Roberta Leigh - Not a Marrying Man Read online

  'Yes. But I don't want to talk about it over the telephone. I'll meet you here as soon as you can make it.'

  Wasting no more time on words, she hurriedly dressed, suiting her clothes to his manner: a navy silk dress and jacket with sharp touches of white at the collar and cuffs. Despite her sleepless night her hair rivalled the lemon gold of the early morning sunshine. Not bothering with a cab she set off briskly along Park Avenue, and a clock was striking nine as she crossed the gold-carpeted floor and mounted the stairs to Bruno's office.

  He was walking up and down in the middle of the room and as she entered it, he stopped his pacing and stared at her.

  'Aunt Rosa called me at three o'clock this morning,' he said without preamble. 'It was eight a.m. London time and she'd just seen the morning papers.' He paused and Sara waited for him to continue, knowing it was going to be something serious but having no idea what it could be. 'Lucille's have taken full-page ads. in all the nationals to announce their new lipstick,' he continued, his voice flat but his eyes sparkling with anger. 'A totally indelible lipstick that has to be removed with a special cream.'

  For a brief instant Sara tried to pretend he had not spoken and that her imagination was playing a trick upon her. But as she went on looking at Bruno's face she knew she had indeed heard the truth.

  'Well?' he demanded. 'Haven't you anything to say?'

  'What can I say?' She perched on a chair and wondered fleetingly if he was as aware of her as she was of him. She was sure he had slept little during the night and it took no great ability to know he had come to the office immediately after hearing from Madame Rosa. Quickly she brought her mind to the problem his statement had raised.

  'Something like this has happened before,' she said. 'Not with us but with Lucille and the House of Eve. They both brought out an identical beauty mask.'

  'I remember it.' His tone was grim. 'House of Eve sued Lucille's for piracy, but there was insufficient evidence and the case never came to court.'

  Bruno's use of the word 'piracy' brought Sara to her feet and for the first time she understood what was going through his mind. 'No one could steal the formula. We had maximum security on that lipstick. Only a handful of people knew about it.'

  'That could be a handful too many.'

  'But they were people who've been with us for years! They wouldn't sell us out. Never!'

  For answer he lifted up a sheet of paper on which he had scribbled something. 'Apart from national press coverage, the glossies have double colour spreads on the lipstick too. Aunt Rosa read me some of the advertising blurb.' He reeled off a description of the lipstick: the lasting quality of its colour; its moisturising content; the colourless lipstick which was sold in conjunction with the indelible one and which removed it from your mouth. 'This isn't just a similar product,' he concluded. 'It's identical. And I'm going to find out how it was stolen and by whom. I've already spoken to Hamish and according to him only four hand-picked technicians knew what they were working on.'

  Sara hitched a chair close to the desk and began to write a list of all the Rosalyn people who had known of the lipstick. Bruno came to stand beside her and she moved her arm for him to see the names she had written.

  'You've missed out a few,' he said. 'There's Nevil Maine and everyone who works with him on the account.'

  'I was coming to that.' She wrote Nevil's name and that of his two assistants as well as several people in their art department.

  'How honest are all that lot?' Bruno demanded.

  'I would have said totally. They've all worked on the Rosalyn account for five years and there's never been a leak from anything they've handled.'

  'Until now.' Bruno kept his eyes on the list. 'All we have to do is to find out who had access to the laboratory or to Hamish's formula. I'll get Brummells on to it right away.'

  She turned fully and stared up at him. The detective agency?'

  'Why not ? They're the best people to get at the truth. And I'm going to get it, Sara, make no mistake about that. Lucille's have ruined our campaign. Even if we decide to bring out our lipstick we've lost the whole impact of it. You know as well as I do that being first on the market is all-important.' He sighed heavily. 'I'm not even sure I will bring it out. As you know, I always had my doubts about its viability.'

  They were very personal doubts,' she said. 'I agree that it's pointless for us to go ahead with a big advertising campaign, but it would be a pity to kill it completely. Many women will want an indelible lipstick, and if there's no choice on the market, Lucille's will scoop the pool.'

  'I suppose so.' He frowned. 'If I hadn't promised Alistair I'd remain for the T.V. shows, I'd catch the next plane to London. It's imperative we get Brummells on to it fast—while there's still a chance of them picking up some clue.'

  "Would you like me to go back and deal with them?'

  "You?" He looked as if the idea had not come into his mind until she had mentioned it. "You could certainly give them a run-down on everyone concerned,' he mused. 'You know the people there far better than I do.' He straightened his shoulders. 'Yes, Sara, I think it would be excellent if you went back.' He glanced at his watch. 'There's a plane leaving Kennedy Airport at noon.'

  'I could make it if I left immediately.'

  'Good. I'll call Brummells and get them to assign their best man to the job.'

  As he spoke he went with her to the door and she hoped he was going to suggest returning with her to the apartment while she packed her cases. But even if he had been about to do so he was forestalled by Alistair who, carrying a pile of photographs, was coming down the corridor towards them.

  'Here are the layouts you asked for, Bruno. If you can go over them with me——- '

  'Wait in my office,' Bruno cut in. 'I'll be with you in a moment.'

  Alistair smiled at Sara and then did as he was told, leaving Sara and Bruno to walk together along the corridor and down to the Salon.

  Several pairs of eyes followed them as they went out on the sidewalk where a uniformed porter, resplendent in Rosalyn yellow, flagged down a cab. Sara climbed into the back and Bruno spoke to her through the open window.

  'I'm sorry you have to go off like this. I was looking forward to seeing you today.'

  'I'll see you in London instead.' She smiled to hide her disappointment, knowing that in London it might not be the same and wondering how she was going to get through the next few days. To have seen him this afernoon would have told her so much more about him and what their future relationship—if indeed they had one— was going to be. Now she would have to temper her impatience and wait for several more days.

  'It won't be for long,' she said aloud.

  'Long enough,' he said tersely, and reached out to catch her hand in a tight grip. 'Have a good flight.'

  For an instant his fingers rested on her mouth, then he withdrew his hand and straightened up, watching as the cab pulled away from the kerb and moved into the mainstream of traffic.

  Because of the difference in time Sara reached London airport at mid-afternoon. Bruno had evidently called the London office, for to her surprise his own car and chauffeur were waiting for her. She had given a great deal of thought to what she should do and immediately drove to their factory on the Great West Road; before she spoke to Brummells it would be as well to talk to Hamish Roster.

  'I never imagined such a thing happening,' he said when, greetings over, they sat in his office off the laboratory to discuss the position. 'I've followed all the security rules MacGregor laid down and even added a few of my own. No one could have got hold of that formula.'

  'Are you saying it's coincidence that Lucille's are bringing out the same product?'

  'Of course not.' He ran a hand through sandy grey hair, his seamed face perplexed. 'Obviously somebody managed to steal it, but I've racked my brains to think who and how. All the years of research I've put in have gone down the drain.'

  'I wouldn't be as pessimistic as that,' Sara placated. 'We'll still be bringin
g out the lipstick, but we won't use such an expensive advertising campaign. Nor will we sweep the market as we'd originally hoped.'

  'We should have been the first,' he said emphatically. 'If I could find the bastard——- '

  That's what I'm here for. Bruno—Mr Lyn—has engaged Brummells, the investigation agency. He's as furious about it as you are.'

  'You mean we'll have a lot of men snooping around here?'

  'You've nothing to hide now,' she said dryly.

  'Don't be sure of that.'

  There was something in his voice which made her look at him closely and she saw a glimmer in the small eyes behind his lenses.

  'Are you working on something new, Hamish?' she asked.

  'Aye. That's why I want to get to the bottom of this lipstick business. If someone can steal the formula for that they can steal the formula for my new cream. It's an anti-wrinkle lotion,' he added, 'but this one really works for up to twelve hours at a time. With a bit more research I think I can get each application to work for twenty-four hours.'

  'You mean it smooths out lines?' Sara asked, careful to sound cool.

  'Completely. It's as good as stuffing silicone under your skin; except that it doesn't require an operation and after twelve hours it dissolves—without any harm to the body or the skin,' he added quickly. 'I've already checked that with one of the leading hospitals. A friend of mine is a doctor and we've been working together on this. I'll be able to keep it under wraps for the next few weeks while I'm still working on it myself, but once I need to make more experiments I'll need my technicians.'

  'They've all had security clearance.' Sara said, 'and we have never had a leak before. Are you sure no unauthorised person came in?'

  'Positive. And even if they did they wouldn't know where the formula was.'

  'Where do you keep it?' Sara asked.

  There's a copy in the safe and one in my head.

  'Have you ever taken the copy from the safe?'

  'On a couple of occasions when I needed to check it against my memory.'

  'Was there anyone with you when you did it?'

  'If they were, they were never left alone with it.'

  'Are you sure?'

  'Even if I did pop out of the office while the safe was open, I was only gone for a few seconds.'

  'You don't need more than that to take a photograph,' Sara pointed out.

  'No one came in here with a camera,' he stated positively.

  'Some are so tiny, you wouldn't even see them. They can be hidden in a watch or a pen. Even a cigarette lighter or the centre of a bow tie.'

  'A bow tie?' Hamish looked amused. 'It's about the only good reason for wearing one. It's a style I've always disliked.'

  'And me,' Sara smiled.

  'You'd better not let your fiance hear you say that. He was wearing a very natty one when he came to see me.'

  Sara was startled. Hamish couldn't be referring to Bruno, so that only left Nevil.

  'He isn't my fiance,' she replied.

  'You needn't keep it a secret from me,' the Scotsman said carefully.

  'If it were true I wouldn't keep it a secret from anyone. Nevil and I are friends, nothing more.'

  Hamish looked somewhat put out. 'That wasn't what he said. He quite clearly led me to believe he was engaged to you.' The sandy-coloured eyebrows drew together. 'And you seemed very friendly when I first met you both in your office.'

  'No friendlier than most of my generation are when they've known each other for a long time,' she said with a slight smile. 'But I can assure you there's nothing between Nevil and myself. If he said there is, it was wishful thinking.'

  'I can't blame him for that. You're a bonny girl. If I were fifteen years younger I'd be doing some wishful thinking of my own!'

  She laughed and stood up to go. 'I didn't know Nevil had come here to see you,' she said as she reached the door.

  'He wanted to check with me on the copy he was doing for the publicity campaign.'

  'He could have telephoned.' She glanced around her. 'He didn't bring anyone else with him, did he?'

  'No,' Hamish assured her. 'If he had, he would never have got clearance to come to the lab. I only let him in because I thought he was your fiance.'

  The words conjured up a picture of Mickey Mouse type security, with Nevil wearing a large engagement ring on his lapel in order to gain access to a laboratory guarded by kilted technicians headed by Hamish.

  'You make it sound as if being engaged to me gives a man special privileges,' Sara said wryly.

  'I daresay it does.' The Scotsman's eyes twinkled, his anger over his stolen formula momentarily forgotten. 'Any fiance of yours would certainly be treated as a friend of mine.'

  'How much of a friend?' Sara was not quite sure why she had asked the question; but the moment she saw the guarded look in Hamish's eyes she knew there was more to Nevil's visit than she had realised. 'You didn't show him the formula, did you?'

  'Not directly. But I was looking at it when he came in.'

  'When exactly was he here?'

  'He called to see me about a week after I'd installed myself. It was the day the Chubb people were putting in the wall safe. Until then I'd been keeping the formula in MacGregor's safe.'

  'So you had the formula on you when Nevil called?'

  'I think I did. I know I collected it from MacGregor, but I can't be a hundred per cent sure whether I did so before Mr Maine got here, or afterwards.'

  Sara pondered oyer this as she sat in the back of the limousine that was taking her to London. Nevil had had no business to deal directly with Hamish. If he wished to see any member of the company he had to do so through herself or someone in her office. Had the formula for the lipstick not been stolen she would not have given his behaviour a second thought but, because of the prevailing circumstances, she could not dismiss it. After all, if Nevil had been able to get into Hamish's office maybe someone else had done so too? The Scotsman had assured her nobody had, but she knew enough about people to know that memory could play one false. She would ask Brummells to question him closely, as well as all the other technicians who worked with him.

  'Do you wish me to take you home or to the Salon in

  Bond Street?' the chauffeur asked, sliding back the glass partition.

  'To the Salon,' she said with a tired sigh. 'But you needn't wait for me. I don't know how long I'll be there.'

  'Probably hours,' she thought dispiritedly. She would have to acquaint the investigators with the normal steps the company took to safeguard their highly confidential formulas, for only by knowing the routine would the Brummell people be able to spot any discrepancies in it. This thought brought her back to Nevil's visit to the laboratory and once again she was vaguely disturbed by it and the fact that Nevil had not seen fit to mention it to her when it had happened.

  Her meeting with the investigation agency took less time than she had anticipated, for Bruno had already spoken fully to the managing director of Brummells and several men were already at work in the Bond Street office when she arrived there. Mr Brian, a soft-spoken middle-aged man, was in charge of the enquiries, and he reminded Sara more of a city accountant than a private eye.

  'It's the image Brummells like to create,' he smiled when she mentioned it. 'People relax more with you if they believe you aren't the type to snoop. Though you'd be surprised how little snooping around we have to do. Just watching people and getting them to talk to you can often give you more information about them than any high-powered search into their past.'

  'It looks as if you'll have plenty of people to deal with before this case is over,' she warned.

  'We've started out with the most likely suspects first.'

  Then I'm at the top of the list,' she said promptly. 'You needn't be tactful about it. Ask me anything you like.'

  'We don't need to, Miss Vale. You'd be surprised at what we know about you.'

  'Then surprise me,' Sara said, sitting back in her chair, her long blonde hair swin
ging as she looked up at him.

  In a flat voice he proceeded to do so, reeling off the current state of her bank account, and the payments she had made into and out of it in the last three months. Then came a list of her friends, her family and her relationships with all of them.

  'It's staggering,' she said when he finally came to a stop. 'I'm not going to ask how you got such confidential information, but——- '

  That will save me from saying I can't tell you.'

  Her smile was rueful. 'And you do this detailed research on everyone in the company?' she added.

  'Not only everyone in the company but everyone connected with it. I have a team of men and women to help me. I reckon we'll find the answer you want in a couple of weeks. This sort of piracy isn't uncommon in your line of business, you know, and thieves or informers tend to follow a pattern.'

  'I suppose it's because there's so much money involved,' she murmured. 'There can't be any other reason why anyone should want to do it.'

  'Sometimes it's for revenge,' Mr Brian said. 'But generally it's for money. That's why we always begin by checking bank accounts and financial status. It's amazing how difficult it is to cover that up.'

  Her private line rang and she lifted the receiver. It was Nevil calling to welcome her back.

  'How did you know?' she asked, surprised.

  'I bribed your secretary to let me know when you were returning. Am I seeing you tonight?'

  On the point of refusing, she changed her mind but said she was not sure when she would be free.

  'I'll call for you at eight,' he replied.

  'It would be better if I come to your apartment. I don't know when I'm leaving the office.' She hung up and looked across the desk at the investigator. 'That was Nevil Maine. He's our Account Executive at the advertising agency.'

  'We have him on the list too,' the man informed her. 'Everyone's down, from the office cleaners through to the managing director. But the poorer they are the less likely they are to be guilty.'

  'And yet they're the ones who need the money most!'

  They are also the ones least likely to think in such large amounts. If you were missing something from the petty cash then we'd begin at the bottom of the ladder. But if it's anything big then we always start at the top.'