Meet The Baron

shoulders, and Gerry Long seemed to realise that the storm had blown over for him. He was smiling in real amusement now.

It was in this atmosphere that Detective-Inspector William Bristow found himself when he arrived in response to Tring’s telephone-call. The detective heard the story, briefly outlined by Tring. The accident to Lady Kenton — how he hated the sound of that woman’s name! — the check-up on the gifts, suggested by Mannering, the discovery that the pearls were missing, the finding of the lakes on Gerry Long a few minutes later. Tring was very brisk and official throughout his recital.

“What made you think Long had them?” Bristow demanded pertinently.

Tanker shrugged his shoulders.

“He happened to be just outside, sir, when I opened the door. “Trouble?” he asked. “Pearls gone,” ses I, and he moved his hand towards his pocket, sir. I just slipped mine in after he’d stopped thinking about it and found ‘em.”

It was a little unorthodox, Bristow thought, but the end had justified the means, and he took the situation in hand immediately. He left Tring and the other Yard man to watch the library, asked Mason to guard the door against the unlikely eventuality of a further raid, and suggested to the Colonel that they should have a quiet talk.

Ten minutes after the detective had arrived all five men were sitting in the Colonel’s study, one of the few rooms in the house which had not been delivered up to the celebrations.

The Colonel, much more cheerful now that the possibility of a scandal had disappeared, rang for whisky. Mannering watched the reactions of Gerry Long very carefully, and he was more puzzled than ever.

He told himself that Long had been eager for that stimulant. The American knew something. What was it ?

They didn’t find out that evening. Bristow asked a dozen catch-questions, but Long stuck to his story. The dummy necklace, he maintained, must have been slipped into his pocket. It was possible, of course, that it had been inserted after Lady Kenton’s fall, but it might have been before that. From his knowledge of precious stones he was inclined to believe that the pearls he had commented upon to Lady Kenton had been genuine, but the light had been poor, and he had not touched them; he couldn’t be certain.

“You’re sure you didn’t touch them?” asked Bristow.

“Ask Mannering,” said Long, with a quick smile.

Mannering smiled and nodded.

“That’s beyond doubt,” he said. “Neither of them touched the pearls — nor did I, for that matter. We were too anxious to rescue Lady Kenton.”

Bristow managed a smile, but his expression was sour.

“Well, gentlemen,” he said, “we’ve no real proof that the pearls were stolen during that little episode. They might have disappeared any time during the day. It looks,” he added thoughtfully, “as if someone exchanged the real pearls for dummies, and afterwards slipped the dummies into Mr. Long’s pocket.”

“Thanks,” drawled Gerry.

“But why remove the dummies at all ?” demanded Mannering.

Bristow shrugged his shoulders.

“I just can’t say,” he said. “I will do everything I can, Mr Wagnall, to recover the pearls, but I can promise nothing. It’s been cleverly done — very cleverly.”

Mannering smiled a little, but his satisfaction at the success of the haul was marred by the discovery of the dummies. Someone else had had their eyes on the pearls, and he would have liked to know who it was; but there was one thing that helped him: the trail was so hopelessly confused that no one was likely to get near the genuine string; certainly he had nothing of which to complain.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A SUSPECT

MANNERING WAS NOT SURPRISED ON THE FOLLOWING MORNING to find Gerry Long waiting for him in the lounge of the Elan. The American looked cheerful enough, but inwardly, Mannering thought, he was very worried. It was not long before he broached the affair of the previous afternoon, and Mannering knew that the other had been thinking about it a great deal.

“It’s all right, so far as it goes,” Long said, as the two men walked towards the Junior Carlton, “but I’m damned sure that Belton’s suspicious of me, Mannering. And I don’t quite know what to make of that detective. It’s not good enough.”

“You mean,” said Mannering thoughtfully, “that if you could find who really took the necklace you’d be able to clear yourself ?”

“That’s about the size of it,” admitted Long.

“How are you going to set about it?” asked Mannering.

The American shrugged his shoulders.

“How can I ?” he demanded. “If your police can’t . . .”

“You could employ a private detective,” suggested Mannering.

Long laughed, without much humour.

“Another specimen like that stuffed dummy Mason?”

“Well,” said Mannering with a short laugh, “the only other thing you can do is to hope that the Yard finds the thing. It isn’t as if you had any idea who took them.”