‘But that doesn’t say they won’t touch her; because they’re pretty sure it was murder, and they want their victim. So do you still want me to pack up and go home, Tapers? Or shall I go on?’
My nervous anger had gone. Sheringham had been quite right. It had been prompted by sheer fear – indeed, terror. For if I had been frightened on my own account, on Armorel’s I was now terrified. What had the dear, misguided girl done? She had avoided me since the inquest, but I had been able to ask her, on the way home, in a hurried aside, why she had done such a thing, and she had replied, almost angrily: ‘My God, what do you take me for? Do you think I’d let you do a thing like that for me, and then leave you in the lurch, you idiot? You make me tired.’ She had then hastily joined the others, and I had been unable to see her alone since. Armorel really was a baffling person.
‘Yes,’ I said to Sheringham now. ‘Go on, please. Why are the police sure it’s murder?’
‘Poor old Tapers,’ Sheringham said, with a sympathy that I could not resent; indeed, unaccustomed though I have always been to rely upon others, I found it unexpectedly welcome. ‘Still, remember there’s no more case against her than there was against you, – yet: motive and opportunity, that’s all, and the latter on her own admission only. Not much for the police to work on.
‘As to their idea about murder, I didn’t say they were sure; only that they were pretty sure. They still admit the bare possibility of accident. But there are two very nasty pointers towards murder. The first is the path of the bullet, which is practically horizontal through the body; that indicates of course that the rifle was about level with the place of entry, and parallel with the ground – in other words, that it was fired in the usual way from the shoulder, and from the shoulder of someone several inches shorter than Scott-Davies.’
‘Isn’t that rather splitting hairs?’ I demurred.
‘Certainly not. It’s a very reasonable, not to say obvious, assumption. And the second snag is the absence of powder marks. That’s most significant. If he really had been dragging the thing along behind him by the muzzle, you see, there couldn’t have been more than a couple of feet at the most for the bullet to travel before entering the body.’
‘And would that leave powder marks?’ I asked doubtfully. ‘A little .22?’
‘Well, traces of smoke, rather than powder, perhaps, but quite unmistakable. I saw some tests; this particular cartridge fired at squares of white cardboard at different distances. The smoke is visible up to about four and a half feet.’
‘White cardboard, yes, but it wouldn’t be visible on a tweed coat.’
Sheringham smiled. ‘My dear Tapers, you’d better not try your hand at murder after all. You don’t know much about modern crime detection if you imagine that what’s there can’t be found, visible to the human eye or not. The coat Scott-Davies was wearing was sent up to Scotland Yard at once for examination. The report is that there are no traces of powder on it. That’s almost conclusive that the muzzle was at least five feet away from the coat when the trigger was pulled.’
‘Then there’s the penetration of the bullet. The tests for that of course can’t be nearly so exact, but they confirm the same conclusion. And the other limit the police gauge from these is sixteen feet. In other words, the muzzle of the gun was between five and sixteen feet away from Scott-Davies’ back.
‘And lastly there’s another pointer towards murder, a third, though not so decisive. Armorel said definitely that her cousin mentioned an appointment. Nobody’s come forward with any story of such an appointment. That’s significant, to say the least. And what’s more, it’s a point which passes by both you and her – about the only one that does.’
‘It doesn’t occur to you,’ I said thoughtfully, ‘that if all her story of her interview with me was a fabrication, that of her interview with her cousin might be equally so?’
‘No, it doesn’t,’ Sheringham retorted. ‘For the simple reason that though she might have an interest in inventing the first, she could have none in inventing the other.’
‘I see,’ was all I said.
‘One last piece of news about the police. It’ll relieve you perhaps to hear that they’re not making a dead set at your young woman by any means. She’s now only the chief of two or three possible suspects. For instance, I may as well tell you that they know all about the De Ravels, and her relations with Scott-Davies.’
‘They do?’ I said in surprise.
‘Yes. Not unnaturally, since it’s been the gossip of that set in London for the last year apparently, as you yourself said. And that means, of course, that they’ve seen through the significance of your little play.’
‘You seem to have persuaded the police to take you very fully into their confidence, Sheringham.’
‘I did,’ Sheringham grinned. ‘The colonel, as I said, became most charmingly expansive. After all, the poor man only wants to get at the truth, which is reasonable enough; and he imagines, quite rightly, that I want the same thing. Furthermore, he doesn’t want to call in Scotland Yard. So he saw no reason for not putting his cards on the table. Very right and proper. But I made no promise to put mine down in return. So have no fears, Tapers; the contract remains inviolate, and those interesting footprints, those remarkably interesting footprints, remain a secret.’
‘Indeed they don’t,’ I retorted.
‘What?’ Sheringham exclaimed. ‘You mean, the police have found them?’
‘No, I don’t,’ I smiled, pleased at the ease with which I had scored off the redoubtable Sheringham. ‘I mean that they don’t remain at all. I’ve trodden them out.’
Sheringham stared at me. Then he whistled. ‘Whew! Then Armorel’s story was true. And you do suspect her.’
‘Certainly not,’ I replied indignantly. ‘Nothing of the kind. That is a quite unwarranted deduction.’
‘I disagree. In fact, I should call it obvious. You must think her position very serious if you’re prepared to go to the length of destroying evidence against her.’
‘That doesn’t follow at all,’ I retorted hotly. Indeed, I was much upset at this travesty of my motive. ‘I might have had several reasons without – without that one. Besides, you don’t know that those footprints were evidence against her at all. They were equal evidence against any woman.’
Sheringham looked at me pityingly. ‘Really, Tapers, do you imagine I should leave such a remarkable piece of evidence as those prints, and in a case where positive evidence is so scarce, and in a place where cattle wander at will, without taking any precautions at all? As you do seem to think so, let me tell you that I measured those prints most carefully, that I drew as exact a diagram of the best-defined one as I could, that they are the prints of a woman’s four-and-a-half shoes, and that I took the opportunity of the inquest this morning to examine a pair of Armorel’s outdoor shoes and found they corresponded exactly with my outline. Moreover, although they’re destroyed I’m a witness to their existence, and I have the diagram; and in view of the connection I’ve had with Scotland Yard the police would certainly accept my word without hesitation that they did exist, to which fact, moreover, I should be a competent witness in court. So tell me what you’re going to do about that, Tapers? Push me over a handy cliff? It’s the only way if you really want to suppress all knowledge of those footprints.’
I stared at him in apprehension. ‘You don’t mean you contemplate telling the police about them, Sheringham? That’s impossible. You couldn’t be such a cad. You gave your word.’
‘Not at all,’ he replied coolly. ‘I expressly made the reservation that I be permitted to use my own judgment. And as for being a cad, as you so charmingly suggest, there is such a thing as duty too, you know. I may consider it my duty to tell the police what I know. After all, if Armorel did shoot her cousin there’s only one motive, isn’t there? And not by any means a noble one. To get hold of Stukeleigh. If that turned out to be the case – well – ’ He shrugged his shoulders.
‘How d
are you make such a suggestion?’ I fear I raised my voice. ‘It’s – it’s infamous. I won’t permit it, Sheringham.’
He looked at me searchingly. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to, Tapers, because it’s the conclusion to which I’m being driven. You may as well know now as later.’ He paused. ‘I’m seriously wondering whether I’ll speak to the police or not.’
I looked at him. Clearly he meant what he said.
I made a terrible decision. ‘There’s no need for you to do that, Sheringham,’ I said quietly. ‘I’d rather tell you the truth here and now. I shot Scott-Davies.’
Our steady looks challenged each other. ‘You make that statement in all seriousness, knowing what the consequences may be?’ Sheringham asked.
‘Perfectly,’ I replied and, leaning back in my chair, smiled at him. Once again, I felt strangely at ease, as in court that morning after I had given up hope.
‘I shall have to report it to the police, you know.’
‘Of course.’
There was a short silence between us.
Then the door opened softly, and we both looked round. It was Armorel.
‘My poor Pinkie,’ she said, half-affectionately, and half-contemptuously, ‘you can’t even confess convincingly. Well, how could you, poor lamb?’ She turned to Sheringham. ‘All right, Mr Sheringham. You win. Yes, I shot him all right. But not to get hold of Stukeleigh. You got that wrong – if you did really, and it wasn’t part of the game. It was partly because he was going to sell Stukeleigh, and partly because it’d be so much better for so many people if he was dead. By the way, how did you know I was listening?’
These wooden ceilings,’ Sheringham murmured, in a deprecatory tone. ‘And as I could even hear you brushing your hair just now – You did brush you hair, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, I did,’ Armorel replied equably, sitting on the arm of a chair. ‘Well, what are you going to do about it? Give me away, eh?’
‘This is – this is ridiculous,’ I managed to gasp, wondering if I was going mad. ‘I – I – ’
‘Yes, and so are you,’ returned Armorel, not at all kindly. ‘No, don’t say any more. You spoke up your piece like a good boy, just as Mr Sheringham wanted you to. Don’t spoil it.’
‘And how did you know I did want him to?’ Sheringham asked her. ‘That was clever of you.’
‘Was it?’ Armorel said indifferently. ‘I heard you egging him on, of course; and it wasn’t long before I realized you were talking at me. So I thought I’d better oblige.’
‘Well, and so there we are,’ Sheringham laughed – actually laughed. ‘It certainly was a pretty trap, though I says it as shouldn’t. Tapers fell into it because he didn’t see it, and you because you did. Anyhow, we know where we are now.’
‘Indeed,’ I had to put in, ‘I cannot agree. Miss Scott-Davies has just made the most preposterous – ’
‘Yes, yes,’ Sheringham rudely cut me short. ‘You’ve both confessed to the murder. That means that each of you suspects the other – as I thought. And that means that neither of you did it. And so, as I say, we know at last where we are – or rather, I do. Somebody else did it. The only question now is, who?’
‘And why not leave it at that?’ Armorel remarked carelessly. ‘Personally, I don’t care. But knowing Eric, I’m sure there was a very good reason.’
I began to see daylight at last. ‘Ah!’ I said ‘I understand. It was a ruse. And you do realize at last, Sheringham, that Miss Scott-Davies’ story this morning was an invention?’
They both looked at me, and then at each other; then, for some totally inexplicable reason, they began to laugh. I could only raise my eyebrows in silence.
‘Poor angel,’ giggled Armorel. ‘He is rather sweet, isn’t he? Still, never mind. What do you think about it, Mr Sheringham? Why not leave it at that?’
Sheringham shook his head. ‘No. Much too untidy. I shouldn’t be able to sleep for weeks. Besides, the police won’t, you know.’
‘No,’ Armorel agreed calmly. They’ll be like a pack of hounds on my trail now, I suppose.’
‘Nonsense!’ I said loudly. ‘Sooner than that, I shall – ’
‘Pinkie, if you interrupt again I shall come and sit on your knee; and that’ll make you feel so silly, in front of Mr Sheringham. You know it will, so do be quiet. Well, Mr Sheringham?’
‘Well, we seem to be confronted with much the same problem over again, with you this time instead of Tapers. He’s cleared, and you’re not. If you postulate the same conditions as he did, our job is to clear you without incriminating someone else. Is that the idea?’
Armorel nodded. ‘Yes. The police can suspect me as much as they like. I don’t care about that, but – ’
‘They shall do nothing of the sort,’ I exclaimed. Really, it was too absurd. ‘Sooner than that they should suspect you for a minute, I will – Armorel!’
‘I warned you,’ Armorel laughed lightly, apparently quite unembarrassed by the equivocal picture we must have presented. ‘And the next time, I shall kiss you. And you’ll blush even more than you do now. – He is blushing prettily, isn’t he, Mr Sheringham?’
‘Yes, I love to see modesty nowadays in the young middle-aged,’ Sheringham said foolishly.
They both looked at me. It was most embarrassing. But I did not care to use force to a woman, and there seemed no other means of dislodging Armorel. I leaned back and smiled, as if indifferent; though I fear it was a feeble pretence.
‘By the way,’ Sheringham said suddenly, ‘there’s one very promising line of inquiry which seems to have been unaccountably neglected. At least, it doesn’t appear to have occurred to the police, so naturally I didn’t suggest it.’
‘Oh?’ said Armorel. ‘What?’
‘Why, Elsa Verity. According to what I’ve been told, she was in the far end of the wood – Bluebell Wood, isn’t it? – when the thing happened. Well, no one seems to have asked her which way she came back to the house. I’ve been over all the ground today, and there are two ways from Bluebell Wood, either straight up and through the fields, or else along the stream and up the path that Tapers and Mrs Fitzwilliam followed. So it’s even chances which way she came. Now if by any chance she did come along the stream, she may have seen something. At any rate, it’s worth a few questions.’
Armorel looked dubious. ‘Is it? I doubt if you’ll get much out of Elsa.’
‘No, indeed,’ I had to agree. ‘I regret to say that Miss Verity is – well, very small reliance can be placed upon her word.’
It was an unfortunate remark. Armorel at once began to laugh. Sheringham of course inquired the reason, and in spite of my protests Armorel told him of the way in which Miss Verity had succeeded in hoodwinking me. Once again I was surprised by the positive malice with which Armorel recounted the story. Indeed, she went so far as to hint that Elsa had by her duplicity interested me to the extent of real affection, which was very far from the case.
‘I see,’ Sheringham grinned. ‘I shall have to be very subtle. But she can caricature me behind my back as much as she likes, so long as I get what I want out of her; in other words, the truth. And talking of the truth, Armorel – ’
‘Meaning me?’ interposed Armorel quickly, to my secret pleasure.
‘That is your name, isn’t it?’ Sheringham smiled, quite unabashed. ‘But I’ll call you Miss Scott-Davies if you’re really young enough to like it better.’
‘Cunning, aren’t you? All right, stick to Armorel.’
‘Certainly. Well, talking of the truth, Armorel, there’s one point on which I must press you. You remember quoting your cousin as making a reference to an appointment with somebody. I needn’t emphasize the importance of that, if it’s true. What I want to know is, is it? Did he really say anything of the kind, or didn’t he? You’ll save me a lot of wild-goosechasing if he didn’t, and you tell me so here and now.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Armorel replied easily. ‘He did. But of course I can’t remember the exact words. It was somet
hing about – ’
‘He didn’t!’ I interposed, ‘For the plain reason that Armorel wasn’t anywhere in the – Armorel!’ I fear the last exclamation was somewhat smothered.
‘I warned you,’ Armorel muttered, also in smothered tones. ‘You can’t say I didn’t warn you. Keep still, Pinkie, will you?’
‘Sic him, Armorel!’ that idiot Sheringham encouraged her.
‘Armorel!’ I could only protest, feebly.
‘Well, well, well!’ said a voice from the door. ‘Cyril, I wouldn’t have believed it of you.’
To my relief Armorel sat up. ‘Oh, John, do speak to Pinkie. He’s been such a caveman. He dragged me onto his knee, and began kissing me like anything. And all in front of Mr Sheringham. Didn’t you hear my screams?’
‘Yes, quite deafening,’ John saw fit to grin. ‘Ethel thought it was a mouse. Well, don’t let me interrupt you, Cyril. I only came in to say that the rest of us are going to bed. Put out the lights, if you’re sitting up longer.’
‘On the contrary,’ I said, ‘I think it’s time we all went up. ’
‘I warn you, Pinkie,’ Armorel remarked, getting up and smoothing down her dress, ‘I shall lock my door.’
Really, I was not sorry to escape upstairs. Sheringham came too. Armorel, however, remarked that she was far too excited over being a police suspect to think of bed; she was going into the drawing room to read an improving book for an hour or two. She undertook to turn out the lamps.
It was with a strange mixture of feelings that I found myself at last alone. Intense relief at realizing myself safe from the attentions of the police mingled with the determination that I would not allow my immunity to be bought at the price of Armorel herself becoming suspect. As to my paramount emotion, of intense and overwhelming gratitude to the dear girl for the incredible generosity of her action of that morning, I cannot trust myself even now to write temperately.
The Second Shot Page 20
