By the time Monday evening came, Toby had pretty well recovered from the excesses of Alasdair’s bed and was ready to get his mind away from his nether regions and into the right place for investigation. Alasdair had driven over, picked him up and they’d headed west to a car park just around the corner from The Swan with Two Necks . Here Jonny was waiting, having made his way there straight from work.
“All hail!” Jonny waved and came over as they got out of the car. “The game’s afoot and all that, only—in honour of Professor Coppersmith—I’m quoting Henry the Fifth and not Sherlock.”
“He’d be glad to hear it,” Alasdair said, while Toby suppressed a grin in remembrance of the phrase being quoted on Saturday night and the events which had followed.
“Ready for the fray?” Jonny asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Toby rolled his eyes. “It seemed such a good idea last week but all today I’ve had a building sense of dread that this will prove a damp squib or a mare’s nest.”
“Oh, ye of little faith.” Jonny grabbed them both by the arm and set off at a brisk pace for the pub.
From the moment the three went through the door, and at the briefest glance around, The Swan with Two Necks appeared to live up to the reputation Moira had given it. As Fred Astaire might have sung, it simply reeked of class. It wasn’t simply a matter of the clientele, who from their smartness of dress wouldn’t have looked out of place in an exclusive London club, but the building itself. This proved elegant, with well-maintained décor and a bar that could have stepped out of a West End hotel: if Toby had felt slightly discombobulated by his experience the previous week at Clarence House on Eagle Street, then Alasdair must be experiencing the same sensation now, given his facial expression.
“Anyone else detect the faint whiff of theatricality here that Toby picked up last Monday at Clanfield House? Like I’m in a John Mills film.” Jonny whispered, as they stood in the doorway scanning the room for Moira.
“I’ll answer that when we’re not being scrutinised,” Alasdair said.
They’d certainly caught folk’s attention and been given the once over by most of those present, although whether that was because they were newcomers or that two of their faces were remarkably well-known, Toby couldn’t tell.
As they neared the bar, the man serving behind it grinned. “You must be Moira’s guests. I’ll let her know.”
He’d got as far as opening the counter when the woman concerned emerged from a door to what must be the back room. “I thought I heard my name and decided to save you a job, Malcolm,” she told the barman with an easy familiarity that suggested she was a regular habitue of the place. “Here are my three Daniels, come to the lions’ den.”
“I thought of us more as the Three Musketeers.” Jonny held his hand out to shake hers. “Daniel might be more like it, though.”
“I hope we’re not actually Meshach, Shadrach and Abednego,” Toby said, taking his turn at handshaking and trying to prevent his recollection of the conversation concerning Watson’s service revolver from appearing on his face. “My mother has written me a note to say I’m to be excused fiery furnaces. This is Alasdair.”
“Delighted to meet you.” Another batch of handshaking. “I must assure you all—and Toby’s mother—that none of you are really in danger.” Moira’s bright smile disappeared, to be replaced with an expression of concern. “You’re not actually worried about this evening, are you? The lions’ den comment was no more than a joke, to break the ice.”
Alasdair flashed his most charming smile. “The unknown is always rather disconcerting, and this situation is awash with unknowns.”
Moira sighed. “Yes. I do feel I have to keep apologising for all the intrigue but, you see, this business is rather complicated and not solely my story to tell. While meeting last week was useful, it also complicated matters. However, I promise you won’t leave here in the same state of confusion and ignorance that you must have done then.”
“Is that because Lloyd isn’t here?” Jonny asked, sweetening the direct question with a chuckle.
“You might say so. The Monday Evening Association is rather his baby and he’d be mortified to think we were meeting without him, especially with Toby being present. You see, he’d begun to think of you as his coup de theatre .” Moira shrugged, apologetically.
“But this isn’t his club, is it?” Alasdair said. “Despite three members expected to attend. I mean, just because Toby and I are present doesn’t make it a Landseer event.”
“I’d wish you good luck if you tried telling Lloyd that.” Moira made a moue of displeasure. “He’d be afraid we were making a breakaway group, with our film star agreeing to attend, despite your leaving in such a marked—if charming—manner last week.”
“Moira,” Toby said, “can I reiterate that I don’t possess and never have possessed any unusual powers. I don’t accept the assertion that I may have something lying dormant that has not yet been revealed to me.”
Moira studied him briefly before saying, “I believe you. Lloyd isn’t as infallible as he thinks he is. Ah, here are the boys.”
Richard and Jeff came over and a fresh round of greetings and introductions were effected. Richard still resembled a second-string actor from a war film, although in this setting it didn’t stick out so much. Eighty per cent of the clientele could have been extras in a bar scene where John Mills was taking a heartrending farewell of his light of love. Jeff also seemed to have toned down the heartiness since their previous meeting, which suggested it might have formed some kind of defence mechanism against Lloyd. Drinks were ordered, which the barman said he’d bring to the back room, into which the company now repaired.
“Does Alasdair know what happened at the meeting a week ago?” Jeff asked, as they settled around an unlaid table in what turned out to be surprisingly comfy chairs.
“Yes, he’s had a briefing from both of us,” Toby said. “Service habits die hard, so a full report after action feels a formality.”
Alasdair nodded. “And once we started practicing some amateur investigating, it proved jolly useful to have kept up the habit.”
“It’s a natural consequence of a curious mind, too,” Jonny said. “I was too young to serve and didn’t have that discipline drummed into me during National Service, but if anything unusual happens to me, I want to discuss it with either a friend or one of my highly inquisitive family.”
“So, you see, poor Alasdair’s had his ear bent from both sides.” Toby paused to scan those present and emphasise his upcoming point. “Not that he was much the wiser than we were at the end of it. I confess I’d never have called myself a coward but I couldn’t wait to be away from those offices last week and Jonny here felt the same. It needed glasses of both hock and port to restore our equilibrium and if it wasn’t for that aforementioned natural curiosity, I’m not sure we’d be here tonight. What is this all about?”
“An apology for a start,” Jeff said. “We didn’t mean to drive you to drink but Lloyd gets rather over-excited.”
Toby felt his hackles rise at yet another apology but no answer to his question. “It wasn’t simply him, it was your stories about sermons and bus seats and the like, none of which I was prepared for.” He took a deep breath. “Can we cut to the key part of the script, as ‘twere? What is all this about?”
The entrance of the barman with a tray of drinks—poorly timed, as far as Toby was concerned—lessened the tension. Once the door was closed again, Moira asked, “Did you notice the empty chair in the circle at the meeting last Monday?”
“We couldn’t miss the thing,” Jonny said. “Lloyd kept glancing at it, for one thing.”
Moira nodded, cradling her gin and tonic but not yet drinking from the glass. “He did indeed. You see, there used to be a fifth member of our group, Alexandra Cummings, but she’s not attended for the last couple of months. Lloyd lives in hope that she’ll turn up again and always sets her a place, though.”
“And you want to find out what’s happened to her?” Alasdair asked.
“Yes,” Moira and Jeff chimed in unison, while Richard said, “Absolutely.”
“Then you need to give us as much information as possible. Including why you’re so worried about her.” Alasdair produced a leatherbound notepad and elegant propelling pencil, with which to take notes: clearly he wanted to create the best impression.
“Let’s start with the order of events.” Jeff laid down his beer.
“Let’s not,” Toby said. “I’m sorry, everyone, but much as I’m interested in helping find this lady, we don’t simply need information on her . Before I agree to take on any commission, I want to know exactly what’s going on concerning your special powers, because I know I don’t have one and frankly I doubt you all do. If you don’t want to answer, then we can simply decide if we want to leave, without any rancour on either side.” He hadn’t meant to be quite so frank at this early stage of the evening, but his patience was running low. He glanced at Alasdair and Jonny, who both nodded.
To Toby’s surprise, Moira broke into a grin. “I knew you wouldn’t be as gullible as Lloyd. No, we don’t have any powers, beyond the ability to tell a good tale.”
“Not good enough, though, in your case,” Jeff said. “If we promise to be totally frank, will you promise to help us keep up the pretence with Lloyd or others, if need be? It might be vitally important.”
“I’m more than pleased to agree to that. It’s a weight off my shoulders, not having to wonder why such apparently well-balanced and intelligent people were spouting bizarre stuff about sermons and change and whatever. Happy with that, lads?” Toby asked the other two.
Jonny nodded again, while Alasdair said, “Absolutely. If pretence is needed, we’ve the relevant experience.”
Best to press on while those present assumed that Alasdair was only referring to their acting and didn’t think any deeper. “Then tell us how we can help. Jeff, shall we start with your order of events, as you put it?”
“Alexandra was already a member of the group when I joined, last October. She and Lloyd had met a couple of times before then, so I was the third member. Then Moira came along a fortnight later and Richard’s the baby of the group at about four months’ attendance.”
Richard snorted. “That makes me sound as though I’m still being pushed in my nanny’s perambulator. Alexandra was such a pleasant girl—rather I should say she was a pleasant young woman. Very welcoming to all of us and someone who stood no nonsense from Lloyd. If he started to get visions of grandeur she’d prick his balloon of pomposity with some quip.”
“Did he resent having said balloon burst?” Alasdair asked.
“Seemingly not. She did it in the most charming fashion, you see, although even if she hadn’t, he might not have been upset by it.” Moira shrugged. “I dare say he’d have reacted differently if she’d been an Alexander. My assessment is that Lloyd’s deferential to women but doesn’t like men standing up to him. Would that be right?”
“Absolutely,” Jeff said. “Richard and I have been on the wrong end of a withering look or two.”
Good to know that Toby and Jonny’s reading of the tension at the previous meeting appeared to be accurate. “Any reason he likes to be top dog?”
“We-ell,” Moira said, pinching her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger, “strictly between us six, he didn’t have that high powered a job during the war and it’s clear he resents the fact.”
That accorded with one of the theories aired at the premiere: they’d have to let Bessy and Geraldine know of their success.
“About these visions of grandeur Lloyd has.” Alasdair tapped his notepad, where he’d evidently jotted down the fact. “Can you be more specific?”
“Only in that he wants us to use our powers—” Richard cast an uncomfortable glance at Toby as he said the word, “—our supposed powers, for a greater purpose. He’s convinced we’ve been blessed with what we can do for a reason and, according to him, we simply have to discover what that reason is.”
Jonny raised his hand. “I suspect I’m being rather dim, but I’m not clear about how you were recruited to this group and why you put on such a show to maintain your membership rather than run away, like we did. Not to mention Lloyd thinking he can find a ‘greater purpose’ for sermon predicting or bus seat grabbing. They’re hardly the weapons for stopping the Russians invading.”
“There’s no accounting for the workings of Lloyd’s mind, I’m afraid,” Jeff said. “As for joining the group, I already vaguely knew Alexandra from work. For a while, she was one of the secretaries to a department we worked alongside. On one occasion, several of us went out for lunch together—someone’s birthday, I think—and she told me she’d joined a new group. One which had changed her life. She regarded the Monday Evening Association as a place where like minds could meet and be a support to each other. She said she’d been lonely, because she was an only child and her parents lived miles away. I thought no more of it until I was in Oxford Street a week later and saw her chatting to Lloyd. She introduced us, he gave me the once over, and the next week I got an invitation—via the internal post at work—to join them. I went along and got a hell of a surprise when they started talking about powers, but I wanted to stay so I had to come up with something on the spur of the moment. If I’d had more time to think about it, I’d have made a better fist of things, but they seemed to believe the bus seat story. They probably wanted to believe, and I was in a bus crash during the war, so I could salt the story with a fair degree of truth.”
“What made you want to stay with the group?” Toby enquired.
When Jeff hesitated to answer—and went red in the process—Moira leaped in. “Because Alexandra was such a nice girl that any red-blooded male would have wanted to spend time with her, especially if he could impress her. Hence Jeff cementing his place in the group.”
“What was Alexandra’s supposed power?” Alasdair asked.
“She could predict the weather.” Jeff was evidently happier talking about this. “Not by reading charts and barometers or whatever, but by instinct.”
“Now that would be distinctly useful. Assuming it were true, which I guess it isn’t,” Toby said.
“She was certain it was,” Jeff asserted, “and the odd occasions I heard her do her party trick, she was pretty spot on. However, as I understand it from a chap who explained it to me years ago, British weather gets into set patterns. If you simply say that tomorrow’s weather will be the same as today’s, you’ll be right something like seventy five percent of the time.”
Toby sniffed. “I suppose there must have been an exception to her so-called powers, as with Moira and her empty pockets.”
“There was.” Jeff nodded. “You see, her ability allegedly couldn’t work if people didn’t believe she could do it. You won’t be surprised to hear that.”
“I don’t think we are.” Toby shared a knowing glance with his two colleagues. “Well, that’s how you came into things, Jeff. What about you two?”
“I joined next, so I’ll take up the story,” Moira said. “I’ve known Jeff on and off since the time of the blitz, from running across each other in our work back then. More recently, I bumped into him at a party and he told me about this odd meeting he’d been to a few days previously. I was intrigued, so we planned for me to go along, with my ‘spare change’ story prepared in advance. As it turned out, we both decided to keep attending, but that’s another part of the story that I’ll hold fire on for the moment.”
Jeff’s taking the initiative on bringing along a new member would go towards explaining the tension between him and Lloyd, if the former felt his prerogative of issuing invitations had been usurped. The story also begged several questions about what work Moira and Jeff had been doing and how ships came into it, unless his account of his war service had also been so much hot air.
“You felt that coming to the meetings wasn’t a waste of your time, then?” Alasdair asked, perhaps wondering if he’d get a hint at whether Moira’s decision to stay involved fancying Jeff.
“Absolutely not. We felt we were doing something useful again.”
Did that chime with what Bessy had said about a post-war return to work proving a let down?
Before Toby could formulate an appropriate question, Richard put down his empty glass and said, “That just leaves me. I met Lloyd in December, at an old boys reunion of all things. I vaguely remembered him from my time at school although we were never really pals. We had the usual chat about where we worked now and the like: the next thing I knew, he was inviting me to this Monday Evening Association . My experience at my first meeting was as bewildering as yours must have been, Toby. I wanted to stay, because I enjoyed everyone’s company so had to concoct a story off the cuff. When I was younger, we used to hold sweepstakes on the length of the vicar’s sermon, so that inspired me.”
Enjoyed everyone’s company ? Toby would guess it was Moira’s in particular, rather than Alexandra’s.
“Thanks for making all that clear,” Jonny said. “Is this a good time to get a second round of drinks in? My treat, on behalf of all those Stewarts who love a good mystery.”
The ordering of drinks and visits to the toilet allowed everyone a chance to take stock. Toby and Alasdair’s paths crossed as they headed to and from the lavatory respectively.
“Happier now we have an explanation?” Alasdair asked.
“Absolutely. Although I don’t think we’re anywhere near the full story. No wonder I was reminded of Henry Himself when I first met them. As labyrinthine a set of circumstances as in that film, only in this case it’s for real. At least, I hope it is. I couldn’t bear it if they’re still pretending.”
Alasdair’s insured eyebrow beautifully communicated his sympathy with the notion.
Once they’d reassembled, Jeff took a draught of beer and said, “Back to Alexandra. The first Monday meeting in March, she didn’t turn up. We delayed our start but decided something must have happened at the last moment and she hadn’t been able to get word to us. A fortnight later she didn’t attend again and none of us had heard from her in the interim. She’d changed her job in the interim, so I couldn’t even catch her at work and nobody in the office seems to know where she’s employed now. Or if they do know, they aren’t telling. We asked Lloyd if he’d tried to make contact, but he simply said that of course he had and changed the subject. It was clearly a sore point with him, although that spare chair still appears every time we meet, as though he’s expecting her to return. Perhaps he does know more about it than he’s saying.”
“Or wants to pretend that she’s likely to come back,” Moira said, “maybe knowing damn well that she won’t or can’t.”
“Do you think that Lloyd has got something to do with her non-appearance?” Jonny asked.
“Possibly.” Moira spread her hands. “We just don’t know what’s happened to her, which is why we wanted to talk to you. I know you’re busy but I also know you like to dabble—that’s not meant to be insulting, it simply seems the best word—in detection. Would you have time to look into it? Even if you find Alexandra and she simply says, ‘I hate the whole boiling and don’t want to speak to any of them ever again.’ It’s not simply a matter of knowing why she went—we’d like to be sure that she’s safe.”
Now they seemed to be coming to the crux.
“Why should she be in any danger?” Alasdair asked. “She might, for example, have had an argument with Lloyd and decided she’d had enough. In that case he might not want to admit what had happened, especially if he’d been at fault. From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t strike me as a man who likes to be in the wrong.”
“That’s all true, but there’s more,” Richard said. “I saw her, at the end of January having a row with somebody outside Fortnum and Masons . A younger chap—by which I mean more her age than mine—and they were at it hammer and tongs. He grabbed her arm at one point, and she shrugged him off. I was about to intervene when she stomped away. It may have nothing to do with anything, of course, but I wanted you to know because some chaps are horribly violent towards women, and awful crimes do get committed. Young women are never seen again, because…well, we’re all adults and we know the kind of things that happen to them.”
Alasdair, who’d been wearing a look of concentration for the last few minutes, a look which increasingly suggested he was trying to hide his exasperation, laid down his drink. “As you say, that’s all true, although why on earth do you think that applies in this case? There are plenty of reasons people go off. Maybe she’s moved back in with her parents to get away from an ex-boyfriend—perhaps the one she argued with—and she’s not bothered enough to let any of you know the fact. Unless you’ve got something concrete to offer us, then I’m afraid it’s likely to be a waste of our time. Even if she were a victim of one of these vile men who often strike at random, we’d have less chance of pinning him down than the police would. If you truly believe she’s in danger, go to them.”
“But you’re the men who helped catch The Grey Assassin .” Richard’s face resembled that of a kicked puppy.
“We are,” Toby said, “but there were clues a-plenty to go on, in that case, including the bodies of the victims. We’d look pretty stupid going to our police contacts if all we have to say is that Alexandra has stopped coming to your club. We can’t work miracles.”
After an awkward pause, Jeff asked, “Do you know anything about the firm whose offices we meet at?”
“As we understand it, Herbert and Chapman aren’t your usual solicitors. They handle all kinds of cases, some of which other companies might not wish to touch.” Which suggested a point for Toby to raise. “They also have an investigational arm, which begs the question of why you’ve not used them.”
“Use Lloyd’s chums?” Moira snorted. “They’d snitch straight back to him. Given that we’re allowed to use their offices for free, despite their reputation for confidentiality, Lloyd must be in a privileged position with them.”
“From what we’ve heard, that’s nothing to boast of,” Alasdair said, his uninsured eyebrow registering disdain. “I have it on good authority that the firm also deals with the kind of cases that a decent person might balk at. If the eldest son of a lord was caught interfering with young boys, Herbert and Chapman would try to get the case hushed up or, if that failed, arrange the defence.”
“How sickening,” Richard said, face drawn.
Moira sniffed disdainfully. “Nothing about them surprises me. I’ve seen what goes in their bins sometimes.”
“We should insist on a change of venue.” Jeff grimaced. “You may think I’m overreacting but I’d rather not be in the same room that’s been trodden by anyone who’s done such things. I had a pal at school it had happened to. Disgusting stuff. I wish we didn’t have to discuss it.”
“Why did you ask, then?” Jonny said.
“This is where things become more complicated than a case of a missing woman, although the two might be related. It’s also where the issue becomes more important than one person’s life.” Jeff glanced at Moira.
She nodded. “Well put. Alexandra worked at Herbert and Chapman for a short while, after she moved on from Jeff’s place of work, but she left them very abruptly. That was just before her final Monday evening meeting, which is when she told us she’d changed jobs again, although not all the details about why.”
“She was positively glowing at the prospect,” Richard said. “Sorry, Moira. I shouldn’t have interrupted your flow.”
“Not to worry.” Moira gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Having heard your information, Alasdair, I think we have a possible explanation, which might make her leaving there less sinister-feeling. You see, we think it—and her disappearance—might be linked to something that she accidentally heard in the office.”
Toby hoped this would be the nub of the matter at last. “Go on.”
“At the last meeting of February, I was making coffee and Alexandra was helping. She seemed a little out of sorts so I asked what was wrong. She said she’d been in the office the week before and picked up one of the telephones to make a call but must have got a crossed line.” Moira glanced at the door, perhaps making sure it was firmly closed. “Two people were discussing the coronation. How it would make a huge statement to disrupt the event in some way.”
“Disrupt the coronation?” Alasdair sounded rightly horrified. “That sounds treasonable.”
“Exactly what she thought. Alexandra recognised one of the voices as being someone who worked in her office, although she wouldn’t tell me his name. I’m guessing, from the fact she referred to him as ‘the b…’ and changed that to ‘the bloke I work with’ that it was one of the bosses. The other person she didn’t recognise, although he was keen to make this disruption as violent as possible: small acts weren’t worth the effort, apparently. The one from Alexandra’s office was egging him on.” Moira sighed. “That’s all she could report, because they must have realised they were being overheard and clammed up. She put the phone down and made herself scarce. The next week she was told by a friend about a better opportunity, so she gave notice and off she went. We’ve been worried that what she heard was a genuine threat, rather than just hot air coming from someone who wanted to puff up their importance.”
“You think this is serious enough to lead her into hiding, possibly because she feels in danger?” Alasdair suggested. “Or is your thinking that somebody’s decided they had to get her out of the way because she knew too much?”
Richard grimaced. “We’ve considered both of those.”
“Does Lloyd know anything about this business?” Jonny asked. “You mentioned a greater purpose he had in mind, so I wondered if this was it. Part of his plans for you using your—admittedly—non-existent powers to combat the threat.”
“If it is,” Richard said, “he’s not mentioned anything to us and every fortnight that passes is a fortnight closer to the big day. Him being so pally with Billy Chapman, there’s a chance he might be in on the plot.”
“That’s another one of the reasons we’ve continued to stick with the group,” Moira explained. “On the off chance that he might let something slip or that Alexandra might return and we can ask her directly.”
Toby raised his hand. “I have to ask this, so please don’t take it amiss. Given that all three of you concocted a story about things you could do that were actually all my eye and Betty Martin, is it possible that Alexandra’s story is equally poppycock?”
“That’s something else we’ve considered,” Richard said. “Moira swears that when they had their chat over the kettle, Alexandra looked and sounded both upset and scared at what had happened.”
Moira nodded. “She’d have had to be as accomplished an actress as Miss Marsden, if it was all pretend. I got no impression that she simply wanted to be the centre of attention by crying wolf, if that makes sense”
“It does,” Toby replied. “Do you have anything else you can tell us to aid us in finding her?”
“Hold on a minute,” Jonny said, drumming the table. “I know that my illustrious actor pals here are dab hands at amateur investigation, but this has turned into a bigger business than they should be dealing with alone. Surely you need the proper authorities involved. Did Alexandra go to the police? If not, why haven’t you? If she overheard a possible plot before she left your group that means it’s been in development for over two months and time becomes more of the essence with each passing hour if we want to foil it.”
“Jonny’s right,” Alasdair said. “We could be entering the territory of anarchists throwing bombs at the coronation procession or something equally vile, in which case one or all of you need head off to the nearest police station and report what you know. It’s a matter of weeks away. June the second, not October or November.”
“They’ll laugh us to scorn.” Jeff ran his hands through his hair. “I hate being the centre of attention at the best of times and the thought of reporting this fills me with horror, despite understanding full well that it’s my public duty. All we can do is tell the police is a second-hand account of what somebody told us they heard and said person isn’t around to corroborate any of the facts. That’s a key part of why we’d like to speak to Alexandra again, and urgently. To get enough information for the police to think it sufficiently vital to investigate. Despite what Moira said about her plausibility, Alexandra could have made up the story, or embroidered it, in the same way that I heavily embroidered the tale of my bus crash and then we’d be wasting the police’s time. Or maybe the authorities would try to get more information from Lloyd and he’d start talking about the powers nonsense: the next thing you know they’ll assume we’re a bunch of lunatics and lock us up.”
“If they won’t take your story seriously,” Toby said, “then leave it with us. We’ll talk directly to Matthew Firestone, our connection at Scotland Yard. If we think the situation worth considering, he’ll approach it with the right degree of gravitas.”
“He might also take Alexandra’s disappearance more seriously, too, given the sequence of events leading up to it,” Alasdair pointed out. “She becomes a possible key witness.”
“I agree,” Jonny said. “The case is completely altered, begging the question of whether you can afford not to go and tell them. I’m thinking of the welfare of another young woman, a royal one. If anything happened at the coronation, could you ever forgive yourselves?”
“You’re quite right, Jonny.” Moira looked suitably shamefaced. “We should be girding our loins and not being cowards.”
“Exactly. I’m assuming that Toby and Alasdair feel the same as I do, that time is of the essence, so I’ll be speaking to Superintendent Firestone tomorrow if nobody else volunteers. I’d rather be thought silly and find myself being sent off with a flea in my ear for wasting his time than risk some poor soul being hurt because I didn’t speak up.”
“You are quite right,” Richard said, with a sigh. “It’s all such a mess, you see. We’ve mulled it over time and again—to act or not to act, you might say—so when Lloyd said he was going to invite Toby to a meeting, we thought that our prayers had been answered. Not only because of his talents in detection, but the fact that Alexandra was…is still, I hope…a great devotee of him and Alasdair. A member of both your fan clubs, apparently, so we were hoping that fact in itself may help to gather more information about her than we’ve managed to get our hands on. If you have connections to your devotees, of course.”
“We do indeed,” Alasdair said, “and it’s a shame we didn’t know about Alexandra a month ago, as we’ve been at their respective gatherings within the past few weeks. We might have been able to pick up some information on where she is.”
“She might even have been present at those meetings,” Toby pointed out, “and I’m afraid I haven’t got a return engagement booked for a while.”
“Same in my case,” Alasdair said.
“Still, we know the chairwomen of our appreciation societies rather well and could easily bend their ears. I’d anticipate that they’d love being able to help, if we keep the matter as nothing more than trying to help you locate her and we leave the other aspects for the moment.”
“You don’t happen to have a picture of her?” Alasdair asked. “Not that either of us have photographic memories, but we might recall the face. You never know.”
Jeff shook his head. “Alas, we don’t.”
“We could give you a description,” Richard suggested, “although I’m not sure it will help that much. She was Moira’s height, had mousy hair and brown eyes, was very pretty and soft spoken. Late twenties at a guess and always neatly turned out. She gave me the impression she’d quite like to be in films herself. Touch of Lorelei, perhaps.”
“She didn’t look like Marilyn Monroe, though,” Moira said, clearly thinking of the musical film the lovely Marilyn and the equally stunning Jane Russell had in production. Was there a touch of asperity about Alexandra’s appearance?
Toby cracked on with his response. “I’m afraid that could apply to several of those ladies who attend my fan club’s meetings, and because we have no reason to each other’s do’s, we wouldn’t know if anyone had been at both unless they mentioned it, which they didn’t.”
“Still, assuming Alexandra Cummings isn’t an alias then we might be able to come up with a contact address at the very least.” Alasdair paused, clearly choosing his words carefully. “I think—and don’t take this amiss—that given all we’ve discussed, it would be as well for one or all of us to continue acting as go-betweens. If she has a reason not to get in touch with you which overrides your need to speak to her, then we can pose the relevant questions about what she overheard.”
“I think we understand the wisdom of that.” Moira glanced at the other two, who nodded in agreement. “Our priorities should be primarily to establish that she’s well and, if she did hear a threat being made, then we discover as much detail as we can, to pass on to the relevant people.”
“In that case, while Jonny gets on to Superintendent Firestone tomorrow,” Alasdair said, “we’ll talk to the delightful and eminently sensible ladies who run our appreciation societies.”
“I think there’s another person we should speak to, as well,” Toby proposed. “We may not be in close contact with anyone directly involved in organising the big event, but we know somebody who is. She’s got a formidable brain on her, to boot. She’ll know what to do.”