Death on the Way

by Freeman Wills Crofts

  ‘A bit of a coincidence that the row should occur just at the time of Ackerley’s death.’

  ‘No doubt, but coincidences do happen.’

  French thought over this. ‘There’s another difficulty, sir. If what you suggest were so, how would the accomplice get his money: I mean after Carey’s death? The money was paid to Carey and to Carey only.’

  ‘That’s a fact.’ Rhode paused, then went on: ‘It looks like Ackerley right enough, and yet as you say yourself, there’s a lot of evidence as to Ackerley’s innocence.’

  ‘It’s been what’s puzzling me,’ French admitted. ‘I would jump at the idea of some confederate other than Ackerley, but I can’t see who it might be.’ He paused and a sudden eager look came into his eyes. ‘I tell you, sir; it has just occurred to me this moment. There is one person to whom the difficulty of losing the money wouldn’t apply.’

  Rhode glanced at him keenly. ‘Get on with it,’ he growled. ‘Think I’m a thought reader?’

  ‘Carey’s successor.’

  Rhode nodded slowly. ‘It’s an idea,’ he agreed. ‘Yes, it’s an idea. If his successor had been going halves with him, Carey’s removal would leave the entire proceeds to the successor. Instead of getting nothing, he’d get all. That’s more hopeful, French. Go ahead to the next stage.’

  ‘The next stage is that Lowell is the successor. But the question is, did he know that during Carey’s lifetime?’

  ‘He’d have a pretty good idea. These appointments usually hinge on whether there’s anyone else for the job, and he’d know that. It seems to me, French, that there’s another line for you: Lowell.’

  ‘I agree, sir. I’ll go into it at once. All the same we mustn’t forget that Lowell had an alibi for the Saturday night before Ackerley was killed.’

  Rhode shrugged. ‘I shouldn’t build too much on that,’ he advised. ‘You know as well as I do that alibis can be faked. See what this Lowell idea gives you, and if necessary you can go into the alibi again later.’

  ‘I’ll do so.’ French got up. ‘I suppose that’s all we can do now?’

  ‘No, sit down again. We exhumed that body last night.’

  ‘Oh,’ said French in some surprise. He had expected to have been asked to be present.

  ‘Yes. You were in town when we got the order and I thought it wasn’t worth while waiting for you.’

  ‘I came back last night, sir.’

  ‘I didn’t know that or I should have advised you. However, it doesn’t matter. What I wanted to say is that I’m expecting to hear from the analyst every moment. You better wait till his report comes through.’

  French was so certain of the correctness of his conclusions as to Carey’s death that he had lost a good deal of his original interest in the analyst’s report. Evidence of drugging would, of course, be useful when the case came into court, but French did not think it would materially assist his present inquiry. He said as much to Rhode and the two men drifted into a desultory conversation on drugging as an asset to crimes of violence.

  ‘You might be able to trace the purchase of the drug, you know,’ Rhode said presently. ‘That would be something that you couldn’t afford to sneeze at.’

  French had not overlooked the possibility, and while they discussed the steps which might prove desirable in this connection, the analyst’s report arrived.

  It was as French had believed. Carey had been heavily drugged with butyl-chloral hydrate and the analyst estimated that the dose must have amounted to about 60 grains.

  ‘There you are,’ Rhode said somewhat grimly. ‘Does that satisfy you?’

  French agreed that, so far as it went, it was right enough. ‘Butyl-chloral hydrate,’ he went on; ‘if I don’t mistake, that’s not a poison under the act. Anyone could get it by making up some plausible story and signing the poison book. Not so easy to trace the sale, but of course, I’ll have a shot at it.’

  That night French wrote confidentially to Hugh Spence, asking him to let him know what had been the arguments for and against appointing Lowell as successor to Carey, and also saying how far these arguments might reasonably have presented themselves to Lowell. Then he drafted a circular for insertion in the various chemists’ and druggists’ journals, requesting information as to the purchase of butyl-chloral hydrate by persons unknown to the salesmen.

  French felt that he need not wait for a reply from Spence before testing his suspicions of Lowell. No matter what the reply, Lowell was a suspect and his actions on the night of Carey’s death must be gone into. Next day then he would take up this line of research.

  He trusted it would be the last in a very puzzling and troublesome case.

  15

  Elimination

  On the following morning French went down once again to the contractor’s office. There he was lucky enough to find Lowell, as well as Pole and Templeton. The news of the exhumation had leaked out, and all three seemed just as keen to get information from French as he was to learn from them.

  ‘Yes,’ he said in answer to a question from Lowell, ‘there is reason to suspect that it may have been murder, and that will excuse my having to put to each of you gentlemen some purely formal, but I am afraid, rather unpleasant questions,’ and he went on with his little tale about these being a mere matter of routine.

  French was interested by the reaction each of his hearers displayed. All three at once told him to go ahead, but whereas Parry and Templeton were obviously merely interested, Lowell betrayed undoubted signs of uneasiness. However, he answered as readily as the others.

  ‘I want, in a word,’ French went on, ‘to know just how you gentlemen spent your time that evening. I think it might be more convenient if you would tell me one by one, and if you will let me have the use of the inner office, perhaps one of you would come in?’

  ‘Of course, inspector,’ Lowell answered. ‘I’ll come with you, and when you have finished with me the others can go in turn.’

  They sat down in the private room, closing the door.

  ‘Now, if you please, Mr Lowell. Give me all the detail you possibly can, so as to save my having to ask questions.’

  ‘It isn’t so frightfully easy to remember everything one did on an occasion of this kind,’ Lowell began. ‘Now, I could tell you about next day. Everything is fixed in my mind by Carey’s death. But the evening before there was nothing to fix things on my mind. However, I’ll do my best.’

  French replied with non-committal encouragement. If Lowell were innocent, what he said was perfectly true: if guilty, it was the thing he naturally would say.

  ‘That afternoon we were all in the office. I was rather slack and was finishing up some unimportant routine work. As I was sitting there it suddenly occurred to me that concreting was to begin on the arch of Bridge 982 first thing in the morning. That’s a small bridge at the far end of Cannan’s Cutting, a mile or more from here. I remembered that I hadn’t inspected the reinforcing steel work. I had intended to do so that day and had forgotten. It’s my job, you understand, to see all reinforcement before it’s covered, and if anything should afterwards be found wrong, I should get it in the neck.

  ‘I thought for a while that I needn’t trouble about the thing and that it would be all right. Then I saw that it would be too serious for me to risk a possible mistake, and I decided I’d go out then and there and have a look over the work. Carey and Templeton had gone and I didn’t say anything to Pole about it, simply because I didn’t want to be chipped for my forgetfulness.’

  Again Lowell paused, but French making no comment he presently continued: ‘It was closing time in any case, so I put my torch into my pocket and went out. It was pretty dark, but I knew the way well and managed all right. I went over the bridge carefully with my torch; it didn’t take very long. Then I went straight to “Serque”. I got in before dinner, which, as Carey didn’t come in, I had with Pole. After dinner I didn’t feel like going out again and I lay on the sofa and read a novel till bedtime. Pole didn’t go
out either, so he can bear witness to that part of it.’

  French made a mildly deprecatory gesture.

  ‘That’s all very clear, Mr Lowell. Now, I wonder could you put times on to it all? I like things set out in the form of a railway timetable. First, can you say what time you left the office?’

  Lowell considered. ‘About quarter to six, I should think: I’m not quite sure.’

  ‘Good enough. And when did you arrive at “Serque”?’

  ‘Let’s see. It would have taken, say, twenty minutes to walk out, twenty to inspect the steelwork and twenty-five to walk back—it’s a little farther to “Serque.” I must have arrived at “Serque” about ten minutes to seven. That would be about right, too. We have dinner at seven and I had just comfortable time to change.’

  ‘Good enough again.’ French moved a little forward and became more confidential. ‘Now, Mr Lowell, our instructions are always to get as much confirmation as possible when we take statements.

  ‘With regard to the time you spent in the office before going out to the bridge, and at “Serque” after returning, we needn’t worry: there’ll be plenty of corroboration for that. That leaves the hour from 5.45 to 6.45. What confirmation can you give me about that?’

  Lowell shrugged. ‘None, I’m afraid,’ he answered shortly.

  ‘Did no one see you walking out or in?’

  ‘Not that I know of. You see, it was dark and the men had gone home.’

  ‘The watchman?’

  ‘He didn’t see me. I went out by the small gate near the offices.’

  French slowly rubbed his chin. ‘I wish you would try and think of some confirmation for that part of your statement,’ he persisted. ‘You know, we believe that it was during that hour that Mr Carey was murdered, and it would, therefore, be better for everyone concerned to be able to prove where he was at that time.’

  There was now no question of Lowell’s anxiety. He went some shades paler and nervousness showed in his jerky movements. He shook his head helplessly.

  ‘Well, if you can’t, you can’t,’ French said presently, moving back in his chair. ‘But if you think of anything, let me know. Thank you, Mr Lowell. May I see Mr Pole?’

  Lowell got up, walked to the door, hesitated, and came back.

  ‘I’ve just remembered a little incident,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid it doesn’t exactly prove my story, but at least it tends towards corroboration.’

  ‘Good,’ said French. ‘Let’s have it.’

  Lowell once more sat down. ‘It’s a very small thing,’ he said; ‘only that while I was checking up the reinforcement I lost my rule. I laid it down to consult the plan and forgot it. As a matter of fact I afterwards learned that it had slipped down to the springing and got hidden behind some rodding. It wasn’t till the second day that it was discovered.’

  ‘Yes?’ French encouraged.

  ‘That’s all, I’m afraid. I thought perhaps the rule having been found there would be evidence of my going out.’

  ‘Can you prove all that?’ French asked doubtfully.

  ‘I think so. I had my rule that day before Carey’s death. I was using it that afternoon at the viaduct. Pole was with me and saw it. From then I was in the office all the time till quarter to six, so I couldn’t have dropped it before that.’ Lowell’s manner became more eager and he seemed to be warming to his subject. ‘I believe this is going to help after all, inspector. Next day, that was the day after Carey’s death, I was about the yard all the time. Someone must have noticed me. I missed my rule that day and asked if anyone in the office had seen it. Then next morning it was found at the bridge. I hadn’t been out a second time when it was found.’

  ‘That would seem quite useful, Mr Lowell.’

  French’s manner was non-committal. This was not quite the kind of alibi he liked. There was rather too much of a coincidence about losing the rule at the very time and place at which its recovery would provide the required evidence. However, it might be right enough. It would be his duty to test it and he would do so carefully.

  That being all Lowell could tell, French asked him to send in Pole.

  Pole said that on the afternoon of the day before that on which Carey’s death was discovered Carey was the first to leave the office. Templeton followed a few minutes later, and after him Lowell. Lowell went out about quarter to six. He, Pole, left very soon after, shortly before six, shutting up the office. He went straight to ‘Serque’, where he changed and sat about reading the paper till dinner. After dinner Lowell and he spent the evening with novels.

  Pole did not know whether he could get any confirmation of his whereabouts during the hour 5.45 to 6.45. The watchman had seen him leave the yard, but whether the man would remember this, he couldn’t tell. He had reached ‘Serque’ a few minutes after six, but he had let himself in and he could not tell whether anyone had seen him arriving. French took a note to make inquiries on the point.

  French next turned to Lowell’s alibi. Yes, Pole had seen Lowell using his rule at the viaduct that same afternoon. In fact, he had used it himself and he knew it was Lowell’s because he had noticed his initials on it. Next day Lowell complained that he had lost it. He mentioned it in the office and asked whether anyone had seen it. That was on the day of the discovery of Carey’s death. On the day following it was found. It had slipped down under the reinforcement of a bridge near Cannan’s Cutting. Lowell then said that he had gone out to check the reinforcement on the evening before Carey’s death, having forgotten to do so earlier in the day. Yes, Lowell was in the office all that day on which the tragedy was discovered and could not possibly have gone out to the bridge. Oh, yes, the finding of the rule showed that Lowell was there all right, at least it did so in his, Pole’s, opinion.

  French did not really suspect Pole. He thought he was too junior to have carried through these terrible operations. However, if proof were available that he reached ‘Serque’ a little after six, it would set the matter at rest.

  Templeton followed Pole. He explained that he had lodgings in another quarter of the town and that when he left the office he went straight to them. He did not know whether anyone there had seen him enter, but he had had supper at seven and his presence at the meal could be vouched for. After supper he had gone to the same billiard rooms as on the night of Ackerley’s death, and the proprietor would doubtless remember his being there.

  French next immersed himself in the rather uninteresting work of checking the statements of these three men. In the cases of Pole and Templeton he made little of it. On calling at ‘Serque’ and at Templeton’s lodgings he learned that both men had had their evening meals at seven, that both were believed to have come in some time before that hour, but that no one knew how long. Templeton’s statement that he had spent the evening playing billiards proved true.

  So far as French could learn, then, either Pole or Templeton might have committed the murder. But he did not believe either of them had. This admittedly was merely his, French’s, private opinion, and he still noted the two men as possibles, though improbables.

  With regard to Lowell French did not feel so sure. That alibi about visiting the bridge and losing the rule had a very artificial sound. It was the kind of alibi that might be invented by a not very brilliant schemer, a man, French judged, with mental powers similar to Lowell’s. A really finished rogue always eliminated the element of coincidence from his alibis, but here a most improbable coincidence was the foundation of the whole thing.

  So thought French as he tramped out along the line to the bridge in question. It was an unpleasant day, dull and cold and gray, with a keen easterly wind which flecked the lead-coloured sea with white. French was interested in the work along the Widening, and on two occasions he could not help stopping to watch what was going on. Then he reminded himself that he had something else to do than stand and watch other people working, and that he was no better than a child on his way to school.

  At French’s request the foreman at Bridge
982 brought up the workman who had found the rule. This man described the place where it had been lying, though he could not actually point it out, as it was now filled with concrete.

  ‘It was on Thursday morning that you found it, was it not?’ French asked.

  ‘Yes, I was ’aving a bit of a look round an’ I sees it lying under the steel.’

  ‘Quite. And you began concreting on the Wednesday, the previous day?’

  ‘That’s right, mister.’

  ‘Did you have a similar look round on the Wednesday?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I ’ad a look round. An’ a good one, too.’

  ‘Then how did you come to miss seeing the rule on Wednesday?’

  The man was slightly aggrieved at the question. Instead of criticising his having missed it on the first day, he evidently thought he was entitled to praise for finding it on the second.

  As satisfied as he expected to be, French turned back to Whitness. He felt that the presence of the rule really did prove the visit of Lowell to the bridge. If the man were guilty he would never have trusted any other person to plant it for him. The only doubtful question was the time at which the visit had been made.

  On this point there could only be the evidence of Lowell’s associates. As French turned their statements over in his mind, he saw that this was more complete than he had at first realised.

  Pole had been with Lowell at the viaduct after lunch on the Tuesday. While there, Pole had seen Lowell using his rule and putting it away in his pocket. Pole had accompanied Lowell back to the office, and the latter had not left the office again before 5.45. Pole was with Lowell that evening from seven o’clock till bedtime, and again through the entire next day and evening. Unless, therefore, Pole was lying, it really would have been impossible for Lowell to go out and plant the rule at any time other than that at which he had said.

  This, however, was another way of saying that Lowell was innocent of the murder. French, though still not absolutely convinced in his own mind, noted Lowell as ‘provisionally’ found innocent.