Bodies from the Library. Georgette Heyer
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He put the receiver back.
‘Sir Charles wants you to go along to his house now, Linckes—16, Arlington Street. Get along there as quickly as you can, will you? I want you to put every ounce of your brain into this. It’s a big chance for you, you know.’
Linckes rose, and drew a deep breath.
II
Half an hour later he stood in the library of No. 16, Arlington Street, taking in his surroundings with appreciative eyes. He was examining a fine old chest by the window when Winthrop came in.
Linckes turned. He beheld a tall, slim man of perhaps thirty-five years old, with an open, handsome face, in which sparkled a pair of dark eyes, singularly expressive, and fringed by long black lashes. Winthrop held Linckes’ card in his hand, and he came forward, smiling. The smile dispersed the slight sternness about his mouth, and left it boyish and charming. Very simply he told Linckes all that he knew, while the young detective listened intently, occasionally putting a question.
‘And that’s all,’ Winthrop ended ruefully. ‘’Tisn’t much to go on, is it?’
‘No; very little. You don’t suspect anyone yourself?’
‘I don’t. I admit it looked like the work of an outsider, but I just don’t see how it can be. Masters first suspected Ruthven, my secretary; but that’s impossible. I can account for all his movements, and I know that he didn’t go near Caryu’s place during the three days that the plans were there, for the simple reason that he was with me at Millbank.’
‘There might be an accomplice.’
Winthrop screwed up his nose, perplexed.
‘Well, of course there might be. But, considering that Ruthven himself doesn’t know the key to the safe, I don’t see how that helps. Besides, Caryu has a most elaborate alarm thing in his safe-room. Only he and I know the workings to it. Either of us could enter the room without disturbing it, provided we did not try to get in at the window, or any funny trick like that, but no one else could. Whoever did it must have watched the place for months; might even have been in the household. Probably was, because there were no signs of burglary. We had no idea anything had been tampered with until we had ample proof that Russia had learnt the secret of those new subs. I tell you, it’s absolutely incomprehensible!’
Linckes pulled out his cigarette-case, frowning. He started to tap a cigarette on it absent-mindedly.
‘The servants have been accounted for, I suppose?’
Winthrop’s white teeth gleamed in an infectious laugh.
‘Oh lor’, yes! They’re all being watched and interrogated, and Heaven knows what besides. We don’t think they have anything to do with it. It’s too big a thing.’
‘I may act as I think fit?’ Linckes asked.
‘Absolutely! Interview all the servants, or anyone else you like. I say, don’t smoke your own cigarette. Have one of mine.’
Linckes suddenly became aware of the cigarette in his hand.
‘I beg your pardon!’ he exclaimed. ‘I ought to have asked you if you minded smoking. Well, thanks very much!’ He took a cigarette from the box Winthrop held out to him, and inspected it. ‘’Fraid I don’t usually indulge in this brand. I smoke gaspers as a general rule.’
He lit the cigarette, smiling.
‘Do you? I only smoke these. Sometimes, but very rarely, a cigar.’
‘Of course, I really prefer a pipe to anything,’ Linckes remarked.
Winthrop shook his head.
‘Can’t rise to that. I think they’re ghastly things. Look here! Have I told you enough? I mean, ask me any question you like.’
‘I think I’ve got enough to keep me occupied for a few days, thanks. I’ll be getting along now, if you don’t mind.’ He rose and held out his hand.
Winthrop jumped up.
‘Right-ho! And try your damnedest, Won’t you? We’re trying to keep a brave front. But—well, it’s serious. Just as serious as it can be. And until the mystery is solved Caryu and the rest of us are in a pretty sultry position. And—and it happens to mean rather a lot, to me especially, to have the thing cleared up.’
‘You may be quite sure that I shall do my best,’ Linckes told him. He gripped Winthrop’s hand, and as he did so the door opened.
‘ Charlie, it really is too bad of you!’ chided an amused voice. ‘I suppose you’ve quite forgotten that you asked me to lunch with you at the Berkeley? Oh, I beg your pardon! I’d no idea you were engaged. Daddy, he’s deep in business.’
‘Well, you shouldn’t burst in on him in that unceremonious way,’ answered Caryu. He came leisurely into the room and cast a quick glance at Linckes. ‘Sorry to intrude like this, Charles. Autonia’s fault!’
‘How was I to know that he was engaged?’ demanded Miss Caryu aggrievedly. She sauntered forward, bowing to Linckes.
‘I’m not engaged, I’m sorry to say,’ retorted Winthrop. ‘I hadn’t forgotten, Tony, honestly. I was detained, but I was just coming. Caryu, may I introduce Mr Linckes?’
Linckes found himself the object of a keen scrutiny.
‘Very pleased to meet you!’ said Caryu, and shook hands. ‘You’re not Tom Linckes’ son, by any chance?’
‘Yes, I am, sir. Do you know him?’
‘Very well. We were at college together. Hope you’ll be able to help us in this business.’
Tony, who had just seated herself on the table, looked up.
‘Oh, are you the new detective, Mr Linckes?’ she asked interestedly.
‘Autonia!’
‘Well, all right, daddy. You can’t help my knowing. How do you do?’
She extended a small gloved hand to Linckes, who took it, and stammered something that seemed to him inane.
‘I hope you’ll solve the mystery,’ Tony said. ‘You don’t look frightfully Sherlock Holmes-y, you know!’
She smiled mischievously. It was then that Linckes’ heart changed hands.
Then he took his leave of them and went out, all thoughts obscured for the moment by the picture of Miss Autonia Caryu sitting on a table with her slim ankles crossed, and a friendly smile on her beautiful red lips.
III
Nearly three months slipped by, and found Linckes disgruntled. Caryu had been very kind to him. So, too, had Caryu’s daughter.
He was a little puzzled by Winthrop. He had been drawn to him from the very first, but he was at a loss to understand his moods. One day Sir Charles would be flippant and gay, the next irritable and restless; he was sometimes most inconsequent and absent-minded. Yet with all this nervous temperament he was undoubtedly clever, always charming, and an eminently responsible person. Once Linckes spoke tentatively to Tony about him, and the girl had laughed.
‘Oh, Charlie’s an extraordinary man!’ she had said. ‘A perfect darling, but quite mad! They think an awful lot of him at the War House, you know. Under that flippant manner of his there’s heaps and heaps of brain. Everybody loves him, but he’s a dreadful trial!’
‘A trial?’ had asked Linckes. ‘Why?’
‘Well, he’s so—so moody. And he will forget things. Sometimes he’ll say a thing to me and contradict it within an hour. When I tease him about it, he just laughs and says, “Oh, did I?