Problem at Pollensa Bay - Agatha Christie [65]
Theo began to understand. She thought to herself: ‘Why am I not surprised? Did I always know, deep down, that he wasn’t straight?’
Richard went on talking. He explained himself at unnecessary lengths. Theo was content for him to cloak the actual details of the affair in this mantle of verbosity. The matter concerned a large tract of South African property. Exactly what Richard had done, she was not concerned to know. Morally, he assured her, everything was fair and above board; legally–well, there it was; no getting away from the fact, he had rendered himself liable to criminal prosecution.
He kept shooting quick glances at his wife as he talked. He was nervous and uncomfortable. And still he excused himself and tried to explain away that which a child might have seen in its naked truth. Then finally in a burst of justification, he broke down. Perhaps Theo’s eyes, momentarily scornful, had something to do with it. He sank down in a chair by the fireplace, his head in his hands.
‘There it is, Theo,’ he said brokenly, ‘What are you going to do about it?’
She came over to him with scarcely a moment’s pause and, kneeling down by the chair, put her face against his.
‘What can be done, Richard? What can we do?’
He caught her to him.
‘You mean it? You’ll stick to me?’
‘Of course. My dear, of course.’
He said, moved to sincerity in spite of himself: ‘I’m a thief, Theo. That’s what it means, shorn of fine language–just a thief.’
‘Then I’m a thief ’s wife, Richard. We’ll sink or swim together.’
They were silent for a little while. Presently Richard recovered something of his jaunty manner.
‘You know, Theo, I’ve got a plan, but we’ll talk of that later. It’s just on dinnertime. We must go and change. Put on that creamy thingummybob of yours, you know–the Caillot model.’
Theo raised her eyebrows quizzically.
‘For an evening at home?’
‘Yes, yes, I know. But I like it. Put it on, there’s a good girl. It cheers me up to see you looking your best.’
Theo came down to dinner in the Caillot. It was a creation in creamy brocade, with a faint pattern of gold running through it and an undernote of pale pink to give warmth to the cream. It was cut daringly low in the back, and nothing could have been better designed to show off the dazzling whiteness of Theo’s neck and shoulders. She was truly now a magnolia flower.
Richard’s eye rested upon her in warm approval. ‘Good girl. You know, you look simply stunning in that dress.’
They went in to dinner. Throughout the evening Richard was nervous and unlike himself, joking and laughing about nothing at all, as if in a vain attempt to shake off his cares. Several times Theo tried to lead him back to the subject they had been discussing before, but he edged away from it.
Then suddenly, as she rose to go to bed, he came to the point.
‘No, don’t go yet. I’ve got something to say. You know, about this miserable business.’
She sat down again.
He began talking rapidly. With a bit of luck, the whole thing could be hushed up. He had covered his tracks fairly well. So long as certain papers didn’t get into the receiver’s hands–
He stopped significantly.
‘Papers?’ asked Theo perplexedly. ‘You mean you will destroy them?’
Richard made a grimace.
‘I’d destroy them fast enough if I could get hold of them. That’s the devil of it all!’
‘Who has them, then?’
‘A man we both know–Vincent Easton.’
A very faint exclamation escaped Theo. She forced it back, but Richard had noticed it.
‘I’ve suspected he knew something of the business all along. That’s why I’ve asked him here a good bit. You may remember that I asked you to be nice to him?’
‘I remember,’ said Theo.
‘Somehow I never seem to have got on really friendly terms with him. Don’t know why. But he likes you. I should say he likes you a good deal.’
Theo said in a very clear voice: ‘He does.