Poison For the Toff

by John Creasey

  ‘Well, if I can’

  Rollison said, slowly: ‘It seems to me that one person who is still in acute danger is Katrina Morral. She has not been particularly helpful, and Grice once talked of detaining her for further questioning.’

  Merrick said, in some surprise: ‘Isn’t she your cousin?’

  ‘Cousin by marriage,’ said Rollison, ‘but what has that got to do with it?’

  ‘Oh, of course, nothing,’ said Merrick, hastily. ‘What do you suggest we do with her?’

  ‘Detain her for questioning, to find out (a) whether she knew Mary Henderson before she came to England,’ said Rollison, patiently, ‘and (b) where she went when she left her husband. She undoubtedly spent some time with Lorne and the unknown man with the hooked nose. She might know where they live. Will you do that?’

  ‘It seems a very reasonable suggestion,’ Merrick said slowly.

  ‘Good!’ said Rollison. ‘I think it might now show some dividends.’

  He took his leave, wondering, as he paced the corridors of Scotland Yard, what Old Glory would say if she knew what he had done.

  He did not return to Gresham Terrace until he had been to two newspaper offices in Fleet Street, and talked at length with the Society editors, amiable gentlemen who promised to try to find out how many people had been customers of Mary Henderson.

  When he at last returned to his flat, Derek Morral was waiting for him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Visit from Old Glory

  Derek was furious. The police had taken Katrina away, ostensibly for questioning, although any fool could tell that they suspected her of some part in the crimes. Nothing could be more absurd. He said much more, nothing of which was logical, and he seemed to have forgotten that he himself had once suspected Katrina. Finally, he asked whether Rollison had any influence with Scotland Yard.

  ‘Not enough to have her released,’ Rollison said. ‘In any case I don’t think it would be advisable.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘A police cell is the safest place for Katrina until this affair is over,’ said Rollison. ‘After the flowers incident, anything might happen.’

  ‘That’s a pretty odd way of looking at it,’ said Derek hotly.

  ‘It’s common sense,’ said Rollison.

  ‘So you won’t try to help her?’

  ‘I am trying to help her, in every way I can,’ Rollison assured him. ‘I warned you that she had not been frank enough with the police, and as you haven’t been able to gain her confidence, the police will have to try.’

  ‘You’re as bad as they are!’ growled Derek. He stalked out, full of anger against his cousin.

  That was a little after six o’clock. Jolly came in with whisky and soda which he placed by Rollison’s side.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Rollison, ‘but I won’t have one just yet. Mr Morral seemed annoyed, didn’t he?’

  ‘Shall we say anxious, sir?’

  Rollison gave a brief laugh.

  ‘It certainly sounds more pleasant. Has anyone been here this afternoon?’

  ‘No, sir, and there have been no telephone calls.’

  ‘Ah. A lull before, or after, the storm – which is it?’ said Rollison lightly. ‘Have you heard anything about Miss Hardy?’

  ‘Mr Tippets rang through to say that he was assured at the hospital that there was no danger, they were able to counteract the effect of the insulin in good time. It was not serious, because Miss Hardy has diabetic tendencies.’

  ‘So Miss Hardy had a dose of insulin, too,’ commented Rollison thoughtfully. ‘Not the easiest stuff to get hold of, insulin. It adds a complication which we could well do without. Give me that handbag, will you?’ He took Florence’s bag from Jolly, opened it cautiously, and saw another hollow needle, which was fitted to the clasp as cunningly as the one that had been fitted into Tips’ cigarette case. ‘Another antique, to please Professor Lowry,’ he added with a grimace. ‘Question one: where did they get the needles? Question two: where did they get the insulin? Question three: who and where are they?’ He took the needle out, using tweezers, and laid it on the tray. ‘There was a time when this affair seemed fairly simple. A matter only of a jewel robbery. But now I’m pondering if it’s quite as cut-and-dried as that. Have you any notions?’

  ‘None at all, I’m afraid,’ said Jolly.

  ‘Then let’s assume that the jewels are the motive,’ decided Rollison, ‘which means assuming also that the subsequent murder, and attempted murder, are simply intended to make sure that no one can find the jewels. As they’re so valuable, perhaps that’s a sufficient motive. As for the ice-cream, I still think that if we knew who put the arsenic in the container, we should know a great deal more than we already do.’

  ‘I have a suggestion to make about that, sir.’

  ‘Then go ahead.’

  ‘Well, sir, Miss Hardy was at the ice-cream counter, if I may use the expression, and was therefore almost certain to eat a little. Also, Mr Tippets, Miss Henderson and your cousin were at the party and all of them have since been victims of later attacks. It may be that Lorne, who was also there, thought it worthwhile trying to get rid of them all in one fell swoop, as it were.’

  ‘Hum,’ said Rollison.

  ‘Don’t you think it likely, sir?’

  ‘I wouldn’t rate it as high as that,’ said Rollison. ‘It’s a thought, of course. But there was no guarantee that any one of those particular people would eat ice-cream, and there was a great risk that people in whom Lorne wasn’t interested would suffer.’

  ‘Not if the moment was judged at precisely the time when most of the victims-to-be were in the group waiting for ice-cream,’ said Jolly.

  Rollison looked at him thoughtfully.

  ‘That’s true, but it is unlikely that they would all have the urge for ice-cream at the same moment. Grice always declared that the arsenic got into the ice-cream by accident, suggesting that it dropped out of someone’s hand. That could have happened, but I think there’s a far more plausible explanation, which would also allow for some degree of chance.’

  Jolly murmured a gentle encouragement.

  ‘Yes,’ Rollison went on. ‘Let’s assume that you, in the first place, are right about the intention to administer arsenic to certain people. Whoever did it would, if he or she were wise, shake only the powder in. In other words, the tube would be emptied into the ice-cream, and no one would notice a little white powder. It would stay on the top, and as Miss Hardy served the ices, the first-comers would get the arsenic. That’s reasonable, isn’t it?’

  ‘Undoubtedly,’ said Jolly.

  ‘Then, I think, came the accident,’ said Rollison. ‘The man or woman dropped tube and all. There was a risk that the tube would be noticed, so he or she, waiting for the right moment, leaned over and poked it deeper into the container. There, it was hidden from sight. Miss Hardy decided that the stuff wanted a stir, and duly stirred. So the arsenic was spread more thinly, the tube broke, and far more people suffered than was originally expected,’

  ‘I see, sir,’ said Jolly, mildly.

  ‘You don’t like the theory?’ asked Rollison.

  ‘I haven’t found it wholly convincing, sir,’ said Jolly, ‘although I do agree that it is possible that the tube was being emptied into the ice-cream and was dropped by accident.’

  ‘Grant me that, and the rest surely follows,’ claimed Rollison.

  ‘I suppose so,’ admitted Jolly, and allowed himself to smile. ‘Although I originally suggested that it might have been intended to serve the ice-cream laced with arsenic to those who were waiting for it at a given moment, I now wonder whether that was practical, sir. When all is said and done, it would have been much more effective had a small amount of the powder been put into the ice-cream already on plates held by the would-be victims.
’

  ‘But more difficult to do,’ said Rollison.

  ‘I wonder, sir, whether it would not have been easier? After all, few people ate their ice-cream right off. Most of them had a spoonful or two, and then put their plates down. Amid the hubbub, it would not have been impossible to drop a pinch of arsenic on to a plate.’

  ‘But that wasn’t done,’ objected Rollison.

  ‘Can we be sure that it wasn’t?’ asked Jolly.

  Rollison leaned back, and waited for him to continue.

  ‘I am thinking of the fact that most of the people who suffered from arsenic poisoning showed surprisingly little ill effects,’ said Jolly, ‘because such prompt action was taken. Now, let us suppose that larger doses were given to certain people and then the remainder was dropped into the container? There, it seemed safely hidden. Mr Tippets, however, found the small piece of glass too soon. Immediate action was taken, and the stomach pumps were used to such good effect that no one suffered badly. Imagine the acute disappointment of the criminal, sir – a man, or woman as you rightly say, who thought he could murder all the people who were in his way at one go, and then found that none of them was seriously hurt.’

  ‘Ah, yes,’ murmured Rollison.

  ‘And then, sir,’ said Jolly, standing up and walking to the window, an indication that he was about to tread on dangerous ground, ‘we have to consider one inescapable fact. Only people who ate ice-cream were to suffer. Most people at the party did, but there were glaring exceptions.’

  Jolly turned, and looked frankly at the Toff.

  ‘Ah,’ said Rollison, again. ‘Three glaring exceptions. You, who never eat ice-cream. Lady Gloria, who rarely does. And Mrs Morral. If Mrs Morral knew what was going to happen, it would be reasonable for her to avoid the stuff. She does eat ice-cream, Jolly.’

  ‘Are you sure, sir?’

  ‘Yes. She had some at Kundle’s the other night. Yet at Kundle’s an attempt was made to murder her.’

  Jolly said, gently: ‘Was it, sir?’

  Rollison sat forward, looking at him intently. Jolly clasped his hands together, and rubbed them gently, as if he were a little afraid of the consequence of his suggestions. Rollison, very still, did not speak for an appreciable time. Eventually he moved forward abruptly, picked up the whisky bottle, and as he poured himself a drink, said quietly: ‘I think you’ve got that worked out well, Jolly.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘The flowers were sent to a table near which I was sitting,’ said Rollison musingly, ‘and there was a card inscribed in red ink, which it was known would make me suspicious. So in all probability it was inferred that I would take the basket away and examine it myself, and when pulling the flowers out one by one, would get the whole explosion in my face as Grice did. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Jolly.

  ‘Very subtle,’ said Rollison. ‘But tell me, who knew that I knew that red ink was an object of suspicion?’

  ‘Lady Gloria and Mrs Morral,’ murmured Jolly.

  ‘Yes,’ said Rollison, and lifting his glass drank deeply. ‘Yes, indeed. Now we can more clearly understand why Lady Gloria asked me to go away because, she made it obvious, she was afraid of what I would find out. She was afraid that I would discover Mrs Morral was involved in this. There’s only one thing wrong with that, Jolly.’

  ‘And that is, sir?’

  ‘Lady Gloria has never shirked an issue to my knowledge,’ said Rollison. ‘She faces facts, no matter how unpleasant. I wonder what she really knows. Jolly.’ He was silent for a moment, and then added: ‘And I wonder why she went off with Mrs Morral on the night of the party.’

  ‘Will you go and see her, sir?’

  ‘Not yet,’ said Rollison. ‘I hope that she will come and see me.’

  She arrived a little after eight o’clock, when Rollison was having coffee after a modest dinner. She had not telephoned, but arrived without warning; and the first thing that struck him was that she looked older. She also looked tired, and there was no fire in her eyes as she sat down opposite him.

  ‘I’ve been expecting you,’ said Rollison.

  ‘I suppose you have,’ said Old Glory. ‘Did you arrange for Katrina to be arrested?’

  ‘Detained,’ corrected Rollison.

  ‘Don’t quibble. It’s the same thing. Did you arrange it?’

  ‘I suggested it. She will be safer with the police.’

  ‘Do you really think that?’ demanded Old Glory, ‘or are you pretending, Rolly?’

  ‘Guess,’ said Rollison.

  ‘Are you afraid of what Katrina has done?’ asked Old Glory, and when he did not immediately reply, she went on: ‘Or are you afraid of what Derek will do if he discovers the truth?’

  Still Rollison kept silent.

  Old Glory said: ‘I believed in her, Rolly. Although she would not tell me the whole truth, I believed in her and trusted her, and now I am afraid that she has been a party to all these crimes. It is too terrible to contemplate. Poor, poor Derek.’

  ‘I suppose you couldn’t be taking too much for granted?’ asked Rollison, quietly.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Old Glory. ‘Rolly, I asked you to leave this case, on the spur of the moment, because I hated the thought that you might have to hurt Derek, but you were right not to take my advice. You always have had a marked sense of duty.’

  ‘Oh,’ murmured Rollison, more than a little startled.

  ‘Now, Rolly, listen to me. In the beginning, I thought this was simply a matter of a young married couple unable to settle their differences. Katrina gave me to understand that she went away from Derek only after he had behaved so abominably that she could hardly stay with him. Three times, she told me, she left him; and three times she returned, hoping that she had taught him a lesson. I considered her behaviour praiseworthy.’

  ‘Yes,’ murmured Rollison.

  ‘She told me, also, that she had seen this man Lorne, a man whom she had met one night at a restaurant when she was alone, and that she allowed herself to be seen with Lorne because she knew that Derek was having her watched. She hoped that it would make him jealous. She declared, however, that although she had been about in public with him, she always spent the night alone at a small hostel. I believed her. I believed her, Rolly, because I wanted to think the best of her. And then, on the night of your party – I wish to heaven I had never planned it! – she went off on her own, and I thought she was so forlorn that she needed company, so I went to the hostel instead of to my club. She was not there.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Rollison.

  ‘However, she arrived a little after one o’clock,’ said Old Glory, ‘and looked weary and worn-out. She told me she had walked about London, too miserable to return to the hostel. That seemed perfectly understandable, so I stayed with her that night. There was not, you see, any great mystery about it.’

  ‘You gave us some anxious moments. Why didn’t you tell me all this at the time?’ asked Rollison.

  ‘I meant to let the club know, but it went right out of my mind until it was too late to disturb them. I thought they would assume I had come in unnoticed, and so wouldn’t worry about me. Which is what would have happened if you hadn’t stirred up trouble. However, I was not wholly satisfied. Derek did not quite bear out Katrina’s story. Derek is like you in some ways, a stickler for the truth – and you need not grin like that!’ she snapped. ‘Because you are a stickler for the truth, although would readily lie when you are on an investigation. That is in the way of business. I felt that Derek would, sooner or later, confess to me that he had behaved badly, but he continued to maintain that he could not understand what had come over Katrina. Well, to cut a long story short, Rolly, an hour or two before I telephoned you and asked you to go away, Derek telephoned me. He said Katrina had left him again. I
went immediately to the hostel. She was not there. I made inquiries. She did reserve a room there from time to time, but only once before had she slept at the hostel. I mean, only once before the night of the party.

  ‘Well,’ said Old Glory, after a long pause, ‘it was immediately obvious to me then that Katrina had been lying.’

  ‘Instead of asking me to go away, you should have told me that Katrina was missing,’ said Rollison. ‘She didn’t stay away for long this time.’

  ‘No. She returned that afternoon. I was so dispirited, that I decided to wash my hands of the whole affair. That frame of mind did not last long, however, and I went to Derek’s flat again this afternoon, determined to face them both together and try to get at the truth. I found Katrina under arrest, and Derek in a strange and bitter mood. I have done all I can do to help him, but he is afraid of the truth, of course. I have never seen him so distressed. Only by assuring him that I still believe in Katrina did I manage to pacify him.’

  Old Glory stopped, and leaned back. Rollison got up, and poured out a still tot of brandy, which he handed to her.

  Old Glory took the glass, but did not drink immediately. She said wearily: ‘It appears to me that Katrina is a tool of this man Lorne and his companions, and that her purpose was to find out where the jewels were and so enable them to steal them. That is what you believe, isn’t it?’

  Rollison said: ‘I think it’s possible, but I’m not yet sure.’

  ‘What doubt can there be?’

  ‘I am wondering whether anyone with so much on her conscience could be as happy as Katrina was at Kundle’s the other night,’ murmured Rollison.

  Old Glory looked at him shrewdly.

  ‘You almost make me hope,’ she said, and then turned her head quickly, for the front door bell rang. ‘I wonder if that’s Derek?’ she added.

  Chapter Twenty

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