The Dancing Druids

although to what extent I cannot tell at the moment.’

‘But we don’t even know for certain that the older Battle is still alive!’

‘We must get the younger Battle to swear to him when we have caught him. I have hopes that that can be managed.’

‘Not if they’re in this together! He wouldn’t incriminate himself.’

‘I am under the impression, child, that he would even go so far as to hang himself if he could get his father hanged, too.’

‘But what makes you think——-?’

‘I will tell you all about it. I shan’t need the car after tea, George. Take the evening off and have too much to drink. I feel I’ve missed the cream of you. Court-martialled for insolence! Dear, dear! And why couldn’t you give your name to the Superintendent? Didn’t you perceive how embarrassing it was for Sir Crimmond to have to keep calling you George?’

‘I am sorry, madam, but I have recently changed my name, to be ratified by Deed Poll shortly, and I have not yet accustomed myself to the sound in public of the new one.’

‘And what is the new one?’ asked Laura, who invariably rushed in where Mrs. Bradley feared to tread.

‘Cuddle-Up, miss, with a hyphen,’ said George, with a wooden expression.

‘What!’ said Mrs. Bradley and Laura, speaking in unison.

‘Yes, madam. On account of the Sex. They pursue me. I have been badgered once too often. Don’t, please, misunderstand me, miss,’ he added, turning to Laura, ‘but the fact is that young women are apt to think twice before making up their minds to be called Mrs. George Cuddle-Up. It makes for awkwardness.’

‘True,’ Mrs. Bradley agreed, not daring to look at Laura who was showing signs of incipient hysteria. ‘But how will you explain to the authorities why you wish to change to such a name? I should think they are certain to ask.’

‘On the basis of being left a legacy, madam. Not for nothing did Mr. Milne write Wurzel- Flummery.’

‘But, George, you chump, that defeats your argument!’ shouted Laura. ‘The name Wurzel- Flummery did not act as a deterrent ! And the legacy will attract the girls!’

‘And, George,’ said Mrs. Bradley, ‘pause and consider. What will you do when you leave my employment and seek another situation? Your expectation of life is considerably greater than my own. Have you thought that not only a wife but also another employer may be of the opinion that the name Cuddle-Up is not the sort of thing to call after a man in public?’

‘I confess, madam, that the thought had not crossed my mind,’ said George, looking slightly less austere.

‘Then give it a chance, George, to do so. Besides (as we are already upon what presents itself to me as a morbid subject), think what it will look like on a tomb!—that is, if any self-respecting cemetery will allow it to be so perpetuated!’

Chapter Twenty-Two

—«¦»—

‘He asked the chamberlain why the wind had murmured so in the night:

Ibid. (The Lady and the Lion)

« ^ »

I admit I’m as dumb as a brick, but I can’t see how it all comes about,’ said Laura. ‘What was your pointer to Cassius? You tumbled to him before Mike recognized his voice as the Con of the murder.’

‘I think I was struck by the behaviour of the boy Ivor.’

‘When I was struck by the pebbles? Only, I don’t think he hit me. What was the point of it, I wonder? Why should he attack a perfect stranger? Because I was a stranger to him then.’

‘Perhaps not perfect, though, child. I think, of course, that Ivor is Cassius’ son.’

‘Then why does he call him his ward?’

‘An interesting question. I don’t know the answer. I am inclined to think, however, that he is not particularly proud of the lubberly boy. And that suggests a criminal characteristic, does it not?—that of a vanity so profound that he prefers not to acknowledge a son who does not do him credit.’

‘And how did you decide that the older Battle was not dead?’

‘That was a shot in the dark, as I think I have already made plain. The bearing of the woman—we may call her Mrs. Battle, for there is no doubt of her name—on the occasion of our visiting Newcombe Soulbury struck me then as suggestive and peculiar. Besides, as it turned out, either she or David Battle must have been lying. David denied any knowledge of her, you remember, whereas she seemed to know a very great deal about him.’

‘Is she his mother, do you think?’

‘Oh, no. I am certain she is the older Battle’s second wife. I think David genuinely resented the life his father led his mother, but does not hate his father for that alone. The true hatred is rooted in the fact that his father, having taught him to paint, developed his talent and then prostituted it.’

‘Ah! Made him paint phoney pictures and pass them off as Old Masters!’ said Laura, with deep comprehension. ‘Whereas David wanted to be an artist in the true sense.’

‘Instead of which, he had to learn the art which conceals art, like George,’ said Mrs. Bradley. ‘One of the chief sources of income to this crew of thieves and double-dealers lay in painting over the surface of genuine Old Masters so as to be able to ship them out of the country. These superimposed pictures (not bad in themselves, for, after all, they had to employ artists to do them) bore no resemblance in subject-matter or in treatment to the originals. You remember the picture bought for ten shillings a year or so ago, and exhibited later at the Antique Dealers Fair at Grosvenor House?— ’

‘With the contemporary portrait of Henry VIII underneath the top layer? Gosh, yes! said Laura, with great interest. ’Well, but how does Toro come into it? Was he one of them?

‘Mr. Allwright was first suborned and then victimized, child, I fancy, but that remains to be proved. We also have to discover the whereabouts of the older Battle.’

‘Now the game’s up, David will give him away, if he hates him as much as you say,’ pronounced Laura, with confidence. Mrs. Bradley shook her head.

‘I know I said he would risk being hanged to do so, but I’ve changed my mind. David’s is not a strong character, and he is himself too deeply implicated to be in a position to give anybody away.’

‘But he doesn’t know yet that he’s suspected, unless Cassius can get a message through to him.’

‘Which Cassius, I think, would be very foolish to attempt. What charge will be preferred against Cassius himself in the matter of the pictures I do not know. The police have a good deal of work to do there, and may even have to grant him bail while they do it. But— ’

‘But to pin the murder, or any complicity in the murder, on him at present is a vastly different matter,’ said Laura. ‘I get it. In fact, as I see it, it won’t be possible, you know, to prove anything much against him, even in the matter of the pictures. I should think he’s a downy old bird, and not very likely to walk into any traps. Who is there who might blow the gaff on him?’

‘I don’t imagine that there is anybody, child. He was not even the person who cut off the head and hands of the dead man up at the Druids’ Circle. That was the older Battle. One could tell by his voice, which we heard, you remember, on the dig.’

‘Pity Mike wasn’t there. He’d have jumped on him at once. Still, there may be another chance of that. Oh, well! Here’s hoping!’

‘And yet, you know,’ said O’Hara, when he also discussed the case with Mrs. Bradley, ‘I feel we ought to be able to get those fellows for Toro’s death. I mean, by that, that they’ve made a good many mistakes. Surely we can trip them up on one of them!’

‘What mistakes would you say they have made?’ Mrs. Bradley enquired.

‘To begin with, there was the shocking error of mistaking me for somebody else on the day of that run. By the