulling with unbelievable strength while the blond man ineffectually struggled and fought.

"You needn't hold him any longer, Linda. I've got him. He can't walk; he'll have to hop. Take that revolver away from him," Madam Steele ordered.

"Let it alone!" Greg Merton snatched the gun from Sanders' useless hand. His eyes were dazed. Moisture dripped from his hair and chin, ran in red rivulets down his white shirt-front. Hester or her mother must have emerged from their coma and emptied the pitcher of claret cup over him, Linda decided, and fiercely choked back a rising tide of sobs and laughter.

"Buff! Buff!" Janet called frantically. "Upstairs! Quick! See if Billy Boy and Nurse are safe." She brandished the vase above the struggling man her husband was holding to the floor. "If you've harmed my child I'll beat your brains out with this . .." she threatened fiercely.

Madam Steele gave a vicious pull to the wire around Sanders. "And they call this Christmas! 'Peace on earth to all men of good will,' " she quoted grimly. 148

**What's going on here?" From the open window a man followed his gmfif query into the room.

"Another of the gangi Give me that!" Madam Steele snatched the automatic from Greg's hand. "I'll get him I"

"Take it easy, Madam. I don't belong to any gang." Jim Shaw's protest showed strain. He bared gorillalike teeth in a chalky face. 'Take it easy, Madam.'*

"For the love of Petel" Skid Grant shouted. "If you've got any men with you, call 'em in quick. Shawl"

"Men! More men! Has the boy gone crazy? God knows we have all the men here we can handle, Gregory!"

"Shaw is an officer, Duchess. He'll help."

Sanders took advantage of their diverted attention to hop cautiously toward the open window. He stopped with a muttered curse. Two officers and a girl had stepped into the room, a girl in a leopardskin coat with a matching turban crushed down on her yellow hair. Her eyes shone hard and green as emeralds in her colorless face. Her scarlet lips twisted in a sneer.

"Alixl What..."

"What am I domg in the mansion of a socialite?" Miss Crane finished Sanders' hoarse question. "I've come to see you, darling. And what a sight! The irresistible Great Lover trussed up like a Christmas goose!" Her harsh laugh flooded the man's white face with turbid red.

"I've come to hear you swear, Keith Sanders, that I didn*t know that the 'costume bracelet' you gave me was the real thing, that I didn't know it was part of the Grant loot, that you did make me promise not to tell who gave it to me, promise to say I bought it off a friend." Her voice lashed. She pulled a pistol from her pocket. "Come across with the truth, you heel, and come across quick!" Jim Shaw seized her wrist.

"None of that. Miss Crane. My men will take care of him."

"Shut up, Shaw." She jerked her hand free. "You've been shadowing me for days. Yesterday you had the nerve to accuse me of having knowingly received stolen goods. You brought me here tonight to face Sanders. And was I glad to come. Glad to put a crimp in his Christmas. When he gave me that bracelet I was a fool not to have known he was doing me dirt; one look at his cold-storage eyes ought to put even a dumb cluck wise. Well, I'm here. He'll talk if I have to shoot to make him. Speak your little piece, darling, or . . ." She stared incredulously at the battered men being roughly forced forward by two in uniform.

"Pedro! What are you doing here?" The question was a shocked whisper. Her amazed eyes rested for an instant on his handcuffed wrist. "My God! You! You, a gangster! I'm

J49

catching on; Now I know why you urged me to let you take my bracelet to have it copied in genuine stones for me. You knew it was the real thing. And—I—^poor fool—thought you loved me." She drew a deep, shuddering breath. "Senor Pedro Lorillo from Brazil, where the or—orchids come from. It's a scream, a . . ." High, discordant laughter broke in a harsh sob. She buried her face in her shaking hands.

Shaw hurriedly picked up the pistol she had dropped. The onetime Brazilian's face was the color of dirty wax, the whites of his eyes rolled like the eyes of a racehorse on the homestretch. The crafty eyes in the dead-pan face of the man beside him met Linda's.

The room whirled. She drove her teeth into her lips till her brain cleared. It was the cadaverous man who had called at Keith's office, the man who had brought round her car the first time she had come to The Castle. He had been sent to prepare for this night!

Fragments of memory slipped into a pattern. Sanders* eagerness to handle the sale of Madam Steele's estate; his interest in the lacquer cabinets; his livid face when the Crane girl had brought the Brazilian to their table. . . . His savage "Get it or lay off!" at the phone had meant he was ordering Lorillo to get the emerald bracelet from her. . . . Her dazed impression that she had seen him going out the door at noon that day at Janet's; his devotion to herself, a cover to become familiar with this house, when she had thought he was after business; his suggestion that a cinema outfit be installed; his opening of the drawing-room window tonight (his click of the key had been faked)—he, not poor old Buff, had paved the way for the thieves. . . . Cline and his snapshots; the holdup at the peak of the din of the picture ...