by John Creasey
“I may even hold you to that,” said Bristow. “Do you know of anyone among the guests, who is particularly interested in jewels?”
“Every woman present, for a start,” said Mannering, laughing. “That reminds me, can you dine with us?”
“Can’t offend the local chappy, otherwise I’d have loved to. There’s just one thing, John.”
“Yes?” said Mannering. He could not prevent his voice from hardening a little.
“Don’t try to investigate on your own, will you?” said Bristow.
“Nothing was further from my thoughts. I’m an invalid, not a private detective.”
“I just wanted to make sure,” said Bristow. “I’d better go downstairs now. Are you coming?”
“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” Mannering answered.
He went with Bristow to the door, then returned to the room. He looked meaningly at Lorna, and put his finger to his lips, then hurried across the room and pulled open the tall-boy.
His clothes were undisturbed.
He went down on his hands and knees and peered under the bed again, but there was no sign of anyone. Only the wardrobe, which Lorna had opened, could possibly hide an intruder. As he looked at it his glance sharpened. Was it his imagination, or was the door moving?
Lorna’s eyes followed the direction of his gaze. They stood rigidly, side by side, waiting, watching. Slowly, slowly the door opened and from the wardrobe stepped a man, smaller than average, thin, middle-aged. He was smiling.
He turned to Lorna. “Good-evening, Mrs Mannering. I do hope I have not alarmed you.”
He closed the wardrobe door gently behind him.
Chapter Three
Mr Diver Makes an Offer
“I do hope you are not going to stand on ceremony,” the stranger, went on pleasantly. “I have been at great pains to make this interview confidential.”
“So it seems,” Mannering’s voice was dry, and matter-of-fact. “The question is, whether we want the interview. It’s past eight o’clock, and we’re hungry.”
“I assure you I won’t keep you long.”
“It could be a question of how long we shall detain you” Mannering murmured gently. He looked at his wrist-watch. “You can have five minutes in which to explain yourself.” He pushed a chair forward for Lorna.
“Five minutes isn’t much,” said the stranger, “but perhaps I shall be able to persuade you to extend my allowance!” He gave a little, characterless laugh.
Mannering made no comment.
“My name is Diver” went on the little man. “Saul Diver.” He peered at Mannering as if hoping the name would strike a chord. “I have worked for a great number of people, including, if I may say so, friends and business associates of yours.” He gave his nervous giggle again. “I know what a fine reputation you have, what a wonderful judge you are of precious stones.”
Lorna glanced quickly at Mannering, and then away.
“It is in that connection I have called on you, Mr Mannering. I have knowledge of two diamonds, beautiful, incomparable gems. I think you—er—might be interested. I wouldn’t bother you unless they were exceptional stones.”
“I buy my stones through legitimate trade channels,” said Mannering woodenly.
“But naturally! I understand that. I am authorised to act as selling agent only. The stones are legitimately for sale. I hope you won’t misunderstand my—er—somewhat unorthodox means of introduction!”
Mannering glanced at his watch again. “It would be unreasonable to object to any reservations I might make on that score. And your five minutes is up, Mr Diver.”
“Please!” Diver raised a hand, appealingly. “Do not be hasty, do not refuse to see these stones. They are of the fine quality. It is true that I don’t want the police to see me.” He shrugged. “Once I was in trouble, and though I’ve run straight for years, they never forget a face. After last night’s burglary what chance would I have?” He shrugged again.
“Where are the two diamonds?” Mannering asked.
“Then you are interested!”
“I might be.”
“I was sure you would be reasonable,” said Diver. “The diamonds are with their owner, Mr Montagu Dell. Have you met Mr Dell?”
“No,” said Mannering. He shot Lorna a startled glance.
It did not go unobserved, but almost at once the little man went on smoothly: “He lives at Dacres – have you seen the house?”
“No.”
“Dear me,” said Diver. “You haven’t been about Larmouth very much, have you? Dacres is known as one of the finest houses near Larmouth. May I tell you Mr Montagu Dell you will call tonight?”
“No,” said Mannering, for the third time.
Diver’s face dropped.
“But—”
“If Mr Dell cares to come here with the diamonds I’ll see him,” said Mannering. “He’ll be wise to telephone for an appointment, I haven’t much free time and I don’t expect to be here more than a few days. Had he replied to my letter, you would have been saved this rather unorthodox interview. Now, dinner! Which way did you come in?”
“There are so many doors,” said Diver, plaintively. “Mr Mannering, can I ask you to reconsider? Mr Dell is an eccentric, he has been scared by the news of the burglary here last night. I feel sure he won’t leave his house with the diamonds. He’s too old and frail, for the physical effort. Won’t you change your mind?”
“Why tonight?” asked Mannering.
“He is so anxious to meet you, and time is precious to him, you understand. He counted on your sympathy to the point of putting a car at your disposal, Mr Mannering, a Daimler which will be outside at nine-thirty.”
Mannering laughed.
“I have, then, succeeded in my plea that you should change your mind?” said Diver earnestly.
Mannering said: “You might have done, and that’s my last word for now. Going out by the door or the window?”
With a nod towards the door, Diver sidled towards it, and slipped out. The door closed without a sound.
Mannering smoothed down his hair and looked, almost apologetically, at Lorna.
“We can’t complain that life’s dull now,” he said.
“You won’t be such a fool as to go,” urged Lorna.
Mannering studied his finger nails. “It would be interesting to find out whether there are two diamonds for sale or whether Mr Montagu Dell wants me for some other reason.”
“I didn’t trust Diver,” Lorna looked at him levelly. Her smile was kind, but a little sad. “You’re in a mood when you’ll do anything for excitement,” she said. “The robbery lit the spark in you again. Bristow added to it and Diver put the final touch.” She waited for him to deny it, and then, as the pause lengthened, gave a little sigh and took his arm. “Let’s go down to dinner. We’ll talk about this afterwards.”
Most of the guests had already left the dining-room. A waiter led them to their table and offered advice as to food.
Mannering and Loma settled their order, then talked brightly of a dozen things. As she finished her coffee, her bantering, pleasantly social voice changed.
“Well,” she said. “What are you going to do?”
“See Bristow.”
“About Diver?”
“And Montagu Dell,” said Mannering. “Mysterious journeys about the countryside are too suggestive to be indulged without the approval of the police – in these circumstances.” He took out a cigarette, deliberately prolonging the lighting of it. “There is no reason why I shouldn’t lend a helping hand. Mr Diver and the burglary might not be connected, but on the other hand, they might. Approved?”
“It sounds plausible,” said Lorna. “Too much so to be entirely trustworthy. How will you contact Bristow?”
“I understand that he’s in the hotel at this moment, questioning the guests,” said Mannering. “Though why he is going to such trouble is one of the questions I can’t answer – yet. He may have seen a name on the list
that interests him, and work the long way round to allay suspicion.”
“Yes,” said Lorna grimly. “That would be like him.”
It was then half-past nine. A word to the waiter sent him hurrying away and brought Lloyd marching towards them. Yes, Superintendent Bristow was in a room on the first floor.
“Will you telephone him for me and tell him that I’ll be up in five minutes? … Thanks very much.”
Mannering took Lorna into the small lounge, and went upstairs. He found Bristow in deep conversation with Mount. It ceased abruptly as he looked up.
“Well, John, have you solved it for us?”
“Not quite,” said Mannering, cheerfully. “I can’t take your bread-and-butter away from you.” He sat down in an easy chair and smiled across at Mount. “I had a visitor after you left.
“You had a visitor before I left,” said Bristow. “I saw the wardrobe door close.” He chuckled, delighted because Mannering was put out of countenance, then went on: “Your slipper hunt was almost convincing!”
“I apologise,” said Mannering, “and humbly acknowledge the presence of a Master.”
“That’s good of you,” said Bristow.
“Well, yes, I thought it was rather generous myself. How’s this for a story?”
Mount made notes in speedy shorthand as Mannering talked. Bristow listened without interruption.
“So it seems to me,” finished Mannering, “that it’s almost too much of a coincidence, and it might be helpful if I saw Mr Dell, who is, by the way, a collector of jewels. Do you know him?”
“No,” said Bristow. “Not under that name.”
“Does Diver mean anything?”
“From the description he might be Edgy Low,” said Bristow, thoughtfully. “We know Edgy well enough.”
“Cat burglar, specialising in hotels, working the holiday resorts in the season and the big inland towns during the winter,” intoned Mount.
“Why do you want to see Dell?” asked Bristow.
“I’d already written to him to enquire about some jewels I’d like to buy. He is a dealer you know. He might offer me the pickings of last night’s robbery, too! So I’ve a double chance of getting something I want. Would you rather look him up yourself?”
Bristow shook his head. “That would be the surest way to scare him – if he’s our man. But I’ve no objection to you going.”
Mannering grinned. “Thanks.”
Lorna was waiting for him in the hall. Slipping into mackintoshes they went out into a fine drizzle of rain. In the hazy light from the moon they saw the outlines of a Daimler, at the end of the line. As Mannering approached it the chauffeur alighted and held open the door. “Mr Mannering, sir?”
“Yes,” said Mannering. “I’m afraid I’m late.”
“I was told you might come any time after half-past nine.” The chauffeur was a small, stocky man, in peak cap and uniform. He tucked a rug round their knees, and took the wheel.
Mannering looked through the rear window. Light was blazing from the main entrance of the hotel, and a figure appeared hurrying down the steps. It was Mount. A small car started off a few seconds after the Daimler, which purred with quiet power along the road. They drove through the crowded main streets then up the hill high above Larmouth; in daylight, it commanded a fine view of the sea. Soon they left the popular residential quarter. Only a few large houses stood in their own grounds on either side.
They turned into a drive, and the headlights shone on a well-kept lawn and a few tall trees, then on a large and imposing house. The car pulled up smoothly, and as they climbed out the front door was opened by a footman, in livery.
“Good-evening, Madam. Good-evening, Sir.” He ushered them into a vast hall. Then up a wide, and rather handsome staircase.
The silence, the crowding of expensive, ill-assorted furniture had a museum-like quality which chilled Lorna. Reaching the first landing, the footman led the way to a door on the right; here, murmuring that Mr Dell was expecting them. Yet the room beyond was empty. It was small, barely-furnished, the only remarkable thing being the quality of the etchings on the wall.
As the door closed behind them another facing them opened, and a young man appeared. He gave them a friendly, but nervous smile. “Mr Dell is waiting,” he said, and stood aside for them to enter the sanctum sanctorum of the mysterious Mr Dell.
Chapter Four
Mr Montagu Dell
A little old man rose from before a great, flat-topped desk. His white hair shone beneath a powerful light which threw his face into shadow until he stood upright. Then he was seen to have eyes of a peculiarly limpid blue; a child’s eyes. The room was vast. He, and his desk, were lost in it. Judging by the size, and the six glittering chandeliers it had been designed as a ballroom.
“How good of you to come, Mr Mannering. I am so glad that you brought your wife.” He shook hands, bowing to Lorna. “You must forgive me for many things, I am afraid. My failure to answer your letter and, of course, the nature of my emissary.” That amused him. “He happened to be here on business, and said that he knew you by sight. I had a feeling that you would be intrigued by him.”
“I was,” said Mannering, dryly.
“Splendid!” Dell put a hand on an easy chair near the desk, a large and comfortable chair by normal standards, but lost in that room. “Please sit down, Mrs Mannering.” Indicating another chair for Mannering, he turned to a small table. “I hope you have not dined so well that a liqueur brandy will not appeal to you.
With thin, steady hands he poured out three glasses, then lifted the tray and carried it to Lorna. “Let me say at once that I have often heard of you, Mr Mannering, that I have always wanted to meet you, and that I am delighted that you are here.”
“Nice of you,” murmured Mannering.
“I am greatly indebted to you for coming,” said Dell. “I lead a secluded life but that does not mean that I do not keep myself abreast of current affairs. To meet the great John Mannering and the talented Mrs Mannering, whose paintings I have so often admired – that is real pleasure.”
“You’re very kind,” said Lorna.
“I do you less than justice.”
“Your messenger said that you had two diamonds for sale,” murmured Mannering.
Dell opened a drawer in the desk and took out a small, leather jewel case. “I might be persuaded to dispose of these, I believe you would be interested in them, Mr Mannering.”
He opened the case, and light seemed to spring from it. He stood up and handed the case to Lorna, who looked at two diamonds resting against black velvet, egg-shaped stones, unusual because of the cutting, but not large enough to be of great value.
“They’re beautiful,” murmured Lorna.
“Yes, beautiful; but trifles. As I said, I might be persuaded to dispose of them, but I would rather give them to a person beautiful enough for them to adorn. I am so very rich. Yet ought a man or a woman receive gifts without earning them?”
Lorna said: “I don’t understand you.”
“I know, I know,” said Dell, “and Mannering is trying very hard to understand me. He is inclined to think that he is in the presence of a harmless old man who is not quite right in the head! I do not disagree, though my word would be eccentric. So much kinder. However, I need not make mystery. I wanted to see you, Mr Mannering, because I believe you can help me. I know that you have on occasions helped the police, and suspect that you have sometimes helped other people, perhaps even in opposition to the police. Is that not so?”
“I think the conversation is getting a little out of hand,” said Mannering, pleasantly.
“If that is so you must forgive the way an old man’s mind wanders, Mr Mannering. A word, a fancy, takes one’s thoughts into unlikely realms. You are right to bring me back to the subject, wrong to take offence. But then, I am sure you have not. There was a robbery at the Royal Hotel last night, Mr Mannering.
“Yes,” said Mannering.
“Diver committe
d it,” said Dell.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” said Mannering. He was on the alert and very wary. The old man might be eccentric, but he was shrewd enough. Age had certainly not dulled his wits.
“He did it for me,” continued Dell, smiling gently.
Lorna closed the jewel case with a snap.
“But his mission failed,” Dell went on.
“I thought – from one point of view, certainly – that it was unusually successful,” said Mannering drily.
“You were not in possession of all the facts.” Dell assured him gently. “I am, as I have said before, a wealthy man. I am also, perhaps, a possessive one. What I have is mine. Everything in this house is mine, and there is much besides. I am jealous of it. I give much away, but still, there are some things I prize above all others. I am distressed and disturbed when I lose things which I prize. A year ago, I was robbed. My pride was wounded, and one thing which I value above all others was taken from me.”
He leaned forward.
“I know who stole it, Mr Mannering, or I think I know. One of five people who were my guests. Four of those five people, including the man whom I suspect, are now at the Royal. Perhaps you begin to understand.”
“Dimly,” said Mannering.
“You are too modest. I lost a diamond pendant I treasured greatly. I believed it to be in the possession of one of the guests at the Royal. I arranged to obtain all the jewellery there, with the object of examining it, selecting my own, and returning the rest, but—the pendant was not among the pieces which Diver obtained for me.”
After a pause, Mannering said: “I’m not normally sceptical Mr Dell.”
Dell smiled. “But in this case you are!”
“I shall give you evidence which will make you believe me, Mr Mannering. Every item of jewellery stolen from the Royal was returned to the police tonight, after you had left the hotel.” He waved his frail hand towards a telephone, and said: “You are free to enquire.”
Mannering said: “I would rather enquire later.”
“As you wish. You will find that I have told the truth. Yet I am sure that the pendant is at the Royal. I want it back. My first effort has failed. I must try again, and I want your help.”
