‘You ought to be grateful to me for swelling your audience,’ replied Hugh.
‘I must have people in sympathy with me,’ said Vicky. ‘All great artistes are like that.’
‘What’s that got to do with it?’ inquired Hugh unkindly.
The Inspector interrupted this exchange without ceremony. ‘You are Miss Victoria Fanshawe?’ he said.
‘Yes, didn’t you know? Only not Victoria, if you don’t mind, because I practically never feel like that.’
‘My information,’ pursued the Inspector relentlessly, ‘is that at the time of your stepfather’s death you were walking by the stream with your dog. Is that correct?’
‘Yes, and I definitely heard the shot, only I quite thought it was someone potting rabbits.’
‘Did you see anyone amongst the bushes, miss?’
‘No, but I don’t think I could have. They’re awfully thick by the stream. Besides, I didn’t look, and as a matter of fact I wasn’t paying any attention at all, until I heard Mr White’s voice, and Janet White sobbing. That’s what made me go down to the bridge.’
‘And this dog of yours, miss: he didn’t bark, or anything, as though he knew there was a stranger prowling about?’
Vicky shook her head. ‘No, he didn’t, which makes it look rather as though it wasn’t a stranger, now I come to think of it. Unless, of course, he kept jolly still, and Roy didn’t get wind of him.’
Ermyntrude said uneasily: ‘But, lovey, it can’t have been other than a stranger. Not anyone belonging to us, I mean, and it isn’t to be supposed any of our friends would go and do a thing like that.’
‘No, I worked it all out while I was changing,’ said Vicky. ‘I think Percy must have done it.’
‘Vicky, we don’t want to go into that!’ said Ermyntrude hurriedly. ‘It’ll be all over the country once anyone gets wind of it! Now, you hold your tongue, sweetie, like a good girl!’
‘Oh, darling, did you want me not to mention Percy? I’m so sorry, but I haven’t myself got any compunction, because he said he was the declared enemy of all our class, so that it seems awfully likely he did it.’
‘I must request you, miss, to give me a plain answer!’ said the Inspector, regarding her with such an alert expression on his face that Mary’s heart sank. ‘Who is this person you refer to as Percy?’
‘Well, he’s a Communist,’ said Vicky. ‘He’s Percy Baker, and he works at Gregg’s, in Burntside.’
‘What makes you suppose he might have had something to do with Mr Carter’s death? Had he got a grudge against him?’
‘Yes, but it’s a very sordid story,’ said Vicky softly. ‘You wouldn’t like to hear it from an innocent girl’s lips.’
‘I don’t mind whose lips – look here, miss, are you trying to make game of me? Because, if so—’
‘Oh no, no, no!’ faltered Vicky, looking the picture of scared virginity.
Ermyntrude arose majestically from the couch. ‘Is nothing sacred to you?’ she demanded of the Inspector. ‘Won’t you be satisfied until you’ve crucified me?’
‘No, I won’t – I mean, there’s no question of me doing anything of the sort!’ said the exasperated Inspector. ‘What I want, and what I’m going to have, is the truth! And I warn you, madam, you’re doing yourself no good by carrying on in this unnatural way!’
‘Don’t think that you can bully me!’ begged Ermyntrude. ‘I may look to you like a defenceless woman, but you’ll find your mistake if you try me too far!’
‘Oh, Aunt Ermy, do, do control yourself!’ said Mary wearily. ‘Percy Baker, Inspector, is the brother of a girl whom my cousin, I’m sorry to say, had got into trouble. But as all he wanted from my cousin was money, I can’t see why he should have killed him.’
‘No, that’s what I thought at first,’ agreed Vicky, ‘but I must say he did seem to me to be frightfully undecided about his racket, when I saw him. I wouldn’t wonder at all if he suddenly made up his mind to go all out for revenge, because he rather approves of massacring people, and thinks the French Revolution was a pretty good act, ’specially while the Terror lasted.’
‘The girl’s name and address?’ said the Inspector, holding his pencil poised above his notebook.
‘Well, we’re not, as a matter of fact, on calling-terms,’ said Vicky. ‘She works at the Regal Cinema, in Fritton.’
‘That’s right: brandish my shame over the whole countryside!’ said Ermyntrude, tottering back to the couch. ‘Pillory me as much as you like!’
‘Darling Ermyntrude, it isn’t your shame at all. You don’t mind my brandishing Gladys’s shame, do you?’
‘I can assure you, madam, I shall, so far as I am able, conduct my inquiries with the utmost discretion,’ said the Inspector.
‘Yes, I wish I may see you!’ retorted Ermyntrude tartly. ‘And if you’re going to interview that – that – well, never mind what, but if you’re going to see that girl, you can tell her that she can sing for her five hundred pounds, for she won’t get it out of me, not after this!’
‘Is that the sum that was demanded from Mr Carter, madam?’
‘Yes, you may well look surprised!’ said Ermyntrude. ‘And the young man coming up here, as bold as brass, to blackmail my husband in the middle of a dinner-party, and him having the face to tell me as cool as you please that he’d have to ask me for five hundred to get rid of this Gladys with!’
‘Mr Carter told you what he wanted this sum for?’ said the Inspector incredulously.
‘Well, he had to, or I wouldn’t have given it to him.’
The Inspector coughed. ‘No doubt that was the cause of your disagreement with Mr Carter, madam?’
‘Of course it was!’ replied Ermyntrude. ‘Well, I ask you, wouldn’t you be a bit upset if you found that your husband was carrying on like a Mormon all over the town, and expecting you to provide for a pack of – well, I don’t want to be coarse, so we’ll leave it at that!’
The Inspector was staring at her. ‘Yes, madam, I’m bound to say I would. But – but – did you tell Mr Carter you would give him this money?’
‘Well, what else was I to do?’ demanded Ermyntrude. ‘Faults I may have, and I don’t deny it, but thank God no one’s ever said I was mean!’
A new train of thought had been set up in the Inspector’s mind. He said in a suspiciously mild voice: ‘I don’t think I need to ask you any more questions at present, madam, except what you were doing at the time of Mr Carter’s death – just a matter of routine!’ he added, perceiving a spark in Ermyntrude’s eye.
‘How do I know when he died? What are you trying to get at?’
‘Judging from the evidence I’ve heard so far, madam, and the time of Mr White’s phone call to the police station, Mr Carter was shot at about five minutes to five.’
‘It makes no difference to me when he was shot,’ said Ermyntrude. ‘I’ve been lying down the whole afternoon on my bed.’
‘And you, miss?’ said the Inspector, turning suddenly towards Mary.
‘I came downstairs just before my cousin set out to go to the Dower House. When he left, I went out to get some tomatoes from one of the hot-houses.’
‘Where is this hot-house, miss?’
‘By the kitchen-garden, on the other side of the house.’
‘I take it you heard nothing?’
‘No, nothing at all.’
‘I see, miss.’ The Inspector shut his notebook. ‘I should like to interview the servants, if you please.’
‘Certainly,’ Mary replied. ‘But only the butler and his wife, and the under-housemaid are in. The rest of them went out immediately after luncheon. If you’ll come into the morning-room, I’ll send the butler to you at once.’
The Inspector thanked her, and followed her to the morning-room. Ermyntrude, after c
ommenting acridly on the effrontery of policemen who behaved as though the place belonged to them, allowed herself to be persuaded to go into the drawing-room.
When Mary came back to the hall she found Hugh alone there. ‘I think I ought to clear out,’ he said. ‘But if there’s anything I can do, you know you’ve only to tell me.’
‘Oh, don’t go!’ said Mary, who was feeling a good deal shaken. ‘I can’t cope with them! It’s like being in a madhouse, and when that awful Prince gets back, it’ll be worse. Wasn’t Aunt Ermy ghastly? And as for that little beast, Vicky, I’d like to wring her neck! She deliberately dragged Wally’s affair with Gladys Baker into it! The one thing we wanted to keep quiet about!’
‘I don’t think you could have done that, though I admit I was a trifle startled when Vicky flung the bomb into our midst. She seems to have recovered from her first shock.’
‘Of course she’s recovered! She’s probably enjoying all the sensation. But, Hugh, what are we going to do? Who did kill Wally? And how am I to stop Aunt Ermy making foolish admissions?’
‘I shouldn’t think you could do that,’ said Hugh frankly. ‘You might have a shot at quelling Vicky, though. As for who killed Wally, I haven’t the faintest idea, unless Vicky was right, and it was Baker.’
‘Oh, I hope it was!’ Mary said, pressing her hands to her temples.
Hugh lifted his brows. ‘Like that, is it? Not keeping anything back from the police, are you, Mary? Because, if so, don’t.’
‘No, no, of course I’m not! Only we’ve been living in a sort of atmosphere of drama, and repressions, and I expect I’ve let it get on my nerves. Hugh, couldn’t it have been an accident?’
‘Hardly,’ he replied. ‘The only persons who could conceivably have been shooting at rabbits in the Dower House grounds – five o’clock on a Sunday afternoon, too! – are White, or his son. Well, it wasn’t White, and I don’t see why it should have been his son.’
‘Where was Alan?’
‘I don’t know. Not present.’
‘Anyway, there isn’t the slightest reason why he should want to kill Wally,’ said Mary, with a sigh.
Vicky came out of the drawing-room just then, with a large box of chocolates, which she offered both to Mary and Hugh. When they declined this form of refreshment, she perched herself on the back of the sofa, with her feet on the cushioned seat, and laid the box across her knees. ‘Poor darling Ermyntrude is a bit exhausted,’ she remarked, selecting a truffle from the box. ‘Myself, I thought the scene was too long for her, and much too heavy.’
‘Need you talk as though we were taking part in theatricals?’ snapped Mary.
‘Yes, because we’re bound to be, with Ermyntrude and me in the thick of it. We simply can’t help it, darling. Particularly Ermyntrude, because she always wanted to play in heavy tragedy, and no one ever gave her the chance, so you can’t blame her for letting herself go now.’
‘It’s so false!’ Mary exclaimed. ‘You know as well as I do that she didn’t care tuppence about Wally!’
‘No, I do think she had got awfully sick of him,’ agreed Vicky, choosing another chocolate from the box.
‘Very well then, all this pretence of tragedy is in the worst of bad taste!’
‘Don’t be silly, darling: if she still cared about Wally I don’t think she’d do it. I’m not sure, mind you, but I rather believe not. And after all, you can’t very well expect her to go all hard-boiled, and let everyone know she doesn’t care a bit.’
‘I don’t expect it, but a little reticence, and dignity—’
Vicky raised her eyes from the chocolates. ‘Oh, Mary, you must be completely addled! Why on earth should poor Ermyntrude suddenly become reticent and dignified, when that isn’t her line at all? She couldn’t put over an act like that, which is why I think it’s so right of her just to play herself, if you know what I mean.’
‘Leaving your mother out of the discussion,’ said Hugh, ‘what part are you proposing to play?’
‘It depends,’ replied Vicky. ‘How hellish! I’ve struck a hard chocolate which is wholly inedible. What on earth will I do with it?’
‘I wish you’d stop eating chocolates!’ said Mary crossly. ‘Is this quite the moment?’
Vicky wrinkled her brow. ‘Well, I didn’t have any tea, and quite truthfully I don’t see anything particularly irreverent about it. In fact, darling, you’re being fairly fraudulent yourself, when you come to consider it. What’s more, the whole situation seems to me so awful that if you’re going to make it worse, by putting over a pious act of your own, life will become definitely unbearable.’
‘I’m sorry if I sounded artificially pious,’ replied Mary. ‘I suppose you feel that you helped to make things more bearable by telling that policeman all about Baker?’
‘I wouldn’t wonder. I get very brilliant in my bath, and I had a bath before I came down, and I decided that if you’ve got a dissolute secret which is practically bound to come to light, you’d much better be the first person to mention it. Moreover,’ she added, eyeing the chocolates with her head on one side, ‘it took the Inspector’s mind off me for the moment, which I particularly wanted to do.’
‘Particularly wanted to do?’
‘Well, I’ve got to think up a convincing excuse for being practically on the scene of the crime, haven’t I?’
‘You little fool,’ interrupted Hugh, ‘are you seriously proposing to fake an alibi for yourself ?’
‘Oh yes, I was a Girl Guide once, for about a fortnight, and they say you should always Be Prepared. Which reminds me of what I actually came to talk to you about, Mary. Do you think considering everything, it might do good if we directed the Inspector’s attention to Alexis?’
‘Do good?’ gasped Mary. ‘Do you mean, try and cast suspicion on the unfortunate man?’
‘Yes, but in an utterly lady-like way.’
‘No, I do not! I never heard of anything so – so conscienceless!’
‘But, darling, don’t be one of those irksome people who can’t look at a thing from more than one angle! Because this is probably going to be very momentous. You can’t pretend it would be a cherishing sort of thing to do to let Ermyntrude marry Alexis. The more I consort with him, the more I feel convinced he’s exactly like somebody or other in Shakespeare, who smiled and smiled and was a villain. And, unless we gum up the works, there isn’t a thing to stop him marrying Ermyntrude, and then abandoning the poor sweet as soon as he’s hypnotised her into making a colossal settlement on him.’
Mary looked appealingly towards Hugh. He said judicially: ‘I quite agree that it would be a mistake for your mother to marry Varasashvili, but it would be a damned dirty trick to try and cast suspicion on him, and you mustn’t do it. Not that the police are likely to pay much heed to you once they’ve been privileged to see a little more of you.’
‘You never know,’ Vicky murmured.
‘In any case, it won’t be necessary for you to shove your oar in,’ said Hugh. ‘The police are naturally suspicious of everyone who was in any way connected with your stepfather.’
‘Yes,’ said Mary. ‘And what the Inspector won’t know of the cross-currents in this house after his heart-to-heart talk with Peake, won’t be worth knowing!’
Eight
Inspector Cook, who had had no very wide experience of murder cases, and who had been thrown badly out of his stride by his interview with the members of Wally Carter’s family, was discovering in Peake, the butler, the first witness who gave his evidence fully, and to the point. Mrs Peake, and the young housemaid he had soon dismissed, for the housemaid was too frightened to stop sobbing, and Mrs Peake, a comfortably shaped woman who had, she informed him, been in the best service all her life, declined knowing anything beyond the realm of her kitchen.
But Peake gave the Inspector no trouble at all. He
had been in his pantry, he said, at the time of Wally’s death, but he admitted without any hesitation that he could produce no proof of this statement. When he was asked if he knew of anyone having a grudge against Wally, he looked down his thin nose, and replied primly that he believed a young man calling himself Baker had considerable cause to bear Wally a grudge.
‘Yes, I want to know more about that young fellow,’ said the Inspector. ‘I understand he came up to the house to see Mr Carter?’
‘He came twice,’ said Peake. ‘Upon the first occasion, which was early yesterday afternoon, Miss Vicky interviewed him. I could not say what took place between them, I’m sure. He returned about half past nine in the evening, and although I informed him that Mr Carter was engaged with guests, he refused to withdraw. He came upon a motor bicycle on both occasions. He appeared to me to be a very violent young man.’
‘Ah, violent, was he? What makes you think that?’
‘He uttered threats of a mysterious nature, and when I told him to be off he put his foot down so that I was unable to shut the door.’
‘What sort of threats?’
‘I should not like to say,’ replied Peake. ‘I paid very little heed to him, seeing that he was quite a common person, and wearing one of those red ties. I recall that he said Mr Carter would be sorry if he refused to see him, besides ranting a great deal about his sister’s honour, in a very vulgar way.’
‘Oh! Did Mr Carter see him?’
‘Mr Carter was with him in the library for about half an hour.’
‘Did you happen to hear what was said?’ asked the Inspector.
‘Certainly not,’ replied Peake frigidly.
‘Any sounds of altercation?’
‘Upon my way through the hall, I noticed that Baker’s voice was unbecomingly raised,’ admitted Peake.
‘What about today? Has he been here again?’
‘He has not been here to my knowledge.’
‘And is he the only person you know of who might have wanted to murder Mr Carter?’