The Crimson Ramblers Read online

  Tony explained.

  ‘Oh, weel,’ said Andy unsympathetically. ‘Ye ought to be thankful. At least she doesna chase ye all over the town.’

  *

  Hargreaves came quickly into the sitting room of Simon Beatal’s suite at the Majestic Hotel.

  ‘I’ve fixed it,’ he said. ‘Granger’s coming.’

  ‘Very nice work, sir.’ The fat man nodded approvingly. ‘What time do you anticipate he will arrive?’

  ‘Somewhere about midnight, I should think,’ said Hargreaves. ‘He’s coming to my bungalow.’

  ‘That was wise, sir. Comfortable as it is in this hotel there is a certain lack of privacy. I feel certain that at your house, we shall find it easier to persuade Mr. Granger to tell us the truth.’

  ‘I’ll persuade him all right,’ said Renton. ‘Leave that to me.’

  ‘Did he seem at all reluctant to visit us, sir?’ asked Beatal.

  ‘Not when he heard the packet had been stolen,’ answered Hargreaves. ‘He was quite eager. He assured me that he would be leaving London almost at once.’ ‘He is coming by car, sir?’

  Hargreaves nodded.

  ‘I hope he has a pleasant journey, sir.’ Simon Beatal laughed. ‘I sincerely hope he has a pleasant journey...’

  *

  ‘Do you know, Andy,’ said Tony wearily. ‘I’ve never been so glad for a show to finish as I have tonight. I feel dog tired.’

  ‘That’s what comes of trying to be a detective,’ said Andy, tying his tie. ‘Ye’re worrying yourself over this packet business.’

  ‘You must admit it’s interesting,’ said Tony. He had finished changing and was all ready to go home.

  ‘I canna make head nor tail of it,’ declared Andy. ‘Vera had a packet and that girl on the train — what did ye say her name was?’

  ‘Jill Manners.’

  ‘She had another packet,’ continued Andy. ‘Then there’s these three men who are after the packet. Which one are they after? Who’s the poor woman who was murdered? It’s like trying to do a crossword puzzle on the morning after Hogmanay.’

  ‘We seem to have got mixed up with a pretty nasty business,’ said Tony.

  ‘Aye — and I’ll tell ye something,’ said Andy. ‘It appears to me that there’s somebody in this company who knows all about it.’

  ‘What makes you think that?’ asked Tony quickly.

  ‘Ye canna tell me that the fact that Vera was chosen to act as messenger for this unknown man, and the fact that the other girl, Jill Manners chose our compartment to get rid of her packet was just a coincidence,’ explained Andy reasonably. ‘There must have been a definite design behind it. Do you see what I mean?’

  ‘Yes, but what was the design?’ said Tony.

  ‘I’m no wiser than you,’ said Andy, shaking his head. ‘Ye think that story Vera told ye was the truth?’

  ‘Don’t you?’ asked Tony.

  Andy shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘I was thinking, maybe, that she knew just a wee bit more than she said. Ah, weel, I’m for me supper an’ me bed.’

  He slipped on his jacket and went over to the door.

  ‘I may as well do the same,’ said Tony with a sigh. He had tried to get a word with Sharon all the evening but she would have nothing to do with him. ‘I suppose all the others have gone?’

  ‘Aye, I should think we were the last,’ agreed Andy.

  But they were not the last. As they came out into the passage Howard Gilbert came out of his dressing room. He looked searchingly at them.

  ‘Good night,’ he said curtly. He strode quickly to the stage door and went out.

  Tony looked after him, frowning.

  ‘There’s something queer about that chap,’ he said. ‘If there is somebody in this company who knows all about this business, I’ll lay odds it’s Gilbert.’

  9

  The clock on the mantelpiece chimed midnight.

  ‘He should be here by now,’ said Hargreaves.

  ‘It’s quite a journey,’ said Renton. He walked over to the side table and poured himself a drink.

  ‘I am looking forward to meeting your associate, Mr. Granger,’ remarked Simon Beatal. ‘I have a feeling that it will prove beneficial to our joint project, sir.’

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ grunted Renton.

  ‘It’s only your idea, Beatal,’ said Hargreaves, ‘that there’s been any jiggery-pokery by Granger. The packet he gave to Vera Lee may have been the genuine one.’

  ‘When we are sure of that, sir, we can direct our energies to discovering who took it from Miss Lee’s lodgings,’ replied Simon Beatal. ‘If my suggestion should turn out to be correct we should only be wasting our time chasing something that is completely valueless.’

  ‘I see your point,’ said Hargreaves, nodding.

  ‘Naturally, sir. I trust that you gave him no hint that you suspected anything?’ Hargreaves shook his head.

  ‘I only told him that the packet had been stolen,’ he said. ‘He sounded very upset and agitated over the telephone.’

  ‘That would obviously have to be his reaction, sir,’ said Simon Beatal.

  ‘He’ll be more agitated when he finds we’ve got you to share with now,’ said Renton. He poured himself out another drink.

  ‘It should make no difference to the total amount we share between us, sir.’ ‘How do you make that out? You’ve got to have an extra share,’ said Renton.

  ‘A share, sir — but not an extra one,’ said Simon Beatal. ‘Once the packet is in our possession, sir, there is no need why Mr. Granger should participate. A small honorarium, perhaps? He can do nothing about it, sir.’ He laughed jerkily. ‘The contents of the packet are no more legitimately his than — if I may say so — they are ours. You understand me, sir?’

  Hargreaves looked across at Renton. ‘Yes, I understand you,’ he said slowly. ‘I am a business man, sir,’ remarked Simon Beatal. He laughed again. ‘I believe in getting full value, sir — for other people’s money.’

  ‘Listen,’ said Renton suddenly.

  In the silence that followed they all heard the faint sound of an approaching car. ‘Granger,’ muttered Hargreaves.

  The sound of the car grew louder. It came nearer the house and stopped. There was a long pause and then there came a ring at the bell.

  Hargreaves left the room quickly. They heard him open the front door and the murmur of voices. Presently he returned accompanied by the man whom Vera had described to Anthony Wayne.

  ‘What’s all this about somebody stealing the packet?’ he demanded without preliminary. And then he saw Simon Beatal. ‘What’s he doing here?’

  ‘You are surprised, sir?’ said the fat man. ‘A natural emotion in the circumstances.’ Granger shot a suspicious glance at Hargreaves.

  ‘What’s the idea, Hargreaves?’ he asked.

  ‘Allow me to explain, sir,’ said Simon Beatal. ‘We have joined forces...’

  ‘You have, have you?’ Granger’s voice was cold and cutting. ‘Supposing I don’t agree, what then?’

  ‘Well,’ interrupted Renton. ‘What then, eh?’

  ‘You’ll see,’ snapped Granger. ‘I’m not standing for anybody else in on this...’

  ‘It doesn’t entirely rest with you,’ said Hargreaves smoothly.

  ‘What do you mean?’ retorted Granger angrily. ‘The whole thing originated with me, didn’t it?’

  ‘If you will forgive the correction, sir,’ put in Simon Beatal, ‘it originated with David Manners.’

  Granger swung round on him and his face darkened.

  ‘You keep out of this,’ he snarled. ‘I was forced to take Hargreaves and Renton in, but I don’t intend to have any dealings with you.’

  ‘Cut out all that,’ broke in Renton. ‘Let’s get down to brass tacks. Where’s the packet?’

  ‘That’s what I’d like to know,’ said

  Granger. ‘You tell me it was stolen from that girl’s lodgings?’

  Hargreaves nodd
ed.

  ‘Who stole it?’ demanded Granger.

  ‘That’s what we want to know,’ said Renton.

  ‘Well, you don’t have to look very far,’ retorted Granger. He jerked his head in the direction of Simon Beatal.

  ‘You are in error, sir,’ said the fat man suavely. ‘Should I have been so stupid as to join forces with Mr. Hargreaves and Mr. Renton if I already possessed the packet?’

  ‘There’s something very funny going on,’ grunted Granger.

  ‘That’s what we think, Granger,’ said Hargreaves. ‘Was that the real packet you sent down by the Lee girl, or was it another dummy — like the one you gave to Jill Manners?’

  ‘What the devil are you driving at?’ Granger glared at him.

  ‘The supposition is, sir,’ said Simon Beatal, ‘that the real packet is still in your possession.’

  ‘That’s a damned lie...’

  ‘It works out very well for you, doesn’t it?’ said Renton unpleasantly. ‘Two dummies to mislead everybody and you keep the real one.’

  ‘If I’d wanted to I could have kept it in the first place,’ retorted Granger.

  ‘Granted, sir,’ said Beatal. ‘But you may have thought that this way would absolve you from any suspicion that you might be trying to — er — swindle your associates.’ He laughed.

  ‘That cuts both ways, doesn’t it?’ said Granger. ‘How do I know that you’re not trying to swindle me?’

  ‘That’s nonsense,’ began Hargreaves impatiently but Granger cut him short.

  ‘It’s nothing of the sort,’ he snapped harshly. ‘Why shouldn’t you have faked up this story that the packet was stolen from the girl’s lodgings? Why should I believe that, any more than you believe me? One of you could have stolen it.’

  He turned his hard eyes on Simon Beatal.

  ‘Should we have taken the trouble to bring you all the way down here, if that was the case?’ said Hargreaves.

  ‘Yes — for the same reason you attributed to me,’ retorted Granger. ‘You all seem to have forgotten that somebody else knows about this business. Somebody who got wind of it in Canada after the plane crash.’

  ‘That I agree, sir, should be taken into consideration,’ said the fat man.

  ‘Then stop flinging your damned accusations at me,’ said Granger. ‘You’ve no right in this at all. You gate-crashed your way in and...’

  ‘Put a sock in it,’ broke in Renton rudely. ‘This isn’t getting us anywhere. You say that the packet you gave this woman Lee, to bring down here, was the genuine one?’

  ‘Of course it was...’

  ‘Well, then we’ve got to find it.’

  ‘That’s easier said than done,’ said Hargreaves. ‘We’ve no more idea than the man in the moon who took it from the girl’s rooms.’

  ‘If none of us are doing a double-cross, it must be this other person,’ said Granger.

  ‘We don’t know who he is,’ grunted Renton.

  ‘I suggest, sir, that we are not quite as ignorant of the person’s identity as you make out,’ interposed Simon Beatal.

  ‘Why — do you know who it is?’ demanded Hargreaves.

  Simon Beatal shook his head.

  ‘I do not, sir,’ he replied. ‘But I can suggest where you should look...’

  ‘Where?’ demanded Granger.

  ‘Among the members of the concert party, sir. The Crimson Ramblers,’ answered Simon Beatal.

  *

  At a table under a gaily striped awning on the front on the following morning, Billy, Sharon and Vera were having coffee. The sea, a shimmering blue in the hot sunshine, stretched away to a misty horizon and they could hear the sound of the lazy breakers as they broke on the beach.

  ‘Pity we’ve a matinee,’ said Billy. ‘I’d like to spend the whole day dozing on the beach.’

  ‘With one eye on the bathing beauties, I suppose?’ said Vera.

  ‘Of course, though I must say I haven’t seen anything very special up to now.’

  ‘Don’t give up hope, Billy,’ said Sharon.

  ‘I never give up hope, darling,’ grinned Billy.

  ‘You’re telling us,’ said Vera.

  ‘So far I’m very disappointed with Westpool,’ said Billy, shaking his head. ‘The girls with nice legs have got faces that would scare a seasoned commando and the ones with pretty faces are either knock-kneed or bandy!’

  ‘You can’t have everything,’ said Sharon, laughing.

  ‘Don’t you believe it,’ declared Billy with a twinkle in his eye. ‘I remember when I was in Hastings...’

  ‘We are not interested in your murky past,’ said Vera hastily.

  ‘There was nothing murky about her,’ said Billy. ‘What a smasher! Red hair — everything perfect. All the curves in the right places.’

  He kissed the tips of his fingers.

  ‘Did she fall for you?’ asked Sharon.

  ‘Fall,’ echoed Billy. ‘She power-dived! With all her jets at full pressure!’

  ‘How delightful!’ said Vera icily.

  Billy shot her a mischievous look.

  ‘It might have been,’ he continued sadly. ‘Only her husband was an all-in-wrestler at the fun fair.’ He sighed. ‘Loves young dream got a bit battered and bruised. I thought about her all the time I was in hospital!’

  ‘I don’t,’ said Sharon, ‘believe a word of it.’

  ‘I thought I was telling it rather well,’ said Billy.

  ‘Billy, you’re a beast,’ said Vera.

  ‘That’s what the night nurse called me,’ remarked Billy.

  ‘You’re incorrigible!’ she said angrily.

  The smile left his face. It became suddenly serious and there was something suspiciously like tears in his eyes.

  ‘My brother used to call me that,’ he said huskily.

  ‘I didn’t know you had a brother,’ said Vera.

  ‘I haven’t — now,’ he answered. ‘He’s dead. Poor old Jim. I was a bit of a handful to him...’ He got up abruptly. ‘Think I’ll go and have a swim. See you later.’

  He walked quickly away and they looked after him as he crossed the road and disappeared down the steps to the beach.

  ‘That’s the first time I’ve ever seen Billy really serious,’ said Sharon. ‘He was — rather upset, wasn’t he?’

  Vera nodded. Her usually hard expression was softer.

  ‘He must have been very fond of his brother,’ she said.

  Sharon nodded.

  ‘Funny he’s never mentioned him before,’ she said.

  *

  ‘You’re taking a risk, you know, coming here,’ said Howard Gilbert, frowning into the mirror over his dressing table.

  ‘I thought you’d want to know about Granger comin’ down at once,’ said Chives. ‘Couldn’t meet you this mornin’. I was with Beatal.’

  ‘If Beatal suspects that you’re working for me...’

  ‘Don’t worry — I’m careful,’ said

  Chives. ‘What do you think of Beatal joinin’ up with the other lot, eh?’

  ‘It makes it easier for us,’ said Gilbert.

  ‘They’re fools. They don’t know Beatal,’ said the little man. ‘’E’ll use ’em until ’e gets what he wants an’ then ’e’ll dish the lot.’

  ‘It might be the other way round...’

  ‘Not on your life.’ Chives shook his head.

  ‘Beatal’s just a great lump of coldblooded cunning. ’E’s got no conscience an’ no feelin’s. I’ve met a few tough ones in my time, but’e beats ’em all.’ He watched Gilbert select a stick of greasepaint and start to make up his face.

  ‘I can’t get used to you singin’ in a bloomin’ concert party,’ he remarked.

  Howard Gilbert smiled at his own reflection in the mirror. ‘I can’t get used to it myself,’ he said.

  10

  The red-haired girl in the black suit walked quickly down the side of the Dome Pavilion, came to the stage door and hesitated for a moment before turning the ha
ndle and entering. Inside the passage she stood still and looked along its length. There was no one about and she walked to Tony Wayne’s dressing room door and knocked.

  ‘Come in,’ he called and she entered.

  He saw her in the mirror and turned in surprise.

  ‘You!’ he exclaimed.

  ‘I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you,’ she began nervously.

  ‘You’re not, Miss Manners,’ he answered with a smile.

  ‘How did you know my name?’ she asked in surprise.

  ‘Never mind that,’ he said. ‘What did you want to see me about?’

  ‘I want to talk to you,’ she said,

  ‘privately. It’s — it’s rather urgent...’

  ‘We can’t talk privately here,’ said Tony. ‘Somebody’s always dashing in and out.’ ‘Oh... It’s really important,’ she said. ‘Can’t I meet you somewhere later on?’ he suggested. ‘The matinée is nearly over.’

  ‘Where?’ she said doubtfully. ‘All the places are so crowded.’

  ‘Come back here,’ he said. ‘If you come back at six everybody will have gone and we’ll have the place to ourselves.’

  ‘Yes — all right — I’ll do that,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll wait for you,’ said Tony.

  Andy came rushing in almost knocking into her as she was about to leave.

  ‘Have ye seen my nose?’ he demanded. ‘I must have left it...’

  ‘Over there.’ Tony pointed to a false nose on the dressing table. Andy picked it up.

  ‘Fine,’ he said and stopped as he saw the girl. Into his eyes came a startled look.

  ‘I’ll come back at six, Mr. Wayne,’ she said and went out.

  Andy stared after her;

  ‘That was the girl,’ he stammered. ‘That was the girl...’

  ‘I know,’ said Tony.

  ‘What did she want?’

  ‘She didn’t say. She’ll tell me when she comes back.’

  Andy carefully adjusted the false nose.

  ‘Ye remember what happened the last time she was coming back?’ he said seriously.

  ‘I shall be here this time, Andy,’ said Tony.

  ‘Somebody was here last time,’ said Andy. ‘Only she didna come. It was the other poor woman.’

  *

  Superintendent Halliday laid down the report he had been reading and looked up at Detective-Sergeant Soames.