One does do things like that sometimes.’ Bobby agreed that one did and asked how the subject of the Nicholsons had come up, but that Mrs Rivington was unable to tell him. She had been out with Henry Bassington-ffrench in the garden and had come in to find the others discussing the Nicholsons.
So far, the conversation had proceeded easily, Bobby pumping the lady without any camouflage, but she now displayed a sudden curiosity.
‘But what is it you want to know about Mr Carstairs?’ she asked.
‘I really wanted his address,’ explained Bobby. ‘As you know, we act for him and we’ve just had a rather important cable from New York – you know, there’s rather a serious fluctuation in the dollar just now -‘ Mrs Rivington nodded with desperate intelligence.
‘And so,’ continued Bobby rapidly, ‘we wanted to get into touch with him – to get his instructions – and he hasn’t left an address – and, having heard him mention he was a friend of yours, I thought you might possibly have news of him.’ ‘Oh, I see,’ said Mrs Rivington, completely satisfied. ‘What a pity. But he’s always rather a vague man, I should think.’ ‘Oh, distinctly so,’ said Bobby. ‘Well,’ he rose, ‘I apologize for taking up so much of your time.’ ‘Oh, not at all,’ said Mrs Rivington. ‘And it’s so interesting to know that Dolly Maltravers really did – as you say she did.’ ‘I said nothing at all,’ said Bobby.
‘Yes, but then lawyers are so discreet, aren’t they?’ said Mrs Rivington with a little gurgle of laughter.
‘So that’s all right,’ thought Bobby, as he walked away down Tite Street. ‘I seem to have taken Dolly Whatsemame’s character away for good, but I daresay she deserves it, and that charming idiot of a woman will never wonder why, if I wanted Carstairs’ address, I didn’t simply ring up and ask for it!’ Back in Brook Street he and Frankie discussed the matter from every angle.
‘It looks as though it were really pure chance that took him to the Bassington-ffrenches,’ said Frankie thoughtfully.
‘I know. But evidently when he was down there some chance remark directed his attention to the Nicholsons.’ ‘So that, really, it is Nicholson who is at the heart of the mystery, not the Bassingtonffrenches?’ Bobby looked at her.
‘Still intent on whitewashing your hero,’ he inquired coldly.
‘My dear, I’m only pointing out what it looks like. It’s the mention of Nicholson and his nursing home that excited Carstairs. Being taken down to the Bassington-ffrenches was a pure matter of chance. You must admit that.’ ‘It seems like it.’ ‘Why only “seems”?’ ‘Well, there is just one other possibility. In some way, Carstairs may have found out that the Rivingtons were going down to lunch with the Bassington-ffrenches. He may have overheard some chance remark in a restaurant – at the Savoy, perhaps. So he rings them up, very urgent to see them, and what he hopes may happen does happen. They’re very booked up and they suggest his coming down with them – their friends won’t mind and they do so want to see him. That is possible, Frankie.’ ‘It is possible, I suppose. But it seems a very roundabout method of doing things.’ ‘No more roundabout than your accident,’ said Bobby.
‘My accident was vigorous direct action,’ said Frankie coldly.
Bobby removed Lord Marchington’s clothes and replaced them where he had found them. Then he donned his chauffeur’s uniform once more and they were soon speeding back to Staverley.
‘If Roger has fallen for me,’ said Frankie demurely, ‘he’ll be pleased I’ve come back so soon. He’ll think I can’t bear to be away from him for long.’ ‘I’m not sure that you can bear it, either,’ said Bobby. ‘I’ve always heard that really dangerous criminals were singularly attractive.’ ‘Somehow I can’t believe he is a criminal.’ ‘So you remarked before.’ ‘Well, I feel like that.’ ‘You can’t get over the photograph.’ ‘Damn the photograph!’ said Frankie.
Bobby drove up the drive in silence. Frankie sprang out and went into the house without a backward glance. Bobby drove away.
The house seemed very silent. Frankie glanced at the clock.