“No, I went down to Ashleigh Green on purpose to see him. When I got to the village my headlights lit up the stocks. I didn't know it was Arnold then. I got out and went to inspect.”
“And finding it was Arnold, came home again.”
“Well, why not?” demanded Antonia. “If Arnold was dead there was no point in staying.”
“He might have tried to do something,” Violet said in a low voice. “He might have called for help.”
“A womanly thought, sweetheart. Rudolph, why didn't you?”
“I didn't want to get mixed up in it. I saw there was nothing to be done.”
“What time was all this?” inquired Giles.
“I don't know. I mean, I'm not sure. Somewhere between twelve and one in the morning.”
“At which salubrious hour you were going to knock Arnold up for a friendly chat,” observed Kenneth. “The whole story seems to me to want revision. Personally I should jettison it, and think out a new one. The moths have got at this one pretty badly.”
“Well, I wasn't going to knock Arnold up,” Mesurier said, throwing away his cigarette. “I've - I've been through a pretty bad time over this, I don't mind telling you. Vereker meant to ruin me. He could have, easily. Even if he didn't win his case, the mere fact of my being in such a case would absolutely finish me. I - I was utterly desperate. Didn't know which way to turn. I knew Vereker was going down to Riverside Cottage; I heard him tell Miss Miller so. Of course, I was mad, but I meant to follow him there and shoot him, making it look like a burglary. I'd been to the cottage once. I knew it was fairly remote, and I knew a place where I could hide my car. I thought - if I broke into the place - I could conceal myself behind the bookcase in the hall, and when Vereker came down to investigate, I could shoot him from there and make a getaway before anyone else came on the scene. That's my story, and if you don't like it you can just do the other thing!”
“You've only to tell me what the other thing is and I'll go and do it at once,” promised Kenneth. “The story makes me want to weep. My poor sister!”
“Yes, but there's just one thing,” said Antonia seriously. “It's so dam' silly that people are quite likely to think it's true. Don't you agree, Giles?”
“It's quite possible,” said her cousin.
“Well, if that's your opinion why not let us all in on it?” said Kenneth. “Let's all say we burgeoned off to kill Arnold, but found someone else had done it for us.”
“I shouldn't advise it,” replied Giles. “It's not the sort of story that bears being told a second time.”
“Second time!” exclaimed Kenneth scornfully. “It had whiskers on it when Rudolph dug it up.”
“It happens to be true,” said Rudolph. “And it isn't any weaker than the story you told. Personally I thought that the thinnest thing I'd ever heard.”
“Yes, I quite see that,” said Antonia, trying to be fair, “but Kenneth's story was a much better one, all the same, because you can't disprove it, and it doesn't place him anywhere near Ashleigh Green. I really don't think much of yours, Rudolph. Can't you think of something better? We'll all help, won't we?”
“Speaking for myself, no,” replied Giles.
“Then I think it's pretty mouldy of you. Kenneth, what do you think Rudolph had better say?”
“I won't have a hand in it,” said Kenneth. “My first idea was the best: let Rudolph be the scapegoat. It's the best solution all round. He's only a nuisance as it is.”
“He may be a nuisance, but you needn't think I'm going to let him carry the blame for you!” Antonia flashed.
“Who said it was for me? Aren't you in on this?”
Giles intervened once more, his eyes on his wristwatch. “This is all very enthralling, but may I remind you, Kenneth, that I came here to talk to you of something quite different? I suggest that we close this entirely arid discussion.”
“Certainly!” said Mesurier, his eyes smouldering. “I'm leaving in any case. I may say that if I'd known the sort of thing I was going to be treated to I should never have come. Though I suppose I might have guessed! Oh, please don't trouble to show me out!” This last savagely polite remark was cast at Antonia, who, however, paid no heed to it, but followed him into the hall, carefully shutting the door behind her.
Kenneth drifted back to the sofa. “Well, with any luck that ought to bust up the engagement,” he observed.
“What you need is kicking,” replied Giles, without heat.
“Oh no, I don't! You can't pretend that you think it would be a good thing for Tony to marry that sickening lizard. Besides, Murgatroyd doesn't like him.”
“Mr Carrington,” said Violet suddenly, “what did you think of his story?”
He glanced down at her. “Nothing much. I've heard more improbable ones.”
“Somehow I don't like him,” she said. “And if he really had nothing to do with it why didn't he call for help?”
“Panic, Miss Williams.”
She looked rather contemptuous. “Yes, I suppose so. Personally I've no use for people who lose their heads in emergencies. Do you want to talk privately with Kenneth?”
“Lord, no!” said Kenneth. “It's only about money. How much can I have, Giles?”
“I'll lend you what you want for your immediate needs,” replied Giles.
“Are you trying to put the wind up me?” demanded Kenneth. “Has anything gone wrong with the Will?”
“No, nothing at all,” said Giles. “But apart from the fact that it wouldn't look too well for you to draw on the estate within three days of Arnold's death, there's a little formality to be attended to before the executors will advance you any money. We must prove Roger's death.”
“What a bore!” said Kenneth. “How long is that likely to take?”
“Not very long, I hope. How much do you want?”
“Would three hundred break you?” asked Kenneth persuasively.
“I can just stand it. I'll make out a cheque for that amount now, and you can write a formal receipt while I'm doing it.”
In the middle of this labour Antonia came back into the room and announced that Rudolph had gone.
“Well, that's one good thing, anyway,” remarked Kenneth. “Still adhering to his story?”
“He swears it's perfectly true.”
“He'd better go and swear it to old Hannasyde and see how he takes it. You've got to have faith to swallow a chestnut like that.”
“I must say I thought it was pretty fatuous myself,” admitted Antonia. “I didn't like to pour much more scorn on it, though, because he was a trifle ruffled. The trouble is, he doesn't altogether understand us when we speak, Kenneth.”
Giles looked up, half smiling. “Rather a grave disadvantage in a life-partner, Tony.”
“I know. It occurred to me about half an hour ago. I do hope I haven't made another mistake.”
“It would be rather difficult for the average man to understand you when you speak, as you call it,” said Violet. “I must say, I think a great many of your remarks are extremely odd, to say the least of it.”
“Bless you, darling,” said Kenneth, blotting his receipt. “What a commonplace mind there is behind that lovely face!”
She flushed. “If you think me commonplace I wonder you want to marry me.”
“I've explained it to you before, my sweet. I worship beauty.”
“Yes, so you say, but I notice that doesn't hinder you from running after perfectly ordinary-looking girls like Leslie Rivers.”
“Jealous little cat,” he remarked. “I've known Leslie for years. There you are, Giles. I'll pay it back as soon as I touch. Thanks, by the way. I can now buy you a vulgar ring, beloved.”
“I don't want a vulgar ring, I can assure you. Simply because I happen to prefer diamonds to any other stone -”
“You shall have a slab of a diamond, my pet. A large, table-cut one, which no one could possibly suppose a fake because it's so improbable.”
“Are you going to blow the
whole of that on a ring?” inquired Giles.
“I should think so,” replied Kenneth. “Because if I'm the heir the bills can wait over. And when I get my hands on the Vereker fortune, Violet, you shall have a string of pearls as well, and some carved jade ear-rings. How's that?”
“I shall love the pearls, but I don't know that I care awfully for jade. You see such a lot of it about.”
“God help the poor wench!” groaned Kenneth.
Giles screwed on the cap of his fountain pen.
“Postpone hostilities till I've gone,” he requested. “You haven't forgotten it's the Inquest tomorrow, have you, Tony?”
“As a matter of fact, I had, but I remember now that you mention it. You said you'd run me down in your car. Do you mind if I bring one of the dogs?”
“Yes, I do. I'll call for you round about ten o'clock. Show me out, please. Good-bye, Miss Williams: so long, Kenneth.”
Antonia took him out into the hall “Giles, I've made the most shattering discovery,” she said awe-inspiringly.
“Good God, Tony, what is it?” he asked, amused.
“Rudolph and Violet. Soul-mates. I can't think why I didn't realise it before. They've got the same type of mind. Do you think I ought to point it out to them?”
“No, I don't,” he said firmly. “I should leave them to find it out for themselves. Do you really mean to marry Mesurier?”
“Well, I thought I did,” she replied, wrinkling her brow. “He can be awfully attractive, you know, though I must say he doesn't shine much under adversity.”
“Tony, you impossible brat, are you in the least in love with him?”
“I don't quite know,” said Antonia sadly. “To tell you the truth, Giles, I'm not at all sure what being in love is like. I thought I was at one time, but I seem to have gone off Rudolph a bit lately. It's really very difficult.”
“I should give him the push if I were you,” he recommended.
“No, you wouldn't. Not when he's in trouble,” said Antonia.
“Then the sooner he gets out of trouble the better.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “But the question is, will he get out of it? That car alibi is all very well, but the more you think of it the more you can't help suspecting that there's a snag in it if only you could find it. You know, this rotten murder's beginning to be a scourge instead of a blessing. Who did it, Giles? Have you got any idea?”
“No, none at all. I have a feeling that we aren't anywhere near the truth yet. It wouldn't surprise me if something totally unexpected cropped up suddenly.”
“Oh, why?” she asked, interested.
“I don't know,” said Giles Carrington. “Just a pricking in my toes.”
Chapter Eleven
The Inquest, held at Hanborough next morning, was not productive of any new evidence. Antonia professed herself frankly disappointed, though she listened with interest to the news that the murdered man's hands had borne traces of having done some repair on a car. When it was disclosed that the spare wheel on Arnold Vereker's car was flat, and showed a bad puncture, she leaned towards her cousin and whispered: “That dishes Kenneth's theory, anyway.”
She gave her own evidence with a cheerfulness which, combined with the absence of decent mourning, rather shocked the members of the jury. To Giles Carrington's relief she was not at all truculent. She answered the Coroner with a friendliness which was due, as she afterwards explained to Giles, to his likeness to the veterinary surgeon who had attended Juno's last accouchement.
It was evident that neither the Coroner nor the jury knew what to make of her, but her unconventional attitude towards Superintendent Hannasyde, whom she greeted, when he rose to put a question to her, as an old and valued acquaintance, made quite a good impression.
Rudolph Mesurier was not called, nor was his name mentioned, and the proceedings terminated, as had been foreseen, in a verdict of Murder against a Person or Persons Unknown.
Coming out of the Court-room Giles Carrington fell in beside Hannasyde, and murmured pensively: “It's the perfect crime, Superintendent.”
Hannasyde's slow smile crept into his eyes. “Nasty case, isn't it? What's happened to your disarming client?”
“Gone to the Police Station,” replied Giles, with complete gravity, to give Sergeant - “I'm afraid I've forgotten his name, but he breeds Airedales - an infallible prescription for the cure of eczema. Mesurier turned out to be a bit of a red herring, didn't he?”
“Oh, you spotted the snag, did you?” returned the Superintendent. “I thought you would. I'm satisfied, by the way, that he was not in his rooms between twelve and two that night, but at first glance that doesn't seem to help much. Sergeant Hemingway here, however” - he indicated his bright-eyed subordinate - “thinks there might be a way out of it. We shall see.”
“Several ways,” said Giles, nodding to the Sergeant. “We discussed them all ad nauseam last night. But, speaking for myself, I don't like the idea of an accomplice.”
“No, sir,” said the Sergeant instantly. “Not in a murder case. That's what I say. But that isn't to say it couldn't have been done without, not by a long chalk.”
Giles was looking at Hannasyde. “You don't much fancy Mesurier, do you?” he said.
“I don't know that I fancy anybody much,” answered Hannasyde. “One thing seems fairly certain, though. Whoever murdered Arnold Vereker was a very cool, clever customer.”
“I rather think that rules out Mesurier then,” said Giles. “He's neither cool nor clever.”
“You can't go by how he acts now, sir,” said the Sergeant. “Some of the wiliest of 'em lead you up the orchard by making out they're so silly they couldn't tread on a black beetle without carrying bits of it all over the house for hours after. He was cute enough, the way he cooked the Company accounts.”
Giles took out his cigarette-case and opened it. “All carefully planned,” he said. “Not done in the heat of the moment.”
The Superintendent nodded, but Sergeant Hemingway pursed up his lips. “It looks like it was coldblooded,” he said, “but you can go astray on that line of reasoning. Some people lose their heads when they're all worked up, but there's others as don't. Seem to get needle-sharp. Same effect as taking a pinch of cocaine - not that I've ever done so, but that's the effect they say it has. Comes in psychology - which the Superintendent here doesn't hold with.”
Hannasyde smiled, but declined the gambit. His shrewd grey eyes were on Giles's face. “What have you got up your sleeve, Mr Carrington? Are you going to spring something new on us?”
“Oh, no!” said Giles. “But I became prophetic yesterday, and the fit hasn't passed yet. Something is going to turn up.”
The Sergeant was interested. “Kind of premonition?”
“Premonition!” snorted the Superintendent. “A very safe bet! Of course something's going to turn up. All I hope is that it'll have an alibi I can check up on, and won't have spent the night walking to Richmond, or in bed with a headache, or alone in somebody else's house!”
Giles's eyes were alight. “I'm afraid you're feeling ruffled, Superintendent.”
Hannasyde laughed and held out his hand. “Can you wonder at it? I must be getting along now. That minx of a client of yours! The idea of saying "Oh, hullo!" to me in Court! Did she tell you we parted yesterday not on the best of terms? You can warn that young brother of hers, if you like, that it isn't always wise to be too clever with the police. Good-bye!”
They shook hands. “Come to my chambers, and smoke a cigar this evening, and talk it over,” invited Giles. “Without prejudice, you know.”
“Without prejudice I will, gladly,” replied Hannasyde. “Thanks!”
On this they parted, Hannasyde and the Sergeant to catch a train, Giles to extricate his cousin from the Police Station, and take her to have lunch before motoring back to town.
She was in a cheerful mood, and appeared to consider herself safely out of the wood. Giles disillusioned her, and she at once declared that
to arrest her now would be an extremely dirty trick, and one of which she did not believe Superintendent Hannasyde capable.
“Except for an occasional brush we don't get on at all badly,” she said. “In fact, I think he quite likes me.”
“That won't stop him doing what he believes to be his duty.”
“No, but I don't think I'm really one of his suspects,” said Antonia. “He's got his eye more on Kenneth, or, rather, he had till Rudolph cropped up. I wish I could make my mind up about Rudolph, by the way.”
“Whether to marry him or not? Let me help you.”
“Oh no, not that! As a matter of fact,” she added candidly, “I shouldn't be surprised if he called the engagement off. He was considerably peeved last night, you know. What I meant was, did he do it, or not?”
“You know him better than I do, Tony. It doesn't look as though he did.”
“No, but I'm not so sure. I didn't think he'd be so rattled, somehow. Because the only time I've ever seen him in a tight corner, which was when a motor lorry shot out of a side-turning one day, he was as cool as a cucumber, and completely and utterly efficient. That was partly why I fell for him. The ordinary person would have jammed on the brakes, and we'd have been smashed into, but he just trod on the accelerator, and sort of skimmed by in a huge semicircle, and then went on with what he'd been saying before it happened.”
Giles was unimpressed. “The biggest ass of my acquaintance is an expert driver,” he said. “It's one thing to keep your head at the wheel of a car, and quite another to keep it when confronted by the shadows of the gallows, so to speak. My own impression of your elegant young man is that he wouldn't — to put it vulgarly—have had the guts to do it.”
“That's what I'm not sure about,” said Antonia, quite unresentful of this slur upon her betrothed's character. “His mother was foreign - at least, half, because she had an Italian father or mother or something - and occasionally Rudolph reverts a bit. He has white rages. You never know with people like that. They might do anything. Of course, that story he told might have been true, though I admit it sounded thin, but, on the other hand, it might be a masterpiece of low cunning. Same as me now. For all you know I'm being cunning talking like this.”
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