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‘Quite right, my dear Raoul. You advised me to take this precaution, if you remember.’
‘Certainly.’
‘Quite correct,’ said Mr Ogden emphatically. ‘We may all be OK but that doesn’t say we’ve got to act crazy.’ He stopped short, turned bright red, and glanced uneasily at Father Garnette.
‘Anything else in the safe?’ asked Alleyn.
‘The banking-book is there. That, I believe, is all,’ murmured M. de Ravigne.
‘Right. Well, we’ll just check it over. I’ll ask Mr Garnette to do that. It’s purely a matter of form. You will notice we sealed it last night. The usual procedure under the circumstances. Now, Mr Garnette, if you please.’
He produced the bunch of keys, gave them to Father Garnette and himself broke the police seal. Father Garnette rose, opened the safe and took out the contents one by one, laying them on the table. Nigel noticed that the parcel had been replaced. Bailey must have done that and put a fresh seal on the safe. The cash was counted by Fox who found it correct.
‘Have you looked at the parcel of bearer bonds?’ asked Alleyn.
Father Garnette glanced at him.
‘No,’ he said. He sounded anxious and surprised. ‘No, I have not.’
‘Just open it,’ suggested Alleyn, ‘and make sure there has been no theft. We’ve got to explore every possibility.’
Father Garnette undid the red ribbon and pulled open the brown paper.
A neat wad of newspaper lay revealed.
One would have thought it impossible for Father Garnette’s face to look more unhealthy than it already was that morning, but it undoubtedly became a shade more livid when the contents of the parcel were displayed. It also became absolutely expressionless. For about three seconds he stood still. Then he raised his eyes and stared inimically at Alleyn. Nigel wondered if, for a moment, the priest had a mad idea that the police had played a practical joke on him. Alleyn returned his glance gravely. Suddenly Father Garnette seized the newspaper and with an ugly fumbling movement clawed it apart, shook the leaves open, and then as abruptly, let them fall again. When he spoke it was in a curiously dead voice, as though his throat had closed.
‘Robbed!’ he said, ‘I’ve been robbed – robbed.’
They had watched Father Garnette and Father Garnette only, so that when Mr Ogden produced his national classic expression of incredulity it made them all jump.
Mr Ogden placed both hands on the table and leant towards his spiritual leader.
‘Oh, yeah?’ said Mr Ogden.
CHAPTER 16 Mr Ogden Puts his Trust in Policemen
‘Is that so?’ continued Mr Ogden; and then, for all the world as though he was an anthology of Quaint American Sayings, he completed the trilogy by adding in a soft undertone:
‘Sez you?’
They all turned to watch Mr Ogden. His good-natured face had settled down into a definitely hard-boiled expression. His lower lip stuck out, his eyes were half-closed. He spoke out of one corner of his mouth. He leant easily on the table, but the very seams of his coat looked tense. He did not remove his gaze from Father Garnette, but he addressed the table at large.
‘Folks,’ he said, ‘I guess we’re the Simps from Simpleton. Cable address Giggle-Giggle. No flowers by request.’
‘What the hell do you mean?’ asked Maurice Pringle.
De Ravigne swore very softly in French.
‘What do you mean?’ replied Mr Ogden, never taking his eyes off Garnette. ‘What do I mean? Aren’t you conscious yet? Who’s taken care of the keys ever since Cara parked those bonds in the safe? Didn’t we say, right now, Father Garnette had been wearing his keys for safety’s sake? Safety is right. ‘I reckon those bonds are so darned safe we’ll never see them any more.’
‘What do you mean, Mr Ogden?’ asked Miss Wade. ‘I’m afraid ‘I don’t quite follow. Has this money been stolen?’
‘Nope,’ answered Mr Ogden. ‘It’s just kind of disguised itself as the Daily Mail.’
‘But I don’t understand –’
‘Cara’s bonds have been stolen, Miss Wade,’ said Janey impatiently, ‘and newspaper substituted. You can see for yourself.’
‘Who has done this?’ demanded Father Garnette suddenly. He had drawn himself up to his full height. The resonance had come back to his voice, and something of the old dominance to his manner. He was wearing that dark-green garment – a sort of cassock that covered his neck and hung heavily about his feet. In a raffish, theatrical kind of fashion he looked extremely impressive. He puzzled Nigel, who had expected him to crumble up when the theft of the bonds was revealed. He had watched Garnette, and the priest was either dumbfounded or the best actor off the stage that Nigel had ever seen.
‘Who has done this?’ repeated Garnette. He turned his head and stared round the circle of Initiates.
‘I swear I never touched the safe,’ bleated Claude Wheatley in a hurry.
‘I suggest, Father, that you yourself are best situated to answer this question,’ said de Ravigne softly. ‘It makes itself apparent. As we have said and you have also agreed – you have kept these keys about your person since our poor Cara made her gift.’
‘How dare you!’ cried Mrs Candour shrilly. ‘How dare you suggest such a thing, M. de Ravigne? Father!’
‘Quiet, my child,’ said Father Garnette.
Maurice Pringle burst out laughing. The others stared at him scandalized.
‘Look at him,’ coughed Maurice, ‘look! To the pure all things are pure.’
‘Maurice!’ cried Janey.
‘Just a minute, please,’ said Alleyn.
They had forgotten all about Alleyn, but now they listened to him.
‘Mr Pringle,’ he said, ‘will you be good enough to pull yourself together? You are behaving like a hysterical adolescent. That’s better. I gather from what you have all said that no one is prepared to volunteer information about the missing bonds.’ Father Garnette began to speak, but Alleyn raised a finger. ‘Very well. I now wish to bring another exhibit to your notice. The book, if you please, Fox.’
Inspector Fox loomed forward and put a book into Alleyn’s hand. Alleyn held it up. It was a copy of Abberley’s Curiosities of Chemistry.
‘Quis?’ said Alleyn lightly.
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