by Clara Benson
‘All right, then, but if you didn’t kill him, then who did? And why? Who wanted him dead?’
‘Oh, we all wanted him dead, darling,’ she said without thinking.
‘What?’
‘Nothing,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I was just joking.’
‘No you weren’t. What do you mean, you all wanted him dead? I thought you were all terrific pals.’
‘Well, dead is a strong word,’ she said. ‘I mean, that’s probably a little bit of an exaggeration, but he wasn’t the nicest sort, and he did take advantage rather, and I really didn’t have the cash to spare quite often, but he was always very firm and wouldn’t let me off. And I expect if he was doing it with me then he was doing it with everybody—not that anyone’s confessed to it in so many words, naturally, since it’s not the sort of thing one talks about, but I have heard some strong hints—so I suppose it’s always possible that he pushed things a little too far with someone. Perhaps he caught them on a bad day, or—I don’t know—perhaps they couldn’t afford it that week, or something. You know how one can put up with things for a while, then suddenly get sick and tired of it all, and decide that enough’s enough. So if he really didn’t die of a heart attack, then I expect that’s what happened. Do you see?’
‘No,’ said Freddy, although he was beginning to have a sinking feeling. ‘Why were you paying him money?’
Cynthia looked away and said nothing.
‘Mother,’ said Freddy, as the truth dawned. ‘Do you mean to say Ticky was blackmailing you?’
‘WELL—’ BEGAN CYNTHIA, and shifted uncomfortably.
‘How much did you pay him?’ said Freddy.
‘I don’t know. A few hundred, perhaps? A couple of thousand. I didn’t count it.’
‘A couple of thousand? And you didn’t count it?’
‘How could I? I didn’t pay it all in one go, and it’s not as though he sent me a bill. I just paid him what I could, whenever he asked for it. Forty pounds here, fifty pounds there.’
‘But how often?’
‘Once a month, perhaps? A little more often? I don’t know. Whenever I saw him, I suppose. Of course, I tried to avoid him but it was very difficult, since he was invited to absolutely everything, and it was either pay up or never go out at all.’
‘When did it start?’
‘A couple of years ago, I think. Or was it three? No, definitely two, because I’m sure it was in the autumn after we moved down to Richmond. Or was that the spring? I can’t remember. And would you please stop looking at me like that, darling? I’m trying my best to tell you what I know.’
Freddy’s face was indeed a picture. As a rule, he regarded his mother with a sort of fond exasperation, but the news that she had presumably done something that had laid her open to blackmail had completely thrown him. He hesitated, but his curiosity was too strong for him.
‘I shall no doubt regret asking this, but what exactly did he have on you?’ he said.
Cynthia sighed crossly and drummed her fingers on the banister.
‘This is very vexing,’ she said. ‘If I tell you then I’ve paid him all that money for nothing.’
‘As an insurance policy it certainly seems to have failed in its purpose,’ agreed Freddy dryly. ‘Come on—out with it.’
‘You must promise not to tell your father.’
‘I won’t promise anything of the kind. It’s not an affair or something, is it? I’m sure he’ll understand if you approach him in the right way and beg forgiveness.’
‘An affair? What do you take me for?’ said Cynthia indignantly. ‘I should hope I’m not one of those women. No, it’s nothing like that. Just a little matter of money, I’m afraid.’
‘Ah, now we come to it,’ said Freddy. ‘It’s not the Chemmy again, is it? I thought you’d given that up.’
‘Well, I did stop for a while, after your father put his foot down,’ said Cynthia. ‘But once we were back on an even keel again, I didn’t think there was any harm in just a little game among friends. Just for fun, you know. But one thing led to another, and—well—’
‘You couldn’t stop,’ said Freddy.
‘Can you blame me? I was winning at first—had quite a lucky streak, as a matter of fact, and then I started to think that perhaps I could keep going and even bring in a little extra on top of the Clarion stuff. After all, your father couldn’t possibly object to my starting again if I was always ahead. But then I had a bad night, and then another, and I started putting down more to try and get it back, and things got worse and worse. And then Ticky started coming to the games and kept playing banker, and every time I went bank against him I lost. I’ve wondered since whether he mightn’t have been cheating—you know, with cards up his sleeve, or something—but I have no proof of that. Then on this particular night we’d all had rather a lot to drink, I’m afraid, and things got a little out of hand, and Ticky put down the most enormous amount of money, and we all threw down even more, and he increased the bank to match that, and I was the one to play, and I completely lost my head and asked for another card on six even when everybody shouted at me not to, as I was convinced the next one would be a three.’
‘Let me guess. It was a four.’
‘How clever of you, darling. Yes, it was. Anyway, of course I lost, and to make things worse I didn’t actually have the money as I’d been playing on credit. And everyone was so horrid to me for losing everything that I felt I ought to pay them back, but I couldn’t. And then Ticky took me to one side and said not to worry, that he’d lend me the money, and that I could pay him back whenever I liked, and I was so relieved, and rather stupidly told him how glad I was that your father would never have to find out about it. It wasn’t until I next saw him that I discovered he was expecting me to pay interest on the loan.’
‘Is that what he called it?’ said Freddy.
‘Yes. Naturally, I was taken aback, as I’d scraped together the whole sum to pay him back that day, but I couldn’t very well argue, so I asked him how much he wanted on top of the original amount, and he said he didn’t know the exact total, but that we’d start at forty pounds for now.’
‘But how much was the original amount?’
‘Three hundred pounds, give or take a few guineas. I thought forty pounds would be enough interest for a loan between friends, and I said so, but it was obvious he didn’t agree, and then when I complained—jokingly, you know—he just gave that awful oily smile of his and said I’d better get used to the idea of giving him money if I didn’t want Herbert to know what I’d been getting up to. And that’s where it all started.’
‘And never ended, by the sound of it,’ said Freddy. ‘But why didn’t you just tell Father in the first place? Surely that would have been better than letting this fellow bleed you dry for two years?’
‘Well, yes, I expect it would,’ said Cynthia. ‘But he’d been awfully grumpy about my earlier losses, and I’d promised to keep off the cards, so I didn’t want another row. And at first, you know, I didn’t quite understand that I was being blackmailed. After all, Ticky was a friend of sorts, and friends don’t do that to one another, do they?’
‘Not as a rule,’ said Freddy. ‘But how could you bear to keep on seeing him in company once you’d realized what was happening? You pretended you liked him.’
‘We all pretended we liked him, darling,’ said Cynthia. ‘We had no choice—at least, I expect that’s the case. I’m almost certain he’d got at Nancy, too, from something she said, and I can’t think of a single reason Lady Bendish or Captain Atherton would agree to come to an evening like the one we had last night, when it’s not usually their sort of thing at all. I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if everybody in the party was paying him money under duress. And we all clubbed together to buy him that flask, and simply fawned over him for the whole evening,’ she said in sudden disgust. ‘Do you know, I can’t think what got into me.’
‘I wonder what he had on all the others,’ said Freddy.
�
��Who knows?’ said Cynthia. ‘I can’t imagine Sarah Bendish ever being anything less than perfectly well-behaved, but I suppose even she must have some hidden sins about which we know nothing.’
‘This is all bad news for you, you know,’ said Freddy. ‘The police are sniffing around, thanks to us. What will happen if they discover what Ticky was up to? Even if they never find out about what we did, you were still the last one to see him alive—as they’ll soon know once they’ve found the taxi-driver who brought you home—and you had the most thundering motive to kill him.’
‘Oh, but I’ve been thinking about that. There’s no reason for them to find out about it at all. You see, there was nothing written down. It’s not as though he sent me letters or bills or anything. There’s no record.’
‘Can you be sure of that? Perhaps he kept a tally in a notebook. If he really was living off all his friends, then he must have kept some sort of account of things, don’t you think? I mean to say, if one’s going into the blackmail business, then presumably one has to keep evidence of one’s victims’ sins somewhere. I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if he has a whole folder full of names, dates and payments tucked away in a drawer in his house.’
‘Oh, goodness!’ exclaimed Cynthia. ‘Then what shall I do? How can we get it back? If the police find it then they’ll tell your father and I’ll be in the most awful trouble. Freddy, you must go and get it.’
‘Now, just a minute,’ said Freddy, who saw with alarm that he was about to be dragged further into the business. ‘I’ve already transported the man’s corpse to a more convenient location for you, at great risk to myself, and now you’re asking me to go and burgle his house.’
‘I’m not asking you to burgle anyone’s house,’ said Cynthia. ‘All you need to do is talk your way in past that manservant of his. You’re so good at that sort of thing that I’m sure you’ll manage it with no difficulty at all.’
‘Did this manservant know what Ticky was up to?’
‘Why, I don’t know. I suppose he must have.’
‘Then he’s hardly going to let me in, is he? I mean to say, he’ll be watching for angry customers skulking about, looking for an excuse to knock on the door. What’s his name?’
‘Who? The manservant? How should I know, darling? All I know is that he used to creep up on one and give one a fright whenever one visited. A sneaking sort, I should say.’
‘Two of a kind, it sounds like,’ said Freddy thoughtfully. ‘I wonder if he was in on it. The blackmail, I mean. I can’t believe Ticky did all the dirty work himself. Someone had to rifle through pockets and drawers for evidence of other people’s naughtiness. But of course, this is all speculation, since you say you don’t know whether Ticky was blackmailing anybody else.’
‘But I don’t care about anybody else,’ said Cynthia. ‘I just want to be sure he hasn’t kept any record that he was blackmailing me. It would be too bad if it all came out in the open after I’ve managed to keep it a secret from your father all this time.’
‘It’s not Father you ought to be thinking of. All you’ll get from him is a wigging. But the law has a nasty habit of hanging people who poison their acquaintances, so it’s the police you need to worry about.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Cynthia. ‘I don’t want to be arrested. You must help me, Freddy. You must search the place for me, and bring back whatever it was Ticky was keeping, so I can burn it. Weaver!’ she exclaimed suddenly. ‘That’s his name; I’ve just remembered. A horrid, damp little man. Go and talk to Weaver. Tell him something—anything you like, just so long as you get into the house.’
Freddy sighed. This was all starting to look inevitable. If he did not do as his mother said, and Ticky did have something in writing, then the police were bound to start looking at Cynthia with interest, since they would certainly track down the taxi-driver and find out that she had been the last to see Ticky alive. And after that they would no doubt start asking questions about where exactly he had died, and how he had come to be found outside number 25, Caroline Terrace, since Cynthia could not possibly have moved him herself. Freddy suddenly remembered that he had left the toy cart downstairs in the entrance-hall at Eaton Terrace, and hoped Mrs. Hanbury had put it back in the attic. There was a very real danger that the police would find out sooner or later the part he had played in the affair, and he was already in enough trouble with Mr. Bickerstaffe as it was. Freddy had not read his contract of employment lately, but he was reasonably sure it included a clause prohibiting employees of the Clarion from engaging in illegal activity of any kind, on pain of instant dismissal.
‘Oh, very well,’ he said grumpily at last. ‘I’ll see what I can do. It’s just a pity you didn’t think to pick his pocket after he died. You might have got his door key, at least, and saved me some bother.’
‘Pick his pocket, indeed! What sort of person do you think I am? A common thief?’ said Cynthia with a nervous laugh. ‘But you’ll do it, darling? Splendid. Just make sure nobody catches you. Now, I must just go and say goodbye to Mrs. Belcher and then I think I shall go home and have a little rest. I had to get up early this morning to write my column, and I do believe I’m rather tired after all the excitement of last night. You’ll let me know when you’ve managed it, won’t you? And don’t tell your father!’
And with that she hurried off back up the stairs, smiling gaily as though the conversation had never taken place and she was not in danger of being arrested on suspicion of having committed at least two crimes. Freddy stood on the stairs for a minute or two, wondering what he had let himself in for, then followed her slowly back into the salon. There he spent an hour or so adroitly dodging all attempts to persuade him to embrace the temperance cause and become a benefactor of the Young Women’s Abstinence Association, after which he was quite exhausted, and made up his mind to go home. He wanted to say goodbye to Amelia Drinkwater, but she was not in sight, and he glanced into a side-room, with some idea that she might be there. Instead, he saw the young woman who had earlier been showing interest in the silver, peering into a cupboard. She jumped when she saw him and gave him a fierce glare from under her heavy eyebrows.
‘You’d better come out of there,’ said Freddy. ‘You’re spoiling the look of the thing.’
‘Stuck-up old cats,’ she said furiously. ‘Think they’re it, don’t they? They crowd around and stare at us, as if we were animals in a zoo. They think it’s all so simple. It’s all “do what we say, because we know better than you.” And they give us the chipped china because we’re not good enough for the best—oh no! Well, they’re all stupid, and I won’t be told what to do.’
‘That’s clear enough,’ said Freddy. ‘But in that case, why are you here?’
‘To see things from the inside,’ she said. ‘You lot won’t always have it this easy. Everything’s going to change, and soon—you mark my words. It’s about time the wealth was shared about more equally between the rich and the poor.’
‘Ah,’ said Freddy. ‘You’re here on behalf of your own cause, I see. I have a friend who believes in all that stuff, too. Beastly dull, I call it. Still, I’m all for letting people occupy themselves in whatever manner they see fit. I suppose if I made a donation towards the revolution you wouldn’t go and spend it on drink?’
‘Not I,’ she said, accepting the proffered coin. ‘Can’t stand the stuff.’
‘But you’d better put the teaspoons back before you go.’
She hesitated, then dug in a pocket and brought out three spoons and a pair of silver tongs, which she handed to him.
‘You don’t really give a hoot about politics, do you?’ said Freddy.
‘God helps those who help themselves,’ she said. ‘And I like to help myself.’
And with that she flashed him a mischievous smile that quite transformed her face, and left.
‘THEN IT WAS murder?’ said Inspector Entwistle.
Dr. Ingleby pursed his lips.
‘I shouldn’t like to commit myself in court at thi
s stage,’ he said, ‘but all the signs are that he was poisoned—although with what I can’t tell you yet. It wasn’t cyanide, at any rate. And it wasn’t strychnine either, although I suspect it was some sort of fast-acting alkaloid. I shall need to do more tests before I can be sure. He was certainly moved after he died, however—there’s no doubt at all about that.’
‘That’s suspicious in itself,’ said Entwistle. ‘Presumably it means someone was not only with him when he died, but also had a hand in it. If they didn’t, then why didn’t they simply call a doctor when he collapsed, instead of going to all the trouble of moving him? No, whoever moved him killed him all right. But in that case, why did they put him outside number 25, instead of his own house?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ said Ingleby cheerfully. ‘That’s your job, and quite frankly I don’t envy you it.’ He rose. ‘Very well, I must get back, but I thought you’d like to know my preliminary findings. I shall be doing some more tests this afternoon and I hope to have something for you by tomorrow.’
And with that he gave a nod and hurried out.
‘What do you think, sir?’ said Sergeant Bird to Entwistle.
‘I think it’s all distinctly fishy,’ replied the inspector. ‘We’d better speak to this Weaver fellow again, and find out more about what his employer had been getting up to before he died.’
‘No use in doing that this morning, sir. He sent in a message to say he was going to Dorking for the weekend. He won’t be back until late this afternoon, he said.’
‘What? That’s rather convenient for him. On Friday he was too upset to talk to us, and now he’s off gallivanting around the country.’
‘He’s gone to visit his frail old mother, like a good boy,’ said Bird.
‘Hmph,’ said Entwistle. ‘I suppose he’ll have to wait until later, then. Still, at least he wasn’t too distraught to tell us where Maltravers had been that night. All right; let’s go and question the waiters at this place in Piccadilly.’
