The Skeleton in the Clock

Ricky paused.

'I didn't think of anything being wrong, or even connect it with the house particularly. I knew my governor was up on the roof, trying to follow the hunt through a very powerful pair of field-glasses. As he always did when he had the rheumatics and it was agony to sit on a horse. But—

'Well, just as we were nearly to the front of the house, where there's a tap for the garden-hose, I distinctly heard Dr. Laurier's voice.'

Jenny interposed. She had crept into a chair opposite Ricky, both of them with their elbows on the table.

'Was it old Dr. Laurier?' she asked. 'Or the Dr. Laurier we have now?'

Ricky made a fussed gesture with the pipe. His eyes were hypnotized.

'Old Dr. Laurier, with the beard. The hounds were yelling, and there was the hallo-forrard. Only the hunt- servants had followed through the wood. Most of the field had ridden round; you could see a flash of pink coats coming, round the edge of Black Hanger, and hear the horses. But I distinctly remember Dr. Laurier's voice saying, 'Get the table-cloth out of the hall.’

'In the front hall there used to be a piece of tapestry, worked with what I then considered very funny-looking knights; they had it on a table. That's the most distinct thing of the lot: 'Get the table-cloth out of the hall.'

'Then we got round to the front terrace. There was my governor, lying face-down on the flagstones, looking just as usual: except that old Dr. Laurier, with the beard, was spreading the tapestry-piece over his head and I think his shoulders.

'I was so excited I looked across the road first there were two men sitting on the roof-gables of this pub, and the hunt streaming beyond. Then there was something: I don't know what Dr. Laurier straightened up. Your grandmother was standing beside him. When you're a kid, you never really know there's something wrong until you see the look on their faces. Dr. Laurier said, 'Miss Upton, take the boy away from here.' I could feel Miss Upton shaking through all her fifteen stone, and all of a sudden I felt as frightened as hell without knowing why. She turned me round and took me back. Then…'

Again Ricky paused. He put the pipe into his mouth and chewed at its stem.

'On my word of honour,' he declared in that same hypnotized tone, and dropped the pipe again, 'I haven't thought of this for years. Maybe you jogged it into my bead. Maybe it's sheer imagination. But I have an impression that I looked up.'

‘Towards the roof?'

'No, no! I didn't connect the governor with anything like 'death' or all the terms you might imply. It was a vague kind of wonder what he was doing down here instead of up there. I looked at an upper window, I think to the right of the front door. And I saw..'

There was a sharp rapping on the inside of the open door to the road.

Martin Drake — shut out, almost forgotten, feeling a sharp-twinge of jealousy at the absorption of these two in each other and their long familiarity — Martin jerked up his head at that rapping. The other two started as though they had been burnt.

In the doorway stood a wiry, middle-sized man whose-pince-nez, except for its gold nose-clamp, seemed to fit into his eyes rather than advance outside them. His hair, cut en brosse, was iron-grey. In an ascetic face, with somewhat hollow cheeks, showed a narrow fastidious mouth. His whole air was one of fastidiousness and extreme precision; and he carried a medicine-case in his right hand.

Despite the bloodless mouth, his voice was vigorous if soft. He smiled at Jenny and Ricky, making the countenance pleasant and human, and then looked towards Martin.

'Captain Drake, I imagine?' he inquired. 'I am Dr. Laurier.'

(So he's been talking to grandma, eh? Why did Lady Brayle persist with that 'captain' when they'd finished another war two years ago? Gossip, flying and twisting! How much was known?)

'Just Mr. Drake,' Martin said, 'if you don't mind.'

Dr. Laurier bowed slightly. Next he turned to Ricky. You could imagine him, at a desk, pushing a group of small articles carefully into line.

'In my opinion, Richard, it would be very wise if you returned home at once. Your mother is not well.'

Ricky twitched up his head. 'You've been over there?'

'Yes.' Dr. Laurier, not moving from the doorway, fired softly from a distance. He inclined his head. 'I don't know how many times I have told you that your mother has a definitely serious heart-condition. An unpleasant shock of any sort—' very slightly emphasizing the words 'of any sort,' Dr. Laurier's almost invisible pince-nez moved towards Jenny, and then Martin—'would be… most undesirable.'

'Then if she heard—' Ricky checked himself. He also looked at Jenny and Martin. Wretchedness laid hold of him and shook him as though with hands.

'I’ll go straightaway,' he said, and got up.

'I hope,' interposed Jenny politely, 'my grandmother is well?’

And this was a different girl from the timorous one of yesterday. Martin saw that with a shock of hope. Though she seemed outwardly placid, her breast rose and fell under the white blouse.

'Your grandmother, Lady Jennifer,' Dr. Laurie r returned her smile, 'is in excellent health. She was a bit disappointed, however…'

Jenny's tone expressed immense surprise. 'Were you at the Manor too?'

'For a cup of tea; no more. As I say, she was a bit disappointed you were not there for tea. She wondered where you were.'

'Oh, I've got to be out much later tonight I shall have to go home and change, of course. But I've got to be out much later tonight'

Deliberately Jenny rose from her chair. Deliberately she dipped over to where Martin was standing, and took his arm. He put his hand over hers. Dr. Laurier made no comment and no sign: a grey-headed statue in the doorway, his pince-nez opaque, the medicine-case in his hand.

'And — Ricky!' the ex-fiancee called.

'Eh?'

'You will lend us your car for tonight, won't you?'

'Of course. And…' Despite his perturbation, the old smile kindled Ricky's face. 'Look here, old boy. This man- of-honour business is all very well. But is there any real reason why you shouldn't stay with us instead of putting up at the pub? Can't you at least come over for dinner tonight?'

'I've been a fool,' Martin blurted: 'I'm always being a fool. -But I had some wild sort of notion that everyone here was an enemy.. '

'Who can tell?' murmured Dr. Laurier.

The words fell with soft chilling weight. It was as though a dagger had thudded into a door; not too melodramatic a comparison, because Dr. Laurier bad a certain hobby. Martin felt Jenny's soft'arm grew rigid against his coat-sleeve. And then: 'I beg your pardon!' added the doctor, and stepped aside.

Ruth Callice, brushing past him with apology, stepped into the room.

In her unobtrusive way Ruth was urban charm, urban fashion, invading a country pub. Her grey dress, the dull-twinkling ear-rings, set off-her dark-brown eyes and the full roundness of her neck. Ruth regarded everyone with smiling apology.

'Martin, dear,' she said. 'I've come to remind you about your promise for tonight'

Chapter 6

Some half an hour before Ruth's appearance, in the other bar-parlour with the clock containing its skeleton, Sir Henry Merrivale sat in a leather chair near the fireplace. Chief Inspector Masters stood opposite, behind a table on which lay a brief-case stuffed with documents.

And these two were carrying on in a way which would have sounded familiar to any friend of theirs.

'Now, now, Masters, keep your shirt on!'

Masters, large and burly, usually bland as a card-sharper, his grizzled hair brushed to hide an increasing