by Clara Benson
‘Yes, but the papers have been talking about the ball at the Savoy,’ said Freddy. ‘All the stories I’ve read have implied that Ro will be wearing the pearls for the first time then. But who knew she’d be wearing them tonight?’
‘Oh, I see what you mean,’ said Goose, disconcerted. ‘Well, naturally the whole house knew about it.’
‘Including the servants?’
‘I expect so. We’re a talkative sort of family. But don’t think for a moment any of them did it, as they’re all perfectly honest.’
‘Well, we’ll see,’ said Freddy.
‘I say, you don’t think whoever took the pearls might still be in the passage, do you?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps.’
Goose stopped so suddenly that Freddy bumped into him.
‘Perhaps we ought to have brought a weapon, in that case,’ he said.
‘Too late for that now,’ said Freddy, who had just been thinking the same thing. ‘Get on.’
They picked their way down the winding steps and turned on to the last straight. The darkness here was less dense, and Freddy knew they must be coming to the door that led out into the library.
‘He’s left it open,’ said Goose. ‘Then he must have come this way after all.’ He stepped out into the library and let out a sudden cry. ‘Oh, Lord! Freddy! Look!’
By the urgency of his tone Freddy could tell that something was very wrong. He emerged from the passage and looked towards where Goose was pointing. The library was lit only by the moon which shone in from outside, and for a moment all Freddy could see in the pale glow was a pile of old clothes strewn across the floor. For one absurd moment he thought that somebody must have brought the tailor’s dummy down here, but then the image rearranged itself in his head and he realized that the untidy heap of linen before him was nothing of the sort, but was a human being—or what was left of one.
‘Why, it’s Professor Coddington!’ he exclaimed.
The professor had fallen untidily, and was lying face-down, with one arm stretched out and touching a heavy desk that stood between him and the door. They stared at the sight.
‘He must have been killed as he came out of the passage,’ said Goose at last.
‘It looks like it,’ said Freddy. ‘But what’s this?’
They approached the body tentatively and shone the torch on it. In the professor’s outstretched hand was something familiar, which glistened in the torchlight.
‘It’s the pearls!’ exclaimed Goose. ‘But what does it all mean?’
‘I haven’t the faintest idea,’ said Freddy. ‘Go and switch the light on, will you?’
Goose did so, and Freddy bent to examine the unfortunate Professor Coddington. He was wearing his night-things, and was wrapped in a dressing-gown. One of his slippers had come off as he fell, and was lying next to his right knee. Freddy looked along the body to the head, which bore an unpleasant dent, out of which something dark and sticky was oozing. Beside him, Goose jerked and made an involuntary sound of disgust.
‘Brained!’ he said. ‘I suppose he’s really dead?’
Freddy reached out gingerly and took the professor’s wrist.
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘But how did it happen? If he took the pearls then how did he die? Did he fall and hit his head, do you think?’
‘Perhaps,’ said Freddy doubtfully. He stepped towards the desk and examined the edges of it carefully. ‘I don’t think so, though. He certainly didn’t fall against this, and what else could he have hit?’ He looked around but could see nothing else which might have caused the injury. ‘I can’t see a sign of blood anywhere except his head. And besides, look at the way he’s lying, face-down. If his feet had slipped from under him then one would expect him to be lying on his back, don’t you think?’
‘But he might have tripped over and fallen forwards, surely?’
‘In that case, he’d have hit the front of his head, not the back.’
‘Oh yes, of course. But if somebody did kill him, then who was it?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Freddy. ‘Look here, you’d better go and fetch your father.’
‘All right,’ said Goose, and bent to remove the pearls from the professor’s hand.
‘Leave them,’ said Freddy. ‘We oughtn’t to move anything until the police arrive.’
‘I don’t care,’ said Goose obstinately. ‘I’m not leaving those pearls here for someone to come and take them again.’
He put the necklace in his pocket, then went to rouse the Duke again. Freddy was now quite alone in the library. He looked around. What had happened here? It was clear that Coddington’s death had not been an accident, but in that case why did the professor have the pearls? Had he snatched them from the thief and been killed for his pains? But then, why had the thief not taken the necklace back before he escaped? It was all most perplexing.
It was eerily silent in the library, and it now struck Freddy that he was all alone with a murdered man. Who knew where the murderer was now? Perhaps he was lurking somewhere in that very room, in one of the alcoves, planning another desperate move. Freddy swallowed and looked around for something heavy. There were plenty of large books, but a book was not much use as a weapon. His eye fell on a table-lamp with a bronze base, and he went to pick it up, but it was much too unwieldy to be effective. Then he remembered the broken window. A sash weight would be the very thing. He went across to it, then stopped dead. On the sill lay three new sash weights, waiting to be installed in the window, but he was almost certain that there had been four earlier that afternoon, when all the guests had been in the library. He whistled quietly and took a closer look at the weights. They were clean and untouched. He picked one up. It must have weighed a good five pounds, and the lead felt cool and comforting in his hand. Cautiously, he moved around the library, peering around bookshelves and into alcoves, then started as he thought he heard something. Was that a creak overhead on the balcony? He moved back into the centre of the room and looked upwards, but could see nothing. The rail around the mezzanine floor was solid in places, where shelves had been built in. Perhaps somebody was hiding behind them. Freddy took a deep breath, then, shifting the weight to his other hand, cautiously climbed the stairs. Much to his relief, nobody was waiting at the top for him, and he traversed the entire length of the balcony, but it took only a few moments to see that there was no-one up here. He descended the stairs and went out into the hall. The big front doors were locked for the night, but there were any number of exits the assailant might have used. Freddy went into the small salon and tested the French windows. They were locked, too. He looked in one or two other rooms, but could find no sign that anybody had left the house.
He went back into the hall, and was just in time to see Goose hurrying down the stairs, followed by his father. Cedric’s face wore an expression that was a mixture of irritation and resignation at having been woken up for the second time that night.
‘What’s all this nonsense?’ he demanded. ‘Goose is telling me some cock-and-bull story about a dead body. This had better not be another joke.’
‘It’s not! Tell him, Freddy,’ said Goose.
‘It’s true enough,’ said Freddy. ‘Come and see.’
They went into the library. Cedric stood over the mortal remains of Professor Coddington and regarded him with disfavour.
‘Damn the fellow!’ he exclaimed at last. ‘I knew it was a mistake to invite him. Now look what’s happened. I expect we shall never hear the end of it.’
He spoke as though the professor had done this deliberately to annoy him.
‘Shall I call the police?’ said Goose.
The Duke yawned.
‘Can’t it wait until morning?’ he said. ‘He’s dead, and a few more hours won’t make him any deader. The Chief Constable rubs me the wrong way at the best of times, and I’ve had hardly
any sleep. Another couple of hours and I might be able to face him without being rude.’
‘But the murderer might still be in the house,’ Freddy pointed out.
‘Do you think so?’ said Cedric in surprise, then sighed. ‘Oh, very well, then. I suppose one can’t just leave the fellow lying there cluttering up the place forever.’
He strode into the hall, where there was a telephone just outside the library door, and began barking into the receiver.
‘He’s coming as quickly as he can,’ he said when he came back in. ‘Wasn’t too pleased to be woken up, I can tell you! He says we must keep everybody out of the library until the police get here.’
At that moment the door opened and Bea and Ro entered. Ro was wearing the pearls over her dressing-gown and was fidgeting with them, as though determined not to lose them again.
‘I thought I told you to stay upstairs,’ said Cedric. ‘We can’t have everyone milling about the place, trampling all the clues into the carpet.’
‘No, but is it really true?’ said Bea breathlessly. ‘You were joking, weren’t you, Goose?’
‘Afraid not,’ said Goose. ‘He’s here all right.’
‘For God’s sake don’t go and gawp at him,’ said Cedric testily, as his wife made a move towards the body. ‘At least, not if you want to hold your breakfast down.’
‘Is it that bad?’ said Bea. ‘Oh, poor Professor Coddington! And none of us liked him. It’s all very unfortunate.’
‘Ought we to get everybody up?’ said Ro. ‘If I went to stay at someone’s house, I should like to be informed of any escaped lunatics running around the place. It’s only polite.’
‘You don’t think he’s going to do it again, do you?’ said Cedric. ‘I should have thought one murder a day was enough for anybody, however insane. And anyway, can we be absolutely certain there is a murderer at large? I shouldn’t be a bit surprised to find out that Coddington fell over and hit his head while he was running off with the pearls.’
‘But why did he have the pearls?’ said Bea. ‘I know he wasn’t the pleasantest of people, but he didn’t seem the type to steal. And a professor, too!’
‘I don’t know,’ said Cedric. ‘Perhaps he saw them close to and lost his head over them—had some kind of brain-storm, and decided he couldn’t live without them. Who knows what goes on in people’s minds?’
Freddy wandered over to the desk and stood, gazing down at the professor’s body.
‘I thought you said we’d better leave him alone,’ said Goose.
‘I’ve just had an idea,’ said Freddy.
He crouched down next to the prone figure, averting his eyes from the unpleasant mess of Professor Coddington’s head. The professor’s dressing-gown had pockets in it. Freddy wriggled his hand into one of them and felt something hard and round. He brought it out. It was an eye-glass, of the sort used by jewellers. He regarded it thoughtfully then replaced it.
‘I don’t think he was stealing the pearls at all,’ he said as he stood up. ‘I think he just took them to have a closer look at them.’
‘What on earth for?’ said Bea.
‘Don’t you remember how interested he was in them at dinner? He said if he’d had his eye-glass with him he’d have examined them more closely. I think he took them to do just that, with every intention of putting them back.’
‘But if he wanted to examine them, then why didn’t he just ask? Why all this sneaking around in the dark?’ said Cedric, perplexed.
‘And if he just wanted to look at them, then why was he murdered, and who did it?’ said Ro. ‘Are you sure he didn’t fall and hit his head?’
This question was to Freddy.
‘It’s possible, I suppose,’ he replied. ‘The police doctor will be able to tell us more, but if you ask me it looks like a deliberate blow. Besides, I was looking for a weapon earlier and discovered that one of these is missing.’
He picked up the sash weight, which he had put on the table next to him. Cedric stared.
‘Good God!’ he said in astonishment, and went across to the window. ‘So it is. Do you mean to say someone whacked him over the head with the missing one?’
‘It’s easily heavy enough,’ said Freddy. ‘One smart tap would have been quite enough to crush his skull.’
‘But where is it?’
‘I don’t know, but presumably somebody is wandering around the house with it now—unless they’ve already escaped, of course. I had a look in a few rooms, but none of the outside doors was unlocked.’
‘He might have got out anywhere,’ said Bea. ‘What time is it? Nearly a quarter past four. The servants will be getting up soon and going in and out of doors. We shall have to ask them whether any of them were left open.’
‘Go and get Spenlow up,’ said the Duke to Goose. ‘I don’t see why he should be allowed to loll about in bed while we all run around wearing ourselves out. He can let the police in when they arrive.’
Goose departed to rouse the unfortunate butler, and the others waited. Freddy was sitting in an armchair, and found himself sinking into a doze. It had been a long night, and it looked as though there would be no staying in bed until eleven, as he would normally have done—not with a possible murderer on the loose, anyhow.
The police arrived, consisting of three or four serious men and Sir Henry Rollison, the Chief Constable. He shook hands with the Duke and they went into the study. Meanwhile, an efficient inspector informed himself of the salient facts of the matter, then politely ejected them all from the library and asked the Duchess to keep the servants away. Day was beginning to break, and the shadows had become less fearsome, and so Freddy decided to take a little walk around the house to look for signs that whoever had murdered Professor Coddington had made his escape—although he did not hold out much hope of finding any, for it seemed perfectly obvious to him that the murderer was still somewhere in the house. Why would an intruder have been wandering around the library at night? Surely his first thought on entering the house would have been to rifle through drawers and cupboards, seeking valuables? And if there had been an intruder, then why had he not taken the pearls after attacking the professor? Freddy could make no sense of it. There was more to this than met the eye, he was sure of it.
At last he had tried all the doors he could think of and found them all locked, so he went back upstairs, washed and dressed, then came downstairs again. By this time the servants were up and Freddy was able to make a rudimentary breakfast. Goose was with his father, while Bea had disappeared somewhere and Ro had returned to bed, so Freddy was left to pass the time as best he could until the other guests rose.
By half past nine most people were up and had been drawn downstairs by the activity. The news had spread fast—for it was not to be supposed that the servants would keep such extraordinary happenings to themselves—and several of the guests gathered in the breakfast-room, eager to hear what had occurred. Having eaten so early Freddy was hungry again and had come in for seconds, and he found himself assailed on all sides by questions and exclamations.
‘Why didn’t you come and fetch me?’ said an indignant Nugs. ‘I missed all the fun.’
He was still grumbling when Cynthia came in and said crossly:
‘Isn’t that police inspector simply the limit? I went to the library to find out what was happening—wholly natural curiosity, I must say—and the constable at the door wouldn’t let me in. Well, of course that was quite ridiculous, but he obviously wasn’t going to give way so I told him Sir Henry wanted to speak to him in the study. He went off and I went into the library, but I couldn’t see anything because the inspector spotted me immediately and asked what I thought I was doing there. I said I was one of the family and had a right to see what was going on, but he was obstinate, quite obstinate. Even when I told him I was a top reporter at the Clarion and asked whether he wanted to see the bad manners of the
Dorset police all over the front page he didn’t seem impressed, and chivvied me out of the room most impolitely. I shall have to have a word with Sir Henry later.’
‘It is a pity you were treated so, but it is a difficult job they do there,’ said Dr. Bachmann courteously. ‘I believe we will be better off leaving them to their work.’
‘Yes, but really—’ began Cynthia, just as the Duchess came in. ‘Oh, Bea, darling! What a thing to happen!’
Bea was looking strained.
‘Yes, it is rather dreadful,’ she said. ‘Poor Professor Coddington!’
‘Do they have any idea of what happened?’ said Lavinia Philpott. ‘Such a polite man. Who could have wanted to kill him?’
There was no answering that truthfully, so Bea contented herself with making a gesture expressive of puzzlement and dismay. She could not stop long, she said, but had merely come in to make sure that all her guests were suitably provided for. She went out just as Ralph came in, followed silently by Mrs. Dragusha. Ralph helped himself to breakfast, then sat down next to Iris, who had been sitting tearing a slice of cold toast into shreds.
‘Jolly comfortable beds here,’ he remarked. ‘I slept like a top, despite all the interruptions. Funny how these stories get twisted, isn’t it? One of the servants has just told me the most ridiculous story about a dead body. I told her not to worry herself, as it was just a silly joke, and sent her on her way. These girls are so easily thrown into a fright over nothing.’
‘It’s not a joke,’ said Iris.
‘My dear girl, I saw it with my own eyes,’ said Ralph. ‘I should think I know the difference between a dead body and a tailor’s dummy. And I caught Freddy in the act—so you see, there’s no doubt at all.’
‘What are you talking about?’ said Iris.
‘Oh, Freddy thought it would be funny to try and scare me with a silly ghost rig-up that wouldn’t have fooled a child,’ said Ralph, in a maddeningly superior tone.
