CHAPTER ONE

THE ACQUISITION OF POWER

 

"Your glass is empty," said Lord Maidwell. "May I fill it?"

Madeleine St. Clair glanced at her watch. "I don't think so, thank you. It's after midnight. I really ought to go."

"Just a small one. And then perhaps you'll let me run you home?"

"That would be very nice of you. All right, just a small one."

She watched the man as he threaded his way through the crush at the Chelsea supper-party. He's very attractive, she thought. And he certainly finds me attractive. He's trying his best to work up to an improper proposal, but he's crashingly shy, poor dear. It'll be interesting to see what happens on the way home.

"Thank you," she said, as he returned and gave her the glass. "That's quite a big one."

"An uncooperative barman. I told him a small one. Tell me, do you know these people well?"

"This crowd?"

"Yes."

"Not really. I've been abroad for some years, but I was at school with our hostess."

"The lovely Audrey."

"Yes, she is lovely, isn't she? And here, in fact, she comes."

The Hon. Audrey Morphy came up to them. "It is wonderful to see you back Madeleine darling. So you two know each other? Good."

"I've been wondering," said John Maidwell, "why I haven't met Miss St. Clair before, but now I learn that she's been abroad I don't blame myself so much."

Audrey Murphy put her hand on her friend's arm. "Darling, I have an idea. Are you free this weekend?"

"Yes," said Madeleine St. Clair. "Why?"

"I'm going down Friday-to-Tuesday to some cousins in Hampshire. Do come with me, and then we'll have time to talk and talk."

"Well ..."

"Do, darling. It'll be a quiet weekend. He's the vicar of a village down there, and he has a dozen or so boys whom he crams for Common Entrance. But we shan't see anything of them, and there's no wife, only a daughter, sixteen years old and ravishingly beautiful, as well as clever. We'll have a wonderful time."

Madeleine smiled. "I'd love to. It sounds just the sort of week-end I need."

"Good. We'll be driving down. Come and have lunch her on Friday, and bring your bags with you. And now, do excuse me, I must go and look after the people I don't know so well."

"We're just off, anyway. Thank you for a lovely party."

John shook hands with his hostess. "Yes, thank you so much." He looked round the room. "Where is your husband?"

"Over there by the door."

"Oh yes."

He steered Madeleine St. Clair towards the door at which their host was standing. They thanked him and said goodnight, and went into the hall. The front door was opened for them by a beautiful redheaded maid. They made their way to the cars parked opposite the house.

"It's quite amazing," said Madeleine as the man opened the door of his big black Mercedes for her, "how Audrey has managed to find such good-looking maids."

"It's quite amazing that she's found any maids at all," he replied. "And that one at the door was a beauty, I agree."

"And she had two others - equally beautiful."

"Good God!"

He manoeuvred his way out of his parking position, and increased speed. "Where to? I hope it's nice and far."

"Richmond Park. I'll show you when we get there."

"Right." He fumbled for his cigarette case and offered it. "Did you notice our host's wrists?" he said, as he lit her cigarette.

"Peter's wrists? No. Why?"

"Well, I should say one of his wrists. When he shook hands. I didn't see the other."

"No, I didn't notice anything. What about it?"

"Damn great rope marks, his cuff slid up when he shook hands with me. He's been tied up somewhere."

"Tied up? Surely not. Peter? Why ever would he have been tied up?"

"Goodness knows, but they were rope marks all right. No mistaking them."

"How very curious."

There was little traffic at that hour, once they had left the Chelsea district, but John drove slowly. He realised that he had drunk a lot. He wondered how far he would be able to go that night with his companion. she did not seem the sort of person who would take kindly to any advances at love-making in a parked car, but he decided to see how things were going when he reached the relative darkness of Richmond Common. If they were going well enough he might stop at the side of the road and offer her another drink from the portable bar in the boot of the car. After that, things could take their course. He would be very careful though. He had a terror of being snubbed.

"What do you do?" asked Madeleine.

"Foreign Office."

"Home or overseas?"

"Overseas."

She turned her head and regarded him. "Yes, it fits, the younger diplomat."

He laughed. "Thank you kindly. I hope Lord Curle has the same opinion."

"Audrey's father? Why?"

"He's the man who really says yes or no to diplomatic appointments now."

"Does he? I didn't know that."

"And what, if anything, do you do?"

"I'm ashamed to say I do nothing except travel."

"That's nice. Ah, here's the beginning of the common, I'll open up a bit."

The car increased speed, and swept smoothly along the empty, unlit road. In the beam of the headlights they saw a man half a mile in front of them. He began to wave his arms and moved into the middle of the road.

"He looks a bit unsteady on his feet," said Madeleine.

"Yes, he's quite drunk," said John, and blew his horn. "We won't stop of course, but I wish he'd move out of the middle of the road." He blew his horn again and put his foot lightly on the brake.

The man moved a yard or so nearer to the edge of the road and shook his fist at the oncoming car. Then he waved his arms again, swaying from side to side.

"Do be careful," said Madeleine. "He might fall under your wheels."

As the car came up to the man, and he realised finally that it was not going to stop, he raised both fists, shook them violently, and lurched forward into the middle of the road again. He stumbled and fell flat on his face in the path of the wheels.

John swung his steering-wheel and put down his brake hard. He felt a crunch as his off-side front wheel lifted itself over something.

"Oh my God!" breathed Madeleine.

John opened his door and ran round the front of the car. He knelt and looked at the man. His heart seemed to stop beating as he saw that the wheel had passed over the man's head and broken his neck. He put his hand to the man's heart, then slowly straightened himself. He looked at the girl. "He's dead."

"My God!" she said again. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure, I'm afraid."

"Oh, what a stupid thing to do, I mean him. It was his own fault."

"Yes, but that doesn't help matters. I've been drinking quite heavily. They'll find that out at once, they have tests you know." He looked down again at the man in the road.

"What are you going to do?"

H shrugged. "Find a phone and ring the police, nothing else to do."

"What good will that do?"

He looked up at her slowly. "What do you mean?"

"You're absolutely sure he's dead?"

"Good God, yes! His neck is broken and his heart's stopped anyway."

"Come on then, let's go."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean it would be stupid to call the police. It won't bring him back to life, will it? And it was completely his own fault. Why should you wreck your career? Come on."

He stared at her without speaking, his thoughts racing.

"And," she went on, "nobody has seen us. The road is completely empty, for the moment, but it won't remain so. Come on! Don't be a sentimental idiot, you can't do anything for him."

He frowned for a moment and made up his mind. "All right, you're probably right. Let's go ... quickly." He stooped and pulled the body out of the path of the rear wheel, and ran round to his seat. He found that he had left the engine running, and he drove quickly away.

She lit a cigarette and put it between his lips. "Don't fret, it wasn't your fault, and this is the only sensible thing to do."

He nodded but did not reply. They drove in silence for some minutes, then she began to give him directions. At length they pulled up in front of her house.

"Don't fret," she said again. "Don't be silly and sentimental."

He smiled at her ruefully. "All right."

"Nobody but us two will ever know."

He smiled again. "This puts me completely in your power, doesn't it?"

"It does, doesn't it?" she said lightly. Then she turned and faced him, thoughtfully. "Yes, it does, indeed! I hadn't thought of that."