SUSPICIONS
It was just on the appointed hour of twelve o'clock that Bundle and
Loraine entered the park gates, having left the Hispano at an adjacent
garage.
Lady Coote greeted the two girls with surprise, but distinct pleasure,
and immediately pressed them to stay to lunch.
O'Rourke, who had been reclining in an immense arm-chair, began at once
to talk with great animation to Loraine, who was listening with half an
ear to Bundle's highly technical explanation of the mechanical troubles
which had affected the Hispano.
"And we said," ended Bundle, "how marvellous that the brute should have
broken down just here! Last time it happened was on a Sunday at a place
called Little Spedlington under the Hill. And it lived up to its name,
I can tell you."
"That would be a grand name on the films," remarked O'Rourke.
"Birthplace of the simple country maiden," suggested Socks.
"I wonder now," said Lady Coote, "where Mr. Thesiger is?"
"He's in the billiard-room, I think," said Socks. "I'll fetch him."
She went off, but had hardly gone a minute when Rupert Bateman appeared
on the scene, with the harassed and serious air usual with him.
"Yes, Lady Coote? Thesiger said you were asking for me. How do you do,
Lady Eileen--"
He broke off to greet the two girls, and Loraine immediately took the
field.
"Oh, Mr. Bateman! I've been wanting to see you. Wasn't it you who was
telling me what to do for a dog when he is continually getting sore
paws?"
The secretary shook his head.
"It must have been someone else, Miss Wade. Though, as a matter of
fact, I do happen to know--"
"What a wonderful young man you are," interrupted Loraine. "You know
about everything."
"One should keep abreast of modern knowledge," said Mr. Bateman
seriously. "Now about your dog's paws--"
Terence O'Rourke murmured _sotto voce_ to Bundle:
"'Tis a man like that that writes all those little paragraphs in
the weekly papers. 'It is not generally known that to keep a brass
fender uniformly bright,' etc.; 'The dorper beetle is one of the most
interesting characters in the insect world'; 'The marriage customs of
the Fingalese Indians,' and so on."
"General information, in fact."
"And what more horrible two words could you have?" said Mr. O'Rourke,
and added piously: "Thank the Heavens above I'm an educated man and
know nothing whatever upon any subject at all."
"I see you've got clock golf here," said Bundle to Lady Coote.
"I'll take you on at it, Lady Eileen," said O'Rourke.
"Let's challenge those two," said Bundle. "Loraine, Mr. O'Rourke and I
want to take you and Mr. Bateman on at clock golf."
"Do play, Mr. Bateman," said Lady Coote, as the secretary showed a
momentary hesitation. "I'm sure Sir Oswald doesn't want you."
The four went out on the lawn.
"Very cleverly managed, what?" whispered Bundle to Loraine.
"Congratulations on our girlish tact."
The round ended just before one o'clock, victory going to Bateman and
Loraine.
"But I think you'll agree with me, partner," said Mr. O'Rourke, "that
we played a more sporting game."
He lagged a little behind with Bundle.
"Old Pongo's a cautious player--he takes no risks. Now, with me it's
neck or nothing. And a fine motto through life, don't you agree, Lady
Eileen?"
"Hasn't it ever landed you in trouble?" asked Bundle, laughing.
"To be sure it has. Millions of times. But I'm still going strong.
Sure, it'll take the hangman's noose to defeat Terence O'Rourke."
Just then Jimmy Thesiger strolled round the corner of the house.
"Bundle, by all that's wonderful!" he exclaimed.
"You've missed competing in the Autumn Meeting," said O'Rourke.
"I'd gone for a stroll," said Jimmy. "Where did these girls drop from?"
"We came on our flat feet," said Bundle. "The Hispano let us down."
And she narrated the circumstances of the breakdown.
Jimmy listened with sympathetic attention.
"Hard luck," he vouchsafed. "If it's going to take some time, I'll run
you back in my car after lunch."
A gong sounded at that moment and they all went in. Bundle observed
Jimmy covertly. She thought she had noticed an unusual note of
exultance in his voice. She had the feeling that things had gone well.
After lunch they took a polite leave of Lady Coote, and Jimmy
volunteered to run them down to the garage in his car. As soon as they
had started the same word burst simultaneously from both girls' lips:
"Well?"
Jimmy chose to be provoking.
"Well?"
"Oh, pretty hearty, thanks. Slight indigestion owing to over indulgence
in dry biscuits."
"But what has happened?"
"I tell you. Devotion to the cause made me eat too many dry biscuits.
But did our hero flinch? No, he did not."
"Oh, Jimmy," said Loraine reproachfully, and he softened.
"What do you really want to know?"
"Oh, everything. Didn't we do it well? I mean, the way we kept Pongo
and Terence O'Rourke in play."
"I congratulate you on the handling of Pongo. O'Rourke was probably a
sitter--but Pongo is made of other stuff. There's only one word for
that lad--it was in the _Sunday Newsbag_ cross-word last week. Word
of ten letters meaning everywhere at once. Ubiquitous. That describes
Pongo down to the ground. You can't go anywhere without running into
him--and the worst of it is you never hear him coming."
"You think he's dangerous?"
"Dangerous? Of course he's not dangerous. Fancy Pongo being dangerous.
He's an ass. But, as I said just now, he's an ubiquitous ass. He
doesn't even seem to need sleep like ordinary mortals. In fact, to put
it bluntly, the fellow's a damned nuisance."
And, in a somewhat aggrieved manner, Jimmy described the events of the
previous evening.
Bundle was not very sympathetic.
"I don't know what you think you're doing anyway, mouching round here."
"No. 7," said Jimmy crisply. "That's what I'm after. No. 7."
"And you think you'll find him in this house?"
"I thought I might find a clue."
"And you didn't?"
"Not last night--no."
"But this morning," said Loraine, breaking in suddenly. "Jimmy, you did
find something this morning. I can see it by your face."
"Well, I don't know if it is anything. But during the course of my
stroll--"
"Which stroll didn't take you far from the house, I imagine."
"Strangely enough, it didn't. Round trip in the interior, we might
call it. Well, as I say, I don't know whether there's anything in it or
not. But I found this."
With the celerity of a conjuror he produced a small bottle and tossed
it over to the girls. It was half full of a white powder.
"What do you think it is?" asked Bundle.
"A white crystalline powder, that's what it is," said Jimmy. "And to
any reader of detective fiction those words are both familiar and
suggestive. Of course, if it turns out to be a new kind of patent
tooth-powder, I shall be chagrined and annoyed."
"Where did you find it?" asked Bundle sharply.
"Ah!" said Jimmy, "that's my secret."
And from that point he would not budge in spite of cajolery and insult.
"Here we are at the garage," he said. "Let's hope the high-mettled
Hispano has not been subjected to any indignities."
The gentleman at the garage presented a bill for five shillings and
made a few vague remarks about loose nuts. Bundle paid him with a sweet
smile.
"It's nice to know we all get money for nothing sometimes," she
murmured to Jimmy.
The three stood together in the road, silent for the moment as they
each pondered the situation.
"I know," said Bundle suddenly.
"Know what?"
"Something I meant to ask you--and nearly forgot. Do you remember that
glove that Superintendent Battle found--the half-burnt one?"
"Yes."
"Didn't you say that he tried it on your hand?"
"Yes--it was a shade big. That fits in with the idea of its being a
big, hefty man who wore it."
"That's not at all what I'm bothering about. Never mind the size of it.
George and Sir Oswald were both there too, weren't they?"
"Yes."
"He could have given it to either of them to fit on?"
"Yes, of course--"
"But he didn't. He chose you. Jimmy, don't you see what that means?"
Mr. Thesiger stared at her.
"I'm sorry, Bundle. Possibly the jolly old brain isn't functioning as
well as usual, but I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking
about."
"Don't you see, Loraine?"
Loraine looked at her curiously, but shook her head. "Does it mean
anything in particular?"
"Of course it does. Don't you see--Jimmy had his right hand in a sling."
"By Jove, Bundle," said Jimmy slowly. "It was rather odd now I come to
think of it; it's being a left hand glove, I mean. Battle never said
anything."
"He wasn't going to draw attention to it. By trying it on you it might
pass without notice being drawn to it, and he talked about the size
just to put everybody off. But surely it must mean that the man who
shot at you held the pistol in his _left_ hand."
"So we've got to look for a left-handed man," said Loraine thoughtfully.
"Yes, and I'll tell you another thing. That was what Battle was doing
looking through the golf clubs. He was looking for a left-handed man's."
"By Jove," said Jimmy suddenly.
"What is it?"
"Well, I don't suppose there's anything in it, but it's rather curious."
He retailed the conversation at tea the day before.
"So Sir Oswald Coote is ambidextrous?" said Bundle.
"Yes. And I remember now on that night at Chimneys--you know, the
night Gerry Wade died--I was watching the bridge and thinking idly how
awkwardly someone was dealing--and then realizing that it was because
they were dealing with the left hand. Of course, it must have been Sir
Oswald."
They all three looked at each other. Loraine shook her head.
"A man like Sir Oswald Coote! It's impossible. What could he have to
gain by it?"
"It seems absurd," said Jimmy. "And yet--"
"No. 7 has his own ways of working," quoted Bundle softly. "Supposing
this is the way Sir Oswald has really made his fortune?"
"But why stage all that comedy at the Abbey when he'd had the formula
at his own works."
"There might be ways of explaining that," said Loraine. "The same line
of argument you used about Mr. O'Rourke. Suspicion had to be diverted
from him and placed in another quarter."
Bundle nodded eagerly.
"It all fits in. Suspicion is to fall on Bauer and the Countess. Who on
earth would ever dream of suspecting Sir Oswald Coote?"
"I wonder if Battle does," said Jimmy slowly.
Some chord of memory vibrated in Bundle's mind. _Superintendent Battle
plucking an ivy leaf off the millionaire's coat._
Had Battle suspected all the time?