The Seven Dials Mystery - Agatha Christie [78]
‘There might be ways of explaining that,’ said Loraine. ‘The same line of argument you used about Mr O’Rourke. Suspicion had to be diverted from him and placed in another quarter.’
Bundle nodded eagerly.
‘It all fits in. Suspicion is to fall on Bauer and the Countess. Who on earth would ever dream of suspecting Sir Oswald Coote?’
‘I wonder if Battle does,’ said Jimmy slowly.
Some chord of memory vibrated in Bundle’s mind. Superintendent Battle plucking an ivy leaf off the millionaire’s coat.
Had Battle suspected all the time?
Chapter 29
Singular Behaviour of George Lomax
‘Mr Lomax is here, my lord.’
Lord Caterham started violently, for, absorbed in the intricacies of what not to do with the left wrist, he had not heard the butler approach over the soft turf. He looked at Tredwell more in sorrow than in anger.
‘I told you at breakfast, Tredwell, that I should be particularly engaged this morning.’
‘Yes, my lord, but–’
‘Go and tell Mr Lomax that you have made a mistake, that I am out in the village, that I am laid up with the gout, or, if all else fails, that I am dead.’
‘Mr Lomax, my lord, has already caught sight of your lordship when driving up the drive.’
Lord Caterham sighed deeply.
‘He would. Very well, Tredwell, I am coming.’
In a manner highly characteristic, Lord Caterham was always most genial when his feelings were in reality the reverse. He greeted George now with a heartiness quite unparalleled.
‘My dear fellow, my dear fellow. Delighted to see you. Absolutely delighted. Sit down. Have a drink. Well, well, this is splendid!’
And having pushed George into a large arm-chair, he sat down opposite him and blinked nervously.
‘I wanted to see you very particularly,’ said George.
‘Oh!’ said Lord Caterham faintly, and his heart sank, whilst his mind raced actively over all the dread possibilities that might lie behind that simple phrase.
‘Very particularly,’ said George with heavy emphasis.
Lord Caterham’s heart sank lower than ever. He felt that something was coming worse than anything he had yet thought of.
‘Yes?’ he said, with a courageous attempt at nonchalance.
‘Is Eileen at home?’
Lord Caterham felt reprieved, but slightly surprised.
‘Yes, yes,’ he said. ‘Bundle’s here. Got that friend of hers with her–the little Wade girl. Very nice girl–very nice girl. Going to be quite a good golfer one day. Nice easy swing–’
He was chatting garrulously on when George interrupted with ruthlessness:
‘I am glad that Eileen is at home. Perhaps I might have an interview with her presently?’
‘Certainly, my dear fellow, certainly.’ Lord Caterham still felt very surprised, but was still enjoying the sensation of reprieve. ‘If it doesn’t bore you.’
‘Nothing could bore me less,’ said George. ‘I think, Caterham, if I may say so, that you hardly appreciate the fact that Eileen is grown up. She is no longer a child. She is a woman, and, if I may say so, a very charming and talented woman. The man who succeeds in winning her love will be extremely lucky. I repeat it–extremely lucky.’
‘Oh, I daresay,’ said Lord Caterham. ‘But she’s very restless, you know. Never content to be in one place for more than two minutes together. However, I daresay young fellows don’t mind that nowadays.’
‘You mean that she is not content to stagnate. Eileen has brains, Caterham; she is ambitious. She interests herself in the questions of the day, and brings her fresh and vivid young intellect to bear upon them.’
Lord Caterham stared at him. It occurred to him that what was so often referred to as ‘the strain of modern life’ had begun to tell upon George. Certainly his description of Bundle seemed to Lord Caterham ludicrously unlike.
‘Are you sure you are feeling quite well?’ he asked anxiously.
George waved the inquiry aside impatiently.
‘Perhaps, Caterham, you begin to have some inkling of my purpose in visiting you this morning. I am not a man to undertake fresh responsibilities lightly. I have a proper sense, I hope, of what is due to the position I hold. I have given this matter my