“I guarantee the Aztec won’t leave without you, my lady,” the inspector said smoothly. He glanced at the porters and said: “You can put those down for a minute, lads.” He turned back to Augusta. “Mr. Pilaster here claims you have in your possession some very valuable snuffboxes that belong to him. Is that so?”
She began to look less alarmed — which puzzled Hugh. It worried him, too: he was afraid she might have something up her sleeve. “I don’t see why I should answer such impertinent questions,” she said arrogantly.
“If you don’t, I shall have to look through your bags.”
“Very well, I do have the snuffboxes,” she said. “But they belong to me. They were my husband’s.”
The inspector turned to Hugh. “What do you say to that, Mr. Pilaster?”
“They were her husband’s, but he left them to his son Edward Pilaster; and Edward’s possessions are forfeit to the bank. Lady Whitehaven is trying to steal them.”
The inspector said: “I must ask you both to come to the police station while these allegations are investigated.”
Augusta looked panicky. “But I can’t miss my sailing!”
“In that case, the only thing I can suggest is that you leave the disputed property in the care of the police. It will be returned to you if your claims are verified.”
Augusta hesitated. Hugh knew it would break her heart to part with so much wealth. But surely she could see it was inevitable? She had been caught red-handed and she was lucky she was not going to jail.
“Where are the snuffboxes, my lady?” said the inspector.
Hugh waited.
Augusta pointed to a suitcase. “They’re all in there.”
“The key, please?”
Again she hesitated; again she gave in. She took out a small ring of luggage keys, selected one, and handed it over.
The inspector opened the case. It was full of shoe bags. Augusta pointed to one of the bags. The inspector opened it and drew out a light wooden cigar box. He lifted the lid to reveal numerous small objects carefully wrapped in paper. Selecting one at random, he unwrapped it. It was a small gold box inlaid with diamond chips in the design of a lizard.
Hugh let out a long sigh of relief.
The inspector looked at Hugh. “Do you know how many there should be, sir?”
Everyone in the family did. “Sixty-five,” said Hugh. “One for every year of Uncle Joseph’s life.”
“Would you like to count them?”
Augusta said: “They’re all there.”
Hugh counted them anyway. There were sixty-five. He began to feel the pleasure of victory.
The inspector took the box and passed it to another policeman. “If you would like to go with Constable Neville to the police station, he will give you an official receipt for the goods, my lady.”
“Send it to the bank,” she said. “May I go now?”
Hugh was uneasy. Augusta was disappointed, but not devastated. It was almost as if there was something else she was worried about, something more important to her than the snuffboxes. And where was Micky Miranda?
The inspector bowed, and Augusta went out, followed by her three heavily laden porters.
“Thank you very much, Inspector,” said Hugh. “I’m only sorry you didn’t catch Miranda as well.”
“We will, sir. He won’t get aboard the Aztec unless he’s learned how to fly.”
The guard from the luggage van came along the platform pushing a wheelchair. He stopped in front of Hugh and the inspector and said: “Now what am I supposed to do with this?”
“What’s the problem?” the inspector said patiently.
“That woman with all the luggage and the bird on her hat.”
“Lady Whitehaven, yes.”
“She was with an old gent at Waterloo. Puts him in a first-class compartment and then asks me to take the bath chair in the luggage van. Glad to oblige, says L Gets off at Southampton and pretends she don’t know what I’m talking about. ‘You must have mistaken me for somebody else,’ she goes. ‘Not likely — there’s only one hat like that,’ says I.”
Hugh said: “That’s right — the cabbie said she was with a man in a wheelchair … and there was an old fellow in the compartment with her.”
“There you are,” the guard said triumphantly.
The inspector suddenly lost his avuncular air and rounded on Hugh. “Did you see the old man pass through the ticket barrier?”
“No, I didn’t. And I looked at every passenger. Aunt Augusta was the last.” Then it hit him. “Good God! Do you think it was Micky Miranda in disguise?”
“Yes, I do. But where is he now? Could he have got off at an earlier stop?”
The guard said: “No — it’s an express train, nonstop from Waterloo to Southampton.”
“Then we’ll search the train. He must be on it still.”
But he was not.
THE AZTEC WAS FESTOONED with colored lanterns and paper streamers. The Christmas party was in full swing when Augusta boarded: a band played on the main deck, and passengers in evening dress drank champagne and danced with friends who had come to say goodbye.
A steward led Augusta up the grand staircase to a stateroom on an upper deck. She had spent all her cash on the best cabin available, thinking that with the snuffboxes in her suitcase she need not worry about money. The room opened directly onto the deck. Inside it had a wide bed, a full-size washbasin, comfortable chairs and electric lights. There were flowers on the dresser, a box of chocolates beside the bed and a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice on the low table. Augusta was about to tell the steward to take the champagne away, then changed her mind. She was beginning a new life: perhaps she would drink champagne from now on.
She was only just in time. She heard the traditional shout of “All ashore that’s going ashore!” even as the porters brought her luggage into the cabin. When they had gone she stepped onto the narrow deck, turning up her coat collar against the snow. She leaned against the rail and looked down. There was a sheer drop to the water, where a tugboat was already in position to ease the great liner out of the harbor into the sea. As she watched, the gangways were withdrawn one by one and the ropes cast off. The ship’s foghorn sounded, a cheer went up from the crowd on the quay, and slowly, almost imperceptibly, the huge ship began to move.
Augusta returned to her cabin and closed the door. She undressed slowly and put on a silk nightgown and a matching robe. Then she summoned the steward and told him she would not require anything further tonight.
“Shall I wake you in the morning, my lady?”
“No, thank you. I’ll ring.”
“Very good, m’lady.”
Augusta locked the door behind him.