Spider's Web - Agatha Christie [59]
Clarissa took Henry’s hat and coat to the hall but returned immediately and stood behind him.
‘Yes–speaking,’ Henry announced. ‘What?–Ten minutes later?–Shall I?–Yes–Yes, yes–No–No, no–You have?–I see–Yes–Right.’
He replaced the receiver, shouted ‘Clarissa!’, and then turned to find that she was right behind him. ‘Oh! There you are. Apparently another plane came in just ten minutes after the first, and Kalendorff was on it.’
‘Mr Jones, you mean,’ Clarissa reminded him.
‘Quite right, darling. One can’t be too careful,’ he acknowledged. ‘Yes, it seems that the first plane was a kind of security precaution. Really, one can’t fathom how these people’s minds work. Well, anyway, they’re sending–er–Mr Jones over here now with an escort. He’ll be here in about a quarter of an hour. Now then, is everything all right? Everything in order?’ He looked at the bridge table. ‘Do get rid of those cards, will you, darling?’
Clarissa hurriedly collected the cards and markers and put them out of sight, while Henry went to the stool and picked up the sandwich plate and mousse dish with an air of great surprise. ‘What’s on earth’s this?’ he wanted to know.
Rushing over to him, Clarissa seized the plate and dish. ‘Pippa was eating it,’ she explained. ‘I’ll take it away. And I’d better go and make some more ham sandwiches.’
‘Not yet–these chairs are all over the place.’ Henry’s tone was slightly reproachful. ‘I thought you were going to have everything ready, Clarissa.’
He began to fold the legs of the bridge table. ‘What have you been doing all the evening?’ he asked her as he carried the bridge table off to the library.
Clarissa was now busy pushing chairs around. ‘Oh, Henry,’ she exclaimed, ‘it’s been the most terribly exciting evening. You see, I came in here with some sandwiches soon after you left, and the first thing that happened was I fell over a body. There.’ She pointed. ‘Behind the sofa.’
‘Yes, yes, darling,’ Henry muttered absent-mindedly, as he helped her push the easy chair into its usual position. ‘Your stories are always enchanting, but really there isn’t time now.’
‘But, Henry, it’s true,’ she insisted. ‘And that’s only the beginning. The police came, and it was just one thing after another.’ She was beginning to babble. ‘There was a narcotic ring, and Miss Peake isn’t Miss Peake, she’s really Mrs Brown, and Jeremy turned out to be the murderer and he was trying to steal a stamp worth fourteen thousand pounds.’
‘Hmm! Must have been a second Swedish yellow,’ Henry commented. His tone was indulgent, but he was not really listening.
‘I believe that’s just what it was!’ Clarissa exclaimed delightedly.
‘Really, the things you imagine, Clarissa,’ said Henry affectionately. He moved the small table, set it between the armchair and the easy chair, and flicked the crumbs off it with his handkerchief.
‘But, darling, I didn’t imagine it,’ Clarissa went on. ‘I couldn’t have imagined half as much.’
Henry put his briefcase behind a cushion on the sofa, plumped up another cushion, then made his way with a third cushion to the easy chair. Meanwhile, Clarissa continued her attempts to engage his attention. ‘How extraordinary it is,’ she observed. ‘All my life nothing has really happened to me, and tonight I’ve had the lot. Murder, police, drug addicts, invisible ink, secret writing, almost arrested for manslaughter, and very nearly murdered.’ She paused and looked at Henry. ‘You know, darling, in a way it’s almost too much all in one evening.’
‘Do go and make that coffee, darling,’ Henry replied. ‘You can tell me all your lovely rigmarole tomorrow.’
Clarissa looked exasperated. ‘But don’t you realize, Henry,’ she asked him, ‘that I was nearly murdered this evening?’
Henry looked at his watch. ‘Either Sir John or Mr Jones might arrive at any minute,’ he said anxiously.
‘What I’ve been through this evening,’ Clarissa continued. ‘Oh dear, it reminds me of Sir Walter Scott.’
‘What does?’ Henry asked vaguely as he looked around the room to make sure that everything was now in its proper place.
‘My aunt