Читать книгу The Mind Readers - Margery Allingham - Страница 6

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“Oh, darlings! I’m so sorry!” Helena was trying to stop shivering. Despite the careful make-up and the golden wool suit, she looked disheveled. She had been in an odd mood when she came in, and the news of the boys’ adventure which had greeted her on arrival at the rectory had shaken her self-control. “Please forgive me, Uncle Hubert, and you too, Amanda. It’s really only because I’m so glad to get here. You don’t know what heaven this room is after the island!”

She shot a watery smile at them across the table, with its old red chenille cloth, its square of crochet and the tea tray bearing china strewn with flowers and a battered but glowing silver pot.

It was nearly six and the parlor was much as everyone present had always remembered it, homely and cozy and apparently forever.

Canon Avril was sitting by the fire in his high-backed best chair. He was enormously interested and very happy indeed to see them. Opposite him, in the window alcove, sat the Lady Amanda, sister to the Earl of Pontisbright and to Lady Mary, who was Helena’s mother. She was a remarkable person who had made a career for herself in the late 1930’s and 1940’s as one of the principal designers of Alandel Airplanes. Now she was still a slender woman with a heart-shaped face and clear light-brown eyes. The blazing Pontisbright hair tends to grow darker with the years, but there was still a glint of its smoldering fire in the sleek bob which hugged her round head. One of her chief charms was her voice, which had remained as young as her enthusiasm, and now when she spoke it could have belonged to a girl.

“Any shock is a tear-jerker,” she said. “We were so full of our story we just shot it at you as you appeared. Albert dashed down to Liverpool Street when the call came in from the stationmaster, and he’d just telephoned back to say they were going on to Scotland Yard to look at the records when you arrived. Uncle Hubert and I were trying to work out how the boys could have been so clever.”

“Just suppose they had gone with her!”

“But they didn’t,” said Avril; “they waited until they were in front of a policeman and acted together. Edward accused her and Sam backed his cousin up.”

“What did he say?”

“We don’t know yet,” Amanda put in. “All we heard was that a woman tried to collect them and they saw through her. They’ll be a bit above themselves if they’ve found her in the rogues’ gallery. I suppose she was hoping to demand ransom.”

Helena shuddered. “It could be something quite different. I wish they were home. Albert wouldn’t keep them out, would he?”

Amanda grinned. “They wouldn’t all go to the movies, if that’s what you mean. But as they’re going to be in the building they might look up Charley Luke. That could take hours, especially if they wanted to talk too.”

The canon glanced at the skeleton clock on the mantelshelf. “Albert will be here at any moment now,” he said. “A solicitor is calling to see Sam. Albert told me so himself. Why in the world does that child need a lawyer?”

“It’s the libel case, Uncle. Didn’t they explain?”

“No, I’m afraid we didn’t. We’d only just arrived when the call from the station came in.” Amanda was apologetic. “I’ve said nothing since because it seems so mad. I should have thought both the school and the prep would have frowned at members of the Common Room dragging each other into court.”

“They do.” Helena seized on the new subject. “Sam’s young form master at St. Josephus, whose name is Philip Allenbury, has been forced to sue a retired English master from Totham who was acting as a special examiner. It all happened last term—Sam’s first. Sam is going to be asked to say that he saw Mr. Allenbury open a briefcase which had been left on his desk and look at the examination paper prepared for one of the boys laid up in the infirmary with a broken leg. It mattered terribly to the child, because it meant he either did get into Totham or failed utterly. The examiner is old and a stinker, and he made the accusation on paper to the Head. He also wrote to all the governors.”

“Oh dear, how awfully thorough.” Amanda was laughing in spite of herself. “Yes, of course, the young man would have to clear himself. What does Sam say?”

“He’s so quiet. I don’t understand it. He was the only witness. He was alone in the classroom where it happened, kept in, writing an exercise. Both sides went to talk to him, and the Head thought it would be better if the lawyers saw him at home.”

“Is there any other evidence?”

“Rather a lot. The boy with the leg—he’s a friend of Edward’s—had lost six weeks’ work and couldn’t prepare all the set English books. English is his one bad subject. There were six of these books, all the usual ones: A Midsummer Night’s Dream, The Fortunes of Nigel, Treasure Island, Lays of Ancient Rome and a couple more I can’t remember. The boy had only worked on the Shakespeare seriously. The examiner—his name is Pellett and they call him Tabloid—arrived at St. Josephus on the evening before the exam and went in to see Mr. Allenbury, who was making all the arrangements. Allenbury was alone, except for Sam, sitting at the back of the room. The two men chatted normally until Allenbury said something about the injured boy’s beastly bad luck and mentioned that he’d only had time to do the one book. Sam says Pellett went black in the face at once and said, ‘That was a singularly ill-advised remark, Allenbury,’ and stamped out, leaving the briefcase on the desk.”

“I see. He thought he was being got at.” Avril seemed inclined to sympathize. “Then what?”

“Then Mr. Pellett came back, snatched up his property with a scowl and rushed off again.”

“Had Allenbury looked in the case?” Amanda demanded.

“I don’t know. The solicitor may be able to get it out of Sam; I couldn’t.” Helena’s gray eyes met hers briefly. “Unfortunately, later on that evening Allenbury went over to see the boy in the hospital and, according to him, the child asked him suddenly for a copy of the Lays, which he’d not even taken over there. Allenbury came back to the school and got one for him and the boy spent the night swotting it up. In the morning when Pellett produced the paper all the English Lit. questions were on the Lays.”

“Oh dear.”

“I know. To make things worse, all the St. Josephus masters were certain they wouldn’t be chosen. Macaulay is out of fashion, and Pellett was known to dislike them because the thumpitybump of the verse is so easy to learn.”

“Unhappy man!” said Avril. “Oh hello, Mrs. Talisman; what is it?”

“A gentleman, sir.” She was a little excited. “A Mr. Anderton to see Sam.”

Helena got up. “That’s Mr. Pellett’s solicitor. He’s early. Shall I take him into your study, Uncle Hubert?”

“No, I don’t think so. Ask him to step this way, Mrs. Talisman.” Avril’s authority was of the old-fashioned kind. “We don’t want any interviews to be too private, do we? That was the headmaster’s feeling. I agree. We’ll see if we can help him.”

The two women had no opportunity to object. Mr. Anderton came lightly into the room, his expression changing as he saw the unexpected group. He was a slim, youngish person, not quite the glossy type of modern legal businessman, but shrewd enough, with a smooth approach and an unexpected leaven of humor in his outlook. At the moment his chief concern appeared to be curiosity. It came into the room with him like an odor.

He recognized Avril’s authority and made his explanation to him with only a sidelong deference to Helena.

“I came a little early because I thought I might perhaps have a word with the boy’s father,” he said, looking about him, his glance taking in the old furniture, the silver, the worn Persian rugs. “I didn’t realize he didn’t live here...?”

He left the question in the air and Helena answered it obligingly.

“My husband had to stay at the research station,” she said. “He’s a scientist, you see.”

“Research station?” He was both so surprised and so enlightened that he repeated the words. “Really? Oh, I do beg your pardon. I didn’t understand that at all! You must forgive me. I thought... I mean I assumed that he had some sort of diplomatic...” He took himself firmly in hand. “You must forgive me,” he repeated, starting again. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. I should have telephoned, but the appointment was made and I was, as it were, on my way home and so I took the liberty of dropping in.”

“So you don’t want to see Sam after all? Splendid!” Old Avril appeared to have followed the newcomer without difficulty. “Excellent! It might have proved a very grown-up problem for a very young person. May I inquire why you have decided not to worry him?”

“Mr. Pellett has withdrawn the accusation and is apologizing, and Mr. Allenbury is withdrawing the action.” Mr. Anderton was startled into simplicity. “I only heard half an hour before I came out.”

“You seem to find that very surprising?” The canon was interested, as he always was in anybody’s news. “Didn’t you think Mr. Pellett would give way?”

“I could have sworn he wouldn’t!” The reaction was explosive. “Mr. Pellett is a very determined man indeed. Frankly, I’m amazed by this development. However, he told me himself or I shouldn’t have believed it. I gathered that some pressure had been put on both sides and, rightly or wrongly, I understood that it had emanated from here, from the child’s family. I’m probably quite wrong.”

“I think you must be. I don’t know of anything of the sort.”

“I see. Then perhaps the pressure was put upon the two schools by something very authoritative. Your husband’s ... ah ... place of work, for instance, Mrs. Ferris?” His eyes were knowing, but she met them blankly and the shadow in her face was noticeable.

“If that were true, it really would be the last thing any of us here would know about,” she said coldly. Then she added, to soften the snub, “Can we offer you some tea?”

He refused politely and set about taking his leave with as much grace as possible. “What a view that is!” he remarked, nodding at the window. “From outside one hasn’t a clue it exists.”

The change of subject was successful, and for a moment everybody paused to look out at one of those London scenes which make the city one of the best loved and most unexpected in the world.

On the far side of the little square there was a wall with a pierced decorative border in brickwork. Behind it, quite ten feet below the level of the pavement, a short wide road ran down to the brightly lit shopping center of Portminster Row, where the scarlet buses teetered among the traffic and the hurrying crowds streamed homeward. The architect who had designed the rectory must have envisaged the picture: the silhouettes of the trees in the square and the lacelike insertion in the wall showing up against the lights in the road, while above them, like a dropcloth, the deep blue of London’s evening shadow blotted out the towers and chimney pots of the remoter reaches of the town. It was a nightly vision at the rectory, but, even so, the worn red velvet curtains were never drawn until the sapphire had faded and the lights had turned from yellow to white.

This evening, as they looked, a car turned in from the square’s only entrance and Amanda got up.

“There they are!” she said with relief.

Mr. Anderton fled, passing two boys and two men in the hallway. They did not speak to him, merely stepping aside briefly in their descent upon the open parlor doorway.

It was not until the front door had closed behind him and the others were all in the room that he was mentioned at all.

By then Sam was swinging on his mother’s arm, Edward was shaking hands gravely with Amanda, and Superintendent Charles Luke was being welcomed affectionately by the canon, with whom he was a favorite. Albert Campion, who had been the last to come in, put the question as he closed the door behind him.

“Who was that running away?” His light affable voice only just penetrated the din, but the inquiry was authoritative and the reply came back spontaneously, without thought, from the youngest mouth in the room.

“That was only the silly old lawyer,” said Sam from Helena’s arms. “He doesn’t want to see me now, thank goodness.”