Poison For the Toff

by John Creasey

  Undoubtedly, thought Rollison, it was good to see them all. Now and again he caught Aunt Gloria’s eye, and winked, to show her that she was forgiven.

  ‘Oh, Rolly, darling!’ A voice at his side made him turn round. He looked into the pretty face of Mary Henderson, a girl in the early twenties, whom he knew had recently been in the WAAF. Her fair hair was a little untidy, and she was eating ice-cream. ‘It’s a perfectly wizard party! Isn’t it, Tips?’

  ‘Tips’ was a somewhat forlorn looking young man, who was caught with his mouth full.

  ‘Oh, sure,’ he said at last.

  ‘And all these gorgeous things, what are they?’ asked Mary, pointing her spoon at a small object inside a case which rested on brackets in the wall. ‘I mean, what is in that wizard little glass tube?’

  There were many other seemingly unrelated things hanging beside it. For that particular wall was the repository of souvenirs of his criminal cases. There were odd-shaped knives, small revolvers and guns, a clerical collar – that had been presented to him by Ronald Kemp – and a great variety of oddments, all of which held a particular interest for him. Rarely however could he be persuaded to talk of them.

  ‘That’s a white powder,’ he said briefly.

  ‘Of course, twit, I can see that,’ said Mary, ‘but what is the white powder? Rolly! It isn’t poison, is it? You wouldn’t have anything dangerous hanging on the wall, would you?’

  Without waiting for a reply, she seized Tip’s hand and they forged a way, laughing, through the crowd.

  Grice came across, and stood looking at the collection. He was smiling faintly, and Rollison watched him and waited for his comment.

  ‘I suppose you know that half of what you’ve got there should be in the Black Museum at Scotland Yard,’ remarked Grice at last. ‘What’s in the tube?’

  ‘White arsenic from the Jamieson case,’ said Rollison. ‘Don’t let it worry you, the cabinet is locked. Everything that could have been taken away surreptitiously has been removed. I don’t want to lose a lifetime’s collection. How’s crime?’

  ‘I’ve known it brisker,’ said Grice.

  ‘Quiet times for policemen,’ said Rollison, with a grin. ‘That’s a blow for Aunt Gloria. Do you know everyone present?’

  Grice laughed. ‘No. Do you?’

  ‘I’ve placed them all but three,’ said Rollison, looking about him. ‘The little fellow with the hooked nose, for instance, is a stranger, I’m sure I’ve never seen him before. Jolly can’t remember him, either, but he might be a relative’s fiancé. There’s the dark-haired woman, too, with the exotic manner and the flaming red dress. You know the one I mean?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Grice. ‘I was introduced to her.’

  ‘Do you remember the name?’

  ‘Morral,’ said Grice.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Rollison, ‘I vaguely remember there was a Morral marriage in the last year or two. My mother’s side,’ he added, absently. ‘And the other mystery guest is the man with the beard and the military manner.’

  ‘I’ve carefully evaded him,’ said Grice. ‘I saw the suffering faces of three people he had cornered, and I heard the word “India”, so—’

  ‘Isn’t he a dear, Rolly?’ asked Sheila Gregory, her red head appearing as if from nowhere, her husband in close attendance. ‘Your parson, I mean, I’d never realised that Church of England parsons could be so sweet.’ She looked at Rollison as if he were the only man worthy of attention, but her husband smiling behind her appeared to be supremely content. Rollison was surprised, for he had doubted the success of that marriage. ‘You do know who I mean, don’t you?’ asked Sheila. ‘The tall, handsome man, Hemp or Kent or something like that. Was he a criminal, too?’

  A majestic-looking woman who was bearing down on Rollison, stopped in her tracks and raised her lorgnette; she was one of Rollison’s aunts.

  ‘Why should you think the parson was a criminal?’ asked Grice, interestedly.

  ‘Oh, I thought everyone here was,’ said Sheila. ‘In some way or other, I mean.’

  The Aunt beckoned Rollison with great dignity.

  ‘Could you mean “criminologist”?’ suggested Gregory.

  ‘Isn’t “criminal” short for that?’ asked Sheila sweetly, and then pulled Rollison’s arm, making him bend down. ‘Rolly, darling, as soon as you’ve got live minutes to spare I want to speak to you, we’ve some thrilling news, haven’t we, Alec?’

  ‘Now look here—’ began Gregory.

  ‘Richard!’ called the Aunt, impatiently.

  ‘Please don’t forget,’ pleaded Sheila. ‘Alec, darling, do you think we could fight our way towards the buffet? I’m ravenous. Goodbye for a while Rolly, and don’t forget to spare us five minutes before the party’s over.’

  ‘Richard!’ boomed the Aunt.

  ‘I’ll keep everyone else away,’ murmured Grice.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Rollison, gratefully, and turned to the Aunt with an apologetic smile. ‘Hallo, Aunt Mattie, I’ve been trying—’

  ‘Is there a corner in this bear garden where we can talk quietly and sensibly for three minutes?’ demanded the Aunt, with an air of over-tried patience.

  ‘Quiet?’ asked Rollison doubtfully. ‘Well, there’s the bathroom. We might be lucky there.’

  ‘What about Jolly’s room?’

  ‘It’s being used for coats and there’s a fluctuating attendance,’ said Rollison, taking her arm. ‘It’s years since I saw you, Aunt Mattie. When did you start coming to London again?’

  ‘In June,’ said Aunt Mattie. ‘Richard, I must speak to you seriously.’ She led the way to the bathroom, and as they reached the door a slim girl with heavy make-up came out. She winked as if in sympathy with Rollison. The Aunt glared at her, and then swept into the room, closed the door, and stood with her back against it.

  ‘Richard, what is that woman doing here?’

  ‘What woman?’ demanded Rollison, puzzled.

  ‘You know very well whom I mean. That—’

  ‘You can’t mean Sheila,’ said Rollison, with a laugh. ‘She is quite harmless, and nothing like the fool she looks. The red- haired girl. She runs a poultry farm.’

  ‘I am not interested in the eccentricities of your friends,’ declared Aunt Mattie loftily. ‘I’m interested only in that woman.’

  ‘Not Sheila?’ murmured Rollison.

  He tried to hide his impatience and his dislike of his aunt, but it was not easy. She was thin-featured and acid-tongued, and she was a sworn enemy of his favourite aunt, Lady Gloria. Rollison imagined that Gloria had used the party for her own purposes, perhaps to extend an olive branch to her sister-in- law; if so, there was no evidence that the branch had been grasped.

  ‘Playing the fool ill becomes you,’ said Aunt Mattie, sharply. ‘You know very well I mean Derek’s wife. Though I can hardly bring myself to call her his wife.’

  ‘Derek’s wife?’ repeated Rollison blankly.

  ‘Oh, you’re impossible! I mean Katrina Morral.’

  ‘Katrina!’ exclaimed Rollison, and immediately he had a mental picture of the exotic-looking woman, and remembered that the family had been scandalised when Derek Morral, his cousin, had returned from three years in Moscow, where he had been acting as liaison officer, bringing with him an attractive but mysterious wife.

  ‘Well, why shouldn’t she be here?’ Rollison asked.

  ‘Richard!’

  ‘Now come and sit down on the side of the bath and tell me what’s worrying you,’ said Rollison, firmly. ‘If you stand there you will get a smack in the—er—back when the door opens, and it’s bound to open when someone wants to tidy up.’ He held Aunt Mattie’s hand, but she refused to be placated.

  ‘The woman has left him again,’ she said frostily.

  ‘Katrina le
ft Derek?’ asked Rollison, startled.

  ‘Do you mean to tell me that you did not know that she has twice run away from him?’

  ‘I’d no idea.’

  ‘That, I suppose, is an extenuating circumstance,’ conceded Aunt Mattie. ‘I felt sure that you would not have committed such a solecism as to invite her, had you known. However, she is here. I have deliberately avoided her, of course, but I find the position intolerable, and I shall leave at once. I am surprised that Gloria finds it possible to stay in the same room as the creature.’

  ‘Perhaps she hasn’t heard the shocking truth,’ murmured Rollison.

  ‘You cannot tell me that there is any piece of family gossip or scandal which your Aunt Gloria does not know,’ said Aunt Mattie, spitefully. ‘Well, that is the situation, Richard, and I am sure you do not need telling where your duty lies.’

  ‘Duty?’

  ‘Since Katrina had accepted an invitation from a member of the family, it would appear that she had repented her rash action,’ said Aunt Mattie. ‘You, as the senior male member of the family present, should ask her whether she intends to return to Derek and behave herself, or whether—’

  The door burst open.

  ‘Oh, hallo,’ said Sheila, brightly. ‘What are you two doing in here together?’ She shook a forefinger roguishly at Aunt Mattie. ‘Rolly, sweet, do disappear, I’ve broken a shoulder strap, and Jolly said I would find a needle and cotton in here. Or a pin. Do fly. And keep Alec away from that simply devastating Russian beauty, won’t you? Your Aunt Gloria has just introduced them, and I don’t think that any man would be safe with her for long. Bye-bye!’

  Aunt Mattie said: ‘Richard. You understand—’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Rollison, hastily. ‘I understand perfectly. Perfectly.’

  He shut the door behind him with a heady feeling of escape, and made his way back to his guests. He noticed Katrina’s brilliant red dress at once, and saw that she was talking to Alec Gregory, who looked somewhat ill-at-ease. Near them, Aunt Gloria was fanning herself. On her face was a look of great satisfaction. Rollison felt sure that she had had some ulterior motive in bringing Katrina here.

  Somewhere, Mary was saying: ‘Oh, absolutely wizard. You must come and see the arsenic, too. Rolly said it was only a harmless powder, but of course that’s only boloney. It’s over here.’ She now had two young men in tow, and crossed the room heedless of those in her path. They made way for her, indulgently.

  Rollison bore down on Aunt Gloria, and was near her when he was startled by a cry that was nearly a scream. Everyone stopped talking, staring, their mouths half open towards Mary.

  She was pointing at the wall, and into the dead silence she gasped: ‘It’s gone! The arsenic’s gone!’

  Chapter Three

  ‘Among Those Missing’

  Rollison looked across to the door leading to the hall. Jolly was already moving towards it, and from another direction the police sergeant, a man with a shock of yellow hair which stood almost straight up from his forehead, was also heading for the door. Jolly saw that, and immediately turned and made his way towards the kitchen, from which led the fire-escape.

  The girl who had taken over the ice-cream counter, a little brunette named Florence Hardy, stopped spooning out her wares.

  Rollison caught Grice’s eye.

  He was conscious of the tension, of the uneasiness, which was spreading through the room. People began to look oddly towards one another, some almost accusingly. Aunt Mattie, who had returned from the bathroom, was staring with unveiled malignance towards Katrina.

  A voice muttered: ‘Why doesn’t someone say something?’

  ‘Attention, everyone, please,’ called Rollison, and heads turned towards him with clock-like precision. ‘A little joke of Mary’s that has gone too far. Now do relax, all of you.’

  ‘Rolly!’ Mary’s cheeks became a flaming red.

  ‘If anything is missing, it will prove to be a practical joke that has misfired – or an accident,’ said Rollison, ‘and whoever has a tube of boracic acid won’t be able to do any harm with it.’

  ‘It was arsenic,’ insisted Mary hotly, ‘I heard him ask you, and you told a man it was a souvenir of the Jamieson case. Deny that, if you can!’

  ‘Charge denied,’ said Rollison, lying cheerfully. ‘Do stop looking as if we’ve been through an earthquake,’ he added. ‘There is plenty of liquor and victuals, and—’

  Out of the bathroom Sheila came running, gay of eye and clearly on top of the world. She darted across the room towards Alec Gregory and Katrina, and somehow her high spirits eased the tension. Couples began to talk, someone laughed, there was another descent upon the ice-cream, for the flat was now uncomfortably warm.

  Aunt Gloria, looking very pleased with life, waved her fan to and fro.

  Rollison and Grice went towards her. She glanced up with a bland smile.

  ‘Now see what you’ve done,’ said Rollison, half-amused, half-angry. ‘Hand over the poison tube, Glory, and don’t let’s play any more childish tricks.’

  ‘I haven’t moved from here for at least an hour,’ said Aunt Gloria placidly.

  ‘Maybe, but you’ve had a constant stream of admirers,’ said Rollison. ‘Which of them brought you the tube?’

  Aunt Gloria looked at Grice, and demanded: ‘Have you any influence over him, Superintendent? If so, can you get it into his obstinate head that I have had nothing to do with this mystery?’

  ‘You would find convincing me a hard job,’ said Rollison. ‘Seriously, Glory, this has gone beyond a joke. As a matter of fact, between you and me, it was arsenic.’

  ‘Then the indiscretion was yours. I can only assure you again that I did not touch the tube of arsenic,’ said Glory, firmly.

  Reluctantly, Rollison accepted her assurance.

  He was the more reluctant at the implication that someone in the room had deliberately stolen the tube. For there was enough arsenic in it to kill half-a-dozen people.

  Grice murmured: ‘I was half-afraid of something like this.’

  ‘Let us all be wise after the event,’ said Rollison, tartly. ‘Well, what’s been done? Jolly’s watching the fire-escape and Breem is at the front door, they’ll make sure that no one goes out until you’ve given instructions.’ He rubbed his chin, worriedly. ‘But we can’t search everyone who wants to go. There’s Aunt Mattie stalking towards the door already, so we need a plan of action, at once. First, we must find who’s among the missing.’ He was looking about the rooms, and one man’s absence was noticeable: the bearded man who had been boring people about India.

  The small man with the hooked nose had also disappeared.

  Aunt Gloria said sweetly: ‘The master minds don’t seem to be working very quickly.’

  ‘But they’re working,’ said Rollison, ‘and here’s a job for you, Glory, fit punishment for your sins. Sit in the hall, will you, and identify everyone who wants to leave. Protest if it’s someone of whom you’re doubtful, and Sergeant Breem – the man with the shock of fair hair – will take any necessary action. No argument,’ he added, firmly, ‘you started this, you know.’

  ‘Exactly what will happen if Breem tries to prevent anyone from leaving?’ demanded Aunt Gloria, mischievously.

  ‘All you have to worry about are the credentials of the people who suddenly want to leave,’ said Rollison.

  Grice had gone to speak to Jolly. Rollison joined them. No one had tried to leave by the fire-escape, Jolly told them, and he did not think it likely that anyone would try now. There was a slight possibility that someone had already gone out that way, because the back door had been left wide open, to let some fresh air into the flat.

  ‘What now?’ Rollison asked Grice.

  ‘We haven’t examined the glass case where the arsenic was kept,’ said Grice.

/>   ‘Mary could have made a mistake,’ mused Rollison, ‘but I don’t think that’s very likely.’ He looked rueful. ‘I shall have to apologise for being so caustic at her expense, too, she’s probably livid with me.’ He shrugged his shoulders, and made his way with Grice towards the collection of souvenirs.

  A quick examination of the case in which the tube of arsenic had been kept made what had happened clear enough. The glass had been broken, and it was hardly surprising that, in the babble, no one had heard it. The glass was thin, and a quick, sharp blow had doubtless been enough to smash it.

  Grice said: ‘I suppose someone could have put their elbow through it by accident.’

  ‘Then where’s the tube?’ said Rollison. He looked down at the floor, but there was nothing to be seen, no trace of white powder, not even broken glass; the pieces were all inside the case. ‘Wilful damage,’ he declared, ‘we must check up on who’s gone home lately.’

  It was surprising how many people wanted to leave then and there. The spirit had gone out of the party, and even Sheila could not revive it for long. Ronald Kemp was talking animatedly to a little group of people, and Rollison heard the word ‘arsenic’ repeated over and over again.

  The two police inspectors went into the hall to help Breem and Aunt Gloria. Four or five other people were waiting there, impatient and a little annoyed at not being allowed to leave without a fuss. Two were women, three were men.

  Rollison stopped in the doorway, and said: ‘I’ll have to leave this to you, old man.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Grice, drily. ‘I can handle the men, but as for the women—’

  ‘That is a task for Aunt Glory,’ declared Rollison.

  He felt ill-at-ease about the whole business. Friends and acquaintances would have to submit to being searched, and there were bound to be some who would resent it. He wondered whether Glory was doing her job thoroughly, and, after a quarter of an hour, peeped into the hall. Gloria had enlisted the help of Sheila and Ronald Kemp’s wife, and all, apparently, was well. Rollison gave a sigh of relief; but it was not to last for long. Turning, he found Mary barring his way.