Her answer dashed such slender hopes as I had that the boy might still be safely in London.
“Oh no, I asked him to be here and he is. Well, here in Jersey. He’s invited Gabrielle to go out for breakfast somewhere.”
“Do you happen to know where?”
“No, Professor Tamar, I don’t,” said Clementine with a certain peevishness. “And I don’t quite know why everyone expects me to act as some kind of keeper. Oh dear — I’m sorry, but Gabrielle’s husband has turned up and he’s in a bit of a stew because I don’t know where she is. He says awful things keep happening at Daffodil meetings and he’s had a sort of premonition of something that she’s in some kind of danger. So I’m feeling a bit —”
“Your telephone call from Geneva, Miss Derwent,” said the switchboard operator behind the reception desk.
“Oh lord — Professor Tamar, will you excuse me? Would you like to go and join the others in the coffee lounge? I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”
In the coffee lounge three men were sitting round one of the low tables: Patrick Ardmore, Gideon Dark-side, and Count Giovanni di Silvabianca. My last encounter with Ardmore and Darkside having taken place, as my readers may recall, in somewhat unconventional circumstances at the Remnant Club, it was with some degree of misgiving that I renewed the acquaintance. My explanation of my presence at the Grand Hotel — namely that I had been retained by Clementine to trace the descendants of Sir Walter Palgrave and had thought my attendance to be of some possible value — met with a mixed response: Ardmore expressed his pleasure at meeting me again and enquired warmly after the Colonel; Darkside made various observations with which I need not trouble my readers —“nosy-parkering academic” was among the least offensive of the expressions he employed. I treated these, I need hardly say, with the dignified indifference becoming to the Scholar.
“I am afraid that Mr. Darkside must think me also an intruder,” said the Count apologetically. After giving me a courteous greeting he had kept a troubled silence. “And Gabrielle, too, will say I ought not to have come. But last night I had suddenly a feeling that she was in danger here, and I do not think one can ignore such feelings — you will think perhaps, Professor Tamar, that I am too superstitious?” I shook my head, having found that such apparently irrational presentiments are often the product of some perfectly efficient process of unconscious reasoning. “Well, perhaps I am, but I could not stay in Monte Carlo when I thought she was in danger — I have been travelling almost all night. And now she is not at the hotel where she was staying, she has not arrived here for the meeting, and no one knows where she is.”
“Giovanni,” said Patrick Ardmore with gentle impatience, “she’s simply having breakfast out somewhere. Our meeting’s not due to begin until nine o’clock, and it’s only just after half past eight.”
“It’s nearly quarter to nine,” said the Count, “and she knows everyone is here. And she is always so conscientious about her business engagements.”
“Young Michael Cantrip’s with her — he’ll take good care of her.”
“I know he will do his best,” said the Count, but the anxiety remained in his dark eyes.
After glowering in silence for a while Gideon Dark-side found further food for his displeasure. He pointed to the far corner of the room.
“What’s that girl doing here? Haven’t we even got this room to ourselves? This is supposed to be a private meeting, even if we are keeping open house for freeloaders from Oxford.”
Looking in the direction he indicated, I saw that there was indeed another person present, though sitting in a large armchair in such quiet and timid obscurity as readily to escape notice. It was Lilian.
“She is employed as a secretary at 62 New Square,” I said. “Since it cannot be supposed that she is here by coincidence, presumably Miss Derwent has some reason for thinking her presence desirable.”
“A secretary? What do we need a secretary for? We’ve never needed a secretary at Daffodil meetings before. And if we do, why can’t we hire one here in Jersey instead of flying her in from London and putting her up at the most expensive hotel in St. Helier? Oh, I know what it is—62 New Square. That’s young Cantrip’s Chambers. She’s his little bit of fluff, I suppose, and the Derwent girl’s let him bring her over here at the expense of the trust fund. Well, he’s not getting away with it.”
“Do be quiet, Gideon, she’ll hear you,” said Patrick Ardmore.
It appeared indeed that she was aware of being an object of discussion, for her cheeks had grown pink and she was studying a magazine with the intensity of one who wishes to be thought unaware of her surroundings. Plainly, however, it was a pretence — the instant that Clementine entered the room she looked up and smiled as if at a potential rescuer. Clementine went straight across to her, stooped and squeezed her hand, and seemed to be uttering words of encouragement.
When the young solicitor finally joined us at the coffee table, Darkside renewed his objections to my presence at the meeting.
“Well,” said Clementine a little wearily, “I don’t quite see what it is you’re worrying about, Gideon, but if that’s how you feel about it, I don’t suppose Professor Tamar will mind leaving us once the meeting’s properly started.”
“My dear Clementine, not in the least,” I said. “I merely supposed that it might be helpful to those attending to hear what progress I have made.”
Clementine looked embarrassed.
“Well, actually — actually, Professor Tamar, this latest development means it’s not really necessary for you to go on with your investigation. I’m awfully sorry you’ve come all this way for nothing — if I’d known you were thinking of coming, I’d have tried to let you know.”
“I see,” I said, reflecting on the significance of this unexpected turn of events. “You will recall, my dear Clementine, that there were two aspects of the matter which you wished me to consider. The identity of the descendants now living of Sir Walter Palgrave and — a further question which you believed might be related. Am I to understand that you now regard both aspects of the enquiry to be otiose?”
“Well, yes,” said Clementine. She looked uncomfortable, but at the same time slightly belligerent. “I’m sorry, Professor Tamar, but when we first talked about this I was in a bit of a state. In view of what’s happened since, I know I was just imagining things. So I’d really be awfully grateful if you’d just forget the whole thing — subject to our settling your account for the work you’ve already done, of course.”
It was perhaps fortunate, since I was in some uncertainty how to proceed, that at this point a waiter entered the coffee lounge to enquire whether we included among our number a Miss Larwood, a Mr. Cantrip, or a Professor Tamar — a Miss Jardine telephoning from London wished to speak to any one of those named. I rose and left my companions with, I confess, some relief.
Despite the distance which divided us, I detected in Selena’s voice an uncharacteristic note of agitation — she seemed to be accusing me of having encouraged Julia to elope with the Colonel. I protested in bewilderment that I had done nothing of the kind.
“About ten minutes ago,” said Selena, “I arrived in Chambers and found on my desk a note from Julia, apparently written in some haste in the early hours of the morning. She says that she and Colonel Cantrip are going to Jersey and she has no time to explain why, but that the items of correspondence enclosed will make everything clear to me. By ‘enclosed’ she seems to mean ‘attached by means of a paper clip,’ and by ‘clear’ she seems to mean ‘totally obscure’—I suppose one can’t expect a very high standard of precision at five o’clock in the morning. The correspondence to which she refers consists of the following items. Item one — a telex message from Clementine to Cantrip, sent at lunchtime yesterday, asking him to attend a meeting at the Grand Hotel this morning and to telephone to confirm the arrangement. Item two — a telex message to Cantrip from the Contessa di Silvabianca, transmitted in Monaco yesterday afternoon, inviting him to have breakfast with her. Item three — item three, Hilary, is a telex message from you to Julia, apparently dispatched from Monte Carlo late last night, indicating that if Cantrip goes to Jersey he will be in danger of a murderous attack from the same person who is responsible for the death of Edward Malvoisin. I really can’t imagine what you expected Julia to do about it.”
“I certainly didn’t expect her,” I said, “to come to Jersey herself. In any case, there’s no sign of her here, or of the Colonel. I daresay the plane was full and they’re still at Heathrow or Gatwick. I really don’t think that you need to worry about her.”
“Don’t you? Well, in that case I can concentrate on worrying about Cantrip. Have you seen anything of him?”
“I have only just arrived, and he has not yet returned from breakfasting with the Contessa. Selena, is there
