Spider's Web - Agatha Christie [18]
‘Oh, well,’ Hugo growled resignedly, as he picked up a menu and began to devote his attention to the serious business of choosing what they would eat later.
Meanwhile, back in the Hailsham-Browns’ drawing-room, only minutes after Henry had gone off to have his shower, Oliver Costello entered the empty room stealthily through the French windows, leaving the curtains open so that moonlight streamed in. He shone a torch carefully around the room, then went to the desk and switched on the lamp that was on it. After lifting the flap of the secret drawer, he suddenly switched off the lamp and stood motionless for a moment as though he had heard something. Apparently reassured, he switched the desk lamp on again, and opened the secret drawer.
Behind Costello, the panel beside the bookshelf slowly and quietly opened. He shut the secret drawer in the desk, switched the lamp off again, and then turned sharply as he was struck a fierce blow on the head by someone standing at the recess. Costello collapsed immediately, falling behind the sofa, and the panel closed again, this time more quickly.
The room remained in darkness for a moment, until Henry Hailsham-Brown entered from the hall, switched on the wall-brackets, and shouted ‘Clarissa!’ Putting his spectacles on, he filled his cigarette-case from the box on a table near the sofa as Clarissa came in, calling, ‘Here I am, darling. Do you want a sandwich before you go?’
‘No, I think I’d better start,’ Henry replied, patting his jacket nervously.
‘But you’ll be hours too early,’ Clarissa told him. ‘It can’t take you more than twenty minutes to drive there.’
Henry shook his head. ‘One never knows,’ he declared. ‘I might have a puncture, or something might go wrong with the car.’
‘Don’t fuss, darling,’ Clarissa admonished him, straightening his tie as she spoke. ‘It’s all going to go very smoothly.’
‘Now, what about Pippa?’ Henry asked, anxiously. ‘You’re sure she won’t come down or barge in while Sir John and Kalen–I mean, Mr Jones, are talking privately?’
‘No, there’s no danger of that,’ Clarissa assured him. ‘I’ll go up to her room and we’ll have a feast together. We’ll toast tomorrow’s breakfast sausages and share the chocolate mousse between us.’
Henry smiled affectionately at his wife. ‘You’re very good to Pippa, my dear,’ he told her. ‘It’s one of the things I’m most grateful to you for.’ He paused, embarrassed, then went on. ‘I can never express myself very well–I–you know–so much misery–and now, everything’s so different. You–’ Taking Clarissa in his arms, he kissed her.
For some moments they remained locked in a loving embrace. Then Clarissa gently broke away, but continued to hold his hands. ‘You’ve made me very happy, Henry,’ she told him. ‘And Pippa is going to be fine. She’s a lovely child.’
Henry smiled affectionately at her. ‘Now, you go and meet your Mr Jones,’ she ordered him, pushing him towards the hall door. ‘Mr Jones,’ she repeated. ‘I still think that’s a ridiculous name to have chosen.’
Henry was about to leave the room when Clarissa asked him, ‘Are you going to come in by the front door? Shall I leave it unlatched?’
He paused in the doorway to consider. Then, ‘No,’ he said. ‘I think we’ll come in through the French windows.’
‘You’d better put on your