Folly Du Jour

Finally George spoke up. ‘You’re right, Amélie, so we must assume that she, in fact, is not in any danger. She’s a calculating woman. Always comes out on top. I admire her for it. Wouldn’t want to see a woman of her quality humiliated by the likes of this pair of hounds, in fact. And, to look at this positively – of whom exactly does she have to be afraid? I think she’s been pulling the wool over your eyes, you fellows. Her Zouave? Saved his life, did you say? Well, there you are! Sounds like an eternal ally to me. He was probably waiting for her on the street corner. Seen this with the roughest, toughest fellows you can imagine in India – give their lives to protect the Memsahib.’

Bluster, Joe thought with a stab of pity. Even Amélie looked away, uneasy.

‘And her other nightmare is, as she and you would have it – my cousin. My cousin! Little Jackie. No, he’s a good fellow. Self-opinionated, over-active, too clever by half and something of a bounder in his early years but – by God! – the man’s a gentleman!’ He thought intensely for a moment and added: ‘I think you’ll probably recognize me in that description? And you’re right. He’s very like me, you know. Do you seriously believe I would go about taking orders for bespoke crimes?’ He put on the unctuous tones of a Savile Row assistant: ‘“And does Sir have a style in mind? We can offer the assisted leap from the Eiffel Tower, the dagger in the ribs at the Garrick, and, on special offer this week, blood-letting in the Louvre? A snip at two and six!”’

‘I understand, sir, that you have met your cousin at long intervals . . . people change . . . similar men may have just one slight distinction which sends them spi

George considered this. ‘Balderdash!’ he concluded. ‘Psychological piffle! Fiction! This is real life we’re considering.’

‘But real death also, George,’ murmured Madame Bo

‘Amélie,’ he said. ‘My coat! Only one way to settle this. I’ll go and find Jackie and ask him.’ Catching her dismay, he hesitated and then added gently, ‘But not, perhaps, before we’ve sampled the navarin d’agneau printanier. I’ve put a bottle of Gigondas to breathe. Hope that was all right?’

‘Perfect! But, listen! It’s a stew. It will reheat beautifully,’ she said comfortably. ‘Tomorrow, or later this evening. Just come home for it. All of you.’

Chapter Twenty-Seven

‘Sir George! At last! Welcome, sir. How good to see you out and about again . . . Gentlemen . . .’

Beneath Harry Quantock’s bluff greeting Joe sensed a trickle of tension flowing.

‘To see Pollock? Well, of course . . . and yes, he is in the building at the moment. Um . . . look – why don’t you come along to his study and wait for him there? I’ll have him paged. He’s upstairs in the salon dancing attendance on the Ambassador’s lady. Actually,’ he confided, ‘this could be rather a bad moment. They’re just about to take off for the opera. His Excellency can’t abide the opera so John usually undertakes escort duties. Are you quite certain this can’t wait?’ Oh, very well . . .’

They went to wait in the study, choosing to stare at the cricket photographs rather than catch each other’s eye. George was looking confident, in his element. Bo

Pollock swept in a few minutes later, handsome in evening dress. He surprised Joe by heading at once for George, who had risen to his feet, and enveloping him in a hug. The two men muttered and exclaimed together for a while, holding each other at arm’s length to verify that, yes, both were looking in the pink of good health and Paris was obviously agreeing with them.

He turned his attention to Joe and Bo

‘I’m sorry to disrupt your evening, Pollock . . .’ Joe began.

‘So you should be!’ he replied with an easy grin. ‘I’m just off to hear René Maison singing in Der Rosenkavalier. A first for me – do you know it?’

‘Yes, indeed. Charming entertainment. Full of disguises, deceit and skulduggery of one sort or another. The police dash in and solve all the problems in the end, I recall. I think you’ll like it.’

George threw him a withering glance and took up the reins. ‘We have a problem, Jackie. Or rather, these two Keystone Cops have a problem. Which you can solve. I want you to tell them you’re not a degenerate and a multiple murderer.’

‘I beg your pardon? I say, George, old man . . . what is going on? I really do have to rush off, you know. Look – can you all come back and play tomorrow?’ He looked uneasily over his shoulder, hearing a party forming up in the foyer.

‘I’m afraid it’s no joke, Pollock,’ said Joe. ‘A certain accusation has been made . . .’ He abandoned the police phrasing. ‘Alice Conyers has shopped you. She’s told us everything. Her – your – organization has been shot to pieces, literally, while you’ve been sipping sherry and humming arias in Her Excellency’s ear. It’s over. The crew in the boulevard du Montparnasse are stretched out either in the morgue or on a hospital bed.’

Pollock tugged at his starched collar and sank on to a chair. ‘Alice?’ he murmured. ‘Is she all right?’

‘Right as rain. Not much looking forward to seeing you again. But she’s gone off into the night – armed.’

‘You know Alice, Jackie?’ George was unbelieving.

‘Yes. ’Fraid I do! Oh, my Lord, I knew all this would catch up with me! Never thought it would be you, old man, who brought the blade down on me, though. I say – is there any way of keeping this under our hats?’ He looked anxiously at the door again. ‘I wouldn’t like His Excellency to find out his aide is a bit of a bounder.’ He gri

Bo

He got to his feet in disgust.

Joe joined him, shoulder to shoulder.

‘No joke, Pollock,’ he said stiffly. ‘Alice has told us how you took over her business and turned it sour. Used it as a base for a very hideous assassination bureau. I don’t think you were involved in any way in the Louvre murder – except as a man casually caught up by circumstances – but I do believe that you learned from that episode . . . were inspired by it . . . recognized there a service that was not supplied by anyone else. You could name your fee. No client could complain about the outcome without condemning himself. Absolute security. You became Set.’