The Affair of the Thirty-Nine Cufflinks

by James Anderson

  'What do you mean?'

  'Well, in spite of all outward appearances to the contrary, I believe he might be quite a reliable sort of cove. And as he knows something about it already, I think to take him into our confidence to a certain extent, and ask him to help keep an unobtrusive eye on Daddy, might make him even less inclined to gossip about either the nettles or anything else he may notice that's odd.'

  'You know him better than I do, so I'll leave it to you. But it's true I knew a number of young men like Tommy before the war. Quite vacuous on the surface. But a lot of them ended up leading battalions and winning medals.'

  Chapter Thirty

  Wilkins leaned back in his chair, with a sigh. 'Well, that was very nice.'

  He and Leather had just finished lunch, which had consisted of cold tongue, salad and new potatoes, with cold apple tart and cream for sweet. 'Told you, didn't I?'

  Leather, who had been hoping for something with chips and tomato ketchup, finished up his coffee. 'Yes, it was OK. Could have done with a pint of bitter, though. So, what do we do now?'

  'Well, we've finished here for the moment. Have to go and check up on a lot of things, but can't leave straight away, or it'll look as if we just hung on to get a free lunch.'

  'Which, of course, we didn't.'

  'What I really need to do is just sit and think. There never seems to be the time.'

  At that moment, Gerry entered. 'Your HQ just phoned again, Mr Wilkins. I took it. They said it wasn't important to speak to you, but to warn you that the early edition of the London Evening News is splashing the murder all over its front page. So we can expect swarms of reporters outside the gates very soon, I suppose. Heaven knows how they found out so quickly.'

  'Oh, I think I can guess, Lady Geraldine. I think you can, too, if you put your mind to it.'

  She furrowed her brow. 'I don't think . . .'

  'Your own personal mystery,' Wilkins prompted.

  She gave a start. 'The early morning phone call! But who could it have been?'

  'You should be able to work that out, too, if you're the detective I think you are.'

  Light dawned. 'Of course! Right, I'm going to ask her, straight out. She's on the terrace, I believe.'

  'I'll be right behind you, Lady Geraldine.'

  * * *

  Lord Burford dipped the paint brush in the purple ink and ran it down the length of the candle. Most of it immediately ran off, back into the bowl. 'Dammit,' said the Earl. It was being harder than he'd anticipated. The ink did not stick easily to the wax. After a couple more attempts, he took the candle by the wick, lowered it into the bowl and twirled it around before drawing it out. This time some ink at least stayed in place. He held it suspended over the bowl, spinning it round and blowing on it gently, until it had dried, then lowered it back into the ink and repeated the procedure. It took quite a long time, but eventually he laid the candle down on the desk and surveyed it proudly. Definitely a purple candle. Just what he'd wanted.

  Then a little doubt began to niggle. It wasn't really a purple candle: just a white candle, inked to look purple. Suppose they could tell the difference? Oh, well, it couldn't be helped. It would have to do for now. He could always get a real purple candle later on. He took the strip of paper, with the mirror writing, wound it round the candle and held it in place with a small rubber band.

  One more job nearly completed. Now he'd better knock off for a while and go and see how Wilkins was getting on.

  * * *

  'All right,' Stella said. 'It was me. I called a guy I know on the News early this morning. It was the chance of a huge scoop. But where's the harm? You couldn't have kept the lid on this much longer. Today or tomorrow you'd have had to issue a press statement. I just got in first by a few hours. And I didn't reveal the names of any of the guests, only that several well-known people were staying here. I didn't even give the name of the victim. I simply said a woman had been found dead, believed to have been suffocated, that the police were treating it as a case of homicide and that Detective Chief Inspector Wilkins of the Westshire police department was in charge of the investigation. Oh, and I did mention that a lot of cufflinks had been found scattered round the body. I thought that would give it a bizarre touch to hang the story on. If you'd asked us to keep quiet about it, I would have. But you didn't.'

  'I take your point, Miss Simmons,' Wilkins said. 'I should have done so. But, as you say, no real harm done, I suppose. No more phone calls, or telegrams, though, OK?'

  'Understood, Mr Wilkins.'

  He made his way back indoors, leaving Stella and Gerry alone. 'Gerry, I'm sorry,' Stella said. 'But I don't think I've done anything to embarrass you or your parents. And look at it from my angle. I'm desperately trying to break into mainstream journalism. I've given the News an exclusive and several hours' lead over the Standard and the Star. They'll be cock-a-hoop. It's bound to put me in good with them. Now honestly, in my shoes, wouldn't you have done the same?'

  Gerry, who was incapable of staying angry or feeling resentment for long, hesitated for a second, then smiled. 'Probably.'

  'Oh, thanks for taking it like that. It's swell of you. I know there'll be reporters arriving. But it's not like a town house. They won't be able to get past the gates. So they won't bother anybody. Tell me, you've been helping the cops, I know: do you have any ideas yet as to who might have done it?'

  'Nothing concrete. There is something at the back of my mind - something somebody said, or didn't say, or did, or didn't do - that at the time momentarily made me think "That's odd." But for the life of me I can't remember now what it was.'

  'You don't think it could have been Timothy, do you?'

  'It could have been. Theoretically, it could have been practically anybody.'

  'But he seems such a non-violent type.' She looked thoughtful. 'Of course, there was the way he threw Gregory.'

  'Yes, those quiet, repressed people can sometimes snap, if they're provoked.'

  'You think he's repressed? You know, I think he's just shy and - outside the courtroom - rather unsure of himself.'

  'You may be right. I haven't seen a lot of him.'

  'Things aren't easy between him and Penny, apparently. She thinks he's too strict. 'No secret relations are strained,' as he put it. And that's probably an understatement. So one can understand it if he's a bit on edge.'

  'Must be difficult,' Gerry said.

  'I do hope it's not him. I kinda like the guy.'

  'I fancy it's reciprocated.'

  'Do you? Honestly? Why?'

  'Oh, just the way he was talking to you last night. He lightened up a lot. He actually laughed.'

  'Which I don't suppose anybody's done since,' Stella said.

  * * *

  'OK, Jack,' Wilkins said. 'We've done a bit more work since lunch, so we've justified staying on. We can go now. Let's tell his lordship.'

  They found the Earl in the drawing-room. 'We've done all we can do here for the moment, my lord,' Wilkins said, 'and we're leaving now.'

  'So when will you be back?'

  'Difficult to say. There's lots to do and we're a bit short of time. However, I believe you can help me.'

  'Certainly. What do you want?'

  'Two things, actually. Sergeant Leather has to go up to London now.' (Leather, to whom this was news, concealed his surprise admirably.) 'And he needs to get on the earliest possible train. If we drive back to Westchester, the first one he could catch would be the two fifty-five, which wouldn't give him enough time in town to get everything done today. However, the twelve forty-five express will be leaving Westchester in about five minutes, which means it will pass through Alderley Halt at about five to one.'

  'D'you want me to have it stopped?'

  'If you please. What is the procedure?'

  'Oh, I just phone the chappie at the Halt - he seems to be station master, ticket collector and signalman rolled into one - and he signals it to stop. There's plenty of time. What was the second thing?'


  'You can tell me something about one of your guests; oh, nothing confidential, a matter of public record, but a thing it might take some time to find out.'

  'By all means. Anythin' to speed things up. What d'you want to know?'

  Wilkins told him. The Earl thought for a moment, before giving him the information he wanted.

  'Thank you, my lord. That's a great help. And it all means that we'll be back tomorrow morning, if everything works out.'

  'Really? Oh, that'll be splendid. Do you think you may be making an arrest then?'

  Wilkins sucked air in through his teeth. 'Well, if our enquiries turn out as I hope, I shall then need to speak to several people here again, and give them a chance to change their earlier statements.'

  'You think several people lied to you?'

  'At least three, quite possibly more. Once we've got them out of the way, I think I may be making an arrest. But if we draw blank in the next twenty-four hours, then I'm not sanguine, not sanguine at all.'

  'Well, I'm not surprised, Wilkins. I mean, there are so many mysteries, aren't there? That business of the cufflinks—'

  'Oh, I know the explanation of that.'

  'You do? 'Pon my soul. What about the Dora Lethbridge card?'

  'I believe so, my lord.'

  'The stolen toothpaste?'

  'I have an idea about that and hope to confirm it today.'

  'And the armour crashing down?'

  'Yes.'

  'Then what the deuce is it you don't know?'

  'Who killed Mrs Saunders, my lord.'

  Chapter Thirty-One

  'I'm wondering,' Stella said, shortly after lunch, 'whether it would be possible for Penny and me to get a ride into Westchester? If we're going to be here another twenty-four hours, we both need to buy a few things.'

  'Of course,' Lady Burford said. 'I should have thought of it myself. You must be thoroughly tired of those clothes.'

  'Well, they are starting to get a little crumpled, to say the least.'

  'I'll have Hawkins bring the car round straight away.'

  'Thanks very much. A shopping trip in a chauffeur-driven Rolls will be quite a treat in itself.'

  'Forgive my asking, but how are you both placed for cash?'

  'Well, we're a bit short. I'm hoping I can find a store which will take a cheque.'

  'Don't worry about that. We have accounts at the two main stores, Harper's and Dawson's. Charge everything to us and settle up later, whenever it's convenient. Tell Penny the same. I'll telephone the two managers and instruct them.'

  'That's terrific. Thank you very much.'

  'It's the least we can do, considering the situation we've been at least partly responsible for putting you in. I wonder if anybody else would like to go. I don't imagine Agatha and Dorothy will want to leave here, but perhaps one or more of the men . . .'

  Stella grimaced inwardly. A shopping trip with Gregory in tow was not what she had had in mind. She needn't have worried, however, as only Tommy, on hearing of Lady Burford's offer, decided to accompany the girls, though Timothy instructed Penny to buy him a shirt, plus some socks and handkerchiefs, while at the last moment Gregory requested Tommy to do the same for him.

  * * *

  The shoppers returned at half past four, loaded with packages. They reported - to the obvious delight of Penny - that they had been snapped on entering and leaving by the half a dozen photographers already gathered outside the main gates. The three then retired to their rooms to change. Stella emerged in a very plain light grey silk dress, of the kind which Gerry thought would be suitable for almost any occasion; while Penny had one in pale blue linen; both also had new shoes. Tommy sported a smart navy blazer and a pair of Oxford bags. Almost immediately Gerry cornered him.

  * * *

  'Yes, of course,' said Tommy. 'Glad to help. But what exactly d'you want me to do?'

  'Just keep your eyes open and let me know if you see him do anything unusual. Or if anybody else mentions seeing anything. But don't let them know you're particularly interested.'

  'Do my best. Where is your papa now?'

  'He's gone back to his study. He's been there ages. I wish I knew what he was up to.'

  'Can't you find some excuse just to go in and see?'

  'I don't want him to know I'm checking up on him. There's a sort of unwritten rule nobody disturbs him when he's in his study, except for something really important. Mummy and I have broken it twice already today and I don't want to do it again. It's his sort of sanctum.'

  'I've never had a sanctum,' said Tommy. 'Nobody's ever felt they mustn't disturb me.'

  After Gerry had left him he sat thoughtfully for a few minutes. Would he be justified? Under normal circumstances, obviously not. Still, Gerry was clearly worried, and if the old boy was going off his rocker, somebody ought to know. He'd do it. He went outside.

  Slowly, hands in pockets, he strolled round the side of the house. He gazed around him casually, kicked aimlessly at the turf and generally tried to give the impression of someone bored out of his wits. As he passed each window, he glanced quickly inside. He wasn't sure which room was Lord Burford's study. The first two clearly weren't, but as he passed the third he clearly saw the Earl, sideways on to him, seated at his desk.

  Tommy stopped and stood for a few seconds, staring out over the park, then turned and looked up at the house, as though admiring the architecture. Slowly, he let his gaze drop, until he was looking straight into the study. The Earl was plainly engrossed in whatever it was he was doing and quite oblivious to being observed. Tommy, though, was unable to make out what was so engaging his attention. He strolled on a few paces, glanced around to make sure the coast was clear, then moved up close to the wall of the house, bent his knees and in a crouching position moved a couple of feet, until he was beneath the right corner of the window. The Earl had been facing to Tommy's left as he had looked in, so viewing from this side of the window should mean he would be out of Lord Burford's line of sight, even should he happen to glance out.

  Very slowly Tommy raised himself until he had a clear view into the room. The Earl was obviously working on something small, yet his movements were quite quick; it did not look as though he was repairing anything. A crumpled white handkerchief was lying on the desk, partly obscuring his hands.

  Then the Earl gave his hand an irritated shake, sucked his finger, picked up the handkerchief and dabbed at his fingertip with it. Tommy could see that there were several small spots of what looked like blood on it. Lord Burford threw the handkerchief down again, this time in a slightly different position, giving Tommy a clear view of his hands.

  For two minutes Tommy watched him in amazement, then moved clear of the window, straightened up, made his way back indoors and went in search of Gerry.

  * * *

  'He's bending pins,' Tommy said simply.

  'He's doing what?

  'Bending pins in half and putting them in a little glass jar. He must have done about a dozen while I watched. He kept pricking his fingers, but he didn't stop.'

  'Oh, lor.' Gerry looked really worried now.

  'Probably a perfectly logical explanation,' Tommy said, encouragingly.

  'Such as?'

  'Well' - he groped for words - 'I know: people make models out of things, don't they? You know, Taj Mahal out of matchsticks, and so on. Might be possible to do the same sort of thing with pins.'

  'Thanks for trying to help, Tommy, but do you really think . . . ?'

  'Perhaps not. So, what are you going to do?'

  'There's nothing really I can do, short of calling the doctor, which Mummy's totally against.'

  'Are you going to tell her?'

  'I'm not sure. I'll think about it.'

  'Well, if there's anything else you want me to do, just say the word.'

  He went out.

  Gerry sighed. She'd really had hopes of solving this mystery single-handed, but her father's odd behaviour meant she had not been able to spend as long on the case
as she had hoped. He had told her about Wilkins' progress report. It was certainly impressive. But - he had not yet identified the murderer. Which meant she still had time. It was just gone five. Nearly three hours till dinner. She must put that period to good use. She stood up and left the room.

  * * *

  Lord Burford furrowed his brow. That, surely, was just about all he could do here. Only two more jobs, but very simple ones. He opened the drawer of his desk, took out a ball of string and a pair of scissors and cut off two pieces of string each about a foot long. He took from the drawer two small glass jars, both nearly full of bent pins, and a pair of grey socks, bulging like miniature Christmas stockings. These he put in his pocket. He struck a match, applied it to the bottom of the candle for a second, placed the candle in the centre of an ashtray and lit it. Then he left his study, locking the door behind him.

  * * *

  Gerry found Agatha and Dorothy sitting on the terrace, where Stella had been earlier. They were talking quietly, heads close together, but looked up as she approached and both smiled.

  'May I join you?' Gerry asked.

  'Please do,' Agatha said.

  Gerry sat down. 'I've been feeling guilty that I've hardly spoken to either of you today. But I didn't really know what to say. How are you bearing up?'

  They glanced at each other and Agatha answered. 'I'm OK. It was much worse for Dorry than for me, of course. I'm shocked, obviously, but, as I said earlier, I'm not going to feign any great grief. And to be brutally frank - which I feel I can be with you, Gerry, as I couldn't with many people - I have to say I think it was one of the best things that could have happened for Dorry. Though not the manner of it, of course.'