The Book of the Dead

by Robert Richardson

  ‘Absolutely,’ she insisted. ‘Well, put it this way, nobody else I know of in this area has one like it. It could have been a stranger passing through, but it would have been a great coincidence.’

  ‘And you saw the vehicle too, sir?’ the officer asked Maltravers.

  ‘I saw a car which Mrs Stapleton identified for me,’ he corrected. ‘However, I can only distinguish between a Rolls-Royce and a Reliant by counting the wheels, and even then I have to remember which of them only has three. But Mrs Stapleton was quite certain.’

  ‘Then I don’t think we need bother with a statement from you, sir.’ The policeman sounded condescending, as though ignorance about car identification indicated some unfortunate mental short-coming. ‘Mrs Stapleton can include in hers the fact that you were together.’

  They left with a warning that the police might wish to call them as witnesses at some future court hearing, but when Lucinda’s statement was taken to Lambert he was dismissive. It only confirmed Lydden had been in the neighbourhood of Carwelton Hall at lunchtime on the day of the murder; as he did not deny that—although he still insisted Jennifer Carrington had been there as well—eyewitnesses were academic, unless they had seen him leave and return to his shop and remain there.

  ‘I expected a better reaction to what you told them,’ Maltravers remarked as he turned up the lane to the cottage. ‘What you saw could be important. Unless of course they’ve got a confession out of Lydden.’

  ‘Do you really think he could have done it?’ she asked.

  ‘I just find it…I’m not sure.’ Maltravers looked dubious. ‘I knocked down Charlotte’s theory about him and Jennifer being in it together and I’m still positive she’s wrong. But there are still things that don’t make sense, apart from the safe business. For instance, why would Lydden…?’

  ‘Good God!’ Lucinda jumped as they reached Brook Cottage and the reflection of Maltravers’s headlights glittered off a scarlet Fiesta parked by the green. ‘That’s Jennifer’s! What’s she doing here?’

  ‘We’re about to find out,’ said Maltravers. ‘But the widow Carrington doesn’t appear to be helping with police enquiries anymore.’

  7

  ‘Charlotte found his body at four fifteen!’

  The sentence had been waiting to leap out of Jennifer Carrington as her fingers nervously twisted the coiled ivory flex of the telephone in Carwelton Hall, waiting for an answer. After her release on police bail, she had extracted more information from her solicitor as he drove her home.

  ‘What!’ The man’s voice shouted down the line at her. ‘What was she doing there?’

  ‘God knows. She might even have seen you.’

  ‘No, there was nobody about, but…you know what it means?’

  ‘Of course I do! I’ve been thinking about nothing else. The police have only just let me go.’

  ‘What about Lydden?’

  ‘They’re still holding him, but he hasn’t been charged yet. My solicitor told me he’d heard the police found the books all right. But what if he manages to come up with an alibi?’

  ‘He can’t have done so far…calm down.’ He could hear her sobbing. ‘It’s working. When can you have the books back?’

  ‘Not yet, but if they charge him they apparently might be prepared to let them go.’

  ‘Well they should find the gun eventually, which ought to be enough for them. Once you get the books you can bring out the safe thing. We just carry on the way we planned.’

  ‘Come here,’ she pleaded.

  ‘Not at the moment, but I’ll be there soon.’

  ‘But I can’t stand it on my own!’

  ‘Then go and see somebody.’ He sounded impatient. ‘Act naturally. People will expect you to want to talk about it. Tell them about Lydden. The more people who think he’s guilty the better. Call me tomorrow.’

  He rang off abruptly because he wanted to think, not listen to Jennifer’s anxiety. Had Charlotte Quinn seen him? No, because she would have certainly told the police if she had. But her inexplicable arrival could prove disastrous. If the police would just charge Lydden and release those books…then he could decide what to do.

  *

  As Lucinda and Maltravers entered the room, Jennifer Carrington was sitting on a high-backed wooden chair by the fire, an untouched drink on the table beside her. Face pinched and without make-up, brazen hair hastily and carelessly brushed, arms clasped protectively in front of her, she looked like a frightened child.

  ‘Hello.’ Her voice was thin and brittle. ‘I’m sorry, but I had to come somewhere and you were the only people I could think of. I hope you don’t mind. Malcolm said it was all right.’

  ‘When did the police release you?’ Maltravers asked.

  ‘A couple of hours ago. I went back to Carwelton Hall because I had nowhere else to go. I’ve got friends in Manchester, but I couldn’t face driving there after what’s happened. It was all right at first, but then I turned the Ansaphone on.’ She started to cry.

  ‘Some people have been jumping to conclusions,’ Malcolm explained. ‘Jennifer’s told me that one even said that she now had everything she wanted. They didn’t leave their name.’

  The girl raised her head pleadingly to Lucinda, face wet with tears. ‘They were all so cruel! I had to get out. You didn’t know Charles before I met him and I thought…’ She took hold of the arms of the chair as if to stand up. ‘I shouldn’t have come. Perhaps you…’

  ‘No, it’s all right,’ Lucinda interrupted firmly. ‘We’re not going to throw you out. You can tell us what’s happened if you want to.’

  Lucinda’s face was expressionless as she sat down next to Malcolm. Maltravers remembered the incident in the kitchen when she had smashed the plate after hearing that the police were holding Jennifer and Lydden. Her feelings then would not be instantly shaken off.

  ‘Gus and I would like a drink as well, please,’ she said and Malcolm went to the cupboard in the wall.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Maltravers asked.

  ‘Fairly bloody.’ Jennifer Carrington gave a sickly smile. ‘You know the police wouldn’t let me go at first, don’t you? They were all right about it and my solicitor was there, but they kept asking questions and I became confused. Then they released me, although I must let them know where I am.’

  ‘But are they still holding Duggie Lydden?’

  There was a sudden flash of anger. ‘God, I hope they are! After what he’s done!’

  ‘You think he killed Charles?’

  ‘There’s no other explanation.’ For a moment she stared into the fire before looking directly at Malcolm and Lucinda. ‘Can I get one thing straight? If it offends you, I’ll go, but I want it out in the open right from the start. Duggie and I were having an affair.’

  She looked defiant, as if expecting some reaction of offence.

  ‘Jennifer, we’ve known that for a long time,’ Malcolm told her.

  ‘What?’ She sighed. ‘And I thought we’d kept it secret.’

  She took a sip from her glass, then continued with controlled calm.

  ‘I’m not going to apologise for what I did, even after what’s happened. You know how much older Charles was and…well our physical relationship wasn’t enough for me.’ She looked at Lucinda. ‘You’ll understand. I was frustrated. I loved Charles but I needed…all right, I needed sex.’

  Lucinda nodded noncommittally. Jennifer Carrington dropped her eyes. There was a touch of bravado as she continued.

  ‘Anyway, I did it and I don’t care what anyone thinks because it didn’t mean anything. I knew there would be no emotional involvement with Duggie. I tried to be discreet, although if you knew perhaps I wasn’t very good at it. That was all there was to it, but I never dreamed where it would lead to. Dear God, I didn’t.’

  ‘Let me tell you what we know,’ Maltravers interrupted. ‘Charles called here early yesterday morning to drop off the Conan Doyle photocopy and said you were spending the day in Manchester. In t
he afternoon Charlotte went to meet him at Carwelton Hall and found his body. She came here to call the police and I went back with her.’

  ‘The police told me about Charlotte.’ Jennifer Carrington brushed a fleck of dust from her skirt. ‘Do you know why she was meeting Charles?’

  ‘He wanted her to for some reason,’ Maltravers replied evasively. ‘I didn’t ask her why at the time and it didn’t seem to matter later.’

  He knew he could rely on Malcolm and Lucinda not to add anything as he continued. Jennifer Carrington was listening to him very closely.

  ‘Anyway, we were there when the police broke in and had to give statements. We gathered from what they asked us that the books had been stolen. Later we heard you and Duggie were in custody. That’s about it.’

  Jennifer Carrington pushed back a stray strand of hair and sipped her drink again. She had not realised how involved Maltravers had been and was becoming aware that he was taking in everything she said; catching the flutter of leaping flames from the firelight, his very blue eyes never left her.

  ‘Malcolm was telling me why you’ve just been to the police,’ she said. ‘You saw Duggie driving towards Carwelton Hall.’

  ‘Lucinda saw what seemed to be his car on the main road from Kendal,’ Maltravers admitted. ‘But we can’t be certain where he was going.’

  ‘Oh, he’s not denying being at the Hall.’ She paused, as if sorting out what to say. ‘Let me tell you what’s happened. When I got home, the police told me about Charles and that the books had gone. I can’t remember everything, but I blurted out that Duggie must have done it.’

  The blue eyes narrowed. ‘Why did you say that?’

  ‘Because he’d suggested it to me. He actually said I should take the books and go off with him and we could make a fortune.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous,’ Malcolm objected. ‘As soon as he tried to publish those books he’d have been arrested.’

  ‘Of course he would.’ Maltravers lit a cigarette. ‘But there are other possibilities. There are rich collectors who are not particular about how they obtain priceless items for their private pleasure. There would be no shortage of unscrupulous buyers for the Mona Lisa if it ever fell off the back of a lorry. On the other hand…’

  He stopped, although he had not meant to continue. He wanted to let Jennifer Carrington guess at what he was thinking and see if anything came out. If she had been mixed up in the murder with Lydden, but had double-crossed him—as Charlotte had suggested—then the books could eventually become hers and there would be nothing to stop her publishing them. Certainly not conscience. There was also the matter of the safe combination; he wanted to find out how much she knew about that.

  ‘Anyway, what did you tell him?’ he added.

  ‘Not to be stupid.’ She looked at them appealingly. ‘He was changing the rules. I would never have done something like that to Charles! Oh, I know what you’re thinking. If I could sleep with another man then why should I have any feelings for my husband? Everyone gets so moralistic about it. But it wasn’t like that.’

  ‘Preaching morals is a risky business for most people,’ Maltravers commented. ‘Anyway, that’s irrelevant. The point is that when you heard the books were gone, you suspected Lydden. Have you any idea what happened when the police talked to him?’

  ‘Oh, yes and I don’t know whether to laugh or be sick,’ she replied resentfully. ‘When they came back to check his story with me, he’d said he had been to Carwelton Hall at lunchtime, met me there and we’d made love before he left at about two o’clock.’

  ‘But you were in Manchester all day.’ Maltravers stretched forward and flicked ash into the fire. ‘Weren’t you?’

  Jennifer Carrington looked at him sharply as he sat down again. His face was blank and it was impossible to tell if there were any suspicions behind the casual question.

  ‘That’s what the police wanted to know and at first all I could think of was that I’d stopped for petrol at the garage in the village near the M6,’ she replied. ‘But even I realised that only proved I’d set off. Then they asked about what I’d done in Manchester and I showed them receipts for the things I’d bought. I mentioned I’d drawn some money from a cash dispenser at a bank on Deansgate and they wanted to see the receipt for that as well. Did you realise they have the time on as well as the date?’

  ‘I’d never noticed.’ Lucinda sounded surprised.

  ‘Well they do, and it showed ten twenty-nine,’ Jennifer Carrington continued. ‘I went straight from there to Sherratt & Hughes to buy a book for Charles and paid with my credit card, so the shop must have the copy of the Visa form I signed. After that I had coffee in St Ann’s Square and wandered round Debenhams on Market Street for a while before lunch.

  ‘In the afternoon, I did some more shopping in the city centre—I bought Charles a tie among other things—then drove to a shop in Timperley and spent quite a while there looking at dresses. After that I went to a friend’s house and I know it was six o’clock when I got there because she said something about arriving just in time for a drink. They gave me a meal and I left about half past eight.’

  ‘And people will remember you in the shops?’ The inflections of Maltravers’s voice made the question ambivalent.

  ‘I’m not sure about the bookshop or Debenhams because they were both busy. But they’d certainly remember in Timperley because they know me there and I chose a dress they’re altering for me.’

  ‘Well the cash dispenser and credit card receipt seem to take care of the morning,’ Maltravers acknowledged. ‘And Lydden is still saying he met you at Carwelton Hall at lunchtime? Why?’

  ‘God knows,’ she replied. ‘I told him I was going to Manchester yesterday. The only thing I can think is that he’s trying to drag me into it with him. He can be very vindictive. He might be assuming I’d not be able to prove where I was.’

  ‘How did he get into Carwelton Hall?’ Malcolm put in.

  Jennifer Carrington looked remorseful. ‘I gave him a key after he let me have one to his place. That was when it was all a bit silly. I’d forgotten all about it. I’ve lost the one he gave me.’

  She rubbed her hand down the front of her leg as though she was cold. ‘But there’s another thing. My solicitor learned that the police found Charles’s books hidden in Duggie’s house.’

  ‘And have you any idea how he’s explained that little difficulty?’ Maltravers asked. ‘Is he suggesting you put them there?’

  ‘Not as far as I know,’ she replied evenly. ‘But if he can tell the police what he’s told them about me meeting him at Carwelton Hall, he could come up with any crazy explanation…except for one thing. I can’t see how he opened the safe, because Charles was the only person who knew the combination and it…’

  ‘And it had a duress signal built in.’ She glanced at Maltravers in surprise as he completed the sentence. ‘Charles told me about that after dinner the other evening and I pointed it out to the police.’

  ‘So that’s why they asked me about it. They wanted to know if I knew the combination.’

  ‘And do you?’

  His persistent questioning was beginning to make her nervous. Instead of simply accepting that she did not know, he turned it back on to her.

  ‘No, and I didn’t want to. If I have a couple of drinks I chatter on about anything and I knew how important those books were to Charles. I’d have felt dreadful if something had happened because of me. It came up when Stephen Campbell visited us once and his wife asked about it. Charles explained about the alarm and told her my feelings. He said nobody but himself knew the combination now, but it was in a sealed envelope with his will in a strongbox at the office which was only to be opened on his death.’

  ‘What did he mean by saying nobody knew it now?’ Maltravers asked.

  ‘It had always been known in the family, but Margaret—his first wife—and the children were dead. There was nobody else.’

  ‘Certainly not Duggie Lydden,’ Maltravers
remarked. ‘So how was the safe opened? Campbell could have had access to the strongbox.’

  ‘Stephen?’ Jennifer Carrington sounded incredulous. ‘Even if he had he would never have looked in it. I used to be his secretary. He’s absolutely honest.’

  Maltravers threw his cigarette end in the fire. ‘There’s something else I don’t understand. How could Duggie have known Charles was due home early yesterday afternoon, if his idea was to force him to open the safe? Who told him?’

  ‘I certainly didn’t.’

  ‘I’m not suggesting you did. But who else knew?’

  Jennifer Carrington paused for a moment. How many more could she suggest? ‘His secretary of course, and other people in the office. He might have mentioned it to someone at the Masonic lodge he was visiting. There could be others.’

  ‘Including me, because I saw Charles in the morning,’ Maltravers remarked drily. ‘And I’ve got a lousy alibi. Sitting alone in this house reading, with no witnesses until Charlotte arrived after the murder. But it wasn’t me…and would Charles have told Duggie Lydden?’

  ‘He might have done.’ Jennifer Carrington spoke as if something had just occurred to her. ‘I don’t think he was going to the meeting, but Duggie’s a Mason as well.’

  ‘And if he did, Duggie would have known you were in Manchester because you told him, and the house would be empty when Charles came back,’ Maltravers commented thoughtfully. ‘Yes, that’s possible.’

  He suddenly decided to say nothing more. Finishing his drink, he went to pour more for all of them. As he put water in Malcolm’s whisky in the kitchen, he was forced to accept that, whether Lydden had acted alone or Jennifer had been in it as well and was now double-crossing him, everything foundered on the question of how the safe had been opened. Her story about Campbell and his wife being present when Carrington had said he was the only one who knew the combination could be checked easily enough. And it was unimaginable that Carrington would have told Lydden. Maltravers stared at his reflection in the darkened, uncurtained window over the sink in front of him. The vision of the open safe was like some incredible conjuring trick; the impossible performed before your eyes. If he could only see the secret compartment, the hidden mirror, the ingenious machinery in the box…but this was not magic, it was human cunning. As he returned to the living-room, Lucinda was insisting that Jennifer should stay.