The Daimler gathered speed, took corners easily, hummed along a main road where, judging from the sounds, there was little traffic. They went on for more than half an hour, and were well out of London when the car turned a corner sharply and went along a bumpy road. Soon it turned again, at the foot of a hill so steep that Percy had to change gear. They crawled to the top of the hill, and stopped.
The blinds shot up; sunlight streamed into the Daimler, dazzling Roger. When he was accustomed to the glare, he saw they were outside a small country house. Trees were packed densely behind the house. In front there was a long drive; lawns and flower-gardens, with tulips and wallflowers in brightly coloured beds, misty forget-me-nots adding a background of blue. It was delightful; and it overlooked sweeping countryside. The road along which they had come was hidden by a fringe of oak and beech.
“Out,” said Percy, opening the door.
Roger said: “One day you’re going to change your tone, Percy.” The little man glared, but made no comment. Roger went up three stone steps and stood beneath a brick porch, warm, browny-red. The door was of natural oak, oiled, not painted, and was studded with iron nail-heads. As he reached it, a man opened the door—a stranger and obsequious.
“Mr. Rayner?”
“Yes.”
“This way, sir, please.” The door closed behind them, and Roger was led up a wide staircase: wider than the outside of the house had led him to expect. He went across the square landing. A passage led to a window through which the bright sunlight glowed. Several doors led off it, and he was taken to the first door on the right. The man tapped, and opened it.
“Mr. Rayner, madame,” he said, and stood aside for Roger to pass.
Madame?
CHAPTER XIV
SHE wasn’t like Marion, Lucille, or even Janet, simply an attractive woman; she was beautiful—and young. She sat in a chair at a small bow-shaped mahogany desk, with the sun streaming through the window behind her, so that her features were in shadow. She smiled faintly, and indicated a chair; she didn’t get up and didn’t offer her hand.
The chair was placed opposite the window, so that she could sec every feature and every line on his face. She pushed a silver cigarette-box across the desk, and waited for him to light up; she didn’t take a cigarette herself.
She wore a white blouse, simple, plain, and fastened high at the neck. Her voice was pitched low; it was somehow less attractive than he had expected, with a faint accent he couldn’t place.
“Mr. Kennedy tells me that you will be able to help me,” she said. “I understand that you have a considerable experience of police matters, criminal law, and all the relative factors.”
“That’s right.”
“Mr. Kennedy assures me that your services are at my disposal. Is that true?”
“Yes,” he said.
She went on quickly:
“My husband is under remand at Brixton Jail. I think it probable that the prosecution would be able to prove their case against him. If it should be proved, he is likely to serve a long prison sentence. I have copies of all the statements he has made to his legal advisers, and I want you to study them. There are, also, details of the charge and a summary of the evidence against him, so far as we are aware of it. I want you to study all those papers and form an opinion as to the likely result of the trial. If there is a weakness in the case for the prosecution, I want you to elaborate it, so that my husband’s counsel can be properly primed. He is charged with smuggling currency from a number of foreign countries into this country; with smuggling sterling out of Great Britain to the Continent.”
“I’m no expert on currency,” Roger told her.
“You can assess the case in the light of the evidence that will be given you. You will work here—is that convenient ?”
It might take hours; a day; or several days. But Kennedy had pledged his services, and the obvious thing was to say: “Yes.”
“Thank you. What is your fee, Mr. Rayner?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you when I’ve had a look at the job.”
“Very well.”
“Unless you would rather deal with Mr. Kennedy,” he said.
She shook her head.
“I have paid him a fee for the introduction, and this aspect of the matter is now between you and me. If your work is satisfactory in every way, I shall not be ungenerous. It is essential that my husband should not serve a prison sentence.”
There was something else in her mind, but he didn’t judge this the moment to probe.
“Where shall I work?”
“I will have you taken to your room, and the papers will be sent to you,” she said. “You may ring for anything you require. While you are here, I would prefer you not to leave the grounds—in fact, to go no farther than the garden fence.”
