Part 20 (1/2)
Agitation in Emily invariably made her short-tempered.
She would have scorned to betray a feminine weakness or to ask for rea.s.surance. She rea.s.sured herself by denouncing the bare idea of Jim's life being in danger as stuff and nonsense and saying she had never heard anything to equal it, found fault with everyone who came near her, and supposed that Timothy got his silly notions from his mother.
Norma took this in good part, laughing in genuine amus.e.m.e.nt and saying: ”Quite wrong, Aunt Emily; he got these particular notions from his friend Roberts. I think they're ridiculous.”
Emily's mouth worked. She glared at Lady Harte and said: ”That man! What's it got to do with him? Encroaching ways! I've no patience with him!”
Jim came into the room in time to hear this familiar phrase and said promptly: ”Somebody been annoying you, Aunt? You look horribly fierce.”
From no one but Jim would Emily have tolerated such a teasing form of address, but since he could do no wrong in her eyes she merely nodded at him and replied: ”If you take my advice, you'll send him about his business!”
”Who?” inquired Jim, beginning to fill his pipe.
”That Roberts. Your cousin wouldn't have anything to do with his flibbertigibbet scheme. I don't know what he wants here, treating the house as though it belonged to him!”
Jim let this somewhat unfair accusation pa.s.s unchallenged. ”I imagine he's trying to unravel the mystery of Clement's death. Sometimes I think he's on to something the police haven't discovered, but he doesn't give away much.”
Emily's twisted hands gripped the handle of her ebony stick more tightly. ”Impudence! Poking his nose into our affairs! I'd like to give him a piece of my mind!”
”You probably will,” said Jim, smiling down at her over the lighted match he was holding above the bowl of his pipe.
”Serve him right!” said Emily. ”If people would mind their own business it would be a better thing for everyone.”
”Well, I don't know,” replied Jim. ”If Roberts can clear up the mystery, I'm all for it. I think we've had about enough of it, and the police don't seem to be doing much, do they?”
”They're doing more than they're wanted to!” said Emily angrily. ”Getting us into the papers and digging up what's best left alone! I don't know what your great-uncle would say if he were alive to see it.”
”It's got to be dug up, Aunt, whether we like it or not.”
She made no reply to this, but folded her lips, and sat with her remote stare fixed on the s.p.a.ce before her.
Lady Harte said: ”I don't think the publicity matters at all. One gets used to that sort of thing. I've had so much of it I never think twice about it.”
”I dare say,” said Emily disagreeably. She transferred her gaze to Jim's face. ”What's this pack of nonsense I hear about your being in danger?”
”Just that,” he answered. ”A pack of nonsense.”
”One of that Roberts' tales. What next, I wonder! The sooner we see the back of him the better.
Putting ideas into Timothy's head!”
”To do him justice, I don't think he mentioned the matter to Timothy at all. He warned me. And though I personally think it's rot, you must admit it was a kindly act on his part.”
Emily gave a short laugh. ”Trying to get round you to fall in with his scheme, I've no doubt.
Don't you go making any rash promises!”
He smiled and shook his head. Emily glared suspicion. ”Have those Mansells been at you again?” she demanded.
”No. I met Joe Mansell in Portlaw today, and he said he wanted to talk things over with me. I've arranged to call and see him at the office tomorrow morning. I expect he'll bring the question up then.”
”What are you going to say?”
”Nothing. I've been talking to Adrian about it--”
”I should like to know what he thinks he knows about it!” interjected Emily scornfully.
”Oh, Adrian's no fool!” said Lady Harte.
”As a matter of fact, he doesn't think he knows anything about it,” said Jim. ”His advice is that I should go up and lay the proposition before Everard and Dawson-which I propose to do as soon as things have straightened themselves out a bit here.”
Emily was unable to find fault with this, so she relapsed into silence.
”Does Patricia know you're going to see Joe tomorrow?” asked Lady Harte.
”No. I haven't said anything to her about it.”
”Then don't. She'll only start imagining things.”
”I'm not going to. You two-and Adrian, of course-are the only people I've told. Not that I think the most jumpy person, which Pat isn't, could possibly expect any harm to overtake me. Even if the Mansells were out for my blood, they'd hardly try to b.u.mp me off in their own offices. However, Pat's a trifle worked up over the whole show, so there's no point in saying anything about it to her.”
Lady Harte looked at him consideringly. ”The whole idea's absurd. All the same, there's no harm in being prepared. Do you carry a gun?”
He laughed. ”No, my dear, I don't.”
”I should, if I were you. Whenever I change my camp I make it a rule to set up a line of bottles and have a little revolver practice in full sight of the village. I've never had a bit of trouble. Never even been robbed.”
”You're a turn-in yourself, Mother,” said Jim appreciatively. ”But this isn't Darkest Africa, and I doubt whether anyone would be impressed by my marksmans.h.i.+p.”
”Nonsense, you're not a bad shot! Don't depreciate yourself so much!” said his mother severely.
However, when he set out for Portlaw the following morning, Mr. James Kane was unarmed and unaccompanied.
For this last he had to thank his stepfather, who rescued him from the toils of Mr. Harte.
Jim found Sir Adrian in the garage, inexpertly replenis.h.i.+ng his cigarette lighter from a large tin of petrol.
Like most men more accustomed to working with their heads than with their hands, he had contrived to make a major operation of a small task. He wore an expression of profound distaste and, when his stepson walked into the garage, said that it was a pity he had not arrived sooner.
”What a G.o.dforsaken mess!” remarked Jim. ”Why don't you get the thing filled at a tobacconist's?”
”Can I?” said Sir Adrian vaguely. ”I have never owned one of these infernal things before. Your mother gave it to me. I wish that she would try to curb her generous impulses.” He wiped his hands on an oily rag and looked at the result with patient resignation. ”Are you going to see Joseph Mansell now? Your mother has been talking arrant nonsense to me about the advisability of your carrying a gun. I hope you are not infected by the general atmosphere of melodrama reigning in this absurd house.”
”Not noticeably,” replied Jim, putting away the tin of petrol and stepping up to his car. ”Did Pat go with Aunt Emily?”
”No, she took the omnibus into Portlaw. Your mother went with Mrs. Kane.”
Jim smiled. ”I like to think of Mother driving sedately out for an airing in a large and respectable Daimler. Do you want anything in the town, sir?”
”No, nothing, thank you. Ah, Jim!”