The Seven Dials mystery
swung her leg over the sill. The night was a fine one, cold and still.
There was starlight but no moon.
She found the descent very easy. Bundle and her two sisters had run
wild in the park at Chimneys as small children, and they could all
climb like cats. Bundle arrived on a flower-bed, rather breathless, but
quite unscathed.
She paused a minute to take stock of her plans. She knew that the rooms
occupied by the Air Minister and his secretary were in the west wing;
that was the opposite side of the house from where Bundle was now
standing. A terrace ran along the south and west side of the house,
ending abruptly against a walled fruit garden.
Bundle stepped out of her flower-bed and turned the corner of the house
to where the terrace began on the south side. She crept very quietly
along it, keeping close to the shadow of the house. But, as she reached
the second corner, she got a shock, for a man was standing there, with
the clear intention of barring her way.
The next instant she had recognized him.
"Superintendent Battle! You did give me a fright!"
"That's what I'm here for," said the Superintendent pleasantly.
Bundle looked at him. It struck her now, as so often before, how
remarkably little camouflage there was about him. He was large and
solid and noticeable. He was, somehow, very English. But of one thing
Bundle was quite sure. Superintendent Battle was no fool.
"What are you really doing here?" she asked, still in a whisper.
"Just seeing," said Battle, "that nobody's about who shouldn't be."
"Oh!" said Bundle, rather taken aback.
"You, for instance, Lady Eileen. I don't suppose you usually take a
walk at this time of night."
"Do you mean," said Bundle slowly, "that you want me to go back?"
Superintendent Battle nodded approvingly.
"You're very quick, Lady Eileen. That's just what I do mean. Did
you--er--come out of a door, or the window?"
"The window. It's easy as anything climbing down this ivy."
Superintendent Battle looked up at it thoughtfully.
"Yes," he said. "I should say it would be."
"And you want me to go back?" said Bundle. "I'm rather sick about that.
I wanted to go round on to the west terrace."
"Perhaps you won't be the only one who'll want to do that," said Battle.
"Nobody could miss seeing you," said Bundle rather spitefully.
The Superintendent seemed rather pleased than otherwise.
"I hope they won't," he said. "_No unpleasantness._ That's my motto.
And if you'll excuse me, Lady Eileen, I think it's time you were going
back to bed."
The firmness of his tone admitted of no parley. Rather crestfallen,
Bundle retraced her steps. She was half-way up the ivy when a sudden
idea occurred to her, and she nearly relaxed her grip and fell.
Supposing Superintendent Battle suspected _her_.
There had been something--yes, surely there had been something in his
manner that vaguely suggested the idea. She couldn't help laughing
as she crawled over the sill into her bedroom. Fancy the solid
Superintendent suspecting _her_!
Though she had so far obeyed Battle's orders as to return to her room,
Bundle had no intention of going to bed and sleeping. Nor did she think
that Battle had really intended her to do so. He was not a man to
expect impossibilities. And to remain quiescent when something daring
and exciting might be going on was a sheer impossibility to Bundle.
She glanced at her watch. It was ten minutes to two. After a moment
or two of irresolution, she cautiously opened her door. Not a sound.
Everything was still and peaceful. She stole cautiously along the
passage.
Once she halted, thinking she heard a board creak somewhere, but then
convinced that she was mistaken, she went on again. She was now in the
main corridor, making her way to the west wing. She reached the angle
of intersection and peered cautiously round--then she stared in blank
surprise.
The watcher's post was empty. Jimmy Thesiger was not there.
Bundle stared in complete amazement. What had happened? Why had Jimmy
left his post? What did it mean?
And at that moment she heard a clock strike two.
She was still standing there, debating what to do next, when suddenly
her heart gave a leap and then seemed to stand still.
_The door handle of Terence O'Rourke's room was slowly turning._
Bundle watched, fascinated. But the door did not open. Instead the knob
returned slowly to its original position. What did it mean?
Suddenly Bundle came to a resolution. Jimmy, for some unknown reason,
had deserted his post. She must get hold of Bill.
Quickly and noiselessly, Bundle fled along the way she had come. She
burst unceremoniously into Bill's room.
"Bill, wake up! Oh, do wake up!"
It was an urgent whisper she sent forth, but there came no response to
it.
"Bill," breathed Bundle.
Impatiently she switched on the lights, and then stood dumfounded.
The room was empty, and the bed had not even been slept in.
Where then was Bill?
Suddenly she caught her breath. _This was not Bill's room._ The
dainty négligé thrown over a chair, the feminine knick-knacks on the
dressing-table, the black velvet evening dress thrown carelessly over a
chair--Of course, in her haste she had mistaken the doors. This was the
Countess Radzky's room.
But where, oh, where, was the Countess?
And just as Bundle was asking herself this question, the silence of the
night was suddenly broken, and in no uncertain manner.
The clamour came from below. In an instant Bundle had sped out of the
Countess's room and downstairs. The sounds came from the library--a
violent crashing of chairs being overturned.
Bundle rattled vainly at the library door. It was locked. But she could
clearly hear the struggle that was going on within--the panting and
scuffling, curses in manly tones, the occasional crash as some light
piece of furniture came into the line of battle.
And then, sinister and distinct, breaking the peace of the night for
good and all, two shots in rapid succession.
CHAPTER XX
LORAINE'S ADVENTURES
Loraine Wade sat up in bed and switched on the light. It was exactly
ten minutes to one. She had gone to bed early--at half-past nine.
She possessed the useful art of being able to wake herself up at the
required time, so she had been able to enjoy some hours of refreshing
sleep.
Two dogs slept in the room with her, and one of these now raised his
head and looked at her inquiringly.
"Quiet, Lurcher," said Loraine, and the big animal put his head down
again obediently, watching her from between his shaggy eyelashes.
It is true that Bundle had once doubted the meekness of Loraine Wade,
but that brief moment of suspicion had passed. Loraine had seemed so
entirely reasonable, so willing to be kept out of everything.
And yet, if you studied the girl's face, you saw that there was
strength of purpose in the small, resolute jaw and the lips that closed
together so firmly.
Loraine rose and dressed herself in a tweed coat and skirt. Into one
pocket of the coat she dropped an electric torch. Then she opened
the drawer of her dressing-table and took out a small ivory-handled
pistol--almost a toy in appearance. She had bought it the day before at
Harrods and she was very pleased with it.
She gave a final glance round the room to see if she had forgotten
anything, and at that moment the big dog rose and came over to her,
looking up at her with pleading eyes and wagging his tail.
Loraine shook her head.
"No, Lurcher. Can't go. Missus can't take you. Got to stay here and be
a good boy."
She dropped a kiss on the dog's head, made him lie down on his rug
again, and then slipped noiselessly out of the room, closing the door
behind her.
She let herself out of the house by a side door and made her way round
to the garage, where her little two-seater car was in readiness.
There was a gentle slope, and she let the car run silently down it,
not starting the engine till she was some way from the house. Then
she glanced at the watch on her arm and pressed her foot down on the
accelerator.
She left the car at a spot she had previously marked down. There was
a gap there in the fencing that she could easily get through. A few
minutes later, slightly muddy, Loraine stood inside the grounds of
Wyvern Abbey.
As noiselessly as possible, she made her way towards the venerable
ivy-covered building. In the distance a stable clock chimed two.
Loraine's heart beat faster as she drew near to the terrace. There was
no one about--no sign of life anywhere. Everything seemed peaceful and
undisturbed. She reached the terrace and stood there, looking about her.
Suddenly, without the least warning, something from above fell with a
flop almost at her feet. Loraine stooped to pick it up. It was a brown
paper packet, loosely wrapped. Holding it, Loraine looked up.
There was an open window just above her head, and even as she looked a
leg swung over it and a man began to climb down the ivy.
Loraine waited for no more. She took to her heels and ran, still
clasping the brown paper packet.
Behind her, the noise of a struggle suddenly broke out. A hoarse voice:
"Lemme go"; another that she knew well: "Not if I know it--ah, you
would, would you?"
Still Loraine ran--blindly, as though panic-stricken--right round the
corner of the terrace--and slap into the arms of a large, solidly built
man.
"There, there," said Superintendent Battle kindly.
Loraine was struggling to speak.
"Oh, quick--oh, quick! They're killing each other. Oh, do be quick!"
There was a sharp crack of a revolver shot--and then another.
Superintendent Battle started to run. Loraine followed. Back round the
corner of the terrace and along to the library window. The window was
open.
Battle stooped and switched on an electric torch. Loraine was close
beside him, peering over his shoulder. She gave a little sobbing gasp.
On the threshold of the window lay Jimmy Thesiger in what looked like a
pool of blood. His right arm lay dangling in a curious position.
Loraine gave a sharp cry.
"He's dead," she wailed. "Oh, Jimmy--Jimmy--he's dead!"
"Now, now," said Superintendent Battle soothingly, "don't you take on
so. The young gentleman isn't dead, I'll be bound. See if you can find
the lights and turn them on."
Loraine obeyed. She stumbled across the room, found the switch by
the door and pressed it down. The room was flooded with light.
Superintendent Battle uttered a sigh of relief.
"It's all right--he's only shot in the right arm. He's fainted through
loss of blood. Come and give me a hand with him."
There was a pounding on the library door. Voices were heard, asking,
expostulating, demanding.
Loraine looked doubtfully at it.
"Shall I--"
"No hurry," said Battle. "We'll let them in presently. You come and
give me a hand."
Loraine came obediently. The Superintendent had produced a large, clean
pocket-handkerchief and was neatly bandaging the wounded man's arm.
Loraine helped him.
"He'll be all right," said the Superintendent. "Don't you worry. As
many lives as cats, these young fellows. It wasn't the loss of blood
knocked him out either. He must have caught his head a crack on the
floor as he fell."
Outside the knocking on the door had become tremendous. The voice of
George Lomax, furiously upraised, came loud and distinct:
"Who is in there? Open the door at once."
Superintendent Battle sighed.
"I suppose we shall have to," he said. "A pity."
His eyes darted round, taking in the scene. An automatic lay by Jimmy's
side. The Superintendent picked it up gingerly, holding it very
delicately, and examined it. He grunted and laid it on the table. Then
he stepped across and unlocked the door.