Джорджетт Хейер - Penhallow

“Damn you!” Bart said, massaging his arm. “It’s just like you to learn a lot of filthy. Japanese tricks! I’m going down to organise a search-party!”

“Isn’t that touching?” Aubrey said, addressing the room at large, as Bart walked out. “Shall we get up a sweepstake on what has happened to Ray?”

“Come to think of it, it is queer,” remarked Clara, looking rather worried. “What can have possessed him to go settin’ his horse loose? I don’t see any sense in it. Unless he’s trainin’ him for somethin’.”

“Training him for what, darling Clara? A circus?”

“No, he wouldn’t do that,” Clara said decidedly.

“I wonder if Aubrey’s right?” put in Clay. “I mean, do you think he can possibly have got the wind up, and made off somewhere?”

“Do, for heaven’s sake, learn to recognise a joke when you hear one!” begged Eugene wearily.

“Well, it’s all very well, but I don’t see —”

“Hush!” said Aubrey. “Can’t you see that your brothers are sick and tired of the sound of your voice, child?”

Clay said angrily: “Considering I’ve only made one remark during the past twenty minutes, I call that rich! You seem to think...”

“One remark in twenty minutes is all we have patience to bear,” said Aubrey firmly.

Clay got up, scraping his chair aggressively. “This place was bad enough before you came home, but it’s absolutely bloody now!” he said, and stalked out of the room.

“Well, that’s got rid of him,” said Aubrey, sinking into the most comfortable chair he could find.

“You shouldn’t tease the boy,” Clara said, shaking her head. “I daresay he won’t be here much longer.”

“That is a very lovely thought, Clara love, and practically the only one that at all sustains me during this trying time.”

“I think I’ll step round to the stables, and see what’s happenin’,” Clara decided, in her inconsequent way.

“The more I think of it the less I like the sound of it.”

Vivian, who had all the time been silent, watched her trail out of the room, and then glanced at Aubrey. “Did you mean that? Do you really think it’s got something to do with the police finding Jimmy? Could he have runaway?”

“My pet, don’t you think he would have taken his car if he had been running away?” suggested Eugene, tweaking her ear.

“Yes, I suppose he would,” she agreed, with a short sigh.

Clifford came back into the room just then, and announced that since there did not seem to be anything he could do, he thought he would be getting back to Liskeard. He wanted to know where his mother was, and when he heard what had taken her down to the stables, he looked rather startled, and said that he hoped to God nothing had happened to Raymond. “Perhaps I’d better wait to see that he’s all right,” he said. “I’ll go and see what they’re doing about sending out to search for him.”

“He’ll turn up all right,” replied Conrad indifferently.

However, Clifford continued to look grave, and took himself off to join Clara. They both returned half-an hour later, with little to report, except that Bart had sent several grooms off in various directions, and had himself ridden up towards the Moor.

“One of the men saw him by the Upper Paddock, watching the colts,” said Clifford. “But that was some hours ago! I can’t make out where he can possibly have gone to. He hasn’t been to the stud-farm, according to Mawgan. The whole thing is utterly incomprehensible!”

“Oh, I hope there isn’t more trouble comin’ upon us!” Clara said, her gaunt countenance wrinkled into lines of foreboding.

Charmian, who had been sitting apart from the others, reading a book, looked up to say dryly: “Well, if you’re wise, you won’t say anything about this to Faith, until we discover just what has happened. Judging by what I can see of the state she’s in, I should say that she’d go into hysterics on the slightest provocation.”

“Lord, Faith wouldn’t worry her head over Ray!” Conrad said scornfully.

“Listen! What’s that?” Clara said sharply.

“Only Ingram,” Conrad answered, recognising the halting tread.

The door was thrust open; Ingram, his florid countenance strangely pale, and an expression of scarcely controlled excitement in his eyes, came in, and swallowed twice before he could manage to speak. “My God!” he uttered, dragging his handkerchief from his pocket, and passing it over his face. “Have you heard? No, I know you haven’t. Gosh, I can’t get over it!”

He was so obviously struggling under the burden of strong emotion that even Eugene was roused from his pose of languid boredom. “Well, what is it?” he demanded. “Don’t stand there gobbling at us, Ingram!”

“Ray!” Ingram jerked out. “Ray!”

“Yes, dear, we’ve already grasped that you have come to tell us something about Ray,” said Aubrey kindly. “Has he attempted to fly the country, or what?”

“He’s shot himself!”

A moment’s shocked, incredulous silence greeted this announcement. Conrad broke it. “Christ.”

Clara gave a moan, and collapsed on to the sofa, rocking herself dumbly to and fro. Charmian sprang up from her chair. “It isn’t possible!”

“I tell you he has! Good God, you don’t think I’d make up such a story, do you? What do you take me for? It’s true!”

“But how — where — when?” stammered Conrad, almost as white as Ingram himself.

“Blew his brains out. Up by Dozmary Pool,” Ingram replied, still mopping his brow.

Conrad started forward. “Bart didn’t find him?” he cried.

“Bart? No! Some trippers — I don’t know who they were. They drove straight into Bodmin, and reported it at the police station there. I don’t know when it was. Really, I feel absolutely dazed! It was all I could do to take it in when that fellow — what’s-his-name? — the Inspector — rang me up just now. You could have knocked me down with a feather! Of course, it’s obvious why he did it, but somehow I never thought that Ray, of all people on this earth — But he did: no doubt about that!”

“Look out!” Charmian said warningly.

Faith stood in the doorway, her eyes wide and questioning. “Ray? What did you never think about Ray? Why are you all looking like that? What is it?”

No one answered her. She stared at Clara, at the tears coursing silently down her cheeks, and asked falteringly: “Clara, what is it? Why don’t you tell me, one of you? What has happened?”

“Ray’s shot himself,” Conrad said curtly.

She stood rock-still, her jaw sagging queerly, her eyes fixed uncomprehendingly on his face. Charmian went across the room towards her, saying: “Pull yourself together, Faith! It’s no worse for you than for the rest of us. We shan’t do any good by making fools of ourselves. Aubrey, go and fetch the brandy from the dining-room! She’s going to faint!”

Even as she spoke, Faith crumpled up where she stood, with no more than a sigh.

“Go on, Aubrey, quick!” Charmian commanded, dropping on her knees beside Faith, and pulling open the neck of her dress. “I knew this would happen! Do get out of the way, Ingram! I can manage perfectly well without your assistance. She’ll be all right in a moment. It was the shock of hearing that fool Con blurt it out like that.”

“Oughtn’t we to get her on to the sofa?” asked Vivian, hovering rather impotently beside Charmian.

“No, she’ll come round quicker where she is. Anyone got any smelling-salts? Ammonia will do, if you haven’t.”

“I’ve got some. I’ll get them!” Vivian said, running out of the room.

By the time she had returned, Faith had come out of her faint, and was being forced to swallow a few sips of neat brandy. She was trembling from head to foot, icily cold, and a little dazed. She whispered: “Did I faint? Why — what — I can’t think what made me!” She lifted one shaking hand to her head. “Oh, my hair! How stupid! I’m all right now. So silly of me! But what...”