voice changed, took on a nasal whine, and appeared to come from the side of his mouth; his lips hardly moved. He hunched his shoulders and put his head on one side, and somehow the gay and handsome man was no longer there, instead a scared yet malignant individual looked at Plender out of narrowed eyes.
He stopped; and became himself again.
Plender said; “Exhibitionism. John, listen to me, we were once close friends. The reason we haven’t seen much of each other is not that I know you were the Baron. Personally, I liked the bloke – as the Baron, I mean. But I prefer the legend to the fact. He died – remember?”
Mannering murmured: “And you don’t like his shadow.”
Plender stubbed out his cigarette. There was neither sound nor movement.
“I do not like his shadow,” he agreed at last.
“Why should you? He robbed you.” Mannering smiled without gaiety. He hesitated, and then said deliberately: “That is one thing which makes me want to take a poke at you, Toby. Then we could make up and be friends. I was the Baron and you know it. The Baron did not rob his friends. If you want convincing proof that the Shadow is a shadow and not substance, that’s it”
Plender relaxed.
“No apology,” he said. “I’d just moved. No one was to know that I lived in that house, or that my wife would lose her diamonds. You’re not your own shadow?”
“I am not”
“Not exactly my mistake,” said Plender. “I feared rather than believed it. Ever thought of trying to catch this Shadow, John?”
Mannering eyed him levelly for some seconds, then smiled faintly, lifted the telephone and said: “We’ll have tea now, Sylvester,” and replaced the receiver with great deliberation; and all the time he watched Plender, who didn’t shift his gaze. The receiver went ting. Mannering withdrew his hand, and drummed the fingers gently on the desk.
“Did Bristow send you?” he asked.
3: Mannering Inquires
Plender laughed without answering, Mannering’s smile broadened as he opened a drawer in the desk and took out a manilla folder. It was very like the one which had been on Anderson-Kerr’s desk, but not so well filled. He opened it and turned over the papers inside. Plender watched Mannering, not the papers.
“So Bristow did ask you to look in,” said Mannering.
“If he did, it was forgiving of him.’’
“Sure?” Mannering took out several sheets of paper covered with typewritten notes, and slipped it across the desk. “There’s hardly a job in which the Yard doesn’t need an expert of one kind or another. Bill’s up against the old brick wall. I can go to places where he can’t, and a buyer of jewels will be trusted where a Yard man is always shown the door. In your hand, you hold a note of every job that the Shadow’s done.”
Plender glanced down at it.
“So you’re already working against him.”
“Oh, no,” said Mannering firmly. “I’ve simply made lists of the stolen stuff, to make sure that I don’t buy any, knowingly. It would never do if the Yard thought I was a fence, would it? With one possible exception, this is not a job that makes me want to go after the Shadow.”
“What’s the exception?”
“The theft from Tobias Plender, Q.C. Not that I think he suffered so much, and he’s doubtless done well out of insurance. The Shadow so far has been a polite and gentlemanly thief, catching him is a police job.”
“I thought you were poacher turned gamekeeper.”
“At times,” agreed Mannering. “But I like to think it’s worthwhile. Within these four walls, why should I go after a man for doing almost exactly what I once did myself? It would make me a renegade!” His eyes were gleaming, and Plender looked rueful. “Now if the Shadow suddenly takes to violence, or steps outside his present limits, that would be a different kettle of fish. I – come in, Sylvester.”
There had been the lightest of taps at the door.
Sylvester brought in a tea tray, with the
He stopped; and became himself again.
Plender said; “Exhibitionism. John, listen to me, we were once close friends. The reason we haven’t seen much of each other is not that I know you were the Baron. Personally, I liked the bloke – as the Baron, I mean. But I prefer the legend to the fact. He died – remember?”
Mannering murmured: “And you don’t like his shadow.”
Plender stubbed out his cigarette. There was neither sound nor movement.
“I do not like his shadow,” he agreed at last.
“Why should you? He robbed you.” Mannering smiled without gaiety. He hesitated, and then said deliberately: “That is one thing which makes me want to take a poke at you, Toby. Then we could make up and be friends. I was the Baron and you know it. The Baron did not rob his friends. If you want convincing proof that the Shadow is a shadow and not substance, that’s it”
Plender relaxed.
“No apology,” he said. “I’d just moved. No one was to know that I lived in that house, or that my wife would lose her diamonds. You’re not your own shadow?”
“I am not”
“Not exactly my mistake,” said Plender. “I feared rather than believed it. Ever thought of trying to catch this Shadow, John?”
Mannering eyed him levelly for some seconds, then smiled faintly, lifted the telephone and said: “We’ll have tea now, Sylvester,” and replaced the receiver with great deliberation; and all the time he watched Plender, who didn’t shift his gaze. The receiver went ting. Mannering withdrew his hand, and drummed the fingers gently on the desk.
“Did Bristow send you?” he asked.
3: Mannering Inquires
Plender laughed without answering, Mannering’s smile broadened as he opened a drawer in the desk and took out a manilla folder. It was very like the one which had been on Anderson-Kerr’s desk, but not so well filled. He opened it and turned over the papers inside. Plender watched Mannering, not the papers.
“So Bristow did ask you to look in,” said Mannering.
“If he did, it was forgiving of him.’’
“Sure?” Mannering took out several sheets of paper covered with typewritten notes, and slipped it across the desk. “There’s hardly a job in which the Yard doesn’t need an expert of one kind or another. Bill’s up against the old brick wall. I can go to places where he can’t, and a buyer of jewels will be trusted where a Yard man is always shown the door. In your hand, you hold a note of every job that the Shadow’s done.”
Plender glanced down at it.
“So you’re already working against him.”
“Oh, no,” said Mannering firmly. “I’ve simply made lists of the stolen stuff, to make sure that I don’t buy any, knowingly. It would never do if the Yard thought I was a fence, would it? With one possible exception, this is not a job that makes me want to go after the Shadow.”
“What’s the exception?”
“The theft from Tobias Plender, Q.C. Not that I think he suffered so much, and he’s doubtless done well out of insurance. The Shadow so far has been a polite and gentlemanly thief, catching him is a police job.”
“I thought you were poacher turned gamekeeper.”
“At times,” agreed Mannering. “But I like to think it’s worthwhile. Within these four walls, why should I go after a man for doing almost exactly what I once did myself? It would make me a renegade!” His eyes were gleaming, and Plender looked rueful. “Now if the Shadow suddenly takes to violence, or steps outside his present limits, that would be a different kettle of fish. I – come in, Sylvester.”
There had been the lightest of taps at the door.
Sylvester brought in a tea tray, with the
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