Gently Where the Birds Are

by Alan Hunter

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Oh yes. This will be one of Ka’s little antics. Isn’t that so, Lionel?’

  Lionel Easton hesitated. ‘She may have been teasing Dick, Mums.’

  ‘Of course she was! The poor lamb is smitten with her, and she teases him high and low.’

  ‘All the same . . . she wasn’t there, you know.’

  ‘Pooh! You’ve only her word for that.’

  ‘And Phil’s.’

  ‘Phil is sweet on her too. He’d jump off the cliffs, if she asked him.’

  There was silence. Mrs Easton’s blue eyes were glinting, as though there was more that she could say. Her son’s eyes were smiling, but his lips were tight. Cosmo Easton’s plump face was merely plump.

  ‘Of course, you know Mr Rushmere quite well . . .?’

  Nobody rushed to answer the question. At last Cosmo Easton gestured a ringed hand. ‘He used to work for a subsidiary of ours in Eastwich.’

  ‘A subsidiary . . .?’

  ‘Bramford Engineering. He’s an engineering draughtsman by profession. He had some trouble, a nervous breakdown. Afterwards he took this job here.’

  ‘What sort of trouble?’

  Cosmo Easton shrugged.

  ‘Wife trouble,’ Mrs Easton said waspishly. ‘We knew her, Hattie Rushmere. She nearly drove poor Phil dotty. She was hysterical and violent with it, the sort that try to destroy their men. She darned nearly succeeded. If you’ve talked to Phil you must have noticed how he is.’

  ‘But they’re living apart now?’

  ‘Of course. She went off with an oil man, a proper thug. Phil was six months under treatment, then Cosmo got him appointed here.’

  ‘The post seemed made for him,’ Cosmo Easton said modestly. ‘Painting birds had always been his hobby. He wanted to live alone, to find some peace. I’m glad to say it’s worked out very well.’

  ‘And now Miss Stoven provides consolation.’

  Cosmo Easton looked down his nose. ‘They’re friendly, of course. She’s a keen birdwatcher. I’m not sure that it goes further than that.’

  ‘Oh Cosmo, it does!’ Mrs Easton exclaimed.

  ‘Perhaps you would know better than I do, my dear.’

  ‘Yes – I would. You men are blind. He worships the very mud on her boots.’ She flicked her hair. ‘She isn’t worth it, of course, and he’s a fool to be taken in. Once or twice I’ve tried to drop him a hint, but Phil was born to be an ass about women.’

  ‘Of course, there’s an age difference . . .’ Gently prompted.

  ‘Yes. That makes it even worse. Phil is forty-seven, she’s twenty-nine. The poor fool worships her like an idol. And of course she basks in it, and who can blame her? But one day she’ll let him down with a bang. Some young fellow will come along, and Phil will be out on his ear.’

  ‘You think that . . .?’

  ‘I’m certain of it. The pity is that Phil can’t see it. He’s never properly got over his other trouble, and here he is, sticking his neck out again.’

  Gently nodded. ‘He could go to pieces.’

  ‘I’m afraid it’s only too likely,’ Mrs Easton sighed. ‘It’s a shame, but what can one say? Some people seem born to disaster.’

  ‘I’m not so sure you’re right, Mums,’ Lionel Easton ventured. ‘After all, Dick is stuck on the Dryad.’

  ‘Yes, but she treats him as a joke,’ Mrs Easton said. ‘It makes Phil feel the in-man. But for how long?’

  ‘But Cora, there’s this other young man,’ Cosmo Easton objected. ‘The one who all the fuss is about. If Dick’s to be believed, he was staying with Ka, and Phil didn’t seem upset over that.’

  ‘Then he didn’t know,’ Mrs Easton said decidedly. ‘Ka was keeping him out of sight.’

  Her husband shook his head. ‘That doesn’t sound like Ka. She’s always been a one for shaming the devil.’

  * * *

  This time the silence in the lounge was longer; one could hear the greasy ticking of a clock on the mantel. Cosmo Easton, whose remark had provoked the lapse, sat plumply staring at his well-shod feet. His wife appeared to be inspecting her hands, which she had spread on her knees. They were beautiful hands. Along with a wedding ring she wore another in which the stones were impressive. At last Lionel Easton looked up.

  ‘I suppose, sir, you know who this fellow is . . .?’

  Gently let the question hang a moment before returning: ‘Don’t you know?’

  ‘No sir – I told you. I’ve never met him.’

  ‘That’s not quite the same thing, is it?’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘You may have heard him spoken of. You too are a friend of Miss Stoven’s.’

  ‘But she never mentioned him.’

  ‘She knew Dick Easton had seen him. You were on the phone to her after that.’

  ‘But that was simply to invite her over – Dick was here—!’

  ‘I mean after he’d gone.’

  Lionel Easton simply looked puzzled. ‘But I haven’t phoned her again since then – that is, not except on Saturday, when we phoned to see if she was in.’

  ‘Then didn’t you meet her somewhere – say on Friday evening?’

  ‘No. I didn’t see her at all.’

  ‘On Saturday morning?’

  ‘You must believe me! Until Saturday teatime I didn’t see her.’

  Gently grunted incredulously. ‘Then Mr Rushmere – perhaps you saw him at one of those times?’

  Lionel Easton shook his head. ‘I don’t understand. I didn’t see either of them until they called here.’

  Was he telling the truth? He had an air of such frankness that one couldn’t avoid a qualm of scepticism. And with the same honest, open expression he had told his lies that morning . . .

  ‘Perhaps you’ll account for your movements last weekend. Beginning with Friday.’

  ‘Certainly. I was in Eastwich on Friday. I drove home with father after business and stayed in all evening.’

  ‘But you had a caller.’

  ‘Well . . . Dick. Dick is always in and out. He told me what he’d seen at the cottage. He was very upset about it.’

  ‘Where was the conversation held?’

  ‘In the garage . . . I was tinkering with Floradora.’

  ‘Who else was present?’

  ‘Nobody. Mother and Father were in the house.’

  ‘Your domestic . . . gardener?’

  He shook his head. ‘Mavis was in the scullery – we could see her. The gardener knocks off at four. Really, there was no one but Dick and I.’

  Gently held his eye. ‘This is important! Did you mention to anyone what he told you?’

  ‘No – nobody! I mean, he might have been mistaken . . . and I didn’t want to start gossip about the Dryad.’

  ‘Dick is such a woolly young lamb!’ Mrs Easton interposed. ‘You have to think twice before taking him seriously. And of course he’s mushy about Ka – it might have been the vicar he saw at the cottage.’

  ‘He did describe him as a young man, Mums.’

  ‘All the same, it could have been quite innocent. Someone collecting or selling insurance. It would take Dick to blow it up into a scandal.’

  Lionel Easton moved his neat shoulders. ‘Anyway, I didn’t pass it on! But old Dick had got so worked up that I thought it would be amusing to josh him a bit. So I pretended to take him in. I knew Ka would want to see the Osborne report. I suggested inviting her over while Dick did a spot of investigating.’

  ‘It was your idea?’ Gently asked.

  ‘Oh yes. Old Dick wouldn’t have been so devious. But he fell for it, and we rang up Ka, and she agreed to come over after lunch next day.’

  ‘She agreed quite freely?’

  Lionel Easton paused. ‘I had to persuade her a bit,’ he admitted. ‘I pretended that the report had to go back on Monday, and that on Sunday father would be working on it.’

  ‘Did you get the impression that someone might be with her?’

  ‘No, I didn�
�t hear anyone else. But Ka was talking sort of hesitantly, picking her words. That was all.’

  ‘Carry on.’

  ‘Well, I thought Dick would cool, but he was still upset the next morning. In fact he would have liked to have gone off then to keep a watch on the cottage. But I laughed him out of that and made him sit around while I skinned the waxwing. Actually, I was getting a bit concerned. I felt he was working himself up to do something foolish.’

  ‘It didn’t occur to you to persuade him to drop it.’

  ‘I don’t think I could have done, sir, at that point. You see, he could sense that I wasn’t convinced about the fellow, and he was determined to come back with a photograph.’

  ‘In fact he was conditioned to do just that.’

  Lionel Easton stared for a moment. ‘You could say that, sir, and perhaps I’m to blame. But I didn’t intend to egg him on as far as I did.’

  ‘Yet you could scarcely have done it better.’

  ‘I can only repeat, sir, that it wasn’t my intention. Honestly, I thought he would have backed out after he’d had a chance to sleep on it.’

  Gently grunted. ‘You were at home all the morning?’

  ‘Yes of course. My parents can vouch for me.’

  ‘That’s so, Superintendent,’ Cosmo Easton responded. ‘Nobody went out before lunch on Saturday.’

  ‘How many phone calls were made?’

  ‘Well . . . we can try to add them up for you,’ Cosmo Easton said. ‘I rang the golf club at Wolmering, for a start, and my works manager, and Sandy Lodge.’

  ‘And I rang the butcher,’ Mrs Easton said brightly. ‘And Lady Fulcher, who I called on after lunch. But Lionel was in his den with Dick till lunchtime. I don’t see how he can have made any calls.’

  ‘Did you?’ Gently asked him.

  ‘No – none!’ Lionel Easton sat very straight. ‘Sir, I can guess what you’re thinking, but it isn’t so. I had no part in it.

  ‘Wasn’t it you who primed Middleton to go spying with a camera?’

  ‘I’ve admitted that, sir, and I’ll take the blame. But I had nothing to do with faking the body, and I know nothing about who did.’

  ‘Then can you explain how it all worked so neatly?’

  ‘No sir. Only that it wasn’t through me.’

  ‘How could it have worked at all – without you?’

  ‘Sir, I don’t know. But that’s how it was.’

  Now his eyes were large and painfully steady, and for once there was a dash of colour in each cheek. His easy pose had stiffened, had become something more fragile. Cosmo Easton’s hand fluttered.

  ‘I realize you have to be severe, Superintendent, but Lionel is certainly telling the truth. He made no contacts other than Dick.’

  ‘Perhaps you can explain the mystery, then,’ Gently growled.

  ‘I! I only wish I could.’

  ‘Then be kind enough not to interrupt this interview.’

  Cosmo Easton coloured but held his peace.

  ‘So,’ Gently resumed. ‘All that morning you succeeded in keeping Middleton in check.’

  Lionel Easton winced slightly. ‘Yes sir. If that’s how you care to put it.’

  ‘He was being reserved for the afternoon.’

  ‘That was how we planned it, sir. To get Ka away from the cottage. We didn’t want her to catch Dick spying.’

  ‘Carry on.’

  Lionel Easton wet his lips. ‘Dick went to lunch at twelve. We had an early lunch too, because Father and Mother were going out. So when he came back I was alone. But I hadn’t rung or talked to anyone. I had brought my coffee in here . . . I was watching the TV soccer preview.’

  ‘At what time did he arrive?’

  ‘It was soon after one. Mavis let him in at the back. He was all togged up with his camera and gear, just as though he were going down to the reserve. I wanted him to watch the programme for a bit, but he was in too much of a state for that. Anyway, I made him sit down and drink some coffee. I was kidding him along, trying to smooth him down.’

  ‘What gear did he have with him?’

  ‘His camera and lenses, and binoculars.’

  ‘Nothing else?’

  Lionel Easton stared.

  ‘Say something bulky in one of his pockets?’

  ‘I . . . I don’t think so.’ His mouth opened and shut. ‘You’re not suggesting . . . a gun?’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘I . . . it’s fantastic!’

  ‘Did you see something?’

  ‘No, I didn’t! Dick was wearing his Greenspot jacket, and there was nothing bulky in the pockets.’

  ‘Or under the jacket?’

  ‘No – nothing! And I would certainly have noticed a thing like that.’ But the fiery spots were back in his cheeks, and his eyes for a moment had a curious expression.

  ‘Has your friend ever owned a gun, then?’

  ‘Of course not! Dick would never shoot anything.’

  ‘All guns are not used for shooting birds. Some are intended for target practice.’

  ‘But . . . Dick just isn’t interested in guns.’

  ‘If Dick isn’t, who is?’

  ‘I . . . nobody – nobody around here. People simply don’t go in for guns at Grimchurch.’

  ‘They’re the ultimate form of sin,’ Mrs Easton smiled. ‘Anyone who owned a gun would be ostracized. Cosmo used to shoot pheasants in his wild Air Force days, but now he only shoots birdies on the greens.’

  ‘And I’m ashamed I ever did it,’ Cosmo Easton said tightly. ‘I don’t like to remember that I ever killed for sport.’

  ‘But the stricture wouldn’t apply to target-guns.’

  ‘Yes, because one thing can lead to another. There’s only one gun I know of in Grimchurch, and that’s kept strictly for shooting vermin.’

  ‘But there is one . . .?’

  Cosmo Easton looked sulky. ‘Phil Rushmere keeps a four-ten. He had to rid the reserve of coypu, and there’s always a danger of others turning up.’

  ‘Just a four-ten?’

  ‘A four-ten is good enough. When you’re as quiet on the move as Phil is.’

  Gently nodded and returned to Lionel Easton. ‘But you should know that Mr Rushmere has a gun?’

  ‘I . . . I . . . well!’ Lionel Easton stammered. ‘I didn’t realize you meant that sort of a gun.’

  * * *

  ‘Carry on.’

  Once more the ball was remorselessly laid at the young man’s feet. But now his confident poise was fading and he seemed reluctant to continue play.

  ‘Well . . . Dick went.’

  ‘What time was that?’

  ‘I suppose it was close on two.’

  ‘Could you be more accurate?’

  ‘No – not really! I kept him talking, like I told you. But he was determined to go through with it, and in the end he stalked out.’

  ‘Going which way?’

  ‘The cliff way, of course. I went with him down the garden. Then I came back into the house and got the report out, ready for Ka.’

  ‘During that time you would be alone.’

  ‘Well . . . yes. But there was Mavis.’

  ‘You were in her company?’

  ‘Not actually! She came in here to collect the cups.’

  ‘But that was all – she collected the cups?’

  ‘So she knew I was here – watching television.’

  ‘Where do you keep your phone?’

  ‘There’s one down the hall, and one in the study.’

  Gently paused. ‘You know, I think you’d have rung Miss Stoven,’ he said. ‘She seemed reluctant when you invited her. You’d want to make sure she was on her way.’

  ‘But I didn’t – honestly!’

  ‘You rang nobody?’

  ‘No – you simply must believe me. I know I can’t prove it, but it’s true. I came back in here to watch the boxing.’

  ‘The boxing?’

  ‘The Strachey fight – the world champions
hip. José Napoles.’

  Gently nodded woodenly. ‘And you were still watching it when Middleton returned?’

  ‘Not the boxing. That was over. Then it was racing . . . Haydock Park.’

  ‘About when?’

  ‘I don’t know. Yes . . . wait! It was the two-thirty. It had just finished when he came in – the two-thirty at Haydock Park!’

  ‘Carry on.’

  Lionel Easton took breath, his eyes no longer meeting Gently’s. The flush spots on his cheeks were spreading to his close-set ears.

  ‘He was puffed when he got here. He threw himself down on that chair. He was looking ghastly . . . what he said was “Nellie, someone’s shot him – but it wasn’t me!”’

  ‘Nellie being your nickname.’

  ‘Yes sir.’

  ‘And those his exact words.’

  Lionel Easton nodded helplessly. ‘I can still hear him saying it . . .’

  Gently checked briefly. ‘And did you believe him?’

  ‘Sir. . .?’

  ‘When he said he hadn’t done it?’

  Lionel Easton’s eyes were pitiful. ‘Sir . . . I didn’t believe any of it!’

  ‘But by your own account he was very disturbed when he went off to the cottage – and he came back “looking ghastly”. Surely you had some reason to doubt?’

  Lionel Easton swayed a little. ‘Sir . . . I didn’t . . . it didn’t occur to me! It was so . . . grotesque. Right at that moment I couldn’t really take it in.’

  ‘But when you did?’

  ‘Then I thought that Dick believed it . . . that someone had played him a trick. Not . . . the other. I just didn’t think it . . . it wasn’t possible. Not Dick!’

  Gently gestured boredly. ‘So what did he tell you?’

  ‘He told me he’d heard the fellow being chased . . . then a shot. And when he got there the fellow was dead, shot through the head.’

  ‘Did he tell you who was chasing him?’

  ‘He didn’t see who! And when he got there the other man had vanished. Dick was scared, he didn’t hang about. He took the photograph and raced back here.’

  ‘A natural reaction.’

  ‘Yes – for Dick. And I would have done the same thing.’ Lionel Easton stared with a flash of defiance. ‘Perhaps you ought to be grateful that he took that photograph.’

  Gently hunched. ‘So you decided he’d been tricked.’