Spider's Web

Sir Rowland made an exclamation of annoyance. "It didn't worry you," he asked the gardener, speaking with feeling, "that Mrs. Hailsham-Brown, a perfectly innocent woman who had done you no harm, would be in danger?"

"I've kept an eye on her, haven't I?" Mrs. Brown replied defensively. "So much so that it annoyed you all sometimes. The other day, when a man came along and offered her a ridiculous price for that desk, I was sure I was on the right track. Yet I'll swear there was nothing in that desk that meant anything at all."

"Did you examine the secret drawer?" Sir Rowland asked her.

Mrs. Brown looked surprised. "A secret drawer, is there?" she exclaimed, moving towards the desk.

Clarissa intercepted her. "There's nothing there now," she assured her. "Pippa found the drawer, but there were only some old autographs in it."

"Clarissa, I'd rather like to see those autographs again," Sir Rowland requested.

Clarissa went to the sofa. "Pippa," she called, "where did you put... ? Oh, she's asleep."

Mrs. Brown moved to the sofa and looked down at the child. "Fast asleep," she confirmed. "It's all the excitement that's done that." She looked at Clarissa. "I'll tell you what," she said, "I'll carry her up and dump her on her bed."

"No," said Sir Rowland sharply.

Everyone looked at him. "She's no weight at all," Mrs. Brown pointed out. "Not a quarter as heavy as the late Mr. Costello."

"All the same," Sir Rowland insisted, "I think she'll be safer here."

The others now all looked at Miss Peake/Mrs. Brown, who took a step backwards, looked around her, and exclaimed indignantly, "Safer?"

"That's what I said," Sir Rowland told her. He glanced around the room and continued, "That child said a very significant thing just now."

He sat down at the bridge table, watched by all. There was a pause, and then Hugo, moving to sit opposite Sir Rowland at the bridge table, asked, "What did she say, Roly?"

"If you all think back," Sir Rowland suggested, "perhaps you'll realise what it was."

His hearers looked at one another, while Sir Rowland picked up the copy of Who's Who and began to consult it.

"I don't get it," Hugo admitted, shaking his head.

"What did Pippa say?" Jeremy wondered aloud.

"I can't imagine," said Clarissa. She tried to cast her mind back. "Something about the policeman? Or dreaming? Coming down here? Half-awake?"

"Come on, Roly," Hugo urged his friend. "Don't be so damned mysterious. What's this all about?"

Sir Rowland looked up from Who's Who. "What?" he asked absent-mindedly. "Oh, yes. Those autographs. Where are they?"

Hugo snapped his fingers. "I believe I remember Pippa putting them in that shell box over there," he recalled.

Jeremy went over to the bookshelves. "Over here?" he asked. Locating the shell box, he took out the envelope. "Yes, quite right. Here we are," he confirmed as he took the autographs from the envelope and handed them to Sir Rowland, who had now closed Who's Who. Jeremy put the empty envelope in his pocket while Sir Rowland examined the autographs with his eyeglass.

"Victoria Regina, God bless her," murmured Sir Rowland, looking at the first of the autographs. "Queen Victoria. Faded brown ink. Now, what's this one? John Ruskin – yes, that's authentic, I should say. And this one? Robert Browning... hm... the paper's not as old as it ought to be."

"Roly! What do you mean?" Clarissa asked excitedly.

"I had some experience of invisible inks and that sort of thing, during the war," Sir Rowland explained. "If you wanted to make a secret note of something, it wouldn't be a bad idea to write it in invisible ink on a sheet of paper, and then fake an autograph. Put that autograph with other genuine autographs and nobody would notice it or look at it twice, probably. Any more than we did."

Mrs. Brown looked puzzled. "But what could Charles Sellon have written which would be worth fourteen thousand pounds?" she wanted to know.

"Nothing at all, dear lady," Sir Rowland replied. "But it occurs to me, you know, that it might have been a question of safety."

"Safety?" Mrs. Brown queried.

"Oliver Costello," Sir Rowland explained, "is suspected of supplying drugs. Sellon, so the Inspector tells us, was questioned once or twice by the Narcotic Squad. There's a connection there, don't you think?"

When Mrs. Brown merely looked blank, he continued, "Of course, it might be just a foolish idea of mine." He looked down at the autograph he was holding. "I don't think it would be anything elaborate on Sellon's part. Lemon juice, perhaps, or a solution of barium chloride. Gentle heat might do the trick. We can always try iodine vapour later. Yes, let's try a little gentle heat first."

He rose to his feet. "Shall we attempt the experiment?"

"There's an electric fire in the library," Clarissa remembered. "Jeremy, will you get it?"

Hugo rose and tucked in his chair, while Jeremy went off to the library.

"We can plug it in here," Clarissa pointed out, indicating a socket in the skirting-board running around the drawing-room.