Chapter Eight

MR. LEO SAVOYAN

MANNERING had a shock when he saw how Collyn had aged. His strong face was lined, his grey eyes seemed sunken, haggard. Whether it was the shock of realising the possibility of Gerald’s association with crime, the actual losses, or some personal tragedy, Mannering had no idea. But he was compelled to admit that opposite him, as the grey light of dawn lightened the lounge where Collyn had spent the night, was a man looking nearer seventy than sixty – Collyn was fifty-nine.

Collyn had opened the door to his ring, for none of the servants were up. Mannering shook hands, hesitated, stepped to a side cabinet. It was a beautifully carved walnut piece, and on the panels were raised carvings of horses at full gallop. Everything in the room was redolent of the peer’s love for the turf.

‘I think you could do with a drink, Collyn. Whisky or brandy?’

‘Eh—oh, don’t worry about me, I’m all right. I don’t know why you should take this interest, but as you’ve come, I—I’d appreciate your advice. It is an incredible situation.’

‘I don’t know.’ Mannering poured out a finger of whisky, half filled the glass with soda-water, and handed it to the older man. ‘It may have a simple explanation, and there certainly isn’t any need to assume the worst.’ His smile and his show of confidence helped Collyn to look better, the colour came back to his cheeks. ‘It’s possible that Savoyan has taken advantage of Gerry, but, on the other hand, a night out for a youngster is hardly a sensation. Or it wasn’t in our young days!’

‘No. I am too fussy, I can see that.’ Collyn related Brenda’s story about Gerald’s recent late nights. ‘So it’s something more than a night on the tiles,’ Collyn ended up. ‘Savoyan might well be responsible.’

‘Are you determined not to ask the Yard’s help?’ inquired Mannering.

For a moment Collyn was as decisive as Mannering had always known him. His voice grew stronger, and he stepped to the whisky and poured out another peg.

‘Of course. This Baron is a public figure. Any explanation of his thefts here would be in the public eye, and it would be impossible to keep publicity from Gerald. I won’t have that if it’s avoidable. I’ve only fears and suspicions about Gerald and this man, and there’s no reason why I should share them with the police yet.’ He drank the whisky neat, and his eyes met Mannering’s.

‘The first job is to find Gerry,’ said Mannering. ‘Then if he admits he’s been involved, we can decide about Savoyan and the police. The one possibility that you may have overlooked is that Gerry might be in danger.’

Collyn stared. ‘How?’

‘Supposing he knows that Savoyan has been a party to the thefts? And supposing Savoyan is very anxious that the police don’t know of it. What is likely to happen?’

‘You’re not suggesting Gerry might be—killed?’

‘I wouldn’t put it as high as that, but Savoyan may be determined to make it impossible for him to incriminate him.’

‘I don’t understand you, Mannering. How could he, without doing him some injury?’

‘By making him incriminate himself,’ said Mannering grimly. ‘It has been done before. We’re working entirely on premise, Collyn, but it’s entirely possible. Are you still opposed to going to the police?’

‘What do you advise?’

‘I can only leave it to you,’ said Mannering.

For at least a minute there was silence between them. Mannering tried to envisage the possibility that Savoyan was a party to the James Street thefts, and therefore, to the man or men who were masquerading as the Baron. That, too, was a long way from established, but the possibility could not be denied.

Collyn’s voice was sharp when he did speak.

‘Are you prepared to look for Gerald? I know that you’ve helped others – young Halliwell, for instance, when Kingley was murdered. And you know the police, and some of their methods. I’m sure you could help. Will you?’

This was the first time that Mannering had been asked to play the part of an unofficial detective – a new epoch had begun, although he did not know it. His lips curved when he realised that he was gaining a reputation both for and against the law.

Collyn saw the smile, the glint in Mannering’s eyes, and associated them with his quiet: ‘I’ll be glad to.’

‘I am deeply grateful,’ Collyn said. ‘The last thing I want to do is to go to the police. How will you set about it?’

‘By finding Savoyan.’

‘Can you?’

‘If he can be found,’ said Mannering confidently.

He refused Collyn’s offer of an early breakfast, and went back to Brook Street. It was half past six, and he had not slept since seven o’clock the previous morning. To try to find Savoyan, or anyone else, would be madness while he was as tired as he felt; but he could start one or two enquiries.

He telephoned Flick Leverson, one of the shrewdest fences in London, who had bought most of the Baron’s hauls. Between Mannering and Leverson there had grown a friendship which both men prized: they were aware of each other’s true vocations, there was no need for them to fence.

‘No,’ Leverson said, his pleasant voice giving no hint that he had been brought from bed. ‘I don’t know the name, but I will make enquiries. Savoyan, you say? Do you know his Christian name?’

‘All I know is that he frequently goes to Panelli’s.’

“Very well. Now what about you? I’ve been expecting to hear from you.’

‘I haven’t been conducting any business,’ said Mannering rather heavily. ‘The Press campaign isn’t justified.’

‘What do you say?’

‘But it’s obviously been persuasive.’

‘But good gracious, haven’t you been active?’

‘Not once.’

‘Well, I’ll be damned!’ exclaimed Leverson. ‘I thought you had been working, and couldn’t understand why you didn’t come to me. This could be a bad break for you, couldn’t it?’

‘I’ll come over and tell you just how bad when I’ve got an hour to spare,’ promised Mannering. ‘Meanwhile, Savoyan might be connected with the crimes. I’m particularly anxious to find him.’

‘I will get busy right away. And if I see any of the other stuff I’ll let you know.’

‘That’s another thing I want to talk about,’ said Mannering. He knew that it was probable that the stolen gems had been sold to the receivers, that Leverson was likely to have some through his hands. He had not contacted with the fence so as to fool the police, but now that the issue had been forced he had to take advantage of all his old associations.

He explained exactly what he wanted, and Leverson rang off. Mannering next called Toby Plender, at the solicitor’s Mayfair flat. Plender allowed it to be known that he disapproved of being called at seven o’clock.

‘I’m beginning to understand why the legal mind gets rigid so early in life,’ Mannering said. ‘If you’ve finished theorising about last night there’s a job you can do for me. Will you?’

He was by no means sure how Plender would take this news – and it was tantamount to that – that Mannering and the Baron were one and the same. The solicitor’s reaction after a few hours reflection was likely to be very different from his first thoughts on the previous night.

‘Providing it’s legal,’ Plender said, and added: ‘I’m prepared to assume everyone innocent until he’s proved guilty, you know.’

‘In short, no change of relationship,’ Mannering said gratefully.

‘None.’

‘I don’t know whether I have to thank you or Mary,’ admitted Mannering feelingly, ‘but I won’t forget it. I have a faint chance of finding something about the Collyn job. It concerns a man named Savoyan, a patron of Panelli’s. Does it mean anything to you?’

‘I’m a married man,’ said Plender. ‘I do not patronise Panelli’s.’

‘He has a criminal past,’ retorted Mannering.

‘I don’t recall the name, but I’ll try to find what I can. You don’t want me to say who’s enquiring, do you?’

‘No thanks. How’s Mary?’

‘Asleep, I hope – haven’t you been to bed?’

‘I’m just going.’

‘These ne’er-do-wells!’ grumbled Plender, and rang off.

Satisfied that there was a chance of getting information in the next few hours, Mannering slipped into pyjamas, and between the sheets. He was asleep at half past seven … and still sleeping while Mr. Leo Savoyan and Miss Chloe Renkle were discussing the immediate future of Gerry Collyn.

Savoyan placed a cigarette in an amber holder, pressed a long, delicate-looking forefinger on a lighter, lit his cigarette, and all the time kept his veiled eyes on Chloe. They were large, brown eyes, with lashes that swept on his olive-skinned cheeks, and the most arresting feature in a long, forceful face which declared its owner’s intelligence. Yet his appearance was spoiled by the very small, thin mouth.

Savoyan was still dressed in evening clothes, and looked as immaculate as he had at Panelli’s. He was standing in front of the woman, with his feet planted firmly on a thick mohair rug, in a room where the contemporary furniture clashed with the solid oak panels and the high ceiling.

Chloe Renkle, the brunette Mannering had seen, was leaning back on a tapestry-covered armchair. Although her heavily-shaded blue eyes seemed heavy with sleep there was an alertness about her. The close-fitting satin dress had been designed to exaggerate a good figure. Her hair, waved and glossy and luxuriant, was ornamented by a small diamond tiara, a testament to her vanity and love of jewels, which she wore discreetly.

She had shaken her shoes off, and the toe of one stocking was laddered. She looked down at it.

‘Well, I got him for you, didn’t I?’

‘As ever, my dear Chloe, you carried out orders perfectly,’ said Savoyan suavely. ‘As far as they’ve gone. Unfortunately Collyn remains a problem.’ His lips curled, and because of his small mouth gave a peculiar, unnatural twist to his long face. ‘Directly he finds that his father has lost the Chentz diamonds, he will be troublesome. Don’t you think so?’

‘He’s an obstinate little brute,’ said Chloe. ‘All the same, you can’t kill him.’

‘Murder is the last thing I would suggest,’ murmured Savoyan.

‘You don’t have to keep that up with me,’ said Chloe. ‘You would do murder tomorrow if you weren’t afraid of being found out. Why didn’t you leave him to me, and let me disappear after it was finished?’

‘There are so many things you don’t know,’ said Savoyan.

‘There isn’t any need for sarcasm, either!’

‘To put it diplomatically, we are drifting towards a misunderstanding, my dear. I felt it necessary to see young Collyn, and talk with him while he was drunk. It is also necessary that he knows me—er—shall I say for what I am?’

Chloe kicked viciously at a shoe, sending it close to the man’s foot. He righted it thoughtfully as she snapped: ‘I wish I knew what you were getting at.’

‘All in good time, my pet. Aren’t we losing unnecessary sleep? Collyn is here in your flat, and quite convincingly compromised. It will be several hours before he wakes up. It’s a mistake not to initiate a boy into the niceties of mixing his drinks, I think old Collyn should be warned that his son wants training, as well as his horses.’

‘You told me you wanted him, I got him, and that’s as far as I’ll go,’ said Chloe doggedly. ‘I’m not responsible for anything that happens afterwards.’

‘Let me try to explain.’ Savoyan’s veiled eyes had narrowed, and there was a threat in his manner despite the silkiness of his voice. ‘Out of your cupidity you have helped me in several felonies which have resulted in our unbreakable association. You can hardly back out now – unless you care to have your recent activities disclosed to the police.’

‘So …’ Her unnaturally bright eyes were widened. ‘You would turn me in, would you?’

‘Not unless you forced me into it. Don’t get angry, pet, it will do no good, and you’re tired as it is. The facts are so unmistakable – shall I say inevitable? You will continue to do what I ask.’ There was a suggestion of coarseness in his voice; for a moment the mask of well-bred nonchalance slipped away, and Chloe looked into coldly calculating brown eyes. ‘I want Collyn where I want him, too, with your help.’

The woman kept staring at him.

‘Obstinacy will help neither of you. On the understanding that you would help young Collyn to trace the first thieves at James Street, you persuaded him to let you search through his father’s study yesterday afternoon, when you made an impression of the strong-room keys. Very neat.’

‘You needn’t blarney me,’ said Chloe more slowly. ‘I told you I would do that, and I’d keep Gerry out of the way for the night. When you have what you want, you have to come to the club …’

‘With the Chentz diamonds in my pocket,’ smiled Savoyan. ‘What irony for our young friend! When he hears of the theft, he will jump to a conclusion not nice for you. And he will wonder whether I was implicated. A normal reaction for him would be to make a clean breast of the affair to his father. There would be a search for you. But as your name is fictitious and your appearance so easily varied, it is hardly a threat.’

‘You’re talking too much.’

‘I’m emphasising the delicacy of your position should you try to be difficult, Chloe my pet.’

Chloe sat up, slowly, pressing her hands against her forehead.

‘I’ll have to go through with it, I suppose,’ she muttered.

‘That’s my girl!’ He patted her bare shoulder. ‘You will let Gerald talk, admitting how badly you deceived him. You will blame me, and implore his help to extricate yourself from my influence. The young gallant will fall for that, as others have fallen. When you’ve wooed him in the right frame of mind, let him go home.’

‘What then?’

‘You can safely leave him to me,’ said Savoyan.

He left the Westminster flat ten minutes afterwards, while Chloe looked into the room where Gerry was lying in a drunken stupor. It was small and windowless, called ‘dressing-room’ by the agents, and once the door was locked there was no fear of anyone escaping. Practised in the art of appealing to anyone young and foolish, she had little doubt that she could enlist his sympathies and ensure his silence. But why was it necessary?

She had always suspected Savoyan to be a more evil man than he pretended. She was sure of it now. The pressure he had exerted to ensure her help enraged her, but she could not safely defy him.

She was by no means sure that she wanted to. Association with him meant easy money, servants, luxury; she was naturally indolent, had no profession, and no independent income. Living on the generosity of middle-aged or old men whom she enamoured for a while had lost all its attractions.

She locked the door, and went into her bedroom.

While Leo Savoyan, feeling supremely sure of himself and satisfied with developments, went by road in a Railton to a small, detached house in Kensington. Before going to bed, he wrote a brief message in code and addressed the envelope to:

M’sieu Anton Corbertes,

78 Rue de Loren,

Boulogne, France.