Spider's Web

Clarissa shuddered. "There was no danger of that," she replied. Then, smiling tenderly, "If I lost my heart to anybody, darling, it would be to you," she assured him.

"Now, now, none of your tricks with me," Sir Rowland warned her, laughing. "If you – "

He stopped short as Henry Hailsham-Brown suddenly entered the room through the French windows, and Clarissa gave a startled exclamation. "Henry!"

"Hello, Roly," Henry greeted his friend. "I thought you were going to the club tonight."

"Well... er... I thought I'd turn in early," was all that Sir Rowland felt capable of saying at that moment. "It's been rather a strenuous evening."

Henry looked at the bridge table. "What? Strenuous bridge?" he inquired playfully.

Sir Rowland smiled. "Bridge and... er... other things," he replied as he went to the hall door. "Good night, all."

Clarissa blew him a kiss and he blew one to her in return as he left the room. Then Clarissa turned to Henry. "Where's Kalendorff – I mean, where's Mr. Jones?" she asked urgently.

Henry put his brief-case on the sofa. In a voice of weary disgust he muttered, "It's absolutely infuriating. He didn't come."

"What?" Clarissa could hardly believe her ears.

"The plane arrived with nothing but a half-baked aide-de-camp in it," Henry told her, unbuttoning his overcoat as he spoke.

Clarissa helped him off with the coat, and Henry continued, "The first thing he did was to turn round and fly back again where he'd come from."

"What on earth for?"

"How do I know?" Understandably, Henry sounded somewhat on edge. "He was suspicious, it seems. Suspicious of what? Who knows?"

"But what about Sir John?" Clarissa asked as she removed Henry's hat from his head.

"That's the worst of it," he groaned. "I was too late to stop him, and he'll be arriving down here any minute now, I expect." Henry consulted his watch. "Of course, I rang up Downing Street at once from the aerodrome, but he'd already started out. Oh, the whole thing's a most ghastly fiasco."

Henry sank onto the sofa with a weary sigh, and as he did so the telephone rang. "I'll answer it," Clarissa said, crossing the room to do so. "It may be the police." She lifted the receiver.

Henry looked at her questioningly. "The police?"

"Yes, this is Copplestone Court," Clarissa was saying into the telephone. "Yes... yes, he's here." She looked across at Henry. "It's for you, darling," she told him. "It's Bindley Heath Aerodrome."

Henry rose and began to rush across to the phone, but half-way over he stopped and proceeded at a dignified walk. "Hello," he said into the receiver.

Clarissa went out to the hall with Henry's hat and coat but returned immediately and stood behind him.

"Yes... speaking," Henry announced. "What?... Ten minutes later?... Shall I?... Yes... Yes, yes... No... No, no... You have?... I see... Yes... Right."

He replaced the receiver, shouted "Clarissa!" and then turned to find that she was right behind him. "Oh! There you are. Apparently another plane came in just ten minutes after the first, and Kalendorff was on it."

"Mr. Jones, you mean," Clarissa reminded him.

"Quite right, darling. One can't be too careful," he acknowledged. "Yes, it seems that the first plane was a kind of security precaution. Really, one can't fathom how these people's minds work. Well, anyway, they're sending... er... Mr. Jones over here now with an escort. He'll be here in about a quarter of an hour. Now then, is everything all right? Everything in order?" He looked at the bridge table. "Do get rid of those cards, will you, darling?"

Clarissa hurriedly collected the cards and markers and put them out of sight, while Henry went to the stool and picked up the sandwich plate and mousse dish with an air of great surprise. "What's on earth's this?" he wanted to know.

Rushing over to him, Clarissa seized the plate and dish. "Pippa was eating it," she explained. "I'll take it away. And I'd better go and make some more ham sandwiches."

"Not yet – these chairs are all over the place." Henry's tone was slightly reproachful. "I thought you were going to have everything ready, Clarissa."

He began to fold the legs of the bridge table. "What have you been doing all the evening?" he asked her as he carried the bridge table off to the library.

Clarissa was now busy pushing chairs around. "Oh, Henry," she exclaimed, "it's been the most terribly exciting evening. You see, I came in here with some sandwiches soon after you left, and the first thing that happened was I fell over a body. There..." She pointed. "Behind the sofa."

"Yes, yes, darling," Henry muttered absent-mindedly, as he helped her push the easy chair into its usual position. "Your stories are always enchanting, but really there isn't time now."