'Because,' Deveraux said, 'he knew that Felman was in the clear: that as soon as we confirmed Anna's kidnapping, we'd no longer consider him a serious murder suspect. As Martin Adler, on the other hand, he can offer no reason at all why he shouldn't have killed Batchev.'
'Look, for the love of Mike,' Adler said, 'don't you think Anna Felman's safety is important to me? I know the kid - I'm very fond of her. I wasn't going to put her life in danger. I agree I kept quiet for just the very reason you said: I knew I wasn't guilty and I didn't want you wasting time trying to pin the murders on me, and letting the real killer get away. But you don't imagine I thought I could keep it up for more than a couple of days, do you? And I didn't attempt to deceive the Duke on the telephone. I told him what had really happened and what I intended to do. I asked him not to announce Felman's death for the time being - and in the event that a request from the British police for photos of Adler or Felman was received either there or at our London embassy, to ensure that my picture was sent for his and his for mine. In fact, I'm not sure yet how you discovered the truth.'
Deveraux said: 'Wilkins simply asked Scotland Yard to get a photo of Martin Adler from the London office of your country's leading newspaper.'
Adler shrugged. 'Well, I couldn't think of everything.'
'What were you doing in Batchev's room that night?' Deveraux asked.
'Like you said, I was hoping to get some dirt on him -something that would give me a lever to use against him, or perhaps some clue as to where Anna was being held. It was a forlorn sort of hope, but I felt I had to take any chance, however slight. And I guess I've got to own up to something. It's due to me Fotheringay got drugged.'
'What do you mean?'
'I slipped a sleeping-draught in Batchev's coffee that night, so as I'd be able to search his room without waking him. Somehow Fotheringay must have got it instead.'
Gerry gave an eager nod. 'Yes, Batchev suddenly changed his mind after the cup was passed to him, and said he'd have black instead. So Algy took his cup.'
'Perhaps he spotted me lacing it,' Adler said, 'though I don't see how he could have. Nor why it made Fotheringay sleep for so long. Anyway' - he looked towards Algy - 'I'm sorry, buddy. I wouldn't have had it happen.'
But there was no reply. Algy's head had dropped and his eyes were closed. Gerry leaned over and gave him a poke. He jerked awake and smiled vaguely round.
Deveraux said: 'What happened in Batchev's room?'
'Search me. I left my own room at exactly two-seventeen. I imagined Batchev would be well away by then. I opened his door very quietly and slipped in. I was just going to switch on my torch when I heard a board creak on the far side of the room. I thought Batchev was lying in wait for me. I couldn't understand it when he didn't switch the light on or challenge me. I didn't want to make the first move myself. So I just stood there in the dark, waiting, for over ten minutes. Then I heard two-thirty strike. I couldn't stay there for ever so I started to creep towards the door. The next thing I knew someone had barged into me in the dark. He tried to jump away from me. I figured he was going to put the light on and that idea didn't appeal to me, so I hung on to him. We fairly waltzed around the room, knocking things over right, left and centre. We rolled clear across the bed and he got free of me. He blundered towards the door, but he didn't switch the light on, just ran out. That surprised me, but I wasn't intending to hang around and meditate on the phenomenon. So I hightailed it out of there at top speed. There seemed to be all sorts of things going on around me in the dark, but I was only concerned with making sure Batchev didn't find out just then that I'd been disobeying orders. I thought it was vital that he carried on thinking he'd got me under his thumb. So I started feeling my way back to my room. Lady Geraldine knows too well what happened next. Fortunately, I'd noticed the cupboard and the chair every time I'd gone to my room, and was able to find them in the dark. Then I hurried on and got into bed pronto. Somebody - you, I guess' - he nodded towards Deveraux - 'came into the room and looked at me a few minutes later, but I just lay doggo and you went away.'
Deveraux said: 'I thought from the first you were the most likely one to have locked up Lady Geraldine, and it occurred to me I might just catch you out of bed.'
'No chance. I stayed there until you came back again later and told me Batchev was missing.'
'Well,' said Deveraux, 'that's another mystery at least partially cleared up. Let's now pass on to the next: the theft of Mrs. Peabody's necklace.'
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Arrest
'We've proved beyond doubt,' Deveraux said, 'that a notorious international jewel thief known by the sobriquet of the Wraith was in this house after the burglar alarm was switched on, on Saturday night, and that Mrs. Peabody's necklace was removed from its box during the same night. But was it the Wraith who escaped through the breakfast room window, setting off the alarm in the process; or did he simply take advantage of Batchev having set off the alarm to escape quietly himself another way?
'Now, the more I thought about it, the more I found it impossible to believe that a professional thief such as the Wraith would not have known of Alderley's alarm system, or knowing of it, would have chosen to commit the robbery at a time when he would have to set off that alarm in order to escape. It was just inconceivable. You might say that he could not resist the challenge laid down in the magazine. Which, frankly, is nonsense. The Wraith is, above all, a professional. He's not going to risk his freedom and depart from the methods which have stood him in such good stead for so long in order to answer the challenge of some footling magazine. In addition, there is a further difficulty. Mr. and Mrs. Peabody's evidence shows that one or the other of them was awake and in the bedroom until Mr. Peabody left to go to the gun room a little after two-twenty-five. There was then a space of about three minutes during which their rooms were empty. Mrs. Peabody met somebody she supposed was the Wraith on the stairs just after two-thirty, and this would tie up with the necklace having been taken during those three minutes. But nobody could have known that the rooms were going to be empty at just that time. Are we to assume that the Wraith happened to enter the Peabodys' suite at precisely that moment, purely by chance? Or that he was waiting, say in one of the rooms across the corridor, on the off-chance that Mr. and Mrs. Peabody would at some time during the night both leave the room? Each of these alternatives seems equally unlikely.
'At one stage, I must confess, I did seriously suspect Mr. Peabody himself of having faked the theft. But that theory was soon abandoned. For one thing, enquiries in the United States have indicated that his financial position is as sound as a bell, and secondly there is the evidence of the Wraith's calling card. So the question remained: why should the Wraith have behaved in this incredibly reckless way, leaving so much to chance and only avoiding capture through sheer luck? It was an act of insanity.'
Deveraux paused and Gerry spoke. 'It worked though, didn't it?'
'Precisely, Lady Geraldine. It worked. Improbably, the Wraith got away with the necklace. Or was that merely what we were meant to think? For suppose he hadn't got away at all? Suppose he was still in the house?'
Lord Burford looked puzzled. 'You mean hidin' somewhere?'
'No, Lord Burford. We never seriously suspected that, though Inspector Wilkins' men did in fact make quite sure he wasn't. No - I mean still living in the house openly.'
The Countess interjected. 'I trust you're not suggesting that one of the servants—'
'No, no, Lady Burford. They are all cleared. They've all been with you far too long. No - I mean here as one of the guests. Suppose the Wraith had come to Alderley hoping to steal the necklace? Suppose he had then faced the obstacle of a foolproof burglar alarm which would prevent him leaving with the necklace, and so would immediately throw suspicion on to one of the guests when the theft was discovered? Suppose he had just been biding his time, hoping to find a way round this obstacle, when he had been woken in the early hours of the morning and told the alarm ha
d gone off and that a mysterious man had escaped from the house? In those circumstances, there'd be one obvious course: to go straight to Mrs. Peabody's room and steal the necklace there and then -knowing that the Wraith would almost certainly be thought to be the man who went through the window.'
Deveraux swung round. 'And you did it actually after alerting us all to the possibility that the necklace had been stolen - isn't that right, Mr. Evans?'
For long seconds Evans didn't move or speak. Then he slowly removed his spectacles and rubbed his eyes. 'That's right,' he said. 'I took it - just about five seconds before I woke you, H. S.' He chuckled. 'It was in my pocket all the time. Then when I was searching the east wing with Lord Burford I slipped it inside a vase in one of the lumber rooms on the top floor.'
'Is it - is it still there?' Carrie Peabody asked breathlessly.
'No, Mrs. P. I buried it near the lake yesterday. I'd been intending to come back and dig it up on one of the open days later on, when the heat was off. I shall be pleased to point out the precise spot to Wilkins' rozzers on my way out.' He looked over his shoulder. 'Are you still there, Inspector?'
'I'm here, Mr. Evans,' came Wilkins' voice from the corner.
'Well, I hope you're noticing how cooperative I'm being: admitting my guilt, making no show of resistance, giving the exact location of the stolen property. What with it being a first offence, and my having yielded to sudden temptation, I think I might get off with a couple of years in jug, don't you?'
'First offence! Sudden temptation!' Wilkins gave a snort. 'The Wraith's been operating for years.'
'What makes you think I'm the Wraith?' Evans sounded quite indignant. 'You'll never prove that.'
'What about the visiting-card?' Deveraux asked quietly.
'I've no intention of revealing my defence at this stage, old boy, but take it from me that I've got a perfectly good explanation for having it. It was my chance possession of that card which first tempted me into pretending to be the notorious Wraith.'
'Tell that to the judge,' Deveraux said. 'I fully intend to.'
Wilkins nodded to Leather, who opened the door. Two uniformed policemen came in. Leather spoke to them quietly.
Evans said: 'You want me to go with these gentlemen? Right-ho. The good secretary learns unquestioning obedience. Well, good bye, H. S. It's been a pleasure. Sorry it doesn't look as though I'm going to be able to work out my notice. Good bye, Mrs. P. Believe me, I really very much regretted robbing you. I seriously considered not stealing your necklace - until my worse self triumphed. Good bye, my lord, ladies and gentlemen. I'm sorry to leave you all at this stage. I've never been involved in a murder before and I was looking forward to learning who done it. Still, I suppose it'll be in the papers -which no doubt one can consult in the prison library.'
He went out with the two policemen. Lord Burford said: 'By jove, quite a personality, what?'
Mr. Peabody was white-faced. He said: 'I never suspected him for a moment. He actually tried to persuade us not to bring the necklace here.'
'That was a very clever bluff,' Deveraux said. 'He knew that whatever he said, Mrs. Peabody was quite certain to bring it.'
'Land's sakes,' Carrie Peabody murmured. 'Do you think he came to work for Hiram solely to get his hands on my necklace?'
Deveraux nodded. 'Twelve months would be no time to wait for such a prize. Doubtless all through your tour he's just been waiting for an opportunity. But until now you must always have been too careful for him.'
Jane asked: 'How long have you suspected him?'
'I've had my eye on him ever since a conversation I had with him on Friday afternoon. He was very eager to explain that he was thinking of leaving Mr. Peabody and staying in England for a while. He rather dragged it into the conversation. I think he might have already spotted me as a sort of sleuth and was preparing the ground, so that if and when he did the robbery and then immediately left Mr. Peabody's employ, he wouldn't arouse suspicion. Then, he passed himself off as an American on his first visit here, but he came out with the very British slang word "quid" rather glibly. Again, after the robbery, once we'd accepted firstly that the Wraith would never have stolen the necklace while the burglar alarm was set; and secondly that the murders and the robbery were unconnected (indicated by the Wraith's card and his known dislike of violence), so that the Wraith couldn't have known in advance that the window was going to be broken - both these facts indicating that the robbery took place after the alarm went off - well, then, Evans was the obvious suspect.'
'Why?' Jane asked.
'Lady Geraldine suggested the Wraith might be a woman. But I checked and found out the police knew this was not so. The Wraith was definitely known to be a man - and fairly young. And at the time the robbery was discovered only two people who fitted that description knew about the broken window and so could have taken advantage of it as I described. They were Evans - and me. I knew I wasn't the Wraith. Therefore . . .' Deveraux spread his hands. 'Wilkins made some enquiries into his background today and found it extremely hazy, with at least one of the references he gave Mr. Peabody false. So the picture was pretty clear.'
Hiram Peabody gave a sigh. 'And he was just about the best doggone secretary I ever had.'
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The Killer
Giles Deveraux crossed the room, poured himself a glass of water and drank it. Then he went back to his place. He looked round the ring of faces. Every eye was on him. Even Algy Fotheringay at last seemed fully awake.
Deveraux said: 'Assault, impersonation, suppression of evidence, and thefts of various kinds. We've cleared them all out of the way. And now we can deal with murder.
'Earlier today, Inspector Wilkins gave me a number of pointers to the truth about these murders. I won't repeat them in exactly the same form that he put them, but they were as follows: Lady Geraldine's sight, my hearing, and Miss Clifton's nostril; then, Batchev's flight, Lord Burford's collection. Wilkins' own height, and finally the weather.'
Deveraux went through them a second time, then said: 'I should add that certain of them refer to things lacking or missing. Perhaps we can try to explain them together. Who'd like to start? Lady Geraldine?'
Gerry wrinkled her nose. 'I've no idea what your hearing or my sight have got to do with it. The significance of Daddy's collection is pretty obvious - the gun that killed the Baroness came from it. Batchev's flight? I suppose it means why did he decide to leave the house so suddenly in the middle of the night. Well, I've already put forward one theory about that. As for Miss Clifton's nostril, Jane's probably got more idea about what that means.'
Jane said slowly: 'I smelt the Baroness's scent in the linen room just after I was knocked down. I remembered it later, and as a result we found her body in the passage. That's the only way my nose has been involved. What else was there?'
'The Inspector's height.'
Jane and Gerry looked at each other. Jane shrugged. Gerry said: 'Pass.'
'The weather.'
Jane said: 'The thunder drowned certain noises - such as what was going on in Anilese's room when Gerry was outside.'
'How did we do?' Gerry asked.
'Fair. Let's go back. Skip my hearing for the moment and concentrate on your sight. You said you saw the Baroness arrive back in her room at about seven minutes past two, and that she had not left it again at two-thirty. This flatly contradicts Mr. Saunders' statement that her room was empty when he arrived.'
Gerry bit her lip. She said: 'I - I thought . . .'
'You thought I'd forgotten that discrepancy, Lady Geraldine? No.'
In a voice hard with tension, Richard said: 'You agreed that there was no truth in your original reconstruction which cast me as the killer.'
Again from the dark corner, Wilkins' voice cut across the room. 'Excuse me, sir, but he didn't. You said there was no truth in it. I said there was some - though the reconstruction was largely false and didn't answer all the questions. But that that particular reconstruction was a
t fault didn't mean that you were necessarily innocent of the murder.'
Richard closed his eyes. 'Oh no.'
'But,' said Deveraux, 'something else does prove you innocent: the very important element of time. I wonder if anybody noticed one vital fact brought out by Mr. Peabody's evidence: that he took Lord Burford's gun - the one used to shoot the Baroness - from the gun room a couple of minutes before two-thirty - and that thereafter it wasn't out of his possession. He didn't shoot her himself or he would never have admitted that. So the killer must have replaced it in the gun room after shooting her and before Mr. Peabody took it. Which means that the Baroness was killed several minutes before that. Therefore, Mr. Saunders couldn't have shot her after arriving in her room a few seconds after two-thirty. By then she was already dead.'
Richard let his head fall back. 'Thank heaven,' he said.
Gerry was looking perplexed. 'But when exactly was she killed? I assure you I saw her going into her room minutes before ten past two.'
'I'm not questioning that. I'd say she was killed at about eleven or twelve minutes past.'
'But by whom?'
'You answered that question yourself earlier. The Baroness de la Roche was killed by Stanislaus Batchev.'
He looked round at the blank faces, as if waiting for some reaction. But it was as if everybody was stunned. Richard spoke first. 'In her room?'
Deveraux nodded.
Gerry said: 'But who moved the body?'
'Batchev himself.'
'He didn't, I tell you. I would have seen him.'
'Now we're back to Lady Geraldine's sight. Will you tell us again exactly what you saw from the time you arrived in the recess?'
'I saw the Baroness leave her room at about four or five minutes past two. Then—'
'Hold it there, please. She went to the gun room and took Lord Burford's Bergman Bayard and some cartridges. She knew that Batchev would be furious when he learnt she was not, after all, going to blackmail Mr. Saunders, and she wanted protection. We assume she picked the lock - a skill she could quite easily have learnt, given the life she'd been leading. She might even have done it earlier in the evening, in preparation. But of course she wouldn't take the gun until the last moment, in case Lord Burford should go to the gun room before turning in and notice its absence. Please go on.'
The Affair of the Bloodstained Egg Cosy Page 22
