by John Creasey
If he discredited the evidence against Jeff Dell and the possibility that Carol was involved, he had to assume an unknown killer. Who? Where had the other Dells been at the time? Matthew and Thomas had left Dacres ostensibly to fetch Jeff, but they might not have gone straight back, Charles and Mark might have left, too. But probably all four had been at the bedside of the old man when Kingham had been killed.
There remained one other question—that of motive.
Had someone been lying in wait for Kingham, overheard the conversation in the room upstairs, lured Jeff away, and murdered the curio dealer? Was it because of interest in the pendant, or for some reason unconnected with the Dells?
Lorna’s calm voice broke in on his thoughts.
“What next?”
Murder had brought crisis, and Lorna, composed and resourceful, was prepared to meet it. She might disagree with what he had told Kay; she might think that he had landed himself in this through his own folly; but from now on she would be with him all the way.
“I think I’ll telephone Dacres, I won’t be long.”
Lorna nodded, and watched him hurry across the road to a telephone kiosk. He hardly saw the holiday-makers or heard the sounds from the beach, but he noticed that a man was walking across the road towards him. He had seen the man with Kay; so Kay was going to have him watched.
An unfamiliar man’s voice answered his call to Larmouth 311.
“My name is Mannering,” said Mannering. “How is Mr Montagu Dell, please?”
“Oh, very much better, sir. The attack was a short one. Mr Dell will rest for a day or two, but there is no further cause for anxiety.
“Splendid! Is Mr Geoffrey Dell there?”
“He hasn’t been here today,” said the other, whom Mannering assumed was Bunny Firth. “The rest of the family left before lunch.”
“I must have just missed them at the hotel.”
“They left her about a quarter past twelve, after Dr Morris had assured them that there was no further cause for anxiety. Is there any message I can give them from you, if they call again?”
“Thank you, no. I shall probably be seeing them this afternoon.”
Mannering rang off, looked blankly at the detective who had walked past the kiosk several times, and returned to the shop.
He had first reached there a little after one o’clock. All the Dells had had the opportunity to drive from Dacres to the town and get to the shop, so none of them could be ruled out. He was neither surprised nor sorry, for the more suspects the better it was for Jeff; and right or wrong, reasonable or not, he was on Jeff’s side.
Kay’s voice drifted through to him. There was a certain edge to it. “There’s no need for you to stay, Mr Mannering, unless you have a special reason.”
“We’re waiting with Miss Armitage until Mrs Kingham returns,” explained Lorna, pleasantly.
“As you wish,” said Kay. “You’d better go into the office until we’ve finished upstairs.”
They did not see the ambulance arrive, for the gathering of the small, avid crowd quickly dispersed by the police.
Carol sat, strained and silent, waiting for Mrs Kingham’s return.
“Ah!” she exclaimed, suddenly, darting to the door.
A woman had entered the shop, a peroxide blonde with the set, tight curls of one who was returning from the hairdresser’s. Mannering could hear her voice, loud and strident, as she hurried down the centre of the shop.
Carol slipped out to meet her.
“What the devil is happening here?” demanded Mrs Kingham. “Has there been a burglary? Where’s Will?”
Carol hesitated, and Mannering moved forward, drawing the brilliant, angry gaze towards himself.
“Well, what has been going on?”
There was little Mannering could do to break the news gently; she wouldn’t let him. At his blunt words, she sat down heavily on an oak coffer and looked up at him, her brisk assertiveness drained from her.
And then she said: “The fool, he asked for it! I warned him—”
She stopped abruptly, and set her lips. Mannering could not find it in him to be sorry for her. He had no chance to find out what she meant by that cryptic remark, for at that moment Kay came down, and took charge.
Somehow, it seemed the right thing for Lorna to take charge of Carol Armitage.
She had, apparently, no relatives in Larmouth, and few friends. She had worked for Kingham for nearly two years, liked the work and given much of her spare time to it. It was easy to see that she had thought herself self-sufficient, fully able to stand on her own; now loneliness struck at her. She took it courageously, protesting when Lorna suggested that she should come to the Royal. She could not afford it, she had her own small furnished flat and would be all right there. Mannering overcame her objections by saying that he did not like to leave Lorna alone in the hotel, and would be greatly relieved if Carol would stay with her.
Back at the Royal Mannering saw Lloyd standing at the entrance, looking up and down the street. Seeing Mannering, he went up to him.
“You don’t know where Mr Geoffrey Dell went with my car, do you?” he asked complainingly. “He said that he wanted it for a couple of hours, it’s now nearly half-past four.”
“It’s parked outside Kingham’s Curio Shop,” said Mannering.
Lloyd stared with sudden comprehension. “There’s been trouble at the shop, hasn’t there? What’s the car doing there?”
Mannering gave a brief resumé of what had happened.
Lloyd looked dumbfounded. “The other Dells should be informed at once,” he said. They were in the small lounge – apparently holding a family counsel. “One would think,” grumbled Lloyd, “that the Royal was run specially for their benefit.”
“I should leave them where they are until the police arrive,” suggested Mannering mildly.
“I suppose the police will have to come again?”
“They’ll want to see Mr Geoffrey Dell,” said Mannering.
Lloyd raised his hands helplessly. “I’ve never encountered anything like this in all my experience as a manager! There seems to be an evil spell on the place. The guests will start to go if there’s any more of it.”
“It’ll die down,” said Mannering, soothingly. He booked a single room as near his own and Lorna’s as possible and went upstairs, wishing he could see Jeff for ten minutes before the police caught up with him. The possibility that Jeff had killed Kingham would obviously not be lost on Kay. A general call was probably out for Jeff already.
Mannering unlocked, and opened his door. As he did so Geoffrey Dell rose from an easy chair, taking his pipe from his mouth.
Chapter Ten
Jeff’s Story
Mannering closed the door and pushed the bolt home. Then he moved towards Jeff.
“Would it be considered excessive zeal if I enquired if you, too, are an expert lock picker?” he asked.
“Not at all,” said Jeff easily. “I borrowed the master-key from the maid’s room. Quite simple, really. But why this gloom?”
“There are complications,” said Mannering, deciding quickly that if he ignored the main issue he might discover more of what was going on. “Lloyd’s raising the roof about his car.”
“Oh, that,” said Jeff, off-handedly. “I will duly apologise – as a matter of fact I’d completely forgotten that I’d borrowed the wretched thing. Life having been somewhat hectic of late.”
“So I gathered,” said Mannering. “Nice of you to leave me in the lurch.”
“I like that! I came downstairs for you, but you weren’t in sight.”
“I left Kingham in your charge.”
“What, has he gone?”
“Yes,” said Mannering, ironically. “He’s gone, all right.”
“It shouldn’t be too difficult for the police to find him, if they think it’s worthwhile,” Jeff seemed to be untroubled. “And from what I saw, I should think it would be. If you want my personal opinion, the humble Mr Kingh
am is a fence of the first order. China happens to be my hobby, and I saw one or two pieces which I could swear are on the stolen list. Do you know anything about it?”
“A little,” said Mannering.
“Well, with or without boasting, I know a lot,” said Jeff, prodding into the bowl of his pipe.
For the first time Mannering gave serious thought to the possibility that this man had killed Kingham. Surely such nonchalance was overdone?
“There were more than one suspect pieces in that room I could swear,” he went on. “I didn’t mention it to Kingham, of course.”
“Tactful of you,” said Mannering drily.
“You are being the heavy father,” said Jeff, with a power of annoyance. “I don’t know that I like it. If you’re thinking of bringing me to heel by holding the threat of disclosure over my head and telling my brothers of my interest in their rooms, forget it. If necessary I will tell them myself.”
“It hadn’t occurred to me to try to bring you to heel,” said Mannering. “You asked for my help, and if you’re to have it you must play fair.”
“Of course I’ll play fair. I couldn’t find you before I left the shop, and I had to go in a hurry.”
“Why?”
“Urgent domestic crisis,” said Jeff. “Kingham had a telephone call, to say that the Old Man had had a seizure. I rang Dacres, and the only satisfaction I could get was from a maid, who said that the entire family, barring me, was round the bedside, so I decided that it was time I went along to join.” His voice held an undercurrent of seriousness. “I weighed up the situation. You were round and about, Kingham was in his own flat and we couldn’t very well force the truth out of him. There was very little point in my staying—”
“Now this just won’t do,” said Mannering severely. “Lloyd’s car was at the front. If you’d wanted to rush off to Dacres as you say you did, you would naturally have used it. I was on the pavement most of the time, talking to my wife. You could have had a word with me there. You wanted to avoid me and you went out the back way. Why?”
After a pause, Jeff said, half laughing. “Well! Well! Sharp as a needle.”
“A blunt pin would have pierced that story,” Mannering said drily. “What did Kingham say to you to make you leave so quickly?”
Jeff rubbed his chin.
“I wanted a word with the Old Man.”
“So you didn’t know about the seizure?”
“Oh, yes, that part was true.” Jeff took his pipe from his lips and pointed the stem towards Mannering. “The nail you hit on the head was when you said I wanted to avoid you. I did. I had to see the Old Man before talking to you again, so off I went. The back door was unlocked, and there are taxis. However, half-way to Dacres I met the family.
“What?” exclaimed Mannering.
“So I gathered that the emergency was past. I went on to the lodge, and saw the gardener. The report was fair – the Old Man was better, but allowed to see no one this afternoon. I had some lunch at a pub not far from Dacres and came back at my leisure. That, sir, is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”
“Why did you want to avoid me, even at the risk of leaving Kingham on his own?”
“Before I can tell you that,” said Jeff, “I must see the Old Man. Sorry, but that’s the position. Call it a point of honour if you like, but I shan’t alter the decision, even at the risk of losing your support.”
Mannering said slowly: “So when Kingham talked to you and persuaded you to leave him, he gave you good grounds for wanting to see your father before letting me know anything more.”
“If you must know, yes.”
“It’s a pity.”
“Oh, you needn’t take it to heart,” said Jeff. “I think I shall be able to spill the beans when I have conferred with the head of the clan, but not until then. After all, you’re working for him as well as with me, so it’s only a matter of postponement.”
“The difficulty,” said Mannering slowly, “is how to save you from being arrested for murder.”
Jeff stared at him in silence. There was no sound in, or immediately outside, the room. The atmosphere grew tense, and Jeff’s expression hardened, his smile disappeared, his jaw set. Mannering saw something of the real man, of the strength which he covered by an air of flippancy. The eyes, so like Montagu Dell’s, were hard as agates.
“Kingham was murdered after you left him and before I went back into the shop,” Mannering said simply.
Jeff put his pipe down very carefully. There was no doubt Mannering’s words had been a shock to him. He needed time both to assimilate the meaning of them, and to recover.
He said presently: “How was he killed?”
“Unpleasantly.”
“And I am on your list of suspects?”
“I have no list of suspects,” said Mannering. “That’s up to the police. I told a half truth about our reason for going to the shop. The girl there had already said you were left upstairs with Kingham. I could do nothing to prevent the police from finding that out. I said you were discussing business with him, and made no mention of the encounter here.”
“Strange reticence,” said Jeff, harshly. “Nicely calculated to make the police think the ‘business’ was probably the motive for murder.”
“No,” said Mannering, “but calculated to prevent the police from thinking that it might be connected with your father.”
“How could they think that?”
“They might see it the way that I do,” said Mannering. “If they knew that Kingham was looking for the pendant, they might believe that he was working for some person other than your father. They might even believe that Kingham knew where the pendant was, and your father wanted to make sure that he did not get it. Once the police start questioning him at Dacres, the fact that he employed Diver will probably come out. There’s bound to be unpleasantness. I took it for granted that you wanted to save him from the brunt of it.”
Jeff’s voice dropped to a more subdued note. “Yes, I want to save him from what I can. It—it’s knocked me sideways, Mannering. I suppose I am suspect Number 1.”
“Well, your behaviour has rather asked for it.”
“Exactly how?”
“Coming back furtively, and waiting for me here,” said Mannering. “There was no reason why you shouldn’t come in through the front door and leave a message for me.”
“There was a reason,” said Jeff, “but it might not satisfy the police. I wanted to avoid my brothers until I’d seen you. I am not very popular with them at the moment. Not only did I pass them by with a mere wave of the hand, I did not go to Dacres when I should have done. Families, even quite nice ones, are very censorious, you know. One has to become fairly adroit in avoiding it, or life would be intolerable.”
“From what I know of you, their disapproval would hardly break your heart.”
“It might very easily cause a serious quarrel. I don’t take kindly to the elder brother smugness of Mark and Charles. They have exasperated me down here beyond normal endurance, and the only safe way for me to prevent an open breach is to avoid them. I don’t want the Old Man unnecessarily worried.” When Mannering did not answer, he went on: “Believe it or not, that is the sole reason I didn’t let anyone know I was here.”
“You can’t keep away from them indefinitely.”
“I might even do that,” said Jeff. “I needn’t stay at the Royal, you know. In fact I was planning to clear out, and take up residence at a small place on the outskirts of the town. I would do that now but for Kingham’s death.”
“I’m glad you’ve that much sense,” said Mannering crisply. “It might help considerably if you told me what took you away from Kingham?”
“That little matter is one of family honour,” said Jeff, lightly.
“Family honour is going to get severely shaken in the near future,” said Mannering, “and I think the more I know the better it will be for you. This may become a job for Scotland Yard. If Bristow comes d
own again, and I think they would send him, I have the advantage—of knowing him.”
“And would confide in him,” said Jeff.
“Not necessarily.”
Jeff looked at him keenly.
Mannering went on: “I took a liking to your father, and I’m not a policeman, with a policeman’s allegiance to a code. What did Kingham say? Was it a form of blackmail?”
“What do you know?” Jeff demanded.
“Little or nothing, but I can add two and two.”
“I see.”
Jeff turned away and stood looking out of the window. He was, Mannering surmised, wondering how far he, Mannering, could be trusted. If he admitted that Kingham had been extorting blackmail, or even trying to, it would provide a strong motive against him and against Montagu Dell. The Old Man could not have committed the murder himself certainly, but he might have hired someone else to do it. For that matter, the whole family became suspect. There were wide differences of opinion among them and there was no love lost, but families were usually united in emergency. If one were suspected of murder, the others would probably band together to protect him. It was dangerous to accept everything that Jeff said as the absolute truth; much of it would be true, but on crucial points he might be lying.
If he refused to say anything more, the probability was that he had lied. Jeff turned round, slowly.
“Kingham told me that the Old Man had been buying stolen jewels for some time. He told me that unless I left him alone, unless I made you stop worrying him, he would see that the police knew about it. He showed me some receipts. They looked harmless enough, but in the light of Kingham’s statements they were ugly evidence that the jewels were bought by the Old Man with the full knowledge that they were stolen. I wanted to get my father’s side of the question before I went any further.”
“I see,” said Mannering.
“Now I suppose you’re shocked.”
Mannering laughed. “You’ve told me nothing that I did not suspect. One thing is obvious, however. The police will search Kingham’s records.”
