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A pale arm twitched back a corner of the coverlet. The owner of the arm considered whether to address the day. He rather thought not.
The sun had risen a few notches higher over 110 Piccadilly when Lord Peter Wimsey next opened his eyes. He immediately shut them again. Chronological time was not a thing a man should be a slave to, he decided.
A waft of something caught his nose. Of course, one mustn't overdo the poetical languor, either.
"Bunter, is that coffee I smell?"
"Yes, my lord. Would you like to see the newspapers?"
A groan issued from the bed.
"There's also tea, if your lordship prefers."
His lordship did not.
"Full many a glorious morning have I seen, Bunter, but this one, I think, must go unviewed."
Lord Peter tugged the coverlet firmly back into place and when his voice next issued forth, it was muffled.
"Determination, that's the thing. Must keep trying on the drowsy dreams of..." A loud yawn emanated from the bed.
Bunter took the kettle off the ring and gave up the bacon as a lost cause. He passed a happy hour scanning through the catalogs that had come in the morning post, noting one or two items of interest.
Lord Peter, meanwhile, resentful of the ever brighter sun, resolutely tried to ignore it, but finally stirred once more. He did not feel rested, exactly, but he doubted whether there was much to be gained by continuing in his present position. In addition, the loud noises outside his door did not fill him with confidence that his sleep would go undisturbed much longer.
He was correct in his apprehension.
Bunter bustled in. "Ah, your lordship is awake. Very good."
"See, I told you he was up, Bunter. Don't be ridiculous." Lady Mary Wimsey swept into the room on the heels of her brother's manservant, who, thus vanquished, reluctantly yielded the field.
Lord Peter blinked a few times, hoping that perhaps his sister was less corporeal than she seemed. His own haggard appearance at last appeared to make a dent, because her ladyship's expression softened from irritation to exasperation.
"Do get up, Peter, it's past two and we need to talk to you."
He raised one eyebrow and glared at her. Clad in pajamas and with his monocle on a table in the next room, it was a rather less imposing look, however, and his mood did not improve when his sister failed to flee in terror.
"Devil take it, Mary, this is most ungentlemanly of you, barging in at all hours. You'd think a fella would be safe from his relatives in his own bedroom."
Lady Mary sighed. "Very well, in deference to your suddenly delicate sensibilities - " she waved a gloved hand in his direction. "But I am going no further than the next room and Detective-Inspector Parker and I are not leaving until -- "
Lord Peter sat upright.
"Charles is here? Mary, what are you up to, making poor Parker trot after you? I didn't even know the two of you had met since the Riddlesdale affair."
Her ladyship had the grace to blush.
"Polly!"
"It's no good you saying `Polly,' like that Peter," Lady Mary said crossly. "Yes, Mr. Parker is here but I shan't tell you anything just yet. You can jolly well get out of bed if you want to hear the rest of the story."
The rest of the story was long in making its entrance, however, even after Lord Peter had left the embrace of slumber for the embrace of Bunter and had succumbed to the various ministrations of shaving brush and soap. Cleaned, refreshed and with coffee at his side, Lord Peter sat across from his sister and his friend and adopted what he hoped was a confidence-inspiring pose.
"Tell all, children, tell all. No sins too great, no sorrows too long. Confess to your Uncle Peter, is this the stop before the train to Scotland?"
Lady Mary made a face at him behind her tea cup but Charles looked genuinely startled.
"Peter, for god's sake, it's nothing like that. No, no. I was just -- that is to say, Lady Mary was just." The detective inspector turned to look at her ladyship but she merely sipped her tea and offered no help. He strove to start from the beginning.
"You see, it's like this. Lady Mary had a problem and it wasn't quite the thing one would tell a brother about -- I mean, let's face it, old man, you were rather a brute to her over Goyles -- so when she came to me and asked if I'd help, as a friend to the family, I mean -- "
Peter gave his sister a look which she did her best to ignore. Parker continued.
" -- So naturally I said yes, of course, I'd try but now it's taken a more disturbing turn and I insisted we bring you in. 'Lady Mary,' I said, 'We must take this to your brother at once' and she disagreed but I did think it was the thing and so here we are, you see?"
"Of course, Charles," said Lord Peter, casting a benevolent eye in his direction and motioning the hovering Bunter to fill Parker's glass. His sister, to whom his suspicions were more inclined, was not someone to be faced on coffee alone.
Lord Peter turned toward the offending party. "Using my keen deductive senses, Polly, I gather that you asked Charles here to be your knight errant. The substance of the mission, however, is rather less clear."
Lady Mary cleared her throat and looked down at her hands. "Well, Peter, I know you'll think I'm silly, but I've gotten in trouble with some letters. Rather indiscreet ones."
"Ah."
Detective-Inspector Parker threw a reproachful look at his friend. Peter endeavoured to look more sympathetic.
"Of course, it was years ago, I was practically still a kid and one doesn't think, does one?" Here Lady Mary lifted her head to peek at her brother. Seeing his expression, she quickly looked down again.
"Go on," said Lord Peter. "You were not thinking."
"I say ..."
"Charles, if you interrupt again I shall start hurling scones at your head. Mary, do get on with it."
Lady Mary cleared her throat again. "Anyway, I hadn't thought of the letters -- or of him, really -- for ages and then what with the Riddlesdale publicity he must have seen my name in the papers and thought, well I don't really know what men think -- and there were so many fortunes lost in the war and -- "
"Lady Mary, you are being too forgiving," interjected Parker. "The man is an out and out scoundrel, a blackmailer and worse."
"Forgive me, Polly," said Lord Peter, ignoring him, "but surely these letters cannot possibly cast a darker cloud over our family honor and whatnot then have, well, let us say, certain other recent events?"
"No," said Lady Mary. "And of course you're right and Detective-Inspector Parker told me much the same thing when I spoke with him about it."
Lord Peter tried to picture Charles in any way suggesting to Lady Mary Wimsey that her virtue was already somewhat in doubt. He couldn't picture it. He cocked an eyebrow at his friend, who was turning a deep shade of crimson.
"All I said to Lady Mary was that it never did to give in to blackmailers. They always want more."
"So far I am with you," said Lord Peter. "But if you have not paid anything -- and since I have not seen anything in the broadsheets, nor have I heard high shrieking noises from the general vicinity of Denver, I thus assume this blighter has not actually gone to the press -- I fail to see why I have been hauled out of bed so early this morning."
"Afternoon."
Lord Peter waved Parker's objection away. "Well, Mary, surely there's more?"
"Yes," said his sister. "There is."
"The thing of it is, he's a relation of a friend of Helen's -- that's how we met, you see -- and so he was down at Denver last weekend as well."
"As well?" said Lord Peter. "What the deuce were you doing toiling away in the country? Never mind, we'll take it as read. More madness for a Mayfair morning. You were in the country."
"So, I told him to go to blazes," said Lady Mary, "like Charles -- I mean, Mr. Parker -- said to do and I thought that was that. But then when I got to London I found a diamond hat pin of mine was missing and now I think he must have taken it and so I went round to see Mr. Parker again, as he's been of such help and then he insisted we come here." Her ladyship finally looked her brother in the eye. "And so here we are."
For one of the first times in his life, Lord Peter suddenly found it difficult to form words.
"The time has come for action, you see," Charles said. "I thought we might go confront the rogue together. I mean, first threats, then theft -- who knows what else he might do next?"
"Indeed," said Lord Peter, recovering himself. "What an excellent idea. I suppose Mary's been obligin' with a name and address, has she?"
Lady Mary blushed.
"Well, no," said Parker, "I think she wanted to consult with you first, only proper."
"Indeed," said Lord Peter again. "Sadly," and here his lordship paused cynically to note the sudden air of hope in his sister's face, "I'm not feeling quite the thing today. It may be that we should hold off until another day."
"Oh, of course," said Parker. "Sorry, should have said -- when you're feeling better, of course. I didn't know, you see -- " He gestured at the robe Lord Peter was wearing. "Er, that is, is there anything you need?"
"Yes, thank you, Charles," said Lord Peter. "I think I am going to send you on a quest of my own. Could you pop round to the chemist and fetch me a powder? I'd ask Bunter but I'm afraid he'd take it as a judgment. I'll just write it down for you, thanks, old chap."
Detective-Inspector Parker stood up to go and paused for a minute, suddenly conscious that all was not hale and hearty between the two siblings.
Wimsey waved him away. "Not to worry, Charles, Mary and I will just sit here and chat, what."
Parker put on his hat and left.
Lady Mary followed him with her eyes as he left and then turned to face her brother again, chin up.
Lord Peter stood up and then sat down abruptly as the walls began spinning. His voice, however, paced furiously around the room.
"A diamond hat pin! A diamond hat pin! Honestly, Polly, Jerry could come up with a better story. Only someone as untouched and unsuspicious as Parker would fall for such a tarradiddle."
Rumbled, Lady Mary had the grace to look guilty.
Lord Peter looked pointedly at her bobbed hair. "I mean to say, Mary, when was the last time you even owned a hat that used pins?" He put a hand to his head. "Never mind. I don't expect it will take Charles forever to find the chemist. Tell me what's really up, ab ovo usque ad mala."
Lady Mary squared her shoulders. "Honestly, I am sorry Peter, I really had no intention of involving you at this stage - not unless it became necessary, at any rate, and I say, you really are unwell, aren't you?"
"Getting more so, by the minute," said Lord Peter. "I have new sympathy for Lady Macbeth. A most misunderstood woman. But you're dilly-dallying - when did you first toddle round to Charles with this absurd fairy tale?"
"A few months ago," said Lady Mary. "I did wait for him to call me, but he's so proper, you know, and I'm sure he thought I was mourning or something and really, I decided that if I left it to him I shouldn't see him until there was another murder."
"Comforting thought. I see your point, however. Am I right, by the way, in assuming that your intentions are honorable?" Lord Peter fixed his sister with a stern glare. "He's the real stuff, you know. Pukka sahib all the way."
"Well, we haven't reached `The Voice that Breath'd o'er Eden,' just yet," Lady Mary said querulously, "but I'll bear your tender feelings in mind. Anyway, I had to tell him something - the notion that a young lady would just ring him up is a bit too shocking for him, I think. So I came up with the idea for the letters - and I think that was really a smashing plan."
"So what happened?"
"Nothing," said Lady Mary, drumming her fingers along the side of her chair. "I mean, after a while it was clear that the mysterious blackmailer wasn't doin' anything, so I needed another excuse to talk to Charles."
"Enter the hatpin."
"Well. Yes." Lady Mary shot her brother an exasperated look. "And don't think it makes you out to be such a gentleman, either, noticing women's hat styles."
Lord Peter spread out his hands. "I solemnly promise never to look at another hat, again. It doesn't quite solve your immediate problem, however."
Lady Mary sighed. "No, I suppose I shall have to leave town. You can tell him I was overcome with worry and went to stay with Mother."
"Oh come now, Polly, we can do better than that."
She looked at him expectantly.
"That's the trouble with you amateur criminals," said Lord Peter. "Too complicated. Keep it simple, there's a motto to keep one out of gaol. Why not simply tell him you're not absolutely, hundred percent certain you had the hatpin when you left Denver in the first place?"
Lady Mary thought a moment and then nodded.
"And then, not that I, the mere brother, have any part in these affairs of the heart, you could maybe suggest that he go with you back there and help you hunt for the thing?"
Her eyes lit up. "Jerry and Helen are in the City next weekend for some charity do. Peter, that's perfect."
Lord Peter yawned. "Excellent. Pay at the counter. Regular hourly rates plus expenses."
"I say, I gave the powder to Bunter," said Parker, re-entering the room. "I hope that's in order? He rather grabbed it from me as I came back in."
Lady Mary stood up and walked across to her brother. With one hand she rescued the coffee cup about to fall out of his grasp and with the other she gestured to Parker to lower his voice.
"Sorry, sorry," he said. "I didn't see. Is he asleep?"
Lady Mary smoothed her brother's hair and bent to give his forehead a kiss. She started as his eyes opened suddenly:
"Don't forget," whispered Lord Peter. "You do have to buy a hatpin at some point, of course."
"Yes, I had grasped that part of the plan," she said, smiling. "Do take of yourself, brother. Lady Macbeth came to a bad end, you recall."
Lord Peter closed his eyes again. "Well, she didn't have Bunter, did she?"