‘We’d better start packing the screen apparatus,’ said van Draper suddenly. He was halfway to the door with Guest when Ben stopped him.
‘Just a minute,’ said Ben. ‘What the devil happens to me after it’s all over?’
‘You’ll meet Iris at the junction near High Moorford,’ Mrs Moffat informed him. ‘She’ll bring you down to the chalet. Is that clear, Iris?’
The actress nodded, stubbed out her cigarette and rose.
‘It looks as if I won’t get that part in Temple’s new play after all,’ she murmured with just a trace of regret in her voice.
Ben turned to Guest.
‘You’d better give me a hand with that pump. It takes a devil of a time to get it going,’ he declared.
‘All right,’ said Guest.
‘I’m off now,’ decided Iris. ‘I’ll see you later, Ben.’
‘OK,’ he grunted, ‘and for God’s sake mind you’re there in time.’
‘I don’t think Hardwick will give you any trouble,’ said Mrs Moffat, ‘but if he does, you’ll know what to do.’
‘Don’t worry about Hardwick,’ snapped van Draper. ‘We’ll handle him all right.’
‘I can’t see why the devil we should take Hardwick down to the chalet – just because of Temple,’ Guest protested rather irritably. ‘If we intend to get Temple, then why on earth don’t we—’
Mrs Moffat silenced him with a gesture.
‘We can’t take any chances,’ she told them. ‘Not where Paul Temple is concerned.’
‘H’m, perhaps you’re right,’ Guest conceded.
‘Shall you come down to the chalet, Mrs Moffat?’ asked Iris.
‘No – at least, not till later.’
In answer to Iris’ inquiring glance, she forced a smile. ‘I can’t – because of Z.4,’ she said. ‘I may be wanted.’
3
Paul Temple was not a little surprised to find the rather ornate gate to the drive of Skerry Lodge wide open. According to Bryant, Hubert C. Hardwick had found this very gate heavily padlocked. Could Bryant have been telling the truth? He made no comment to Steve. Whoever was at home in Skerry Lodge, reflected Temple, could not fail to hear the car approach. Soon the front porch came into full view, with a corner of Loch Abaford visible beyond a terrace to the right of the house. Temple drove boldly up to the rather massive front door and the car drew up with a slight screech of brakes.
He switched off the engine, and they sat in the car for two minutes surveying the landscape. After a little while Temple leapt out, and Steve joined him.
‘By Timothy, Bryant was certainly right about this place,’ Temple decided, looking up at the gaunt walls.
‘Darling, don’t you think we ought to go round to the side of the house before we try the front?’ murmured Steve rather nervously.
‘Sh!’ said Temple, who was inside the front porch by now. ‘There’s someone coming.’ He had rung the bell without Steve noticing it. ‘Now it’s perfectly all right, Steve. Don’t get frightened.’
Heavy footsteps echoed on the stone flags inside, and presently the door was opened by Ben, who stood stiffly in the doorway.
‘Good evening, sir.’
‘Good evening,’ replied Temple pleasantly. ‘I should like to see Mr Hardwick. My name is—’
‘Mr Hardwick is very busy just at the moment, sir, but if you’ll step this way…’
‘Thank you,’ replied Temple. ‘Come along, darling.’
Ben was rather taken aback to find Temple accompanied by his wife, but managed to conceal his surprise. He ushered them into the drawing room.
‘What name shall I say, sir?’
‘Temple – Paul Temple.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Ben gravely, and retired, closing the door firmly behind him.
Steve clutched her husband’s arm.
‘Paul,’ she said in low urgent tones, tinged with alarm, ‘Paul, we shouldn’t have come here.’
‘It’s all right, darling,’ repeated Temple reassuringly. He was busy taking rapid stock of his surroundings, and trying to work out a rough geography of the place. ‘I say, it’s a pretty decent sort of house, this…Certainly believes in doing himself well…’ He crossed to the sideboard and thoughtfully surveyed the three empty whisky bottles and the large pile of cigarette ends on the ashtrays. ‘There’s been quite a party,’ he mused.
Steve’s voice brought him out of his reverie.
‘I didn’t notice Sir Graham when we left the inn,’ she was saying. ‘I hope you told him that we were coming here.’
‘Sir Graham was telephoning – rather important, I should imagine.’ Temple paced up and down the room. ‘Hardwick must be worth a packet by the look of things,’ he said. ‘Just take a look at this picture!’ He moved over to examine the oil painting rather more closely, then stopped short.
‘What is it?’ asked Steve.
‘He’s coming back.’
A moment later the bulky form of Ben loomed in the doorway.
‘Mr Hardwick is extremely busy, sir,’ he announced, ‘but if you’d care to step down to his laboratory, I think he might be able to spare you a few moments.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Temple agreed. ‘Come along, Steve.’
‘I should leave your things here, sir,’ interposed Ben, taking Temple’s hat. ‘You’ll be able to pick them up on the way back.’ He appropriated the light coat Steve was carrying and led the way along a short passage and down a flight of rather badly lighted stairs.
Directly facing them was a massive oak door, which Ben immediately flung open.
‘This way, sir…this way, madam…Mr Hardwick will be along directly.’
The door closed, and Temple and Steve found themselves in a most unprepossessing cellar, lighted very dimly by partly concealed ventilators. An old table stood in the far corner of the room.
‘Paul – I don’t like the look of this place,’ said Steve with a slight shiver.
‘No, I’m not exactly enamoured myself,’ Temple agreed.
Suddenly he walked swiftly to the door, turned the knob and pulled hard, but it seemed almost as immovable as the wall itself.
‘Paul…what is it?’ cried Steve, noticing his jaw drop.
He was silent for a moment, making a last attempt to move the door.
‘My God, Steve, we ought to have had more sense!’ he murmured bitterly. ‘We certainly shan’t get out of here in a hurry!’
‘But—why have they done this?’ cried Steve. ‘I can’t understand—’
‘For precisely the same reason that they left the car on “Hell’s Elbow”,’ replied Temple grimly. ‘Obviously, our visit wasn’t the surprise I thought it would be.’
He brooded upon the situation for some minutes.
‘Couldn’t we break the door down?’ suggested Steve at length, but Temple shook his head.
‘Not this door, I’m afraid,’ he said.
‘Why is it padded at the foot?’ asked Steve.
He bent down and examined the strip of heavy padding which had somehow been fastened on the underside of the door. Meanwhile Steve wandered away to take stock of the rest of the room. Underneath one of the ventilators she paused, listened, then looked upwards.
Her scream startled Temple in his contemplation of the door.
‘Paul—look!’
He ran across to her and followed the indication of her trembling finger.
A thin stream of water was trickling steadily through the ventilator.
Temple caught his breath, then turned abruptly and ran across to the other ventilator. There was an even stronger stream flowing through it.
‘My God!’ he ejaculated. ‘So that’s what it is.’
‘They’re—they’re flooding the room!’ cried Steve.
They could hear the water quite distinctly now, as it tumbled through the ventilators in almost a miniature cascade.
Temple rushed across and shook the doorknob vigorously.
The water was now abou
t an inch deep on the floor.
‘Open this door!’ shouted Temple desperately, hammering at the panel with both fists.
‘Paul, we’ve got to get out somehow,’ she said.
‘It’s no use, I’m afraid,’ he replied, turning away from the door. ‘We’ll just have to wait.’ He sank onto the table, where Steve was already perched, watching the water slowly rising.
He placed an arm around her.
‘Frightened, dear?’ he whispered.
‘Yes, I am rather,’ she confessed. He clasped her shoulder reassuringly, though he felt far from hopeful.
For a second or two he gazed thoughtfully down at the water.
‘At this rate, I should say we’ve got about an hour,’ he estimated. ‘Possibly longer – it’s difficult to tell.’
Steve shivered.
‘Cold, darling?’
She nodded without speaking and they were both silent for some minutes.
‘Steve,’ said Temple at length.
‘Yes, darling?’
‘I’m—I’m terribly sorry about this business.’
‘Don’t be silly, Paul.’ She tried to smile bravely. ‘It…it just can’t be helped…that’s all.’
Once again there was a long pause.
‘There’s nothing we can do, I’m afraid, except wait.’
‘I suppose this room is on the side of the lake,’ Steve speculated.
‘Yes,’ murmured Temple thoughtfully. ‘It must be.’ He took Steve’s hand in his. ‘It’s funny, you know, I’ve often wondered how people reacted under circumstances like this; it’s all so very unreal, and yet—’ He hesitated. ‘What is it, dear?’
‘Nothing,’ said Steve. ‘I was just thinking – that’s all.’ There was a suspicious catch in her voice.
‘Thinking?’ repeated Temple, rather puzzled.
‘Do you remember that first summer, darling?’
‘Capri?’
‘Yes – Capri. The blue sky…the gay little houses…the crazy little steamer…and the donkey.’
‘Ah yes, the donkey,’ Temple smiled reminiscently. ‘A stubborn fellow at the best of times.’
He squeezed her hand. ‘I’m sorry I landed you in this mess, darling.’
‘It’s…nothing,’ said Steve, but there was a catch in her voice.
Suddenly Temple jumped off the table and crossed over to the door. He was both annoyed and irritated.
‘Good God!’ he cried in angry tones. ‘We’re talking as if the whole business were over and we were finished! We got ourselves into this, and we’re going to get out of it.’
‘It’s no use, Paul,’ said Steve, watching him throw his weight against the door.
But Temple still persisted. After awhile he rejoined her.
‘I’m afraid the door is hopeless,’ he declared gloomily. Then brightened a little. ‘We might be able to stop the water, though.’ He took off his coat, folded it into the smallest possible compass, and taking a chair, managed to wedge the garment into one of the ventilator grids. This reduced the flow considerably, but the water continued to rush through the other grid at an alarming rate.
‘We shall hold out a little longer, at any rate,’ he said.
Steve took off the coat of the costume she was wearing, and was about to follow her husband’s example when she suddenly paused.
‘Paul!’ she cried suddenly.
‘What is it?’
‘Didn’t you hear anything?’
‘No,’ he replied rather diffidently; he was concentrating on the flow of water. ‘I don’t think that coat of yours—’
‘Paul—listen!’
They stood silent for a minute.
At first they could hear only the steady gush of water, then very faintly, almost like a distant echo, came the muffled voice of Sir Graham Forbes.
‘Temple! Where are you, Temple?’
Desperately, Paul Temple turned towards the door.
‘My God! It’s Forbes! We’ve got to make him hear us, Steve.’ For all they knew, Sir Graham might be at the other end of the house, and the water was rising rapidly.
‘We’ll have to be quick, darling!’
As Temple paused to regain his breath, he noticed that above the door was an old-fashioned fanlight, heavily smeared with dust and paint. It was so dirty as to be almost indistinguishable. Without another moment’s hesitation, Temple seized a chair, and there was the sudden shattering of thick glass.
‘Darling, you’ve cut yourself!’ cried Steve in alarm.
‘No, I’m all right,’ he answered.
‘Where the devil are you, Temple?’ It was Forbes shouting and the voice sounded much nearer.
‘We’re at the end of the corridor,’ cried Temple. ‘For God’s sake, be quick!’
There was a sound of footsteps running along the stone passage, and Steve gave a sigh of relief.
‘Stand away from the door!’ shouted Forbes.
‘Stand back, Steve!’ said Temple, taking her arm.
Several heavy blows fell on the door, and finally the panel splintered. Through the aperture they could see Forbes swinging a huge coal hammer and dealing heavy blows on the lock. As the lock gave way there was a rush of water which nearly swept the Chief Commissioner off his feet. The three of them managed to stagger up the stairs and out into the entrance hall.
‘What’s been going on here?’ demanded Forbes, shaking himself.
‘We’ll explain later,’ said Temple excitedly. ‘Did you get any of them?’
‘Yes,’ replied Forbes, ‘we arrested Ben and Iris Archer.’
‘Iris?’
‘Yes, she was in a car at the High Moorford junction – obviously waiting to pick him up.’
‘Come on, Sir Graham – let’s get back,’ said Temple urgently.
A few moments later several Highland shepherds were more than a little mystified to see a hatless young man in shirt sleeves driving a car across the moors in a manner that completely ignored the existence of speed limits.
4
Iris Archer was making a bold attempt to conceal her annoyance. It had been irritating enough to be confined in the single cell of the local police station for a couple of hours with Ben as a companion, but she preferred even that to her present prospect of facing a battery of questions from Temple and Forbes. They were in Temple’s room at the ‘Royal Gate’, a room with which Iris was by now quite familiar.
‘Really, I can’t for the life of me think what this is all about,’ she said crossly, by way of opening the conversation.
‘Sit down, Iris,’ said Temple quietly, and, catching his level glance, she subsided. But, unlike Ben, Iris was quite calm.
‘You’ve got nothing on me!’ Ben shouted. ‘I don’t know anything – about anything.’
‘You sound very helpful, I must say,’ retorted Forbes grimly.
Paul Temple smiled.
‘Where have they taken Hardwick?’ he said.
‘I don’t know!’ Suddenly Ben lost his temper. ‘I don’t know what the ’ell all this is about!’
‘You soon will, my friend,’ said Temple imperturbably.
‘Where have they taken Hardwick?’ Forbes repeated the question in rather a more businesslike tone.
‘For God’s sake don’t keep on asking me the same ruddy questions!’ cried Ben almost hysterically. He was about to continue, but the door opened quietly, and he hesitated.
Dr Ludwig Steiner stood in the doorway.
Instinctively all eyes turned towards the newcomer. Temple watched Ben and Iris very carefully, but they betrayed no sign of recognition.
‘I am given to understand that you want to see me, Mr Temple,’ said Steiner slowly.
‘Yes, of course. Come in, Doctor.’
Then for the first time they saw that Rex Bryant was behind the Doctor’s ample figure.
‘Ah! Come in, Rex,’ Temple invited.
‘I hope I’m not intruding,’ said Bryant with rather unusual politeness. ‘But Steve said th
at you wanted a word with me.’
Forbes took the doctor’s arm and led him over to where Iris was sitting.
‘Doctor Steiner, is this the young lady who was with Mr Temple when—’
‘Why, yes!’ cried Steiner quickly. ‘But of course—’
Iris looked at him impudently, then with a slight shrug turned away.
‘Have you seen this man before, Doctor?’ continued Forbes, indicating Ben.
Steiner wrinkled his brow. ‘Why, no – not that I am aware of,’ he said.
‘What about you, Bryant?’ queried Forbes, turning to Rex.
Rex paused a moment before answering. ‘No, I haven’t seen him before.’
‘You’ve seen Iris Archer before, naturally?’ Forbes persisted.
Rex grinned. ‘I was once a dramatic critic for one night,’ he recalled. ‘And I’m afraid Miss Archer was one of my—er— victims. I should like to take this opportunity of apologising.’
He gave a polite bow, but Iris completely ignored him.
‘Mr Richmond, you must forgive me,’ Steiner interposed, ‘but I am afraid I do not understand—’
‘My name is not Richmond, sir,’ said Forbes brusquely. ‘It’s Forbes – Sir Graham Forbes of Scotland Yard.’
‘Scotland Yard,’ repeated Steiner thoughtfully, rolling the consonants with undue emphasis. ‘That explains a great deal.’
‘It doesn’t explain what the ’ell I’m doing here,’ Ben snarled.
‘I think you have a pretty good idea about that,’ said Temple, regarding him intently.
‘Look here, Paul, this is getting beyond a joke—’ Iris was beginning to protest, when Temple interrupted her in a tone that was unduly ruthless for him.
‘I’m inclined to agree, Iris – it is beyond a joke. A man was killed yesterday near Skellyfore.’
‘I don’t know what on earth you’re talking about,’ she replied coldly.
The door opened rather suddenly to reveal Mrs Weston. She was holding a telegram.
‘I’ll take it, Mrs Weston,’ said Sir Graham.
‘It’s addressed to someone called Forbes,’ she pointed, out. ‘I told the boy we hadn’t anybody of that name staying ’ere, but the cheeky young monkey wouldn’t wait.’
‘That’s all right, Mrs Weston,’ nodded Forbes quickly, and almost closed the door himself. There was a silence while Forbes rapidly tore open the flimsy envelope. After he had read the message he looked up. His gaze was directed at Ben.
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