Rattigan peered disbelievingly over his shoulder. 'Now I've seen everything,' he declared.
'Here we are, gentlemen, one booby-trap,' grinned Felix. 'Makes up for the cloakroom debacle anyway. Here, I'll pick it up on the folder; save handling it. You pull the drawer out.'
The gun having been dabbed and photographed, they one by one examined the mechanism.'
'Clever,' said Nash. 'Simple too. Note the solenoid.'
'What next, radio waves?' grumbled Rattigan. 'The world's gone mad. Anyway, I told you he was hiding something.'
'Another Webley,' said Yardley. 'One wonders how many there are out there.'
'Too many,' said Felix. 'Where's that butler? He can't be so hard to find.'
'Sir,' said Mabel, coming in. We did look for Mr Jessup but he seems to have gone out.'
'Packed a suitcase has he? No, don't answer that. Check the garage, one of you. There should be two cars there.'
'We've done that,' said Mabel. 'Three, counting Miss Pickles'. It's only a guess, sir, but Cook says Dennis didn't come home to his dinner. He never misses normally. I expect his dad's gone out looking for him. And Miss Pickles is missing as well so she's probably gone with him. She's very fond of our Denny, sir.'
'Wouldn't he normally tell someone, if he was going out?'
'Yes, he would, but perhaps he was too worried about Denny to wait. I expect he'll be back soon.'
'All right, we'll just have to wait. Thank you, Mabel.'
Chapter Seven
Some half-mile away, the butler and Dottie were hurrying across the park.
'This is very kind of you, Miss Pickles,' said Jessup. 'I really do appreciate it.'
'There are conditions,' said Dottie, trying to match his loping stride. 'Condition number one: you are to stop calling me Miss Pickles and call me Dottie. We're not in the house now. And like it or not I shall call you George.'
Jessup smiled wryly. 'You'll probably find something more colourful to call me when you know why I'm so worried.'
'That's the other condition. Tell me the whole thing, or else! Where exactly are we going?'
'He once let fall there are some derelict buildings the local children play in. They can't be far away and I've seen an old house on my travels that's probably one of them. You can't keep them away from places like that unfortunately.'
'Yes, he said something of the sort to me. Does he never go missing normally?'
'He does go off on his own but he's never missed his dinner before. Also I have a particular reason to be concerned on this occasion.' He turned to look around him. 'He's not in the park anyway, we'd have spotted him by now. I did wonder if he might have found a pal and lost track of time but it seems not.'
'He still might have. Shouldn't we have brought the car?'
'I'd have had to tell them I was going and they might have stopped me. It can't be far. Are you getting tired?'
'I never get tired. Why would they stop you?'
'Because of what I've done. I've been hoping they wouldn't find out just yet, while I decide what to do about it, but I expect they will. I've heard about Felix; he may look a bit of a dandy but he's mustard apparently, and what he misses, that Rattigan probably won't. He was looking at me very suspiciously when I gave them my statement, as if he could read my thoughts.'
Dottie abruptly stopped and faced him. 'George, please don't tell me you murdered Henry.'
'Good grief no! Not that I wasn't tempted a time or two. But they may think I did, especially when they know what happened. I've been very foolish, I'm afraid.'
'Let's have it then,' said Dottie, walking on. 'Leave nothing out.'
Jessup sighed deeply before beginning. 'When I found Mr Vicenzi dead,' he said,' I realised that he must have been shot from behind. I don't know why I looked behind his chair but I did, and found some dangling wires where there shouldn't have been any. They led to a pistol lying under the desk My first mistake was to take a closer look. Or maybe it was fortunate that I did; I can't make my mind up about that. I recognised it immediately. It was mine.'
'Yours!'
Jessup nodded. 'My old service revolver. A lot of us kept them after the war. Dennis used to play with it a bit – there was no ammunition, of course – but it was too heavy for a child really and it just ended up kicking about the garage. He'd also managed to spill blue paint on it, which is how I knew it was mine. It had been wired up to a solenoid. Do you know what that is?'
'Yes, although I'd never seen one until I found one in Dennis's box of bits. Dennis knew what it was, though, because I asked him. So it was a booby-trap? Is that what you're saying?'
'Yes it was; and made of bits and pieces, if I'm not mistaken, from that very box. It was wired into the bell circuit and designed to shoot Vicenzi when he rang for someone, probably me. You can imagine what went through my mind. Or maybe you can't. Did Dennis have anything to do with it? Had someone induced him to build the thing? He's quite capable of it. He helped me do some work on the bell system, which is why we had some of the original solenoids lying about. He liked to play with them and see what they could do. Very likely the bell wire came from there as well. It even crossed my mind he might have done it off his own bat.'
'Surely not!'
'It's absurd of course. But don't forget I had just moments to act. I was panicking, to be honest. And . . .' he hesitated, 'there's something else. I've been given my marching orders. I'm working out my notice.'
'Yes, George,' said Dottie, 'I know.'
Jessup looked pained. 'Oh, you do. Well, it occurred to me he might have been seeking revenge on my behalf. Come to that, they might think I was seeking revenge. Anyway, I decided to hide the evidence. I bundled everything together and shoved it in one of the desk drawers under some papers. I intended to retrieve it when they'd gone home, but I couldn't; they'd locked and sealed the door. I could have broken the seal but they'd have known someone had been in. I still can't decide which is worse, to go in and take it, or leave it there and perhaps have them find it. They'll have to be told eventually of course, or they'll never work out who did it, and the longer I leave it, the more trouble I'll be in. They're quite likely to lock me up, and then what will happen to Dennis? And now the little tyke has cleared off!'
'George, stop a minute,' said Dottie, grabbing his hand. 'Oh you poor chap, you're all of a dither. Listen, they may not lock you up, not when they understand your reasons, and if they do, I'll take care of Denny. You're not to worry about that.'
'You'd really do that?'
'Of course I would.'
'I don't know what to say.'
'Don't say anything. Come on, we've got to find him first.'
It was rather further than Jessup remembered, in a rundown area of boarded-up shops and dilapidated properties.
'Here's the place I was thinking of. Oh, confound it! This is no good.'
They stared with dismay at the hive of industry before them. The derelict house was gone, and in its place was a building site, the roof tiles already going on.
Seeing them standing there, a prosperous-looking middle-aged man, probably the builder himself, came over. 'Interested in a nice semi, sir? Three bedrooms, two receptions, upstairs bathroom. Just the job for a young couple like yourselves. Five hundred and twenty-five, freshly decorated in the colours of your choice. Boards'll be up next week.'
'We're actually looking for a small boy,' said Dottie, rescuing a blushing Jessup from his confusion. 'He's eleven years old, rather skinny, with fair hair and glasses. We've lost him. Building sites are a magnet for them aren't they?'
'Don't I know it! The stuff we lose,' said the man. 'Not,' he hastened to assure them, 'that I'm suggesting your lad would do that. Charlie! Seen a fair haired kid with glasses hanging about?'
Charlie hadn't. 'You might try the old convent,' he said. 'Been empty, oh, ten years. I seen 'em in there often enough.'
*
'Sir,' said Mabel, 'Mrs Andrew says she can't find Mr Andrew's gun. She's tu
rned the room upside down and so has Mary. They've also done the other bedrooms, and now they're doing downstairs. They won't find it there and I told them so but I suppose they had to check.'
'Never mind; it'll probably turn up. No sign of the fugitives, I suppose?'
'No, sir, but Dennis can't have gone far. I'm sure they'll be back soon.'
'All right, Mabel, thank you.'
'Should we go looking for them, sir?' said Nash.
'No, I don't think so. Mabel is probably right and they'll be back eventually. In the meantime we have some thinking to do. In some ways, you know, we're back to square one. Any of our suspects might have planted that device; it needn't have been Jessup. In fact, I'm wondering if he was trying to protect the real culprit. It would make more sense.'
Rattigan nodded. 'That had crossed my mind too.'
'Lots of possibilities when you think about it. He may have felt beholden to them, or frightened of them. He may even carry a torch for one of them. Mrs Vicenzi, for example.'
'Well at least we have the murder weapon now,' said Rattigan. 'That should tell us something. Not the finest piece of hardware is it? Chances are it came from this house, I should've thought.'
'Pretty knocked about,' agreed Nash, and covered in paint. That's a bit odd, don't you think?'
'Child's toy,' said Yardley, a family man.
Felix clicked his fingers. 'Of course! Well done, Paul. I'll bet you it was young Dennis's. He's the only child here, that we know of.'
'And Jessup no doubt recognised it. What would you do if you found your kid's toy set up to kill? You'd be tempted to hide it first and think later.'
'Rattigan nodded. Well it fits, certainly. If so, he must have been wetting himself when you questioned him. Foolish, though. We'd have been bound to work it out eventually.' He corrected himself. 'I mean, you'd have worked it out, sir.'
Felix chuckled. 'If I hadn't, one of you would have. However, a few things bother me about this. Tell me, gentlemen, have either of you handsome young bucks got any pull with the maids? Don't be bashful now.'
'Er, I've seen Ida looking in my direction a few times,' admitted Nash. 'Of course, she's very young.'
'Good, then I've got a job for you.'
*
The convent was no great distance away, though further than Jessop had ever imagined his son going.
'They're like cats, I expect,' said Dottie. 'You never know where they go either. Gosh! Is this it? I shouldn't want to be in there after dark.'
It was a traditionally inward-facing range of buildings in a rather forbidding gothic style, though probably not so very old. Cast-iron gates gave onto cloisters with the shattered remains of a great east window rising beyond.
'So that's where the bits of stained glass came from,' said Dottie.
'I'll give him stained glass when I catch him.'
The gates were padlocked, but beside them a little wooden postern was hanging loose on its hinges. It appeared to have been kicked in. The cloisters looked relatively sound from the outside but stepping through the postern they became aware of the full extent of their ruination. Pieces of guttering and roof tiles lay everywhere underfoot; items of furniture had been dragged out and some of it burned; and a central statue of the Virgin had been smashed.
'This is awful!' said Dottie, appalled at the wanton destruction.
'Listen!' said Jessup. 'Kids.'
Following the sound of piping voices they found that a portion of the inner buildings had been severely damaged at some time by fire and the roof had entirely collapsed. A substantial wall had fallen too – only minutes before, judging by the acrid cloud of dust hanging over it – and this seemed to be the focus of juvenile activity. A dozen or so boys of about Dennis's age and one very grubby little girl were frenziedly throwing aside bricks and pieces of timber. There was no sign of Dennis.
'Here's grown-ups,' someone cried, and they all crowded round them.
'What's going on here?' demanded Jessup.
'He's under there,' said a boy, pointing. 'Under that wall.'
'It fell on 'im,' said another.
'No he climbed on it.'
'Yes, 'e climbed on it an' then it fell on 'im.'
'Who is it?' said Dottie. 'Do you know?'
They all shook their heads.
'Don't know 'is name.'
'Big boy,' said the girl helpfully, which as she was the smallest wasn't very illuminating.'
'Fair hair?'
'Yeth, and glatheth.'
For the first time in her life, Dottie knew terror. 'Was he about this tall, and quite thin?'
'Yeth,' agreed the child.
Jessup knelt at the spot and listened. 'Be quiet now. I want to see if I can hear him. You under there, can you hear me?'
'Is 'e dead?' asked someone. 'I reckon 'e's dead. It didn't 'arf fall 'ard.
'Shush!' said Jessup fiercely. 'I'm trying to listen.'
They silently waited while Jessup moved from place to place along the wall. Eventually he lay down and put his ear to a crack. 'I can hear something, I think. Is anyone there?'
Dottie, silently praying, felt a tap on her arm.
'Hello, Miss Pickles,' said Dennis. 'What are you doing here?'
With a little cry, Dottie turned and swept him into her arms. 'Oh Denny, we were afraid it was you!'
'Of course it wasn't me,' said Dennis, gently extricating himself. 'Look, I fetched a policeman.'
The constable, quite young, reached for his notebook. 'Young man here says there's a trapped child.'
'It seems the wall fell on him,' said Dottie. 'My friend is listening for him.'
'He's alive,' said Jessup. 'I can hear him sobbing. He's well under, by the sound of it. And boy are you in trouble!'
'I haven't done anything,' said Dennis indignantly. 'I was just playing.'
'Seems like we need the fire brigade,' said the policeman. 'It'd take all day to shift this lot.'
'By all means fetch the fire brigade,' said Jessup, 'but they may not find it that easy. I have some experience in this sort of thing, so if you're prepared to give me a free hand . . .' He looked up questioningly.
'All right, sir,' said the constable, clearly glad to be relieved of the responsibility. 'I'll go and fetch them now.' And remounting his bicycle he departed.
'If it's the usual bunch of clodhoppers,' said Jessop, 'I don't give much for his chances.' Walking round to the end of the wall, he crouched down. 'See how it's fallen? Most of it's a solid lump of bricks, and there's a gap under it where the last few courses stayed put. That's probably what saved him.' He turned to the boys. 'Right, lads, I want you to remove these loose bricks from where I'm standing, so I can get under the wall. Just these ones, understand? Get in a row and pass them hand to hand, like a chain; it'll be quicker. Yes, that's right.'
'Where shall we put them, sir?'
'Anywhere out of the way. Dennis, I want you to find me some bits of timber to use as props. Something sturdy and about six feet long. Those over there might do.'
Dottie watched, impressed, as all the children from the largest to the smallest set to work with a will, shifting the bricks Jessup passed to them. He'd taken off his morning coat and rolled up his shirtsleeves, revealing a musculature rivalling Lewis's, albeit oddly scarred in places. This was a new side to the butler not previously suspected. He seemed to know exactly what to do, and they appeared to instinctively trust him. She hastened after Dennis to look for wood.
In five minutes the ground was cleared and Jessup was on his knees, gingerly feeding lengths of timber under the wall and propping them up on bricks. 'Can you hear me?' he asked the boy.
'Yes, sir.' He sounded less muffled now.
'What's your name?'
'Roger, sir, Roger Jackson.'
'All right, Roger Jackson. Now listen. Are the bricks actually lying on you or are you in a hole under them?'
'They're on my legs. It hurts!'
'Just be glad you can feel them. I'm coming in there
now and you're not to move a muscle or you might bring it down on us. Understand?' Lying in the cleared space he began to wriggle head first under the fallen wall, stopping for a while when only his legs were showing but finally disappearing entirely.
No child spoke during this manoeuvre, and Dottie was sure that every one of them could hear her heart pounding. She felt a hand in hers and found it was Dennis's. She squeezed it reassuringly.
'Got him,' said Jessup after a while. 'Can you feed me some wood? Gently now. And a few bricks, different sizes.'
Crouching down, Dottie managed to pass him the wood, but he was unable to reach the bricks.
'Dennis, can you slide in here and push them to me?'
'Oh no you don't,' said Dottie firmly and lying down she also wriggled under the wall, pushing the bricks ahead of her as she went.
There followed a good deal of grunting and puffing as Jessup somehow levered the lengths of wood into place on the bricks, creating something in the nature of roof beams. 'Now,' he said, 'see if you can move those legs.'
'Yes, sir, I can.'
'Good, then try to slither past me, like a snake. Steady now; keep your head down and take your time.'
'It hurts! It hurts my elbows!'
'Never mind that, just do it. Try not to disturb anything above you. That's it, well done. Dottie, can you back up and haul him out?'
There was a loud snap, a scream from the boy and a cry of pain from Jessup, the wall distinctly dropping. Choking dust filled their makeshift tunnel.
'George! Are you all right?'
'Broken my arm, I think. Can you get him out?'
Dottie was just able to roll sideways, allowing Dennis and another child to grab the victim and haul him past her, a buckle of his departing shoe giving her a nasty scratch in passing. 'What do you need?' she said, her eyes watering.
The Curious Death of Henry J. Vicenzi (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 5) Page 10
