“My dear fellow,” said Edgar again, “I will certainly make sure all the paths in the woods are cleared and all dead branches trimmed off. I must apologise for my hobby having led to your accident.”
“A hot bath will prevent any stiffness,” said Geraldine firmly. “Alec, would you be so kind—”
“I’ll give him a hand up the stairs,” offered Crowley, sauntering across the terrace from his seat on the parapet. “Come along, old chap.”
Alec looked at him with narrowed eyes, but made no comment.
Crowley hauled Vincent out of his chair and gave him an arm to lean on into the house, with Laurette fussing over him all the way. He was already moving more easily.
“I think I’ll take a stroll,” said Alec, “to work off that magnificent tea, of which I ate far too much. Coming, Daisy?”
“Darling, I was going to go and see the twins before they’re put to bed.”
“I’ll come with you, Alec,” said Edgar.
The two of them tramped off and the tea party broke up.
Daisy next saw Alec when she went to their room to change for dinner. Plumping down on the bed she said, “You think there’s something fishy about it, don’t you?”
“About what? Thank heaven Geraldine’s said no starched shirts and stiff collars.”
“Don’t change the subject. About Vincent’s ‘accident.’ You don’t think it was an accident.”
“Rubbish.”
“Then why did you march off to view the scene of the crime?”
“Nonsense. We didn’t find it. There are fallen branches all over the place. Not that I believe for a moment that there was any crime.”
“Then why did you interrogate Vincent?”
“Interrogate? I didn’t. Dammit, I’m a DCI, can I help it if my manner suggests…” He was silent for a moment, then said in a voice intended to quell his own doubts, “It’s nonsense. It’s your speculations making me imagine things. A branch fell. Vincent dodged it and tripped. That’s the end of the matter.”
Daisy wasn’t convinced. She didn’t believe Alec was either.
FIFTEEN
Belinda and the boys, offered a choice of joining the adults for dinner or supping á trois in the breakfast room, had unanimously chosen the latter. Daisy still felt responsible for Martha though. She was shy with everyone else, and they tended to ignore her. So, on their way down to dinner, Daisy and Alec collected her.
She was looking very pretty in a lilac crêpe frock, and very pregnant in spite of the slimming effect of diagonal trimming—the latest thing, according to Madge. A mother-of-pearl necklace and earrings were her only ornaments. She had refused to buy even the simplest of jewelry, though Tommy had agreed that charging the estate for dress expenses was permissible, as long as they were modest.
Sammy wouldn’t like it. They had always paid their own way.
They had just settled in the drawing room, and Edgar was asking what they would like to drink, when Lowecroft came in. He came over to Alec and leant down to say in a hushed voice, “A trunk call, sir. From London. Will you take it in his lordship’s study?”
“Alec, they can’t—!”
“I hope it’s just some information I’ve been waiting for.” He stood up. “Yes, the study, please, Lowecroft.”
“I shall switch the instrument through immediately, sir.”
Alec excused himself and went out, leaving Daisy fuming. Though she had said, “They can’t,” she knew very well that “they” could call him back to the Yard if they were shorthanded. It was all very well hoping the call was to provide information he expected, but she had had too many holidays interrupted by the call of duty to have much faith.
“What’s wrong?” Martha was dismayed.
“Oh, sorry, was I scowling? Nothing, probably.” An idea had struck Daisy: The only information she was aware of that Alec might expect was news from his American acquaintances about Martha’s Sam.
Which might be good news or might—from what she knew of rumrunners—be very bad indeed.
She was glad of the distraction when Frank Crowley brought her Dubonnet and Martha’s gin and lime with water instead of gin. Deserting Raymond, next to whom he had been seated, he sat down beside Martha and started chatting with her about their respective Caribbean island homes.
Laurette came in, followed by Vincent, limping along supported by Ernest. Alec returned a moment later.
Daisy raised her eyebrows at him. Flashing a glance towards Martha, he shook his head. He went over to get the whisky Edgar had poured him, then joined Raymond, leaving Daisy to wonder what he meant. Official business he couldn’t tell her about till they were alone? Or bad news he didn’t want to break to Martha in public?