J.T. Edson - Blonde Genius

A tall figure had just strolled into view around the end of the villa. Studying the plaited dog’s leash in his hand, his attire of windcheater, riding breeches and boots, Miss Benkinsop deduced that he was the kennelman. Nobody else, in fact, would dare to stroll around the grounds in such an unconcerned manner. The two Alsatians had been trained to mistrust every other person and attack on sight.

Clearly the man was making an unanticipated inspection, checking upon the welfare of his charges. Miss Benkinsop could foresee how that might jeopardize their plans for an unannounced arrival at the villa.

So, apparently, could the girls.

Listening to their whispered conversation, the headmistress felt a fresh wave of irritation.

“I’m afraid he must be silenced, Penelope,” Amanda announced.

“He might not see the dogs,” objected the head girl, without as much as a glance at Miss Benkinsop.

“I’m afraid that will only make matters worse,” Amanda replied, showing as little awareness of the headmistress’s presence. “If he doesn’t, he will become suspicious and institute a more careful search. Perhaps he will even call the butler and request assistance from the ‘Guard House’.”

“He’s seen them!” Penelope breathed. “Just let me get at ’im.”

“Let him come closer,” Amanda advised, watching the man striding towards the dogs. “Whatever happens, he mustn’t raise an alarm.”

Laying aside her kitbag, Miss Benkinsop eased herself into a position of readiness. She had been growing increasingly annoyed by the girls solicitous and slightly condescending attitude. It was, the headmistress decided, time to teach them that there was life in the old dog yet.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Catching sight of the recumbent Alsatians, the kennel-man hurried towards them. He dropped to one knee beside the larger animal and raised its head. Letting out a low growl of understanding, he released his hold and, starting to rise, glared about him indignantly.

Having assumed a posture like a sprinter awaiting the start of a race, Penelope hurled herself from the bushes. Almost before she had taken her second stride, she saw somebody flash by her as if she was standing still. Halting, she felt a faint sense of irritation. She believed that Amanda was trespassing upon her part in the visit. Then she realised that the swiftly moving figure wore a black cat-suit instead of a gym leotard.

It was Miss Benkinsop!

Hearing the rustling in the bushes, the kennelman swung his gaze in that direction. His right hand flashed towards his hip, then froze without touching the revolver it had been seeking. While he had, correctly, surmised that visitors had entered the garden, what he saw came as something of a surprise. Instead of a large gentleman of villainous aspect, he saw bearing down upon him a beautiful lady in clothing which—to say the least—was attractive and eye-catching. So he just stared instead of producing his weapon. He forgot his intention of calling out a greeting, or of alerting the butler of the newcomer’s presence so that a more fitting welcome could be arranged.

Speeding forward, Miss Benkinsop reached the man. With the casual grace of a trained ballet dancer, she propelled her right foot into the air. The toe of her boot caught the man under his chin. Lifted erect, he toppled over backward. Almost before he had landed, Miss Benkinsop followed him down. While she did not like so close an association without a formal introduction, especially with a member of the domestic staff, she realised that it was necessary. Landing, as gently as possible seated upon his chest, she placed her left hand at the base of his neck. Her fingers and thumb, spread in the correct manner, sought out and squeezed the pressure points. Underneath her, she felt the man’s feeble protests ebb away and he lay still.

“D-do you see what I’m seeing?” Penelope croaked to Amanda, as she watched Miss Benkinsop approach the man.

“I do,” agreed the School Swot, only slightly less amazed than her friend,

“Cor! I didn’t know old Benkers ’ad it in ’er,” Penelope declared, watching with admiration the smooth manner in which the headmistress was handling the situation. However, she felt a little aggrieved when she saw how Miss Benkinsop was concluding the discussion.

“Amanda. You showed ’er how to do that trick.”

“Well,” the School Swot replied, apologetically. “Benkers did get the book from Japan for me.”

“Come along, girls,” Miss Benkinsop said, rising and gripping the front of the man’s windcheater. She hauled him into the centre of the bushes. “Time’s wasting. Here, let me take the kitbags.”

Before her pupils could reply, the headmistress had gathered up all three bags and was strolling calmly towards the villa. Amanda looked at Penelope, shrugged in admiration, then led the way after Miss Benkinsop. As they approached the villa, the headmistress signalled for her pupils to halt. Setting down the kitbags, she glided away, in the direction of the gates. Penelope watched Miss Benkinsop go, then turned her gaze towards the villa. There were, to her way of thinking, certain objectionable features about it as the subject of an informal visit.

As on the outside of the garden’s wall, a wide, open driveway surrounding the building. There must be plenty of places in which one could hide in the garden, but the immediate area about the front of the villa was bare and deserted. To make matters worse, it was also illuminated by overhead lights.

“The gate-keeper is in his lodge,” Miss Benkinsop announced, returning from making the necessary reconnaissance. “As he is engrossed in studying a rather unseemly publication, I doubt if we need fear any interruption on his part.”

“So all we ’ave to do is go in,” Penelope suggested.

“Not until I have dealt with the alarm system,” Amanda warned.

“What sort is it?” asked the head girl, remembering lessons which she had heard members of the Household Hints class discuss. “An ‘open’, or ‘closed’ one?”

“A combination,” Amanda replied. “It incorporates features of both.”

“I’m afraid that I am to blame for that,” Miss Benkinsop admitted. “When Mr. Anacropolis demurred on the point of cost, I explained that neither ‘open’ nor ‘closed’ systems were entirely satisfactory. In the former case, merely snipping the wires would have rendered it innocuous and in the latter, judicious cross-contacting of the wires will ensure that sufficient current continues to flow to prevent the alarm from functioning.”

“You wasn’t to know we’d want to get in, ma’am,” Penelope declared. “Anyway, I bet Amanda knows how to deal with their old combination system.”

“Well,” the School Swot said, hesitantly. “I have an idea of how it might be done, of course. Shall we see if it works?”

“Go ahead,” Miss Benkinsop authorised. “Do you wish Penelope and I to remain here until you finish?”

“Perhaps it would be advisable if we all stayed together, ma’am,” Amanda answered. “Then you and Penelope could keep cavey—”

“I know what cavey means,” Miss Benkinsop smiled. “Old and decrepit as I may appear.”

“Yes’m,” Amanda smiled. “You can keep cavey. Warning me, if it becomes necessary. will be quieter and easier if you are close by.”

Penelope grabbed up Amanda’s and her own bags. Then she accompanied the head mistress and the School Swot to the side of the villa. For the first time, they were completely exposed to view under the glowing exterior lights of the building.

While Miss Benkinsop and Penelope kept cavey. Amanda located the cover of the alarm systems junction box. To other eyes, the particular stone upon which she devoted her attention might have been a solid, integral section of the wall. It yielded to her manipulations, swinging open upon carefully designed and hidden hinges. She peered into the gloomy cavity which the door had concealed, studying the various wires. All were identical in size and colour, with no clue as to their true functions. Even in daylight, or with an electric torch to illuminate the interior, deciding which was which would have been extremely difficult.