The Golden Ball and Other Stories Read online

  46

  Agatha Christie

  told me over the phone that he was sending Gerald along

  with the car. It's awfully sporting of you to come. I've been

  dying to meet you. Remember I haven't seen you since I

  was six years old. I see you've got the necklace all right.

  Shove it in your pocket again. The village policeman might

  come along and see it. Brrr, it's cold as ice waiting here!

  Let me get in."

  As though in a dream Edward opened the door, and she

  sprang lightly in beside him. Her furs swept his cheek, and

  an elusive scent, like that of violets after rain, assailed his

  nostrils.

  He had no plan, no definite thought even. In a minute,

  without conscious volition, he had yielded himself to the

  adventure. She had called him Edward--what matter if he

  were the wrong Edward? She would find him out soon

  enough. In the meantime, let the game go on. He let in the

  clutch and they glided off.

  Presently the girl laughed. Her laugh was just as wonderful

  as the rest of her.

  "It's easy to see you don't know much about cars. I

  suppose they don't have them out there?"

  "I wonder where 'out there' is?" thought Edward. Aloud

  he said, "Not much."

  "Better let me drive," said the girl. "It's tricky work

  finding your way round these lanes until we get on the main

  road again."

  He relinquished his place to her gladly. Presently they

  were humming through the night at a pace and with a recklessness

  that secretly appalled Edward. She turned her head

  towards him. "I

  like pace. Do you? You know--you're not a bit like

  Gerald. No one would ever take you to be brothers. You're

  not a bit like what I imagined, either."

  "I suppose," said Edward, "that I'm so completely ordinary.

  Is that it?"

  "Not ordinary--different. I can't make you out. How's

  poor old Jimmy? Very fed-up, I suppose?"

  "Oh, $immy's all right," said Edward.

  "It's easy enough to say that--but it's rough luck on

  him having a sprained ankle. Did he tell you the whole

  story?"

  T£ M,NOOD OF ZWaD aOBSON' 47

  "Not a word. I'm completely in c k. I ish you'd

  enlighten me."

  "Oh, the thing worked like a dream. Jimmy went in at

  e ?om dr, togged up in his girl's clothes.

  ;

  a mmu? or two, d en skied up to the wind,"7''

  Lella s maid was the lavin out Aones',, ' · g

  els, d all the rest. en there was a great yell qownsffs,

  d e squib went off, d eveone shoumd fire. e maid

  dhed out, and I hoped in, hel myself to th% necace,

  d was out d down in a flash, d out of th nlace e

  back .way across the nch Bowl. I shoved e ecace

  d the notice whe to pick me up in the ke{ of the c

  in passing. en I joined uise at the hotel, having shed

  my snow , of course. Perfect alibi for me She'd no

  idea I'd been out at all." '

  "And what aut Jimmy?"

  "Well, you ow more aut that an I do.',

  "Well, in the general rag, he caught his ft in his s

  d managed to sprain it. ey had to c him to the c,

  d e Lellas' chauffeur drove him home. Jhst fancy if

  · e chauffeur had hapn to put his hd in te pket"

  wd laughed with her, but his mind wa busy. He

  underst the sifion mo or less now. The name of

  Llla was vaguely fili to himit was a name that

  slt wealth. This girl, d unown m calted Jimmy,

  had conspired together to steal e necklace, d had succeeded.

  Owing to his sprained kle d e gresence of

  the Lallas' chauffeur, Jimmy had not en ale to look

  in the ket of the cfo telephoning to the girl

  probably had had no wish to do so. But it was almost ceain

  · at the other unknown "Gerald" would do so at any ely

  opnunity. And in it, he would find wd' muffier

  "Go going," said the girl.

  A flashed past them, they were on the utskins of

  ndon. %ey flashed in d out of the traffic, Edwd's

  he stud in his mouth. She was a wondel river, this

  girl, but she tk fisks

  Queer of an hour later they drew up fore aa imsing

  house in a frigid square.

  "We can shed some of our cloing he," Sd t girl,

  "fore we go on to Ritson's."

  Agatha Christie

  "Ritson's?' queried Edward. He mentioned the famous ghtclub almost reverently.

  "Yes, didn't Gerald tell you?"

  "He did not," said Edward grimly. "What about my

  )thes?"

  She frowned.

  "Didn't they tell you anything? We'll rig you up some-

  ,w. We've got to carry this through."

  A stately butler opened the door and stood aside to let

  m enter.

  "Mr. Gerald Champneys rang up, your ladyship. He was ry anxious to speak to you, but he wouldn't leave a mes-ge."

  "I bet he was anxious to speak to her," said Edward to aself. "At any rate, I know my full name now. Edward

  ampneys. But who is she? Your ladyship, they called

  r. What does she want to steal a necklace for? Bridge

  bts?"

  In the magazine stories which he occasionally read, the autiful and titled heroine was always driven desperate by

  [dge debts.

  Edward was led away by the stately butler and delivered er to a smooth-mannered valet. A quarter of an hour later

  rejoined his hostess in the hall, exquisitely attired in

  ening clothes made in Savile Row which fitted him to a

  ety.

  Heavens! What a night!

  They drove in the car to the famous Ritson's. It common th everyone else, Edward had read scandalous paragraphs

  aceming Ritson's. Anyone who was anyone turned up at

  tson's sooner or later. Edward's only fear was that some-e

  who knew the real Edward Cbampneys might turn up.

  , consoled himself by the reflection that the real man had

  idently been out of England for some years.

  Sitting at a little table against the wall, they sipped cock-Is. Cocktails! To the simple Edward they represented the

  intessence of the fast life. The girl, wrapped in a won-rful

  embroidered shawl, sipped nonchalantly. Suddenly

  dropped the shawl from her shoulders and rose.

  "Let's dance."

  Now the one thing that Edward could do to perfection

  THE MANHOOD OF EDWARD ROBINSON

  was to dance. When he and Maud took the floor together at the Palais de Danse, lesser lights stood still and watched

  in admiration.

  "I nearly forgot," said the girl suddenly. "The necklace?"

  She held out her hand. Edward, completely bewildered,

  drew it from his pocket and gave it to her. To his utter

  amazement, she coolly clasped it round her neck. Then she

  smiled up at him intoxicatingly.

  "Now," she said softly, "we'll dance."

  They danced. And in all Ritson's nothing more perfect

  could be seen.

  Then, as at length they returned to their table, an old

  gentleman with a would-be rakish air accosted Edward's

  companion.

  "Ah! Lady Noreen, always dancing! Yes, yes. Is Captain

  Folliot here tonight?"

  "Jimmy's taken a toss--racked his ankle."

 
"You don't say so? How did that happen?"

  "No details as yet."

  She laughed and passed on.

  Edward followed, his brain in a whirl. He knew now.

  Lady Noreen Elliot, the famous Lady Noreen herself, perhaps

  the most talked-of girl in England. Celebrated for her

  beauty, for her daring--the leader of that set known as the

  Bright Young People. Her engagement to Captain James

  Folliot, V.C., of the Household Cavalry, had been recently

  announced.

  But the necklace? He still couldn't understand the necklace.

  He must risk giving himself away, but know he must.

  As they sat down again, he pointed to it.

  "Why that, Noreen?" he said. "Tell me why?"

  She smiled dreamily, her eyes far away, the spell of the

  dance still holding her.

  "It's difficult for you to understand, I suppose. One gets

  so tired to the same thing--always the same thing. Treasure

  hunts were all very well for a while, but one gets used to

  everything. 'Burglaries' were my idea. Fifty pounds' entrance

  fee, and lots to be drawn. This is the third. Jimmy

  and I drew Agnes Larella. You know the rules? Burglary

  to be carried out within three days and the loot to be worn

  for at least an hour in a public place, or you forfeit your

  50 Aga[tha Christie

  :tprakannishUannkleePu?nsd,fine. It's rough luck on Jim, my

  ,,l coo" i,,4 ..... , 'Xwe 11 scoop the pool all rieht'

  ....... r ,

  .

  ·

  see.

  "Drive

  me somewh

  e pulhng her shawl round

  her.

  Somewhere horrible

  and in .th.e c. D. own .to the d, ks.

  - -4 exciting wait a minute

  -- She

  reacnea up anu

  unctaspe . - ,.'

  ,

  .

  "You'd better take these al-el .the. u,an?,.onas iro,m tier neck.

  ,. cgaln.

  uon t want to oe murdered

  They

  went out of Rits,

  , .

  .

  ........ ,on s together. ne car

  stood in a

  small dy-street,

  mm0w a, .......

  towards it, another car d

  °OarK..as.mey to,

  mea [he corner

  man sprang out. -ew

  up to the cum, anti

  a

  young

  "Thank the Lord, Nor ,,

  he cried. "There's the dex

  .e,n' t ye g hula o.. you at last,

  with

  the wrong car; God ,

  1 to pay; na.t, ass Jl,.mmy got off

  ......... acnows wnere muse aamonds are

  at this mnute,

  we

  re in

  1: , . ....

  Lady Noreen

  stared

  at n,e. aevu ut a mess.

  "What do you mean9

  ,nl,m. .

  Edward has." ' 'ye we got the diamonas

  at least

  "Edward?"

  "Yes." She might a Slight gesture to indicate

  the figure

  by her side.

  It s I o am in the

  q

  .....

  "Ten to one this is

  brothel o,a, ,m, ess,

  thought Edward.

  The young man staredr

  Jerala.

  "What do you mean?" kat h!,m., ,

  land." '

  e

  sam s

  owly. "Edward's in Scot-

  Her colour

  came and ne stareu at r-,uwam. n!

  "So

  you," she said

  in ye, nt. . ,,

  It took

  Edward just o lOW. voice, are roe. rem

  thing?

  -- .

  ne minute to grasp the situation.

  play up to

  the end. ulan.

  Nothing so tame. He

  would

  He bowed cerem0niotl., "I have to thank

  you,

  }a Y/

  ...........

  hioh uavman

  mannn, ,,i: aay

  r oreen,

  ne

  sala

  In

  the

  oest

  ....

  '

  ' . t

  at

  the

  car

  from

  which

  th '

  other

  nau

  just

  angmeo.

  Pt

  scarl

  w'

  "'

  '

  t

  car

  lth

  a

  snlmng

  nonnet

  His

  Car.

  ·

  THE MANHOOD OF EDWARD ROBINSON

  .. l

  "And I will wish you good evening."

  One quick spring and he was inside, his foot on the

  clutch. The car s forward. Gerald stood paralyzed, but

  the girl was quicker. As the car slid past, she leapt for it,

  alighting on the running board.

  The car swerved, shot blindly round the corner and pulled

  up. Noreen, still panting from her spring, laid her hand on

  Edward's arm.

  "You must give it me--oh, you must give it me. I've

  got to return it to Agnes Larella. Be a sport--we've had a

  good evening together--we've danced--we've been-pals.

  Won't you give it to me? To me?"

  A woman who intoxicated you with her beauty. There

  were such women then...

  Also, Edward was only too anxious to get rid of the

  necklace. It was a heaven-sent oppommity for a beau geste.

  He took it from his pocket and dropped it into her outstretched

  hand.

  "We've been--pals," he said.

  "Ah!" Her eyes smouldered--lit up.

  Then surprisingly she bent her head to him. For a moment

  he held her, her lips against his...

  Then she jumped off. The scarlet car sPed forward with

  a great leap.

  Romance!

  Adventure!

  At twelve o'clock on Christmas Day, Edward Robinson

  strode into the tiny drawing room of a house in Clapham,

  with the customary greeting of "Merry Christmas."

  Maud, who was rearranging a piece of holly, greeted

  him coldly.

  "Have a good day in the country with that friend of

  yours?" she inquired.

  "Look here," said Edward. "That was a lie I told you. I

  won a competition--f.500, and I bought a car with it. I

  didn't tell you because I knew you'd kick up a row about

  it. That's the gu'st thing. I've bought the car and there's

  nothing more to be said about it. The second thing is this--I'm

  not going to hang about for years. My prospects are

  52

  Agatha Christie

  quite good enough and I meafi to marry you next month. · See?"

  "Oh!" Said Maud faintly.

  Was this--could this be--Edward speaking in this masterful fashion?

  "Will you?" said Edward. "Yes or no?"

  She gazed at him, fascinated. There was awe and admiration in her eyes, and the sight of that look was intoxicating

  to Edward. Gone was that patient motherliness which

  had roused him to exasperation.

  So had the Lady Noreen looked at him last night. But the Lady Noreen had receded far away, right into the region

  of Romance, si
de by side with the Marchesa Bianca. This

  was the Real Thing. This was his woman.

  "Yes or no?" he repeated, and drew a step nearer.

  "Ye--ye-es," faltered Maud. "But, oh, Edward, what has happened to you? You're quite different today."

  "Yes," said Edward. "For twenty-four hours I've been a man instead of a worm--and, by God, it pays!"

  He caught her in his arms almost as Bill the superman might have done.

  "Do you love me, Maud? Tell me, do you love me?" "Oh, Edward!" breathed Maud. "I adore you .... "

  Jane in Search of a Job

  Jane Cleveland rustled the pages of the Daily Leader and sighed--a deep sigh that came from the innermost recesses

  of her being. She looked with distaste at the marble-topped

  table, the poached egg on toast which reposed on it, and

  the small pot of tea. Not because she was not hungry. That

  was far from being the case. Jane was extremely hungry.

  At that moment she felt like consuming a pound and a half

  of well-cooked beefsteak, with chip potatoes, and possibly

  French beans. The whole washed down with some more

  exciting vintage than tea.

  But young women whose exchequers are in a parlous condition cannot be choosers. Jane was lucky to be able to

  order a poached egg and a pot oftea. It seemed unlikely

  that she would be able to do so tomorrow. That is unless--

  She turned once more to the advertisement columns of the Daily Leader. To put it plainly, Jane was out of a job,

  and the position was becoming acute. Already the genteel

  lady who presided over the shabby boarding house was

  looking askance at this particular young woman.

  "And yet," said Jane to herself, throwing up her chin indignantly, which was a habit of hers, "and yet I'm intelligent

  and good-looking and well-educated. What more does

  anyone want?"

  According to the Daily Leader, they seemed to want shorthand-typists of vast experience, managers for business

  houses with a little capital to invest, ladies to share in the

  profits of poultry fanning (here again a little capital was

  required), and innumerable cooks, housemaids and par-lourmaids

  -- particularly parlourmaids.

  "I wouldn't mind being a parlourmaid," said Jane to