Читать книгу Bright Arrows (Musaicum Romance Classics) - Grace Livingston Hill - Страница 4

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Quite early the next morning Lavira Fane alighted from a Western plane, took a taxi from the airport to the railroad station, and after a refreshing cup of coffee and a pile of well-buttered toast with jam, boarded the train for Glencarroll, the city suburb where the Thurstons resided.

Finding no chauffeur to meet her, no taxi at that early hour in the morning, and not even a station agent whom she might blame, she walked with angry, disapproving strides up to the house, reflecting on her hard lot. She did not spend much thought on her lazy son for not attending her, for well she knew his ways. He had probably been up late the night before and was now sleeping the sleep of the shiftless. That was the way she had brought him up. Why should she blame him?

So she blamed other people for whatever he had not done, and assuming that Ellery had told Eden that she was coming, she blamed Eden for not having sent her chauffeur to meet all trains until she arrived. Hence she stalked along growing more and more irate as she drew nearer to the house, which seemed to have moved to a far greater distance from the station than she remembered.

In due time, however, angry and tired and thinking incessantly of the fine breakfast she anticipated that would be served her soon after her arrival, she marched up the stately stone steps and rang the bell.

This was while Tabor was conversing with the policeman, and Janet had not yet come downstairs.

Tabor heard the bell and frowned, glanced at his watch, and frowned again. The policeman gave him a quick glance and said he had better leave.

"Wait!" said Tabor. "I don't know who that would be unless it's that pest of a mother of his. He said she was coming this morning."

"Mmmmm!" said the policeman in an undertone. "You go ahead. I'll stick around."

So Tabor went reluctantly to the door, and silently Janet began to descend the upper stairs.

Thus reinforced, Tabor opened the front door.

"Well! So you did decide to come to the door at last, did you?" blatted the undesired guest. "I shall certainly report this to the family. Are you the same servant that was here the last time I visited?"

Tabor met this tirade with stern countenance.

"Whom did you wish to see, madam?" he asked, in his most butlerish tone. "What is your errand?"

"Errand!" sneered the would-be guest. "I've come to stay. The family must have known I was coming. Stand aside and let me come in. I think it was most unfeeling of them not to have met my plane at the airport, they with their chauffeurs and butlers and other servants!" She fairly snorted out the last words, but Tabor stood immovable.

"Madam, I'm sorry, but I was told not to let anyone in until further word, and we are not disturbing the lady of the house at this hour. She has been through a heavy strain and needs the rest."

"Lady of the house!" snorted the irate Lavira. "Who's that? You don't mean that conceited Janet with her weird Scotch lingo, do you? Because if you do, I'll have you know that no person like that can keep me out. I belong to the family!"

"Yes, madam, that may be so, but you see I have my orders, and I am not to go beyond them."

"Why, you unspeakable outrageous fool! The very idea of your daring to keep me out of this house! I insist that you take my name up to Eden or whoever she has put in charge of the house. If you don't do so, I'll push by you and go right upstairs to her room myself. I simply won't be treated this way, when I've only come to be of service here, and I'm practically being turned out of the door. You go at once!"

"No, madam. I have been told not to disturb Miss Eden on any account. Perhaps you do not know, madam, that there has been a death in the household, which has made it very hard for everybody, and we are doing all we can to give Miss Eden a chance to rest. In fact, her father, Mr. Thurston, asked me a few hours before he died to especially guard her from all intruders these first few days after he was gone, for he knew they would be more than hard for her."

"But this is ridiculous!" sputtered the woman. "I shall appeal to the authorities!"

Then suddenly Mike stepped into the picture.

"Just what is it you wanted to appeal to the authorities for, madam? I belong to the police force, and I have been asked to look after the comfort of this house. Suppose you come with me and we can talk it over."

Mike was enveloped in a brusque politeness, and his sudden authoritative appearance so startled the woman that she fairly gasped.

"Oh! A policeman!" she exclaimed. "Why, what has happened? Are things in such a bad shape here that they have to be guarded by a policeman?" she questioned, yielding to the firm pressure on her arm and authority of the law, as she backed down the steps and was propelled down the front walk and out to the street.

"Why, yes, madam," Mike said in a well-guarded whisper. "Last night after they had all retired and the house was carefully locked, somebody broke into the library and went through the late Mr. Thurston's desk and all his private papers!"

The announcement was made solemnly and filled the woman with awe.

"How–how perfectly terrible!" she exclaimed. "Of course, I didn't know about that. No wonder they were all so upset. But, you see, I'm one of the family and came here to help. I ought to go right up and comfort Eden."

But the hand of the law was still firmly upon her arm, and she did not go back. In fact, the alarm that this big Mike had suddenly raised within her was on the increase. She felt she should learn more about this supposed robbery that the man had been looking into. She must find out if her son had been caught in any such mistaken escapade. It would not be beyond his powers to try something like that, she knew. And it was all right, of course, if he found such measures necessary to carry out his plans. He and she had hoped to be able to work quietly from inside the house as members of the family. But anything was all right if he could get away with it, and so far he had always got away with it. Still it was rather frightening to think that there was a possibility that this time he might not get away with it.

She looked up pleadingly to Mike's stern face, with slippery unmotherly eyes.

"I really ought to go right away to Eden. She will wonder why I didn't come."

Mike looked down at her with wise, penetrating eyes.

"What did you say your name was, madam?"

"Fane," said Lavira eagerly, "I'm Mrs. Lavira Fane. And I got word–that is, I had the notice of the death, and I started right away to come, for I knew the dear departed man would have expected me to be here at once. I took the first plane and came right out here as quick as I could."

"You say your name is Fane? I see." He took out his notebook and flipped over the leaves with one hand. "Fane. Yes, Fane. Have you any relatives in the city or nearby by the name of Fane?"

A quick wary look came into the woman's eyes as she met the stern gaze of the policeman.

"Relatives? Oh no, none by the name of Fane. That is, no relatives at all in this part of the country except the Thurstons. You see, my name is really Thurston. I was a widow with one son and married a brother of the deceased, Mr. Thurston, so my name really is Thurston, and I certainly ought to go right back and be with Eden. It is my duty, you know."

But Mike McGregor walked steadily on, with his grasp still firm on the woman's arm, and suddenly he looked down into her shrinking, frightened eyes.

"Your son's name is Ellery?" he asked, quite casually, and pierced her through with those eyes that did not flinch.

"Why, yes," she simpered, trying to hide her astonishment. "Did you used to know him when he was here before? He was only a child then. I never heard him speak of you. He'll be here in a day or two, I guess. He had some business matters to settle up before he left the West, but he'll be coming on soon."

"Your son is here now," said the policeman calmly. "He must have arrived sometime yesterday, or perhaps earlier, but he is here now."

Lavira gave him a frightened glance, and he could see that her lip was trembling.

"But how would you know that?" she asked, trying to appear casual. "Where is he? I want to see him at once!"

Mike paused beside a big red police car and opened the door.

"Get in," he said coldly. "I will take you to him."

Lavira turned toward the car and suddenly caught her breath, stepped back a pace, and looked the bright red car over.

"But I can't get into that car," she said haughtily.

"Why not?" asked Mike sharply.

"But a bright red car like that! It looks like a police car!"

"It is a police car. Get in!"

"But I can't ride in a car like that! I never was in a police car in my life! I couldn't endure to ride in that. I would be ashamed all the rest of my life. I couldn't get over it."

"People have been ashamed all their lives for less than that," said the policeman grimly. "Get in!"

"Oh, no, no, no!" said Lavira. "I simply couldn't do that! Tell me where you think my son is, and I'll get a taxi and go there, but I can't go in a police car!"

"Sorry," said Mike, "if you want to go to your son, you'll have to go with me in this car. This is my car, and I'm taking you. Get in!"

There was that in Mike's voice that made the woman know she must obey. Slowly she turned and got in, forcibly assisted by Mike's big insistent hand.

"But, but, where am I going? I can't do a thing like this without knowing where I am going."

"You're going to the police station, madam," said Mike. "Your son is there. You wanted to see him. That's where he is."

"Oh!" she gasped. "But what is he doing there?"

"He's being questioned for breaking into the Thurstons' house last night and ransacking Mr. Thurston's desk drawers."

"Oh, he didn't do that," pleaded the mother. "I know he didn't. He wouldn't do a thing like that. Besides, he wasn't here last night. He was to come in on the afternoon train and meet me here. We had planned to come right on and take care of Eden. We knew she would be so lonesome!"

But McGregor rode on in silence, not even noticing by so much as the lift of an eyelash the flow of words by his side and the freely flowing tears, which he told himself grimly were only crocodile tears. For McGregor knew his crooks and didn't often make a mistake.

It was so that Lavira was ushered into police headquarters where she was greeted by the sight of her misguided son sitting in one corner of the room, in close confab with two stern-looking policemen. He sat there in front of his inquisitors filled with assurance, his one long wavy lock of hair hanging jauntily over his handsome, dejected face, like a banner, to which he occasionally gave a careless toss, but his mouth was grim and sullen as he tried to explain to the police how it came about that his fingerprints were on the window that had been jimmied open in the Thurston house, and what he was looking for in the Thurston desk drawers; also how it was that he came to have several old canceled checks in his pocket that bore Mr. Thurston's signature, and what he had been planning to do with them. His excuse for the latter, that he wanted the checks for souvenirs of his beloved uncle, did not seem to go down with the police, as they knew well by now that Mr. Thurston was neither his uncle, nor beloved.

Meanwhile, back at the Thurston house, Eden lay in her own quiet room, getting a much-needed rest. All that day she was watched over by her faithful servants, careful that nothing should disturb her.

And then the next morning, all too early for the careful plans to guard her, it was the telephone by her bed that roused her from her long refreshing sleep.