Send for Paul Temple Again!. Francis Durbridge

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СКАЧАТЬ East, a visiting-card,’ admitted Forbes. ‘Of course, it may mean nothing at all – just the merest coincidence. After all, most men have a habit of tucking an odd visiting-card in one of their waistcoat pockets.’

      ‘You mean it was one of his own cards?’

      ‘Yes – but there was a name scribbled on the back,’ broke in Crane.

      ‘Oh,’ said Temple. ‘Anyone we know?’

      ‘It conveyed nothing to us at the time. But we found the same name scribbled in the back of a diary which was in Norma Rice’s handbag.’

      ‘This is most interesting,’ said Temple, leaning forward in the chair. ‘And what was the name?’

      ‘It was just “Mrs. Trevelyan”.’

      ‘Trevelyan,’ mused Temple, obviously more than a little intrigued. ‘No address?’

      ‘No address.’

      Forbes shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

      ‘And now you know as much as we do, Temple,’ he murmured dryly. ‘If I didn’t think this business was damned serious, believe me, I wouldn’t be bothering you. In fact, when Lord Flexdale mentioned it, I told him you were up to your eyes in work, but he insisted.’

      Temple sighed.

      ‘I’d like to help you, Sir Graham, I really would,’ he admitted. ‘But you see after that business with the Marquis, I made Steve a promise. I promised her faithfully that under no circumstance would I take on another case.’

      He was about to explain further when the door handle turned and Steve herself came in, wearing an attractive costume and what was obviously a new hat. Temple raised his eyebrows the merest fraction. There was a flicker of amusement round his mobile mouth as he welcomed her.

      ‘Hello, darling. Look who’s here!’

      Steve was patently delighted to see Sir Graham, and went across to shake hands.

      ‘It’s good to see you again after all this time, Sir Graham.’

      ‘And you look younger every time we meet,’ he responded gallantly.

      ‘She certainly looks a very different woman,’ supplements her husband. ‘I say, what the devil have you been doing to yourself, darling?’

      Steve could not repress a smile.

      ‘It’s the new hat, darling. Don’t you like it?’

      Temple put his head on one side and scrutinised the article in question with a serious air.

      ‘Is it back to front?’ he asked at last.

      ‘Of course it’s not back to front!’ retorted Steve indignantly and they all laughed.

      Forbes introduced Crane to Steve and they chatted for some minutes about minor matters. Then, suddenly remembering the hours of work awaiting him at the Yard, Forbes said: ‘Well, I suppose we’d better be getting along. Thanks for the sherry, Temple. Good-bye, Steve. I hope we’ll be meeting again fairly soon. Don’t bury yourself in the country quite so long next time.’

      He picked up his hat and gloves from a chair.

      ‘Why don’t you come to dinner one night while we’re up here, Sir Graham?’ asked Steve. ‘We’d love to have you.’

      Forbes nodded. ‘Let’s make it one night next week. May I give you a ring to let you know?’

      ‘Do,’ urged Temple, accompanying the visitors to the door.

      When he returned, Steve had taken off her hat, and was sitting on the settee placidly knitting. This was an accomplishment she had acquired recently from the housekeeper at Bramley Lodge, and one which she found both soothing and satisfying. Intent upon turning the heel of a sock – the second of the first pair which she intended shortly to present with pride to her husband – she only looked up for a second as he came in.

      ‘You seem very pleased with yourself,’ smiled Temple, going to pour himself another glass of sherry, then changing his mind. ‘Is it the new hat?’

      ‘Yes. It’s a model, you know. Don’t you really like it?’

      ‘It’s got unconditional surrender written all over it!’ laughed Temple.

      ‘No, seriously, what do you think of it?’

      ‘It’s stupendous! It’s terrific! It’s colossal!’ he enthused, rescuing her ball of wool which had rolled under a chair. He went on, ‘How much did it cost?’

      ‘You’ll never know!’ laughed Steve. ‘I paid cash.’ She went on knitting for a while and her husband idly rolled the ball of wool along the edge of the settee.

      ‘What did Sir Graham want?’ asked Steve presently, doing her utmost to make the inquiry sound casual.

      Temple dropped the wool and felt for his cigarette-case.

      ‘Oh, he just happened to be passing,’ he answered lightly.

      She did not speak again for a minute or two. Temple wandered rather restlessly round the room, lighting a cigarette and stubbing out after a few puffs. Presently Steve gave vent to a sigh of relief. ‘Thank goodness, that’s the heel finished!’ she announced. Then, apparently as an afterthought, ‘Paul, have you seen the evening paper?’

      He turned quickly.

      ‘No, darling. Why?’

      Steve reached for her handbag, opened it and took out a small, neatly folded square of paper, which she opened out and passed over to him. The first thing to catch his eye was the streamed headline:

      SCOTLAND YARD SENDS FOR PAUL TEMPLE

      He glanced quickly at the report, then tossed the paper on the floor.

      ‘Darling, you know what they’re like in Fleet Street,’ she murmured apologetically.

      ‘I know,’ Steve nodded, the memories of her newspaper days always fresh in her mind.

      ‘I can’t think where they could possibly get this information from,’ went on Temple hurriedly. ‘Considering we only got here last night—’

      ‘Did Sir Graham mention this Rex affair?’ asked Steve in the same casual tone, though her heart was beating much faster than she would have cared to admit.

      ‘Oh, he mentioned it, of course, in a general sort of way,’ replied Temple vaguely, glancing at his wrist-watch, and suddenly leaping to his feet. ‘I say, I must be off. I’m supposed to be at Broadcasting House at seven sharp.’

      ‘I’ll drive you down,’ she offered.

      ‘Good!’ he agreed. ‘Then if you pick me up later we can have a spot of dinner together and I’ll tell you all the blunders I made.’

      ‘Yes, СКАЧАТЬ