Terror by Gaslight

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Terror by Gaslight Page 9

by Edward Taylor


  ‘Well, I tell you, Miss Clare, I’m frightened.’

  Clare sought to reassure her. ‘You need not be. Should this visit ever come to light, which is very unlikely, I shall make it known that you were out shopping and knew nothing of it. Now the tea, please, Mrs Butters.’

  ‘Very well, miss. I pray you don’t have cause to regret this.’ Shaking her head, the housekeeper left the room and closed the door behind her.

  Now Harriet looked up. ‘Clare, why are you so keen to help these detectives?’

  ‘You have it the wrong way round, sister. It is not a question of us helping them, but of them helping us.’

  ‘Helping us? By catching the Maniac, you mean, and making the Heath safe again?’

  ‘That, of course. But we have a more personal need. I truly believe that our father has wicked plans affecting our future. Especially yours, Harriet. I think he may already be embezzling money which should come to you.’

  Her younger sister was appalled. ‘Oh, Clare, surely not!’

  ‘We shall see. We’ve been given the heaven-sent opportunity to have two professional detectives look into the matter. We must make the most of it.’

  ‘You are wrong about our father, Clare. He is strict and bad-tempered but I believe he has our welfare at heart.’

  ‘If you believe that, dear sister, you must also believe that the earth is flat.’ Clare went to the door, opened it, and paused. ‘I’ve found some items relating to my mother that Major Steele wishes to see. I must fetch them from my room. If the gentlemen arrive before I return, please receive them well. They are our friends.’ And with that she left, closing the door behind her.

  Harriet tried to resume her needlework but her mind was too troubled. She put down the silk and went to the window, half excited, half fearful, at the thought of what might meet her eyes. But this time there was nothing to see in the gloom, except a tall man walking an Alsatian dog. The man carried a heavy stick, as walkers did on the Heath these days.

  As she surveyed the darkening scene, Harriet heard a knock at the front door, and then male voices mingled with that of Mrs Butters.

  Moments later, the drawing-room door opened, and the housekeeper ushered in the two expected guests, unexpectedly dressed in expansive blue overalls and large boots. John Mason carried a toolbag. This unwelcome duty completed, Mrs Butters withdrew, still shaking her head.

  Somewhat startled, Harriet nevertheless recalled Clare’s words and greeted the newcomers pleasantly, if a little uncertainly. ‘Good afternoon, gentlemen. It is Major Steele and … er … your colleague, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is, Miss Austin. Please forgive this attire. I thought our arrival might attract less attention if we looked like workmen, here to do a job. Mind where you put that bag down, Jack. We don’t want the ladies tripping over it.’

  ‘You look very convincing, I must say,’ ventured Harriet.

  ‘Thank you, miss,’ said Mason. ‘I think you’re right. A lady in the street asked us to come and repair her pipes.’

  ‘Alas,’ said Steele, who seemed to be in good humour, ‘we had to say we were too busy. It would have made a pleasant change from poring over documents.’

  ‘No doubt,’ said Harriet brightly. ‘My sister will be here shortly, gentlemen.’ And then she added what she felt she needed to say. ‘Major Steele, I must make it clear that your business here is with Miss Clare. I fear I cannot be of any assistance in your inquiries.’

  ‘That is understood, Miss Austin. However, you could do us, and yourself, one small service without becoming involved.’

  Harriet could not help being intrigued. ‘A service? Of what kind?’

  ‘I should like you to ask your father one small innocent question, which cannot give offence. Your sister could convey the answer to us.’

  ‘Then could not she be the one to ask Father the question?’

  ‘They are not on good terms, I think. I doubt if he would give her the courtesy of a reply.’

  Harriet acknowledged her error. ‘You are right, of course. It is a very sad situation.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Well, Major, what is this question? Will my father suspect it comes from you?’

  ‘Not at all. It is a very natural question between father and daughter. You can ask it as if it had just come into your head.’

  ‘Please tell me what the question is.’

  ‘You know that many local people bathe in Highgate Ponds in the summer?’

  ‘Yes. Dr Frankel recommends it as good exercise.’

  ‘Excellent. That will make it easier for you. I want you to tell your father you’d like to take up swimming. Ask him if he will escort you to the ponds. Ask if he could help if you got into trouble. In short, Miss Austin, I want to know if your father can swim.’

  ‘How strange.’ For a rare moment, Harriet was almost amused. ‘Well, that seems harmless enough. I will ask him when I have the opportunity, and give the answer to Clare.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Steele, and then the door was pushed open and Mrs Butters brought in a tray bearing tea things and a plate of biscuits.

  ‘Miss Clare asked me to make tea for the guests,’ she said, putting the tray down on a table. ‘I’m sorry, there’s no cake.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Butters,’ said Harriet. ‘I’m sure biscuits will be fine. Will you serve the tea, please? My sister is fetching some things from her room.’

  ‘Very good, miss,’ said the housekeeper. She addressed the major with a mixture of respect and nervousness. ‘How do you take your tea, sir?’

  ‘Strong, please. No milk or sugar.’

  As the woman served him, Steele glanced at the ornamental daggers on the wall. Both were now spotlessly clean and shining, and perfectly aligned.

  Mrs Butters turned to Mason. ‘What about you, sir?’

  ‘Milk and sugar for me, please,’ said Mason. And then, assessing the size of the cups, he added, ‘Two lumps, please.’

  ‘Help yourselves to biscuits, gentlemen,’ said Harriet, rising to her feet. ‘And now I’ll ask you to excuse me. I have been out on the Heath this afternoon. I feel in need of a rest.’

  ‘Very wise,’ said Steele. ‘Thank you for your co-operation.’

  The young woman’s response was polite but firm; she was conscious of the housekeeper’s presence. ‘I have not co-operated, Major. Please remember that, officially, I have no knowledge of your visit. You have come to see my sister.’

  Steele made a slight bow. ‘Of course, Miss Austin. We thank you nevertheless.’

  Harriet moved to the door and Mason opened it for her. ‘Thank you,’ she said, and was gone. Mason closed the door behind her and then returned to his teacup. He took a Bourbon biscuit.

  Major Steele turned a warm smile on the hesitant housekeeper. ‘An excellent cup of tea,’ he remarked.

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘Clearly you always warm the pot.’

  ‘That I do, sir,’ said the housekeeper, with some pride. ‘And I take the pot to the kettle, not the kettle to the pot.’

  ‘Ah. A commendable policy,’ purred the major, before turning to more serious matters. ‘Mrs Butters, I have heard from Miss Clare that your master punished you for letting us in the other day.’

  ‘He did, sir, and no mistake. Three weeks’ wages he docked me! And me saving for a winter coat. Now I’ll be too late for the sales.’

  Steele produced some coins from his waistcoat pocket. ‘I should not wish to be the cause of that disaster, Mrs Butters. Perhaps you would be good enough to accept some compensation.’ He held out the coins, and Mrs Butters took them with a gasp.

  ‘Oh! Sir! Three sovereigns! That’s far more than I lost, sir!’

  ‘But I’ve no doubt you also suffered some unpleasantness. And, furthermore, I hope you may be able to give us some slight assistance from time to time in the future.’

  This aroused considerable alarm. ‘Oh! I don’t know about that, sir. I don’t know if I dare.’

  ‘You will not be
put in peril again, never fear. I merely ask that if you notice anything unusual in this house, or indeed in the neighbourhood, you will tell us on one of our visits.’ Steele took further coins from his pocket, inspected them, and put them back again. ‘There are more sovereigns where those came from.’

  Mrs Butters lost some of her hesitancy. ‘Well, sir … if I could be sure the master would never hear of it …’

  ‘You have my word on that.’

  ‘Well … as it happens, I did come across something odd the other day. I was already wondering if I should tell you about it.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Butters, you should. It will be kept entirely confidential.’

  ‘Well, sir … of course, it may not be of any importance …’

  ‘Let me be the judge of that. Please tell us what you came across.’

  ‘Well, sir …’

  As Mrs Butters sought the right words, the door opened and Clare came in, carrying a large envelope and a small book.

  ‘Ah, Major Steele,’ she said, in a businesslike manner. ‘And Mr Mason. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to receive you.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Miss Austin. We have been well looked after.’

  ‘I’ve found the souvenirs you wanted.’ She handed the items to Steele. ‘The newspaper reports are in this envelope. And here is my mother’s diary for the last year of her life.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Austin. We shall guard these most carefully, and return them as soon as possible.’

  Clare turned to the housekeeper. ‘Thank you, Mrs Butters. I’ll take charge of the tea now.’

  ‘Very good, miss,’ said the housekeeper, turning to go.

  Steele held up a hand. ‘One moment, please. Mrs Butters has something to tell us.’

  ‘Oh, never mind that now, sir. That can wait for another time. I must go and start on the vegetables for dinner.’ She was on the move before Steele could protest further. Clare took up the conversation as the door closed behind her.

  ‘The diary is mainly full of trivia, I’m afraid, and there are several gaps. But there may be something of interest.’

  ‘Anything that sheds light on events of that time will be useful,’ said Steele. ‘The boating accident is one of our main lines of inquiry.’

  ‘Have you any news for me, Major?’

  ‘Yes, I think we have. We asked our contact at Scotland Yard to look at police records relating to the incident. His report is sad but interesting.’

  Mason was concerned. ‘Maybe you should sit down, Miss Austin.’

  ‘Yes … yes. Perhaps we should all be seated. What have you learned, Major?’

  ‘The police were extremely concerned about your mother’s death. But the boat was in a secluded reach of the Thames, and there seemed to be no witnesses.’

  ‘That much I learned from the inquest report.’

  ‘Your father testified that your mother insisted on attempting to punt. He said she unbalanced and fell overboard when she took the pole from him. Strangely, she didn’t try to save herself by clinging to the side of the punt. Mr Austin claimed that was because the current took the boat away from her. He couldn’t steer it back because the pole had fallen in and drifted away.’

  Clare spoke contemptuously. ‘An extraordinary chain of circumstances.’

  Steele continued his account. ‘Your father said he didn’t dive in after her because he couldn’t swim. The police were unable to disprove that.’

  ‘Alas, neither can I,’ said Clare. ‘The question has never arisen.’

  ‘We hope your sister may elicit that information. If so, she will pass it on to you to give to us.’

  Clare raised her eyebrows. ‘Harriet is willing to help?’

  ‘In that one small way only. We must not ask for more.’ Steele concluded his narrative. ‘Your father said he thought it better to stay on the punt and shout for help. Unfortunately, by the time that arrived it was too late.’

  There was a pause, while Clare sadly considered what she’d just been told. Then she observed, ‘It doesn’t seem to have been a very thorough investigation.’

  ‘Our contact, Chief Inspector Willoughby, was not involved at the time, of course. He has been consulting an older colleague. It appears that the police considered bringing a charge of culpable homicide against your father. But it was felt at the time that there was insufficient evidence to pursue it.’

  Clare sighed. ‘A pity. And was that the end of the matter, as far as the police were concerned?’

  ‘It was, Miss Austin. But no longer. Inspector Willoughby is having the case reopened at our request. And it now appears there may have been a witness after all.’

  Clare was animated. ‘A witness? Why did that person not come forward at the time?’

  ‘For the understandable reason that he might have been prosecuted himself. My colleague has the details.’

  Mason consulted his notebook. ‘It seems that a local character named Dan Croucher habitually fished on that stretch of river without a licence. Poaching, in fact. He was seen there early on the day in question. After the accident he made himself scarce for a while. But it’s thought he’s still alive and the police will now try to trace him.’ He closed his notebook. ‘And that is how things stand at present.’

  Clare sighed. ‘Well … it seems my thoughts may be confirmed. Have you been able to discover anything about my father’s business affairs?’

  ‘We have,’ Steele responded. ‘And, there again, it seems your suspicions may be justified. We were fortunate in finding that your father’s solicitor is one Cedric Jamieson, who is well known to us. A man of very few scruples.’

  ‘About the most devious rogue in the legal profession,’ said Mason, with relish.

  ‘Which is a remarkable accolade, considering the competition,’ Steele observed.

  ‘As slippery as a barrel of eels,’ Mason added, apparently feeling the denigration needed more emphasis.

  ‘And this is my father’s solicitor? Well, I cannot say I’m surprised.’

  ‘However,’ said Steele, ‘in present circumstances, Mr Jamieson’s dubious record has worked in our favour. By reminding him that we know certain things to his discredit we persuaded him to assist us. We now know a great deal about Meredith Austin’s affairs.’

  ‘Well done, gentlemen. Please tell me.’

  ‘Your mother’s will was as you surmised. Her money went to your father, and was indeed used to found his business. And it was a condition of the will that he provide you with a home and an income until you marry.’

  ‘Which is why he has always regarded me as a burden.’ Clare’s voice was bitter.

  ‘His second wife was more cautious. On absconding, she put a large sum in trust for her daughter. Mr Austin must use it for Harriet’s benefit only. When she marries, or reaches the age of twenty-one, the money becomes hers.’

  ‘Which is why the wretched man drives away her suitors.’

  ‘A plausible theory, but not one that can be proved, of course.’

  ‘No doubt he would retain the money if Harriet died, or were certified insane?’

  ‘That would be the expected outcome, yes. But neither of those tragedies is likely, I think.’

  ‘You would not think that, if you knew my father as I do.’

  ‘Let us not get carried away, Miss Austin. Thus far, we’ve uncovered no evidence of illegality. However, Mr Mason and I have both come to distrust the man as much as you do.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear that, Major. Is there anything to be done about the situation?’

  ‘We are still checking papers to see if he’s used trust money for his own ends. And our legal adviser is seeing if the trust can be broken, and the money passed straight to Harriet.’

  ‘Alas,’ said Clare, ‘I fear she would scarcely know what to do with it.’

  ‘That’s a bridge we can cross when we come to it. We also have an expert looking at Mr Austin’s business dealings. There may be things to uncover there.’

  ‘You are very
thorough, Major. We are lucky to have you acting on our behalf.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Austin. At the risk of sounding pompous, I must say that Mr Mason and I both have a hatred of villainy and a compulsion to try and thwart wickedness whenever we suspect it.’

  ‘Also,’ said Mason, slightly embarrassed, ‘we are being well paid to catch the Heath Maniac.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Steele. ‘And we must now turn our attention to the matter that brought us here in the first place.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Clare. ‘I have told you I should like to help in any way I can. Is there any progress in that area?’

  ‘The police have recruited an expert from the United States. A … what does he call himself?’ He turned to Mason.

  ‘A criminologist.’

  ‘Ah yes. Our American friends are always surprising us with new ologies. Apparently, this Professor Kane helped to catch the Chicago Axe Murderer. When there’s a spate of killings, he claims he can build up a picture of the assassin. A brilliant man, according to Scotland Yard.’

  ‘Has he produced a result?’

  ‘No, he hasn’t arrived yet. It seems he missed his boat in New York. In the meantime we get on with our more down-to-earth inquiries. We think we may have a lead to Luke Scully.’

  As before, Steele thought he detected a slight nervous reaction in the young woman at the mention of this man. But it was gone in an instant. ‘Scully?’ said Clare. ‘Oh yes, our former gardener. You were asking me about him.’

  ‘We’re very interested in Scully.’

  ‘Well, you’ll be pleased to hear I’ve remembered something else about him. I believe at one time he’d been on the stage.’

  ‘Ah!’ exclaimed Steele triumphantly. ‘Just so! And that is our lead. Tell Miss Austin, Jack.’

  ‘I’ve been asking round the alehouses. And there’s a barman at the Flask who recalls Scully as part of a double act. On the halls. Charlie Challis and Luke Scully.’

  ‘We’ve discovered that Charlie Challis is still working,’ said Steele. ‘We’re hoping he may have kept in touch with his old partner.’

  ‘Can you find this man Challis?’

  ‘Very easily. He’s appearing this week at the Camden Alhambra. We shall go there tonight, to see if he can help us.’

 

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