The Secret Of Chimneys Part 34

He disappeared into the house. In a minute or two he returned with a paper package which he cast into Jimmy's arms.

'Go round to the garage and help yourself to a likely looking car. Beat it to London and deliver that parcel at 17 Everdean Square. That's Mr Balderson's private address. In exchange he'll hand you a thousand pounds.'

'What? It's not the memoirs? I understood that they'd been burnt.'

'What do you take me for?' demanded Anthony. 'You don't think I'd fall for a story like that, do you? I rang up the publishers at once, found out that the other was a fake call, and arranged accordingly. I made up a dummy package as I'd been directed to do. But I put the real package in the manager's safe and handed over the dummy. The memoirs have never been out of my possession.'

'Bully for you, my son,' said Jimmy.

'Oh, Anthony,' cried Virginia. 'You're not going to let them be published?'

'I can't help myself. I can't let a pal like Jimmy down. But you needn't worry. I've had time to wade through them, and I see now why people always hint that bigwigs don't write their own reminiscences but hire someone to do it for them. As a writer, Stylpt.i.tch is an insufferable bore. He proses on about statecraft, and doesn't go in for any racy and indiscreet anecdotes. His ruling pa.s.sion of secrecy held strong to the end. There's not a word in the memoirs from beginning to end to flutter the susceptibilities of the most difficult politician. I rang up Balderson today, and arranged with him that I'd deliver the ma.n.u.script tonight before midnight. But Jimmy can do his own dirty work now that he's here.'

'I'm off,' said Jimmy. 'I like the idea of that thousand pounds - especially when I'd made up my mind it was down and out.'

'Half a second,' said Anthony. 'I've got a confession to make to you, Virginia. Something that everyone else knows, but that I haven't yet told you.'

'I don't mind how many strange women you've loved so long as you don't tell me about them.'

'Women!' said Anthony, with a virtuous air. 'Women indeed! You ask James here what kind of women I was going about with last time he saw me.'

'Frumps,' said Jimmy solemnly. 'Utter frumps. Not one a day under forty-five -'

'Thank you, Jimmy,' said Anthony, 'you're a true friend. No, it's much worse than that. I've deceived you as to my real name.'

'Is it very dreadful?' said Virginia with interest. 'It isn't something silly like Pobbles, is it? Fancy being called Mrs Pobbles.'

'You re always thinking the worst of me.'

'I admit that I did once think you were King Victor, but only for about a minute and a half.'

'By the way, Jimmy, I've got a job for you - gold prospecting in the rocky fastnesses of Herzoslovakia.'

'Is there gold there?' asked Jimmy eagerly.

Sure to be,' said Anthony. 'It's a wonderful country.'

'So you're taking my advice and going there?' said Anthony.

'Your advice was worth more than you knew. Now for the confession. I wasn't changed a changeling or anything romantic like that, but nevertheless I am really Prince Nicholas Obolovitch of Herzoslovakia.'

'Oh, Anthony,' cried Virginia. 'How perfectly screaming! And I have married you! What are we going to do about it?'

'We'll go to Herzoslovakia and pretend to be king and queen. Jimmy McGrath once said that the average life of a king or queen out there is under four years. I hope you don't mind?'

'Mind?' cried Virginia. 'I shall love it!'

'Isn't she great?' murmured Jimmy.

Then, discreetly, he faded into the night. A few minutes later the sound of a car was heard.

'Nothing like letting a man do his own dirty work,' said Anthony, with satisfaction. 'Besides, I didn't know how else to get rid of him. Since we were married I've not had one minute alone with you.'

'We'll have a lot of fun,' said Virginia. 'Teaching the brigands not to be brigands, and the a.s.sa.s.sins not to a.s.sa.s.sinate, and generally improving the moral tone of the country.'

'I like to hear these pure ideals,' said Anthony. 'It makes me feel my sacrifice has not been in vain.'

'Rot,' said Virginia calmly, 'you'll enjoy being a king. It's in your blood, you know. You were brought up to the trade of royalty, and you've got a natural apt.i.tude for it, just like plumbers have a natural bent for plumbing.'

'I never think they have,' said Anthony. 'But, d.a.m.n it all, don't let's waste time talking about plumbers. Do you know that at this very minute I'm supposed to be deep in conference with Isaacstein and old Lollipop? They want to talk about oil. Oil, my G.o.d! They can just await my kingly pleasure. Virginia, do you remember my telling you once that I'd have a d.a.m.ned good try to make you care for me?'

'I remember,' said Virginia softly. 'But Superintendent Battle was looking out of the window.'

'Well, he isn't now,' said Anthony.

He caught her suddenly to him, kissing her eyelids, her lips, the green gold of her hair...

'I do love you so, Virginia,' he whispered. 'I do love you so. Do you love me?'

He looked down at her - sure of the answer.

Her head rested against his shoulder, and very low, in a sweet shaken voice, she answered: 'Not a bit!'

'You little devil,' cried Anthony, kissing her again. 'Now I low for certain that I shall love you until I die...'

Chapter 31.

SUNDRY DETAILS.

Scene - Chimneys, 11 am Thursday morning. Johnson, the police constable, with his coat off, digging.

Something in the nature of a funeral feeling seems to be in the air. The friends and relations stand round the grave that Johnson is digging.

George Lomax has the air of the princ.i.p.al beneficiary under the will of the deceased. Superintendent Battle, with his immovable face, seems pleased that the funeral arrangements have gone so nicely. As the undertaker, it reflects credit upon him. Lord Caterham has that solemn and shocked look which Englishmen a.s.sume when a religious ceremony is in progress. Mr Fish does not fit into the picture so well. He is not sufficiently grave.

Johnson bends to his task. Suddenly he straightens up. A little stir of excitement pa.s.ses round.

'That'll do, sonny,' said Mr Fish. 'We shall do nicely now.'

One perceives at once that he is really the family physician.

Johnson retires. Mr Fish with due solemnity, stoops over the excavation. The surgeon is about to operate.

He brings out a small canvas package. With much ceremony he hands it to Superintendent Battle. The latter, in his turn, hands it to George Lomax. The etiquette of the situation has now been carefully complied with.

George Lomax unwraps the package, slits up the oilsilk inside it, burrows into further wrapping. For a moment he holds something on the palm of his hand - then quickly shrouds it once more in cottonwool.

He clears his throat.

'At this auspicious minute -' he begins, with the clear delivery of the practised speaker.

Lord Caterham beats a precipitate retreat. On the terrace he finds his daughter.

'Bundle, is that car of yours in order?'

'Yes. Why?'

'Then take me up to town in it immediately. I'm going abroad at once - today.'

'But, Father -'

'Don't argue with me, Bundle. George Lomax told me when he arrived this morning that he was anxious to have a few words with me privately on a matter of the utmost delicacy. He added that the King of Timbuctoo was arriving in London shortly. I won't go through it again, Bundle, do you hear? Not for fifty George Lomaxes! If Chimneys is so valuable to the nation, let the nation buy it. Otherwise I shall sell it to a syndicate and they can turn it into an hotel.'

'Where is Codders now?' Bundle is rising to the situation.

'At the present minute,' replied Lord Caterham, looking at his watch, 'he is good for at least fifteen minutes about the Empire.'

Another picture.

Mr Bill Eversleigh, not invited to be present at the graveside ceremony, at the telephone.

'No, really, I mean it... I say, don't be huffy... Well, you will have supper tonight, anyway?... No, I haven't. I've been kept to it with my nose at the grindstone. You've no idea what Codders is like... I say, Dolly, you know jolly well what I think about you... You know I've never cared for anyone but you... Yes, I'll come to the show first. How does the old wheeze go? "And the little girl tries, hooks and eyes"...' Unearthly sounds. Mr Eversleigh trying to hum the refrain in question.

And now George's peroration draws to a close. '... the lasting peace and prosperity of the British Empire!'

'I guess,' said Mr Hiram Fish sotto voce to himself and the world at large, 'that this has been a great little old week.'

The Agatha Christie Collection

Christie Crime Cla.s.sics

The Man in the Brown Suit

The Secret of Chimneys

The Seven Dials Mystery

The Mysterious Mr Quin

The Sittaford Mystery

The Hound of Death

The Listerdale Mystery

Why Didn't They Ask Evans?

Parker Pyne Investigates

Murder Is Easy

And Then There Were None

Towards Zero

Death Comes as the End