The Seven Dials mystery
"Yes," he said slowly. "Yes, quite so."
They looked at him inquiringly.
"I was just wondering," said Jimmy, "how we were going to begin."
CHAPTER IX
PLANS
Jimmy's words lifted the discussion at once into a more practical
sphere.
"All things considered," he said, "we haven't got much to go on. In
fact, just the words Seven Dials. As a matter of fact I don't even know
exactly where Seven Dials is. But, anyway, we can't very well comb out
the whole of that district, house by house."
"We could," said Bundle.
"Well, perhaps we could eventually--though I'm not so sure. I imagine
it's a well-populated area. But it wouldn't be very subtle."
The word reminded him of the girl Socks and he smiled.
"Then, of course, there's the part of the country where Ronny was
shot. We could nose around there. But the police are probably doing
everything we could do, and doing it much better."
"What I like about you," said Bundle sarcastically, "is your cheerful
and optimistic disposition."
"Never mind her, Jimmy," said Loraine softly. "Go on."
"Don't be so impatient," said Jimmy to Bundle. "All the best sleuths
approach a case this way, by eliminating unnecessary and unprofitable
investigation. I'm coming now to the third alternative--Gerald's death.
Now that we know it was murder--by the way, you do both believe that,
don't you?"
"Yes," said Loraine.
"Yes," said Bundle.
"Good. So do I. Well, it seems to me that there we do stand some faint
chance. After all, if Gerry didn't take the chloral himself, someone
must have got into his room and put it there--dissolved it in the glass
of water, so that when he woke up he drank it off. And of course left
the empty box or bottle or whatever it was. You agree with that?"
"Ye-es," said Bundle slowly. "But--"
"Wait. And that someone must have been in the house at the time. It
couldn't very well have been someone from outside."
"No," agreed Bundle, more readily this time.
"Very well. Now, that narrows down things considerably. To begin with,
I suppose a good many of the servants are family ones--they're your
lot, I mean."
"Yes," said Bundle. "Practically all the staff stayed when we let it.
All the principal ones are there still--of course there have been
changes among the under servants."
"Exactly--that's what I am getting at. _You_,"--he addressed
Bundle--"must go into all that. Find out when new servants were
engaged--what about footmen, for instance?"
"One of the footmen is new. John, his name is."
"Well, make inquiries about John. And about any others who have only
come recently."
"I suppose," said Bundle slowly, "it must have been a servant. It
couldn't have been one of the guests?"
"I don't see how that's possible."
"Who were there exactly?"
"Well, there were three girls--Nancy and Helen and Socks--"
"Socks Daventry? I know her."
"May have been. Girl who was always saying things were subtle."
"That's Socks all right. Subtle is one of her words."
"And then there were Gerry Wade and me and Bill Eversleigh and Ronny.
And, of course, Sir Oswald and Lady Coote. Oh! and Pongo."
"Who's Pongo?"
"Chap called Bateman--secretary to old Coote. Solemn sort of cove but
very conscientious. I was at school with him."
"There doesn't seem anything very suspicious there," remarked Loraine.
"No, there doesn't," said Bundle. "As you say, we'll have to look
amongst the servants. By the way, you don't suppose that clock being
thrown out of the window had anything to do with it."
"A clock thrown out of the window," said Jimmy, staring. It was the
first he had heard of it.
"I can't see how it can have anything to do with it," said Bundle. "But
it's odd somehow. There seems no sense in it."
"I remember," said Jimmy slowly. "I went in to--to see poor old Gerry,
and there were the clocks ranged along the mantelpiece. I remember
noticing there were only seven--not eight."
He gave a sudden shiver and explained himself apologetically.
"Sorry. But somehow those clocks have always given me the shivers. I
dream of them sometimes. I'd hate to go into that room in the dark and
see them there in a row."
"You wouldn't be able to see them if it was dark," said Bundle
practically. "Not unless they had luminous dials--Oh!" She gave a
sudden gasp and the colour rushed into her cheeks. "Don't you see?
_Seven Dials!_"
The others looked at her doubtfully, but she insisted with increasing
vehemence.
"It must be. It can't be a coincidence."
There was a pause.
"You may be right," said Jimmy Thesiger at last. "It's--it's dashed
odd."
Bundle started questioning him eagerly.
"Who bought the clocks?"
"All of us."
"Who thought of them?"
"All of us."
"Nonsense, somebody must have thought of them first."
"It didn't happen that way. We were discussing what we could do to get
Gerry up, and Pongo said an alarum clock, and somebody said one would
be no good, and somebody else--Bill Eversleigh, I think--said why not
get a dozen. And we all said good egg and hoofed off to get them. We
got one each and an extra one for Pongo and one for Lady Coote--just
out of the generosity of our hearts. There was nothing premeditated
about it--it just happened."
Bundle was silenced, but not convinced.
Jimmy proceeded to sum up methodically.
"I think we can say we're sure of certain facts. There's a secret
society, with points of resemblance to the Mafia, in existence. Gerry
Wade came to know about it. At first he treated it as rather a joke--as
an absurdity, shall we say. He couldn't believe in its being really
dangerous. But later something happened to convince him, and then he
got the wind up in earnest. I rather fancy he must have said something
to Ronny Devereux about it. Anyway, when he was put out of the way,
Ronny suspected, and he must have known enough to get on the same track
himself. The unfortunate thing is that we've got to start quite from
the outer darkness. We haven't got the knowledge the other two had."
"Perhaps that's an advantage," said Loraine coolly. "They won't suspect
us and therefore they won't be trying to put us out of the way."
"I wish I felt sure about that," said Jimmy in a worried voice. "You
know, Loraine, old Gerry himself wanted you to keep out of it. Don't
you think you could--"
"No, I couldn't," said Loraine. "Don't let's start discussing that
again. It's only a waste of time."
At the mention of the word time, Jimmy's eyes rose to the clock and he
uttered an exclamation of astonishment. He rose and opened the door.
"Stevens."
"Yes, sir?"
"What about a spot of lunch, Stevens? Could it be managed?"
"I anticipated that it would be required, sir. Mrs. Stevens has made
preparations accordingly."
"That's a wonderful man," said Jimmy, as he returned, heaving a sigh
of relief. "Brain, you know. Sheer brain. He takes correspondence
courses. I sometimes wonder if they'd do any good to me."
"Don't be silly," said Loraine.
Stevens opened the door and proceeded to bring in a most recherché
meal. An omelette was followed by quails and the very lightest things
in soufflés.
"Why are men so happy when they're single," said Loraine tragically.
"Why are they so much better looked after by other people than by us?"
"Oh! but that's rot, you know," said Jimmy. "I mean, they're not. How
could they be. I often think--"
He stammered and stopped. Loraine blushed again.
Suddenly Bundle let out a whoop and both the others started violently.
"Idiot," said Bundle. "Imbecile. Me, I mean. I knew there was something
I'd forgotten."
"What?"
"You know Codders--George Lomax, I mean?"
"I've heard of him a good deal," said Jimmy. "From Bill and Ronny, you
know."
"Well, Codders is giving some sort of a dry party next week--and he's
had a warning letter from Seven Dials."
"What?" cried Jimmy excitedly, leaning forward. "You can't mean it?"
"Yes, I do. He told Father about it. Now what do you think that points
to?"
Jimmy leant back in his chair. He thought rapidly and carefully. At
last he spoke. His speech was brief and to the point.
"Something's going to happen at that party," he said.
"That's what I think," said Bundle.
"It all fits in," said Jimmy almost dreamily.
He turned to Loraine.
"How old were you when the war was on?" he asked unexpectedly.
"Nine--no, eight."
"And Gerry, I suppose, was about twenty. Most lads of twenty fought in
the war. Gerry didn't."
"No," said Loraine, after thinking a minute or two. "No, Gerry wasn't a
soldier. I don't know why."
"I can tell you why," said Jimmy. "Or at least I can make a very shrewd
guess. He was out of England from 1915 to 1918. I've taken the trouble
to find that out. And nobody seems to know exactly where he was. I
think he was in Germany."
The colour rose in Loraine's cheeks. She looked at Jimmy with
admiration.
"How clever of you."
"He spoke German well, didn't he?"
"Oh! yes, like a native."
"I'm sure I'm right. Listen, you two. Gerry Wade was at the Foreign
Office. He appeared to be the same sort of amiable idiot--excuse the
term, but you know what I mean--as Bill Eversleigh and Ronny Devereux.
A purely ornamental excrescence. But in reality he was something quite
different. I think Gerry Wade was the real thing. Our secret service
is supposed to be the best in the world. I think Gerry Wade was pretty
high up in that service. And that explains everything! I remember
saying idly that last evening at Chimneys that Gerry couldn't be quite
such an ass as he made himself out to be."
"And if you're right?" said Bundle, practical as ever.
"Then the thing's bigger than we thought. This Seven Dials business
isn't merely criminal--it's international. One thing's certain,
somebody has got to be at this house-party of Lomax's."
Bundle made a slight grimace.
"I know George well--but he doesn't like me. He'd never think of asking
me to a serious gathering. All the same, I might--"
She remained a moment lost in thought.
"Do you think _I_ could work it through Bill?" asked Jimmy. "He's
bound to be there as Codders's right-hand man. He might bring me along
somehow or other."
"I don't see why not," said Bundle. "You'll have to prime Bill and
make him say the right things. He's incapable of thinking of them for
himself."
"What do you suggest?" asked Jimmy humbly.
"Oh! it's quite easy. Bill describes you as a rich young
man--interested in politics, anxious to stand for Parliament. George
will fall at once. You know what these political parties are: always
looking for new, rich young men. The richer Bill says you are, the
easier it will be to manage."
"Short of being described as Rothschild, I don't mind," said Jimmy.
"Then I think that's practically settled. I'm dining with Bill
to-morrow night, and I'll get a list of who is to be there. That will
be useful."
"I'm sorry you can't be there," said Jimmy. "But on the whole I think
it's all for the best."
"I'm not so sure I shan't be there," said Bundle. "Codders hates me
like poison--but there are other ways."
She became meditative.
"And what about me?" asked Loraine in a small, meek voice.
"You're not on in this act," said Jimmy instantly. "See? After all,
we've got to have someone outside to--er--"
"To what?" said Loraine.
Jimmy decided not to pursue this tack. He appealed to Bundle.
"Look here," he said. "Loraine must keep out of this, mustn't she?"
"I certainly think she'd better."
"Next time," said Jimmy kindly.
"And suppose there isn't a next time," said Loraine.
"Oh! there probably will be. Not a doubt of it."
"I see. I'm just to go home and--wait."
"That's it," said Jimmy, with every appearance of relief. "I thought