Chapter 19
“Mr. Arbuckle, my lady.” The butler’s air of long-suffering suggested he was becoming accustomed, if not resigned, to the American’s habit of arriving at hours when no real gentleman would call uninvited.
“Show him in, Lowecroft,” said Geraldine, equally long-suffering.
“Edgar, we shall go up and dress for dinner. The rest of you.…” She paused, and sighed.
“The rest of you and Mr. Petrie and Miss Fotheringay, should they condescend to return, will no doubt forgo that nicety if pressed for time. Daisy, you had better invite Mr. Arbuckle to dine with us.”
“Thank you, Geraldine. You see, he’s…”
Geraldine held up her hand. “No, I don’t wish to know.”
Edgar looked rather wistful, as if he wouldn’t have minded a little elucidation, but he followed his wife from the drawingroom, only pausing to greet Arbuckle as he came in.
“It’s sure swell of your folks, Miss Dalrymple, not to shoot off their mouths about all this to-ing and fro-ing,” Arbuckle said.
Waving a sheet of blue notepaper, he advanced on Alec.
“Mr. Fletcher, I’ve gotten the instructions for dropping off the dough.
I found this in my suite at the hotel when I got back from Lunnon. ”
Alec took it. “Plain Basildon Bond, like the others, but this one is in ordinary handwriting, rather shaky.”
“Gloria’s,” said Arbuckle heavily, dropping into a chair. “At least she’s still alive.”
Daisy, beside Alec on the sofa, craned her neck to read over his shoulder.
“Do tell,” Madge begged.
“It’s directions to a quarry in the Cotswold Hills,” said Arbuckle. “I’m to go alone, at sunset, and leave the dough in the back of a van I’ll find parked there.”
“And then they’ll let Miss Arbuckle go?” Tommy asked hopefully.
“It’s more complicated than that.” Alec frowned. “Mr. Arbuckle is instructed to go away as soon as he’s dropped the money, then return at dawn to pick up directions explaining where to find his daughter. I don’t like it.”
“If I do anything different, I’ll never see Gloria again.”
“She says they’ll be watching him,” Daisy put in.
Restlessly on edge, Arbuckle stood up again. “So things have got to go their way. I’m doing what I’m told tonight, and I better get back to the hotel so if they’re watching they see me leave from there.”
“Won’t you stay for dinner? My cousin asked me to invite you.”
He shook his head. “Please tell her ladyship I’d be tickled to death some other time, Miss Dalrymple, but I’m not fit for company right now, even if I could spare the time. Mr. Fletcher, I sure hope I can trust you not to call out the troopers.”
“Much as I’d like to, it’s far too late to organize a police presence.”
“And you won’t none of you go near this here quarry.” Arbuckle glanced around. “Hey, where’s young Petrie?”
Bincombe, silent so far, opened his mouth.
Alec gave him a warning look. “Petrie and Miss Fotheringay went to keep an eye on Crawford. Since they haven’t telephoned, we assume they haven’t seen anything significant.”
“At this point, it don’t matter a hoot if it’s Crawford or some hoodlum. There’s damn-all to do but follow instructions.”
“All the same,” said Alec, “you’ll telephone if they change your instructions, won’t you? Or if you think of anything we can do to help?”
“Surely.” Arbuckle took back the letter and shook Alec’s hand. “Don’t think I don’t appreciate the support you folks been giving me.”
Daisy jumped up and gave him an impulsive hug. “Gloria will be all right,” she said. “This is England, not America.”
He gave her a weary smile. Alec walked with him to the door and closed it behind him.
“I say, Fletcher, what about Lucy?” Binkie burst out at once. “It’s all very well agreeing with Arbuckle, but they’ve been gone since before lunch. Are we just going to sit on our hands?”
“Steady, old man,” Tommy soothed. “No sense getting the poor chap upset about Lucy as well as his daughter, don’t y’know. And if I’m not mistaken, Fletcher’s one step ahead of us.”
“I wish I were,” Alec said ruefully. “There really isn’t much we can do without more information. I don’t imagine you know that bit of country, Daisy. It’s rather far from here.”
“I don’t know the quarry,” Daisy admitted unhappily.
She had brought her friends into this thoroughly nasty business by claiming her knowledge of the countryside would help.
A fat lot of use it had been so far. “We used to cycle that way sometimes, but it’s on the outer edge of our range.
Oh, blast, I should have copied down the directions. I can’t remember them properly.”
Alec promptly recited them.
“Map,” said Binkie, and disappeared.
He returned a few moments later and they were all poring over a map of the north Cotswolds when Lucy sauntered in.
“Don’t let me interrupt,” she drawled.
Binkie bounded to her and engulfed her in a hug which made her squeak. “Where have you been?” he demanded.
“Let me breathe, darling, and I’ll tell you.” Released—though Binkie kept her hand in his—she joined the others and gazed down at the map. “The Cotswolds? You already know?”
“Only where Mr. Arbuckle’s to take the money,” said Daisy. “Lucy, where’s Phillip?”
“All in good time, darling. Now let me see. No, it’s no good. I never could read a map. Phillip swore you’d remember the place, Daisy: Brockbarrow Hill.”
“Brockberrow.”
“Here,” said Tommy, planting a forefinger on the map. “It’s right next to the slate-pit I’m sure must be the quarry.”
“At least half a mile,” Lucy protested, subsiding with languid grace onto the nearest chair and kicking off bespattered shoes. “More to the top. Daisy, I’m simply ravenous. You’re none of you dressed. Is dinner going to be late?”
“No. Lucy, for pity’s sake, what’s this about Brockberrow Hill? Did Phillip go there? Without you?”
“Let’s hear the story, please, Lucy,” Alec seconded Daisy with a smile. “If you’ve brought the information we need, time is of the essence.”
Lucy grinned at him. “Oh, very well, Chief Inspector, though I was rather enjoying keeping you all in suspense. What it boils down to is that we followed Crawford from Cowley to Brockberrow Hill and Phillip found the kidnappers in some sort of ancient fort at the top.”
“And Miss Arbuckle?” Alec asked sharply.
“He didn’t see her, but from the way they talked, he was sure she was there.”
“She’d be in the shepherd’s hut,” Daisy said.
“That’s right.” Lucy waved the magazine she had brought in with her. Opening it, she said in dismay, “Oh gosh, it’s frightfully smeared. I hope you remember the place well enough to make sense of this, Daisy.”
“Let’s see.”
Both pages were a mess of lipstick, but between Daisy’s memory and Lucy’s and what they could make out, Daisy reconstructed Phillip’s diagram.
“This is the fort itself,” she pointed out to the others as they clustered around. “All that’s left is a high bank, of course.”
“How high?” Tommy wanted to know.
“Gosh, I don’t know. You couldn’t see out from the inside, only sky, but then it’s the highest point for quite a way.”
“Could you see the roof of the hut from outside?” Alec asked.
“N-no, I don’t think so. No, I’m sure the bank’s higher than the hut, so it’s much higher than a man. Perhaps ten feet?” she hazarded. “Twelve? Fourteen?”
“Good enough. How steep?”
“Steep enough to persuade one to go round and through the gateway—here—after bicycling from here and tramping up the hill. But we used to climb it after the picnic, for the view.”
“Phillip must have climbed it,” Lucy said, “because he saw inside the circle and I hardly imagine he’d have trotted through the gap like a lamb to the slaughter.”
“You didn’t go up with him?”
“You’re joking, Alec. In those shoes? No, he came down to tell me what he’d found and overheard, then went back to keep an eye on Gloria.”
Alec groaned. “Understandable, I suppose.”
“I tried to stop him. He did promise not to try any solo attempt to rescue her unless she was in immediate danger.”
“Which means, I take it,” said Madge, “he expects a mass rescue attempt.”
Tommy nodded. “If we don’t go, goodness only knows what he’ll do.”
“He heard them threaten to harm Gloria even if the ransom’s delivered as instructed.”
In shocked silence, everyone turned from Lucy to Alec.
“We’ll go,” he said crisply. “I said I don’t like this business of Arbuckle having to return to the quarry at dawn to get directions for finding his daughter. I meant it, and now we know Crawford’s our man and that threats have been made, I like it still less. Lucy, what else did Petrie overhear?”
“He didn’t tell me much. He saw three men besides Crawford, but he thought there were probably at least four. More than one man will go to pick up the ransom, because they don’t trust each other. It’s to be delivered tonight, but I gather you know that.”
“At the quarry at sunset,” Alec confirmed. “When does the sun set?”
“Nine thirtyish,” Tommy said, “with Summer Time.”
They all looked at the clock. Quarter to eight.
“It’ll take an hour to get there,” Lucy said uneasily.
“Maybe more if this rain gets any worse. The lane’s in a frightful condition, and then there’s the hill to climb.
Phillip said there’s probably a man watching the track, so you’d have to go round.
That’s assuming you’re heading for the hilltop, not the quarry. ”
Alec thought for a moment. “If they have hidden men watching the drop-off, it’s too risky to try to grab Crawford there, besides leaving Miss Arbuckle in danger from the others.”
“Start from this side of the hill,” Daisy advised. “Take the path from Brock Farm. That’s the way we always used to go. It could cut off ten or fifteen minutes.”
“All right, Daisy,” said Alec, “I’ll take your word for it. You can explain later. First, does Morgan live in at the Dower House?”
“Yes. I’ll go and telephone. Do you want Truscott, too? If he’s not up here I can get him on the extension to the lodge.”
“Please. Pearson, find that young footman, Ernest.”