Delphi collected works o.., p.406
Delphi Collected Works of Peter Cheyney Illustrated, page 406
“Well, I’m damned, Johnny.” Her voice was cool. “How do you know that this man is going to be right?”
Vallon said: “I’ve never made a mistake about a man yet, and I know this one very well. You’ll find if anything he’ll be better than I should be. If you’ve got any brains you’ll use him. See what I mean?”
“I understand, Johnny. All right . . . I’ll see him. But, anyhow, I think you’re a heel.”
Vallon grinned. He said: “I know that. Treat him right, and you’ll find he’ll be very good.”
She said: “Have you ever known me not treat anyone right?”
“Like hell I have,” said Vallon. “So long, honey!”
He hung up.
IV
The lift man, who had shown Isles to Suite 126 on the first floor at the Hyde Park Hotel, rang the bell once again; waited; shrugged his shoulders.
Then he said: “Well, it’s very funny. The lady’s in, sir, but she doesn’t answer.”
Isles said casually: “That’s all right. Don’t you bother.”
The lift man went away.
Isles put his finger on the bell-push and kept it there. He could hear the bell ringing inside the apartment. Then, suddenly the door opened.
Isles said: “Good evening. I’m Julian Isles. Mrs. Lyon?”
She stood in the hallway of the suite, holding the door wide open. She wore a garnet-colored, silk velvet house-gown with gold mules. The sleeves of the house-gown were long, edged with chinchilla fur.
She said coldly: “You seem to be in a hurry, Mr. Isles.”
He smiled. When he smiled his face became very attractive. She noted the good-humor lines at the corners of his eyes, his good teeth.
“I’m not if you’re not,” he said. “Mr. Vallon asked me to come round and see you. He said he thought it might be urgent.”
She said: “I was changing. Will you come in?”
He followed her across the hallway into the well-furnished sitting-room. A fire was burning. She walked over to the fireplace; turned; stood with her back to the fire looking at him.
She said: “Perhaps you’d like to leave your hat in the hallway. And would you like a drink?”
“I’d like that very much, thank you.” Isles went back into the hallway; hung up his hat; came back into the room.
She was busy at the sideboard. She said: “Tell me something about yourself.”
Isles thought she had a charming voice.
“Is that going to get us anywhere?” he asked evenly.
She looked at him over her shoulder. He was still smiling.
She thought he would be a rather difficult man to lose one’s temper with. She brought the whisky and soda to him.
She said: “Isn’t it rather natural, Mr. Isles, that when a woman entrusts a commission of some importance to a man she might like to know something about him?”
Isles nodded.
She went to a table; came back with a cigarette box; offered it to Isles; took one herself. He lighted the cigarettes.
“That’s very reasonable,” he said. “But supposing, for the sake of argument, my past history wasn’t very good. I wouldn’t be likely to tell you, would I? On the other hand, as I have been sent to you by John Vallon, it might be in order for you to take that side of the question for granted.”
She went over to the settee; sat down. Isles sat in the armchair by the fire.
She said: “That depends on how well I know Mr. Vallon.”
“Nonsense,” said Isles cheerfully. “You know Vallon pretty well. No woman goes to a man and asks him to look after the safety of a — shall we say— ‘reluctant’ daughter of a friend unless she knows something about him.”
“I see. . . . Tell me, Mr. Isles, exactly what did Mr. Vallon say to you?”
Isles said: “I imagine he told me what you told him. He gave me an outline of the job you wanted me to do. He said you’d be waiting to talk to me about it.”
She got up. She began to walk slowly up and down the long room. He thought she was very effective when she walked, or sat down, or did anything else. He thought she was good.
She said: “I’m perfectly certain if John Vallon thinks you’re all right for this business then you must be. I went to see him tonight because I’m concerned about the daughter of my friend Mrs. Steyning. She’s really a very nice — very beautiful — girl. Actually, basically, she has a charming nature, but I think she’s been worried and has become a little out of hand. You understand?”
Isles said flatly: “No, I don’t. I’d like to know exactly what you mean” — he was still smiling— “by a young lady who is basically charming but has become a little out of hand. How has she got out of hand? Is it money, drink or love? Has she got around with too many men? Is she being blackmailed? Is she drinking too many cocktails? What sort of trouble has this young woman been creating?”
She said quietly: “Mr. Isles, I’m beginning to wonder if I like your attitude towards this business.”
Isles shrugged his shoulders. “Does it matter? My attitude doesn’t come into it. You’ll realize I’m thinking of Mrs. Steyning’s interests. It isn’t very much good my trying to do anything unless I know something about the girl, is it?”
There was a pause; then she said grudgingly: “I suppose you’re right.”
Isles grinned at her.
She went on: “What I meant was this. This girl was very nice — almost a quiet type — until a couple of years ago when she began to do a little travelling. I don’t think she’s ever been very good friends with her mother, if you understand what I mean. They like each other very much” — she smiled suddenly— “but perhaps they’re both good-looking. . . .”
Isles said: “I think I know what you mean. I take it that Mrs. Steyning, who is rather nervous and in a nursing-home at the moment, is a little bit jealous of her daughter — or vice versa. Is that why the girl decided to travel, or was that Mrs. Steyning’s decision?”
“I don’t know. I think they both liked the idea.”
Isles asked: “Had she been making any trouble at home?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m quite definite about that. But suddenly they came to this decision that it would be good for her to travel and she went off.”
Isles said: “When did she start going off the rails — in Europe, or did she wait until she arrived in Dark Bahama?”
She went back to the settee; sat down; crossed her legs. Isles saw that she had very good legs and ankles.
She said: “I can’t answer that question, but I am inclined to believe that some sort of climax happened in Dark Bahama. Whatever it was or whatever had been going on came to a head there.”
Isles said: “That means it’s a man. Am I right?”
She answered: “There might even be more than one.”
He asked: “Has she money?”
She nodded. “She has money, and she’ll have even more in a couple of years.”
He drew on his cigarette. He said: “Maybe some tough egg has been making trouble for her. It’s an old racket. Maybe somebody’s been trying to compromise her and is asking her to pay up to keep him quiet. It has been known, you know.”
“Yes, I believe it has. However, it’s for you to answer these questions, Mr. Isles, when you get there.”
He smiled at her. His smile was lazy. She thought to herself that she liked this man too much, but that in some vague way he irritated her. She thought that there was something devastating about Isles — something almost hypnotic. Yet, under his casual and charming exterior, there was, she thought, something caustic and cynical — almost as if, under his affable and well-groomed exterior, he was laughing at her.
He said: “So you’ve made up your mind I’m to go?”
She nodded. “If you call here tomorrow morning and inquire at the manager’s office there’ll be an envelope for you with a thousand pounds in banknotes inside. This will enable you to arrange your passage and make your own financial arrangements. I want you to get away as soon as possible.”
“I understand,” said Isles. “And after that?”
“I want you to bring this girl back here as quickly as you can. How you do it is your affair. You may find she is a little tough.”
Isles said: “Are you suggesting that I may have to use force?” He smiled again. “Have I to abduct this young woman?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I imagine you’ll find some other means. I should think that you’ve had very little difficulty in handling women, Mr. Isles. I expect that if you can’t manage to deal with her one way you’ll find another.”
“I expect so,” said Isles. “Maybe you’ve the idea in your head that if one man can blackmail her so can another.”
“That depends on how expert you are at blackmail, Mr. Isles.”
“I can always learn, Mrs. Lyon,” said Isles. He went on: “I don’t think you or Mrs. Steyning need worry about this. I’ll bring her back.”
She said shortly: “Good!”
Isles got up; stubbed out his cigarette in an ash-tray on a nearby table. He said: “I don’t suppose I shall have any difficulty in finding her. I take it Dark Bahama isn’t a very big place?”
“You’re quite right. It’s a comparatively small island. However, you may be assisted in that. Some time ago Mrs. Steyning, in an attempt to persuade her daughter to return, sent out her maid — an elderly and very intelligent woman — to try and bring the girl back. She failed, but she’s still on the island. I think when you get there she might telephone you. She’ll probably tell you where Miss Steyning is.”
He said: “That might be a help.”
She got up; came towards him; took his empty glass.
She asked: “Would you like a drink?”
Isles nodded. He thought to himself: What comes now?
She mixed the drink; brought it to him. “Yours must be an interesting profession, Mr. Isles. Have you always been a private detective . . . I suppose that’s what you call yourself?”
Isles drank a little whisky. “I suppose so. I’ve been all sorts of things. In the war I was in the S.A.S., and I was also what is usually described as an agent.”
She said: “I see. . . . You must have had a very rough time.”
He shook his head. “Not more than anyone else in my peculiar profession. And I found it amusing.”
She helped herself to another cigarette. She said: “I suppose you knew John Vallon in those days? I don’t know if he told you, but I asked him to do this for Mrs. Steyning. He didn’t like the idea.” She smiled suddenly. “I should have thought it would have appealed to him.”
Isles said: “It would have done. Johnny used to be a great man for getting around, but you know he’s married now — very happily married. And Chennault Investigations has turned itself into a considerable business. I suppose he has too much on his hands — too much business, I mean — besides Mrs. Vallon. Do you know her?”
She shook her head. “I never met her. Tell me — what is she like?”
Isles said casually: “Well, she’s what they call a very beautiful woman — a very attractive one.” He smiled suddenly. “I might go so far as to say that she’s almost as beautiful as you are, except maybe — —” He shrugged his shoulders.
“Except maybe what?” she asked quickly.
Isles said: “Women vary like everyone else. She’s beautiful and attractive, but she hasn’t quite so much of that thing the Americans call ‘oomph’ . . . or allure . . . or whatever you like to call it, as you have.”
She said almost demurely: “I’m glad you find me alluring.”
“Not at all,” said Isles politely.
She drew on the cigarette; looked at him through the smoke. “I suppose you and John Vallon are great friends?”
He hesitated. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. Good business friends possibly. I’ve done work for him before — quite a lot of work. It doesn’t mean to say that I have to be all that fond of him.”
She raised her eyebrows. She said: “Really!”
He went on: “Men are funny cattle, Mrs. Lyon. They can work together and not necessarily like each other.”
She looked at him sideways. She said softly: “Don’t tell me that you wanted to marry Mrs. Vallon? Don’t tell me that your lack of friendship is due to cherchez la femme — shall we say?”
Isles said glibly: “You might be right.”
There was a pause; then she said: “Women would find you quite a person, Mr. Isles. I should think, with your romantic background, they might find you a very attractive man.”
Isles said: “Thank you very much. Tell me, Mrs. Lyon — how do you find me?”
“You’re certainly forthright.” She smiled at him. “Shall we say that I find you amusing?”
“I’m glad to hear it. I hope Miss Steyning will find me as amusing.”
She said quickly: “Supposing you have some trouble with this girl, what are you going to do?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “How do I know? I’ve got to get there and absorb the atmosphere of this place; find out if I can what’s worrying Miss Steyning; find out if it’s a man or men, and if it is, discover something about them. If they’re not good types one can usually get something on them. I also have to find out something about Miss Steyning from my point of view. Afterwards I shall formulate some plan of campaign.”
She asked: “I suppose you’ll report from time to time to Mr. Vallon?”
He finished the whiskey. “I don’t know that that’s necessary. Johnny’s pushed this job on to me and I don’t think he expects me to report to anybody. After all, there aren’t any reports to be made — not unless Miss Steyning gets very desperate.”
She looked at him quickly. “And supposing she does?”
Isles said: “I shall have to use desperate measures, shan’t I? And even then I don’t suppose I should have to talk about them to anybody. If I bring the girl back everyone’s going to be satisfied, aren’t they, Mrs. Lyon?”
She said: “I suppose so. And that is the answer to the question.”
Isles asked: “Is there anything else?”
“No. . . . I think we understand each other very well.” She went on: “I think it’s rather funny that you and Johnny Vallon should not be such great friends. He has the ability to irritate one sometimes if you know what I mean.”
He nodded. “I know.”
She said: “Well, that’s that. I wish you the best of luck. If you come here in the morning you’ll find the envelope downstairs as I’ve said. I hope you succeed. I feel certain you will.”
She led the way towards the door out into the hall. She put her hand on the latch of the front door. She said: “Good night. If you succeed, you’ll find I shall not be ungrateful.”
Isles said quizzically: “Does that mean you’ll find me a little more attractive than I am?”
She smiled suddenly. “Why not? And even at this moment you’re not doing so badly, Mr. Isles.” She put out her right hand; took his chin in it; kissed him on the mouth.
Isles said: “I think you’re the most extraordinary woman.”
She stood there smiling at him. “Quite a lot of people have discovered that, Mr. Isles. Incidentally, I think you’re a rather extraordinary man.”
He said: “That’s fine. Let’s be extraordinary again, shall we?”
V
It was half-past one when Isles arrived at Vallon’s apartment in Sloane Street. He rang the bell twice; waited patiently. After a minute Vallon, in a dressing-gown, opened the door.
He said: “Come in, Julian. How did you get on?” He led the way down the corridor; opened a door on the right. Isles followed him into a comfortable library. He threw his hat on to a chair.
“I got on all right,” he said.
Vallon asked: “Do you want a drink?”
Isles shook his head. “I’ve had two.” He helped himself to a cigarette from the box on the mantelpiece. “I wonder what the hell she’s playing at, Johnny.”
Vallon said: “So you think she’s playing at something?”
Isles nodded. “Look, this Mrs. Nicola Steyning — the girl’s mother — who’s so worried about her, is in a nursing home. Did Mrs. Lyon tell you where?”
Vallon shook his head.
Isles went on: “She must know that no ordinary private detective or investigator is going to take on a job like this without receiving some definite instruction from the girl’s mother. The only person who can really give them any authority to go after the girl is the mother, isn’t she? Maybe that’s why she came to you. Maybe she thought that you being you wouldn’t ask to see the mother.”
Vallon said: “Why should you think that, Julian?”
“I wouldn’t know,” said Isles. “But I expect she’s been your mistress at some time or other, hasn’t she, Johnny?”
Vallon said: “That’s an odd question, but I see what you mean.”
Isles said: “She ought to have told you where the mother lived, anyway, so that you could have checked, or gone to see her. She didn’t do that because she had an idea when she arrived at your office you wouldn’t handle the job. She knew you’d put it on to someone else — someone you could trust. And she took it that that person, whoever he was, wouldn’t check on anything because the job came from you, and the fact that the job came from you would be good enough for anyone, see?”
Vallon said: “What’s in your mind?”
Isles began to walk up and down the room. He took long, easy strides. There was certainty in his walk.
He said: “I’ll tell you what’s in my mind, Johnny. Our Mrs. Thelma Lyon thinks she’s got away with it. She’s got away with the most difficult part of the job so far as she’s concerned. She thinks that nobody is going to check on Mrs. Steyning; that I won’t check because I’ve been employed by you, and that you certainly are not going to check because you feel under some sort of obligation to her. She asked me what I thought of you. When she asked me a question like that I knew she didn’t expect me to tell her that you were a first-class fellow, so I obliged her. I told her that I didn’t like you very much; that we worked very well together, but as man to man we didn’t hit it off. She jumped to the wrong conclusion, but a very logical one for her to jump to. She concluded that there had been some sort of trouble between us over a woman.”
