Partners in Crime (4 page)

‘I wonder,’ he said gently, ‘who it was who had a teaspoon in her muff?’

‘Just what I was thinking,’ replied Tuppence.

Mrs Betts, followed by her husband, burst into the room. She was a big woman with a determined voice. Mr Hamilton Betts looked dyspeptic and subdued.

‘I understand, Mr Blunt, that you are a private inquiry agent, and one who hustles things through at a great rate?’

‘Hustle,’ said Tommy, ‘is my middle name, Mrs Betts. Let me ask you a few questions.’

Thereafter things proceeded rapidly. Tommy was shown the damaged pendant, the table on which it had lain, and Mr Betts emerged from his taciturnity to mention the value, in dollars, of the stolen pearl.

And withal, Tommy felt an irritating certainty that he was not getting on.

‘I think that will do,’ he said, at length. ‘Miss Robinson, will you kindly fetch the special photographic apparatus from the hall?’

Miss Robinson complied.

‘A little invention of my own,’ said Tommy. ‘In appearance, you see, it is just like an ordinary camera.’

He had some slight satisfaction in seeing that the Betts were impressed.

He photographed the pendant, the table on which it had lain, and took several general views of the apartment. Then ‘Miss Robinson’ was delegated to interview the servants, and in view of the eager expectancy on the faces of Colonel Kingston Bruce and Mrs Betts, Tommy felt called upon to say a few authoritative words.

‘The position amounts to this,’ he said. ‘Either the pearl is still in the house, or it is not still in the house.’

‘Quite so,’ said the Colonel with more respect than was, perhaps, quite justified by the nature of the remark.

‘If it is not in the house, it may be anywhere–but if it is in the house, it must necessarily be concealed somewhere –’

‘And a search must be made,’ broke in Colonel Kingston Bruce. ‘Quite so. I give you carte blanche, Mr Blunt. Search the house from attic to cellar.’

‘Oh! Charles,’ murmured Mrs Kingston Bruce tearfully, ‘do you think that is wise? The servants won’t
like
it. I’m sure they’ll leave.’

‘We will search their quarters last,’ said Tommy soothingly. ‘The thief is sure to have hidden the gem in the most unlikely place.’

‘I seem to have read something of the kind,’ agreed the Colonel.

‘Quite so,’ said Tommy. ‘You probably remember the case of Rex v Bailey, which created a precedent.’

‘Oh–er–yes,’ said the Colonel, looking puzzled.

‘Now, the most unlikely place is in the apartment of Mrs Betts,’ continued Tommy.

‘My! Wouldn’t that be too cute?’ said Mrs Betts admiringly.

Without more ado she took him up to her room, where Tommy once more made use of the special photographic apparatus.

Presently Tuppence joined him there.

‘You have no objection, I hope, Mrs Betts, to my assistant’s looking through your wardrobe?’

‘Why, not at all. Do you need me here any longer?’

Tommy assured her that there was no need to detain her, and Mrs Betts departed.

‘We might as well go on bluffing it out,’ said Tommy. ‘But personally I don’t believe we’ve a dog’s chance of finding the thing. Curse you and your twenty-four hours’ stunt, Tuppence.’

‘Listen,’ said Tuppence. ‘The servants are all right, I’m sure, but I managed to get something out of the French maid. It seems that when Lady Laura was staying here a year ago, she went out to tea with some friends of the Kingston Bruces, and when she got home a teaspoon fell out of her muff. Everyone thought it must have fallen in by accident. But, talking about similar robberies, I got hold of a lot more. Lady Laura is always staying about with people. She hasn’t got a bean, I gather, and she’s out for comfortable quarters with people to whom a title still means something. It may be a coincidence–or it may be something more, but five distinct thefts have taken place whilst she has been staying in various houses, sometimes trivial things, sometimes valuable jewels.’

‘Whew!’ said Tommy, and gave vent to a prolonged whistle. ‘Where’s the old bird’s room, do you know?’

‘Just across the passage.’

‘Then I think, I rather think, that we’ll just slip across and investigate.’

The room opposite stood with its door ajar. It was a spacious apartment, with white enamelled fitments and rose pink curtains. An inner door led to a bathroom. At the door of this appeared a slim, dark girl, very neatly dressed.

Tuppence checked the exclamation of astonishment on the girl’s lips.

‘This is Elise, Mr Blunt,’ she said primly. ‘Lady Laura’s maid.’

Tommy stepped across the threshold of the bathroom, and approved inwardly its sumptuous and up-to-date fittings. He set to work to dispel the wide stare of suspicion on the French girl’s face.

‘You are busy with your duties, eh, Mademoiselle Elise?’

‘Yes, Monsieur, I clean Milady’s bath.’

‘Well, perhaps you’ll help me with some photography instead. I have a special kind of camera here, and I am photographing the interiors of all the rooms in this house.’

He was interrupted by the communicating door to the bedroom banging suddenly behind him. Elise jumped at the sound.

‘What did that?’

‘It must have been the wind,’ said Tuppence.

‘We will come into the other room,’said Tommy.

Elise went to open the door for them, but the door knob rattled aimlessly.

‘What’s the matter?’ said Tommy sharply.

‘Ah, Monsieur, but somebody must have locked it on the other side.’ She caught up a towel and tried again. But this time the door handle turned easily enough, and the door swung open.

‘
Voila` ce qui est curieux
. It must have been stuck,’ said Elise.

There was no one in the bedroom.

Tommy fetched his apparatus. Tuppence and Elise worked under his orders. But again and again his glance went back to the communicating door.

‘I wonder,’ he said between his teeth–‘I wonder why that door stuck?’

He examined it minutely, shutting and opening it. It fitted perfectly.

‘One picture more,’ he said with a sigh. ‘Will you loop back that rose curtain, Mademoiselle Elise? Thank you. Just hold it so.’

The familiar click occurred. He handed a glass slide to Elise to hold, relinquished the tripod to Tuppence, and carefully readjusted and closed the camera.

He made some easy excuse to get rid of Elise, and as soon as she was out of the room, he caught hold of Tuppence and spoke rapidly.

‘Look here, I’ve got an idea. Can you hang on here? Search all the rooms–that will take some time. Try and get an interview with the old bird–Lady Laura–but don’t alarm her. Tell her you suspect the parlourmaid. But whatever you do don’t let her leave the house. I’m going off in the car. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

‘All right,’ said Tuppence. ‘But don’t be too cock-sure. You’ve forgotten one thing.

‘The girl. There’s something funny about that girl. Listen, I’ve found out the time she started from the house this morning. It took her two hours to get to our office. That’s nonsense. Where did she go before she came to us?’

‘There’s something in that,’ admitted her husband. ‘Well, follow up any old clue you like, but don’t let Lady Laura leave the house. What’s that?’

His quick ear had caught a faint rustle outside on the landing. He strode across to the door, but there was no one to be seen.

‘Well, so long,’ he said, ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

II

Tuppence watched him drive off in the car with a faint misgiving. Tommy was very sure–she herself was not so sure. There were one or two things she did not quite understand.

She was still standing by the window, watching the road, when she saw a man leave the shelter of a gateway opposite, cross the road and ring the bell.

In a flash Tuppence was out of the room and down the stairs. Gladys Hill, the parlourmaid, was emerging from the back part of the house, but Tuppence motioned her back authoritatively. Then she went to the front door and opened it.

A lanky young man with ill-fitting clothes and eager dark eyes was standing on the step.

He hesitated a moment, and then said:

‘Is Miss Kingston Bruce in?’

‘Will you come inside?’ said Tuppence.

She stood aside to let him enter, closing the door.

‘Mr Rennie, I think?’ she said sweetly.

He shot a quick glance at her.

‘Er–yes.’

‘Will you come in here, please?’

She opened the study door. The room was empty, and Tuppence entered it after him, closing the door behind her. He turned on her with a frown.

‘I want to see Miss Kingston Bruce.’

‘I am not quite sure that you can,’ said Tuppence composedly.

‘Look here, who the devil are you?’ said Mr Rennie rudely.

‘International Detective Agency,’ said Tuppence succinctly–and noticed Mr Rennie’s uncontrollable start.

‘Please sit down, Mr Rennie,’ she went on. ‘To begin with, we know all about Miss Kingston Bruce’s visit to you this morning.’

It was a bold guess, but it succeeded. Perceiving his consternation, Tuppence went on quickly.

‘The recovery of the pearl is the great thing, Mr Rennie. No one in this house is anxious for–publicity. Can’t we come to some arrangement?’

The young man looked at her keenly.

‘I wonder how much you know,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Let me think for a moment.’

He buried his head in his hands–then asked a most unexpected question.

‘I say, is it really true that young St Vincent is engaged to be married?’

‘Quite true,’ said Tuppence. ‘I know the girl.’

Mr Rennie suddenly became confidential.

‘It’s been hell,’ he confided. ‘They’ve been asking her morning, noon and night–chucking Beatrice at his head. All because he’ll come into a title some day. If I had my way –’

‘Don’t let’s talk politics,’ said Tuppence hastily. ‘Do you mind telling me, Mr Rennie, why you think Miss Kingston Bruce took the pearl?’

‘I–I don’t.’

‘You do,’ said Tuppence calmly. ‘You wait to see the detective, as you think, drive off and the coast clear, and then you come and ask for her. It’s obvious. If you’d taken the pearl yourself, you wouldn’t be half so upset.’

‘Her manner was so odd,’ said the young man. ‘She came this morning and told me about the robbery, explaining that she was on her way to a firm of private detectives. She seemed anxious to say something, and yet not able to get it out.’

‘Well,’ said Tuppence. ‘All I want is the pearl. You’d better go and talk to her.’

But at that moment Colonel Kingston Bruce opened the door.

‘Lunch is ready, Miss Robinson. You will lunch with us, I hope. The –’

Then he stopped and glared at the guest.

‘Clearly,’ said Mr Rennie, ‘you don’t want to ask me to lunch. All right, I’ll go.’

‘Come back later,’ whispered Tuppence, as he passed her.

Tuppence followed Colonel Kingston Bruce, still growling into his moustache about the pestilential impudence of some people, into a massive dining-room where the family was already assembled. Only one person present was unknown to Tuppence.

‘This, Lady Laura, is Miss Robinson, who is kindly assisting us.’

Lady Laura bent her head, and then proceeded to stare at Tuppence through her pince-nez. She was a tall, thin woman, with a sad smile, a gentle voice, and very hard shrewd eyes. Tuppence returned her stare, and Lady Laura’s eyes dropped.

After lunch Lady Laura entered into conversation with an air of gentle curiosity. How was the inquiry proceeding? Tuppence laid suitable stress on the suspicion attaching to the parlourmaid, but her mind was not really on Lady Laura. Lady Laura might conceal teaspoons and other articles in her clothing, but Tuppence felt fairly sure that she had not taken the pink pearl.

Presently Tuppence proceeded with her search of the house. Time was going on. There was no sign of Tommy, and, what mattered far more to Tuppence, there was no sign of Mr Rennie. Suddenly Tuppence came out of a bedroom and collided with Beatrice Kingston Bruce, who was going downstairs. She was fully dressed for the street.

‘I’m afraid,’ said Tuppence, ‘that you mustn’t go out just now.’

The other girl looked at her haughtily.

‘Whether I go out or not is no business of yours,’ she said coldly.

‘It is my business whether I communicate with the police or not, though,’ said Tuppence.

In a minute the girl had turned ashy pale.

‘You mustn’t–you mustn’t–I won’t go out–but don’t do that.’ She clung to Tuppence beseechingly.

‘My dear Miss Kingston Bruce,’ said Tuppence, smiling, ‘the case has been perfectly clear to me from the start–I –’

But she was interrupted. In the stress of her encounter with the girl, Tuppence had not heard the front-door bell. Now, to her astonishment, Tommy came bounding up the stairs, and in the hall below she caught sight of a big burly man in the act of removing a bowler hat.

‘Detective Inspector Marriot of Scotland Yard,’ he said with a grin.

With a cry, Beatrice Kingston Bruce tore herself from Tuppence’s grasp and dashed down the stairs, just as the front door was opened once more to admit Mr Rennie.

‘Now you
have
torn it,’ said Tuppence bitterly.

‘Eh?’ said Tommy, hurrying into Lady Laura’sroom. He passed on into the bathroom and picked up a large cake of soap which he brought out in his hands. The Inspector was just mounting the stairs.

‘She went quite quietly,’ he announced. ‘She’s an old hand and knows when the game is up. What about the pearl?’

‘I rather fancy,’ said Tommy, handing him the soap, ‘that you’ll find it in here.’

The Inspector’s eyes lit up appreciatively.

‘An old trick, and a good one. Cut a cake of soap in half, scoop out a place for the jewel, clap it together again, and smooth the join well over with hot water. A very smart piece of work on your part, sir.’

Tommy accepted the compliment gracefully. He and Tuppence descended the stairs. Colonel Kingston Bruce rushed at him and shook him warmly by the hand.

‘My dear sir, I can’t thank you enough. Lady Laura wants to thank you also –’

‘I am glad we have given you satisfaction,’ said Tommy. ‘But I’m afraid I can’t stop. I have a most urgent appointment. Member of the Cabinet.’