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.CHAPTER 19The Maybach crunched its way over the gravel, backed up and parked at some distance from the front door.Two men got out and stared around them.Their startled jump, at the sudden peal of a stable bell, betrayed their tension.The expression of the butler who answered the tug on the doorbell was one of polite puzzlement.He was in uniform but the enveloping green canvas apron stained with silver polish, duster hastily tucked into capacious front pocket, spoke of an unforeseen call on his time.He looked from one man to the other and seemed about to give them the frosty “The house does not welcome unannounced callers” speech he reserved for religious fanatics and shoelace salesmen.Until he caught sight of the Maybach.A butler can judge the status of a visitor faster than the editor of Debrett from a glance at his hat and his motor vehicle.Pearson evidently had a problem.Fedoras and foxy faces would normally be sent round to the tradesmen’s side door to run the gauntlet of housekeeper and cook but the foreign car spoke of wealth and power.He decided to play this one into the ground and wait for a further sample of their bowling.“Gentlemen?” He raised his eyebrows.“Are you expected?” Into the sullen silence that greeted this, Pearson hurried on with his prepared speech: “I do beg your pardon but the shooting party assembled yesterday and everyone went off to the lake at dawn.You’ve missed them.”A ragged burst of shots could be just heard in the distance as the bells fell silent.The butler allowed himself a playful smile and cupped a hand to his ear in a stagy way to draw attention to it.“Duck on the menu, I’d say.All the gentlemen are down there in the woods.The ladies are in the kitchen potting strawberry jam.Are there just the two of you, sir?” He stepped across the threshold and glanced enquiringly at the Maybach.“Have you brought your man with you or is he coming down by train?”“We’re not here to pot birds,” Onslow said.“Or jam.And there are just the two of us.” They produced their warrants.“Inspector Onslow and Sergeant Cummings, Special Branch.”“Specials, eh?” The cards were taken from them, spectacles fished out of the front pocket and adjusted on nose.The cards were subjected to an attentive examination.“Harold Pearson, butler.At your service, sir.”“Well, buttle then!” Onslow was growing impatient.“We’re here to see the boss.”“Your boss or mine, may I ask?”“Ours.The Assistant Commissioner.”“Ah!” The butler seemed to relax.“That makes sense.Mr.Sandilands is indeed in residence—but I do wonder if he is expecting to see you? He gave no indication.He’s gone off to the shoot.”“He’s not expecting us but he’ll be very glad we’re here.” He tapped the side of his nose.“That’s the name of our game—urgent and hush, hush.” He looked about him, eager to be off.“All you have to do, my man, is stop asking questions we’re not going to answer, point us in the right direction to find him and we’ll be on our way.”“I’m sorry, sir.” Pearson shook his head.“That won’t be possible.” Seeing the men’s shoulders flex ominously, he was quick to add, “For your own safety.House rules.No one may just step unannounced into a duck shoot already in progress.” He lowered his voice.“Will we ever forget the unfortunate occurrence in ninety-two when Admiral Henshaw most unwisely loomed, unflagged, over the horizon? No—you too risk having your fore topgallant shot off.”“How many guns out there?” Onslow cut through the butler’s jovial verbiage.“How many?… Oooh … five shot guns and as many rifles I should say.They’re driving the far lake this morning.East bank.Taking the long reach from south to north.Except for one of the guests who has elected to fish the near lake.The American gentleman.” Pearson’s face melted into an expression of pitying amusement.“Though how he expects to catch anything with that racket going on a mile away, I can’t imagine.Trout do not take kindly to being disturbed.Sensitive creatures.”“Probably just wants a bit of peace and quiet,” Onslow murmured.“Got sick of the conversation.We’ll try not to bother him.All by himself is he?”“Yes, indeed!” Pearson seemed to approve his perception.“As well as his fishing tackle he did take out a rug, a fishing hat and a bottle of pink wine with him.And called for an Alexandre Dumas novel from the library.I’m not seriously expecting cook will be presented with much in the way of a fish course this evening but we may well be treated to a revelation of the identity of the Man in the Iron Mask.”Onslow’s face tightened in concentration as he sieved the nuggets he needed from this swirl of information.The brief details of the armament in play and its disposition seemed gratifying to him.“Sounds like a lively scene out there in the greenwood,” he sneered.“We’ll keep our heads down.We’re used to dodging bullets.”“Ah! So I understand!” Pearson was almost waggish.He allowed himself the intimacy of returning Onslow’s nose-tapping gesture.“A necessary skill in the Branch.All the same—if you’ll permit me, sir, I’ll go ahead of you and signal your passage through.Wouldn’t want you to be mistaken for interlopers.There’s a quick way through the stables and past the laundry cottages.”Cummings looked questioningly at Onslow who, after a moment’s reflection, nodded.Harold Pearson whisked the large and vividly yellow polishing cloth from his pocket, presumably intending to use it to signal with, and set off to walk ahead of them.“Follow me, gentlemen.”He stayed his step abruptly, affecting to catch sight of the Maybach, and turned to them with an expression of playful reproof.“Oh my word! Black car, left standing in full sunshine? Any chocolates, flowers or springer spaniels in the back, perhaps? Careless guests have had disasters in the past …” Alarmed by the furious look Onslow threw at him and disconcerted by the abrupt way he rounded on him, blocking his sight of the car, the butler murmured, “If you’ll be so good as to hand me your keys, sir, I’ll park it under the cedar or in the garage if you prefer.It would be my normal practice.”“I’ll go check the motor,” Onslow gritted to his friend, ignoring Pearson’s outstretched hand.He left Cummings listening to a burbling account of the near death in similar circumstances of her ladyship’s poodle in ’22 or was it ’23 … that long, hot summer.He climbed in, started the engine and moved off smoothly, driving the car to park in the deep shade of a tree, facing out to the open gates.He returned and announced, “Nothing melting in the back but I wouldn’t want the upholstery to bleach in the sun.It’s the best leather.”“Indeed!” Pearson said, approving.“Such a splendid motor deserves care.”“You’re not wrong, mister.Now—shall we trot on?”Judging from the quality of the steely glint in Onslow’s eye that the moment had come to stop wasting time, the butler sighed, gave a slight ironic bow and trotted on.ONCE THEY WERE clear of the outbuildings and sheltered from the breeze, the valley drew them down into its green folds, intoxicating with its woodland scents of blossom, herbs and wild garlic.Birds of many kinds set up a cacophony of warning songs following their progress along the track.The well-drained soil was dry and resilient underfoot, the pathway drumming slightly under the heels of the men’s tough brogues.When Pearson turned to smile encouragement he noticed that the two strangers were looking about them, taking in their surroundings, assessing the steepness of the banks under the beech trees and the thickness of the leaf canopy, judging the direction of the shots in the woodland ahead [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]