Faintley Speaking

Laura was both puzzled and excited. She was loath to return to her boat now that the house had at last shown signs of life; on the other hand, she felt that Mrs Bradley must be informed of this development. She decided to wait another few minutes to see whether there would be anything else to report, and was well-rewarded. Out of the shadows crept two more men, and after them another man who seemed to wish to follow them without their being aware of him.

The little port was deserted at that time of night, for the shops and the post office had long been shut and the local yacht club was down by the Hard. There was no reason for the hotel residents to roam about after dark, and the hotel bars were not open to the public. Sounds of the ten o’clock news, raucously loud, drowned all other noise except that made by a back-firing automobile in a back street. It was the time for treason, stratagems and spoils, thought Laura, tingling with excitement. Softly she crept after the two men, for the third had melted into the night and she had lost track of him. There was no approach by the front door this time, but a furtive slinking into the shadows at the side of the house. Laura halted and listened. She was anxious to know where the third man was. He made no sign. From the other two she heard first a slight cough, then a faint tinkling.

To anybody of Laura’s naturally lawless nature, the sound of broken glass was apt to act as a clarion call to action. She was across the road and in the shadow of the house in no time. A light had been switched on in the downstair room into which she was looking, and, as the curtains had not been drawn together, she could see that the two men who had invaded the house were facing two others. Each man was holding a knife, three men in their right hands, the fourth, who had his back to Laura, in his left. One of the men facing her was the stammering left- luggage clerk who had refused to let her take away Miss Faintley’s parcel.

Before the murderous fight began, four words were spoken. The stammerer… but he showed no trace of a stammer now… said:

‘Lastrea Filix-Mas!’

The left-handed man replied, scornfully, ‘Asplenium Fontanum!’ Both men spat, and the battle was then joined. The most extraordinary thing about it, in Laura’s opinion, was its almost uncanny silence. The room was deeply carpeted so that, except for breathless grunts as the contestants circled round one another, no sound was heard. The room was a large one, running (with folding doors open) from front to back of the house, and, as though it had been prepared as an arena, it was unfurnished except for the carpet.

Laura watched, fascinated. Suddenly the door into the farther room began to open very slowly, and round the opening peered the unlovely visage of Tomson. He also held an open knife.

Now Laura knew nothing much about the other four, and, in any case, they seemed evenly matched; but she had a strong distaste for Tomson. The broken window had been forced open, and the combatants were far too much occupied to notice a silent spectator. She began to scramble over the sill.

‘No, you don’t!’ murmured Bannister’s voice behind her. (So he had been the third man!) He hauled her back, thrust her roughly aside into some bushes, and leapt into the fray. He tackled Tomson tigerishly. The naked knife shot out of Tomson’s hand and slithered along the carpet towards the open window. Laura, who had crawled out of the bushes and was feeling murderous, shot in over the sill and picked up the knife. Then she pulled out the police whistle which Mrs Bradley caused her to carry, and blew and blew and blew.

The electrifying sound acted with its usual magic. Except for Tomson, who was flat out in the middle of the carpet, and Bannister, who stood over him licking his knuckles, the contestants melted away, some by way of the door, the others through the window. One aimed a vicious blow at Laura as he shot past, but she hooked him up neatly, and his head came crashing against the wallpaper.

‘But why did you bring the police along so soon?’ complained Bannister, when he, Laura and Mrs Bradley were having a night-cap on board Canto Five before he returned to his boat to sleep. ‘I was just beginning to enjoy myself!’

‘That was the reason,’ said Laura, squinting into her empty glass. ‘I didn’t see why you should barge me into the shrubbery and hog all the fun yourself. And where did you come from, anyway?’

‘I hadn’t gone, you see. I was hanging about to keep an eye on you, because it don’t become a young woman to join in private fights.’

‘Was Tomson’s knife any good?’ asked Laura of Mrs Bradley.

‘It is hand-made, and closely resembles (so far as my memory serves me) the one with which Miss Faintley was stabbed to death. Detective-Inspector Vardon will no doubt compare them.’

‘And are all the gang rounded up?’

‘There is no means of telling at present. We took two on board the dredger… those who thought to escape by taking out the rusty cruiser… and, as you know, five were captured in or near the house. You will probably be asked to identify three of them.’

‘Oh, yes. Well, I can swear to the stammering bloke who wouldn’t let me have the parcel, but the other two… I suppose they’re the chaps who removed the case of ferns from Cromlech Down House… that’s going to be more difficult. I’m not hazarding any guesses. If I’m not absolutely positive… and I don’t see how I can be… I ain’t saying nothing.’

‘Quite right. And now please go and turn in. I want a word with Mr Bannister.’

Laura poured herself another drink.

‘Here’s to both of you,’ she said. ‘No heel-taps!’ She gulped down the contents of the glass and said rapturously, ‘More to-morrow!’ Then she removed herself to her bunk, leaving the other two in possession of the saloon.

‘It was good of you to answer my call so quickly,’ Mrs Bradley said, in tones too low for her secretary to hear.

‘I came because of her, you know… Laura.’

‘I see. You are aware, I take it, that she is already engaged to be married?’

‘She doesn’t wear a ring.’

‘She dislikes what she calls the badge of servitude. She will probably refuse to wear a wedding-ring, too, when the time comes.’

‘Would you mind if I saw her occasionally?’