Norton thought again. He wondered how much Littlejohn knew.
"Very well. I'd better tell you. The only reason I've tried to keep this dark was that you're so damned suspicious. You just wouldn't have believed me if I'd told you."
"Try me."
"They were Crennell's own stones. He'd got them from somewhere in the past and kept them as a sort of ready-money reserve. . . ."
"Is that what you were hunting for in Queen Street the other night when I found you there?"
"Yes. I just wanted to know they were safe. They weren't there. I know one of the policemen at Castletown and earlier in the day I asked him if Crennell's body had been robbed while he was away on the Rijswijk. He just said they'd heard that his personal belongings had been recovered from the ship. Odds and ends and a thousand pounds in banknotes. That was all. I knew then that if he'd had the diamonds on him in the little chamois leather bag he carried them in, as likely as not they'd been stolen. So I made an excuse to Mrs. Cottier to get in the house and have a look for them. They weren't there. . . ."
"You heard, too, that Leeuwens, skipper of the Rijswijk, had been found dead in the harbour at Amsterdam?"
"The policeman told me that."
"But how did you know about Van Dam becoming captain in his place and that the Rijswijk was on her way back to Douglas?"
"I have my means of information. As a matter of fact, I phoned to my office on the mainland. I've a branch in Hatton Garden which deals in stones with Amsterdam. They got me the full news."
"And you got hold of Van Dam to discuss the diamonds?"
"I wanted to be sure that they weren't aboard the Rijswijk when she was searched."
The Archdeacon was still nursing the kitten which was purring. Outside, the wind was rising and whistling round the hotel. From being annoyed, Norton had now grown earnest. He was anxious to convince Littlejohn. Littlejohn himself felt fagged-out. It was difficult to keep his thoughts together.
"You thought of making an offer to Van Dam for the stones?"
"Certainly not! If he didn't intend handing them over to Crennell's representatives, he'd stolen them. I didn't even get as far as asking him if he had them. We'd no sooner got there than a blasted bobby arrived, flashing his torch about."
"And you resisted arrest, struck the constable, and scuttled off. You'd better go to Douglas to-morrow, Mr. Norton, and make your peace with the police. It might involve you in a magistrates' court, but it will be better that way than my having to arrest you here and now and take you in. Meanwhile, you will not, as you told Mr. Stocks, be leaving to-morrow. Unless you give me your word, I shall take you back to Douglas and have you remanded in custody till it's safe to let you go free again."
"You can't do that. There's such a thing as habeas corpus here, too. I know the law."
"I don't want to start a legal argument at this hour of the night. Have I your word, or do we go back to Douglas ?"
"All right, then. I'll stay on another day or two. Can I go to bed now? I'm not so well . . . ."
He didn't look well either, with his bump on the head and his black eye. Served him right!
"Just one more point and then we'll break up. How did you know about Crennell's diamonds in the first place?"
"He wrote and wanted me to buy them, knowing I was in the trade."
"When did he write?"
"A week or two since. He said he'd send them by post if I was interested, or bring them himself. I replied that I was coming over here in a matter of days and would see him then."
"He said he'd post them to you, did he?"
"Why not? A lot of the diamond trade's done by registered post."
"What are they worth?"
"I haven't seen them."
"How did you know they were in a chamois leather bag, then?"
"Crennell said he kept them in it when he wrote. He said he'd had them a long time and had held on to them as a speculation. Now, he needed the money. . . . "
"Presumably to set up Nancy and her husband on a new farm."
"That's what it looked like. Where are the stones?"
"In the safe at Douglas police station."
"How many of them are there?"
"We counted about forty. Van Dam had them sewn in his belt."
"Well. . . . Crennell said he'd kept them for a rise in price and I guess he was right. He said they were worth about four thousand pounds and he wouldn't take less. Without seeing them I wouldn't make an offer, but diamonds have gone up a lot since Finlo got his lot. It certainly paid him to keep them if they're any good."
"Did he tell you where he got them when he wrote?"
"No. He simply said in his letter that he had them by him, he'd got them years ago, and thought they'd keep just as well as money. Better, in fact, because money got worth less and less. Which was good, common-sense economics with things as they are at present. Perhaps they're the proceeds of some smuggling racket Finlo was mixed-up in years ago. There's still plenty of it done by unscrupulous seamen."
"But Crennell wasn't unscrupulous! He was a good, religious man, with a high sense of duty. All our investigations have proved that. Not a bad word about him; never a dirty trick on record. He was also a little bit ingenuous and simple-hearted, I'd think. The very fact that he kept a small fortune in diamonds in a little bag at home or round his neck plainly shows that he wasn't much of a money-grubber. All he wanted money for seems to have been to help other people. It looks as if he was going to give the lot to Nancy. What I can't understand is, what was he doing with all his wealth on him at the time he was knocked out on the quay the first time?"
"That's your business, not mine. And can I go back to bed now? I've said I'm not well. . . ."
Norton was quite plaintive. All his spirit seemed to have ebbed. He passed his hand over his brow, winced as he touched the lump from Corris's truncheon, and then gently felt his eye to see if the swelling were going down.
"You need a beefsteak on that, Norton," said the Archdeacon, gently putting down the cat and getting up from his chair.
"My wife's bathed it. . . . Well, good night."
He shuffled off, his huge bathgown billowing behind him, and slowly and heavily climbed the stairs again. They could hear him close the door of his room, bump across the floor above, and fling himself back in bed.
Mr. Stocks materialized, looking more haggard and baggy under the eyes than ever, and let them quietly out. The cat followed the Archdeacon and they had to take it back and ring the bell again.
"A good job we've no other visitors staying in," sighed Mr. Stocks as he took the mewing animal over. "Else there'd have been a proper riot. Mr. Norton's just rung the bell and asked for a raw beefsteak and all we've got in the frig is a leg of lamb . . . What a night!"
It was four o'clock when they took the turning to Grenaby. As they passed the houses of the old and superstitious, those who awoke covered their heads in panic at the sight of lights from headlamps and the rush of the vehicle, for many still believe that the Phantom Coach makes its grisly way from Solomon's Corner to Grenaby and that anyone who sees it is sure to drop down dead.
13
ANOTHER BLACK EYE
SINCE the arrival of Littlejohn, Knell had gone off cigarettes and bought himself a pipe, a replica of the Chief Inspector's. He spent a long time smoking it in the vicarage garden on the morning following the fracas on the Victoria. When he arrived at half-past eight in the little police car, rubbing his hands and ready for business, Mrs. Keggin looked at him like a bull at a red rag.
"What do you want at this hour?"
"I've called for the Inspector, Mrs. Keggin."
Knell drew at his new pipe in voluptuous little puffs, for it was drawing well and it was a nice sunny morning into the bargain.
"Well, you can go your ways and come again in about two hours. He's not up yet. Him and the parson were workin' long after you'd gone to bed. They didn't settle till nearly five o'clock. They've earned their rest."
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p; "Five o'clock! Whatever happened?"
"I'm not the one to be tellin' you. It was you started it all, comin' for them last night. Jack-a-dandy work, I call it. They'll be in a jerrude all day from want o' sleep."
"Can I wait for the Inspector, Mrs. Keggin?"
"Ye can come in for a cup o' coffee, then, and afther that, ye'd better scatter, because I've housework to do and I can't be bothered with you clutterin' up the rooms."
When Littlejohn looked from the bathroom window at nine o'clock, he was surprised to see Knell carrying two buckets of coal from the woodshed at the back of the vicarage. About an hour later, they left for Castletown.
On the way, Littlejohn told his companion of events of the night before, after he'd left the police station.
"I always suspected Norton, sir."
"Yes, but not of murder, yet, Knell. I want to see him again, right away, though. Perhaps he'll be in better shape for a talk this morning."
At the Dandy Rig, Norton and his wife were still in their room.
Stocks, the landlord, looked put-out when Littlejohn asked to see Norton again.
"I don't know how he'll take it. It didn't end when you left last night. He'd gone up to bed when I let you out, but it all began again about ten minutes later. He'd a hell of a row with his wife when he got up in his room. He was shouting and she was crying and, unless I'm very much mistaken, he hit her. Then it gradually died down and by five o'clock the house was settled. I feel ruddy awful this morning. I've hardly slept. Are you sure you can't wait till later in the day? He might even hit me if I try to get him up. . . . "
With that, Mr. Stocks, baggy-eyed, half asleep, and five feet eight in his stockinged-feet, pulled himself up an inch higher and clenched his fists.
". . . And if he 'its me, I'll damned well hit him back. I've stood about enough. I'll mop-up the floor with Mr. Clever Norton. . . . "
"Right. Tell him I'm here and I want him as soon as possible, and if he cuts up rough, you do as you say and I'll see he doesn't sue you for assault."
"But . . ."
"Just tell him, Mr. Stocks, and we'll take a stroll along the shore while you do it."
They left the car and walked along the little promenade. The sun was shining and the air crisp and keen. The tide was in and some of the locals were out in their boats, bringing in lobster pots or off fishing beyond the breakwater. A breeze fanned the water into tiny ripples which sparkled in the sunshine.
There were a few golfers on the links at Langness and far out on the skyline, the smoke from the morning boat to Liverpool was just visible. Ahead, the long rocky spur of Santon Head and the little inlet of Cas-ny-Hawin; behind, the clear hills, coloured in autumn bracken and heather, sweeping north and south. A 'plane from the mainland flew in from the sea and made a graceful landing on the airfield.
"I wonder what the Nortons were at after I left them last night."
Littlejohn hadn't spoken for a while. He and Knell had been thoughtfully smoking their pipes and as Littlejohn looked around and admired the beauty of the day, Knell had been occupied throwing a stick in the water for a small dog which had adopted him and which retrieved it as fast as Knell flung it back.
Finally, the dog, satisfied, shook himself all over the bottoms of Knell's trousers, wet them through, and then went home.
When the pair of them got back to the hotel, some surprises were waiting for them.
Norton and his wife were in the small room where they dined and which they used as a private retreat. Both were in a good humour and received the police with a "good morning" each. Tension seemed to have been relieved between them; they looked more friendly than Littlejohn had ever seen them, and Norton's usually sullen face wore a trace of a self-satisfied smile.
Although, when Knell and Littlejohn entered the room, Mrs. Norton tried to hide her wrists by pulling down the sleeves of her cardigan, Littlejohn noticed they were bruised. Norton's black eye was still there but less livid and, as though to keep him company, Mrs. Norton had one as well, which she had half-successfully hidden with a thick coat of powder!
So, after his departure of the night before, the Nortons had had a fight of some kind!
"I thought I told you all you wanted to know in the small hours last night. I can't spare much time now, Littlejohn. It's Cribbin's funeral this afternoon."
Norton had lost all the edge from his temper. In fact, for him, he was quite civil.
"I won't keep you long, sir. How's the eye?"
Norton shrivelled up a bit.
"Getting on all right. What did you want?"
"It's about Crennell's diamonds. Did Van Dam actually offer them for sale? This is important, because, if he did, it's a case of pure theft on his part. If he didn't, but wanted to restore them, it's a minor charge and he should be free."
"I made it quite clear last night, I thought. I knew of the existence of the stones, because Crennell wrote to me about them. When I heard Van Dam was back in the island, I naturally wanted to know if he'd got them."
"He didn't offer to sell them to you?"
"No. He didn't even get a chance to mention it. The bobby blundered on board as soon as we got together, and before I knew where I was, he'd set about us both and blacked my eye. I thought it best to get away."
"I want to ask you again, now, do you or your wife know where Crennell got the stones from?"
"No."
Mrs. Norton wasn't smiling any more. She began to look afraid.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure. How could we know? We've been away from Crennell for years. Anything might have happened."
"What time is the funeral?"
"Two thirty at Ballaugh. We'll have to be getting ready. . . ."
"Will Mrs. Cribbin be fit to see us about one or two things afterwards? How is she?"
"She's all right. Provided you go gently with her, she should be fit to talk to you. Shall I tell her?"
"Please do. We'll be over about four, then."
"Very well. Is that all?"
"Yes."
"I guess we'll see you again. . . ."
"No doubt about it, sir. By the way, could you just give me the date when Cribbin wrote to you about a loan and, if possible, the dates of Crennell's letter to you and your reply?"
Norton looked ready to protest again. He was so edgy that almost any question seemed to rattle his nerves. His wife put her hand on his arm.
"It'll be no trouble, Nim. You have all the correspondence in your brief-case. It's upstairs. I'll get it."
She hurried off and brought down the bag before Norton could refuse. He took it and zipped it open. Then he began to rummage among the papers.
"This is a nuisance when we're in such a hurry. Here we are . . ."
He took out several letters and thumbed them over.
"Cribbin's letter's dated October 10th. . . . And here's a carbon copy of the reply I dictated to him. It's dated October 13th."
He actually handed the correspondence to Littlejohn to read.
Cribbin, in a slow immature hand, telling of a series of bad seasons and his need for more capital and saying that Nancy had suggested his writing to Norton. He wanted to borrow £1,000 for his immediate needs and wondered if Norton could put him in touch with finance for a further £3,000 to improve the farm and put it on its feet.
"Have you noticed how much he asks for, Littlejohn? He'd got a nerve! In my opinion, he was just trying it on because of my wife. I soon put him right on that."
Norton's answer stated that he was unwilling to lend any money at all until he'd gone thoroughly into Cribbin's finances. He always made it a rule to invest his funds with his eyes open and if satisfied that he wasn't risking them unduly. "I shall be crossing to the Island with my wife very soon and will go into matters with you then."
"And you arrived here when, sir?"
"October 23rd. I've told you that before."
Littlejohn took out his note-book and entered details of the letters.
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br /> "And here's Crennell's note and my answer."
Two sheets from a cheap writing-pad, carefully written in a good bold hand.
October 17th was the date of Crennell's note, as though, having received Norton's letter putting-off the loan, Cribbin had got in touch with his father-in-law at once and asked him for the money.
I have need at once for a large sum of money and am thinking of selling some diamonds I have kept by me as an investment. I wondered if you are interested in buying same as I could send them to you or else bring them if you are . . .
All straight and above board in Crennell's usual fashion. The diamonds mentioned as though he had lawfully acquired them. No secrecy; nothing furtive. . . .
And Norton's carbon copy of his typed reply. He was shortly crossing to the Island . . . perhaps about the 23rd or 24th of October, and would discuss the matter then.
So, once again, Charlie Cribbin, hard-pressed for cash, was told to wait.
All the money Crennell could lay hands on was his £1,000 in the savings bank, and he'd have to give notice for that. He'd done it and withdrawn the cash from the local post-office and had it in his pocket ready to hand to Cribbin on October 28th when his first accident happened.
"You arrived on October 23rd, Mr. Norton. Yet, you didn't call to see Cribbin until November 7th, when you found him dead. What was the reason for the delay?"
"I . . . I . . ."
Norton was getting impatient again. His wife touched his sleeve.
"I thought you were going, Littlejohn. I'm in a hurry. Let's get this over quickly. The crossing was a bad one. I took a couple of days to get over it. I'm a bad sailor and I don't much like air travel. I'd decided to go to Druidale the day after Crennell disappeared. There was such a commotion about it and my wife was so upset, I just put Cribbin out of my mind. I was in no mood for him. When Crennell turned up again, I told my wife I'd see Cribbin then. That's all there is to it. She'd been to see Nancy a time or two in a hired car."
"When did you call to see Nancy, Mrs. Norton?"
Death Treads Softly (A Cozy Mystery Thriller) (Inspector Little John Series) Page 15
