Lonely Road Murder

by Fearn, John Russell

  It was quite early and I had a couple of hours to while away until Elly met me. I spent them in a half empty teashop. No one took the least notice of me, once I was served, and I believe I could have sat there till closing time without disturbing the staff. Indeed the waitress looked quite put out when I interrupted her game of cards with the cashier, to pay my bill.

  I arrived at our rendezvous with ten minutes to spare and waited patiently for Elly. This was small matter. Elly had an amazing knack of misunderstanding the simplest instructions and was quite capable of waiting outside the Bank of England, in serene belief that, that was where I told her to be. By some miracle, she did nothing of the sort, and prompt to the minute, her matronly figure appeared triumphantly before me, a large bag of sweets clutched in her hand. “I thought we’d like a few chocolates to munch,” she informed me, tucking her arm.

  It was a very good show. Elly thought it was a little bit suggestive, but that did not prevent her from giggling and laughing, throughout the performance. I had seldom seen her laugh so much, and got more pleasure from watching her reactions, than I did from watching the players, excellent as they were.

  We had supper. Elly does so much cooking that I thought it would be a welcome change for her to eat a meal and not have to prepare it first. I ordered a four course meal, and we were halfway through it, when Elly suddenly jumped up and waved her fork urgently at someone. I turned round in some surprise. Coming towards us nodding and smiling was none other than Inspector Nevil!

  I was very disconcerted, but Elly who had conceived a violent dislike of the man practically on sight, welcomed him warmly and begged him to join us. He pulled up a chair and sat down. “Well, well, this is an unexpected meeting ladies,” he said affably. Although he was off-duty I couldn’t rid myself of the feeling that he was watching us closely and that at any minute a constable would appear at his elbow to take down our conversation.

  “Have you found out anything yet?” Elly queried eagerly. “We are so anxious to hear if the murderer is discovered.”

  He frowned slightly, and I burned to warn her not to press for any information. It was obvious he could not discuss the case. “You are not more anxious than the police, Miss Moreland. You may be sure that everything possible has been done, is being done, but in the event of an arrest you will be informed through the excellent offices of the press only.” His lips closed firmly and I hastened to change the subject.

  “We have just come from the Athenium Theatre Inspector Nevil.”

  “Indeed! A pleasant farce, I believe.” Fortunately at that moment the girl arrived to take his order, and I took the opportunity of treading on Elly’s toes and shaking my head at her warningly. She smiled reassuringly and as the Inspector turned his attention back to us again, began discussing the lack of taste in restaurant cooked food.

  “I’ve always wondered what they do with it,” she wailed, “give them a perfectly good piece of lamb and they beat all the nourishment from it and serve it up with watery vegetables. I wish I had the cooking of some of their joints.” She had struck the right chord. Inspector Nevil confessed himself a connoisseur of good food, and under her influence expanded and shone, until he became quite human. I forgot my fear and we sat chatting like three old friends.

  I grew a little bored after half an hour of recipes, and fell to recalling my first impressions of him. A little bird-like man I had called him, and that exactly described him. Alert, intelligent eyes that peered sharply from under a deeply furrowed brow. A hooked beak-like nose and tight unrevealing lips. He was never still. And his hands gestured with quick darting little gestures, and as he ate curry he pecked daintily at his food. Oh, he was definitely a birdman, but what went on behind that impenetrable facade? Whom did he suspect? Was he even now gaining information at our expense?

  Elly was pouring forth details of Mary’s favourite dishes. “Aah, she always loved my curry. Mary couldn’t resist curry — many’s the time I’ve taken her down a dish of it. And mushrooms. Oh, she’d eat those at any time. Why, she bought some on the day she was murdered, I remember Rosemary telling me. Didn’t you, dear?”

  I nodded. That remark painted a picture so vividly that I shut my eyes not to see Mary’s slanting smile, as she stood in the market with me. The Inspector shot a penetrating look in my direction and said abruptly, “This has been a very enjoyable encounter but I’m afraid I must say goodnight. I have work to do. If you will excuse me.”

  “Of course,” Elly returned brightly, “we must be going soon ourselves, don’t let us keep you.”

  He rose, and placing his chair correctly back in place, signalled to the waitress. “Goodnight. Miss Moreland, Miss Lennox. I trust we shall meet again sometime, and continue our interesting conversation.” He bowed slightly and left.

  “What an odious man!” Elly exclaimed, as soon as his back was turned.

  I looked at her in some astonishment. “Well, that’s very cool, my pet, considering you asked him to join us, and have been nattering away for the last half hour!”

  “Oh, I thought he might tell us something, but he’s such a dry old stick you can’t get anything out of him.”

  I sighed for Elly’s simplicity and said: “I think we had better make a move, dear. Can you see the waitress?” Elly waved at her, and after paying, we threaded our way through the tables to the door.

  It seemed a shame to just catch the bus and go home, so heedless of expense, I hailed a passing taxi, which was fortunately empty, and bundled a shocked, protesting Elly into its capacious depths.

  “The extravagance. The unnecessary extravagance!” was all I could get from her during the whole trip, but she had assumed the air of a visiting Duchess, when we got out at the flats, so I gathered that the taxi agreed with her.

  The living room window of the Francis’ flat faced the road, and I saw with a slight shock that the light was on. Elly saw it at the same time, and nudged my arm. “Good gracious, John must be there. Fancy him staying up so late, it will only upset him. Perhaps, we should knock and make him come upstairs for a bit. It’s not good to be down there alone.”

  I demurred slightly, feeling reluctant to come between John and his memories. But Elly was not to be shaken. She knocked firmly on the door. We waited a minute but he didn’t answer. I pulled her arm. “Come away. He may not want us.” She made no reply, but stood silent, a strange expression crossing her face. The next instant she began hammering on the door and calling his name, her voice loud and frightened. Appalled I tried to stop her, but she turned on me, her face working. “Can’t you smell it? Gas! It’s coming from under the door! Run upstairs and see if Bob’s there. We’ll have to break the lock!”

  I flew upstairs, my heart banging frantically, and nearly cannoned into Bob as he came racing down. “What on earth’s the row about?” he shouted.

  “It’s John! We can’t make him hear, and there’s a smell of gas!”

  Not waiting for me to finish, he tore back up the stairs and returned, grasping the axe from the fire apparatus on the top landing. Elly was still knocking, and she stood back as Bob smashed violently at the panels. The wood splintered and broke, and thrusting his hand inside he twisted the handle and thrust the door open.

  The smell of gas was very strong, and Bob’s first action was to throw open the window. John was nowhere to be seen.

  “He’s in the bedroom!” Elly shouted, frantically, struggling with the door. It swung inwards abruptly. An overwhelming, sickening wave of gas enveloped us, and we saw John, lying back in a chair, his face turned towards the hissing unlit gas fire.

  Somehow, heaven knows how, we turned it off, dragged his heavy body out into the passage, and propped him up, and fixed the swing doors back to let the life giving fresh air reach him. He was breathing, very, very faintly, but he was still breathing. Her hands shaking Elly rang 999 and asked for an ambulance. They were very quick, but it seemed like hours to me, before we heard the welcome clang of the alarm and the ambulance arrived.


  No time was wasted. After a cursory glance at him, they fetched a stretcher and hurried him inside. A man took down all we could tell him, and said we would be notified later. Somebody called impatiently from the door, and with a hasty goodbye he was gone. The ambulance screamed away and left us standing white and bewildered until the final note faded into the distance.

  Bob said quietly, “I think we should let the Inspector know. You two go upstairs and I’ll come up when I’ve got on to the station.”

  We went into Elly’s living room. Bob joined us with the news that the police were on their way, and we sat waiting. The minutes ticked by, slowly, wearily, until a sharp rap on the door made us start nervously. I opened the door.

  It was the Inspector and two policemen. The preliminaries over, he stood looking down at us for a moment, then said thoughtfully, “An unexpected meeting indeed.”

  Unable to bear the suspense, I gulped out: “John will be alright won’t he, Inspector? We reached him in time, didn’t we?”

  “The hospital have this number and instructions to phone me should any change occur in his condition.”

  “Oh dear,” I worried. “I should never have let him come back here alone.”

  “You knew he was coming, Miss Lennox?” he asked quickly.

  “Yes. I met him in the park today; he said he wanted to clear things up. He was so strange and unlike himself — ” I stopped as I remembered his lonely words, and said in a low voice: “Perhaps he found his own salvation.”

  Bob murmured. “I think I see what you mean.”

  “You infer, I presume Mr. McDonnell, that he attempted to take his own life,” the Inspector said severely.

  Bob shrugged. “Well, it looks like it Inspector. He was terribly upset about Mary’s death. It must have played on his mind, until he couldn’t face it any longer.” Elly was crying openly. “His heart was broken, we all knew it. I pray that the wicked person responsible for this is punished. Nothing’s too bad for him.”

  The Inspector moved restlessly. He was about to speak when the shrill clamour of the telephone ringing in the hall arrested him. A moment later a policeman reported that it was the hospital. He hurried out and we sat, frozen on our seats, eyes fixed on the door. There was a murmur of voices, the sound of the phone being replaced, then footsteps on the stairs. The door opened slowly and he came in.

  “Well?” Bob burst out anxiously.

  Inspector Nevil’s glance included us all. “I regret to tell you that Mr. Francis died without regaining consciousness, a few minutes ago.”

  There was an awful pause, broken by the sound of Elly’s sobs. A great weight seemed to have descended on my shoulders, as I moved slowly to comfort her.

  A lot of activity was going on downstairs. We could hear men moving about in that room below and one came in to tell the inspector that there was no trace of a suicide note. “Well keep looking,” he returned. “There’s bound to be a confession in some form or other.”

  “A confession?” I gasped, mystified.

  He turned and answered me, his tones level and deliberate. “A confession, Miss Lennox. I do not assert this as a fact, but we cannot overlook the possibility that the reason for which John Francis took his life, was remorse.”

  He bowed slightly. “It has not apparently occurred to anyone in this room, that John Francis’ suicide is tantamount to a confession of murdering his wife.”

  CHAPTER IV

  POST MORTEM

  Stephen phoned me about ten the next day. He had read the news of John’s death in the morning papers. Their tone was guarded, but the implication of “suicide after the murder of wife” was inevitable. “Another terrible shock for you, my dear,” he said sympathetically. “I wish you’d get out of that wretched place for a few days. Mother would be delighted for you to come and stay with us. Why don’t you? I can pick you up this evening, on my way home from the office.”

  It was sweet of him to worry. Yet somehow I did not really want to leave the others. We were all so closely bound up in the events of the past week, that it seemed like desertion to go away now. Besides, I very much doubted my ability to sustain such a visit — my nerves were too shaken. I excused myself as best I could.

  “Well think it over,” he replied, “the offer’s still open. Anyway you’ll be coming down at the weekend. I’ll call in tonight to talk about it. Goodbye, Rosemary, take care of yourself.”

  I hung up thoughtfully. The idea seemed tempting on a little reflection, and I almost phoned back to say I had changed my mind. Then a vision of that “grand old lady”, described so fondly by Stephen, and so caustically by Elly, arose in my mind’s eye, and I decided to stay as I was!

  The door of John and Mary’s flat had been padlocked, and sealed by the police. They had been there nearly all night. When I went to bed, somewhere in the early hours of the morning, they were still down there searching for the confession note. Mercifully now they were gone, without the evidence they wanted. It was no surprise to me. I was very dubious as to the existence of such a note, and the implication thereof. Wearily I climbed the stairs, and I went back into my bedroom. No one was about, and I was very tired. I looked longingly at my warm bed, and after a little tussle with my conscience, took off my dressing gown and climbed back in.

  I was asleep in a few minutes. It was not the deep sleep beloved of the poets, that brings comfort and peace. No. I tossed and struggled in the depths of a hideous nightmare. Mary’s dead body rose from the floor, advancing towards me with piteously extended hands. John stood silently watching, his eyes blank, a rope round his neck, and through it all, came the menacing hiss of escaping gas. I must have screamed, for the next thing I knew was Elly bending over me saying soothingly, “Wake up dear. Wake up, you’re only dreaming.”

  I clutched her hands in wild terror, and relaxed thankfully. She smiled kindly. “You left your door open, so I just came in to see if everything was alright. My goodness, what a state you’re in. I’ve made you some breakfast. Would you like me to bring it in, or do you want to get up?”

  Elly’s kindly presence was the best comfort I could have asked, and the thought of breakfast put new life into me, I hugged her gratefully, “I’ll get up, Elly, and thank you.”

  The table was laid ready in the kitchen, and a cosy warmth mixed with the smell of bacon and coffee greeted me as I came out. I glanced at the clock.

  “It’s half past one,” she informed me, reading my mind, “you’ve had enough sleep now, surely?” I hung my head in mock shame, and giggled. Elly in her schoolmarm mood, always made me want to laugh. She directed a severe look in my direction and then smiled. “I’ve had no lunch, so I’ll have something with you, if you behave sensibly, and don’t carry on like that. She turned from the oven, two plates of egg and bacon in her hands, and put them quickly on the table. “Mind they’re hot! My eggs, your bacon. That makes us quits, eh?”

  I poured her a cup of coffee. “You’re just back from Mrs. Samuels, I suppose Elly? My, you make me feel lazy, but I slept so badly last night.”

  She nodded, and absently buttering a piece of toast, pushed it towards me. “Yes, I don’t think any of us slept too well, but to tell you the truth, I was glad to be up and about. You’re young, of course, you need your sleep. When you get to my age it’s different.”

  “Stephen phoned this morning. He wants me to stay at his home for a few days.”

  “Ah now,” Elly beamed, “that’s just what you want, you’ve been through a lot, and the change will do you the world of good. I can see myself acting as caretaker to the entire block, at this rate. One of Bob’s young ladies left a message asking if he’d like to go down to Kent this weekend. I mustn’t forget to tell him when he comes.”

  That, if I needed anything, decided me. “You’ll have company then. I’m not going.”

  “Oh Rosemary! Stephen will be upset if you don’t.”

  “It’s not him. It’s his mother. I’ve heard some terrible things about her, a
nd I’m sure she won’t like me.”

  “What a lot of nonsense!” Elly cried indignantly. “The least you can do is go. Then decide for yourself, don’t condemn the poor woman without a hearing.”

  I shrugged irritably, though I had a sneaking feeling that Elly was quite right. To change the subject, I said sarcastically: “I wonder which one of Bob’s girlfriends phoned him? As long as it wasn’t that common blonde he should be pretty safe!”

  “Bob safe? It’s the other way around if you ask me. He’s a terrible lady killer!”

  “Bob!” I shook with mirth at the thought of Bob as a heartbreaker. He wasn’t bad looking if you liked that type, but his manners and sense of humour, left a lot to be desired.

  “Yes. You can laugh, Rosemary, but if I was thirty years younger and lived in the same block of flats, I wouldn’t treat him as you do. You’ll realize his worth one day and then it will be too late.”

  I made a face at her, but she refused to be laughed out of it, and just sat there, shaking her head significantly at me. Seeing that she was really put out, I set myself to be pleasant and make her happy again. Dear Elly. It didn’t take much effort, and she was soon bright and cheerful.

  We washed up together, and then Elly left to do some shopping, the items listed neatly on a little pad in her bag. I did the housework, and then baked a sponge in Stephen’s honour. By then the time was getting on and I changed into my second best dress. Jade green wool, with a plunging neckline. I preened in front of the mirror, putting the finishing touches and then gave a little start of excitement as Stephen knocked on the door. I opened it, stood on tiptoe, my eyes closed and murmured adoringly, “Darling!”

  I felt his powerful arms close tightly round me, then his mouth hard and firm against mine, as he kissed me. A long lingering kiss that made my heart race with excitement and my very toes tingle. I heaved an ecstatic sigh and reluctantly opened my eyes to gaze up at him. Dreamily I gazed — at an unruly black wave, a jutting chin and a pair of mocking brown eyes!