'Home, Harry,' Don said, then as Harry whisked them towards the white-faced, olive-green shuttered house at the far end of Upper Brook Mews that had been Don's London home for the past six years, he went on, 'Is Guido all right?'
Julia forced a smile.
'He's fine. He was only talking about you yesterday. You know about this company thing of his? He wants you on the board. But that doesn't matter right now. He'll talk to you about it. He has so many plans. He...' She broke off and looked out of the window, her hands turning into fists.
Don lit a cigarette, raised his eyebrows thoughtfully and wondered what was wrong. He hoped Guido hadn't been fooling around with some woman. He thought it unlikely for he knew how devoted Guido was to Julia, but one never knew.
Harry pulled up outside 25a, Upper Brook Mews, slid out of the car and held the car door open. He gave Julia a smart salute and her distracted smile disturbed him. Don led her into the big, restful lounge.
'Sit down, Julia,' he said. 'Have a cigarette and relax. How about a sherry or a martini?' 'I'd love a sherry.'
Don touched the bell and then carried a box of cigarettes over to Julia and put it on the table beside her.
He was lighting her cigarette when Cherry, Don's butler and major-domo, came into the room.
Cherry was tall and bulky with a pink and white complexion and several pink chins. He had often been mistaken for an Archbishop, and in spite of his sixty-odd years, he carried himself with surprising sprightliness.
'You rang, sir?' he said in his rich, fruity voice. 'Mrs Ferenci would like a sherry,' Don said. 'I'll have a whiskey'
'Certainly, sir,' Cherry said and inclined his head towards Julia. His fat, pink face showed reserved approval.
Suspicious of American women, he had long since decided that Julia was an exception. He was satisfied that she knew how to behave in any situation and also that she was wealthy. These two qualifications for Cherry's approval were essential.
When he had served the drinks and had silently departed, Don stretched out his long legs and smiled encouragingly at Julia.
'Well, let's have it. You're acting very mysteriously. Has Guido run off with some wild-eyed filly?'
'Of course not,' Julia said. 'That would be something I could deal with myself. No, I'm really worried, Den. He's received a horrible, threatening letter.'
Don showed his relief with a grin.
'My dear Julia, you mustn't worry about that kind of thing. People with Guido's type of money are always getting threatening letters. The world is full of jealous crackpots. It doesn't mean a thing.'
'But I'm sure it does. This - this creature is demanding ten thousand pounds. He says if Guido doesn't pay up tonight...'
Her voice faltered. 'He says he will kill him. It's horrible, Don.'
Don frowned.
'Ten thousand? He's ambitious, isn't he? Have you the letter with you?'
'Guido threw it away. He just won't take it seriously. I wanted him to tell the police, but he won't hear of it. You know how obstinate he can be. He says this Tortoise is either a madman or someone pulling his leg .'
'Tortoise? What tortoise?'
'That's how the writer of the letter signs himself.'
Don laughed.
'Well, there you are. He must be a crackpot. Now if he had signed himself the serpent or the wolf or something like that, there might be something in it. But a tortoise! Look, Julia, you mustn't fuss about this. Maybe it's one of Guido's racing pals playing a poor kind of joke.'
Julia shook her head.
'That's what Guido says, but I don't believe it. He received the letter last Tuesday. I've been getting more and more worked up.
The money is to be paid tonight. Well, this morning... ' She stopped, biting her lip.
'What happened this morning?' Julia tried unsuccessfully to control a little shiver. 'We were at breakfast. I saw something moving on the floor. For a moment I thought it was a rat. It gave me an awful shock. Then I saw it was a tortoise. There was a piece of paper pasted across its shell. On the paper was a typewritten message. It said the ten thousand would be collected by a messenger at nine о 'clock tonight. If the money wasn't given to the messenger, Guido would die. Oh, Don, it really scares me. It's horrible.'
'That seems to be carrying a joke rather far,' Don said. 'How did the tortoise get into the house?' 'I don't know. I begged Guido to call the police, but he wouldn 't. He said if it got into the papers, everyone would laugh at him. You know how sensitive he is.' Don rubbed his jaw. 'What are you two doing tonight?'
'Guido wants to listen to Otello from the Scala on the radio. Don't you think we should tell the police?' Don hesitated, then shook his head.
'I think it would be a mistake as Guido is so set against it, Julia. A thing like this could get into the press and that type of publicity wouldn't be good for Guido. Let's face it. Suppose he did tell the police. What would they do? They might send a constable to guard the house, but one constable isn't going to stop a determined blackmailer if this chap is a blackmailer, which I doubt. I agree with you we should take precautions. I don't think for a moment there is any danger, but I can understand how you feel. I'll come along tonight with Harry. I'll tell Guido I was passing and dropped in on the off chance you two would be in. I'm quite sure nothing is going to happen, Julia, but I want to set your mind at rest.
