and fog of London. Their instructions were to find and rent a villa either in or near Siena.
Harry was left in charge of 25a while Don cleared up outstanding business, swept half his correspondence into the waste paper basket and cancelled the numerous invitations that were the bane of his life1 during the London season.
On Thursday morning, two days after her departures Marian telephoned to tell Don she had found a villa and he could move in when he was ready.
'It's on a hill a mile outside Siena,' she told him. 'There's a wonderful view, no neighbours and the villa is completely screened from the road. The rent is horrifying, but I didn't think you would want to cut corners so I've taken it for a month with an option to run another three months if we want it.'
On Saturday midday, a dusty Bentley nosed its way up a twisting lane, lined on either side by olive trees, through a massive archway, up a drive of flowering shrubs to a villa, red-roofed with dark-green shutters, that stood on rising ground overlooking Siena.
As Harry pulled up before the front entrance, Cherry appeared, his pink and white face wreathed in smiles. He came down the wide stone steps and opened the car door, giving Don a dignified bow.
'You look pretty pleased with yourself, Cherry,' Don said. He stared at the villa. 'My, my, this is quite a place.'
'It is eminently satisfactory, sir,' Cherry said. 'Miss Rigby is waiting for you. Lunch will be ready in ten minutes.'
An hour later, Don, Marian, Cherry and Harry were on the veranda that overlooked a magnificent view of Siena.
They had just finished a lunch prepared and cooked by Cherry: a lunch of ravioli, veal steaks with white truffles and ice-cream encrusted with candied fruits.
Don and Marian sat in basket chairs. Cherry rested his large haunches against the balustrade of the balcony: the furthest he would go to sitting in the presence of his employer. Harry was perched on the balustrade, his hands gripping his knees.
'You've done a good job,' Don said, fanning aside the smoke from his cigar. 'This is just the place for our headquarters. Somewhere in Siena is the man we are looking for. I'm sure of it. Now we've got to find him. It might not be too difficult if we could go around asking questions haphazardly, but we can't do that. He's bound to have a grapevine and he'd know fast enough we were making inquiries. Once he does know, we're sunk.'
'So what do we do?' Harry asked, shifting impatiently.
'You and Cherry don't do anything for the moment. You'll run the villa and keep up the standard that's already been set.' Don looked over at Cherry. 'That meal was right out of the book, Cherry. It's obvious you haven't lost your continental touch.'
Cherry preened himself and coughed behind his hand.
'If either of you could speak Italian,' Don went on, 'I'd let you loose in the city to see what you could pick up, but as you don't, the spade work1 must be done by Miss Rigby and myself.' He turned to Marian. 'We're going to dig into the history of Siena again. We'll go to the local bookshop and get all the books on the history of Siena they have in stock. I want to find out a lot more about the ward that represents the tortoise than we know already. When we have some facts, I can then ask questions, but they have got to be the harmless kind of questions a tourist interested in the history of Siena would ask, and not the kind of questions a policeman would ask.'
Marian nodded.
'There's a bookshop in Via Pantaneto. They should have all we want.'
'Okay, let's make a start. Harry, keep out of town. The less anyone sees of you the better. There may come a time when a new face will be useful, and that goes for you too, Cherry. Sooner or later, the Tortoise will find out, I am after him.
What I don't want him to know is I have you two helping me. Do you follow?'
Cherry, who hadn't forgotten the part he played in the Tre-garth affair, leaned forward, his fat face alight with excitement.
'I have come prepared, sir,' he said. 'I have my sword stick with me. If you will remember it came in useful in Venice last year.'
The picture of fat Cherry tackling an armed thug with his sword stick jumped into Don's mind and he had to make an effort to suppress a grin.
'I remember all right. Keep it handy, Cherry. You never know. You may need it.'
Marian and Don spent the next two days poring over the dozen or so books they had found at Pedoni's bookshop.
They sat together hour after hour on the veranda in the warm sunshine, oblivious of the view, searching for some clue that might ¦ lead to the Tortoise.
Harry busied himself in the garden and helped Cherry run the villa. Both he and Cherry cast anxious eyes at the other two as they turned page after page, waiting hopefully for a discovery that would give them some action.
On the evening of the second day, Don laid down his book and suppressed a yawn!
'Phew! I'm getting bored with this,' he said. 'Let's give it a rest. I'm going for a stroll in the town. Come on, Marian, keep me company.'
Marian shook her head.
'I've nearly finished,' she said, patting the large, dry-as-dust tome she held on her knees. 'Another couple of hours and I'm through. I really can't face it again tomorrow. I must finish it.'
'Your appetite for work is horrifying,' Don said, heaving himself out of his chair. 'All right, I'll go and find a nice blonde and paint the town red1. Don't say you didn't get the first offer.'
Marian waved him away.
