Delsie

Chapter Twelve

“It wasn’t my fault! I locked the place up before I left, tight as a drum,” Bristcombe said.

“What has happened?” Mrs. Grayshott demanded.

“We was broken in on while the place was empty.”

“What, visited by burglars?” deVigne queried.

“Yes, milord, and it was no common burglar either, for the door was opened with a key. Must have been — there’s no windows broken, and no sign of monkeying with the locks. He had a key, whoever he was. I locked up every door most particular before I left, knowing I’d be home early, before Mrs. Bristcombe.”

“It is all of a piece,” Delsie said, and stepped into the hallway. “I suppose the vault has been broken into?”

“No, ma’am, it’s only the master’s bedroom as has been mauled about. We took a look all about as soon as we saw the back door standing ajar. The silver’s never been touched, nor the china, nor nothing taken at all.”

“We’d best go have a look,” deVigne said, and headed to the staircase, with everyone, even including Roberta and Miss Milne, at his heels. They were not long in discovering the master bedroom to be a total shambles. The bed had been literally torn apart-the hangings on the floor, the canopy split open with a knife, the mattress on the floor, also split wide open, with a quantity of goose feathers drifting in the breeze. Every drawer of every chest and the desk was upturned on the floor, the contents in a heap.

The entire company was speechless at such wanton vandalism, till Bristcombe pointed out to them that, despite the chaos, nothing here either had been removed. The silver-backed brushes left in place, and a little dish holding some rather fine shirt studs and tie pins and a gold watch not tampered with at all.

“He knew what he was after all right,” deVigne said, with a meaningful look at Mrs. Grayshott, who cautioned him to silence with a scowl.

“A pity,” she said in a brisk tone. “I’ll have one of the girls I’m hiring clean it up tomorrow. It is too late to tackle such a monstrous job tonight. I’ll just lock the door and take the key with me.”

Roberta was reluctant to leave the scene of so much amusement. She was busy kicking up feathers, and blowing them about. Miss Milne led her away, while Bristcombe returned to his kitchen, leaving Delsie and deVigne to go down to the saloon to discuss this new twist in private.

“He was after the money, of course,” she said at once. “I wonder who knew it was there. I don’t put this a bit past the Bristcombes, to have done it themselves while the place was empty.”

“I think not. They had the place to themselves half a week before you came here after Andrew’s death. Why leave it so late?”

“He said the burglar had a key-an ex-servant, that sounds like.”

“Samson,” deVigne said at once. “Andrew’s valet. I paid him off the day after Andrew’s death. If anyone knew Andrew had money stashed in that room, it was he. No doubt he looked around before leaving, but the money was well hidden. You might not have thought to look on top of the canopy yourself, if you hadn’t happened to notice it sagging. Interesting thing-he came to Andrew about three years ago, shortly after Louise’s death. It was not long before, or perhaps after-in any case, around the time of Andrew’s financial troubles, when he sold the place at Merton and tried to get control of Louise’s money. Samson very likely had a key, or could have got one easily enough.”

“He wouldn’t know there was to be no one here on this particular afternoon. Unless he has been skulking about in the rain, spying on us,” she pointed out. “What a pleasant thought! A villain standing at our doorway, with a key to the place in his pocket, to facilitate his entering any time he pleases, to slit our throats or set fire to us.”

“That does not appear to have been his aim, cousin. He waited till the place was empty. Samson would know the Bristcombes often take a Sunday afternoon off, and could have learned with very little trouble, by simple induction, in fact, that you would eat out when your servants were to be away.”

“We shall learn from the constable how he found out. I mean to report him.”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” he answered, rubbing his chin and gazing into the fire.

“How do you plan to stop me?” she asked in a starchy voice.

He looked at her and smiled suddenly. “Wrong tack again. I ought to have urged you to dash off to Questnow at once in search of the constable, to insure your not reporting it. You forget, we have a little illicit business of our own going on here that we do not wish to call official attention to. Only think how embarrassing if it should come out that the valet-I assume our culprit must be Samson-tells he was looking for a fortune got by illegal means by your husband.”

“He’s your brother-in-law! Don’t make it sound as though I am so closely mixed up in it. I suppose it might come out what he was after, but I don’t mean to stay on here in a house where burglars are free to come and go as they please.”

“You are wishing yourself safely back in Miss Frisk’s garret, I collect? Don’t you think it would be better to change the locks, and take your chances?”

Her bosom swelled in indignation. “It has been clear from the outset that you place no store in my safety or comfort, or you would never have made me marry this villain of an Andrew in the first place. But I should think you would show some concern for your own niece!”

“I am concerned for the safety and comfort of you both. If I thought there were the least real danger, you may be sure I would not permit you to stay on here.”

“Permit me? I shall stay if I want to!”

“Oh, very well, then, stay, but I do think you ought to get the locks changed.”

“Oh!” She stamped her foot in vexation at this subtle trap.

“You should really try to control your temper, ma’am. It cannot be good for your heart for you to be so easily vexed. Shall I send a man from the Hall to attend to the locks? I have an excellent chap who does that sort of repair work for myself and the Dower House.”

“Very well,” she sighed in resignation. “I have no doubt that when Roberta and myself are lying on a cold slab, your repairman will also construct a superb set of coffins for us. I would like my daughter’s to be painted white. A plain pine box will do for myself.”

“It would be more fitting to paint it black, as a token of your widowhood,” he suggested piously.

“You would choose a royal purple for yourself, I suppose?”

“I am rather fond of mahogany, varnished. Bear it in mind when I am being laid to rest.”

“Your sort lives forever,” she said, arising in agitation to stalk about the room. “There is one good thing anyway-I got the money before Samson got to it.”

“Possession of the stolen goods is considered an advantage now, is it?” he asked, following her perambulations with his eyes.

“I see no advantage in letting another crook have it. What happened to honor among thieves, I wonder?” Suddenly she stopped walking and returned to the sofa. “DeVigne, I have just had an idea! The man outside last night-it was Samson, trying to get in and go over Andrew’s room while we were all asleep. How fortunate I prevented it.”

“I am curious to hear more about last night. I had the idea you did not tell the whole. How did you prevent his entering, when you did no more than peer out a window?”

She felt a flush suffuse her face, and looked quickly away. “Actually I-I went to the door-opened it. That’s all.”

“Why do you find that a matter for blushing?” he pressed on, observing her with a peculiar, knowing smile. “Come, tell me the whole. You went out, didn’t you, when I most particularly cautioned you not to?”

“I took a step outside,” she admitted.

“Foolhardy in the extreme. Don’t stop now. You stepped outside, and…”

“Well, if you must know, he kissed me.”

“How did you enjoy being kissed by a larcenous valet?” he inquired politely. No anger, no concern at her danger!

“It was not quite so bad as I had thought! There, now I hope you are satisfied.”

“If you are, I have not a word to say against it.”

She sniffed, and changed the subject at once. “I mean to ransack this place from attic to kitchen tomorrow, and I hope you will go through the cellars, as you promised you would do today.”

“I hadn’t realized it was a vow. No Bible was brought forth for me to lay my hand on. Come now, confess you are only angry because you have a devil of a job of cleaning up on your hands. Your life was never in any danger whatsoever, and the intruder did not get the money, so where is the harm? Why, you even got a kiss out of it! I will have the locks changed tomorrow, and you will not be bothered by Samson again.”

“Next you will be telling me I am fortunate to have been burgled at all.”

“A little excitement and adventure are the very things to distract your mind from this melancholy that seems constitutional with you,” he returned reasonably.

“I cannot think burglary is the diversion a doctor would recommend.”

“Very true, but there are so few diversions one can recommend to a widow without offending the proprieties. I daresay even a hand of cards on the Sabbath is not quite the thing. Shall we settle for my poor conversation after all?”

“No, I mean to begin the search tonight, but I shan’t inconvenience you by asking your help.” She arose and began peering under chairs, sofas, tables, and into vases for the canvas bags. After regarding her in amusement for some moments, deVigne shrugged his shoulders and joined in, investigating such unlikely spots as under lace doilies, candle holders, and in the coal scuttle.

“It is not dust and dirt we are looking for, but bags of gold,” she pointed out.

There were few places of concealment in the saloon, and they were soon searched, after which they went to the dining room for a similar treasure hunt. Nothing of the least interest was discovered. They settled for conversation, enriched in the gentleman’s case by a glass of brandy. Before taking his leave, he reminded her to lock the door.

“Much good it will do me!”

“True, but you would look a fool if you were robbed and had to admit you’d left your doors standing on the latch.”

“I shall have the great satisfaction in the morning, when I find the study vault standing open and the money gone, of knowing I did my poor best.”

“Put the money in the bank. It is foolish to leave temptation unguarded. I should have thought you learned that lesson last night, with Mr. Samson in the garden.”