The Wellington Bureau: A Quartermain Mystery

up.”

  “Father’s one and only friend.”

  “One is quite enough.”

  “I prefer a gaggle. You know I could introduce you to some beautiful young men. Do you like blonds or brunettes?”

  “Neither. And certainly no one under forty, so that rules out the motley crew you associate with.”

  Toby had found a fresh loaf and was cutting himself some of the cheese. “Blond. Father, rest his soul, was blond. I have this angelic friend called Percy with lovely golden curls.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Seriously, Anna, if you get bored or lonely, just let me know. My diary is cram-full and no one would object to me bringing my charming stepmother with me.”

  “My new career occupies me full time.”

  “An investigation agency did you say?” Toby bit into the cheese. “Well, it will make a good conversation piece. I’ll tout for business on your behalf by all means. Is that why you picked up the two bank robbers?”

  “I didn't pick them up. But you are probably quite right; I’m bound to need to do a bit of house-breaking in pursuit of my criminal. They can instruct me.”

  “Anna, I do believe you are teasing me!”

  “My brother said that when I spoke to him the other day. Funnily enough, the only one who doesn’t think I am teasing is Brigadier Butterworth.”

  Harris Butterworth, having given a warning phone call beforehand, visited Anna’s Holland Park residence a week after Toby. As it happened, however, he arrived at the same time as the twins returned from a voyage of discovery around several rather smart car showrooms, and they were giggling about the distinctly sceptical reaction their enquiries had provoked. They were still living with their parents and commuting to London, but there was room for them to sleep “over the shop” if need be. Their presence, however, clearly made the Brigadier more reserved and silent than usual, so Anna sent them off to buy a couple of geraniums in the hope that he would unfreeze a little. He unfroze enough to ask after the promised wine and he seemed happy enough to be taken on a guided tour of the house.

  “You have been very scathing about my new career, but what are you up to in London?” Anna asked when they were back in her office.

  “I still have some involvement with my regiment on an unofficial level.”

  Anna would have been interested to hear more, but the Brigadier did not invite further enquiry, instead he changed the subject, asking,

  “What is William going to do while his brother plays the chauffeur?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Deal with my paper work, if I ever have any. Cook, if he doesn’t object. They are both quite happy looking at cars.” A curious thought dawned on Anna. “Just how was it you knew that Ben was the driver?” The twins had taken their tests at the same time but Bill had failed

  “Perhaps Giles mentioned something of the sort to me.”

  “Nonsense! You’ve been checking up on them!”

  The Brigadier remained apparently unperturbed by the accusation. “It is always a good idea to know as much as possible about the people who work for you.”

  Anna was a little annoyed. “I’m sure you mean well, but I can deal with my own affairs. I don’t need a guardian angel.” Her annoyance grew rather than diminished and the Brigadier obviously decided that it was best for him to keep his visit brief. But before he left he asked, with the faintest glimmer of humour in his eyes,

  “Is business brisk?”

  “Brisk enough, thank you!” replied Anna shortly.

  In fact, had he called a couple of days later his sarcasm would have been unwarranted.

  It was at the end of the second week of March, nearly nine months after the tragic death of Augustus Andrew Quartermain and his daughter Emma, that Lady Parry turned up at Anna’s Holland Park office.

  “Are you the Wellington Bureau?” was her initial enquiry when Anna answered the door clad in a loose dress and a pair of woolly socks. She had not expected to be disturbed. The twins had been sent off to look round the National Gallery and to bring back a dozen or so posters and postcards of their choice for the office.

  “Yes. Can I help you?” It was chilly and damp and Anna asked, a little belatedly, “Will you come in?” They mounted to the second floor office and Anna turned down her music and cleared a space on the settee so that her guest could sit. “May I offer you a drink?” Anna was well trained in the social arts, although she rarely chose to exercise them. “I’ve mulled some wine.”

  “Coffee, perhaps?”

  Anna prepared some whilst making some comments about the inclemency of the weather. The woman seemed distinctly nervous. She was a small, fair-haired lady in her early forties. Her figure was trim, her hands beautifully manicured, and her clothes exquisite. Nonetheless, as Anna handed her the coffee, she observed that there was a faded, washed-out quality about her. Her carefully styled hair lacked lustre, her skin lacked bloom, and her eyes lacked sparkle.

  “Toby gave me your card. I wasn’t sure from what he said whether you really were involved in some sort of investigation agency. But, well, I didn’t want to go to the police. And I knew your husband. Years ago, of course. I was so sorry to hear about the accident.” She sat in silence for a moment, turning an emerald and diamond ring round and round on her index finger. Anna gave her time to sort out her thoughts and to broach the subject of her visit. “It is because you know Toby that I thought you might be able to help. He is a friend of Warren’s. They’ve known each other since they were boys. Susan Furnival was at school with me.” Another pause to twist the ring. “It is Warren I’m worried about.”

  Warren, Anna surmised, was her son. She vaguely recalled a Julia Parry who had been Toby’s girlfriend – still was, for all she knew.

  “I know it’s quite usual for them to get through a lot of money at that age. He’s just twenty-two,” she added by way of explanation. “But he was so careful at Cambridge. He never exceeded his allowance. There’s a lot of money in trust for him until his twenty-fifth birthday. He has been borrowing on the strength of that. But he has an ample allowance and he has a job now. He works for his uncle, Harold Gurney. You may know him?”

  Anna shook her head.

  “He’s a commodity broker. Warren is doing very well. But I thought he might have chosen to work for his father. He always planned to. But Warren has been behaving so strangely. He always got on well with his father. Of course they had their disagreements, but now Warren hasn’t a civil word to say to him. And he isn’t as open as he used to be. His whole personality has changed.” Her pretty face was crumpled with worry.

  “When did you notice the change?”

  “He became very moody last autumn. He had just come back from Europe. He went with Toby and Philip; that’s his cousin, Philip Gurney. That nice young man, Percy, was with them, and Julia and Caroline. Perhaps you know them all? They are all Toby’s friends.”

  “Andrew saw very little of his son and I think Toby only brought his friends to Quartermain House once. I do remember Julia. She’s your daughter I take it?”

  Lady Parry relaxed into a smile. “Yes. She and Toby have always been great friends. She’s set herself up as an interior decorator with Lady Caroline Farrer. They are doing very well.” She glanced around Anna’s room as if to ascertain whether there was any chance of her daughter’s talents being utilized there.

  “What is it you would like me to do?”

  This direct question seemed to unnerve her again.

  “Oh, well, I just want to know if he is any kind of trouble. I’ve tried asking but he simply won’t tell me anything. Perhaps Toby knows more about what my son gets up to than I do. I wouldn’t be at all surprised.”

  “Do you have any suspicions? Is there anything in particular that worries you?” Anna’s question was quite pointed.

  “Well, I thought...that is...I was afraid that there might possibly be a chance that, perhaps...”

  “You thought he might have got into drugs?”

 
Lady Parry looked at Anna with relief. She had read her mind. “Do you think it is possible?”

  “I have no idea. I could find out with relative ease, I expect. Toby is always trying to persuade me to meet his friends. Perhaps I’ll take him up on his offer and keep a discreet eye on your son and his friends. I might learn something.”

  “I would be so grateful, Lady Quartermain.”

  “Please call me Anna.” She could not see that it would prove a difficult case to solve. She would say to Toby, “What’s up with your friend Warren?” and he’d say, “Oh, it’s the drink!” or “the drugs!” or “It must be that woman!”

  “Well,” she said out loud, “I’ll have a word with Toby and see if I can worm my way into the heart of his little group of friends. I expect he’s got something on this weekend that I can go along to.”

  “Of course!” exclaimed Lady Parry. “The Furnivals are having a party. It’s Sir Angus’s birthday. Everyone is going, including my son and your stepson so...Oh!” She stopped short as a thought struck her. “I forgot! How tactless of me.”

  “I’m sorry, I don't follow?” said Anna.

  “Susan Furnival,” explained Lady Parry, clearly surprised that Anna did not understand the nature of her faux pas. “Toby’s mother.”

  Anna had heard mention of Susan, Andrew’s first wife, but knew little, if anything, about her. She had even heard the Brigadier refer to Lady Furnival, but she had never made the connection. She and Andrew had parted the better part of