Fortune Is a Woman

  ‘‘Trixie?’’ I said. ‘‘Didn’t you take her with you?’’

  ‘‘No. I wanted to get around quickly and so …”

  ‘‘Where did you leave her?’’

  ‘‘In here—as usual.”

  ‘‘You locked her in?’’

  ‘‘I thought I had, but when I came back I found the catch hadn’t clicked properly. At least, that was the way I found it, and I see now it does stick if you’re not careful.”

  She was watching me, and I tried not to show how I felt.

  ‘‘I expect the door blew open and she wandered out. Have you asked the porter?’’

  ‘‘Yes, but he says he was off part of the afternoon. In any case I can’t understand Trixie going any distance by herself. She’s absolutely terrified of traffic.”

  ‘‘Had he—I suppose he didn’t see anyone come up?’’

  ‘‘No.…”

  I said: ‘‘ Well, she’ll be in one of the other flats. Some old lady’s found her wandering about and taken her in for a bone.”

  Sarah said: ‘‘The porter’s been round to them all.”

  I felt suddenly as if I couldn’t stand any more. ‘‘Look, Sarah, don’t cook a meal for me to-night. I’m going out again and may be late. I’m going round to see Henry Dane.”

  ‘‘To tell him everything?’’

  ‘‘Yes.… At least I think so. It’s getting completely out of my depth.”

  ‘‘I think you’re right.”

  ‘‘It’s a risk. If Dane thinks we’re not on the level he’ll blow the story wide open. But that may come in any case.” I told her about McDonald.

  ‘‘Oh, Oliver.… Is there never going to be an end to this?’’

  ‘‘There’s got to be—one way or another.”

  ‘‘I wish I was coming with you.”

  ‘‘I wish you were. You don’t know how much I wish that. But it wouldn’t do. I’ve got to see him on my own.”

  Dane was in. I thought I might catch him ‘‘between lights’’. He opened the door himself and said in his dry voice:

  ‘‘Hullo, Oliver. How did you know I was back? Come in.”

  ‘‘Second sight. In fact I didn’t know you’d been away.”

  ‘‘I’d a job in Scotland and stayed over the week-end. Gwyneth is still there.”

  ‘‘I suppose you’re just off out to dinner, or something?’’

  ‘‘Not even something. I thought of poaching myself an egg and having an evening with a book. What will you drink?’’

  I looked at my watch. ‘‘You can give me half an hour?’’

  ‘‘Of course. All evening if you want it.”

  We sat down.

  I said: ‘‘ I’ve made two appointments with you and skipped both. This is the result.”

  ‘‘Well, you cancelled the original one to get married, didn’t you? It struck me as being a very legitimate reason.” He smiled his sardonic smile. ‘‘First things first. Cheers.”

  I drank with him. ‘‘That’s exactly what I came to see you about, Henry. I’m in one hell of a mess—and partly at least because I didn’t put first things first.”

  The smile faded as his eyes went over my face. Perhaps this last week had left an impression.

  ‘‘How big a mess?’’

  ‘‘Outsize.”

  ‘‘Well, go on.”

  So I told him.

  He hadn’t an easy face to read. He didn’t interrupt me but stood there most of the time, first filling his pipe, ramming home his tobacco, then leaning with one arm on the mantel-piece, smoking and staring across the room. I thought once I saw his expression harden, but it may have been just the way his jaw set on the pipe. He smoked the way he did everything else, with terrific energy and determination, so that quite often his face was lost in a cloud of blue smoke.

  I didn’t make a good job of it. You never do when you need to most. And I couldn’t put over to another man the sort of feelings I had for Sarah, which had really been at the root of my mistakes.

  It took me a good time, and when at last I dried up he bent and knocked out his pipe and started refilling it. I finished my drink.

  He said coldly: ‘‘ One thing: when you said you’d got in a mess you weren’t exaggerating.”

  I didn’t answer. I felt I’d done enough talking.

  He re-lit his pipe. The light flickered over his deeply furrowed face, and I realized as I looked at him that I didn’t know him very well after all. I hadn’t an idea which way the cat was going to jump.

  He said: ‘‘There are two possibilities, aren’t there? And I suspect you haven’t been thinking very clearly about either of them. In any case I suppose you realize that if this gets out—and you say it’s getting out—you might as well take up market gardening right away. The insurance world won’t have any further room for you.”

  ‘‘Yes, I know.”

  ‘‘We all make mistakes. Good God, I’ve made some woeful ones. But this lot.… First you commit burglary. Then you fail to report death and arson. Then you compound a felony. And finally you commit a misdemeanour. It would be laughable if it weren’t pathetic. How d’you suppose the business world would carry on if everyone started acting like you?’’

  ‘‘I don’t suppose anything. I’m a misfit, and I know it.”

  He gave me an unfriendly look through the smoke. ‘‘ I’d like to meet your wife—get her story too.”

  ‘‘What d’you advise me to do?’’

  ‘‘There’s only one thing to do. That’s go straight to the police and tell them everything you’ve told me.”

  ‘‘I was afraid you might say that.”

  He said: ‘‘There’s no need to register disgust. I’m the one who should be doing that. When you take up market gardening and find the bulbs interfering with your sex life I hope you’ll let some other horticulturist into your confidence at an earlier stage.”

  ‘‘I’m sorry, Henry. Really I am. But as for the police—perhaps it’s some sort of left-over from my youth—but I just can’t see myself going to them and spilling all this.”

  He began to walk about the room. ‘‘You see, man, you bring this to me, but it’s far out of my reach already. These two very different possibilities, for instance. In either case it’s a matter for the police to investigate. Whether you stay in or out of the insurance world is small beer compared to the other things at issue. If Tracey Moreton is alive——’’

  I said: ‘‘ Oh, for God’s sake …”

  ‘‘Well, that’s what was in your mind, wasnt it?’’

  After a minute I said: ‘‘Yes.… I don’t know. I suppose so.”

  ‘‘If he’s alive, it’s very much a police matter, and only they can handle it. If he’s not, it’s still a police matter because of the other suspicion that exists—though I don’t know how seriously they hold it.”

  ‘‘I wonder what evidence the police have got.”

  ‘‘Against you? Very little, I should say, or they would have acted differently.”

  ‘‘So you suggest I should go and supply it.”

  ‘‘Not much harm ever came of telling the truth.”

  ‘‘Can you pick me a nice big sentimental sergeant?’’

  Dane frowned. ‘‘Oh, I know it won’t be pleasant. But you’ve put over the story to me. And although you’re a friend of mine, I’m not easy game.”

  I did a bit of room-pacing for a change. He poured himself a drink and put a perfunctory splash of soda in it.

  I said: ‘‘No. I’m too much in the dark yet. You see I’m not only risking my own skin; there’s Sarah to consider. It’s possible that some sort of a charge of fraud or conspiracy could be pinned on her. Heaven knows what might not be pinned on her yet. That’s what scares me stiff.”

  ‘‘And d’you think you’re making her any safer by sitting on this thing until it blows up?’’

  ‘‘No. That’s why I came to you.”

  ‘‘For advice? But you don’t like my advice.”
>
  ‘‘I don’t like it. I might take it.”

  He said: ‘‘Have another drink before you go.”

  ‘‘No, thanks.”

  ‘‘Do the Abercrombies know anything of this?’’

  ‘‘Nothing except the rumour.”

  ‘‘Which everyone within a half mile radius of Leadenhall Street has heard.”

  ‘‘Apparently.”

  ‘‘I think you owe something to them.”

  ‘‘I’m very conscious of that.”

  We talked for a bit. I still didn’t know quite what his feelings were. I think all the time his brain was working over what he’d been told.

  After a long time he said: ‘‘ When can I meet your wife?’’

  ‘‘Almost any time. Make a date and I’ll fix it.”

  ‘‘No, give me your phone number. I’m not sure how things will work out for me this week. Gwyneth said she’d be back on Thursday, but when there’s golf one never knows.”

  When I left he stood at the door watching me till I got in my car and started the engine. Then as I moved off he turned and went in.

  I felt disappointed, but I couldn’t exactly have said why. Perhaps it was that he’d not made an offer of personal help. Nor had he given me any crumb of comfort. I could have gone to the police without his advice.

  Perhaps I should have been relieved merely that he accepted the story in its entirety and not quibbled over the details. But when you feed something to a lion you expect it to roar.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Trixie didn’t turn up. I could see it was worrying Sarah a lot more than she would own, and it wasn’t merely the loss of the dog. She reported it to the police, and for the time being we had to let it rest there.

  I didn’t see Mr. Abercrombie on the Tuesday. I saw Michael two or three times but he didn’t mention anything. Unlike his father, he was a bit distant, didn’t meet my eyes more than he could help, kept his shoulders hunched and his brows vee’d in a perpetual frown.

  On the Wednesday I got a brief report through on Fisher, but it told me nothing about his finances that I couldn’t have guessed myself, and it certainly gave me no clue as to where he might be found.

  Just before lunch the Old Man came in to see me. He said: ‘‘Oh, Oliver.… No, sit down, sit down. This will do me very well. I was just going out.…” He sat and crossed his long thin legs and stared over my head at the map on the wall.

  ‘‘Have a cigarette,’’ I said. ‘‘ You remember we smoke the same brand.”

  He smiled as he took one, but I thought he looked old and tired. He said: ‘‘ Well, I have some news for you. I saw McDonald yesterday and again this morning. He’s agreed to withdraw the complaint he made to the council of the F.L.A.A.”

  ‘‘Oh,’’ I said in surprise. ‘‘Well, I’m very glad. You—must have a lot of influence with him.”

  ‘‘No.… I made him see that there is no really appropriate body.

  … I—put it to him that there was only one way of settling the matter, and that is as informally as possible.”

  ‘‘How?’’

  ‘‘He’s agreed that there should be a meeting between you and him as soon as we can conveniently arrange it—to discuss outstanding differences.”

  I rubbed my chin. ‘‘ Don’t think I’m not very grateful; but it seems to me that the outstanding difference between us is that he thinks me a liar and a swindler and I resent it. How is that going to be bridged?’’

  ‘‘Well, it won’t be except at a meeting will it? Obviously, of course, not at a meeting between just the two of you. But I thought if I were there, and McDonald’s boss, Rawson, as well, we might be able to see the thing through in a friendly way.”

  ‘‘I certainly can’t say no to that. When is it to be and where?’’

  ‘‘My idea in the first place was over a meal, but after talking with McDonald I do feel that perhaps the implications of the quarrel are too serious for that. It’s better that the thing should be thoroughly well aired.” The Old Man uncrossed his legs and hesitated. ‘‘So we decided, provisionally, on Saturday morning. That’s if it’s agreeable to you. Mr. Reckitt has suggested that we meet in his office, which can be looked on, as it were, as neutral ground.”

  I began to see that there were strings to this arrangement. ‘‘Reckitt knows about it, then?’’

  ‘‘Yes. I was forced to discuss it with him. We thought it a good idea to meet when there will be nobody else about and it will give rise to no further rumours——’’

  ‘‘Will he be there?’’

  ‘‘He may be. Though he may not consider it of sufficient importance to be worth his coming up from the country.” I didn’t believe that. Mr. Abercrombie studied my expression. ‘‘There is one other thing. In view of the fact that McDonald has already made his complaint to the F.L.A.A., I felt it my duty to invite a member of the council to come along. It’ll be all quite informal, of course, but it won’t be altogether a drawback to have somebody absolutely impartial on the scene and unknown to either of you.”

  ‘‘And have they accepted?’’

  ‘‘Yes. There’s a Mr. Spenser, from Birmingham, happens to be in town this week. He’s a past president of the Association and a very reasonable man. I think you’ll like him, and I think it will be for the best that way. It’s to everybody’s benefit that this unfortunate affair should be hushed up—but it would be to nobody’s benefit to give the impression that we had anything to conceal.”

  About an hour later Dane rang me up. ‘‘I’ve seen your wife,’’ he said, without preliminary.

  ‘‘Oh? When?’’

  ‘‘I’d half an hour free so rang her, and she came round to my office. We had a long talk and she’s just gone.”

  ‘‘Satisfied?’’

  ‘‘Quite reasonably.”

  I said: ‘‘ I suppose you wanted her on her own.”

  ‘‘Well, naturally. I think we should meet again now, you and I. Are you free for lunch to-morrow?’’

  ‘‘Free enough. I haven’t taken your advice.”

  ‘‘No, she said not. Well, we can discuss that. The Red Boar at one?’’

  ‘‘Thanks.”

  That night I was late, and Sarah had a meal ready. I thought that already in this short time the flat was showing signs of her occupancy. It wasn’t just the pair of long black gloves on the bookcase, nor the solitary carnation surviving from those I’d bought her the day we got back to England, cut down and down till practically only its head stuck out of the wineglass on the table. It was something much more subtle, an air of personality and possession that a gracious woman can give to a place just by being in it.

  Of course the smart boys will say that was sentimental and commonplace; but I hadn’t ever had it before. I’d not known what it was like to be welcomed before, so it wasn’t common-place for me.

  She was holding my face in her hands, pushing it far enough away to see the expression. ‘‘What is it, Oliver? Something more?’’

  ‘‘No …” I smiled at her. ‘‘Just a re-cap. Let’s eat.”

  There was no report of Trixie, and, although Sarah had been out again to-day, she’d found nothing to help us in our search for Clive.

  Over the meal we dropped it and talked about the things it would have been natural to talk about if all had been well. But it didn’t really work.

  At last I said: ‘‘So you went to see Henry Dane.”

  She was sitting on a stool before the fire, and she leaned forward and pushed a bit of coal further back where it would burn.

  ‘‘Who told you?’’

  ‘‘He did. He phoned when you left.”

  ‘‘What did he say?’’

  ‘‘Nothing much. I’m lunching with him to-morrow.”

  ‘‘Oh.…”

  I waited. ‘‘What did you think of him?’’

  She straightened her back and curled her hands round the edge of the stool.

  ‘‘He seems all right.”

/>   ‘‘Did he ask you for your side of the story?’’

  ‘‘Oh, yes.”

  ‘‘And what didn’t you like about him?’’

  She looked up briefly and smiled.

  ‘‘Oh, I think he could be very nice. But we nearly came to blows.”

  I sat up. ‘‘Why?’’

  ‘‘Well, darling, if I ever have to stand trial for murder I shan’t expect a much fiercer cross-examination than I got this afternoon.”

  ‘‘But what did he say? What did he ask you about?’’

  ‘‘Oh, he was polite enough in his own way. It seemed quite funny afterwards—this business of ‘where were you on the night of the fourteenth?’ I never really quite believed they did it that way.”

  I got up. I felt dumbfounded and furious. ‘‘Tell me what he said.”

  ‘‘Must I? It was the obvious sort of thing. When had I first met you? What were the state of my relations with Tracey at the time? Why did the first fire not come off and when had Tracey first told me of his intention to burn Lowis Manor? When did I tell you about it? When did the idea of double-crossing Tracey first occur to us? Did——’’

  ‘‘Good God,’’ I said.

  ‘‘How often had we met in London unknown to Tracey? How much was Tracey’s life insured for? Why had I taken the trouble to create an obvious alibi in Yorkshire if I hadn’t known Tracey’s intentions and also known yours? Did I seriously expect him to believe that we’d not corresponded for four months after the fire? Why did we suddenly decide to get married, and what was the compulsion? How often had I put you off coming to see him? On and on and on, till I could hardly think straight.”

  For a bit there seemed to be nothing I could say. I made a movement towards her, but she got up and turned away.

  ‘‘I came home feeling pretty limp. But afterwards, when I thought it over, I was glad it had happened.”

  ‘‘Glad?’’