Biggles Sorts it Out Page 2

  ‘You didn’t go into the shop to examine the ring closely, or ask the man how he had come by it?’

  ‘No. You see, I wasn’t absolutely certain that the ring was mine. That evening, when I got home, I went to the safe to refresh my memory. Judge my dismay when I found that not only was the ring missing but everything else.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I sat down to think about it.’

  ‘You haven’t been back to the shop?’

  ‘No. I couldn’t prove that the ring was mine: that it had been stolen.’

  ‘So you came to the conclusion that the thief was your footman, Browning?’

  ‘Everything pointed to it.’

  ‘Such as, for instance?’

  ‘He had gone. Disappeared.’

  ‘Don’t you know where he is?’

  ‘I haven’t the remotest idea. A month or so ago I had to speak to him rather sharply and he walked out on me. He must have taken the jewels with him.’

  ‘What was the trouble?’

  Lord Langdon hesitated. ‘This is rather a delicate matter, the chief reason why I have done nothing about the robbery. I would hate to have this made public, but it seemed to me that Browning was becoming too familiar with my daughter.’

  ‘Could you be a little more specific, sir? What do you mean by familiar?’

  ‘They were having secret meetings. I had noticed them exchanging glances, so I kept my eyes open. I came upon them whispering on the stairs. One evening I saw Lady Caroline, my daughter, leave the house by a side door and walk across to a shrubbery. I followed and found her talking to Browning. They could only have met there by appointment. No good can come of that sort of thing. Apart from the difference in their ages, my daughter is an heiress. Heiresses have, I am aware, been known to marry servants, but that sort of marriage seldom works out. Caroline is still only a girl, not yet seventeen, and I didn’t want to see her make a fool of herself.’

  ‘What did you do about this?’ asked the Air Commodore.

  ‘I sent for Browning and told him in no uncertain manner that this familiarity had got to stop.’

  ‘What did he say to that?’

  ‘He got on the high horse almost to the point of insolence. He said there had never been the slightest suggestion of intimacy with my daughter and never could be.’

  ‘Did he say could, or would?’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘It might. There is a distinction.’

  ‘I think he said could.’

  ‘What exactly did you take that to mean?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Does your daughter go out much?’ inquired Biggles.

  ‘Very seldom. What has that to do with it?’

  ‘I was only thinking, it would be understandable for her to find someone to talk to, a companion, in the house.’

  ‘Possibly, but I was not prepared to risk what that might lead to.’

  ‘So you discharged him?’

  ‘No. I warned him to remember his place and let it go at that.’

  ‘Did he?’

  ‘As far as I know, for the short time after that he remained with me. One morning he was no longer here and he has not been seen since.’

  ‘Did he know what was in the safe?’

  ‘I don’t see how he could have known. I certainly didn’t tell him.’

  ‘But if he took the jewels he must have known they were there.’

  ‘I cannot recall ever opening the safe while he was in the room.’

  ‘How many keys of the safe are there?’

  ‘Only one.’

  ‘Who keeps it?’

  ‘I do, although I don’t actually carry it about with me. For the sake of convenience it is always kept in this thing.’ The ‘thing’ to which Lord Langdon pointed was a small carved ivory box on the mantelpiece.

  ‘Is the key still there?’ asked Biggles.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did Browning know the key of the safe was kept in that box?’

  ‘Not unless he discovered it by accident, which seems unlikely, since he seldom had reason to work in this room.’

  ‘Did your daughter know where the key of the safe was kept?’

  Lord Langdon frowned. ‘What does that imply? Are you suggesting that my daughter may have taken the jewels?’

  ‘Certainly not, sir.’

  ‘As they will one day be hers, it is hardly likely that she would help a thief to take them by telling him where the key of the safe was kept.’

  Biggles agreed that it did seem improbable. ‘I am only trying to make sense of something which doesn’t quite add up. Am I right in thinking that only you and your daughter knew what was in the safe?’

  ‘Yes, to the best of my knowledge.’

  ‘Have the jewels ever been exposed so that a professional thief would know the jewels were somewhere in the house?’

  ‘Until they disappeared they hadn’t been taken out of the safe for more than five years. The last time they were worn was by my late wife.’

  ‘I see, sir,’ said Biggles quietly. ‘Let us change the subject. I was given to understand that somewhere, somehow, aviation came into this disturbing picture. Is that so?’

  ‘Yes. Browning was an air pilot. He held a pilot’s certificate.’

  Biggles’ eyebrows went up. ‘Indeed! That is interesting. Did he do any flying while he was here?’

  ‘Yes, I believe he did, although I have no definite information about it. When he applied for the vacancy here, he told me that aviation was his hobby and had been for a long time. One of the first things he did when he came here was join the Mealing Flying Club, which is also a flying school. It is only about twelve miles from here. He travelled to and fro on a motor-cycle. He went regularly on his day off. According to Stewart, my butler, all the books in his room were on aviation, navigation and kindred subjects. I understand they are still here. He didn’t bother to take them with him when he left, so apparently he had no further use for them.’

  ‘I’d like to see them sometime, if I may,’ requested Biggles. ‘They may provide a clue as to his whereabouts.’

  ‘Whenever you wish. That can easily be arranged. Is there anything else you would like to do while you are here?’

  ‘I shall want a full description of this man Browning.’

  ‘I can show you a photograph of him, although it is not a studio portrait.’

  ‘That would be most helpful.’

  Lord Langdon opened a drawer in the table and took out a small piece of paper, about four by three inches, evidently a photograph taken by an amateur. He handed it to Biggles who, when he looked at it, opened his eyes wide in undisguised surprise.

  It showed a tall, dark, lean, good-looking young man in a bush shirt and shorts. In his hand, the butt resting on sandy ground, was a rifle. At his feet, stretched out to its full length, lay a dead leopard. Standing beside him was a short, ugly little man with a pot belly, clad only in a strip of rag in the form of an apron about his loins.

  ‘So this is Richard Browning,’ murmured Biggles.

  ‘Without a doubt.’

  ‘Would you say it is a recent photograph?’

  ‘I’d say it was taken within the last two or three years.’

  ‘He must have just shot the leopard.’

  ‘Presumably.’

  ‘Not the sort of pastime one would have expected of a footman.’

  ‘That thought did not escape me.’

  ‘What explanation did he give when he showed you this?’

  ‘He didn’t show it to me. It came into my hands after he had gone, and then only by an odd chance. I picked up a book my daughter had been reading to put it away. This picture, which had apparently been used as a bookmark, fell out.’

  ‘And you kept it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You didn’t mention it to her?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I left it to her to ask me if I had seen it. T
hat would have provided me with an opportunity to question her about it. But she has never mentioned it. Neither have I.’

  ‘Browning must have given it to her.’

  ‘I suppose so. What do you make of it?’

  ‘Obviously Browning was not always a footman. This photograph was taken in a rarely visited part of South Africa; to be precise, in the Kalahari Desert.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘The native is a Bushman. You won’t find them anywhere else.’

  ‘Have you been there?’

  ‘Yes. Once. A long time ago.’

  ‘You are quite right. This snapshot must have been taken in the Kalahari. Further proof is provided by the leopard. The pattern of the markings are unique to the Kalahari. I can confirm that.’

  ‘There was a third person present at the time; the man who held the camera. I think that’s about all we can say about it. Did Browning ever mention to you that he had been to Africa?’

  ‘No.’

  Biggles passed the photograph on to the Air Commodore. ‘I’m afraid this doesn’t help us much,’ he said. ‘In fact, it merely extends the possible range of Browning’s whereabouts.’

  ‘As I said earlier, I’m not interested in Browning,’ said Lord Langdon shortly. ‘But I would like my rubies back.’

  ‘You can’t have one without the other,’ returned the Air Commodore, dryly. ‘There has been a robbery and it will have to be cleared up. We shall of course do our best to keep your name out of the papers.’

  ‘Very well. Is there anything else you would like to do while your here?’

  ‘I would like to have a word with your daughter, alone, if you have no objection,’ Biggles said. ‘If that’s all right with you, sir,’ he added, to the Air Commodore.

  Lord Langdon said, ‘I have no objection, but you will learn nothing from her. She will not even discuss the matter with me.’

  ‘She knows what has happened, of course.’

  ‘She had to know.’

  ‘She may talk to me, or she may let something slip. If she was sufficiently interested in Browning to accept this photograph she must know something about his background.’

  ‘I agree; but if she knows anything she will not divulge it. She is in her sitting-room, where she now spends most of her time.’

  ‘Does she seem very unhappy over the disappearance of Browning?’

  ‘Curiously enough, not particularly.’

  ‘In view of what you have told us, my lord, I would have thought she would be in a state of distress.’

  ‘Nothing like that.’

  ‘Hadn’t you better ask her first if she will see me?’

  ‘She would almost certainly refuse. If I show you in, taken by surprise she could hardly object without being rude. Come this way.’

  CHAPTER 3

  THE LADY CAROLINE

  OUTSIDE, in the corridor, Lord Langdon stopped to tap gently on a side door. He opened it and entered. ‘Ah, Caroline, there you are,’ he said. ‘I thought I’d find you here. I want you to meet Inspector Bigglesworth of Scotland Yard. He would like a few words with you.’ Having said this, he brought Biggles in and then withdrew, closing the door behind him.

  Biggles walked slowly forward, taking stock of the Lady Caroline Langdon. She was half sitting, half reclining on a settee, a magazine in her hands. There was nothing particularly remarkable about her. She was slight, as would have been expected from her age, with the dark hair and eyes of her father. She was attractive in a severe sort of way rather than pretty. She was dressed simply in a tweed skirt and polo-necked pullover. She did not move, but regarded her visitor with frank disfavour, meeting his eyes squarely.

  Without waiting for Biggles to speak, she said: ‘I don’t want to appear discourteous, Inspector, but if you have come to ask questions you are wasting your time. I have nothing to say.’

  ‘Does that mean you know nothing or won’t say anything?’

  ‘Take it which way you like.’

  ‘Oh come, Lady Caroline, aren’t you being rather hard on your father?’

  ‘No harder than he is with me.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘We are out of sympathy.’

  ‘You do not see eye to eye in certain matters, eh?’

  ‘You can put it like that. You may sit down, but I hope you won’t stay too long.’

  ‘Thank you. You know why I am here?’

  ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘In view of what has happened, you could hardly expect your father to do nothing about it.’

  ‘I don’t care what he does. That is entirely up to him. I’m not interested.’

  ‘Even though the missing articles will one day become your property?’

  ‘I don’t want the jewels, if that’s what you mean.’

  ‘Then you must be a very singular young woman.’

  ‘Perhaps I am. Is that all?’

  ‘Not quite. You know, of course, that your father’s ex-footman, Richard Browning, is suspected of stealing the jewels.’

  ‘He did not steal them.’

  ‘I was hoping you would help me to prove that; otherwise he will remain under suspicion all his life—or until he is caught. I am not here to condemn him but to try to arrive at the truth. If you would help me it might well be to his benefit.’

  ‘There are facts in this case, Inspector, which you are never likely to guess.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘That is for you to find out.’

  ‘By withholding what you know, you are doing both your father and Browning a grave disservice. You are obviously protecting Browning. Why?’

  No answer.

  ‘At least tell me this,’ went on Biggles. ‘It would explain your attitude. How far with Browning did your friendship go?’

  ‘Quite a long way.’

  ‘Let me put it bluntly. Were you, or are you, in love with him?’

  A flicker of a smile softened Caroline’s face. ‘No. There could never be any question of marriage, if that’s what you mean. Had that been possible, it is unlikely I would be here now. I would have run away with him. Does that shock you?’

  ‘Not particularly.’

  ‘We were just good friends.’

  ‘Was he already married, perhaps?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You’re quite sure of that?’

  ‘Quite sure.’

  ‘You’re being very mysterious.’

  ‘Life is full of mysteries.’

  ‘You’re rather young to have discovered that.’ Biggles smiled.

  ‘I’m learning.’

  ‘Do you know where Browning is now?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Oh come on, Lady Caroline. Be frank with me. It could save everyone a lot of trouble. Are you asking me to believe that he has gone completely out of your life?’

  ‘I’m not asking you to believe anything.’

  ‘In your conversation with him he must have told you something about his past life.’

  ‘Quite a lot.’

  ‘About the time he spent in Africa, for instance?’

  Her eyes opened wide at that, telling Biggles the shot had gone home. ‘I never mentioned Africa,’ she said sharply.

  ‘No. I did.’

  ‘Why Africa?’

  ‘He had to live somewhere and it wasn’t necessarily in England. You know the references he produced were forgeries?’

  ‘I know it now.’

  ‘It suggests he had some particular reason for wanting to come here.’

  ‘I suppose that is possible.’

  ‘Was it because he knew what was in the safe in the library?’

  ‘Really, Inspector! I’m not a thought-reader. How could I know what he was thinking? If you are trying to trap me I shall have to ask you to leave.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Lady Caroline, but please try to realize that I am only doing my job. You have made it clear that you don’t want to help me, so let us say no more about it. But sooner or la
ter, with your help or without it, I shall learn the truth of this matter. The law has a long arm and an even longer memory. I think I ought to warn you of the possible consequences of being an accessory to a felony.’

  ‘I accept the risk.’

  ‘Did you yourself take the jewels from the safe?’

  ‘No.’

  Biggles stood up. ‘Very well. Now I will leave you. Thank you for having received me, even though you haven’t been what one might call co-operative.’ He hesitated. ‘Your decision in this matter is final?’ he queried.

  ‘What decision?’

  ‘To protect Browning.’

  ‘Would you betray a friend, Inspector?’ she parried.

  ‘That depends on what you mean by betray. I might, if I was convinced it was for his own good.’ Biggles walked slowly towards the door.

  ‘What are you going to do now?’ she asked.

  Biggles turned. ‘I’m going to find Browning, of course.’

  ‘I wouldn’t give much for your chance, Inspector.’

  ‘You may be surprised,’ Biggles told her, and leaving the room returned to the library.

  ‘Well, did you have any success?’ inquired Lord Langdon, with a touch of asperity.

  ‘In a negative sort of way, yes, sir.’

  ‘What did she tell you?’

  ‘It was what she declined to tell me that I found most informative.’

  ‘What did she say about Browning?’

  ‘Practically nothing. She refuses to be drawn.’

  ‘Do you think she’s in love with the rascal?’

  ‘In my considered opinion, no.’

  ‘Then why does she refuse to discuss him?’

  ‘I don’t know. There must be a reason. I have an impression there is, or was, an understanding between them; a sort of attachment, a bond if you like, which prevents her from saying anything that might be detrimental. I’m convinced that she knows more than she is willing to admit.’

  ‘Do you think there is any likelihood of her running away to marry him?’

  ‘I don’t know what’s in her mind, of course, but she assured me that she has no such intention. She was quite frank, and definite, about that. In fact, she assured me she couldn’t marry him.’