‘Or at least to make it less obvious who really did it,’ she said.
‘Well, ’t wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been led down a false trail,’ he said, thoughtfully. ‘But I can’t just let him go.’
‘No, I suppose not. But be kind to him; I really don’t think he did it.’
‘Right you are, m’lady,’ he said. ‘But please be quick. It’d be nice to get this one sorted before the Gloucester detectives change their minds and come sniffin’ around. I don’t like them, not one bit.’
‘We shall move heaven and earth, my dear Sergeant,’ she said with a smile, and after saying our goodbyes, we left.
As we made our way around the green, we heard the parp of a motor horn and looked up to see Sir Hector’s motor coming along the road. It pulled up alongside us and Sir Hector poked his head out of the window.
‘What ho, ladies,’ he said with a cheerful grin. ‘Sorry for gettin’ Bert to make such a racket but I didn’t want to miss you. Would you care to join me up at The Grange for elevenses?’
Lady Hardcastle and I exchanged looks, but neither of us gave any sign that it seemed like a bad idea, so she returned his grin and said, ‘Why thank you, Hector dear, that would be delightful.’
And so we hopped into the motorcar and set off for The Grange.
Sir Hector had asked Jenkins to bring us tea and cake in the library and we had settled ourselves in comfortable chairs clustered around a small occasional table. He seemed pleased to have company and had been chattering almost continuously since we had climbed into the motor with him. As the refreshments arrived, he finished his account of the replanting of the rose beds and switched the points to divert his train of thought towards the rugby club.
‘Still reelin’ from the goings-on at the rugby club,’ he said as Jenkins poured three cups of tea. ‘Bad business, what? Were the diaries any help? Any clues in the background?’
‘They were fascinating, Sir Hector,’ I said before Lady Hardcastle could reply. ‘It seems to have been a lively place in the past.’
‘It’s a lively place now, m’dear,’ he said with a grin. ‘Quite the liveliest.’
‘But you can’t have any characters to rival Jester Dunleavy,’ I said. ‘He seemed to have been quite a card.’
‘Dear old Jester,’ he said, wistfully. ‘No, I don’t think we’ll see his like again. He’ll be sadly missed.’
‘He’s no longer with us?’ I said.
‘No, poor chap was working at the Hackney Empire when he slipped on something an elephant had deposited on the stage and fell headfirst into the orchestra pit. Head stuck in a euphonium. They rushed him to the hospital, of course, but he’d broken his neck in the fall.’
Lady Hardcastle struggled to contain herself but let out such a bark of laughter that she set me off and soon all three of us were giggling fit to burst.
‘I’m so sorry, Hector,’ she said. ‘I meant no disrespect to your friend’s memory.’
‘Nonsense, m’dear,’ he said, kindly. ‘It’s exactly the reaction he would have wanted. Very fitting that a man who filled the club with so many practical jokes should still be making people laugh even after he’s passed. The inventor of the disappearing cash box and the self-pouring beer tap should be remembered with a laugh or two.’
‘He was quite the inventor, then?’
‘Certainly, certainly. It’s how he made his living. Invented… “gags” he called them… invented gags for stage conjurers. Magic cabinets and whatnot. Jolly clever chap. Best scrum half the club ever had, too.’
‘Magic cabinets?’ said Lady Hardcastle, her interest suddenly piqued. ‘Of the sort that might make things disappear?’
‘Exactly that sort,’ he said, enthusiastically. ‘Once saw him make a lady vanish – vanish completely, mind you – right before me eyes. Man was a genius.’
‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Flo, dear?’ she said.
‘Probably not, my lady,’ I said. ‘I was thinking that I could do with a cabinet like that from time to time.’
It was Sir Hector’s turn to guffaw. ‘Me too, m’dear, what?’
I winked.
‘What I was thinking,’ she continued, affecting to ignore us, ‘was that we ought to get back to the committee room and have another look round.’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Really?’
‘Really,’ she said.
‘I say, said Sir Hector. ‘Would you like to go now? We could go together. I’ll ring for Bert.’
‘I shouldn’t want to put you out, dear. We can easily make our own way.’
‘Nonsense, m’dear. Bored witless here. Nothin’ to do and no one to talk to with Gertie away. Love to get m’teeth into one of your mysteries, what?’
‘Then that would be splendid,’ she said with a smile. ‘Let’s just finish our tea and Mrs Brown’s delicious cakes, and we can trot off and be proper detectives.’
‘What are you lookin’ for?’ asked Sir Hector as Lady Hardcastle peered closely at the trophy cabinet.
‘I’m not entirely sure,’ she said, running her hands over the frame. ‘I’m afraid it’s one of those things I’ll only know when I’ve found it.’
We had been driven back to the pavilion in Sir Hector’s motorcar and he had accompanied us to the committee room, barely able to contain his curiosity. He had been bobbing about, trying to see what Lady Hardcastle was up to as she opened the cabinet, closed it, opened it again, examined the shelves, studied the hinges and the lock, and was now pressing firmly on one of the abstract decorations carved on the front. It seemed to move inwards, but nothing else happened.
Abruptly, she dropped to her knees and then lay on her stomach in front of the cabinet, trying to look underneath it. With an “Ah-ha!” of triumph, she got quickly to her feet and stood once more in front of the cabinet with one hand on the moving decoration, and the toe of her boot in the gap between the cabinet and the floor. She pushed the ornament and moved her foot to one side, and with a click and a rattle the panels at the back of the cabinet began to slide up and out of sight. As they did so, the shelves concealed behind the panels began to slide forwards and there, exactly as I had imagined them from the descriptions, were the shield, jersey, penny and cup. Not stolen, but hidden from view.
‘Well I’ll be blowed,’ said Sir Hector. ‘Fancy that. Not missin’ at all. Here all the time, what?’
‘So it would appear,’ said Lady Hardcastle with a grin that bordered on the indecorously smug.
‘How on earth did you know it was there?’ he asked, puling his reading glasses from his pocket and examining the cabinet for himself.
‘To be absolutely honest,’ she said, ‘I didn’t. Not for certain, at least. When we first saw that the footprints led back into the storeroom, I’d expected to find the loot hidden in there somewhere, but all we found were Lofty’s boots.’
‘Fancy robbin’ his own club,’ said Sir Hector. ‘The bounder.’
Lady Hardcastle said nothing, but instead fiddled once more with the mechanism and once again made the trophies disappear into the wall.