“Exactly,” replied his wife. “I heard the clock at the Palace strike as
we passed.”
“Did you use ’er before that, sir—this side of midnight?”
In an electric silence Derry shook his head.
“Not after midnight,” he said. “I drove to Carlton House Terrace about
eleven and home about half-past two, but that was all.”
The constable raised his eyebrows.
“Then I’m afraid she was bein’ used, sir, without your authority. An’ as
this is rather important, I’d like a word with your chauffeur—if you’ve
no objection.”
There was another silence.
Violently red in the face, Captain Chase sat like a graven image,
wide-eyed but sightless. One slight hand to her mouth, Rosemary, still
as death, stared upon the floor.
Realizing that something must be done, and done quickly, Virginia took a
deep breath.
“You say ‘before midnight’?” she said barefacedly.
“_After_ midnight, madam,” corrected P.C. Bloke.
“Oh, I used her _after_ midnight,” said Virginia. “I thought you were
talking about before.”
“No, after, dear,” said Derry gallantly.
“Oh, I used her after midnight.” She turned to her husband. “I felt I
must have some air, so I sent for Filmer and went for a little drive.”
“Ah, that explains it,” said Derry, waving a hand. As though released
from a spell, Captain and Mrs. Chase relaxed their muscles and murmured
their concurrence. “Anything else, Constable?”
“If you please, sir.” He turned to Virginia. “Excuse me askin’ you,
madam, but were you alone?”
Supercharged with resentment and mortification, Virginia could have
burst.
Instead, she turned to Roger.
“Did you come with me or not? I know you said you were going to, but I
went to sleep almost at once, and——”
“Yes, I came,” said Roger, uncrossing and recrossing his legs and
mentally consigning all women and police-officers to outer darkness.
“Don’t you remember when I woke you to say we were back?”
“I can’t say I do,” said Virginia ruthlessly. “Never mind.” She turned
to the constable. “This gentleman says he was with me.”
P.C. Bloke addressed himself to Roger.
“D’you remember anythin’ ’appenin,’ sir, during your drive?”
With goggling eyes, Roger assured the ceiling that he could recall
nothing.
“It was a most—most uneventful progress,” he added thickly.
A deeper tinge of colour stole into Virginia’s cheeks.
P.C. Bloke frowned and fingered his chin.
“Nothing at all, sir?” he ventured.
Not daring to trust his voice, Captain Chase shook his head.
Rosemary cleared her throat.
“Perhaps,” she said slowly, “—it’s nothing to do with me—but perhaps
if the constable could give you some sort of idea of what he wants to
know . . .”
“I agree,” said Derry heartily, taking out cigarettes. “What are you
after, Constable? Somebody been knocked down?”
“We never knocked anybody down,” said Virginia. “That I’ll swear.”
“Oh no, madam,” said P.C. Bloke. “I’m not suggestin’ it. It’s rather the
other way. But as neither you nor the gentleman don’t recall no
inciden’, I’m afraid p’r’aps I’m wastin’ your time.” He turned to Derry.
“Can you tell me where I shall find your chauffeur, sir?”
For the second time reference to the chauffeur as a possible fount of
information produced an immediate effect.
“Ha-half a moment,” said Roger desperately. “I mean, as my wife was
saying, can’t you give us any idea of what you’re getting at?” He
laughed inanely. “You see, you’ve—you’ve aroused our curiosity, and
I—we feel it’s only fair to put us wise.”
He stopped there to wipe the sweat from his brow.
The constable glanced about him before replying.
Virginia, scarlet in the face, was smoking furiously and regarding an
exquisite Herring with narrowed eyes. Handkerchief to lips, Rosemary,
whose sense of humour her husband’s agonized travail had rendered
mutinous, fought to suppress her mirth. With the idiotic grin of one who
is seeking to maintain his gravity by entering the cataleptic state,
Major Peruke gazed upon a bowl of sweet-peas.
Wondering if this deportment was that generally obtaining in Curzon
Street, P.C. Albert Bloke referred to his notes—less for the purpose of
refreshing his memory than with some hazy idea of stabilizing his wits,
the formation of which was beginning to get ragged.
Almost unconsciously he began to read aloud his report.
“_At 1.10 a.m. on July the eighth I was on duty at the junction of
Roe’ampton Lane and Dandle Row. A limousine car, ooze number I
afterwards ascertained to be XH 2908, was about to turn out of the Row
towards Richmond at a slow pace. Its lights was burnin’. As it turned
out I made to pass be’ind it to cross the Lane when a coopy, ooze number
I afterwards ascertained to be XL 9436, proceedin’ at a ’igh speed in
the direction of Putney ’Eath, swerved right across the roadway
an’——_”
Derry’s cigarette-case fell to the parquet with a crash.
Everyone jumped violently, and Rosemary, white to the lips, stifled a
cry. Purple in the face, the culprit stammered apologies and garnered
his cigarettes with trembling fingers. Remembering her recent ignominy,
Virginia surveyed his efforts with a cold and glittering stare. His
hands clapped to his face, Roger furtively regarded his wife between his
fingers.
“Go on, Constable,” said Virginia sweetly. “‘Swerved right across the
roadway’ directly into the path of the limousine, whose headlights were
on.”
“Thank you, madam,” said Bloke triumphantly. “I couldn’t say that myself
because I was be’ind your car. But it passed so close to me that I felt
the wind on me face.” He turned to Roger. “Do you remember it too, sir?”
As though wishful to uproot it, Captain Chase tugged his moustache.
“I—I have a faint recollection,” he said uneasily. “If I remember,
they—they swung away again. You know. Corrected their error an’——”
“’Appily for you, sir,” was the grim reply. “Otherwise it’d ’ve been
manslaughter. As wicked a piece of reckless drivin’ as ever I saw.
Passed the refuge on the wrong side——”
“Had to do that,” said Derry. “I mean—they probably couldn’t ’ve got
back without countin’ the refuge out.”
“Very probably, sir,” said the constable. “You can’t bother about them
things at forty-five miles an hour.”
This was too much.
“O-o-oh!” cried Rosemary. “I wasn’t going——” She stopped dead there
and swallowed violently. “I wasn’t going to—to tell you,” she continued
desperately. “But I saw a car going fast the other day. Not—not so fast
as that, though,” she added with a sickly smile.
P.C. Albert Bloke put a hand to his head.
With shaking fingers, Major Peruke was lighting a cigarette: as he did
so a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his nose. Virginia looked as
though about to burst into hysterical laughter. The idiotic grin which
had lately inhabited Derry’s face seemed to have shifted bodily to that
of Roger.
Once again the constable referred to his notes.
“_I called upon them to stop, but they took no notice._”
“Perhaps—perhaps they didn’t hear you,” blurted Derry Peruke.
“That’s their look-out, sir. One can’t do no more than shout.” He turned
to Virginia. “And now if you please, madam, I’d like to take your
statemen’.”
A rustle of consternation greeted this curt announcement.