The Seven Dials Mystery - Agatha Christie [56]
‘Climbing down the ivy, you said? My God, Lomax, you don’t think they’ve got away with it?’
He rushed from the room. For some curious reason nobody spoke during his absence. In a few minutes Sir Stanley returned. His round, chubby face was white as death.
‘My God, Battle,’ he said, ‘they’ve got it. O’Rourke’s fast asleep–drugged, I think. I can’t wake him. And the papers have vanished.’
Chapter 21
The Recovery of the Formula
‘Der liebe Gott!’ said Herr Eberhard in a whisper.
His face had gone chalky white.
George turned a face of dignified reproach on Battle.
‘Is this true, Battle? I left all arrangements in your hands.’
The rock-like quality of the Superintendent showed out well. Not a muscle of his face moved.
‘The best of us are defeated sometimes, sir,’ he said quietly.
‘Then you mean–you really mean–that the document is gone?’
But to everyone’s surprise Superintendent Battle shook his head.
‘No, no, Mr Lomax, it’s not so bad as you think. Everything’s all right. But you can’t lay the credit for it at my door. You’ve got to thank this young lady.’
He indicated Loraine, who stared at him in surprise. Battle stepped across to her and gently took the brown paper parcel which she was still clutching mechanically.
‘I think, Mr Lomax,’ he said, ‘that you will find what you want here.’
Sir Stanley Digby, quicker in action than George, snatched at the package and tore it open, investigating its contents eagerly. A sigh of relief escaped him and he mopped his brow. Herr Eberhard fell upon the child of his brain and clasped it to his heart, whilst a torrent of German burst from him.
Sir Stanley turned to Loraine, shaking her warmly by the hand.
‘My dear young lady,’ he said, ‘we are infinitely obliged to you, I am sure.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ said George. ‘Though I–er–’
He paused in some perplexity, staring at a young lady who was a total stranger to him. Loraine looked appealingly at Jimmy, who came to the rescue.
‘We–this is Miss Wade.’ said Jimmy. ‘Gerald Wade’s sister.’
‘Indeed,’ said George, shaking her warmly by the hand. ‘My dear Miss Wade, I must express my deep gratitude to you for what you have done. I must confess that I do not quite see–’
He paused delicately and four of the persons present felt that explanations were going to be fraught with much difficulty. Superintendent Battle came to the rescue.
‘Perhaps we’d better not go into that just now, sir,’ he suggested tactfully.
The efficient Mr Bateman created a further diversion.
‘Wouldn’t it be wise for someone to see to O’Rourke? Don’t you think, sir, that a doctor had better be sent for?’
‘Of course,’ said George. ‘Of course. Most remiss of us not to have thought of it before.’ He looked towards Bill. ‘Get Dr Cartwright on the telephone. Ask him to come. Just hint, if you can, that–er–discretion should be observed.’
Bill went off on his errand.
‘I will come up with you, Digby,’ said George. ‘Something, possibly, could be done–measures should, perhaps, be taken–whilst awaiting the arrival of the doctor.’
He looked rather helplessly at Rupert Bateman. Efficiency always makes itself felt. It was Pongo who was really in charge of the situation.
‘Shall I come up with you, sir?’
George accepted the offer with relief. Here, he felt, was someone on whom he could lean. He experienced that sense of complete trust in Mr Bateman’s efficiency which came to all those who encountered that excellent young man.
The three men left the room together. Lady Coote, murmuring in deep rich tones: ‘The poor young fellow. Perhaps I could do something–’ hurried after them.
‘That’s a very motherly woman,’ observed the Superintendent thoughtfully. ‘A very motherly woman. I wonder–’
Three pairs of eyes looked at him inquiringly.
‘I was wondering,’ said Superintendent Battle slowly, ‘where Sir Oswald Coote may be.’
‘Oh!’ gasped Loraine. ‘Do you think he’s been murdered?’
Battle shook his head at her reproachfully.
‘No need for anything so melodramatic,’ he said. ‘No–I rather think–’
He paused, his head on one side, listening