The Deeds of the Disturber - Elizabeth Peters [123]
‘I don’t want . . .’ Violet began.
Percy patted her on her fat curls. ‘I will play spillikins with you, Violet. If you will excuse us, Aunt Amelia?’
‘Quite the little gentleman,’ said Kevin, as the two went off hand in hand. ‘And how are you, Master Ramses? No ill effects after last night, I hope?’
Fearing that Ramses would answer in detail – scratch by scratch and bruise by bruise – I answered for him. ‘None. Emerson’s wound was not so serious as I feared. He should be here . . . Well, Gargery, where is the professor?’
Gargery, who, the Reader may have noted, was not inclined to suppress his feelings or his opinions, made no attempt to conceal his agitation. ‘He’s gone off, Mrs Emerson. With that Indian.’
‘What?’ I half-rose from my chair. ‘With no explanation, no word –’
‘All he said, madam, was that he was going out and would be back later, and not to worry. But, madam, I can’t help worrying, not with all those heathens seemingly after the professor and you, and this fellow was such a haughty, high-handed chap . . .’
‘Did you see where they went?’ I inquired.
‘He had a carriage waiting, madam. A nice turnout it was, with as fine a pair of matched greys as I’ve ever seen.’
‘Was there nothing distinctive about the carriage? No armorial bearings or crest?’
‘No, madam. Just a plain black brougham – very handsome, and polished to a turn, madam. They drove off in the direction of Pall Mall –’
‘Which means nothing,’ I muttered. Pall Mall leads to Hyde Park and Park Lane . . . and to a million other places.
‘No, madam. They were off so fast I didn’t have time to send anyone after them – and when I made so bold as to say to the professor that perhaps he ought to take Bob along, or one of the others, he gave a queer kind of laugh and said no one else had been included in the invitation, madam. He was looking . . . queer, madam.’
‘Afraid, Gargery?’
‘Madam!’
‘Of course not. Angry?’
‘Well . . .’
‘You said he laughed.’
‘But in a queer way, madam.’
‘Oh, do go away, Gargery,’ I exclaimed. ‘If you can’t do better than that . . . Now, now, don’t be hurt, I know you did your best and I am sure there is no need for concern.’
‘Thank you, madam,’ said Gargery mournfully.
After he had gone I looked at Ramses. ‘Do you know anything about this, Ramses?’
‘No, Mama. Which is something of a blow to my pride, since I try always to be au courant when the safety of yourself or Papa is involved. One might of course speculate –’
‘Do not speculate, Ramses.’
‘What is all this about, Mrs E.?’ Kevin asked curiously.
I had almost forgotten his presence until that moment. I ought not to have been so indiscreet; but I beg the Reader to say honestly whether she would not have done the same.
‘Nothing, I suppose,’ I replied. ‘I ought to apologize, Mr O’Connell, for this interruption prevented you from telling me why you came to see me.’
Kevin cleared his throat, crossed his legs, uncrossed them, and cleared his throat again. ‘I happened to be passing by –’
‘Three times in one day? Dear me, Kevin, I have never seen you so ill at ease, not even when you broke into my house in Kent and knocked my butler down. What on earth can it be this time?’
‘It is probably nothing,’ Kevin began, crossing his legs.
‘Stop fidgeting and speak out. I will be the judge of whether it is important.’
‘Well . . . I wondered whether you had heard anything from Miss Minton.’
‘She is still at her grandmama’s, I believe,’ I replied, wondering what had prompted the question. Some professional matter, I assumed.
Kevin uncrossed his knees and struck one of them with his clenched fist. ‘No, Mrs E., she is not. No one has seen her or heard from her for almost a week.’
‘Impossible. How do you know she isn’t there?’
‘A friend – a person – a friend – wrote to her. A letter came back saying she was in London, and giving the address you know. But her landlady says she has not been there since Friday.’
The door opened. ‘Mr Wilson to see you, madam,’ Gargery announced.
‘What the