The Case of the Magic Mirror: A Ludovic Travers Mystery

by Christopher Bush

  After a moment’s thought she said she had told the other police gentleman about Rogerley, how he had come to the cottage and asked to see Sivley, and was very upset because he was away, and nevertheless wouldn’t leave any message. Wharton pressed his original question and she admitted that she hadn’t been asked it before. As far as she remembered, her son had mentioned Rogerley only once. She didn’t know racing terms but what she said amounted to this. Sivley had been looking at the morning paper and be remarked casually that Rogerley had a couple of runners.

  “Hope he brings off a double,” he said. “Wouldn’t do me any harm either.”

  That was all he learned, and it seemed to me to be plenty. Wharton had made no comments till we were going through the churchyard again.

  “What d’you think of her as a witness?”

  “A very reliable one,” I told him. “I think it’d be hard for her to tell a lie.”

  “Let’s sit down here,” he said. “The seats are hard but it’s cool.”

  Everything has to have a first time, and that was the first time I’d discussed a murder case in a church porch. But perhaps I shouldn’t have referred to a discussion, for it was George who did the talking. It always was a fault of his, it seems to me, to let temporary sentiment sway him, and not to be sufficiently fastidious in his selection of vital points. Because he liked the old lady, for instance, and had seen her trembling lip, he let his sympathy include Sivley himself. The stress, it seemed to me, should have been on the fact that Sivley had lied to his mother about May Bullen’s child, and if he deceived his mother once, he could do so again. In other words, everything he did and said that afternoon might have been acting and deceit.

  “Well,” he said, and with a pretended sympathy for myself, “that theory of yours doesn’t look any too promising. In fact it looks as if what we’ve just heard has knocked the stuffing clean out of it.”

  I merely nodded.

  “Sivley’s intentions that day, there’s the point. Right up to the moment he left he insisted he was coming back. He said he was going to travel, and he bought a motor-bike at Ipswich to prove it. That’d be cheaper than rail. It’d cost him a couple of gallons of petrol to where he had to go, and back.”

  “You know where he was going?”

  He looked surprised. “Yes, don’t you? Why, dammit, I as good as told you. To see Rogerley, that’s where he was going.”

  “Yes, but why?”

  He snorted impatiently. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re losing your touch. Wasn’t there a scheme for Rogerley to open a branch swindle in Hampshire? Wasn’t it so secret that we didn’t learn about it till a few weeks ago? But Sivley must have known about it.” He held up an impatient hand. “No, don’t ask me how I know that. It has to be right, and it is right. Otherwise, why did Rogerley come down here to Sivley’s home as soon as Sivley came out? Why, to keep his mouth shut, of course. And now do you see where Sivley was going? He was going to blackmail Rogerley. That’s where his money was coming from. Rogerley got off at that trial. Would he have got off if we’d known then what we know now? Of course he wouldn’t. That’d have been the little thing that was needed to tip the scales.”

  That was all news to me and it was news that made me almost leap off that hard seat. I made no comment on George’s disclosures for I was far too busy with my own quick thoughts. Do you see what that news meant to me? Well, you will later, but in the meanwhile I can say that it gave me the very thing I might have hunted for and never found—a hold over Harper.

  “Mind you,” George was going on, “it’s still up to us to find out what made Sivley change his mind after he got to Ipswich. My own idea is that he saw Craigne in Ipswich, purely by chance. Craigne must have had his headquarters at Ipswich. Trimport would have been too dangerous. I mean, he wanted that Saturday speechifying to be a surprise.”

  “Very likely,” I put in, just to show I was still there.

  “That’s how Sivley learned about what Craigne was going to do at Trimport. I’d say Sivley tried to get money out of him. Maybe Craigne was the father of that child after all. Then they quarrelled, and parted. Sivley brooded, then worked out his scheme. We needn’t go into details, but after he’d done Craigne in, then his brain snapped. He went balmy, like that aunt of his, and all his brain told him was to finish the job and kill Passman. How’s that strike you?”

  “As theories go it’s as good as any,” I said. To tell the truth I was not sorry he was abandoning Frank’s famous theory. Frank and I could now get to work on it with clear consciences, not that Frank had any conscience in the matter. But if it hadn’t been for Frank I’d certainly have done a considerable deal of arguing. It would have been my duty to argue if only as Wharton’s very humble subsidiary, and there’d certainly have been plenty to argue about, for his own theory was as full of holes as Gruyère cheese.

  He got up to go, and as I wriggled and winced while the circulation returned, he began talking about Charlotte Craigne. He was ever so slightly patronising, and when he said there weren’t any Messalinas and Lucrezia Borgias about nowadays. I did do a bit of arguing.

  “Don’t let that rubbish about class confuse you,” I told him. “The Kipling tag’s still true. Women are sisters under the skin, and I’ve known pure-bred Siamese cats that could scratch better than the old roof-prowler.”

  “But murdering her own husband!”

  “What about the Thompson-Bywaters case?” I fired at him. “You’ll say the woman there only killed by suggestion. But isn’t that the case against Mrs. C.? She suggested things to Sivley. And,” I went on, “that’s why Matthews is the key point. While we may never prove the suggestions to Sivley—unless Sivley is caught and can be made talk—we can prove something by following up the Matthews end, especially if we find his body.”

  No more was said because we were approaching the pub. I had seen Frank heading out from the porch and now he was coming to meet us.

  “I’ve been looking around for you, Mr. Wharton,” he said. “Porter’s got a telegram or message or something.”

  Off hurried Wharton. Frank gave me a wink.

  “It’s a telephone message from Trimport. A new witness they’d like him to see. And what were you two doing in the old church porch?”

  I ordered a couple of beers to be sent outside to the garden, and when they came, I told him about the hour we’d spent. Before I’d finished, Wharton came bustling out with the news that he was off to Trimport.

  “No need for you to come,” he told me. “I ought to be back well before tea-time.”

  “Mr. Wharton always calculates time in terms of meals,” I told Frank.

  Wharton protested vigorously. No man thought less about food and drink, he said, and when I said I’d have to drink the tankard I saw coming for him, he dug Frank in the ribs and said that was different.

  “The old boy’s in good form this morning,” Frank told me when George’s car had at last moved off. “What about you and me having another beer?”

  “Oh, no, we don’t,” I said. “You and I have got a job of work to do, and we’ve got to work damn’ fast. You and I are going to find out if Queenie really had a hand in disposing of Matthews.”

  He gave me that look of cynical amusement. “And all before Wharton gets back?”

  “More or less,” I said, and perfectly seriously.

  “A pretty tall order,” he told me. “What’ve we got? Three hours, perhaps, and you’re going to pin Matthews on Queenie.” He grinned. “Suppose you wouldn’t like to tell me how?”

  “Why not?” I said. “If she killed Matthews, then she wouldn’t baulk at killing someone else. We’re going to give her the opportunity!”

  CHAPTER XIII

  WE GET TO WORK

  We had lunch up in Frank’s room and, as it was a cold one, we got it earlier.

  “All the better Wharton turning up his nose at your scheme,” I told Frank.

  “If he has,” Frank said. “Maybe it’s all camouflage.
”

  “I think we can trust him this time,” I said, “even if he is as crafty as a zoo full of monkeys. Your friend Queenie must have impressed him. I believe he’s rather ashamed of himself now for ever having had a suspicion of her. What he refuses to get into his head is what I’ve hinted at, and one hint’s usually enough. Queenie was a desperate woman. Do you know what Passman actually allowed her a year?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Five hundred a year, and the way she threw it about wouldn’t make it last very long, especially if she was keeping Rupert going as well. I needn’t tell you the two most powerful motives in crime,” I went on. “As the holder of a diploma in the art of detection you know they’re love and greed, even if the love was for herself.”

  “That wasn’t a bad crack about the diploma,” he told me. “But what’s this about getting somebody murdered?”

  “You listen carefully,” I said. “I may have to be a bit long-winded but I want you with me. If Wharton’s dropped Queenie, then he won’t be having her watched. That means we won’t have to dodge his men as well as dodging her. That’s going to be all to the good, as you’ll see.

  “And now this scheme of ours. The only way to get at her is through Matthews. Did she or did she not get Matthews made away with? Is she capable of doing it? Once we’re sure of that, then we can work back with twice the confidence. You and I think she wouldn’t have scrupled about having him done in. Her scheme had come off and then Matthews had to poke his nose in, and he was killed because he knew too much. That’s so, isn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  “Matthews was disposed of,” I went on, “and she could breathe again. At this moment she’s feeling on top of the world because she knows his body won’t be found. And that’s where we now step in. We produce a Matthews the Second. Someone who also knows too much. We’re going to shatter Queenie’s serenity. Until that someone’s removed she’ll be in as much danger as ever. That someone is Harper.”

  “Yes,” he said, and frowned. “I think I’m beginning to see.”

  “Harper will attempt to blackmail her,” I went on. “If she attempts to kill him, then we know she killed Matthews. She may even try to have him disposed of in the same way as Matthews. She may in that way actually lead us to Matthews!”

  “A damn’ good scheme,” he said. “I wish I’d thought of it myself.”

  “Well, you’re the one who’s going to be in sole charge of it,” I assured him. “Harper’ll act under your orders.”

  “That’s the weak spot—Harper. He’s not gifted with too many brains. And do you think he can be trusted?”

  “I’ve got Harper where we want him,” I said. “As for the rest, it’ll be up to you to coach him till he’s pat. But I’m not worrying about all that. What I’m wondering is this. Can you get a dictaphone installed in Queenie’s room.”

  He gave a low whistle. “I don’t know. It might be managed. It may cost a bit in backsheesh.”

  “Never mind that,” I said. “I’m in this so far and I’m going through with it, otherwise there’s no guarantee that I shan’t have that damnable woman round my neck for the rest of my life. Let’s assume, then, that you ring her to-morrow morning and say you’ll be seeing her on the Monday. Ask her to tea or dinner somewhere, and get the dictaphone fixed while she’s out with you. Harper will go to town with you to-morrow evening, and you can park him at a suitable hotel, and get his part rehearsed. Then he can call on Queenie on the Tuesday morning.”

  “I’ll do my best,” he said. “And when do we see Harper?”

  “The minute this meal’s over.”

  “And just one other thing before I forget it. Do I still give Queenie the letters of introduction?”

  “You certainly do,” I said. “We’re going to work a Hitler stunt; one of these wars of nerves. If she loses her nerve and bolts, we’ll know where she’s bolting to.”

  The meal was practically over and he asked no more questions till we were actually on the way to the Lapwings. Then he was wanting to know how he was going to be explained away to Harper.

  “You keep your ears open and you’ll hear,” I said. “I’m going to get Harper to come to that shed place where he saw me before, and you can get between the side and the hedge where you’ll catch every word. Then at a suitable moment I’ll call you in.”

  I think Harper knew from the gravity of my looks that what I wanted that confidential chat for was something likely to be unpleasant for himself. He was a simple soul, as Frank had said, and his thoughts could be read. Maybe that was why his physique and a certain showy skill had never been enough to carry him through against an opponent who had brains as well as brawn.

  “I’ve really come here to help you, Harper,” I began. “I’m sorry for you in many ways. I think you got into the hands of clever crooks. And, of course, you had to pay for what you did. But my view is that once a man’s paid, he shouldn’t be victimised. You’ve got a chance to go straight again, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, sir,” he said, and was nervously moistening his lips.

  “Well, I’m here as your friend,” I went on. “Something has come to light that’s going to land you in very serious trouble. There’s just a bit of hope for you, that nobody else knows about it but me. There’s just the chance that I may save you, but it’ll depend on your making a clean breast of things, and doing what I tell you.”

  He was puzzling his wits, wondering what I was driving at. I shed a little more light.

  “A man can’t be tried twice for the same identical crime,” I said. “But he can be tried for another crime of an exactly similar kind. Now do you understand?”

  Something was dawning on him. He gave a look, then his eyes turned away.

  “Look at me, Harper,” I said, “and God help you if you don’t tell me the truth. If you do, then I’ll do my best to get you clear. You saw Rogerley when he was down here, didn’t you?”

  “Well, yes. Perhaps I did, sir.”

  I waved an impatient hand. “No hesitation, or I’m finished with you. Perhaps you’d rather talk to Superintendent Wharton. Or to a magistrate.”

  “Then I did see him, sir.”

  “He came to see Sivley and he came to see you,” I said, and wagged a finger at him. “He wanted to keep your mouths shut about a certain scheme that would have been in operation if your main scheme hadn’t been found out. That’s so, isn’t it?”

  “Well . . . yes, sir. Only I don’t know what he did with Sivley.”

  “How much did he give you?”

  He licked his lips and looked away again.

  “Not much, sir,” he said after a moment or two. “Twenty-five pounds to be exact.”

  “I see,” I said, and nodded heavily. “For twenty-five pounds you made yourself an accessory to a swindle. You accepted money to keep your mouth shut. To defeat the ends of justice, as they say. If it gets out, then what’ll you get? Another six months, perhaps. Who knows.”

  It was rather painful listening to his protestations. He had meant nothing wrong. No one had been more surprised than he when Rogerley had offered him money.

  “He insisted on a receipt?”

  “Yes, sir, I gave him a receipt. We faked it as if he was paying me back what he’d borrowed.”

  I clicked my tongue. “As if a judge wouldn’t see through that.” Then I was heaving a sigh. “Well, Harper, what’s it going to be? I think I can get you out of this scrape, but by God if you open your mouth to a living soul, even to Superintendent Wharton if he questions you, then I’m through with you. Are you prepared to do what I suggest, or not?”

  He was prepared to do anything. I think he’d have black-jacked Wharton if I’d suggested it.

  What I did was to spin a highly coloured yarn, full of intriguing vagueness and mysterious allusions. Harper didn’t know all that was behind that swindling scheme, I said. Naturally he wouldn’t be told everything, but only just enough to string him along. Harper would be surprised, for i
nstance, to learn that the swindle was being operated in the States, and that some of his old confederates were mixed up with that too. What was more, some people were now suspected whose names had never come out. Suppose Mrs. Craigne, for instance, had been involved in things. Suppose she’d been responsible for the American end.

  “You’re no friend of hers,” I said. “Provided your own name could be kept out of it, you’d do anything to get her in the dock.”

  “By God, I would that, sir!”

  “Right,” I said. “And now here’s another bit of news that will surprise you.”

  And so to Frank. That American gentleman staying at the Oak was also a friend of Harper’s, I said, and wished to keep him out of trouble. He’d been looking forward to taking boxing lessons, for instance, and I knew he’d be upset if he had to leave Brazenoak before they could begin. But the American gentleman wasn’t quite what everyone thought, I said. Suppose he was an American investigator specially sent over to inquire into Mrs. Craigne’s connections with those American crooks.

  “Now then,” I said. “It’s Mr. Franks you’ll have to work with, and he’ll tell you what he wants you to do. All I can tell you is that it’s to do with the disappearance of Matthews. We think Mrs. Craigne knows something about it.”

  “That was a funny business, sir,” he began assuring me. I held up a warning finger.

  “Mr. Franks should be here by now,” I said. “I asked him to come along. But don’t forget what I told you. If you don’t want to see the inside of a gaol again, keep your mouth shut and do as you’re told.”

  I looked cautiously out as Frank made an even more cautious withdrawal from the thick hedge. Then I was hurrying back to the Oak in case Wharton had returned.

  It was Frank who came back first. Everything had gone satisfactorily with Harper, he said, but certain modifications were necessary in the plan. To keep his mouth shut for another twenty-four hours at the Lapwings might be too great a strain on him, and so he was taking him to town that evening. Harper was giving out that he was going up to town to have a confidential interview with a member of the Boxing Board of Control.