Sleep of Death

by Anne Morice

  “Then you thought wrong. It might be possible, if I were thirty years younger, but no-one of my age could expect to come strolling back after an absence of three or four months. Everyone would have concluded that I was dead by that time. I’d be a write-off.”

  I was privately of the opinion that he had become one already, after an absence of only three or four days, but saying so would not have advanced my cause, so I switched to a new tack: “What does Dr. Macintosh think of the idea?”

  “Oh, he’s like you, all in favour of it. In fact, he’s talked me into having those jabs done, vaccination and so forth. No harm in it, I suppose. He tells me that the last lot I had are out of date now and one never knows what may crop up.”

  “Are you well enough for that sort of thing?”

  “I wouldn’t have thought so, but he says there’s nothing to it. He’s threatened to bring all the stuff round this afternoon and get it over in one go. Everyone seems to be trying to hustle me and I’m getting a bit sick of it.”

  Working it out as I went along, I said: “Well, listen now, Philip. I had thought of looking in on you myself for a few minutes this afternoon, on my way to Toby’s, but I don’t want to clash with the doctor. Did he tell you what time he’d be coming?”

  “Between four and five, he said. Not that you can rely on him, but I know he has to be back for his surgery at five.”

  “Oh, that’s all right, then. I’ll be there before that.”

  “Well, don’t make it too early. I like to have a rest after lunch.”

  “Okay, some time after three. I’ll bring your medicine back and, if you want to give me a list of anything urgent you need, I’ll see to that too.”

  This proved irresistible, as I had known it would, and a note of cordiality crept in, as he informed me that he was getting low on whisky and gin and could do with a bottle of each.

  One way and another, he was turning out to be an expensive invalid, but I had hopes of the next outlay proving to be a sound investment.

  Oliver, who had been at the top of my list of the easy ones, was proving hardest of all to track down. I had sought to put the wheels in motion on Sunday evening, the day after our jaunt to the theatre, by ringing him at home. He wasn’t in, so I left a message on the answering machine, asking him to call me back, either the same evening or before he left for the office on Monday. Nothing was heard from him until just before lunch, when he explained that he had been unable to comply, having returned home very late the night before and because eight to nine a.m. was jogging time. This came as a big surprise, for panting round the park in a track suit was the last sort of activity I associated with him. It proved once again that there is always something new to be learned about everyone, and so I was not discouraged.

  “I do hope it wasn’t anything urgent,” he asked, after the usual stream of apologies.

  “No, not at all, that’s why I didn’t interrupt you at work. It was simply to ask if you’d heard any more from your mugger friend?”

  “How very thoughtful of you! No, not a word.”

  “So, whatever else he was up to, it didn’t include blackmail?”

  “You think not?”

  “If so, he’s not being very efficient about it.”

  “Perhaps he is biding his time? Well, that suits me. The longer he bides it, the better, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Specially as you now believe you could produce a credible explanation for the keys being in your pocket. He’s losing ground every day.”

  “Well, that’s one way of putting it.”

  “So, one way and another, the operation could be said to have misfired?”

  “Yes . . . well . . . listen, Tessa, it was sweet of you to ring, but I do . . .”

  “Yes, I know, you’re busy and I’m holding you up, but before you go, there was one other thing I wanted to ask you. How’s Benjie making out?”

  “Absolutely shattered, poor fellow.”

  “I am sorry!”

  “Yes, it’s a rotten outlook all round and looks like getting worse.”

  “Financially, do you mean?”

  “Among other things. They may weather the storm, but I begin to doubt it. Still, it’s the old man’s death that has been the worst blow and nothing can alter that. Benjie was devoted to his father, you know. He’d have done anything for him, absolutely anything.”

  “Yes,” I agreed, “I am sure he would.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I

  “Here you are!” I said, handing over the bottles. “Something to cheer you up! Not that you appear to need it. You’re looking better, I’m glad to say. Have you been out yet?”

  “No, but I went downstairs for an hour or two this morning.”

  “You ought to take a turn in the garden. It’s a lovely day and the fresh air would do you good.”

  “Thank you, but I can see the lovely day and get all the fresh air I need, sitting by this window.”

  “So why bother to go downstairs?”

  “Had to. That Superintendent was here again. I didn’t want him tramping all over my bedroom.”

  “Did he have any news?”

  “Oh, he wasn’t giving much away. Talked in platitudes, mostly. Things like how they were following up various lines of enquiry and expecting a breakthrough any day now. Lot of guff, if you ask me. I’m getting sick of it.”

  “I should think you must be, if he got you all the way downstairs just to tell you that.”

  “It wasn’t just for that. He’d brought some more questions to badger me with as well.”

  “What about?”

  “You are an inquisitive girl, aren’t you? Always were, I remember.”

  “Well, go on! What sort of questions?”

  “You’ll be surprised when I tell you. Last thing I expected. It was mainly about the charity committee poor Dolly used to sit on. He’d brought a list of the members, if you please, and he wanted to know whether I recognised any of the names.”

  “And did you?”

  “Did I what?”

  “Recognise any of the names?”

  “One or two. One in particular. Woman called Lady Hartman.”

  “That’s Benjie’s mother.”

  “I know that, my dear. I told you only the other day that she and Dolly were friends.”

  “Yes, you did, but . . . I somehow got the idea that you meant more acquaintances than friends.”

  “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure how well Dolly knew her, and I told the Superintendent the same thing. We never went to their house and they never came here, but I believe she and Dolly sometimes used to lunch together after the meetings and Dolly used to put in hours of work on their fund-raising stunts, for which Lady Hartman got all the credit. Allowed herself to be used as a dogsbody, if you want it straight; but as I said to him, what the hell’s all this got to do with her being murdered?”

  “And what was his answer to that?”

  “Oh, started piling on the guff again. Something about how they’d more or less eliminated the possibility of its having been unpremeditated. They now think it must have been carefully planned in advance, so they’ve got to go delving and poking around in her past, to see what they can dig out there. Can’t see it doing them much good, can you?”

  “It sounds reasonable to me. Did you tell him you were thinking of going to South Africa?”

  “It was mentioned in passing. I said it was all in the air. I hadn’t made up my mind yet whether I would or not.”

  “What was his reaction?”

  “Didn’t seem particularly interested. Wanted me to let him know, when I’d decided one way or the other, but he’d be in touch anyway.”

  “When does Paula arrive?”

  “You’re wearing me out with all these questions. How would I know? Some time this week, presumably. You read her letter, so you’re as well informed as I am about her movements. And why don’t you sit down properly, instead of perching on the window sill like that?�
��

  “I’ve been keeping an eye out for the doctor and there’s a car just coming in now, so I expect that’s him. I’ll go down and let him in. Goodbye Philip. I’ll ring you tomorrow or the next day.”

  “Oh, goodbye, and thank you for bringing those things. I haven’t any cash on me at the moment, but we’ll have a settling up one of these days, when I’m feeling better.”

  “No hurry,” I assured him. “It doesn’t sound as though you’re likely to flee the country without letting us know.”

  “How do you do?” I said, walking up to the car. “You won’t remember me, but I’m Tessa Crichton.”

  “Yes, I do, you’re the niece, aren’t you?”

  “Cousin.”

  “That’s right, cousin. And what’s Toby up to these days?”

  “Usual. Wearing himself to the bone finding excuses for not doing anything.”

  “Yes, that sounds like Toby. And how’s the old gentleman feeling this afternoon?”

  “Not bad. I think you should use your influence to persuade him to go to South Africa.”

  “Oh, you do, do you? And here have I been under the impression all these years that I knew what was best for my own patients.”

  “You don’t agree?”

  “I do, as it happens and I’ve told him so, but that’s as far as it’ll go. I don’t believe in stampeding people of his age into doing things they don’t necessarily want to do. He’s been through a bad patch and he ought to be allowed to get over it in his own time and his own way.”

  “That might end with him sitting up in his bedroom, drinking a bottle of whisky a day, until he either fell out of the window or into a stupor.”

  He really was the most open-minded and tolerant man ever to have recited the Hippocratic oath and I could understand why Toby valued him so highly. Instead of telling me where to get off, he responded with as much gravity as if my pronouncement had come from a senior member of his own profession.

  “Do you honestly believe there’s a danger of that, Tessa?”

  “Certainly, I do. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

  “That surprises me, you know, surprises me quite a lot. From the chats I’ve been having with him over the past few days, I’d got the impression that his aim was to get back to work as quickly as possible. I’m sure he sees it as the best way of picking up the threads again and putting this wretched business behind him.”

  “That may be what he wants, but he’s either whistling in the dark, or else he’ll be in for a big disappointment. He has a somewhat unrealistic view of his standing in the profession.”

  “But he’s still quite a name, isn’t he?”

  “It doesn’t mean much to anyone under forty and nothing at all at the box office. But that’s not the only problem. The sad truth is that he’s no longer very competent, can’t always remember his lines and so forth. And the most ironic part of all is that, in trying to console himself for losing Dolly, he’d find that this was where he needed her most.”

  “Her moral support, you mean?”

  “It was much more than that. For over twenty years she’d been pulling him from in front and pushing from behind, forcing him into regular hours and keeping the drink down to reasonable limits. A kind of female Svengali, in a way and without her he’ll be no more use than Trilby when her voice went.”

  “Yes, I can see what you’re driving at and there may be something in it. No-one could deny that she was a woman of strong character and a mind of her own to match it.”

  “At any rate, where Philip’s career was concerned.”

  “Oh, in every way, I should have said.”

  “Except one. You would call hypochondria a form of weakness, wouldn’t you?”

  “Now, Tessa, you must know better than to suppose you can trap me into betraying confidences about my patients?”

  “But she’s not your patient any more, is she? So what could it matter? And I don’t see it as anything to be ashamed of. I daresay all these forceful people have their Achilles heels and this happened to be hers.”

  “I shan’t be drawn into an argument about it, but neither do I intend to allow you to go running around spreading nonsense about Achilles heels and such-like. It wasn’t anything of the kind.”

  “Oh, really? Well, I was only repeating what I’d heard.”

  “Then you’d heard wrong and, when you get the chance, you can do the poor creature a small service by at least putting that record straight. Until almost the end of her life she no more suffered from imaginary illnesses than you do.”

  “By which I take you to mean that she was then beginning to develop symptoms of hypochondria?”

  “You may take it any way you like, so long as you don’t go spreading false rumours. In all the years I was attending her, I never saw a sign of it until those last few weeks and I put it down then, as I do now, to nervous strain. Generally speaking, she was as normal as the next one, but she’d worked herself into a state about something, this play I suppose, and small wonder, if what you tell me is true about her carrying such a heavy share of the load. Stress affects people in all sorts of different ways, you know, and physical symptoms are neither uncommon, nor necessarily imaginary. Do you understand what I’m talking about?”

  “Absolutely!”

  “Good! Then I’d better go along up and have a word with my patient, otherwise I’ll be late for surgery. Give my regards to Toby.”

  “I will.”

  “And I’ll remember what you said about Sir Philip going on this holiday. It’s given me a new slant and I’ll put in a word when I get the chance.”

  He started to walk away towards the house, then stopped and turned round again: “There wouldn’t be anything to prevent his going abroad, I take it? No formalities about having to remain in this country while the investigation is going on?”

  “Oh, I shouldn’t think so. He might be needed when the trial comes up, but it could be months before they reach that stage. Besides, he’ll only be ten or twelve hours away, you know; and in the care of a very competent guardian, I might add. Almost a second Dolly, by the sound of it.”

  “Splendid! So much the better! I’ll do what I can to head him in the right direction.”

  II

  Two days later, having infuriated a number of people by leaving the telephone off the hook for hours at a stretch, I had finished writing down every scrap of knowledge I possessed in any way connected with the murder of Dolly Mickleton, and everything had fallen neatly into place. So far as I was concerned, the answer was now clear and unmistakable and so I went for the last time to The Old Rectory.

  Philip was seated in his usual chair by the window. “What have you decided?” I asked him.

  “I am not looking forward to it, but I have decided to go. I feel I have rather been pushed into it.”

  “Well, cheer up!” I told him, “because I have come here to rather push you out of it.”

  “What do you mean? You were the one who went on at me about it most of all.”

  “I know, but I’ve had second thoughts.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve now found out who did kill Dolly. Do you want to hear?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Naturally, it was the last thing he wanted,” I added, having reached this point in the narrative, “but he knew there was no escape. I was relentless, just as he had been. Ruthless and relentless.”

  Two more days had gone by and Robin and I were spending the weekend with Toby, who, unlike Robin, was hearing the story for the first time and who now said: “I agree. It is the only way to describe him, but what does surprise me is that he should have had the nerve and cunning to devise such a scheme, let alone carry it out. How we misjudged him!”

  “No, I feel sure his accomplice must take most of the credit for that. Philip would never have been able to handle it on his own. However, to be fair, he did prove himself to be a far more accomplished actor than any of us had realised.”

&
nbsp; “Although, when it came to the climax, his performance fell to pieces, I take it? He broke down and confessed all?”

  “In the end he did. At first, he tried to bluster his way out of it. Told me I didn’t know what I was talking about and ought to try minding my own business, for once in my life. When that didn’t work he changed the tune to a whine and said he’d tell me the whole story, if I swore on my word of honour never to repeat it to anyone. I said what would be the use of that, since, apart from some minor details, I already knew the whole story? Furthermore, as there was no guarantee that I’d keep my word, he would never feel safe, so long as I was alive. I also warned him that there would be no point in trying to overcome that problem by killing me because I had written it all down, which, thanks to Robin, was perfectly true, and put it in a sealed envelope, to be opened in the event of my death. I also warned him that, unlike the anonymous letters, it was locked up in a place which he had no hope of finding.”

  “So it was he who removed the letters from Dolly’s safe?”

  “Oh yes. Not that he was afraid of their revealing any link with himself, because everything he told me about Dolly having written them herself and her reason for doing so was true. So he knew they could do nothing to incriminate him, but at that time he had high hopes of the murder being seen as a mindless, haphazard crime, committed by some Jack-the-Ripper type, or else by a burglar who had broken into the flat, believing the owners to be out. The letters pointed away from that theory, so once she was dead the first job was to remove and destroy them.”

  “Did Dolly know who her enemy was?”

  “She may have guessed, or, at any rate, included him among the possibilities. The step she took to safeguard herself almost proved that she had.”

  “Which step?”

  “She told Philip that she had torn up the will she had made when they married, in which everything had been left to him. She then revived her former one, whereby every penny went back to her first husband’s family again and placed it in the safe keeping of her solicitor. She probably saw that as the best deterrent of all against any plan he might have for hastening her death.”