She Fell Among Thieves (25 page)

‘A car was to be in waiting from nine o’clock on. Her private suite was to be soused with petrol, and a train of sheets laid down to the postern-door. When this had been done, Esther was to visit Virginia, tire her head with one of those black silk hoods and set on her arm a bracelet belonging to Vanity Fair. She was then to bring her, by the system, into the private suite, give her a whiff of chloroform and, when she was down and out, pour a gallon of petrol over her clothes.’

‘My God,’ said I.

‘Exactly. And when the fire had burned out and the body was found, everybody would know it was that of Vanity Fair.

‘Well, happily you stepped in, so it didn’t come off. What did come off, I don’t know – and nobody ever will. Finding Virginia gone, Esther may have lost her nerve and decided to quit: I imagine that she started the fire, but whether she did so on purpose, I’ve no idea. When rooms are soused as those were, you’ve only to plug in a lamp to send them up.’

There was a little silence.

Then –

‘Why did she take the poison? If she’d left the room by the terrace, she might have escaped.’

Mansel shook his head.

‘Acorn would have called to the police and told them to make for the garage and wait for her there. It wasn’t the police, as we know, but she didn’t know that. But, even if she had known, I think it more than likely that her chauffeur had run with the rest. And even if he hadn’t and she’d started off in the car, her departure would hardly have been private. I imagine most of the staff were jammed in the entrance gates.’

As I heard a movement beside me, Goliath nosed my shoulder and put his tongue up to my ear. And before I had time to turn round, his mistress was sitting between us with one hand on Mansel’s shoulder and one on mine.

‘You must go away,’ said Mansel, ‘because this is our house.’

Jenny laughed.

‘I was a little girl then.’

‘You’ll always be my little girl.’

‘Always,’ said Jenny. She stooped to brush his hair with her lips. ‘Jill sent me to find you for her. But now I’ve found you, I don’t want to let you go.’

Mansel kissed her fingers.

‘You were always much nicer to me than you were to William.’

‘I’m not now,’ said Jenny.

Her fingers slid from my shoulder and felt for my lips.

‘Why were you then?’ said Mansel.

Jenny lifted her eyes to gaze at the golden woods.

‘I don’t know,’ she said slowly. ‘Jill says I was shy. I always loved him best: but I wasn’t easy with him, as I was with you. It meant so much more when I touched him. I did – I do love you: but I wanted him to love me.’

There was a little silence.

‘D’you believe me now?’ said Mansel.

‘Yes,’ said I.

‘What didn’t he believe?’ said Jenny.

With a smile, Mansel got to his feet.

‘That’s for him to tell you,’ he said.

‘Tell me, darling,’ said Jenny.

‘Damn it,’ said I, ‘I thought you loved Jonathan best.’

‘Oh, William, how could you?’ She slid an arm round my neck. Then she looked up to Mansel. ‘Isn’t he funny?’ she said. ‘And yet he’s been out in the world for the whole of his life.’

‘It’s not my fault,’ said Mansel. ‘I’ve done what I could.’

‘No, no,’ cried Jenny, fiercely, and held me tight. ‘No, no, I don’t want him changed.’

‘Sweetheart,’ smiled Mansel, ‘don’t worry. Heaven and earth may pass away, but, for better or for worse, Richard William Chandos will never change.’ He stood up, squared his shoulders and snuffed the air. ‘My God,’ he said, ‘I feel like a boy out of school. Come, Goliath,’ and the two of them raced for the gate.

Her chin on her shoulder, my lady watched them go.

As Goliath came loping back, I touched her cheek.

‘There goes a great gentleman, Jenny: a far finer fellow than me.’

‘I know,’ said Jenny. ‘I know. But I love you best.’

I kissed her lips, and stood up. Then I put out my hands for hers and drew her up to her feet and into my arms…

After a long moment I held her off, to regard her – a rosy child.

I had not thought that she could look more lovely than she had looked those days in the belvedere: but Jill and Bordeaux, between them, had found her in clothes which better became her estate. Her beautiful legs were still bare, and so were her arms, but her shoes were of neat, white buckskin, her dress was a smart confection of blue and white, and a slice of embroidered silk was betraying a fine chemise. That these things enhanced her beauty, I cannot deny. The gold of her curls, the blue of her eyes, the bloom of her exquisite skin seemed rarer and more outstanding than ever before. But that is as far as I can go. You cannot sweeten sweetness itself; and the shape of her mouth, the light of her countenance, and the eager breath of her lips were ruled by ‘a grace beyond the reach of art’.

‘Do you like my dress, William?’

‘I love it,’ said I.

‘D’you remember how I was dressed when you saw me first?’

‘Perfectly,’ said I.

‘What was I wearing?’

‘Nothing, my beauty,’ said I. ‘And very lovely you looked.’

Jenny’s great eyes grew round. Then she caught my wrist with a cry.

‘I know, I know. That was the day before. You were there at dawn – in the meadows…the morning that Jean came back.’

I could hardly believe my ears.

‘That’s perfectly true,’ I said. ‘But how do you know? I’ll swear you never saw me.’

‘No, but I had a feeling – a feeling I didn’t know. And the moment I saw you next day I had it again. D’you think I smelt you, William?’

‘I hope not,’ said I. ‘I was more than two hundred yards off.’

‘Then it must have been love,’ said Jenny.

I picked her up in my arms.

‘The world’s full of men,’ said I. ‘Perhaps one day you’ll have that feeling again.’

A maiden smiled.

‘If ever I do,’ she said quietly, ‘I’ll know that it can’t have been love.’

‘Jenny,’ I said, ‘who taught you to say these pretty things?’

A child shook her lovely head.

‘No one,’ she said. ‘But I’m glad you find them pretty, because that means that you love me. And that’s what I want.’

‘I’m mad about you,’ I said.

‘Splendid,’ said Jenny, and put up her mouth to be kissed.

And that is very nearly the end of my tale.

Virginia passed from her trance to a nervous breakdown, and lay in the home at Bordeaux for nearly a month. For that time we stayed at Anise, fleeting the days ‘as they did in the golden world’. When she was fit to travel, she went with Jill and Mansel to stay at their Hampshire home: and that, I am sure, was more to her taste than was my home in Wiltshire, for the very simple reason that she had fallen for Mansel and was ready to sell her soul to become his wife. This, as may be supposed, to my great relief… And when they went to Hampshire, Jenny and I went home.

Lafone was not brought to justice, but hanged herself in her cell, thus saving me inconvenience which I was most glad to escape. Marc was less considerate: but Mansel was clever enough to steer me clear of Jezreel, and, after a delay of six months, the ruffian was only charged with stealing my car. For this offence he was ordered to pay a fine of ten francs, the judges remarking that he had suffered enough. Indeed, I was sternly rebuked for having offered him violence of any kind. But when, encouraged by this, his counsel made bold to suggest that an action would lie against me for aggravated assault, the judges rose up as one man and, vowing most horrid vengeance for such ‘contempt of their court’, increased the fine by four hundred and ninety francs and awarded me costs which, of course, I never received.

Jenny took her true name, and Virginia came to be known as Virginia Wright. We let it be understood that she had been staying with Jenny as the guest of Vanity Fair and that they were the only survivors of the shocking affair at Jezreel. Of Virginia’s marriage to Gaston nothing was ever said, and, thanks to the drug with which her senses were dulled, she herself never knew that for half-a-day she was that recreant’s wife.

The whole truth was only disclosed to those at whose instance Mansel set out for Jezreel; but a part was told to the lawyers who dealt with Jenny’s estate. Of the fortune which should have been hers not one-sixth remained, and when Jezreel had been sold and all debts and duties were paid, she was left with a sum which brought in two thousand a year. Half of this she gave to Virginia who needed it more than she. This property stood Virginia in very good stead. After falling in love three times in as many months, she met and married a Scotsman who in her eyes diminished all other men, and since his estates in Rhodesia were demanding most of his time, she has to a great extent passed out of our lives.

I had made up my mind that I would not marry Jenny until she had taken her place in the world I knew and so had become acquainted with other men. But this she declined to do, except as my wife. I do not mean that she refused to go out or to have to do with the men and women she met: but if Mansel or I were not present, she seemed preoccupied, and if we were, she never had eyes or ears for anyone else. In a way this was natural enough, for the ten years she spent in the pleasance had left their mark and there was between us three an understanding which nobody else could share. So after six weeks it seemed best to throw in my hand and to take up the shining honour which I had been done.

Jezreel was sold to the Roman Catholic Church: and from the remains of the castle there has risen a building which has the look of a school. In fact it is a seminary: and boys are now taught to be priests where Below bowed down at the altar of Vanity Fair. I hope they find the ground holy: for me it will always be the field of blood.

I have never seen it again, and I never shall, for the memories which it would kindle are vivid enough.

I can see the terrace laid with carpet, and the elegant figure in black with the eyes of steel: I can see Julie’s pitiful corpse asprawl on the sunlit flags: I can see the Spaniard crouching, his face alight with that mountain-side: I can see my gorgeous bedroom, and the dying scream of the chauffeur whose death I caused: I can see Jenny sitting above me, and hear the slam of my heart as I fought with that mountain-side: I can see my gorgeous bedroom, and Virginia, pale and trembling to find herself trapped: I can see myself bayed in my cell, and the woman framed in its doorway, and the lazy light in her eyes: I can see the line of the drip-course, and can feel the sweat running on my fingers as I strove to face an adventure which wore the semblance of death: I can hear Lafone’s hideous laughter and the crunch of her pick as it sent a soul to its Maker before its time: and then I can see that most amazing picture, that had the look of a film – where the three whom she had poisoned whimpered or prayed or laughed at the table of Vanity Fair.

There are nights when these things haunt me, so that I cannot sleep: and then I call to Jenny: and because she is kind as fair, she comes at my call: and always, because she is Jenny, they fly away.

(in order of first publication)

These titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels

(in order of first publication)

These titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels

(in order of first publication)

These titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels

(in order of first publication)

Published by House of Stratus

Adèle & Co This is the first full-length novel featuring Yates’ finest comic creation, Bertram ‘Berry’ Pleydell. The popular character of Adéle is based on the author’s first wife, Bettine, a highly gregarious American dancer and actress. Written in response to massive public demand for the Berry stories, this is regarded as one of Yates’ best books. Amongst the madcap escapades of the Pleydell clan as they career about the French countryside you will find ‘crime, criminals, and some of the funniest writing in the English language’.

And Berry Came Too Eight stories in which we encounter ‘the hair-raising adventures and idiotic situations of the Pleydell family’ ( Punch ). Along with John Buchan and ‘Sapper’, Yates dominated the adventure book market of the inter-war years, and Berry is regarded as one of British comic writing’s finest creations, including Tom Sharpe amongst his fans. Read these and weep (with laughter).

As Berry & I Were Saying Reprinted four times in three months, this semi-autobiographical novel is a humorous account of the author’s hazardous experiences in France, at the end of the World War II. Darker and less frivolous than some of Yates’ earlier books, he describes it as ‘really my own memoir put into the mouths of Berry and Boy’, and at the time of publication it already had a nostalgic feel. A great hit with the public and a ‘scrapbook of the Edwardian age as it was seen by the upper-middle classes’.

B-Berry & I Look Back This is Yates’ final book, a semi-autobiographical novel spanning a lifetime of events from the sinking of the Titanic to the notorious Tichborne murder case. It opens with Berry, one of British comic writing’s finest creations, at his funniest, and is a companion volume to As Berry and I Were Saying . Pure, vintageYates.

Berry & Co This collection of short stories featuring ‘Berry’ Pleydell and his chaotic entourage established Dornford Yates’ reputation as one of the best comic writers in a generation, and made him hugely popular. The German caricatures in the book carried such a sting that when France was invaded in 1939 Yates, who was living near the Pyrenées, was put on the wanted list and had to flee.

The Berry Scene These stories, written by huge popular demand, give us classic Berry Pleydell – Yates’ finest comic character – at the top of his form. The first story sees Berry capturing a German spy at a village cricket match in 1914, and things get more bizarre from then on. A self-consciously nostalgic work harking back to more decorous days, here are tense plotting and high farce of the best kind.

Blind Corner This is Yates’ first thriller: a tautly plotted page-turner featuring the crime-busting adventures of suave Richard Chandos. Chandos is thrown out of Oxford for ‘beating up some Communists’, and on return from vacation in Biarritz he witnesses a murder. Teaming up at his London club with friend Jonathan Mansel, a stratagem is devised to catch the killer. The novel has compelling sequels: Blood Royal , An Eye For a Tooth, Fire Below and Perishable Goods .

Blood Royal At his chivalrous, rakish best in a story of mistaken identity, kidnapping, and old-world romance, Richard Chandos takes us on a romp through Europe in the company of a host of unforgettable characters. This fine thriller can be read alone or as part of a series with Blind Corner , An Eye For a Tooth , Fire Below and Perishable Goods .

Brother of Daphne Daphne is ‘well-born, elegant, beautiful, and not especially bright’. In this, Yates’ earliest collection of stories, we meet the Pleydell clan and encounter their high-spirited comic adventures. It is a world of Edwardian gentility and accomplished farce that brought the author instant fame when the stories appeared in Windsor Magazine .

Cost Price A story from Dornford Yates’ later career, of stolen treasure, set against a backdrop of World War II: adventure, a travelling circus and much more besides. Lots of favourite Yates characters are here, as well as some new ones, like the Portuguese mule in trousers, and a few striking villains. This is the legendary Chandos’ final fictional appearance. A tense, assured plot and vintage comedy from a master of the genre.