Man of Blood, page 22
“Everything’s on a larger scale and they’ve learned to cope with it in a grand manner,” Rolt said. “The likes of you and me don’t have things like feather beds knocking about and wells in the basement. One of the reasons I took on Piers is that he thinks big. It gets him into trouble sometimes but — admit it — how many of your men would fall a hundred feet down a hole in the ground, climb out and then still have the bottle to go and arrest the man responsible?”
“It’s just as well for William Turner that he did.”
Rolt nodded. “Are you sure you’ve looked everywhere for the girl?”
“Short of digging up the gardens.”
“Who d’you think this man might be who Turner reckons she was with?”
“I’ve absolutely no idea. Any one of several boyfriends. Let’s hope the old man’s right. But I’m damned if I can see the sense of it. She left London to drive here. Her car’s here. No one’s seen her — I’ve had people asking in the village. So where is she? I’m afraid Turner might have seen someone else.”
“And if she’d stayed with a local friend, she’d be here by now. Someone would have told her the place is full of police.”
They went indoors. The search of the house having been accomplished some time previously, all police personnel had either been recalled or were still on duty in the area where Charles Morgan’s body had been found. This had now been removed and so had his car, taken away plastic-sheeted on a lorry for forensic testing.
The two men strolled into the Great Hall. Hands in their pockets they wandered slowly around the room gazing at the portraits. Suddenly, Leadbetter exclaimed softly.
“There. See that ring — the one with the seal?” He looked more closely. “Joseph Ashley, 1817 — 1888. That ring he’s wearing was in the suitcase that Jackson was carrying when he was arrested. There were other things as well he was hoping to make off with. Several pairs of the Colonel’s gold cufflinks, silver boxes and silver-backed hairbrushes. And fifty-three pounds in cash.”
Rolt came to look. Leadbetter had briefed him on the way from the helicopter but not with exact details. He said, “It makes you feel a bit strange, doesn’t it? History rolls on and a ring is returned to where it ought to be.”
Both turned as they heard footsteps. It was the Colonel.
He said, “I made Piers rest for a bit. He looked frightful. Perhaps I should get a doctor to him.”
“May I see him?” Rolt asked. “Then we can both make the decision.”
The three started up the stairs. Their mission was proved to be unnecessary, however, as Piers Ashley was seen to be coming down.
“There’s a red Porsche just arriving,” he reported. “There was a red Porsche parked outside Lee Haasden’s London apartment.” And with these two brief statements he brushed through them and resumed his descent.
“Will he do the fella any harm?” Mycroft said in a loud stage whisper to Rolt.
“Well, I hope not,” the Commander replied. “Because with a bit of luck… Shall we go outside?”
The tinted windscreen gave away no clues as to the occupants of the vehicle, not with the late afternoon sun shining down the drive and directly into Piers’ eyes. The thought crossed his mind as he stood, hardly breathing, that the scene could be from one of those films that he really despised and which had even normally strong-minded women reaching for their handkerchiefs.
It did not mean though that he stood back when Thea got out of the car and did not hurry forward and hug her tightly.
“We were coming back much earlier,” she was saying, speaking quickly into his ear, his head resting on her shoulder. “But something electrical in the car went wrong and Lee couldn’t drive it at all. And I did ring last night and no one answered. Piers, do tell me what’s happened.”
She had, it transpired, started for home the previous night. But after only a short while she had begun to have misgivings and had stopped at a phone box. She had phoned the Hall, hoping to speak to her father. (Unbeknown to her Jackson had rung from his own house.) There was no reply which seemed very strange in the circumstances. Assuming Piers still to be in Sussex and possibly in his own flat where there was no phone, she did not try to reach him in Shepherd’s Bush. Thea had then recalled that Lee Haasden had been very good in emergencies, and to ask a man’s advice was a good way to break the deadlock that pouring soup all over him had created. There was good reason to believe that the news of the affair that had given such strength to the hand holding the soup plate was no more than a malicious rumour.
Haasden’s advice — and he had not really minded being hauled out of bed where he had repaired with a heavy cold — was indeed practical. They would both drive to Ashleigh Coombe, taking a car each in order to give them travel independence for any return journeys. When they had arrived the entire place was in darkness, for Tom Jackson, watching from the lodge, had stayed put when he had observed two cars. Thea had been confused as to what she should do, and even more confused because after she had apologised en route Lee had told her he loved her and had never touched, even with the longest barge pole, the young lady in dispute. Face to face under a midnight sky they had conversed earnestly.
“I don’t think we ought to stay here,” she had said. “If it was a hoax to get me here there might be some danger or other. And I don’t want to wake Piers if he’s here. Let’s come back in the morning.”
In the total confusion of being in love she had left her overnight bag in the car. As it happened this did not prove too awkward. She borrowed Lee’s toothbrush and the rest did not really matter.
“When did you first decide you were in love with me?” she had asked dreamily.
“After that big brother of yours had been to see me.”
“How was that?”
“Oh, it’s corny — you’ll only laugh.”
“I never laugh at things like that,” Thea had protested.
After a pause Haasden had said, “Well, I could see that the guy hurt — it was only after he explained that he’d been shot that I understood. And when he’d gone I realized that you were like that. From what I knew of you I recognized the same kindred spirit. You stuck by him, didn’t you, when he was in trouble?”
“We’d have been here hours ago if it hadn’t been for the car,” Thea said now, embracing her mother.
But they hadn’t been in any real hurry, Rolt decided, eyeing the couple. Oh well, never mind. He who hesitated was definitely lost when it came to a girl like Thea Ashley.
“I’ve just remembered something,” Elizabeth said over dinner, and all eyes swivelled in her direction. Commander Rolt had been persuaded to stay but Leadbetter had declined, pleading a previous engagement.
“Such a funny little man came to your flat, Piers,” she continued. “I’d forgotten all about him what with everything else. He asked me to give you a message.”
“Who was it?” Piers asked.
“He didn’t give his name. But he said you’d know who it was. He said to tell you that it was all arranged and he’d meet you in the usual place to discuss details.”
“Is that all?” Piers asked.
“Yes. He seemed to think you knew all about it.”
“What did he look like?” Rolt wanted to know.
“Like a little old monkey. But he was very polite. Especially after I’d said I was your mother, Piers.”
“Dorney!” Piers gasped. “Len Dorney. The diamonds job. It must have been.”
Rolt shot to his feet. “That body that was found after the fire has never been properly identified.”
They both ran to the Commander’s car.
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Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Margaret Duffy, Man of Blood
