The Secret of Chimneys by Agatha Christie (good beach reads txt) đ
- Author: Agatha Christie
- Performer: -
Book online «The Secret of Chimneys by Agatha Christie (good beach reads txt) đ». Author Agatha Christie
âAll right,â he said hastily, âIâll do it. Youâll arrange the whole thing, I suppose.â
âMy dear fellow, thereâs nothing to arrange. Chimneys, quite apart from its historic associations, is ideally situated. I shall be at the Abbey, less than seven miles away. It wouldnât do, of course, for me to be actually a member of the house party.â
âOf course not,â agreed Lord Caterham, who had no idea why it would not do, and was not interested to learn.
âPerhaps you wouldnât mind having Bill Eversleigh, though. Heâd be useful to run messages.â
âDelighted,â said Lord Caterham, with a shade more animation. âBillâs quite a decent shot, and Bundle likes him.â
âThe shooting, of course, is not really important. Itâs only the pretext, as it were.â
Lord Caterham looked depressed again.
âThat will be all, then. The Prince, his suite, Bill Eversleigh, Herman Isaacsteinâââ
âWho?â
âHerman Isaacstein. The representative of the syndicate I spoke to you about.â
âThe all British syndicate?â
âYes. Why?â
âNothingânothingâI only wondered, thatâs all. Curious names these people have.â
âThen, of course, there ought to be one or two outsidersâjust to give the thing a bona fide appearance. Lady Eileen could see to thatâyoung people, uncritical, and with no idea of politics.â
âBundle would attend to that all right, Iâm sure.â
âI wonder now.â Lomax seemed struck by an idea.
âYou remember the matter I was speaking about just now?â
âYouâve been speaking about so many things.â
âNo, no, I mean this unfortunate contretempsâââ he lowered his voice to a mysterious whisperââthe memoirsâCount Stylptitchâs memoirs.â
âI think youâre wrong about that,â said Lord Caterham, suppressing a yawn. âPeople like scandal. Damn it all, I read Reminiscences myselfâand enjoy âem too.â
âThe point is not whether people will read them or notâtheyâll read them fast enoughâbut their publication at this juncture might ruin everythingâeverything. The people of Herzoslovakia wish to restore the Monarchy, and are prepared to offer the Crown to Prince Michael who has the support and encouragement of His Majestyâs Governmentâââ
âAnd who is prepared to grant concessions to Mr. Ikey Hermanstein & Co. in return for the loan of a million or so to set him on the throneâââ
âCaterham, Caterham,â implored Lomax in an agonized whisper. âDiscretion, I beg of you. Above all things, discretion.â
âAnd the point is,â continued Lord Caterham, with some relish, though he lowered his voice in obedience to the otherâs appeal, âthat some of Stylptitchâs Reminiscences may upset the apple cart. Tyranny and misbehaviour of the Obolovitch family generally, eh? Questions asked in the House. Why replace the present broad-minded and democratic form of Government by an obsolete tyranny? Policy dictated by the blood-sucking Capitalists. Down with the Government. That kind of thingâeh?â
Lomax nodded.
âAnd there might be worse still,â he breathed. âSupposeâonly suppose that some reference should be made toâto that unfortunate disappearanceâyou know what I mean.â
Lord Caterham stared at him.
âNo, I donât. What disappearance?â
âYou must have heard of it? Why, it happened while they were at Chimneys. Henry was terribly upset about it. It almost ruined his career.â
âYou interest me enormously,â said Lord Caterham. âWho or what disappeared?â
Lomax leant forward and put his mouth to Lord Caterhamâs ear. The latter withdrew it hastily.
âFor Godâs sake, donât hiss at me.â
âYou heard what I said?â
âYes, I did,â said Lord Caterham reluctantly. âI remember now hearing something about it at the time. Very curious affair. I wonder who did it. It was never recovered?â
âNever. Of course we had to go about the matter with the utmost discretion. No hint of the loss could be allowed to leak out. But Stylptitch was there at the time. He knew something. Not all, but something. We were at loggerheads with him once or twice over the Turkish question. Suppose that in sheer malice he has set the whole thing down for the world to read. Think of the scandalâof the far-reaching results. Every one would sayâwhy was it hushed up?â
âOf course they would,â said Lord Caterham, with evident enjoyment.
Lomax, whose voice had risen to a high pitch, took a grip on himself.
âI must keep calm,â he murmured. âI must keep calm. But I ask you this, my dear fellow. If he didnât mean mischief, why did he send the manuscript to London in this roundabout way?â
âItâs odd, certainly. You are sure of your facts?â
âAbsolutely. Weâerâhad our agents in Paris. The Memoirs were conveyed away secretly some weeks before his death.â
âYes, it looks as though thereâs something in it,â said Lord Caterham, with the same relish he had displayed before.
âWe have found out that they were sent to a man called Jimmy, or James, McGrath, a Canadian at present in Africa.â
âQuite an Imperial affair, isnât it?â said Lord Caterham cheerily.
âJames McGrath is due to arrive by the Granarth Castle to-morrowâThursday.â
âWhat are you going to do about it?â
âWe shall, of course, approach him at once, point out the possibly serious consequences, and beg him to defer publication of the Memoirs for at least a month, and in any case to permit them to be judiciouslyâerâedited.â
âSupposing that he says âNo, sir,â or âIâll goddarned well see you in hell first,â or something bright and breezy like that?â suggested Lord Caterham.
âThatâs just what Iâm afraid of,â said Lomax simply. âThatâs why it suddenly occurred to me that it might be a good thing to ask him down to Chimneys as well. Heâd be flattered, naturally, at being asked to meet Prince Michael, and it might be easier to handle him.â
âIâm not going to do it,â said Lord Caterham hastily. âI donât get on with Canadians, never didâespecially those that have lived much in Africa!â
âYouâd probably find him a splendid fellowâa rough diamond, you know.â
âNo, Lomax. I put my foot down there absolutely. Somebody else has got to tackle him.â
âIt has occurred to me,â said Lomax, âthat a woman might be very useful here. Told enough and not too much, you understand. A woman could handle the whole thing delicately and with tactâput the position before him, as it were, without getting his back up. Not that I approve of women in politicsâSt. Stephenâs is ruined, absolutely ruined, nowadays. But woman in her own sphere can do wonders. Look at Henryâs wife and what she did for him. Marcia was magnificent, unique, a perfect political hostess.â
âYou donât want me to ask Marcia down for this party, do you?â asked Lord Caterham faintly, turning a little pale at the mention of his redoubtable sister-in-law.
âNo, no, you misunderstand me. I was speaking of the influence of women in general. No, I suggest a young woman, a woman of charm, beauty, intelligence?â
âNot Bundle? Bundle would be no use at all. Sheâs a red-hot socialist if sheâs anything at all, and sheâd simply scream with laughter at the suggestion.â
âI was not thinking of Lady Eileen. Your daughter, Caterham, is charming, simply charming, but quite a child. We need some one with savoir faire, poise, knowledge of the worldââ Ah, of course, the very person. My cousin Virginia.â
âMrs. Revel?â Lord Caterham brightened up. He began to feel that he might possibly enjoy the party after all. âA very good suggestion of yours, Lomax. The most charming woman in London.â
âShe is well up in Herzoslovakian affairs too. Her husband was at the Embassy there, you remember. And, as you say, a woman of great personal charm.â
âA delightful creature,â murmured Lord Caterham.
âThat is settled, then.â
Mr. Lomax relaxed his hold on Lord Caterhamâs lapel, and the latter was quick to avail himself of the chance.
âBye-bye, Lomax, youâll make all the arrangements, wonât you.â
He dived into a taxi. As far as it is possible for one upright Christian gentleman to dislike another upright Christian gentleman, Lord Caterham disliked the Hon. George Lomax. He disliked his puffy red face, his heavy breathing, and his prominent blue eyes. He thought of the coming week and sighed. A nuisance, an abominable nuisance. Then he thought of Virginia Revel and cheered up a little.
âA delightful creature,â he murmured to himself. âA most delightful creature.â
Introducing a Very Charming Lady
George Lomax returned straightway to Whitehall. As he entered the sumptuous apartment in which he transacted affairs of State, there was a scuffling sound.
Mr. Bill Eversleigh was assiduously filing letters, but a large arm-chair near the window was still warm from contact with a human form.
A very likeable young man, Bill Eversleigh. Age at a guess, twenty-five, big and rather ungainly in his movements, a pleasurably ugly face, a splendid set of white teeth and a pair of honest brown eyes.
âRichardson sent up that report yet?â
âNo, sir. Shall I get on to him about it?â
âIt doesnât matter. Any telephone messages?â
âMiss Oscar is dealing with most of them. Mr. Isaacstein wants to know if you can dine with him at the Savoy to-morrow.â
âTell Miss Oscar to look in my engagement-book. If Iâm not engaged, she can ring up and accept.â
âYes, sir.â
âBy the way, Eversleigh, you might ring up a number for me now. Look it up in the book. Mrs. Revel, 487, Pont Street.â
âYes, sir.â
Bill seized the telephone-book, ran an unseeing eye down a column of Mâs, shut the book with a bang and moved to the instrument on the desk. With his hand upon it, he paused, as though in sudden recollection.
âOh, I say, sir, Iâve just remembered. Her lineâs out of order. Mrs. Revelâs, I mean. I was trying to ring her up just now.â
George Lomax frowned.
âAnnoying,â he said, âdistinctly annoying.â He tapped the table undecidedly.
âIf itâs anything important, sir, perhaps I might go round there now in a taxi. Sheâs sure to be in at this time in the morning.â
George Lomax hesitated, pondering the matter. Bill waited expectantly, poised for instant flight, should the reply be favourable.
âPerhaps that would be the best plan,â said Lomax at last. âVery well, then, take a taxi there, and ask Mrs. Revel if she will be at home this afternoon at four oâclock as I am very anxious to see her about an important matter.â
âRight, sir.â
Bill seized his hat and departed.
Ten minutes later, a taxi deposited him at 487, Pont Street. He rang the bell and executed a loud rat-tat on the knocker. The door was opened by a grave functionary to whom Bill nodded with the ease of long acquaintance.
âMorning, Quivers, Mrs. Revel in?â
âI believe, sir, that she is just going out.â
âIs that you, Bill?â called a voice over the banisters. âI thought I recognized that muscular knock. Come up and talk to me.â
Bill looked up at the face that was laughing down on him, and which was always inclined to reduce himâand not him aloneâto a state of babbling incoherency. He took the stairs two at a time and clasped Virginia Revelâs out-stretched hands tightly in his.
âHullo, Virginia!â
âHullo, Bill!â
Charm is a very peculiar thing; hundreds of young women, some of them more beautiful than Virginia Revel, might have said âHullo, Bill,â with exactly the same intonation, and yet have produced no effect whatever. But those two simple words, uttered by Virginia, had the most intoxicating effect upon Bill.
Virginia Revel was just twenty-seven. She was tall and of an exquisite slimnessâindeed, a poem might have been written to her slimness, it was so exquisitely proportioned. Her hair was of real bronze, with the greenish tint in its gold; she had a determined little chin, a lovely nose, slanting blue eyes that showed a gleam of deepest cornflower between the half-closed lids, and a delicious and quite indescribable mouth that tilted ever so slightly at one corner in what is known as âthe signature of Venus.â It was a wonderfully expressive face, and there was a sort of radiant vitality about her that always challenged attention. It would have been quite impossible ever to ignore Virginia Revel.
She drew Bill into the small drawing-room which was all pale
Comments (0)