The Affair of the Bloodstained Egg Cosy

by James Anderson

  'I mean, something really significant?'

  'Yes.'

  'Do you think you can get it out of him?'

  'Ooh, I doubt it. He's a skilled politician. It would be too much to expect a simple country bobby—'

  'Wilkins, you're a humbug. I think you're dying to have another go at him. And I think you should - now.'

  'Do you really? Well, if you say so, I'll give it a try. But don't expect too much. I'm not sanguine, not sanguine at all.'

  'Well, before you see him, I've got something else to tell you. It might be useful.'

  He took out his notebook and, almost word for word, related the story Gerry had told him. When he'd finished he said: 'No conclusions from me - you don't need 'em. I'll leave you to draw your own.'

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Cross-Questioning of a Minister

  Richard came into the music room where Wilkins was waiting. Sergeant Leather, armed with a shorthand book, sat unobtrusively in the corner.

  'Well, Inspector, what is it?'

  'I thought you ought to know straightaway, sir, that the Baroness was murdered.'

  Richard closed his eyes. 'No - no possibility of suicide?'

  'No, sir; not unless someone found her body with the gun lying by it and deliberately replaced the pistol with another.' He explained what the ballistics examination had shown.

  Richard looked dazed. 'It's unbelievable,' he said.

  'Have you got any idea of who might have wanted to harm her?'

  'None at all. I cannot believe anybody in this house could have done it. What motive could anyone have?'

  'There you might be able to help, sir. Did the Baroness drop any hint that she might have met one of the other guests before?'

  'No.'

  'That any of them looked familiar to her - or reminded her of someone else?'

  'No.'

  'Did she refer to the other ladies and gentlemen at all?'

  'Hardly. She said she was delighted to meet my closest relatives; how kind my sister-in-law was; things like that.'

  'She didn't mention Batchev?'

  Richard shook his head.

  'And you never saw them together?'

  'Never.'

  'What would be your explanation of the Baroness having made a telephone call on Saturday afternoon, during which she said: "I don't want a certain party to see us together again now. I'm going to ask him to come to my room late tonight, about two-fifteen or two-thirty"?'

  Richard's eyes widened and for a second he stopped breathing. Then he said: 'How extraordinary. To whom was the call made?'

  'I would guess to her driver - the man she called Roberts. He was staying at the Rose & Crown, but he left shortly after the Baroness made the call, and took the five-forty-two to town.'

  'I see. And what's your explanation?'

  'My first thought, sir, was that the "certain party" she mentioned must be you. But who, I wondered, would that make the man she was going to invite to her room?' He paused, then waited, almost forcing Richard to answer the question for him.

  'Well, presumably, since she does seem to have had some connection with him of which I knew nothing, it would be Adler - Batchev, I should say.'

  'Exactly how my mind worked, sir. But unfortunately, there's a snag to that.'

  'Oh?'

  'Yes. The Baroness-said: "I don't want a certain party to see us together again now." That means the certain party had seen her and this other man together at some time. But you said you never had seen Batchev and her together. Do you follow me, sir?'

  Stiff-faced, Richard said: 'I follow you.'

  'I then wondered if you had seen her talking privately or in a clandestine or furtive manner to any of the other guests. Er, had you?'

  'Definitely not.'

  'It doesn't look as though you could have been the certain party at all, does it, sir?'

  Richard didn't reply.

  'Do you suppose Batchev could have been the certain party?'

  'It's patently possible.'

  'Then the obvious assumption would be that, er, you were the . . .' Wilkins broke off, looking embarrassed. 'I suppose the lady didn't by any chance invite you to her room that night, sir?'

  Richard looked straight at him. 'Actually, she did.'

  'Oh? Did she?' Wilkins nodded very slowly. 'I see.'

  'I'm sorry, Inspector. I wasn't attempting to mislead you. Please note that I told you as soon as you asked me. Frankly, earlier I couldn't see that her invitation was germane to your enquiry.'

  'Because you didn't go, sir?'

  'I - I did go. But I didn't see her. She wasn't in her room.'

  'Oh, really? What time was that?'

  'Two-thirty struck while I was on my way along the corridor.' Again Wilkins gave his slow nod. 'You may have cleared up one mystery, at least. Mr. Deveraux heard someone crossing the landing going towards the west wing at just about that time. That would have been you, I take it?'

  'I imagine so.'

  'That was seconds before he was struck on the head from behind. You didn't hear any sound at all?'

  'I did hear an indeterminate sort of scuffling noise, and a sound like somebody tripping. Certainly nothing to indicate a man had been attacked or was in any kind of trouble. Had I done so, I would naturally have switched the light on and gone to his aid.'

  'What in fact did you do, sir?'

  'I went on to the Baroness's room.'

  'In the dark?'

  'Yes.'

  'Forgive my asking, sir; I'm sure you were preoccupied at the time, but didn't it strike you as odd that somebody was moving about behind you in the corridor in the dark? Didn't it occur to you to investigate?'

  'Well, no. You see, the Baroness had been very insistent that nobody at all should see us again together that night. She made me promise not to mention it to anybody, and to come in the dark.'

  'May I ask what your reaction was to that request, sir?'

  'I thought it was a trifle strange. I imagined she was ultra-sensitive about her reputation.'

  'Yes, of course. Very natural. And you were prepared to abide by her wishes even to the extent of refusing to risk being seen merely walking along the corridor - even though this entailed ignoring the fact that someone was prowling about in complete darkness in a house full of priceless jewellery and objects d'art? I'd like to say, if I may make so bold, that it's a real privilege to meet such a gallant gentleman.'

  He didn't give Richard time to answer, but went on: 'Did you have any idea what she wanted to see you about?'

  'No.'

  'What exactly had she said?'

  'Simply that it was very important she speak to me, and would I come to her room late, after everyone was in bed.'

  'I'm sure you had a good reason, sir, but would you mind telling me why you didn't suggest to her that you talked down here - in this room or the library? That could not have damaged the reputation of the most susceptible lady.'

  Richard didn't answer. Seconds passed. Then he seemed to sag. 'All right, Inspector. I give in. I had guessed there was a link between her and one of the other people in this house and it was this person she wanted kept in ignorance of our meeting.'

  'Batchev - Adler as you knew him?'

  'I thought it had to be him - or just conceivably Felman.'

  'I know you can't tell me what took place at the talks, but was it something that happened during them that made you think this?'

  Richard nodded.

  'The Baroness had been blackmailing you, hadn't she, sir?' Richard buried his head in his hands. He said: 'I can't expect you to believe this. She'd threatened to blackmail me. She brought up something that happened many years ago and told me she was going to reveal it if I didn't make certain concessions in the talks.' He looked up. 'But she withdrew the threat, Inspector. She spoke to me after dinner on Saturday. She told me that she couldn't go through with it, that I didn't have to worry any more. She also said that if I went to her room late that night she would
explain everything. It was her insistence that I should come secretly which made me realise she was frightened of somebody in the house; it followed logically that it was almost certainly Batchev.'

  'You assumed it was he behind you in the corridor when you were on your way to her room?'

  'Yes.'

  'So you deliberately hurried on?'

  'Yes, in case he switched on the light and saw me.'

  'What did you do when you found she wasn't in her room?'

  'It first occurred to me that as she was mixed up with a blackmailer, she might have come to harm. So I looked quickly round the bedroom - in the wardrobe and under the bed - in case she had been tied up or knocked out - or worse. Then I merely sat and waited.'

  'Did you hear anything outside the room?'

  'I thought at one time I heard a distant sort of bumping. It must have been my niece banging to be let out, but at the time I decided it was thunder.'

  'You didn't hear the sound of the fight in Batchev's room?'

  'No. You must remember that I was at almost the extreme end of the west wing and that sound does not carry easily through the doors and walls of Alderley. And then, of course, there was the storm.'

  'How long did you wait there?'

  'Six or seven minutes.'

  'Then you returned to your own room?'

  'Yes.'

  'Arriving there at approximately two-thirty-eight?'

  'About that.'

  'You didn't see or hear anyone on your way back?'

  'No.'

  'Did you hear the burglar alarm?'

  'No, but again I would not expect to. On the first floor it sounds only in my brother's bedroom. The first thing I knew about anything being amiss was when Gerry came to my room. I'd just that moment got back to bed.'

  'Then you dressed again and went downstairs?'

  'That's right.'

  'But not for about twelve or fifteen minutes?'

  'A little less I would think.'

  'What did you do during that time?'

  'After dressing, I just sat and thought - and worried.'

  'I see.' Wilkins scanned his notes and tapped his teeth with his pencil. 'Just one more point, sir. On the telephone the Baroness referred to asking someone to come to her room between two-fifteen and two-thirty. You said simply that she asked you to come, er - when, Jack?'

  ' "Late, after everyone was in bed", sir.'

  'That's it,' Wilkins said. 'Did she in fact mention the specific time, sir?'

  'Yes, I remember now, she did. She must have thought he would be up until then.'

  'You left it till the very last minute, sir, didn't you? In fact, you didn't actually arrive until a few seconds after two-thirty. I would have expected you to be more anxious than that to hear what she had to tell you.'

  'I was. But I was sitting up in my room waiting for two-fifteen when I fell asleep in the chair. I didn't wake until nearly half-past two.'

  'Ah.' Wilkins nodded in comprehension. 'Very understandable. You must have had a tiring day - with the negotiations and everything. Tell me, do you think Batchev could have known that the Baroness had backed out of the blackmail and that his scheme had failed?'

  'Yes. He'd been asking for some quite unreasonable concessions. I played for time and told him I'd let him know later. He must have thought I was on the brink of caving in. Then on Saturday night, after she had told me her decision, I went to Batchev and informed him there was nothing doing. I think he was quite shaken.'

  'Thank you, sir. I think that's everything. I appreciate your being so helpful.'

  Richard stared. 'Don't you want to know about the blackmail?'

  'Not unless you especially want to tell me.'

  'I certainly do not.'

  'Then I needn't keep you any longer, sir. If the sergeant types out an account of your movements during the early hours of the night of the murder, you'd have no objection to signing it, I suppose? I'll be asking everyone to do the same.'

  'I've no objection.'

  'Thank you, sir.'

  Richard left the room. Wilkins watched him until the door closed, then turned hastily to Sergeant Leather. 'Quick, my lad - go and find Lady Geraldine. Bring her here, sharp as you can - my compliments, greatly obliged, all that sort of thing. But don't let her talk to Mr. Saunders first. If he should try to speak to her on the way, stop him somehow - tell her I said it's desperately important she conies quickly - anything. We don't want 'em getting together and changing their stories before we've had a chance to get signed statements.'

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Richard's Story

  After leaving Deveraux, Jane felt restless and full of suppressed energy. She found it almost impossible to stay in one place, and began prowling aimlessly round the house and grounds, getting in the way of servants and gardeners. At last, feeling she would burst if she didn't do something, she went to look for Gerry. She couldn't find her at first, but eventually Merryweather informed her that Gerry was in the music room - 'with the constabulary person, miss'.

  Jane hung impatiently about outside until Gerry emerged, then pounced and demanded a game of tennis.

  'Oh, darling, no.'

  'Why not?'

  'I don't think we should, with two of our guests just murdered.'

  'Tommyrot. What possible harm can it do them?'

  'Nothing. It's just the look of the thing.'

  'Who cares about the look of the thing! Come on, don't be mean. I just must have some action or I'll go mad.'

  'Why don't you go for a ride?'

  'I don't feel like riding. I want to hit something.'

  Gerry sighed. 'Oh, all right. But I don't like playing you when you're in this sort of mood. You'll make mincemeat of me. I might as well play Helen Wills.'

  * * *

  Jane and Gerry had played four games when Richard strolled up to the court. He sat down on a bench and watched them. At the end of the set, won by Jane 6-0, an exhausted Gerry begged for a breather. They went across and sat by him.

  'You seem red-hot today, Jane,' he said.

  Gerry said: 'She's all keyed-up and she's taking it out on me.'

  'Why's that?' he asked.

  Jane shrugged. 'I don't know. All this happening at Alderley, I suppose. Spoiling the party. It's all wrong. Alderley ought to be a haven of peace. It annoys me to see it desecrated like this. I'm angry with the Wraith, and I'm angry with Batchev and with Anilese for bringing their dirt—' She broke off. 'I'm sorry, Richard. I shouldn't have said that. It was inexcusable.'

  'That's all right, my dear. It's true. They were both involved in pretty nasty business. I had my eyes opened about Anilese. Which may be the one good thing to come out of this whole schemozzle.' He looked at his niece. 'You were quite right about her, Gerry.'

  'She knew you were here all the time?'

  'She did.'

  'I was sure of it from the very start.'

  'Why did she come here?' Jane asked him.

  Richard had picked up Jane's racquet and was looking down at it, plucking at the strings. 'She came here to blackmail me,' he said.

  Jane stiffened and Gerry's eyes widened. Gerry said: 'Blackmail! But she couldn't. I mean, what grounds—?' She stopped short. 'Sorry'.

  'What grounds would she have - what was she threatening to reveal? Well, it goes back a long way.'

  Gerry was red-faced. 'Please, Richard, I didn't mean to pry.'

  'I'd like you to know, Gerry. It seems as though it's bound all to come out shortly, and it'll be better if you hear it from me now. Your mother and father know the whole story, so it's only fair you should, too.'

  Jane started to stand up. 'I'll leave you then—'

  Richard put a hand on her arm. 'No, stay, Jane, please. You're one of the family.'

  Jane sat down again, concealing the warm glow of pleasure his words gave her.

  Richard said: 'It's not a long story. I first met Anilese in France in 1917. I was a very green lieutenant, only out from England six
months. I was stationed at Amiens. We met at party given by the wife of some local dignitary. I thought Anilese was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen. For the first time in my life I fell madly in love. For weeks I haunted her and eventually she led me to believe she loved me too. Almost immediately I proposed. To my joy, she accepted me. Our romance lasted three months, during which time I was promoted Captain.

  'Then one day Anilese came to me frantic with worry. She had just heard that a cousin of hers, a young man called Pierre, with whom she'd been brought up and who had been like a brother to her, had been arrested on a charge of spying for the Germans. He had been tried and condemned to death. He was being held temporarily in a British army guardhouse, the local jail being full. Anilese swore to me that she knew Pierre was innocent. She told me a long story about suppressed evidence which seemed to prove it. She convinced me that a fearful miscarriage of justice was going to take place and she begged me to try to save Pierre's life.'

  Richard paused. Then in a curiously flat voice, he said: 'Eventually, after much heart-searching, I agreed to try to help him escape. I need not go into the details. Suffice it to say that I worked out a plan to free him, which succeeded, and very early one morning I myself led him to a pension where Anilese was waiting. She had a change of clothes, money, and papers for him. She had obtained a motor car, and the plan was that she was to drive Pierre to Dijon, where he had friends who would get him across the border to Switzerland. I left immediately to return to my quarters, arranging to meet Anilese the next day, after she got back.'

  Richard stood Jane's racquet carefully up against the side of the bench. He looked up. 'Five minutes after I left, the house was destroyed by a stray German bomb. They pulled Pierre's body out of the ruins the next day. Anilese was not identified among the victims, but there were a number of unrecognisable women's bodies brought out; and when I discovered the motor car she had borrowed parked a few blocks away from the pension, and when she did not turn up for our meeting the next day, I had to assume that she had been killed. She was officially listed as missing. I was the only person left alive who knew she'd been in the building, and as the body of the escaped prisoner had been found there, I could not admit I knew she had been there too - nor take too great an interest in the house or its occupants. There was naturally a lot of talk about the irony of Pierre's escaping the firing squad only to be killed by a German bomb, and about justice having caught up with him after all. I discovered then that he had unquestionably been guilty of spying.