Adèle And Co. Page 2

  We had, it seemed, done what we could. The authorities had been informed and would get to work. That we could ourselves do no more seemed painfully probable. What was as clear as paint was that until our heads stopped aching we could think to no purpose at all.

  We had been in Paris five days and had been proposing to stay for another fifteen. The visit was annual. Three years ago we had all met in this way, sharing the same suite of rooms in the same hotel and all returning to England about the middle of June. Paris can be very charming when summer is coming in, and our stay had proved so pleasant in every way that we had determined to make it an institution with which no other engagement should interfere. When I say ‘we’, I except Casca de Palk. Casca was of Paris, but we had known him for years and while we stayed in his city he was continually with us in all we did.

  Regular habits suit a thief down to the ground. I have no doubt that our ways had been studied for years, for the blow had been timed with a nicety which only a considerable patience could have brought forth. At no other time in the year were we all assembled together within a hotel. The Duke and Duchess of Padua came from Rome: Jonah from London: and the rest of us from the New Forest, where we live. Privacy, servants, safes – for once in the year we put off these protections without a thought. In a word, we stepped out of our ground. What was so very unfortunate was that we took our jewels with us. At no other time in the year did Daphne, Adèle and Jill wear so consistently the precious stones they possessed. For all that, we were not careless. On the morning after a night on which they had been displayed, the Velasquez pearls and other important gems went into the mighty safe on the mezzanine floor. But if we took ordinary care we were robbed by no ordinary thieves. And there was the rub.

  The Plazas we had met on the train six days before. That that is a damning confession I frankly admit, but it is always the obvious which one never perceives.

  When we entered the train at Calais, they were already sitting in seats which we had reserved. No one, I think, could have argued that this was their fault, for they had been issued with tickets which bore the same numbers as ours. Flatly declining to break our party in two, they had instantly seized their baggage and made their way out of the coach, and though we had followed and begged that the Countess, at least, would return till other seats had been found, they would not accept this proposal and presently entered a carriage which was not reserved. Such courtesy is devastating. We naturally worried about it for the rest of the day. And when, twenty-four hours later, we saw them at lunch at the Ritz, Daphne had naturally voiced the distress we had felt. The rest, I suppose, was easy – from their point of view.

  Before two minutes had passed we were all introduced and were exchanging such small talk as the moment seemed to demand. It at once emerged that the Count was an Austrian, though Madame Plaza was of American birth. Learning that my wife was from Philadelphia, the Countess mentioned the name of a rather exclusive school.

  “But I was there,” cried Adèle.

  “How very strange,” said the other. “So was I. Before your time, of course. You’re younger than me.”

  This very compelling lie she had proved to the hilt and had then gone on to remember my wife’s relations and friends. That she made no mistake, Adèle is ready to swear, and since her manners were faultless, not one in a thousand would have perceived any reason for disbelief.

  On the following afternoon Daphne, Adèle and Jill had gone to the Plazas’ flat. This was a fine apartment, commanding the Arc de Triomphe and breathing good style. Plaza himself was out, but then and there his wife had delivered the master stroke. Daphne had asked them to lunch, but the lady had pleaded engagements they could not break. This was only a flying visit, and just for the moment their time was not their own. They must leave for Vienna on Thursday. On their return, however, if we were still in Paris…Then, just as the girls were leaving, the Countess had remembered the box – the box which the Count had reserved for a gala performance of Faust on Wednesday night.

  “Now do pray use it,” she said. “We had hoped, of course, to be there. We both love Faust. But now there is some reception to which we must go. So the box will be empty, unless you will use it instead.”

  “You’re awfully kind,” said Daphne, “but isn’t there anyone else you’d like to—”

  “Why should I? We’d like you to use it.”

  “Well, of course we’d love to, but—”

  “Couldn’t you come on?” said Adèle. “I mean, if you’re not too tired.”

  Madame Plaza was more than doubtful, but in the end it was left that we might hope to see them on Wednesday night. Supper had been mentioned, of course, but it had not seemed likely that they would stay out so late. And when they had joined us that evening in time to see the last act, they had been hardly persuaded to come back to our hotel.

  I have done no more than outline the game they played. It might not have been good enough for some people. The unhappy fact remains that it was quite good enough for us. From first to last we were fooled to the top of our bent.

  How they had obtained reservations which coincided with ours was never satisfactorily explained, but that was because some clerk was holding his tongue. The flat, of course, was hired. No embassy had heard of Count Plaza, and Philadelphia knew no more of his wife. Whilst we were at the opera, someone had telephoned to our hotel and, speaking with the night porter, had charged him to see that our wine was not placed upon ice. The speaker had used Berry’s name, and since the latter is notoriously particular about his liquor, the instructions had been accepted without a thought.

  Indeed, as Berry observed, the ‘treachers’ had paved our way with bad intentions and we had fairly waltzed down it – into the muck.

  “Well, we can’t stay here,” said Daphne. “For one thing I haven’t the heart.”

  Twenty-four hours had gone by, and we were once more in the salon, more or less recovered, discussing our plight.

  “I agree,” said Adèle. “We came to play about Paris, and – and somebody’s pinched our ball.”

  “You can buy a new one.” said Berry. “All the stuff was insured, and the Quartier Vendôme is just the place to refit.”

  “I don’t want a new one,” said my sister. “I want my old ball back. A week ago I longed for half the jewels in the Rue de la Paix. But now my desire has gone. I never knew the value I set upon what I had.”

  “That’s right,” said Adèle. “We shall replace them, of course. But it won’t be the same. Mine were bought gradually. Each one was a precious extravagance which Boy and I couldn’t afford. And how can Jill’s pearls be replaced?”

  “They can’t,” said Piers gloomily. “There’ll be a row about that.”

  “Rot,” said Berry. “If somebody steals an heirloom it’s not your fault. You showed reasonable care. So did I and Boy and Jonah. It’s the women that let us in.”

  A pregnant silence succeeded this monstrous charge. Then –

  “‘The women?’” said Daphne shakily. “What do you mean?”

  “What I say,” said her husband shortly. “Who picked up the Plazas? Who walked bung up to their table an’ gave them a face full of teeth?”

  “How dare you?” cried Daphne furiously. “And you know I spoke for us all. It was you who said, ‘Ask them to dinner,’ and slimed round that awful woman and—”

  “That’s right,” said Berry. “Be rude. That’s what I get for entertaining your friends.”

  “They weren’t my friends,” shrieked Daphne.

  “Well, Adèle’s then,” said Berry. “Who sat around in their flat and lapped them up? Who came back and said they were diplomats?” He raised his eyes to heaven and covered his face. “Diplomats! Give me strength.”

  “You thought they were, too,” cried Jill. “You know you did. And when they hung back, you pressed them to come to supper and said we’d be all alone.”

  My brother-in-law frowned.

  “I had no option,” he said stiffly.
“My hand was forced – as usual. And now I’ll tell you something. I never liked the man.”

  The suggestio falsi was received with a storm of disapproval to which its author listened with a pitying smile. As it died down–

  “If that’s the case,” said I, “why didn’t you give us the tip?”

  “Why argue with the brute?” said Daphne. “It’s a wicked lie, and he knows it. Oh, and if you were so suspicious, why did you drink the wine?”

  Her husband shrugged his shoulders.

  “One can’t be stand-offish,” he said. “You were all sloshing it down, and if I had drunk water—”

  “Pity you didn’t,” said Jonah. “That would have made us think. Never mind. The highest you can put it is that we are guilty of contributory negligence. All of us – equally. I tell you frankly, I never gave the Plazas a thought.”

  “Nor did anyone else,” said I. “They were very civil, and we were civil back. Where we tore it right up was in letting a perfect stranger fix our wine.”

  “But we did it together,” cried Piers. “He asked me to give him the salt, and I stood by his side. I saw him open the bottle and I could have sworn he never put anything in.”

  “Sleight of hand,” said Jonah. “He opened the bottle five minutes before it was used.”

  “He said it’d cool quicker open.”

  “And then he left you to serve it and came and sat down. But what an artist. Never mind. What do we do?”

  “We’d better go home,” said Daphne. “We’d better pack up and go to White Ladies at once.”

  “We can’t do that,” said I. “The painters are in.”

  This was a fact. The house would not be ready for three or four weeks.

  “Let’s go to Irikli,” said Jill. “It’s lovely now.”

  Irikli belonged to the Duke of Padua. When I say that it added to the beauty for which the Lake of Como is justly famed, I am stating no more than the truth.

  “Yes, let’s,” said Piers. “I’ll go on and get it ready, and—”

  “Why go away?” said Jonah, filling his pipe. “We’ve taken a nasty knock, but why clear out of the ring?”

  For the first time since the outrage my heart leaped up, for though I had not said so, I would have given the world for a smack at the thieves. Compensation was all very well – so far as it went. So far as I was concerned, it went a very short way. What I wanted was satisfaction. I wanted to see the Plazas stand in the dock. And I had a desperate feeling that nothing the police could do would ever bring this about.

  I think I may be forgiven – the crime was a dirty crime. War had been made upon women from first to last. The men of the party had practically been ignored, but Daphne, Adèle and Jill had been insulted and robbed. Compared with theirs, our losses were scarcely worth setting down. The attack had been made upon them – for what they had. They had been fooled: they had been drugged: they had been robbed: and the five grown men who should have been their protectors had been of no more use than a pack of drunken servants that prefer their own amusement to the common duty they owe.

  “Jonah,” said I, “I’m with you, but what can we do? For only one thing, we were bound to call in the police: and when the police came in, the matter went out of our hands.”

  “Don’t you believe it,” said Jonah. “The police’ll go their own way: if we like to go ours, there’s no reason why we should collide.” He flung himself into a chair and crossed his legs. “You see, the point is this. For a month or six weeks the Plazas won’t try to leave France. If they tried to leave France, they’d be taken – the nets are spread. And they’re damned fine nets – that’s where the French police excel. Where they fail is that the bird must go to the net. In England it’s different: but there the net isn’t so fine. You can’t have it every way.”

  “You seem to know a lot about it,” said Berry.

  “Hearsay,” said Jonah shortly. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t,” said my brother-in-law. “I face the facts instead. What if the Plazas are in France? What if they’ve hidden the stuff under somebody’s bed? Hell of a lot of beds in France, you know.”

  “I agree,” said Jonah. “We can’t look under them all. And if we could, it would be silly. The stuff’s not under a bed. It’s in a safe-deposit.”

  “That’s common sense,” said I. “But where do we start?”

  “There you can search me,” said Jonah. “But if we leave the country, we throw up the sponge.” He paused to set a match to his pipe. “There’s the Villiers’ place near Dieppe. They’d be only too glad to let it for June and July.”

  “But Jonah, dear,” purred Daphne, “d’you think we’ve the slightest chance? I mean, if the police can’t get them, what can we do?”

  “We can look about,” said my cousin. “You never know.”

  “Well, I protest,” said Berry. “The thing’s absurd. And I know what ‘look about’ means. You don’t get me standing outside any cafés with a false nose on and singing ‘Abide with me’.”

  “But don’t you want to get the Plazas?” said Adèle uncertainly.

  “I want quite a lot of things, but I’m not such a fool as to waste my life trying to jump when they’re out of my reach. We are seven: with Casca, eight. How the devil are we to comb France? You might as well try to empty the Welsh Harp with a stomach pump on a rainy night.”

  “Must you be vulgar?” said his wife.

  “Yes,” said Berry, “I must. Futility always arouses what baser instincts I have. As a boy I was corporally reproved for my definition of algebra. I said it was like—”

  A shriek of protest smothered the impious revival just in time. Still, what Berry had said was much to the point. With nothing whatever to go on, what could we do?

  “If you think there’s a chance,” said Piers, “I’ll come in blind.”

  “So will we all,” said Adèle. “If you think there’s a chance.”

  “Which means that you don’t,” said Jonah, and got to his feet.

  “There’s always a chance,” said Berry. “Plaza might lose his memory and stop me to ask who he was. And he might do it near Dieppe. So let’s take the villa – in case. It’s only nine miles from the town, so we shan’t need a car. I can walk in and get the bread – easily. And if it’s wet I can always take the stringbag.”

  Jill was shaking with laughter, and one of Adèle’s slim hands went up to her mouth.

  “I fully admit,” said Jonah, “the force of the point you make.” He leaned against the wall and folded his arms. “On the face of it, it is futile for us to make any attempt to recover the jewels or to bring the thieves to book. Quite futile. And futility breaks the heart… If I press you enough, you’ll stay – I’m sure of that. You’ll do it ‘to make me pleasure,’ as Casca would say. But that’s no use to me. You’ve got to work hard – as I shall. Stand out in the rain and go hungry and lose your sleep. And you won’t do that – no one would – when you know in your hearts that it’s futile…beating the air. And so I must prove that it won’t be beating the air…that what we do won’t be futile, but ordinary common sense.”

  Everyone sat very still. Jonathan Mansel was not the man to waste words. If he said…

  “I don’t want to do it,” he continued. “I’d rather you trusted me. But I’m up against human nature, and so I must prove my case. But before I do it, I want you to give me your word that the proof I’m going to give you will not go beyond this room. More. That you’ll never give it away by word or look or deed to a single soul.”

  A breathless silence succeeded my cousin’s words.

  Then –

  “We swear,” said Berry. “We give you our solemn oath.” An excited, definite murmur endorsed the pledge. “Have you given this clue to the police?”

  “It’s not a clue,” said Jonah. “It’s a simple, downright proof that if we stay in France and use what wits we have we shan’t be wasting our time. All the same, I’ve not told the police, because that woul
d have been futile – you’ll soon see why. And now hold on to something. I’m going to give you a shock. The Plazas deserve great credit. They played a most difficult game, and they played it devilish well. But I think you’ll agree that so far as play acting’s concerned, the honours must go to Casca – Casca de Palk.”

  For a moment there was dead silence. Then a gasp of amazement greeted the staggering charge. For myself, I confess that I sat as though turned to stone.

  “Oh, Jonah,” breathed Jill, “are you sure?”

  Her brother stepped to the table and laid upon it two wads. These were of cotton wool, were stained a faint brown and fairly reeked of tobacco.

  “These wads were in the fireplace when Boy woke me up. They were almost the first thing I saw. If you remember, I was lying close to the grate. No one employs them but Casca. They’re made for the cigarette-tube we gave him last year. Now Casca had not been smoking when we went down.”

  “That’s right,” cried Piers. “When I took him the box, he refused. He said that one oughtn’t to smoke just before a meal.”

  “It follows,” continued my cousin, “that Casca smoked quite a lot while we were asleep.”

  “But it may have been the Plazas,” cried Adèle. “They may have pinched his tube, and—”

  “If they did, they took the trouble to give it him back. He was using it yesterday morning, before he left the hotel.”

  With his words the telephone rang.

  “Talk of the devil,” said Jonah. “I’ll lay a pony that’s him.”

  “Act Two, Scene One,” said Berry, and stepped to the instrument.

  Before we could beg him to be cautious, he had the receiver off.

  “Hullo,” he cried, “hullo… Oh, is that you, Casca? We were just speaking of you. How’s your head, old cock… Oh, that’s no good… No, I’ve not finished yet, dear lady. Ne coupez pas. I’ll tell you what I’ll do when I’ve finished. I’ll put the receiver back… No, Casca. That’s no good. What you want is some leeches. Order in half a dozen, and I’ll come and put them on… But it’s not the slightest trouble. I’d love to. Besides, they just dig themselves in. And once they’re gorged, they come away in your hand… No, I’ve not finished yet, you vixen. Ne coupez pas. Why the devil… What? You don’t want the leeches? Oh, well, perhaps you know best. Come and have lunch instead… Yes, something quite slight. A spot of foie gras and a gallon of half and half. Half stout and half milk. That’ll do your head good… Oh, nothing like it, my boy. Tunes up the system, you know, and makes the liver think…What’s that? You won’t take it? You know, mon Casca, I don’t believe you want to get well. Never mind. Don’t be late. We want you to meet some people we met on the train… Oh, no. Quite different to the Plazas. All the same, if I were you, I should leave your cigarette case at home. Just in case, you know. No, I have not, you viper. NE COUPEZ PAS. Didn’t I say… Yes, Casca. Your cigarette case. The platinum one your brother had – I say, don’t bring it, in case… What? You haven’t got it to bring? Why?… The Plazas took it? Oh, go on… Well, why on earth didn’t you say so?”