9
Elvira Blake looked up at the sky, noted that it was a fine morning and went into a telephone box. She dialled Bridget's number in Onslow Square. Satisfied by the response, she said, "Hello? Bridget?"
"Oh Elvira, is that you?" Bridget's voice sounded agitated.
"Yes. Has everything been all right?"
"Oh no. It's been awful. Your cousin, Mrs. Melford, rang up Mummy yesterday afternoon."
"What, about me?"
"Yes. I thought I'd done it so well when I rang her up at lunchtime. But it seems she got worried about your teeth. Thought there might be something really wrong with them. Abscesses or something. So she rang up the dentist herself and found, of course, that you'd never been there at all. So then she rang up Mummy and unfortunately Mummy was right there by the telephone. So I couldn't get there first. And naturally Mummy said she didn't know anything about it, and that you certainly weren't staying here. I didn't know what to do."
"What did you do?"
"Pretended I knew nothing about it. I did say that I thought you'd said something about going to see some friends at Wimbledon."
"Why Wimbledon?"
"It was the first place came into my head."
Elvira sighed. "Oh well, I suppose I'll have to cook up something. An old governess, perhaps, who lives at Wimbledon. All this fussing does make things so complicated. I hope Cousin Mildred doesn't make a real fool of herself and ring up the police or something like that?"
"Are you going down there now?"
"Not till this evening. I've got a lot to do first."
"You got to Ireland. Was it-all right?"
"I found out what I wanted to know."
"You sound-sort of grim."
"I'm feeling grim."
"Can't I help you, Elvira? Do anything?"
"Nobody can help me really… It's a thing I have to do myself. I hoped something wasn't true, but it is true. I don't know quite what to do about it."
"Are you in danger, Elvira?"
"Don't be melodramatic, Bridget. I'll have to be careful that's all. I'll have to be very careful."
"Then you are in danger."
Elvira said after a moment's pause, "I expect I'm just imagining things, that's all."
"Elvira, what are you going to do about that bracelet?"
"Oh, that's all right. I've arranged to get some money from someone, so I can go and-what's the word?-redeem it. Then just take it back to Bollards."
"D'you think they'll be all right about it?… No, Mummy, it's just the laundry. They say we never sent that sheet. Yes, Mummy, yes, I'll tell the manageress. All right then."
At the other end of the line Elvira grinned and put down the receiver. She opened her purse, sorted through her money, counted out the coins she needed and arranged them in front of her and proceeded to put through a call. When she got the number she wanted she put in the necessary coins, pressed Button A and spoke in a small rather breathless voice.
"Hello, Cousin Mildred. Yes, it's me… I'm terribly sorry… Yes, I know… well I was going to… yes it was dear old Maddy, you know our old Mademoiselle… Yes, I wrote a postcard, then I forgot to post it. It's still in my pocket now… Well, you see she was ill and there was no one to look after her and so I just stopped to see she was all right. Yes, I was going to Bridget's but this changed things…. I don't understand about the message you got. Someone must have jumbled it up… yes, I'll explain it all to you when I get back… Yes, this afternoon. No, I shall just wait and see the nurse who's coming to look after old Maddy-well, not really a nurse. You know one of those-er-practical aid nurses or something like that. No, she would hate to go to hospital…. But I am sorry, Cousin Mildred, I really am very, very sorry." She put down the receiver and sighed in an exasperated manner. "If only," she murmured to herself, "one didn't have to tell so many lies to everybody."
She came out of the telephone box, noting as she did so the big newspaper placards: BIG TRAIN ROBBERY. IRISH MAIL ATTACKED BY BANDITS.
Mr. Bollard was serving a customer when the shop door opened. He looked up to see the Honourable Elvira Blake entering.
"No," she said to an assistant who came forward to her. "I'd rather wait until Mr. Bollard is free."
Presently Mr. Bollard's customer's business was concluded and Elvira moved into the vacant place.
"Good morning, Mr. Bollard," she said.
"I'm afraid your watch isn't done quite as soon as this, Miss Elvira," said Mr. Bollard.
"Oh, it's not the watch," said Elvira. "I've come to apologize. A dreadful thing happened." She opened her bag and took out a small box. From it she extracted the sapphire and diamond bracelet. "You will remember when I came in with my watch to be repaired that I was looking at things for a Christmas present and there was an accident outside in the street. Somebody was run over I think, or nearly run over. I suppose I must have had the bracelet in my hand and put it into the pocket of my suit without thinking, although I only found it this morning. So I rushed along at once to bring it back. I'm so terribly sorry, Mr. Bollard, I don't know how I came to do such an idiotic thing."
"Why, that's quite all right, Miss Elvira," said Mr. Bollard slowly.
"I suppose you thought someone had stolen it," said Elvira.
Her limpid blue eyes met his.
"We had discovered its loss," said Mr. Bollard. "Thank you very much, Miss Elvira, for bringing it back so promptly."
"I felt simply awful about it when I found it," said Elvira. "Well, thank you very much, Mr. Bollard, for being so nice about it."
"A lot of strange mistakes do occur," said Mr. Bollard. He smiled at her in an avuncular manner. "We won't think of it any more. But don't do it again, though." He laughed with the air of one making a genial little joke.
"Oh no," said Elvira, "I shall be terribly careful in future."
She smiled at him, turned and left the shop.
"Now I wonder," said Mr. Bollard to himself, "I really do wonder…
One of his partners, who had been standing near, moved nearer to him. "So she did take it?" he said.
"Yes. She took it all right," said Mr. Bollard.
"But she brought it back," his partner pointed out. "She brought it back," agreed Mr. Bollard. "I didn't actually expect that."
"You mean you didn't expect her to bring it back?"
"No, not if it was she who'd taken it."
"Do you think her story is true?" his partner inquired curiously. "I mean, that she slipped it into her pocket by accident?"
"I suppose it's possible," said Bollard thoughtfully.
"Or it could be kleptomania, I suppose."
"Or it could be kleptomania," agreed Bollard. "It's more likely that she took it on purpose… But if so, why did she bring it back so soon? It's curious-"
"Just as well we didn't notify the police. I admit I wanted to."
"I know, I know. You haven't got as much experience as I have. In this case, it was definitely better not." He added softly to himself, "The thing's interesting, though. Quite interesting. I wonder how old she is? Seventeen or eighteen, I suppose. She might have got herself in a jam of some kind."
"I thought you said she was rolling in money."
"You may be an heiress and rolling in money," said Bollard, "but at seventeen you can't always get your hands on it. The funny thing is, you know, they keep heiresses much shorter of cash than they keep the more impecunious. It's not always a good idea. Well, I don't suppose we shall ever know the truth of it."
He put the bracelet back in its place in the display case and shut down the lid.
10
The offices of Egerton, Forbes and Wilborough were in Bloomsbury, in one of those imposing and dignified squares which have as yet not felt the wind of change. Their brass plate was suitably worn down to illegibility. The firm had been going for over a hundred years and a good proportion of the landed gentry of England were their clients. There was no Forbes in the firm any more and no Wilboroughs. Instead the
re were Atkinsons, father and son, and a Welsh Lloyd and a Scottish MacAllister. There was, however, still an Egerton, descendant of the original Egerton. This particular Egerton was a man of fifty-two and he was adviser to several families which had in their day been advised by his grandfather, his uncle, and his father.
At this moment he was sitting behind a large mahogany desk in his handsome room on the first floor, speaking kindly but firmly to a dejected-looking client. Richard Egerton was a handsome man, tall, dark with a touch of grey at the temples and very shrewd grey eyes. His advice was always good advice, but he seldom minced his words.
"Quite frankly you haven't got a leg to stand upon, Freddie," he was saying. "Not with those letters you've written."
"You don't think-" Freddie murmured dejectedly. "No, I don't," said Egerton. "The only hope is to settle out of court. It might even be held that you've rendered yourself liable to criminal prosecution."
"Oh look here, Richard, that's carrying things a bit far."
There was a small discreet buzz on Egerton's desk. He picked up the telephone receiver with a frown.
"I thought I said I wasn't to be disturbed."
There was a murmur at the other end. Egerton said, "Oh. Yes-yes, I see. Ask her to wait, will you."
He replaced the receiver and turned once more to his unhappy-looking client.
"Look here, Freddie," he said, "I know the law and you don't. You're in a nasty jam. I'll do my best to get you out of it, but it's going to cost you a bit. I doubt if they'd settle for less than twelve thousand."
"Twelve thousand!" The unfortunate Freddie was aghast. "Oh, I say! I haven't got it, Richard."
"Well, you'll have to raise it then. There are always ways and means. If she'll settle for twelve thousand, you'll be lucky, and if you fight the case, it'll cost you a lot more."
"You lawyers!" said Freddie. "Sharks, all of you!" He rose to his feet. "Well," he said, "do your bloody best for me, Richard old boy."
He took his departure, shaking his head sadly. Richard Egerton put Freddie and his affairs out of his mind, and thought about his next client. He said softly to himself, "The Honourable Elvira Blake. I wonder what she's like…" He lifted his receiver. "Lord Frederick's gone. Send up Miss Blake, will you."
As he waited he made little calculations on his desk pad. How many years since-? She must be fifteen- seventeen-perhaps even more than that. Time went so fast. Coniston's daughter, he thought, and Bess's daughter. I wonder which of them she takes after?
The door opened, the clerk announced Miss Elvira Blake and the girl walked into the room. Egerton rose from his chair and came towards her. In appearance, he thought, she did not resemble either of her parents. Tall, slim, very fair, Bess's colouring but none of Bess's vitality, with an old-fashioned air about her; though that was difficult to be sure of, since the fashion in dress happened at the moment to be ruffles and baby bodices.
"Well, well," he said, as he shook hands with her. "This is a surprise. Last time I saw you, you were eleven years old. Come and sit here." He pulled forward a chair and she sat down.
"I suppose," said Elvira, a little uncertainly, "that I ought to have written first. Written and made an appointment. Something like that, but I really made up my mind very suddenly and it seemed an opportunity, since I was in London."
"And what are you doing in London?"
"Having my teeth seen to."
"Beastly things, teeth," said Egerton. "Give us trouble from the cradle to the grave. But I am grateful for the teeth, if it gives me an opportunity of seeing you. Let me see now; you've been in Italy, haven't you, finishing your education there at one of these places all girls go to nowadays?"
"Yes," said Elvira, "the Contessa Martinelli. But I've left there now for good. I'm living with the Melfords in Kent until I make up my mind if there's anything I'd like to do."
"Well, I hope you'll find something satisfactory. You're not thinking of a university or anything like that?"
"No," said Elvira, "I don't think I'd be clever enough for that." She paused before saying, "I suppose you'd have to agree to anything if I did want to do it?"
Egerton's keen eyes focused sharply.
"I am one of your guardians, and a trustee under your father's will, yes," he said. "Therefore, you have a perfect right to approach me at any time."
Elvira said "Thank you," politely.
"Is there anything worrying you?" Egerton asked.
"No. Not really. But you see, I don't know anything. Nobody's ever told me things. One doesn't always like to ask."
He looked at her attentively.
"You mean things about yourself?"
"Yes," said Elvira. "It's kind of you to understand. Uncle Derek-" She hesitated.
"Derek Luscombe, you mean?"
"Yes. I've always called him uncle."
"I see."
"He's very kind," said Elvira, "but he's not the sort of person who ever tells you anything. He just arranges things, and looks a little worried in case they mightn't be what I'd like. Of course he listens to a lot of people-women, I mean-who tell him things. Like Contessa Martinelli. He arranges for me to go to schools or to finishing places."
"And they haven't been where you wanted to go?"
"No, I didn't mean that. They've been quite all right. I mean they've been more or less where everyone else goes."
"I see."
"But I don't know anything about myself. I mean what money I've got, and how much, and what I could do with it if I wanted."
"In fact," said Egerton, with his attractive smile, "you want to talk business. Is that it? Well, I think you're quite right. Let's see. How old are you? Sixteen-seventeen?"
"I'm nearly twenty."
"Oh dear. I'd no idea."
"You see," explained Elvira, "I feel all the time that I'm being shielded and sheltered. It's nice in a way, but it can get very irritating."
"It's an attitude that's gone out of date," agreed Egerton, "but I can quite see that it would appeal to Derek Luscombe."
"He's a dear," said Elvira, "but very difficult, somehow, to talk to seriously."
"Yes, I can see that that might be so. Well, how much do you know about yourself, Elvira? About your family circumstances?"
"I know that my father died when I was five and that my mother had run away from him with someone when I was about two, I don't remember her at all. I barely remember my father. He was very old and had his leg up on a chair. He used to swear. I was rather scared of him. After he died I lived first with an aunt or a cousin or something of my father's, until she died, and then I lived with Uncle Derek and his sister. But then she died and I went to Italy. Uncle Derek has arranged for me, now, to live with the Melfords who are his cousins and very kind and nice and have two daughters about my age."
"You're happy there?"
"I don't know yet. I've barely got there. They're all very dull. I really wanted to know how much money I've got."
"So it's financial information you really want?"
"Yes," said Elvira. "I've got some money, I know. Is it a lot?"
Egerton was serious now. "Yes," he said. "You've got a lot of money. Your father was a very rich man. You were his only child. When he died, the title and the estate went to a cousin. He didn't like the cousin, so he left all his personal property, which was considerable, to his daughter-to you, Elvira. You're a very rich woman, or will be, when you are twentyone."
"You mean I am not rich now?"
"Yes," said Egerton, "you're rich now, but the money is not yours to dispose of until you are twentyone or marry. Until that time it is in the hands of your trustees. Luscombe, myself, and another." He smiled at her. "We haven't embezzled it or anything like that. It's still there. In fact, we've increased your capital considerably by investments."
"How much will I have?"
"At the age of twenty-one or upon your marriage, you will come into a sum which at a rough estimate would amount to six or seven hundred thousand pounds."<
br />
"That is a lot," said Elvira, impressed.
"Yes, it is a lot. Probably it is because it is such a lot that nobody has ever talked to you about it much."
He watched her as she reflected upon this. Quite an interesting girl, he thought. Looked an unbelievably milk-and-water Miss, but she was more than that. A good deal more. He said, with a faintly ironic smile, "Does that satisfy you?"
She gave him a sudden smile.
"It ought to, oughtn't it?"
"Rather better than winning the pools," he suggested.
She nodded, but her mind was elsewhere. Then she came out abruptly with a question.
"Who gets it if I die?"
"As things stand now, it would go to your next of kin."
"I mean-I couldn't make a will now, could I? Not until I was twenty-one. That's what someone told me."
"They were quite right."
"That's really rather annoying. If I was married and died, I suppose my husband would get the money?"
"Yes."
"And if I wasn't married, my mother would be my next of kin and get it. I really seem to have very few relations-I don't even know my mother. What is she like?"
"She's a very remarkable woman," said Egerton shortly. "Everybody would agree to that."
"Didn't she ever want to see me?"
"She may have done… I think it's very possible that she did. But having made in-certain ways- rather a mess of her own life, she may have thought that it was better for you that you should be brought up quite apart from her."
"Do you actually know that she thinks that?"
"No. I don't really know anything about it."
Elvira got up. "Thank you," she said. "It's very kind of you to tell me all this."
"I think perhaps you ought to have been told more about things before," said Egerton.
"It's rather humiliating not to know things," said Elvira. "Uncle Derek, of course, thinks I'm just a child."
"Well, he's not a very young man himself. He and I, you know, are well advanced in years. You must make allowances for us when we look at things from the point of view of our advanced age."
At Bertram's Hotel mm-12 Page 7
