Enter Pale Death(66)
“But before I can even expose her to that—I first have to keep her safe. Get her out of James Truelove’s clutches.”
Adelaide’s voice had lost its certainty when she replied. “Joe—how would you know that’s not where she wants to be?” She looked at him, her amber eyes suddenly filling with pity and fear, and she took hold of his hand to squeeze it gently in sympathy.
“Will someone tell me what precisely is going on here?” an angry voice demanded from the doorway. “The moment my back’s turned I come home to find my daughter, discarded garments round her ankles, sitting on the sofa, spooning with a complete stranger! A stranger who’s parked his red racer by my front door.”
Veterinary surgeon Hartest, moustache bristling with parental wrath, stomped into the parlour in his socks. “Good afternoon, sir! Do I need to fetch my shotgun?” Large, red-haired, smelling of the countryside and clearly at the end of an exhausting day, he reduced Joe to quaking confusion.
“Father!” Adelaide said crossly. “Joe came seeking medical help for a face wound and psychiatric advice on a personal problem.”
“Looks more like hands-on treatment he’s getting,” Hartest said, unable any longer to contain his mischievous amusement. “Are you billing him or is this one of your charity cases, Adelaide?”
“This is Assistant Commissioner Joseph Sandilands of Scotland Yard and he’s up to his ears in a murder case. The murder case. He was disappointed not to see you, Pa.”
“He seems quite happy with the substitute. Has the feller been here since eleven this morning?”
Hearing the mantel clock chime six, Joe was taken aback. He hurriedly shook hands with Hartest and made his excuses to father and daughter. “On duty at seven … must bathe and change into evening suit … Must find an opportunity to discuss the case and meantime thank Miss Hartest for filling in so effectively …”
He dashed off on the bicycle, but even the Swine could not go fast enough to leave his confusion behind and he arrived back at the Hall four minutes later, both cheeks aflame.
CHAPTER 15
ST. JAMES’S, LONDON. SATURDAY 23RD JUNE, 6P.M.
“Stop fussing, Ducks! The kids are just fine. I left them bathed and ready to go to bed. They were boring the boots off your long-suffering Emma, reading her a bedtime story. Swallows and Amazons isn’t really her cup of tea, I think.” Aunty Phyl settled at the table, twinkled at her escorting waiter and asked him to arrange for the immediate arrival of a bottle of Pol Roger. Phyl couldn’t bear lists and menus and preferred to give her requirements straight out as soon as she arrived. “We’re dining unfashionably early, aren’t we? Six o’clock? That’s more like kiddies’ tea-time. Planning to go on somewhere? The Ambassadors, perhaps? Now—who do you want me to help you watch?”
Lily’s aunt, slim, vibrant and wearing with professional elegance a gown of her own design complemented by a mist of Mitsouko, looked askance at her niece. Lily’s plain maroon crêpe de chine dinner dress was strained a little too tightly around the bust and drooped a couple of inches too long at the hem. The frumpish look was reinforced by an ill-considered pearl necklace and a pair of her father’s reading glasses with tortoiseshell frames.
“Gawd! I hope you’re in disguise, gel! I wouldn’t want to think you were letting yourself go. I took you for your mother until you smiled.” She looked about her at the other diners, noting their correct evening dress and general air of understated affluence with satisfaction. Phyl fitted in seamlessly. “We’re a bit mismatched, you and I. Not out of the same bandbox tonight.”
“That’s quite all right. If anyone wants to know, I’m taking my rich publisher, that’s you, out to dinner—so kill the Cockney. I’m aiming to persuade you to look favourably on my latest romantic oeuvre. I’ve written up the first two chapters already. No kidding! It’s been pretty boring watching his nibs over there … Yes … the good looking dark bloke, fidgeting with his gardenia, at the far table.”
Phyl unobtrusively located the target. “Oh. You’re supposed to keep an eye on him all evening? Not one of your more demanding jobs, then. I see he’s got his champagne chilling and his engine revving. But he’s nervous. Or perhaps just excited.” She flicked another glance sideways as Mr. Fitzwilliam looked at his watch for the third time in thirty seconds. “I see why he’s having an early dinner … not so much going on as going up?” Phyl raised her eyebrows suggestively. “I expect if you checked, Lil, you’d find he has a sumptuous flower-bedecked suite booked upstairs. I’ve seen him somewhere before … Let’s hope she doesn’t keep him waiting long. This is fun! I didn’t know you were doing divorces, Lil! Do we expect fireworks and a floor show? Anyone I’ll recognise?”