The Wellington Bureau: A Quartermain Mystery

again,

  “My God! He was dead in the study and Philip was there all night. He was dead and nobody knew!” The full horror of what had happened was on her. She wept freely, Anna still holding her hand.

  Anna informed the police of all that Elizabeth had said without mentioning any of her own evidence. Fortunately a neighbour was able to corroborate the fact that Parry had indeed arrived at the Gurney’s house at about four-thirty, although he had not seen him leave. Parry was interviewed by the police. Here was a man with both opportunity and motive. By late afternoon Parry had been called to the police station for further questioning. By the evening Philip had been released. Anna, however, went to bed that night feeling distinctly unhappy. She had guessed about the affair and guessed correctly. But it did not seem to explain all the niggling little facts that she had gleaned over the past weeks. There was something else that bothered her. She kept picturing Parry emerging from the house and wiping his windscreen. Something was not quite right, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  “They arrested me because I was the obvious suspect,” Philip was saying to Toby and Anna. “I had the opportunity; I was alone in the house from five, when I got home, until six when you and Percy arrived,” he referred to Toby. “Presumably my father was there all the time. The only thing was, that he was already dead! Then I was alone all night. When I think of him sitting there in his chair while I slept...” he shuddered.

  “Can they not tell when he died; the exact time?” asked Toby. “I mean, he must have been dead before you even came home.”

  “Well, by the time I found him he had been dead for a while. That much was clear. Rigor mortis had set in. It wasn’t very nice finding him like that. His face! God, I wish I hadn’t given up drinking.” He strode up and down the Furnival’s drawing room. He hadn’t liked to go to stay in his own home, and since everybody else seemed to be at the Furnival’s, he had spent the night there. He decided not to call on his aunt in the circumstances. “They might be able to pin the time down more exactly after a post-mortem. The awful thing is that I walked into the study whistling. I must have been in there five minutes before I saw him. He was sitting in the chair. You can’t see if anyone is sitting in it from the door because it is turned to face the window. Then I went to look out of the window, and as I turned...” The horrible vision, the shock of what he saw, showed in his eyes. “He was holding those letters. You couldn’t get them out of his hand. Bloody stupid love letters from that murdering bastard to my mother,” he spat out the words.

  “Steady on, old man,” Toby put a soothing hand on his friend’s arm.

  “Mrs Quincey saw him. Nosey old buzzard! The first useful day’s work she’s ever done. Otherwise there wouldn’t have been a witness. She accosted me when I went home last night to collect some clothes. She had seen two kids on a motorbike as well.” He did not notice Anna giving a start at this revelation. “She said she thought it funny at the time. She even took the registration number. She was going to complain about them. Then she heard about the murder and decided that they had something to do with it, until the police started asking about Sir Evelyn.”

  “Did she tell the police about the motorbike?” Anna felt suddenly panicked.

  “What? Oh, I don’t know. I expect so. I expect she’s just revelling in being an important witness. Nothing like a nice juicy murder to keep her entertained! Are you all right Anna? You’ve gone quite pale.”

  Anna, who was standing by the window, had indeed gone pale. She even swayed slightly and had to sit down heavily. For a moment she sat with her head bent, one hand on her forehead. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. Philip had given her the key to the whole mystery.

  “Anna?” Toby looked at his stepmother in concern.

  She looked up. “How could I have missed it? How on earth could I have missed it for so long!”

  “Missed what?”

  “Parry’s name! I keep calling him Amanda’s husband, Warren’s father, or “Him” with a capital H. But not once have I heard his Christian name used. Not once did I think to ask.”

  “Does it matter?” enquired Toby, quite baffled.

  “Yes. You should have guessed! You knew his name. But then you didn't know about Warren.”

  “Anna, what are you talking about?”

  “Never mind. Just answer one question. Did you have anything pinched at university: money, cuff-links, anything of value?”

  “I suppose so. Yes. We all did. That sort of thing is quite common. Why? What does that have to do with Sir Evelyn murdering Philip’s father?”

  “Everything. Look, I must ask Warren something.” She stood up suddenly, her face quite flushed.

  “All right. He’s only next door. I’ll come with you. But I don't pretend to understand what is going on in your mind. Are you coming, Philip?”

  “No, I think not.”

  Anna had already hurried out of the door, and the bewildered Toby followed.

  They were shown into a cold, formal sitting room where they found Lady Parry looking more washed-out than ever and Warren more doleful. Toby gave Amanda Parry a comforting hug and Warren smiled at him wanly.

  “Sorry to barge in, but Anna has something she wants to ask.” The notoriously tactless Toby seemed almost apologetic for his stepmother’s apparent tactlessness on this occasion. Anna, however, had the same grim set to her mouth that she had when she went to speak to Elizabeth Gurney. She was not one to be put off by the danger of being thought tactless.

  “I’m so sorry, Warren, but I must ask you a question. Would you rather talk alone?”

  He shook his head. “No. Just ask.”

  “All right. Has someone been blackmailing you?”

  The question was a bombshell. Even Warren had not expected it.

  “What? How the devil...?” His voice trailed off as he glanced at his mother.

  “Your mother knew something was wrong all along. There seems no point in trying to hide it now... in the circumstances.”

  “No. I suppose not. How did you find out?”

  “I’ll tell you another time. Oh, heavens! What do we do now?” she sank into a chair.

  “Anna, I’m baffled, bewildered and bemused! What is this all about?” asked Toby.

  “What’s it all about?” Anna echoed the question. After a pause she explained, “Sir Evelyn didn’t murder Harold Gurney. I should have realised from the start it wasn’t him. As for who did do it...well, the person who has been blackmailing Warren must be the person who stole out of Elizabeth’s bag. The same person stole Susan’s jewellery. Unless I’m very much mistaken, he also murdered Harold Gurney. There is only one problem. I can’t prove it!”

  Anna telephoned the twins at their home first thing on the Monday morning so as to catch them before they left.

  “Hallo, Mrs Bird, Anna Quartermain speaking. Could I have a word with your son? Either will do, but Bill would be better.”

  There was a pause whilst the mother went to fetch the son.

  “Hallo,” said a voice.

  “Are you Bill or Ben?”

  “Ben. Bill’s in the shower.”

  “I thought I ought to contact you about the bike. Someone spotted Bill and me and, as luck would have it, the man whose house we were watching was murdered!”

  “Gordon Bennett! Are you suspects?”

  “No. The police are holding a man. Not the right man, but it should keep them happy until we’ve sorted things out.”

  “Oh, well, I doubt if they’ll trace the bike to Bill, anyway."

  “Why not?"

  "Well, he just bought it off his mate for cash. They might trace it to him but he won’t say Bill has it. He’ll probably tell them it’s been nicked!”

  “I doubt if that will help! But don’t you have to register them? Surely he has a licence?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Oh, dear!” said Anna. “So him taking me for a spin on that bike was quite illegal?”

  “I s’pose so
.”

  “You two are on probation; you should be more careful. Never mind. Anyway, there was something else I wanted to know about. Have you got any tools or whatever for breaking into a house?”

  “Um, no,” said Ben, unconvincingly.

  “Are you telling me you’ve never broken into a house? Do you not even know a friend with a crowbar or something?”

  “Well, there are other ways of breaking into a house than with a crowbar!”

  “A crowbar will do admirably for my purposes.”

  “What on earth do you want us to do? Don’t forget we are on probation. We have to be careful!” Anna could sense that he was grinning as he spoke.

  “Don’t worry, Ben, we’ll be careful. Just bring whatever you need.”

  “Here we are!” said Bill, proudly displaying to Anna an interesting little collection of screwdrivers, skeleton keys and celluloid strips.

  “Are these for slipping locks?”

  Bill nodded.

  “It’s a good thing your probation officer doesn’t know about this little lot!”

  “Got them from a friend,” Ben explained.

  “And that reminds me, Bill – don’t go riding that bike again until we’ve got the paperwork sorted. And insured it properly.”

  Bill gave her a sheepish grin by way of reply.

  “What place do you want us to break into?” enquired Ben. “The place we watched?”

  “No. That’s where the murder took place. I’m after the murderer. I know who it is, but I need some proof. I’m going to have to be rather devious. I think my man is cool, clever, calculating and, it seems, quite deadly. I also