The Ghost It Was Page 8

  ‘You won’t get it out of me by making me drunk.’

  ‘On one whisky and soda? I do not so underrate you; but I am glad to know that there is something to be protected. Let me vary my question. What is “it” that I shall not get out of you?’

  ‘Nothing, sir, nothing. I shall be leaving here soon.’

  ‘Now, why do that? Why should I have driven you out?’ Then, seeing the slight start that Rushton gave, he went on: ‘So it is I who have driven you out! Now why? Not room for both of us?’

  For a little while longer Rushton hesitated; then he walked to the tray and poured himself out a fairly stiff drink.

  ‘That’ll give you a bad reputation when Malcolm measures the decanter tomorrow morning, but mind you, you brought it on yourself. It’s like this’ — he settled down comfortably in James’ armchair — ‘I don’t trust you and you don’t trust me, and we’re both right. If our interests clashed, we’d let the other one down as soon as look at each other, but while they don’t—’ He raised his glass sociably.

  ‘While they don’t we may as well work together. I quite agree. No one suspects you and you can overhear a good deal, and shortly my beloved relatives will start trying to do a thing or two against me.’

  ‘Malcolm, he’s all against everyone.’

  ‘I’m not so afraid of him. It’s the humming bird that I mistrust.’

  ‘The humming bird?’

  ‘Cousin Arthur with that incessant clearing of his throat.’

  Rushton burst out laughing.

  ‘That’s a grand name for him, but I say, you did rub it in about that during dinner. I damn nearly dropped the water I was giving to the old girl, I wanted to laugh so. But, you know’ — he turned serious again — ‘didn’t you rather overdo it?’

  ‘Perhaps I did. But it’s such an infuriating noise, and I couldn’t stand it any longer. Besides, obviously our interests clash, and yet he comes up to me with a smooth smirk and a false offer of a possible friendship. I can always see through a hypocrite, and if ever there was one, it’s Arthur Vaughan. If he had his mother’s brains, he’d be dangerous.’

  ‘The old lady? Yes, she’s deep, she is; but she doesn’t care what happens, so one can leave her out. She’s about the only person here who minds her own business — except, perhaps, that Christopher. And I’m not too sure about him.’

  ‘Which brings us back to where we were before. What is your business exactly, and why isn’t there room for both of us?’

  ‘Funny you should repeat that word “room”. That’s just the trouble. It’s your room I want.’ Then, seeing that Gregory looked a little puzzled, he went on: ‘Literally your room. The room you sleep in. It’s next door to the tower. They told you the cock and bull story about the ghost after dinner tonight, didn’t they?’

  ‘They did. But I don’t see what—’

  ‘No, naturally. The old man, he just tells a story about two silly asses who loved the same woman. Damn fools! No woman’s worth quarrelling about, in my opinion. However, the story I heard when I was with the Honourable Mrs Marsh at Tower Court, about ten miles from here, was quite a different one; only village gossip, of course, but there’s often truth in the things that linger in villages over all those generations. The story they had there was that the father of the two who are supposed to haunt the house told them that he was going to hand over the place to the elder, and the younger one was to be given his share in jewels and then go away. He was to have a decent interval to decide where he was going, if you follow me.’

  ‘Yes, go on. But he didn’t go?’

  ‘No. Because the old man was a bit dotty, and the elder brother pinched the jewels and hid them and persuaded the father that they had been handed over. Consequently, the row wasn’t about a girl but about something worth having — jewels worth the devil knows how much.’

  In his excitement Rushton leaned right forward in his chair and for once abandoned his careful BBC English.

  ‘So, the younger did in the elder, but he couldn’t find the boodle, and according to the village gossip, he’s looking for it still.’

  There was a moment’s silence. Then Gregory repeated the words ‘village gossip’. ‘Haven’t you,’ he paused meaningfully, ‘got something a little more definite than that?’

  Rushton shuffled his feet. ‘Yes, I have,’ he said suddenly. ‘But not much. It’s just something that I heard said to Mrs Marsh by the fellow who used to live here. I was bringing in the tea one day and they stopped talking suddenly, so when I went out, of course I listened.

  ‘“So, you haven’t found them?” I heard Mrs Marsh say.

  ‘“No,” says the man. “Perhaps there isn’t anything there, but perhaps there is, because we have found some things.”

  ‘“Ooh! What?” says my silly old woman, all so excited that then the old man must needs play up to her and start whispering, so that all I could hear was “hinges. Still in as perfect order as when they were first put in. I oiled them myself and I’d have repaired them myself, only it wasn’t necessary.”

  ‘“But no jewels?” Mrs Marsh puts in. Well, I didn’t hear him answer, but I’m pretty certain that he said “No”. And it wasn’t long after that that the old man died.’

  ‘So, then you thought that you might join in the hunt too?’

  ‘Well, where’s the harm? They aren’t any good to anyone where they are now, are they?’

  ‘I wonder who they really belong to?’

  ‘Well, I didn’t expect to hear you ask a soft question like that! As if it mattered! Warrenton, he’s bought the house off the old owners, so I suppose they’re his, and anyhow, even the people who had it before weren’t directly descended from that precious pair of brothers.’

  Gregory finished his drink and got up.

  ‘I don’t for a moment believe that there is anything there, but I suppose you want to look for secret panels in my bedroom. Well, I don’t mind that in the least, so long as you don’t make it obvious to anyone else in the house that you are doing so. If you do, I shall let you down without the slightest compunction because I put myself first always. However, go on, do your best and good luck to you. On the other hand, if you overhear anything which might interest me, let me know. In fact, we help each other so long as our interests don’t clash. Is that a bargain?’

  ‘It is. But I don’t think, anyhow, I shall stay much longer. I’m beginning to wonder if there’s anything in the story. Up to now I’ve always been respectable. Respectable and dull, that’s me, and do my job properly if I have had my faults, but I’m getting old and I’d like a bit to retire on, and if I can’t get it here, I’ll get it somewhere else.’

  Gregory nodded.

  ‘Well, keep your ears open, Rushton.’

  The butler got up and returned the glass to the tray. Then he changed his mind.

  ‘I’d better wash this and put it back. Two dirty glasses won’t do. That sneak Hamar might go telling Malcolm.’

  He went out and returned a few minutes later with the tumbler washed and dried. As he did so, his official manner once more descended upon him.

  ‘Goodnight, sir. There will be nothing more that you require?’

  ‘Nothing, thank you. Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight, sir.’

  Left by himself, Gregory turned the interview over. The chances of there being anything actually hidden in the tower seemed to him to be infinitely remote. All the same, if there was anything, he might as well look himself. Meanwhile it was satisfactory to have got some sort of an ally. A dangerous one, perhaps, for if Rushton had just turned his hand to quasi-robbery — and Gregory was prepared to believe that the butler was a beginner — he would soon increase the circle of his peccadilloes. If blackmail was going to be included, Gregory had no intention of being the victim.

  With a mental note that he must be careful, unnecessary really, for he always was extremely careful of his own interests, he left the subject and sat down to write to Linnell of The New Light.
To that gentleman he pointed out that from the notepaper it could be seen that he had obtained admission into Amberhurst Place as he had said that he would. At the same time, he added, he had made no reference to the fact that he was in any way connected with The New Light. In so doing he was, of course, only acting in accordance with the instructions that Linnell had given him. Still, he would be glad if absolutely no mention was made of him, and no communication sent by the cover of which he might be identified as having come from the offices of The New Light because journalists, as Linnell could see, were not popular at Amberhurst Place just at the present.

  To this he attached a spicy account of the misfortunes of the reporter of the Periton and District Gazette, which he had written earlier in the day. He had been longing to get it off by the afternoon post, but his uncle had barely allowed him out of his sight all day. It was a pity; it would be a little out of date, but, really, he could not help that. In fact, reading again, he noticed that he had not unduly stressed the date of the events which he related. He must get it to a pillar-box somehow the next day. He could not trust the bag in which the entire letters from the house were sent to the post. People like Hamar always read envelopes, and Rushton would be sure to do so; he had no intention of trusting his new ally farther than he could see him.

  Picking up his pen again, he added a postscript to Linnell. In view of the difficulties he had to compete with this end, could he be given some private address to which to write? He dried the letter before the remains of the log fire so as to avoid the possible treachery of blotting-paper, and prepared to go, yawning, to bed. It had not been on the whole an entirely unsatisfactory day.

  Before, however, he had left the Long Library, something prompted him to give a last look at the tower which stood outside. There must have been, he supposed, some reconstruction in other parts of the house, but that old wing had been left as it had been in the early sixteenth century. It looked a suitable place for such happenings as were supposed to occur — even the chimney which came up from his bedroom and ended between the main part of the house and the platform did not give it a homely appearance.

  He stood and looked at the silhouette of the tower for some time until his imagination began to play tricks with him. Was there something which came out from the shadow of the chimney and seemed to move, here and there reflecting the light of a moon that was constantly going behind clouds, something that only seemed to be still when it reached the far end of the platform?

  ‘Nonsense,’ he said to himself. ‘In another minute I shall be claiming to have seen the dagger by means of which the younger brother died.’ He turned firmly away and went to his own bedroom. The old-fashioned fireplace was very wide, and the small fire in it had burnt low, leaving the room cold.

  10

  Three’s Company

  It had been done on the spur of the moment, and Arthur prepared to view it according as it might turn out.

  Some days had elapsed since James had given his dinner-party, and, so far, nothing had occurred which, in Arthur’s opinion, had improved the situation. The reporter of the Periton and District Gazette had — at least so Arthur guessed — obtained a neater revenge than he knew by inducing The New Light to publish a somewhat garbled account of his own experiences at Amberhurst Place, whilst sparing his own pride by making no reference to the event in his own paper. The paragraph had made James furious, but at least it had led him off the scent as to who had written the original offending notice.

  Arthur was not to know that that very paragraph had been the subject of a most icy letter from Linnell to Spring-Benson, in which the pundit of The New Light had very firmly laid down the rule that news to be news must be absolutely bang up-to-date, and not so stale as to be stinking, as he crudely put it.

  For the rest Malcolm remained on the same terms of foolish hostility with Spring-Benson, Emily continued to crawl about as if the end of the world was just about to occur, and the rector was still proving very obdurate. Even the sight of the costumes which Arthur considered to be suitable spring wear for ghosts had only faintly aroused the desire to indulge in fancy dress which many men nourish in secret. In due course, the rector would fall into line, but meanwhile perhaps, so Arthur thought, there was no harm in having a second string to his bow.

  Accordingly, when driving back from his office one evening he had overtaken Gregory walking along the road, he had stopped and hospitably offered him a lift. Gregory had no particular objection to taking that or anything else that was free. It was one of the happy characteristics of his nature that he never felt himself under any subsequent obligation to return the smallest or largest favour. He did not even worry to make anything other than the most perfunctory rejoinders to his companion’s remarks. In any case, Arthur probably wanted, sooner or later, to pump him, and he intended to resist that. As they drew near to Four Gables the silence was broken only by the incessant noise which had earned for Arthur the soubriquet of ‘the humming bird’ from his cousin.

  Still intent, however, on being affable on his side and, if possible, establishing an outward friendship, Arthur had suggested that Gregory should come in and take a glass of sherry, or something of that sort, before proceeding onwards. At first Gregory had demurred, but at that moment Arthur had suddenly seen the familiar figure of Henry Malcolm a little way up the road. It was then that Arthur had acted quickly, leaving subsequent events to form his opinion as to whether he had been starting on a new course or giving Gregory a last chance.

  At any rate, he had called out to Malcolm, and as soon as he was within a convenient distance for conversation had suggested that he should come in for a while and have a drink.

  ‘All right. Should be quite glad to for once,’ Malcolm had answered, managing to imply with his habitual bluntness that the invitation was unusual. Then he had drawn back suddenly. ‘Oh, I didn’t see Spring-Benson was with you.’

  ‘What of that?’ Arthur had passed it over lightly. ‘There’s plenty of room in the back of the car, and anyhow it’s only a few hundred yards.’

  Unable to think of a way out, Henry had meekly got in. One didn’t, he reflected, seem to be able to get away from this fellow, anyhow! Still, Arthur rather bored him; almost anyone might be a welcome distraction.

  As for Gregory himself, he tacitly changed his mind. He was not going to leave Malcolm in possession of that or any other field if he could help it, so that both of them were triumphantly and approximately simultaneously ushered through the door of Four Gables.

  Chance favoured Arthur. His mother and Christopher were both out and he was able to develop his ideas without the restraint which their presence would have put upon him. Somehow, he was never at his ease if either of them was present when he was making what he considered to be one of his tactful manoeuvres. Even their silence was too penetrating and obscurely critical. He found it easier in their absence to put on an expression of frankness, and began:

  ‘Very glad to have got you two together under a neutral roof, so to speak. If I may say so, I really think it would be very much better if we all remained friends — or at any rate,’ he went on as the expression of neither of his cousins seemed to afford exactly a welcome to this proposition, ‘that we should be neutral and not work against each other.’

  ‘Work?’ exclaimed Malcolm sulkily. ‘Some people don’t know the meaning of it.’

  ‘Very few people do as much as you do, I know.’ Arthur was quite undeterred and not in the least limited by what he considered to be the truth. ‘But all the same—’

  Gregory’s rather lazy voice cut him short.

  ‘What is all this talk about “work”? Who is working, and for what?’

  ‘We know what you are working for.’ Malcolm considered that he had been given an easy opening.

  ‘Quite. I make no pretence with any of you; nor with Uncle James. But can you both say the same thing?’

  ‘May I remind you that I do some actual work for him and that Arthur is earning his living as
a solicitor?’

  ‘You may, if you feel it is in any way relevant. But if that was all, I should not be here now. I am afraid that I can hardly put the invitation down to the kindliness that springs up so naturally amongst relations — so very naturally and so very often — in view of the fact that you have both consistently ignored me for years past and the invitation then has been conspicuously absent. It is only when I turn up here that you take the trouble to take up any attitude at all towards me. And in each case, what an attitude! On the whole, I am not quite sure which I find more repulsive, Henry’s boorishness or Arthur’s oozing.’

  Arthur determined to keep his temper.

  ‘If you are going to resent both, it does seem a little difficult to know what to do to please you. But I don’t know why you should assume that I am so entirely lacking in genuineness. I rather like you for the way in which you have created the present situation. Certainly, I admire you for it.’

  ‘You don’t, you know. What you really mean is that you respect me for it and are rather afraid of me.’

  ‘Put it that way, if you like, but I am never really afraid of anyone. There’s many a slip, you know—’

  ‘Meaning that I am in favour with Uncle James just at present, but that it won’t last long? Perhaps you are right. So far, I have not had very much time to study how to go on keeping the right side. It’s slippery ground, I can quite see. But not impossible. Otherwise Henry would not have stayed where he is for so long.’

  ‘Don’t call me by my Christian name.’

  ‘Just as you please. But why this formality amongst loving cousins? In any case, how have you stayed so long?’

  ‘I have told you. I do a decent day’s work.’

  ‘But one which lots of other people could do without being quite so irritating. And talking of being irritating, do for goodness’ sake, Arthur, stop clearing your throat. I told you about it last night, didn’t I?’ Without pausing for reply, he went straight on. ‘Then there’s another question. Why do you stay? Unless you are like that butler fellow who says that he must be fed.’