Death of a Shadow (An Inspector Littlejohn Mystery)

by George Bellairs

  He spoke to her very quietly and informally and she seemed to appreciate it.

  ‘I’m sorry, but you must realise that I had nothing to do with Cling’s death. I don’t see why I should be dragged into it. However, if you must know, I was in the Hôtel du Roi from the beginning of the banquet until the time when Roland Bellin sought me out at the end of the proceedings and asked me if I’d drive him and Sir Ensor home.’

  ‘Did anyone see you; or were you with anyone all this time?’

  ‘Of course. I didn’t wander about the place on my own. I was with Marie Amiguet, one of the secretaries to the delegation of the Prefect of Paris. We have been friends for a long time. We dined together in the hotel and then went into the large hall where the police dinner was being held. We listened to the speeches until the formal proceedings ended suddenly by your arriving and sending a message to Sir Ensor about Cling’s death.’

  ‘I see. When did you see Mr. Bellin?’

  ‘Just after the affair broke up and Sir Ensor left. Bellin asked him if there was anything we could do. Sir Ensor said no; he wished to get back to Ferney as soon as possible. The police asked a few questions of all of us and then we were allowed to go. Bellin and I went back to our hotel and I went to bed almost immediately. The following morning the police questioned all of us again, but we didn’t seem able to help much.’

  ‘Bellin told me that you were his alibi. Was that true?’

  She hesitated.

  ‘Remember, Miss Halston, you said you were with Mlle. Amiguet all the evening. Did Bellin join the pair of you at any time between your meeting her and his finding you later and asking you to drive them home? Mlle. Amiguet may be asked to confirm any such meetings.’

  Kate Halston remained silent and tugged at the handle of her bag nervously.

  ‘Listen, Miss Halston. You will be asked the question by the Swiss police and you’ll have to sign a statement confirming your answer. I cannot be responsible for what will happen if you commit perjury and give a false statement. If you tell me the truth, it will be over and done with. I will embody it in my report for the Swiss police and you will not be asked the same question again. If you don’t care to answer, however, Inspector Lindemann will have to deal with it.’

  ‘Roland made the statement that I was his alibi. I didn’t.’

  ‘But you confirmed it.’

  ‘I don’t know why he said it. Is that enough?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘He may have seen me several times during the evening. That’s probably what he was meaning.’

  ‘But you didn’t see him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘That is all I want to know.’

  ‘I don’t wish to make matters awkward for Roland. It makes him appear to be a liar, or playing some trick.’

  ‘He will be asked the same question again. If he repeats the answer, he’ll have to substantiate it. If he was mistaken, he can rectify his statement. It doesn’t mean to say we suspect him of killing Cling. By the way, how did he and Cling get on together?’

  ‘They didn’t have much to do with one another. Cling was concerned with the safety of Sir Ensor, not Bellin. In any case, it was difficult to be sociable with Alec Cling. Roland didn’t really like Cling.’

  ‘What did you think of Cling?’

  ‘He was a decent enough fellow, but, as I said, he never opened up and one never knew what he was thinking or what he thought of one.’

  ‘Was he a ladies’ man?’

  She laughed.

  ‘I was surprised to hear of his affair with Nurse Durand. I could never imagine him as a Don Juan. Mephistopheles, yes. But never the ageing lover. I tried to imagine when Sir Ensor told us of the affair, what he said or did to make a woman love him. He must have been a different man altogether with Nurse Durand.’

  ‘So she seemed to think. She tried to kill herself when he let her down.’

  ‘Poor Nurse Durand. I must try to see her when we get to Les Plaisances.’

  ‘You knew her well?’

  ‘She was in charge of Mrs. Cobb. I never missed visiting Sir Ensor’s mother whenever we were in the neighbourhood.’

  ‘Did Sir Ensor always go, too?’

  ‘Yes. He thinks a lot of his mother.’

  ‘Why, then, is she in a clinic so far away from home. Anything might happen.’

  ‘She is very fond of Dr. Fauconnet, strange as it may sound, for the doctor is a very formidable woman. But she and Mrs. Cobb seem to get on excellently together. Besides, senile ailments are one of the specialities of Les Plaisances. Dr. Binger has an international reputation. Mrs. Cobb wouldn’t be happy if they transferred her elsewhere. She is near her granddaughter there, too, and she is very fond of Madame Vincent. I’m afraid we’re going to have trouble when we suggest her moving.’

  ‘No reason why she should do so, if it suits her better there. After all, she is the one who matters. No crime has been committed by the doctors at the clinic. Just a bit of stupid panic in the face of an emergency. Everything will probably turn out all right.’

  She seemed happier for that, although still troubled by the thought that she might have let Bellin down. The last thing she said before the plane touched down at Geneva was that she hoped Littlejohn would not think badly of Bellin, who’d probably made a mistake.

  Lindemann was there to meet them. He was anxious to hear what Littlejohn had been doing since last they met and they called at the police station in Geneva. Miss Halston asked to be allowed to go to her hotel right away and settle in before dinner. It was already dusk and there wasn’t much more that any of them could do that day. They agreed. It gave Littlejohn and Lindemann a chance for a private talk. Littlejohn arranged to call for Miss Halston at her hotel at ten next morning.

  Littlejohn told Lindemann of developments and of the matters he had set in motion concerning the English party: Sir Ensor, Miss Halston and Bellin. He didn’t mention the attempt of Bellin to give himself an alibi. He felt he’d rather confront Bellin with the lie himself first.

  Lindemann was a bit excited by the news that Littlejohn’s hired car had travelled a considerable distance since he’d left it in the car park on the night of the police dinner.

  ‘I have been considering what journeys could have been made covering that distance. It was obviously a trip to Les Plaisances from Geneva and back. Could it mean that Cling went there, took the diamonds, and got himself murdered and the jewellery stolen?’

  ‘That is a problem we’ll have to settle.’

  And he then flabbergasted Lindemann by telling him the tale of Cling’s visit to the Helder Bank and substituting the real for the false diamonds.

  ‘That was a strange thing to do. What could he have been up to?’

  ‘I don’t know yet. But it has considerably altered my opinion of Cling. It would appear that instead of being the villain of the piece and planning to steal Mrs. Cobb’s jewels and run away with them, he was a dutiful officer to the last. He was murdered in the execution of his duty. He had evidently come across some plot to steal the diamonds, set a trap, saved the diamonds, but lost his own life.’

  15

  Intruder in the Night

  THE POLICE CAR which took Littlejohn and Kate Halston to Les Plaisances followed the now familiar route, but neither of the passengers saw much of the scenery. They were too occupied with their own thoughts for most of the way. Now and then they spoke.

  ‘Are you familiar with Mrs. Cobb’s routine at the clinic, Miss Halston?’

  ‘Yes, roughly.’

  She spoke without showing much interest. It was evident that the police business in hand was worrying her.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘She takes things very easily and sleeps quite a lot. She wakes at around nine and has her breakfast in bed, if she feels like any. Then she sits up in bed looking at illustrated magazines, reading letters. If she hasn’t any through the post, she reads the old ones. She never throws a letter away. Sometimes, if she feels mo
re energetic than usual or the mood takes her, she does some knitting. Confused work which usually takes the form of presents which nobody can use. But it pleases her to give them and it keeps her interested and occupied. Recently she gave me a jumper in purple and white wool, miles too large for me and with odd sleeves. Had I worn it, it might have created a fashion. And on occasions, when she’s suddenly seized with a period of exceptional energy and lucidity, she’ll read a book or, at least, begin one. She rarely finishes them. Biographies in which people she once knew appear …’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘Lunch. She usually gets up and has lunch in her room, dressed in her négligé. Afterwards, another sleep for a couple of hours, under sedative, if necessary. Then tea.’

  ‘Still in bed?’

  ‘Yes. She rises about five and dresses. This is quite a ceremony, for she puts on her evening gown and her diamonds. Sometimes, she dines with friends she’s made in the clinic. Or if she’s not in the mood, she takes dinner in her room. Bed about nine after her usual sleeping draught.’

  ‘I suppose all of you, Sir Ensor, yourself, Bellin and even Cling knew of the daily routine.’

  ‘Yes. Visiting is more or less controlled by it, so we all knew, approximately, when it would be most convenient to see her.’

  ‘I’m afraid Mrs. Cobb may be in very poor shape when we call today. She has taken the theft of her diamonds very badly.’

  ‘I can quite believe it, poor dear. They were the centre of her existence and unless they are returned to her, it will probably kill her.’

  ‘I hope to be able to tell her she’ll soon have them back. Kindly leave that to me. It may make it easier for me to question her.’

  ‘I spoke to the clinic from my hotel after I left you at police headquarters. They said we could only see her for a little while. She was rather poorly. I take it she hasn’t been told that Mr. Cling took the jewels.’

  ‘No. She only knows they’ve gone.’

  ‘I’m glad. She seemed to think the world of Cling. I can’t think why. She was always more thrilled by a visit from him than from Sir Ensor or Madame Vincent. He might have been her own kith and kin. I never told Sir Ensor that his mother and Cling got on so well. He wasn’t fond of Cling and might have told him to keep away from Les Plaisances. In which case, Mrs. Cobb would have been most hurt and disappointed.’

  Littlejohn remembered the old aunt and uncle whom Cling used to visit in Leicestershire. They’d thought the world of him and he had treated them with exemplary kindness. Cling must have had a way with old, forgotten people.

  ‘What does Sir Ensor do about transport when he makes his foreign excursions?’

  ‘Different things. Sometimes, we hire a vehicle when we arrive. At others, Sir Ensor’s car is flown to our destination if we are travelling by air. In Geneva, however, matters are always more informal with Sir Ensor’s daughter living nearby. Sir Ensor uses Dr. Vincent’s Mercedes.’

  ‘And the doctor’s chauffeur?’

  ‘No. The doctor needs him as often as not. And we don’t bother to hire a casual man. Roland Bellin or myself drive him around.’

  ‘On the night of the police banquet … What then?’

  ‘The three of us travelled from Ferney to Geneva in the Mercedes as usual. Roland drove.’

  ‘And it was parked in the official park at the side of the hotel?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It was there when you returned later to Ferney?’

  ‘Yes. I drove them back. Sir Ensor and Roland had drunk quite a lot of wine. We thought it best that way.’

  It was getting on for noon when Les Plaisances came in sight. The sun was shining and the place looked very sylvan and happy. Knots of patients were gathered about the fields, as before, and the terrace in front of the main building was set out with tables, chairs and coloured umbrellas for those who were going to lunch out of doors or who merely cared to lounge and take the fresh air.

  The police car pulled up at the main entrance and a porter in a brass-buttoned lounge suit and peaked cap opened the door of the vehicle for them. He asked what he could do for them.

  Littlejohn took him aside.

  ‘Excuse me, Miss Halston. I just want a word with the porter.’

  She nodded assent and having been greeted by Cardinal Richelieu, who always seemed there to welcome guests, entered into conversation with him, presumably, judging from its seriousness, about notifying His Majesty that the Cardinal was ready for official duties again.

  ‘Were you on duty last Thursday evening?’

  The man with the brass buttons lifted his cap gently and stroked his thin hair.

  ‘Yes. I usually come on here at ten a.m. and leave at ten p.m., after locking the main door.’

  ‘You keep an eye on the cars parked here?’

  ‘Yes. Nobody’s likely to misbehave with them, but it’s just as well to keep a watch on them. For instance, the man who’s known as the Cardinal is quite a good driver. It wouldn’t do for him to take off one day and drive himself to Paris to see His Majesty, would it?’

  ‘Are any cars left here overnight?’

  ‘Not as a rule. The staff cars are garaged behind the building under cover. The dews here are sometimes very heavy. It’s best to give the cars a roof over their heads.’

  ‘When you locked up for the night last Thursday, did you notice any cars in front of here in the open parking place?’

  ‘Thursday. Let me see. Yes; that would be the night when there were three cars left in the courtyard for some time after dark. I remember it because it was most unusual. By that time, all the visitors have gone and the staff, even if they have had their cars parked in front, have usually driven them round to the back and put them under cover.’

  ‘What kind of cars were they?’

  ‘There was a little red Sublime there. My son-in-law has one, so I recognised the make.’

  ‘What time would that be?’

  ‘It wasn’t here at six, when I took a look round, but just before I went in to dinner, about half past eight, I saw it standing there. After dinner, I came out again. It was dark, but I could see well enough. Around nine o’clock that would be. The Sublime had gone.’

  ‘Any other cars there?’

  ‘As I said, there were three when I looked. One was Dr. Fauconnet’s little coupé. That had gone when I found the Sublime wasn’t there. She’d probably put it away under cover. The third car was a Mercedes. I’d seen it before. It belongs to Dr. Vincent, a consultant from Ferney, who sometimes calls here. His wife comes in it, too, to see her mother who’s a patient in the clinic. That was the last to leave.’

  ‘What time?’

  ‘It was there, as I said, when I came out at half past eight. Perhaps the doctor was in with Dr. Fauconnet. However, it had gone when I came out again to lock up at ten.’

  ‘Did you see the drivers of the Sublime or the Mercedes?’

  ‘Sorry. No.’

  ‘Thank you very much.’

  ‘Anything more I can do, sir?’

  ‘May we see Dr. Binger, now?’

  ‘Of course. What name shall I say?’

  Littlejohn gave the man his card. They were ushered in Binger’s strange office without delay.

  Binger was obviously disturbed by this second visit. He blinked nervously as he greeted them and grew rather effusive in welcoming Kate Halston, as though he saw in her some kind of protection against the rigour of Littlejohn.

  ‘Mrs. Cobb? Of course you may see her. But I warn you, she is not herself. Not herself, by any means. The loss of her jewellery has upset her very much. You won’t be able to stay with her long. In fact, you won’t wish to stay long. Her condition is most disappointing …’

  He led the way out, walking with his left shoulder ahead of his right one, like someone swimming a sidestroke. They took the lift to a second storey on the front of the building and in the corridor Binger handed them over to a nurse whom Littlejohn hadn’t seen before.

  �
��I won’t come in with you. I saw Mrs. Cobb not more than a couple of hours ago. Nurse Armleder will look after you. I may see you again on your way out.’

  He looked as if he hoped not, shook hands limply and left them.

  Mrs. Cobb was sitting up in bed cutting illustrations from a fashion journal with a pair of scissors. It was obvious that she was glad to see Miss Halston and she shook hands with her and kissed her and brightened up considerably until she remembered she was in trouble and began to weep rather childishly.

  ‘I’m so glad to see you, Kate. I’m in terrible trouble. My diamonds have gone and nice Nurse Durand is ill and someone else is looking after me and I don’t like her.’

  Miss Halston comforted her and gave her a bunch of flowers and a box of chocolates. Mrs. Cobb at once opened the latter and began to eat the contents, in spite of the fact that she was in the middle of complaining about her lack of appetite.

  ‘And now I have some good news for you, Mrs. Cobb. This is Superintendent Littlejohn, of London, who has something to tell you.’

  Littlejohn had been standing in the background awaiting his turn. He was rather surprised at Mrs. Cobb, as she wasn’t what he had expected. In fact, in his opinion, there were many elderly ladies far less lucid and more helpless than she, wandering about Geneva on holidays. She was, as far as he could see, plump, fair, with a good pink complexion, white hair which frequently had the services of a good hairdresser, and with china blue eyes. He’d been given to understand that she was around eighty. She looked at least ten years younger than that.

  He approached the bed and shook the proffered hand. She wore several rings with stones the value of which he couldn’t estimate. They might have been glass for anything he knew, but probably weren’t.

  ‘It is nice of you to call. You are a policeman?’

  ‘That’s right, Mrs. Cobb.’

  ‘Like Mr. Cling was. A nice man, Mr. Cling. He never came abroad without calling here to see me and bringing me a book or some flowers or chocolates. We used to talk together for hours when he could spare the time. He was as you know, a great friend of my son’s. They were travelling companions.’