The Layton Court Mystery · Chapter 3 (2/2)

A woman who was bending over something on the farther side of the room straightened hastily at their approach. It was Mrs. Plant, and the object over which she had been bending was a large safe that stood by the wall close to the little typewriting table. Roger had just had time to see that she was feverishly twisting the knob before she had sprung up on hearing their footsteps.

She faced them with heaving bosom and horrified eyes, one hand clutching the folds of her frock, the other clenched at her side. It was obvious that she was frightened almost out of her wits.

“Were you looking for anything?” Roger asked politely, and cursed himself for the banality of the words even as he spoke them.

With a tremendous effort Mrs. Plant appeared to pull herself together.

“My jewels,” she muttered jerkily. “I asked⁠—Mr. Stanworth to⁠—to lock them in his safe the other day. I⁠—I was wondering⁠—would the police take them? I thought it might be better if I⁠—”

“That’s all right, Mrs. Plant,” said Roger soothingly, breaking in upon her painful utterances. “The police wouldn’t take them in any case, I expect; and you can easily identify what is yours. They’ll be safe enough, I assure you.”

A little colour was coming slowly back into her cheeks and her breathing was becoming less rapid.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Sheringham,” she said more easily. “It was absurd of me, no doubt, but they’re rather valuable, and I had a sudden panic about them. Of course I ought not to have tried to take them myself. I can’t think what I can have been doing!” She laughed nervously. “Really, I’m positively ashamed of myself. You won’t give me away for being so foolish, will you?”

There was a note of urgent appeal in the last sentence that belied the lightness of the words.

Roger smiled reassuringly. “Of course not,” he said promptly. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Oh, thank you so much. I know I can rely on you. And on Mr. Grierson, too. Well, I suppose I’d better run away before anyone else catches me here.”

She made her way out of the room, carefully averting her eyes from the chair by the writing table.

Roger turned to Alec and whistled softly.

“Now what did she want to lie like that for?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

“Do you think she was lying?” Alec asked in puzzled tones. “I should have said that Mrs. Plant was as straight as they make ’em.”

Roger shrugged his shoulders in mock despair. “And so should I! That’s what makes it all the more extraordinary. Yet of course she was lying. Like a trooper! And so ridiculously! Her story’s bound to be disproved as soon as the safe is opened. She must have said the first thing that came into her head. Alec, my son, there’s something damned queer going on here! Mrs. Plant isn’t the only one who’s lying. Come out into the garden and listen to the duplicity of Jefferson.”