him?'
Mallory shrugged. 'He certainly wasn't visible. No, I don't think he'd take that kind of risk. If he is behind Souvorin's disappearance, he'll have shipped him north by some other route. I'm certain of that.'
'And if he is there, how do we prove it? If this place is as isolated as you say it is, I'd stick out like a sore thumb.'
'I've taken care of that,' Mallory said, 'and rather ingeniously, though I do say it myself. There's a small estate about ten miles from Donner's place, called Ardmurchan Lodge. A five-year lease was offered a month ago with three thousand acres of deer forest adjoining Donner's property so I snapped it up and dug a friend of mine out of retirement to play tenant, an old M.I.5 man, Colonel Duncan Craig. He's seventy if he's a day. Officially he'll be your uncle.'
'And what am I supposed to be doing there?'
'You'll be on vacation. Lecturer in French Literature at the University of Essex. I've fixed the whole thing up officially. As a matter of fact, they're expecting you to start in October.'
'Presumably Craig's been nosing around up there already?'
'Not really, although he has sent us some useful information. He's an old man, remember. Active for his age, but still an old man. I was hoping he might strike up an acquaintance with Donner, but it hasn't worked out. He's met him three or four times. Apparently, Donner's always perfectly civil, but hasn't handed out any invitations to Glenmore House.'
'Then how do I get in?'
Mallory held up the photo of Donner and his stepdaughter. 'There's always the girl.'
Chavasse frowned. 'How?'
'Wait and see.' Mallory pressed a buzzer on his desk.
A moment later, the door opened and Peggy Ryan entered. She moved to the desk, a slight, calm smile on her face. 'You wanted me, Mr. Mallory?'
'Yes, Peggy. Tell Mr. Chavasse about Asta Svensson.'
Peggy turned to face him. 'I was enrolled at the University of Stockholm at the beginning of last term, ostensibly as an exchange student.'
'The idea being to cultivate Asta Svensson's acquaintance?'
She nodded. 'She's a nice girl, Mr. Chavasse. We became great friends.'
'What about Donner? How does she get on with him?'
'I think she's a little afraid of him. He visited her twice while I was there. Nothing's too good for her as far as he's concerned. He's taking her on a tour of the Far East this vacation.'
'When do they leave?'
'He's joining Asta in Stockholm ten days from now. They're to fly from there.' She smiled. 'He's in for a surprise, though.'
'What do you mean?'
'This place of his in Scotland--Asta's never been. Apparently he's always fobbed her off with grimy old Nice or Cannes or somewhere instead.'
'So she's decided to take the law into her own hands?'
'If she hasn't changed her plans since I left her four days ago, she should be flying in to Glasgow tomorrow morning. She intends to carry on from there by train and arrive unannounced. Poor kid--I hope she makes out all right.'
'You liked her, didn't you?'
'A lot better than her step-father. He's the kind of man who smiles with his face only, never with his eyes.'
'And you don't think she's mixed up in his affairs?'
Peggy shook her head firmly. 'Not a chance.'
Chavasse nodded. 'All right, Peggy. Thanks.'
The Irish girl looked at Mallory who nodded. She moved to the door, opened it and turned with a smile. 'And Mr. Chavasse, I don't know just how susceptible you are, but I'd better warn you. I don't think you've ever seen anything in a skirt that could be an improvement on Asta Svensson.'
The door closed before he could reply. Mallory chuckled and took several more photos out of the folder. 'Better have a look at these, Paul. I think you'll see what she means.'
Chavasse only needed to look at the first one to see what three years had done to the child in the bikini. She gazed out at him calmly, lips slightly parted, the hair, so blonde that it was almost white, hanging to her shoulders. She was standing on a sand dune, the sea behind
Mallory shrugged. 'He certainly wasn't visible. No, I don't think he'd take that kind of risk. If he is behind Souvorin's disappearance, he'll have shipped him north by some other route. I'm certain of that.'
'And if he is there, how do we prove it? If this place is as isolated as you say it is, I'd stick out like a sore thumb.'
'I've taken care of that,' Mallory said, 'and rather ingeniously, though I do say it myself. There's a small estate about ten miles from Donner's place, called Ardmurchan Lodge. A five-year lease was offered a month ago with three thousand acres of deer forest adjoining Donner's property so I snapped it up and dug a friend of mine out of retirement to play tenant, an old M.I.5 man, Colonel Duncan Craig. He's seventy if he's a day. Officially he'll be your uncle.'
'And what am I supposed to be doing there?'
'You'll be on vacation. Lecturer in French Literature at the University of Essex. I've fixed the whole thing up officially. As a matter of fact, they're expecting you to start in October.'
'Presumably Craig's been nosing around up there already?'
'Not really, although he has sent us some useful information. He's an old man, remember. Active for his age, but still an old man. I was hoping he might strike up an acquaintance with Donner, but it hasn't worked out. He's met him three or four times. Apparently, Donner's always perfectly civil, but hasn't handed out any invitations to Glenmore House.'
'Then how do I get in?'
Mallory held up the photo of Donner and his stepdaughter. 'There's always the girl.'
Chavasse frowned. 'How?'
'Wait and see.' Mallory pressed a buzzer on his desk.
A moment later, the door opened and Peggy Ryan entered. She moved to the desk, a slight, calm smile on her face. 'You wanted me, Mr. Mallory?'
'Yes, Peggy. Tell Mr. Chavasse about Asta Svensson.'
Peggy turned to face him. 'I was enrolled at the University of Stockholm at the beginning of last term, ostensibly as an exchange student.'
'The idea being to cultivate Asta Svensson's acquaintance?'
She nodded. 'She's a nice girl, Mr. Chavasse. We became great friends.'
'What about Donner? How does she get on with him?'
'I think she's a little afraid of him. He visited her twice while I was there. Nothing's too good for her as far as he's concerned. He's taking her on a tour of the Far East this vacation.'
'When do they leave?'
'He's joining Asta in Stockholm ten days from now. They're to fly from there.' She smiled. 'He's in for a surprise, though.'
'What do you mean?'
'This place of his in Scotland--Asta's never been. Apparently he's always fobbed her off with grimy old Nice or Cannes or somewhere instead.'
'So she's decided to take the law into her own hands?'
'If she hasn't changed her plans since I left her four days ago, she should be flying in to Glasgow tomorrow morning. She intends to carry on from there by train and arrive unannounced. Poor kid--I hope she makes out all right.'
'You liked her, didn't you?'
'A lot better than her step-father. He's the kind of man who smiles with his face only, never with his eyes.'
'And you don't think she's mixed up in his affairs?'
Peggy shook her head firmly. 'Not a chance.'
Chavasse nodded. 'All right, Peggy. Thanks.'
The Irish girl looked at Mallory who nodded. She moved to the door, opened it and turned with a smile. 'And Mr. Chavasse, I don't know just how susceptible you are, but I'd better warn you. I don't think you've ever seen anything in a skirt that could be an improvement on Asta Svensson.'
The door closed before he could reply. Mallory chuckled and took several more photos out of the folder. 'Better have a look at these, Paul. I think you'll see what she means.'
Chavasse only needed to look at the first one to see what three years had done to the child in the bikini. She gazed out at him calmly, lips slightly parted, the hair, so blonde that it was almost white, hanging to her shoulders. She was standing on a sand dune, the sea behind
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