by Ngaio Marsh
“A practical joke? On him?” Arthur gave an unpleasant screech of laughter. “Do you hear that, Guy?”
“Shut up,” said Guy. “After all, he is dead.”
“It seems almost too good to be true, doesn’t it?”
“Don’t be a bloody fool, Arthur. Pull yourself together. Can’t you see what this means? They think he’s been murdered.”
“Murdered! They’re wrong. None of us had the nerve for that, Mr. Inspector. Look at me. My hands are so shaky they told me I’d never be able to paint. That dates from when I was a kid and he shut me up in the cellars for a night. Look at me. Look at Guy. He’s not so vulnerable, but he caved in like the rest of us. We were conditioned to surrender. Do you know—”
“Wait a moment,” said Alleyn quietly. “Your brother is quite right, you know. You’d better think before you speak. This may be a case of homicide.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Guy quickly. “That’s extraordinarily decent of you. Arthur’s a bit above himself. It’s a shock.”
“The relief, you mean,” said Arthur. “Don’t be such an ass. I didn’t kill him and they’ll find it out soon enough. Nobody killed him. There must be some explanation.”
“I suggest that you listen to me,” said Alleyn. “I’m going to put several questions to both of you. You need not answer them, but it will be more sensible to do so. I understand no one but your father touched this radio. Did any of you ever come into this room while it was in use?”
“Not unless he wanted to vary the program with a little bullying,” said Arthur.
Alleyn turned to Guy, who was glaring at his brother.
“I want to know exactly what happened in this house last night. As far as the doctors can tell us, your father died not less than three and not more than eight hours before he was found. We must try to fix the time as accurately as possible.”
“I saw him at about a quarter to nine,” began Guy slowly. “I was going out to a supper-party at the Savoy and had come downstairs. He was crossing the hall from the drawing-room to his room.”
“Did you see him after a quarter to nine, Mr. Arthur?”
“No. I heard him, though. He was working in here with Hislop. Hislop had asked to go away for Christmas. Quite enough. My father discovered some urgent correspondence. Really, Guy, you know, he was pathological. I’m sure Dr. Meadows thinks so.”
“When did you hear him?” asked Alleyn.
“Some time after Guy had gone. I was working on a drawing in my room upstairs. It’s above his. I heard him bawling at little Hislop. It must have been before ten o’clock, because I went out to a studio party at ten. I heard him bawling as I crossed the hall.”
“And when,” said Alleyn, “did you both return?”
“I came home at about twenty past twelve,” said Guy immediately. “I can fix the time because we had gone on to Chez Carlo, and they had a midnight stunt there. We left immediately afterwards. I came home in a taxi. The radio was on full blast.”
“You heard no voices?”
“None. Just the wireless.”
“And you, Mr. Arthur?”
“Lord knows when I got in. After one. The house was in darkness. Not a sound.”
“You had your own key?”
“Yes,” said Guy. “Each of us has one. They’re always left on a hook in the lobby. When I came in I noticed Arthur’s was gone.”
“What about the others? How did you know it was his?”
“Mother hasn’t got one and Phips lost hers weeks ago. Anyway, I knew they were staying in and that it must be Arthur who was out.”
“Thank you,” said Arthur ironically.
“You didn’t look in the study when you came in,” Alleyn asked him.
“Good Lord, no,” said Arthur as if the suggestion was fantastic. “I say,” he said suddenly, “I suppose he was sitting here—dead. That’s a queer thought.” He laughed nervously. “Just sitting here, behind the door in the dark.”
“How do you know it was in the dark?”
“What d’you mean? Of course it was. There was no light under the door.”
“I see. Now do you two mind joining your mother again? Perhaps your sister will be kind enough to come in here for a moment. Fox, ask her, will you?”
Fox returned to the drawing-room with Guy and Arthur and remained there, blandly unconscious of any embarrassment his presence might cause the Tonkses. Bailey was already there, ostensibly examining the electric points.
Phillipa went to the study at once. Her first remark was characteristic. “Can I be of any help?” asked Phillipa.
“It’s extremely nice of you to put it like that,” said Alleyn. “I don’t want to worry you for long. I’m sure this discovery has been a shock to you.”
“Probably,” said Phillipa. Alleyn glanced quickly at her. “I mean,” she explained, “that I suppose I must be shocked but I can’t feel anything much. I just want to get it all over as soon as possible. And then think. Please tell me what has happened.”
Alleyn told her they believed her father had been electrocuted and that the circumstances were unusual and puzzling. He said nothing to suggest that the police suspected murder.
“I don’t think I’ll be much help,” said Phillipa, “but go ahead.”
“I want to try to discover who was the last person to see your father or speak to him.”
“I should think very likely I was,” said Phillipa composedly. “I had a row with him before I went to bed.”
“What about?”
“I don’t see that it matters.”
Alleyn considered this. When he spoke again it was with deliberation.
“Look here,” he said, “I think there is very little doubt that your father was killed by an electric shock from his wireless set. As far as I know the circumstances are unique. Radios are normally incapable of giving a lethal shock to anyone. We have examined the cabinet and are inclined to think that its internal arrangements were disturbed last night. Very radically disturbed. Your father may have experimented with it. If anything happened to interrupt or upset him, it is possible that in the excitement of the moment he made some dangerous re-adjustment.”
“You don’t believe that, do you?” asked Phillipa calmly.
“Since you ask me,” said Alleyn, “no.”
“I see,” said Phillipa; “you think he was murdered, but you’re not sure.” She had gone very white, but she spoke crisply. “Naturally you want to find out about my row.”
“About everything that happened last evening,” amended Alleyn.
“What happened was this,” said Phillipa; “I came into the hall some time after ten. I’d heard Arthur go out and had looked at the clock at five past. I ran into my father’s secretary, Richard Hislop. He turned aside, but not before I saw… not quickly enough. I blurted out: ‘You’re crying.’ We looked at each other. I asked him why he stood it. None of the other secretaries could. He said he had to. He’s a widower with two children. There have been doctor’s bills and things. I needn’t tell you about his… about his damnable servitude to my father nor about the refinements of cruelty he’d had to put up with. I think my father was mad, really mad, I mean. Richard gabbled it all out to me higgledy-piggledy in a sort of horrified whisper. He’s been here two years, but I’d never realized until that moment that we… that…” A faint flush came into her cheeks. “He’s such a funny little man. Not at all the sort I’ve always thought… not good-looking or exciting or anything.”
She stopped, looking bewildered.
“Yes?” said Alleyn.
“Well, you see—I suddenly realized I was in love with him. He realized it too. He said: ‘Of course, it’s quite hopeless, you know. Us, I mean. Laughable, almost.’ Then I put my arms round his neck and kissed him. It was very odd, but it seemed quite natural. The point is my father came out of this room into the hall and saw us.”
“That was bad luck,” said Alleyn.
“Yes, it was. My father really se
emed delighted. He almost licked his lips. Richard’s efficiency had irritated my father for a long time. It was difficult to find excuses for being beastly to him. Now, of course… He ordered Richard to the study and me to my room. He followed me upstairs. Richard tried to come too, but I asked him not to. My father… I needn’t tell you what he said. He put the worst possible construction on what he’d seen. He was absolutely foul, screaming at me like a madman. He was insane. Perhaps it was DTs. He drank terribly, you know. I dare say it’s silly of me to tell you all this.”
“No,” said Alleyn.
“I can’t feel anything at all. Not even relief. The boys are frankly relieved. I can’t feel afraid either.” She stared meditatively at Alleyn. “Innocent people needn’t feel afraid, need they?”
“It’s an axiom of police investigation,” said Alleyn and wondered if indeed she was innocent.
“It just can’t be murder,” said Phillipa. “We were all too much afraid to kill him. I believe he’d win even if you murdered him. He’d hit back somehow.” She put her hands to her eyes. “I’m all muddled,” she said.
“I think you are more upset than you realize. I’ll be as quick as I can. Your father made this scene in your room. You say he screamed. Did anyone hear him?”
“Yes. Mummy did. She came in.”
“What happened?”
“I said: ‘Go away, darling, it’s all right.’ I didn’t want her to be involved. He nearly killed her with the things he did. Sometimes he’d… we never knew what happened between them. It was all secret, like a door shutting quietly as you walk along a passage.”
“Did she go away?”
“Not at once. He told her he’d found out that Richard and I were lovers. He said… it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to tell you. She was terrified. He was stabbing at her in some way I couldn’t understand. Then, quite suddenly, he told her to go to her own room. She went at once and he followed her. He locked me in. That’s the last I saw of him, but I heard him go downstairs later.”
“Were you locked in all night?”
“No. Richard Hislop’s room is next to mine. He came up and spoke through the wall to me. He wanted to unlock the door, but I said better not in case—he—came back. Then, much later, Guy came home. As he passed my door I tapped on it. The key was in the lock and he turned it.”
“Did you tell him what had happened?”
“Just that there’d been a row. He only stayed a moment.”
“Can you hear the radio from your room?”
She seemed surprised.
“The wireless? Why, yes. Faintly.”
“Did you hear it after your father returned to the study?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Think. While you lay awake all that long time until your brother came home?”
“I’ll try. When he came out and found Richard and me, it was not going. They had been working, you see. No, I can’t remember hearing it at all unless—wait a moment. Yes. After he had gone back to the study from mother’s room I remember there was a loud crash of static. Very loud. Then I think it was quiet for some time. I fancy I heard it again later. Oh, I’ve remembered something else. After the static my bedside radiator went out. I suppose there was something wrong with the electric supply. That would account for both, wouldn’t it? The heater went on again about ten minutes later.”
“And did the radio begin again then, do you think?”
“I don’t know. I’m very vague about that. It started again sometime before I went to sleep.”
“Thank you very much indeed. I won’t bother you any longer now.”
“All right,” said Phillipa calmly, and went away.
Alleyn sent for Chase and questioned him about the rest of the staff and about the discovery of the body. Emily was summoned and dealt with. When she departed, awe-struck but complacent, Alleyn turned to the butler.
“Chase,” he said, “had your master any peculiar habits?”
“Yes, sir.”
“In regard to his use of the wireless?”
“I beg pardon, sir. I thought you meant generally speaking.”
“Well, then, generally speaking.”
“If I may say so, sir, he was a mass of them.”
“How long have you been with him?”
“Two months, sir, and due to leave at the end of this week.”
“Oh. Why are you leaving?”
Chase produced the classic remark of his kind.
“There are some things,” he said, “that flesh and blood will not stand, sir. One of them’s being spoke to like Mr. Tonks spoke to his staff.”
“Ah. His peculiar habits, in fact?”
“It’s my opinion, sir, he was mad. Stark, staring.”
“With regard to the radio. Did he tinker with it?”
“I can’t say I’ve ever noticed, sir. I believe he knew quite a lot about wireless.”
“When he tuned the thing, had he any particular method? Any characteristic attitude or gesture?”
“I don’t think so, sir. I never noticed, and yet I’ve often come into the room when he was at it. I can seem to see him now, sir.”
“Yes, yes,” said Alleyn swiftly. “That’s what we want. A clear mental picture. How was it now? Like this?”
In a moment he was across the room and seated in Septimus’s chair. He swung round to the cabinet and raised his right hand to the tuning control.
“Like this?”
“No, sir,” said Chase promptly, “that’s not him at all. Both hands it should be.”
“Ah.” Up went Alleyn’s left hand to the volume control. “More like this?”
“Yes, sir,” said Chase slowly. “But there’s something else and I can’t recollect what it was. Something he was always doing. It’s in the back of my head. You know, sir. Just on the edge of my memory, as you might say.”
“I know.”
“It’s a kind—something—to do with irritation,” said Chase slowly.
“Irritation? His?”
“No. It’s no good, sir. I can’t get it.”
“Perhaps later. Now look here, Chase, what happened to all of you last night? All the servants, I mean.”
“We were all out, sir. It being Christmas Eve. The mistress sent for me yesterday morning. She said we could take the evening off as soon as I had taken in Mr. Tonks’ grog-tray at nine o’clock. So we went,” ended Chase simply.
“When?”
“The rest of the staff got away about nine. I left at ten past, sir, and returned about eleven-twenty. The others were back then, and all in bed. I went straight to bed myself, sir.”
“You came in by a back door, I suppose?”
“Yes, sir. We’ve been talking it over. None of us noticed anything unusual.”
“Can you hear the wireless in your part of the house?”
“No, sir.”
“Well,” said Alleyn, looking up from his notes, “that’ll do, thank you.”
Before Chase reached the door Fox came in.
“Beg pardon, sir,” said Fox, “I just want to take a look at the Radio Times on the desk.”
He bent over the paper, wetted a gigantic thumb, and turned a page.
“That’s it, sir,” shouted Chase suddenly. “That’s what I tried to think of. That’s what he was always doing.”
“But what?”
“Licking his fingers, sir. It was a habit,” said Chase. “That’s what he always did when he sat down to the radio. I heard Mr. Hislop tell the doctor it nearly drove him demented, the way the master couldn’t touch a thing without first licking his fingers.”
“Quite so,” said Alleyn. “In about ten minutes, ask Mr. Hislop if he will be good enough to come in for a moment. That will be all, thank you, Chase.”
“Well, sir,” remarked Fox when Chase had gone, “if that’s the case and what I think’s right, it’d certainly make matters worse.”
“Good heavens, Fox, what an elaborate remark. What does it mean?�
��
“If metal knobs were substituted for bakelite ones and fine wires brought through those holes to make contact, then he’d get a bigger bump if he tuned in with damp fingers.”
“Yes. And he always used both hands. Fox!”
“Sir.”
“Approach the Tonkses again. You haven’t left them alone, of course?”
“Bailey’s in there making out he’s interested in the light switches. He’s found the main switchboard under the stairs. There’s signs of a blown fuse having been fixed recently. In a cupboard underneath there are odd lengths of flex and so on. Same brand as this on the wireless and the heater.”
“Ah, yes. Could the cord from the adapter to the radiator be brought into play?”
“By gum,” said Fox, “you’re right! That’s how it was done, Chief. The heavier flex was cut away from the radiator and shoved through. There was a fire, so he wouldn’t want the radiator and wouldn’t notice.”
“It might have been done that way, certainly, but there’s little to prove it. Return to the bereaved Tonkses, my Fox, and ask prettily if any of them remember Septimus’s peculiarities when tuning his wireless.”
Fox met little Mr. Hislop at the door and left him alone with Alleyn. Phillipa had been right, reflected the Inspector, when she said Richard Hislop was not a noticeable man. He was nondescript. Grey eyes, drab hair; rather pale, rather short, rather insignificant; and yet last night there had flashed up between those two the realization of love. Romantic but rum, thought Alleyn.
“Do sit down,” he said. “I want you, if you will, to tell me what happened between you and Mr. Tonks last evening.”
“What happened?”
“Yes. You all dined at eight, I understand. Then you and Mr. Tonks came in here?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“He dictated several letters.”
“Anything unusual take place?”
“Oh, no.”
“Why did you quarrel?”
“Quarrel!” The quiet voice jumped a tone. “We did not quarrel, Mr. Alleyn.”
“Perhaps that was the wrong word. What upset you?”
“Phillipa has told you?”
“Yes. She was wise to do so. What was the matter, Mr. Hislop?”
“Apart from the… what she told you… Mr. Tonks was a difficult man to please. I often irritated him. I did so last night.”
