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The Crimson Ramblers

Page 12

by Gerald Verner


  ‘I’d soon do something if I had that packet,’ said Renton.

  ‘You talk a lot,’ said Granger. ‘I’d like to know just what you could do.’

  ‘Legally it belongs to this girl — Jill Manners, doesn’t it?’ said Renton.

  ‘Yes, and the police know it,’ said Hargreaves. ‘That’s the whole trouble.’

  ‘The police, the police!’ mocked Renton. ‘What are you — a lot of frightened kids?’

  Granger made a gesture of irritation, ‘It’s no good being stupid about it, Renton,’ he said. ‘We’re just as much upset over the thing as you are. But the plain truth is we none of us stand an earthly chance of claiming that uranium. Not now.’

  ‘It was totally different before,’ said Hargreaves, ‘when nobody knew that Manners had left it to his daughter.’ ‘What difference does that make?’ demanded Renton.

  Hargreaves stared at him.

  ‘You’re mad!’ he snapped.

  ‘Am I?’ retorted Renton. ‘I’m saner than the rest of you. I don’t intend to give up a fortune just because someone gets up and says ‘boo’.’

  ‘All right, all right,’ said Granger. ‘Let’s hear what you propose to do about it? Tell us about this wonderful plan you’ve got.’

  ‘You tell me something first,’ said Renton. ‘Suppose that girl made a will leaving everything to you. What happens then?’

  Granger laughed.

  ‘Nothing. Not while she...’ He stopped abruptly.

  ‘Not while she’s alive. That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it?’

  ‘I know what’s in your mind,’ Hargreaves interrupted quickly. ‘I’ll have no part in it.’

  ‘Oh, do stop talking like the village preacher,’ cried Renton angrily. ‘I’ve never come across such a lot of mealy-mouthed...’

  ‘I’ve no wish to swing at the end of a rope,’ snapped Hargreaves. ‘You can please yourself, but I’m having nothing to do with it.’

  ‘We’d never get away with it, Renton,’ said Granger. ‘We’d be suspected at once. A child could see that.’

  ‘Not,’ said Renton slowly, ‘if it was an accident...’

  He looked from one to the other of them meaningfully.

  ‘Do you think the police would swallow that, you fool, after what’s happened?’ Granger uttered a short laugh that was like a bark. ‘They’d be on to it in a second. They’re not idiots.’

  ‘So long as they couldn’t prove anything,’ said Renton coolly, ‘it wouldn’t matter what they suspected, would it?’

  Granger frowned. He walked over to the window and stared out into the garden. After a moment he turned.

  ‘It’s far too risky,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Besides, we’d never get Jill to make a will...’

  ‘You don’t have to tell her what it is, do you?’ demanded Renton. ‘Surely you’re smart enough to get her to sign something without her knowing what she’s signing? You can fill in all the rest — after you’ve got her signature...’

  ‘You’re not seriously considering this suggestion of Renton’s, are you, Granger?’ said Hargreaves. ‘You must be mad.’

  ‘You shut up,’ said Renton. ‘I’m doing the talking now.’

  ‘I’ll have no part in it, I tell you,’ said Hargreaves.

  ‘Very well, stay out then,’ snarled Renton. ‘There’ll be all the more for me and Granger.’

  ‘You’re welcome to the lot, my friend, if you can get it,’ said Granger with an unpleasant smile. ‘I’m not having anything to do with it either.’

  An ugly expression came into Renton’s face.

  ‘You’ve got no guts, either of you,’ he cried disgustedly.

  ‘You’ve plenty — that’s what you appear to be thinking with,’ retorted Granger. ‘Have some sense, Renton. If there was any safe and workable scheme by which we could get hold of this fortune, I’d be only too pleased to find it. But there isn’t...’

  ‘I’ve shown you how we can still cash in on this business,’ said Renton obstinately.

  ‘You’ve only shown us how we’d end up on the gallows,’ said Hargreaves. ‘Forget it.’

  ‘There must be a way,’ said Renton. ‘There must. Why don’t you try and think up something? I’ll bet Beatal does.’

  ‘Beatal’s given it up,’ said Granger.

  Renton laughed.

  ‘If you believe that you’ll believe anything,’ he said derisively. ‘He’s got some scheme up his sleeve, don’t you kid yourselves.’

  ‘Beatal’s helpless. There’s nothing he can do,’ declared Hargreaves confidently.

  But there he underestimated Simon Beatal’s cunning.

  *

  The little group in the stage door passage at the Dome Pavilion were growing a trifle restive. The time was getting on and they had received no intimation from Superintendent Halliday that they could go.

  Billy Dale had been in the dressing room where Halliday was holding the investigation for what seemed hours, a fact that made them uneasy.

  ‘Billy’s in there a long time, isn’t he?’ muttered Vera. She was looking anxious and strained.

  ‘I wonder why they sent for him?’ said Beryl.

  ‘I expect they want to question each of us in turn,’ said Andy.

  ‘But they’ve already done that,’ said Vera. ‘Why do we have to go through it all again?’

  ‘They’ve their own methods, I’ve no doubt,’ said Andy. ‘It’s no good getting upset. Ye’ll just have to grin and bear it.’

  ‘It’ll be time for the matinée soon,’ grumbled Vera. ‘And we’ve had nothing to eat.’

  ‘Ye’ll just have to make do with a sandwich,’ said Andy.

  ‘I always thought there was something queer about that man, Gilbert,’ she snapped viciously, ‘and now look what he’s let us in for?’

  ‘Aye, I’ve no doubt he got himself strangled just to spite us,’ said Andy.

  The stage door opened and Sharon came in quickly. Her face showed that she had heard what had happened.

  ‘I say,’ she greeted them, ‘isn’t this shocking — about Howard Gilbert. The policeman’s just told me outside. He wouldn’t let me come in until I told him I was one of the concert party. What’s happening now?’

  ‘The police think one of us did it,’ said Vera.

  Sharon looked at her in horrified astonishment.

  ‘Oh, no!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘They’re questioning Billy now,’ said Beryl.

  ‘Billy — what does he know about it?’

  ‘No more than the rest of us,’ said Tony. ‘Its just a matter of routine, I think.’

  She ignored him, deliberately turning her back.

  ‘What are you going to do about Gilbert’s numbers?’ she asked Andy. He shrugged his shoulders

  ‘We’ll have to rearrange the programme,’ he said. ‘You can do an extra number and I’ll put in the comedy trio with Tony and Vera we were rehearsing this morning.’

  ‘I can’t understand all this,’ said Sharon wrinkling her forehead. ‘Why should anyone want to kill Gilbert?’

  ‘His name wasn’t Gilbert. It was John Howard,’ said Vera. ‘He was a detective.’ Sharon’s eyes opened wide.

  ‘A detective,’ she exclaimed. ‘What was he doing here?’

  Before anyone could answer her, the door of Gilbert’s dressing room opened and Billy came out. He was looking a little strained and wan.

  ‘Will you go in, Andy?’ he said.

  Andy nodded and went in. The door closed behind him Billy wiped his face with his handkerchief.

  ‘Phew!’ he said thankfully, ‘I’m glad that’s over. They want to see you, Tony, after Andy, but the rest of us can go.’

  ‘Thank heaven for that,’ said Vera. ‘Who’s coming for something to eat?’

  ‘I’ll wait for Andy,’ said Beryl.

  Sharon, Vera and Billy went off together leaving Tony and Beryl alone.

  ‘Beryl,’ said Tony rather hesitantly, ‘I — I wish yo
u’d do me a favour.’

  ‘Of course, dear,’ she said, ‘if I can. What is it?’

  ‘It’s about Sharon...’

  ‘Sharon?’

  ‘She’s — she’s got the needle...’ ‘With you?’

  Tony nodded.

  ‘Yes...’ He found it difficult to put it into words. ‘You see, I’d promised to meet her for tea the other afternoon and — and I didn’t. I took Vera instead...’

  ‘Well, I’m not surprised Sharon was cross,’ said Beryl. ‘I should have been livid.’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ explained Tony hastily. ‘I didn’t do it on purpose … At least, not for the reason Sharon thinks. I wanted to find out something from Vera. It was to do with the packet...’

  ‘Well, why don’t you explain to her?’ said Beryl.

  ‘She won’t let me,’ said Tony. ‘She’s gone all upstage... I thought perhaps... if you would...’

  ‘Do a little interceding for you?’ She helped him out as he floundered badly.

  ‘Yes, she won’t freeze you up,’ he said.

  ‘I’ll do my best, dear,’ said Beryl kindly.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said fervently. ‘You’re a good sort, Beryl.’

  She sighed a little sadly.

  ‘I wish you’d tell Andy that,’ she said.

  Andy was a long time with Halliday but he reappeared at last and intimated that Tony was to go in.

  ‘He’s a wee bit riled that we didna tell him about finding her in the basket,’ he whispered.

  ‘How did he know about it?’ asked Tony.

  ‘Billy,’ said Andy. ‘Go on, go and get it over.’

  ‘Andy,’ said Beryl as Tony left them, ‘let’s go and have some coffee.’

  Andy was so shaken that morning that he scarcely knew what he was saying.

  ‘Aye, I could do with a cup,’ he said to Beryl’s amazed delight.

  She seized him by the arm before he could change his mind and whisked him out of the stage door.

  ‘I’ll just pop into the box office first,’ he said as they came round the front of the Dome but Beryl tightened her grip on his arm.

  ‘You’ll do nothing of the kind,’ she said grimly. ‘You’ll have the coffee first.’

  And Andy meekly obeyed.

  *

  Superintendent Halliday came into his office and sank into his chair behind the desk. He had had very little sleep on the previous night and it was now late in the afternoon. There was a report on his desk and he glanced at it idly.

  ‘Well, Soames,’ he said to the Sergeant who had followed him in, ‘we’ve got two murders now instead of one, and we’re no nearer putting our hand on the murderer than we were before.’

  ‘We know a good deal more about it though, sir,’ said Soames.

  ‘Maybe we do,’ agreed Halliday rubbing his forehead, ‘but it doesn’t tell us who out of this bunch is the strangler.’

  ‘It must have been one of the concert party people, sir,’ said the Sergeant.

  ‘Which one?’

  ‘Well, sir, I’d say it was Dale.’

  ‘He seems the most likely there isn’t any evidence.’

  ‘He was the original reason Howard joined the concert party, sir,’ said Soames.

  ‘He was trying to find a lead — anything that would put him on to this uranium business,’ said Halliday. ‘He knew that Dale was Jim Lester’s brother so he tried that. There’s nothing to show that he discovered anything against him. On the contrary, according to Chives, as soon as he learned about Beatal and Granger he transferred his attention to them.’

  ‘He might have found something out that made him switch it back again to Dale, sir.’

  ‘He might equally well have found something that switched it to someone else,’ said Halliday a trifle irritably. ‘It’s all ‘might’. There’s nothing solid. There’s only one thing we can be certain of — that this uranium discovery of David Manners is at the bottom of everything.’

  ‘Chives knew all about that, sir,’ said Soames.

  ‘Chives!’ Halliday looked up at him sharply.

  ‘What are you getting at, Soames?’

  ‘I was just wondering, sir,’ said the Sergeant, ‘if perhaps Chives might know a lot more than he’s said.’

  ‘It’s an idea, Soames,’ said Halliday. He lay back in his chair frowning and tapping his fingers nervously on the desk. ‘Chives? Um. We’ve only his word that those packets were dummies. The one he stole from Vera Lee’s lodgings might have been the real thing.’

  ‘And then he would have had to get rid of Howard, sir, if he’d wanted to keep it for himself,’ said Soames.

  ‘By jove, you may be on to something,’ said Halliday. ‘I must say I never thought of Chives but, of course, when you come to look at it, he stands out. He knew all about the whole thing from the beginning. If he’d decided to grab the uranium for himself... Um, maybe Granger was speaking the truth when he swore that the packet he’d given to the Lee girl was genuine... I wish we could do something about that bunch, Soames, but the trouble is we can’t. Except Beatal. We could have him for moving that woman’s body but what good would that do? It’d only be a minor charge and we’re after bigger fish.’

  ‘Chives helped him move the woman, sir,’ said the Sergeant.

  ‘Chives again, eh?’ Halliday frowned thoughtfully. ‘Howard was knocked unconscious before he was strangled,’ he touched the report on his desk. ‘This is the doctor’s report. That would make it easier, you see.’

  ‘Howard was sitting down when he was killed,’ said Soames. ‘He must’ve been taken by surprise or he’d have got up...’

  ‘Meaning he didn’t suspect the person who came in,’ said Halliday.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said Soames.

  They looked at each other.

  ‘He wouldn’t have suspected Chives, said Halliday. ‘Yes — I think we must pay more attention to Chives — but there’s no evidence, you know, no evidence at all...’

  16

  Andy came into the dressing room to change after the matinée and his face was worried.

  ‘What’s the matter, Andy?’ asked Tony. ‘Bad house? It looked pretty good to me.’

  ‘Aye, there was nothing the matter with the house,’ said Andy. ‘It’s the show. It’s going to pieces. Vera dried up in the middle of her number and Billy started playing the wrong introduction for Sharon. If it had no been for Beryl keeping her head there’d have been a terrible mix-up. I don’t know what’s the matter with everybody.’

  ‘It’s not difficult to guess, is it?’ asked Tony.

  ‘Ye mean all this trouble?’ asked Andy.

  Tony nodded.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It’s nerves, that’s all...’

  ‘They shouldna let it affect the show,’ said Andy.

  ‘You’re a bit dithery yourself,’ said Tony eyeing him critically. ‘Now, admit it?’ ‘Aye, I am. But I don’t let it interfere with my work.’

  ‘Have you heard anything more from Halliday?’

  ‘No, and I dinna want to,’ said Andy. ‘I’m fed up with all of it. I’ve got to get someone down from London to take Gilbert’s place and that’ll mean more rehearsals and a whole lot of work just when things were beginning to settle down nicely.’

  Billy came in quickly.

  ‘I say, Andy,’ he said apologetically. ‘I’m terribly sorry about this afternoon...’ ‘Aye, what happened to ye?’ said Andy. ‘You ought to know what Sharon’s singing by now...’

  ‘I know, I’ve got absolutely no excuse at all,’ said Billy contritely. ‘It’s just that all this business is getting me down.’

  ‘It’s getting us all down,’ said Tony. ‘Why did you have to tell Halliday about the girl in the basket?’

  ‘I’m sorry about that,’ said Billy. ‘I couldn’t help it. It just slipped out before I’d realised what I’d said.’

  He began rapidly to take off his make-up.

  ‘I wonder what the police really think,’ he
said.

  ‘Aye, I’d like to know that myself,’ said Andy. ‘If only that wretched girl hadn’t thrown that packet into our compartment.’

  ‘Yes, that’s what started the trouble,’ agreed Billy.

  ‘Did it?’ said Tony. ‘I wonder. Gilbert or Howard was here before that wasn’t he?’

  ‘He was here because of me,’ said Billy.

  They stared at him.

  ‘Because of you?’ said Andy. ‘What do you mean?’

  Billy explained and they listened with interest.

  ‘I knew nothing about the packet or what it contained or anything about the wretched business, but, of course, it looked bad to Halliday,’ he ended.

  ‘So that’s the secret of the packet, is it?’ said Andy. ‘Uranium, eh?’

  Tony whistled.

  ‘No wonder all these people were so anxious to get it,’ he exclaimed. ‘Why, the value must be fabulous...’

  ‘And it all belongs to the red-haired girl on the train,’ said Billy. ‘You know,’ he added with a touch of his old humour, ‘I knew I ought to have got acquainted with her. Something told me she was the girl I’ve always been looking for. Slim, beautiful, attractive — and with oodles of uranium thrown in. I could settle up with a girl like that and my creditors would live happily ever after.’

  ‘In the meanwhile,’ said Andy practically, ‘ye’d better pay attention to your job. Ye know, I’m more than a wee bit worried.’

  ‘I’ll be all right, Andy,’ said Billy. ‘I won’t make any more bloomers in the show.’

  ‘It wasna the show I was thinking of then,’ said Andy seriously. ‘I was thinking about this business of that poor girl and Gilbert.’

  ‘What were you thinking?’ asked Tony.

  ‘Somebody killed them,’ said Andy. ‘I’m thinking I’ll be happier when we know who it was.’

  He didn’t explain why but Tony guessed.

  Andy was afraid that it might turn out to be someone they knew. Someone in the concert party.

  ‘You know,’ said Billy, washing his hands in the basin, Tve always been hoping for some sort of excitement like you read about in books. Do you know the kind I mean? Some glamorous female, all willowy and seductive, sidles up to you, breathing a rare perfume, and whispers: ‘Tonight at twelve. The postern gate. Black Domino’. Something of that sort. The nearest I ever got to it was my landlady’s daughter at Wigan and she’d been eating onions.’

 

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