"That was the sum I mentioned, sir."
Mike clicked his tongue.
"Now listen, Spink. Your comedy is good, and we all enjoy a little wholesome fun, but we mustn't waste time. Twenty was what you meant, wasn't it?"
"No, sir. Two hundred. Mr. Stanwood has frequently spoken of the large income which you make in the exercise of your profession in Hollywood, and I am sure you will feel that two hundred pounds is a small price to pay for the privilege of making an extended stay at the castle. Judging by the tone of your letter."
"I wouldn't harp too much on that letter. I might plug you in the eye."
"Very good, sir."
"Already I feel a strong urge in that direction."
"I am sorry to hear that, sir."
"Two hundred pounds!"
"I require the sum for a particular purpose, sir."
"I know."
"His lordship has confided in you, sir?"
"From soup to nuts. And that's another thing that gives me pause. Apart from the disagreeableness of having to cough up two hundred pounds, there is the Lord Shortlands angle. This is going to be tough on him. It will dish his hopes and dreams."
"Into each life some rain must fall."
"Eh?"
"I was merey wishing to indicate, sir, that you cannot make an omelette without breaking eggs."
"Is this time to talk of omelettes, Spink? You realize, of course, that you are a lop-eared blackmailer?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you don't shudder?"
"No, sir."
"Then there is no more to be said."
"You will find pen and ink on the writing table, sir."
Mike made his way slowly to the writing table, and took pen in hand.
"Well, it's a comfort to think that this sort of thing is bound to grow on you and that eventually you will get it in the neck," he said. "I can read your future like a book. Before long another opportunity of stinging some member of the general public will present itself, and you will be unable to resist it. And after that you will go on and on, sinking deeper and deeper into the mire of crime. The appetite grows by what it feeds on, Spink."
"Yes, sir."
"You don't feel like pulling up while there is yet time?"
"No, sir."
"Just as you say. Let us hurry on, then, to the melancholy end. You will, as I say, go on and on, blackmailing the populace like nobody's business, until one day you make that false step which they all make and—bingo!—into the dock for yours, with the judge saying 'Well, prisoner at the bar, it's been nice knowing you—' And then off to the cooler for an exemplary sentence. I shall come on visiting days and make faces at you through the bars."
"I shall be delighted to receive you, sir."
"You won't be when you see the faces. What's the date?"
"The twelfth of May, sir."
"And your first name?"
"Mervyn, sir."
"A sweet name."
"So my mother felt, sir."
"Can you think of your mother at a moment when you are gouging a stranger, scarcely an acquaintance, for two hundred of the best and brightest?"
"Yes, sir."
"Ponder well, Spink. She is looking down on you from heaven—"
"She lives in East Dulwich, sir."
"Well, from East Dulwich, then. It makes no difference to my argument. She is looking down on you from East Dulwich—"
"If you would kindly make the check open—"
"All right. Here you are."
"Thank you, sir."
"Yes, she is —"
Mike paused. Somebody had knocked on the door.
"Come in."
Lady Adela entered.
"I thought I would come and see if you were all right, Mr. Cobbold," said Lady Adela brightly. "Are you quite comfortable?"
"Very, thank you."
"I suppose you and Spink have been having a talk about old times? He tells me he used to be your father's butler. Did you find Mr. Cobbold just the same, Spink?"
There were things about Mervyn Spink which many people did not like, but he always gave value for money.
"Just the same, m'lady. The sight of him brought back many happy memories. Mr. Stanwood was always very kind to me during the period of my sojourn in the United States of America, m'lady."
From down the corridor came the plaintive note of a husband in distress.
Desborough Topping, hampered by lumbago, was experiencing a difficulty in tying his tie. Like a tigress hearing the cry of her cub, Lady Adela hurried from the room.
"Thank you, Spink," said Mike.
"Not all, sir."
"That handsome testimonial should fix me nicely."
"Yes, sir."
"I wish there was something I could do for you in return."
Mervyn Spink smiled benevolently.
"You have done something, sir."
"The check? You feel satisfied?"
"Entirely, sir."
"Well, that's fine, but you're easily pleased. That check's no good. You will have noted that it is signed 'Michael Cardinal,' which will cause the bank to sling it back at you like a bouncer ejecting a cash customer. For you were mistaken in supposing Michael to be my Christian name. It is Mycroft, like Sherlock Holmes's brother, and that is my official signature. You see what I mean?"
Mervyn Spink reeled. His clean-cut face twisted. If he had had a moustache, he would have looked like a baffled baronet.
"I'll go straight to her ladyship—"
"And tell her that you were mistaken in stating that I was the Stanwood Cobbold who was so kind to you during the period of your sojourn in the United States of America? I wouldn't. It would mean a good deal of tedious explaining. No, no, I think we may look on the incident as closed. This is a glad day for your mother, Spink. The son she loves has been saved from the perpetration of a crime at which her gentle spirit would have shuddered. If you ask me," said Mike, "my bet is that she'll go singing about East Dulwich."
12
Lord Shortlands was beginning to perk up.
For a father whose daughter treats him as a problem child, and is inclined at the slightest offense to stand him in the corner and stop his pocket money, it must always be a matter of extreme delicacy and danger to introduce into that daughter's home a changeling in place of the guest she is expecting to entertain, and during the early stages of Mike's stay at Beevor Castle the fifth earl, fully appreciating this, had run the gamut of the emotions.
At first fear had reigned supreme, causing him to start at sudden noises and to understand with a ghastly clarity what must have been the feelings of that Damocles of whom he had read in his school days. Then gradually hope had come stealing in, stiffening the jellied backbone. But it was only on the evening of the third day, as he sat in his study before dinner prodding the ribs of his dog Whiskers, happily cured of his recent indisposition, that he was able to view the position of affairs with any real confidence. It seemed to him that, as far as the great imposture was concerned, things had settled down nicely.
With regard to the activities of the viper Spink, he continued to feel apprehensive. So far, that snakelike man had been foiled, but he feared for the future. Butlers, he knew, though crushed to earth, will rise again, and he shuddered to think how nearly Mervyn Spink had triumphed already. If it had not been for the quick brainwork of his young friend Cardinal, he realized, this would have been a big week end for vipers.
Mike's description of his duel with Mervyn Spink had thrilled Lord Shortlands to the core. He had no words to express his admiration for the splendid qualities which this beardless youth had displayed in circumstances which might well have proved too much for a veteran strategist, and more and more did it seem to him inexplicable that his daughter Terry, wooed by such a suiter, should not scoop him in with a cry of joy and grapple him to her soul with hoops of steel.