Chapter 16
“Quick,” said Daisy, as the butler followed her cousins from the room, “what happened last night? I take it Tommy told you, Madge?”
“The birds had flown. They went upstairs and saw the hole in the roof, which I gather you made? Tommy was frightfully impressed.”
“A fat lot of good it did in the end. We’re back where we started, with no idea where Gloria is.”
“Oh no, darling,” said Lucy, “your disappearance persuaded Mr. Arbuckle to confide in your pet copper, and we have a suspect.”
Madge nodded. “Phillip told Tommy Mr. Fletcher suspects Mr. Arbuckle’s chauffeur.”
“Chauffeur?” Daisy asked eagerly. “You mean Crawford, his engineer? I thought there was something fishy about him, but I’ve never met him. I have no sense of his character.”
“Phillip doesn’t like him, I gather,” Lucy informed her.
“Phillip’s no judge of character. But he takes people at face value, and tends to like them, all things being equal, so if he dislikes Crawford there must be a reason.
And if Alec thinks there’s good reason to suspect him, we must follow him, in case he contacts.
…” She stopped as Lowecroft showed Arbuckle in.
The American’s face brightened as he caught sight of Daisy. Only greetings and offers of breakfast could be voiced until the butler left again, but the moment the door shut, Daisy jumped up and demanded, “Where is Crawford?”
“My dear Miss Dalrymple!” Arbuckle took her hands in his. “I’m mighty happy to see you safe. I was…”
“Thanks, but never mind that. Is it true Alec—Mr. Fletcher—suspects your Mr. Crawford? Someone must follow him!”
“Jeez, of course. He’s supposed to go to Oxford today, to Morris’s factory. Cowley, that is. I guess it’s a little town near Oxford.”
“Had he left the hotel when you did?”
“No, he hadn’t come down yet. He’s nearly finished up over at Morris’s, figures a few more hours is all he needs to give me a recommendation.”
“We’ll go,” announced Madge, “Tommy and I. There’s not much I can do to help, but I can sit in the car and keep an eye out for Crawford while Tommy drives. I’ll go and get him up, poor dear. They didn’t get in till after three.”
She dashed out. Lucy poured a cup of coffee for Arbuckle, and Daisy asked him what Alec had concluded about Crawford. He explained, reiterating—though without much conviction, Daisy thought—his belief in his employee’s innocence.
Arbuckle was eager to hear why Daisy had gone missing yesterday evening.
She did not want to tell him about seeing Gloria until Alec was there to describe the abortive midnight raid on the witch’s cottage.
He came in sooner than she expected, remarkably alert after so little sleep, if a bit bristly about the chin.
She had never seen him in flannels and a tweed jacket before, since he had always been on duty and thus formally dressed when they met in the country. He looked simply spiffing—or would when he’d had time to shave. Mother would never be able to guess he was a policeman if she wasn’t told.
With an apologetic glance at her and Lucy, he stroked his chin. “Your pardon, ladies. I didn’t want to keep Mr. Arbuckle waiting. You’ve heard about last night, sir?”
“No, sir, I have not,” Arbuckle said anxiously. “I was just asking.”
Daisy and Alec between them were breaking the news of her capture and escape and Gloria’s new disappearance when Madge and Tommy arrived.
“I gather we’re off”—Tommy yawned enormously—“Sorry … to Oxford?”
Alec looked at Daisy, his dark, thick eyebrows raised, obviously jumping to the instant conclusion that this was her doing.
“To follow Crawford,” she explained.
“Good thought!”
“Cowley, not Oxford. Mr. Arbuckle, what car does he drive?” Daisy asked, delighted by Alec’s approval.
“He has a maroon A.C. Six.”
“Right-oh.” Taking off his glasses, Tommy blinked at the lenses, then took out his handkerchief to polish them.
“We’ll try to pick him up in Great Malvern.
If the A.C. isn’t parked at the hotel, we’ll just tootle off towards Oxford, hoping to spot it on the way.
And failing that, we’ll look around for it in Cowley. ”
“The Morris motor-car works,” said Arbuckle, “that’s where he’s supposed to be.”
“Do you happen to know which route he generally takes?” Tommy asked. Arbuckle shook his head. “Never mind. If we miss him, we’ll do Cheltenham and the A40. It’s fastest.”
“If you’re stopped for exceeding the speed limit, I’ll pay the fine,” Arbuckle assured him.
“Telephone from Cowley,” Alec put in, “whether you find him or not.”
“Right-oh. Thanks, darling,” he said to Madge as she presented him with a large roll, hastily buttered and stuffed with bacon. “We’ll buzz off, then. Toodle-oo.”
As they left, Daisy followed her example and went to the sideboard to fill a plate for Alec. On the way, she said to him, “The men will be bound to contact Crawford after last night, don’t you think? And he’ll want to see where they’ve taken Gloria.”
“It seems likely, always assuming he’s our man—and we have no better prospects. Mr. Arbuckle, where else has your business taken Crawford?”
“Since we came to Malvern, to Austin’s at Longbridge, Sunbeam in Wolverhampton, and a whole bunch of factories in Coventry: Swift, Lea & Francis, Hotchkiss, Humber, Daimler, and Hillman, I think. I guess that’s the centre of your auto business, like Detroit.”
Alec groaned. “So he might have found a place anywhere in the central Midlands, or on the way there, as an alternative hiding place.”
“He wouldn’t want them to be too far away,” Daisy argued, setting a heaped plate before Alec, “or he would have chosen somewhere farther away for the first hidey-hole. He must need to be within reasonably easy reach of both them and Mr. Arbuckle. And he can’t move his own base from Malvern without arousing suspicion. ”
“Not that it helps how close they are,” Lucy pointed out. “Wherever it is, we’ll never find it unless he leads us to it. So your brain-wave about following him was a work of absolute genius, darling.”
Daisy tried to look modest.
Alec grinned at her, swallowed a mouthful of scrambled egg, then turned to Arbuckle to ask what he had told Crawford about the kidnapping.
“Mighty little, as little as I could get away with, just because I figured the less anyone knew the better. I couldn’t keep the kidnapping secret, what with Gloria vanishing without notice and me having the willies, and him getting dumped.
Like I told Petrie, he was real mad at being left to walk home.
He acted mad enough to fool me, at any rate.
He asked was I going to contact the police and I told him no sirree. ”
“Do you recall his response?”
“He approved.”
“Did he!” Alec exclaimed.
“No big deal,” Arbuckle insisted. “He thought I was right for Gloria’s sake, and he advised me not to mention it to anyone at all because things have a way of getting out.”
“True enough. Did you follow his advice? You didn’t tell him Petrie had turned up again, or about his friends searching for your daughter?”
“Not a word.”
“Good. Anything else?”
“Lessee.” Arbuckle pondered, then said in dismay, “Rats, yes, I almost forgot. He offered to deliver the ransom for me. If you’re right, Mr. Fletcher, that would be handing it to him on a plate!”
“Did you agree?”
“Nah. I said if anyone but me turned up with the dough, it could mess things up but good. I told him to go on same as usual, like nothing had happened, so’s not to make anyone nervous.”
“How did he react to that? Did he seem relieved?”
“Not so I noticed. Why?”
“Oh, you might have wanted him to stick close to you, which would have cramped his style. As it is, he’s been free to meet his henchmen whenever he wants. He knows you’re off to town today to fetch the ransom?”
“I mentioned a coupla days ago I’d have it by today.”
“All right. Just one thing more, unless you have any questions, Daisy? Miss Fotheringay?”
“Yes,” said Daisy. “Mr. Arbuckle, I realize it goes against the grain to think a trusted employee might have turned on you like this. But it’s better than if it was someone out for revenge, isn’t it?
I mean, at least Gloria’s safe? You haven’t actually done anything to make Crawford hate you, whatever he may fear for the future. ”
“I have not, Miss Dalrymple, not consciously,” Arbuckle said heavily, “though, like Mr. Fletcher said, it maybe sticks in his craw that I’ve made more from his know-how than he can ever hope to.
But—and believe me, I lay awake half the night thinking about this—if I’m right that he’s carrying a torch for my girl, and he knows she prefers young Petrie, waal, that opens up a whole new can of worms.”
Even as she wrinkled her nose at the graphic idiom, Daisy acknowledged the validity of his fears. The rejected lover, the mutation of love into hate, had been the basis of uncountable tales of rape, murder, and mayhem throughout the ages.
Lucy had lost her usual blasé expression, and Alec’s grave face showed his concurrence.
“I’m afraid you’re right,” he said, “which may make you look more kindly on my last point. I most strongly advise calling in the local force and setting up a proper search for Miss Arbuckle.”
Arbuckle stood up, impressive despite his lack of inches as he leaned forward with both fists planted on the table.
“Nope,” he said inflexibly. “I don’t believe they’d find her, and it just might be what sends the guy over the edge.
I can’t risk it.” He held up one hand as Alec opened his mouth to argue.
“You tell ’em and I’ll deny it. I’ll say Gloria’s gone back to the States.
No, sir, we have to play it his way, whether it’s Crawford or some other bastard. I’m going to fetch the ransom.”
His resolute march towards the door turned to a tired trudge before he reached it, but he left, nevertheless.