Death in the Stocks: Merely Murder

by Georgette Heyer

  They had come to a crossing, and the traffic lights were against them. Not until the car had moved forward again did Giles Carrington answer. Then he said, with a smile: ‘Yes, you’d be a fool – but I told you I was going to take a hand, didn’t I?’

  ‘Well, if anything has occurred to you, let me have it,’ said Hannasyde placably.

  ‘Two possibilities have occurred to me, but both are so wildly improbable that I think I won’t bother you with them,’ replied Giles. ‘One is obvious enough for you to have thought of for yourself –’

  Hannasyde gave a chuckle. ‘Thank you!’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it quite like that. The other –’ he paused – ‘the other, as far as I know, has absolutely nothing to support it. I’ll see if I can find something.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound very promising,’ said Hannasyde, rather amused. ‘But by all means go ahead with it.’

  In another few minutes they had arrived at the studio. Giles ran his car a little way down the mews, and followed Hannasyde up the stairs to the door of the flat.

  It was opened to them by Murgatroyd, who exclaimed: ‘What, again?’ in tones of deep disgust. ‘Well, one thing’s certain – you can’t go worrying my young lady and gentleman now. They’re having breakfast. Good-morning, Mr Giles.’

  ‘Having breakfast, Murgatroyd?’ Giles said. ‘Do you know it’s nearly eleven?’

  ‘Yes, and it was nearly five before Mr Kenneth and Miss Leslie came back from that dance,’ said Murgatroyd grimly.

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, but Superintendent Hannasyde is a busy man. Mr Kenneth will have to be disturbed.’

  ‘If you say so, sir,’ conceded Murgatroyd, disapprovingly, and stood back. ‘Not but what I doubt whether Miss Leslie’s dressed to receive company, but I’ll see.’

  ‘Miss Leslie? Is she here?’

  ‘Oh yes, she’s here, and has been all night – what there was left of it by the time Mr Kenneth brought her back,’ replied Murgatroyd. ‘What must she do but leave her latch-key behind, so sooner than knock up her landlady she wakes Miss Tony, and gets into her bed.’ She opened the door into the studio as she spoke, and looked in. ‘Here’s Mr Giles with the Superintendent, Miss Tony. Will I let them in, or not?’

  ‘Oh, my God, at this hour!’ groaned Kenneth. ‘Say we’re out.’

  ‘No, don’t. Of course they can come in,’ said Antonia. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Leslie? Hullo, Giles! Good-morning, Superintendent. Have some coffee!’

  The breakfast-table had been laid in the window. Antonia, fully dressed, was seated at one end, behind the coffee-pot, with Leslie Rivers, in a kimono, on one side of her, and Kenneth, in pyjamas, a pair of flannel trousers, and an old blazer, on the other. Kenneth, who looked half asleep, blinked somewhat morosely at the visitors, and said: ‘Well, what’s happened now? Don’t spare us. For God’s sake cover up those repulsive eggs, Tony! Murgatroyd must be mad. Where’s the ham?’

  ‘We finished it yesterday. Do sit down, Superintendent! This is Miss Rivers, by the way. You’re looking rather grim, Giles. Is anything the matter?’

  ‘I’m afraid something very serious, Tony. Roger is dead – shot.’

  There was a moment’s frozen silence. Then Antonia gasped out: ‘Gosh!’

  Kenneth, who had stayed his coffee-cup half-way to his mouth, blinked again and drank with a good deal of deliberation. Then he set the cup down in the saucer, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and said coolly: ‘If true, slightly redundant. Is it true, by any chance?’

  ‘Perfectly true, Mr Vereker,’ said Hannasyde, watching him.

  It struck Giles, also watching, that Kenneth’s control over his features was almost too perfect. There was a suggestion of rigidity about his mouth, a curiously blank look in his eyes. They travelled from Giles’s face to Hannasyde’s. Then Kenneth picked up his cup and saucer, and handed it to Antonia. ‘More coffee, please,’ he said. ‘How my fortunes do fluctuate!’

  ‘You don’t seem to be greatly surprised, Mr Vereker.’

  ‘I should hate you to know how very greatly surprised I am, my friend-the-Superintendent. You did say shot, didn’t you? What does that mean? Suicide?’

  ‘That or murder,’ said Hannasyde. The word, uttered so baldly, had an ugly sound, and made Leslie Rivers shiver involuntarily.

  ‘Let’s stick to suicide,’ suggested Kenneth. ‘It’s more likely.’

  ‘Do you think so? Why?’

  ‘Obvious inference. He killed Arnold, thought you were on to him, lost his nerve, and pulled the trigger. Violet said he had the wind up.’

  ‘Did she?’ It was Giles who spoke. ‘What made her think that?’

  ‘I didn’t ask.’

  Leslie said in rather a strained voice, ‘He must have had the wind up. I thought so myself.’

  ‘Well, I never saw any signs of it,’ said Antonia flatly.

  Leslie looked steadily at her. ‘Oh yes, Tony! He often had a sort of scared expression in his eyes.’

  ‘That was only because he thought you’d like to murder him,’ replied Antonia irrepressibly. ‘He said you –’ She broke off, flushing scarlet. ‘Oh, Lord, what on earth am I saying? It was only a joke, of course! He didn’t really think so!’

  ‘No, I should hardly suppose he did,’ said Leslie quietly. ‘I can’t say I liked him much, but I hadn’t any desire to murder him. However, perhaps it’s just as well that I’ve got an alibi.’ She turned to Hannasyde and smiled. ‘I was with Mr Kenneth Vereker last night, from a quarter to eight onwards. We had dinner together at the Carlton, and went on from there to the Albert Hall, where we danced till after four o’clock. Then we came back here.’

  ‘Were you together the entire evening, Miss Rivers?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she answered.

  Kenneth’s eyes went swiftly to her face with a look in them hard to read.

  ‘Did you go to the ball alone, or in a party?’ asked Hannasyde.

  It seemed to Giles that she hesitated for a moment. ‘We joined a party,’ she said.

  ‘A large party, Miss Rivers?’

  ‘No, not very.’

  ‘How many were in it?’

  ‘About a dozen, all told,’ said Kenneth. ‘We shared a box.’

  ‘And you naturally danced with other members of the party besides Miss Rivers?’

  ‘Naturally,’ concurred Kenneth.

  ‘But we always met in the box again after every dance,’ Leslie struck in. ‘I don’t think we lost sight of each other for more than five minutes at a time the whole night, did we, Kenneth?’

  ‘No,’ said Kenneth slowly. ‘Probably not.’

  Giles thought, with a sinking heart: That’s a lie. And Kenneth isn’t doing it well.

  ‘You didn’t leave the Albert Hall during the course of the dance, Mr Vereker?’

  ‘No.’

  There was a pause. Hannasyde put his hand in his pocket, and drew out the meerschaum pipe. ‘Have you ever seen that before?’ he asked.

  Kenneth looked at it, then held out his hand. Hannasyde put the pipe into it. Kenneth inspected it more closely and gave it back. ‘Many times. It belongs to me.’

  ‘I found it on the mantelpiece in your half-brother’s flat, Mr Vereker.’

  ‘Did you?’ said Kenneth. ‘I must have left it there.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Two or three nights ago. I was dining there.’

  ‘You haven’t missed it?’

  ‘No,’ said Kenneth indifferently. ‘I don’t always smoke the same pipe.’

  ‘A meerschaum is usually a somewhat cherished possession,’ Hannasyde said. ‘I too am a pipe-smoker, you know.’

  ‘You may be, but you’re not a Vereker,’ returned Kenneth, the ghost of his impish look in his eyes. He pushed his plate aside, and set his elbows on the table. ‘And now may I ask a few questions?’

  ‘In a moment, Mr Vereker. I want you first to tell me the names of the other members in your party last night.’

  ‘You a
re going to have a busy day,’ remarked Kenneth. ‘Leslie, who was in our party?’

  ‘Well, the Hernshaws, for one,’ began Leslie thoughtfully.

  ‘Two, darling. Mr and Mrs Gerald Hernshaw, Haltings, Cranleigh, Superintendent. That’ll be a nice little jaunt for you.’

  ‘And Tommy Drew,’ continued Leslie.

  ‘Honourable Thomas Drew, Albany. That’s an easy one for you, but he wasn’t noticeably sober after eleven, so he may not be so useful.’

  ‘And some people called Westley. I don’t know where they live.’

  ‘Were those the blights that came with Arthur and Paula?’ inquired Kenneth, interested. ‘I danced with the female one. They live somewhere on Putney Hill, and breed Pomeranians.’

  ‘You made that bit up,’ said Antonia accusingly.

  ‘I did not. The She-Wesley said she got three firsts at Richmond with her bitch Pansy of Poltmore.’

  ‘Then Poltmore is probably the name of her house,’ said Antonia. ‘I call Pansy a perfectly rotten name for a dog.’

  At this point Giles intervened. ‘This would be done more expeditiously if Miss Rivers told the Superintendent what he wants to know and you two kept quiet,’ he said.

  ‘Well, don’t forget the copper-headed wench,’ said Kenneth, getting up and strolling over to the fireplace. ‘She came with Tommy, and appeared to regret it.’ He selected a pipe from the rack on the mantelpiece and began to fill it from an earthenware jar of tobacco. By the time it was alight Leslie had come to the end of her list, and the Superintendent was jotting down the last name in his notebook. Kenneth puffed for a moment, and then said: ‘And now, if you’ve no objection, when did my half-brother shoot himself ?’

  ‘Your half-brother, Mr Vereker, was shot sometime last night – probably before midnight, but on that point I have as yet no certain information.’

  ‘And the weapon?’

  ‘The weapon was a Colt .32 automatic pistol.’

  Kenneth’s brows lifted. ‘It was, was it? Where’s your gun, Tony?’

  She looked startled, saw the hint of a frown in Giles Carrington’s eyes, and said jerkily: ‘What are you driving at? I didn’t shoot Roger!’

  ‘Nobody said you did, my child. Where is it?’

  ‘In the top left-hand drawer of my bureau.’

  He moved towards the bureau. ‘I’m willing to bet it isn’t.’

  ‘Well, this time you’d lose,’ retorted Antonia. ‘I happen to know it’s there, because I had it out and oiled it that day we spring-cleaned this room.’

  Kenneth opened the drawer, and turned over the papers in it. ‘I win,’ he said. ‘Think again.’

  ‘But I know I put it there!’ said Antonia, growing rather pale. ‘Under the used cheques. Leslie, you were here: don’t you remember?’

  ‘I remember you oiling it, but I don’t think I saw you put it away,’ said Leslie. ‘Try the right-hand drawer, Kenneth.’

  ‘Not there either,’ said Kenneth.

  ‘I am utterly positive I put it in the left-hand drawer!’ stated Antonia. She got up, and went to the bureau, and turned the contents of the drawer upside down. Then she said in rather a frightened voice: ‘No, it isn’t there. Someone’s taken it.’

  ‘You’re quite sure you didn’t move it later, and forget about it?’ Giles asked.

  ‘Yes. It always lives in my bureau. I’ll look, but I know I never moved it.’

  ‘I shouldn’t bother,’ said Kenneth.

  Hannasyde said quietly: ‘Did anyone other than your brother and Miss Rivers know where you kept your pistol, Miss Vereker?’

  ‘Oh yes, lots of people!’

  ‘Can you be a little more precise?’ he asked.

  ‘Anyone who knew the flat well. You did, for instance, didn’t you, Giles?’

  ‘Yes, I knew you kept it in your bureau, Tony. I think it was my suggestion. But didn’t I also suggest a lock and key?’

  ‘I daresay you did, but I lost the key ages ago, and anyway I never remembered to keep it locked up.’

  ‘Do you think your half-brother knew, Miss Vereker?’

  She reflected. ‘Roger? I should think he must have found out, because he told me himself he’d been through my bureau to see if I kept any money there. Kenneth, is that what you’re driving at? Do you think Roger took it?’

  ‘Yes, of course I do,’ replied Kenneth. ‘My friend-the-Superintendent, on the other hand, thinks I took it.’

  Hannasyde paid no heed to this, but merely asked Antonia if she knew the number of the pistol.

  ‘On your licence, Tony,’ prompted Giles. ‘Can you lay your hand on that?’

  ‘It’s sure to be somewhere in my desk,’ she said hopefully.

  Exhaustive search, in which she was aided by Kenneth, Giles and Leslie Rivers, at last brought the Arms Licence to light. She gave it triumphantly to Hannasyde, apologising at the same time for its somewhat dilapidated appearance. She said that dogs got hold of it once when Juno was a puppy.

  Hannasyde noted down the number of the pistol, gave her back the licence, and prepared to depart. Kenneth stopped him. ‘How serious are you in thinking that this may not have been suicide, friend Osric?’ he demanded.

  ‘You have reminded me yourself that I am not a Vereker,’ replied Hannasyde. ‘I don’t joke on such matters.’

  ‘Some reason up your sleeve for thinking it murder?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Hannasyde. ‘Several reasons. Is there anything else you would like to know?’

  ‘Certainly there is,’ answered Kenneth, a trifle unexpectedly. ‘I want very much to know who, after me, is the next heir.’

  His words produced a surprised silence. Hannasyde broke it. ‘That is hardly my province,’ he said.

  ‘I hate to contradict you,’ said Kenneth, ‘but it is very much your province. If this was murder, I look like being the next victim. And, frankly, I don’t fancy myself in the part. I want police protection, please.’

  Twenty

  The Superintendent looked at him for a moment, under slightly frowning brows. It was Antonia who spoke. ‘But aren’t I the next heir?’ she asked. ‘Giles, aren’t I?’

  ‘I’m not sure, Tony. Your father didn’t visualise the deaths of all three sons when he made his Will. You may be.’

  ‘What of it?’ said Kenneth blandly.

  Antonia said, with feeling: ‘You beast, Kenneth!’

  ‘If you are serious in wanting police protection no doubt you will get it, upon application to the proper quarter,’ said Hannasyde. ‘Meanwhile, I should like to see your maid – Murgatroyd – please.’

  ‘That ought to be good value,’ observed Kenneth, and lounged over to the door, and called to Murgatroyd.

  She came at once, and, upon being told that the Superintendent wanted to speak to her, confronted him with undisguised hostility in her eyes. ‘Well?’ she said. ‘No need to tell me something’s happened: I can see that.’

  ‘You’d never guess what, though,’ said Kenneth. ‘Roger’s dead.’

  She looked quickly from one to the other of them. ‘Dead?’ she repeated. ‘You’re not making game of me, are you, Master Kenneth?’

  ‘Ask my friend-the-Superintendent,’ he shrugged.

  She drew in her breath in a hissing sound through her teeth. ‘Well, that’s a surprise, I will say. Dead! And drunk at the time, I’ll be bound. And no loss, either – though I’m sure I didn’t wish him as much harm as that.’ She glanced at Hannasyde. ‘What is it you want to ask me? I don’t know how it happened, if that’s what you’re after.’

  ‘Where were you last night?’ he asked.

  ‘What’s that got to do with you?’ she retorted. ‘You’re not going to try and make out Mr Roger was murdered, are you?’

  ‘I am afraid I have a good deal of reason for thinking that he was,’ replied Hannasyde. ‘He was found in his flat, early this morning, shot through the head.’

  Murgatroyd’s rosy cheeks turned quite pale. She took a step backwards, was stoppe
d by a chair and sat down in it with a plump. ‘Oh, my goodness gracious me!’ she gasped. ‘Whatever next? Of all the unnatural – I never did in all my born days!’

  ‘And needless to say,’ put in Kenneth, ‘the police think I did it.’

  This brought her up out of the chair with a bounce. ‘Oh, they do, do they? Well, let me tell you,’ she said, rounding upon Hannasyde, ‘that Mr Kenneth was at a dance all last night, as Miss Rivers here can swear to!’

  ‘That wasn’t what I asked you,’ said Hannasyde quietly. ‘I want you tell me where you were.’

  ‘At the Pictures,’ she replied.

  ‘Alone?’

  ‘Yes, I was.’

  ‘And afterwards?’

  ‘Straight back here, where I was when Miss Tony came in.’

  ‘What time did you get back?’

  ‘Twenty minutes past eleven. You can ask Mr Peters, if you like – you’ll find him farther down the mews. He owns the lock-up garages, and he saw me come in, and asked me what the picture was like. Which I told him.’

  There was nothing more to be got out of her. Hannasyde let her go, and in a few minutes had left the flat himself.

  For some moments after the front door had shut behind the Superintendent no one spoke. It was Murgatroyd, coming back into the room, who broke the silence. ‘I’ve got my vegetables to do,’ she said prosaically, ‘let alone all this washing up, so it stands to reason I can’t waste time talking. You’d better come and give me a hand, Miss Tony. You won’t do any good sitting there looking scared. It’s a nasty set-out, and no mistake, but brooding won’t mend matters.’

  Antonia looked at Giles. ‘Giles, it’s all getting so beastly,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mind about Arnold, but I hate this! Kenneth – you were at the Albert Hall the whole night, weren’t you?’

  ‘God bless the girl, now she thinks I did it!’

  Giles said, watching Kenneth: ‘You lied badly. You were in Roger’s flat last night, weren’t you?’

  ‘He wasn’t! I tell you he never left the Hall!’ Leslie struck in fiercely.

  Giles paid no heed to her, but kept his eyes on Kenneth’s face. Kenneth met that look challengingly. ‘Why should I have been in Roger’s flat? Can you think of any reason?’