by Alan Hunter
‘I shall consider whether it is actionable – I assure you there will be some very unpleasant repercussions!’
Gently shrugged and took his seat, this time behind the steel desk.
‘There are other things which have unpleasant repercussions, Mr Marsh … withholding evidence is one of them, especially for gentlemen in your profession.’
‘Withholding evidence! What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean that certain information has been received concerning yourself and Mrs Lammas and the events of Friday night … information which, in the light of the interlude you are at present acting, I believe to be correct.’
‘Sir … I warn you to be careful!’
‘I assure you, Mr Marsh, that I shall be most careful.’
‘You are dealing with a solicitor now!’
‘The point had not escaped my notice.’
Marsh glanced down at Mrs Lammas as though he would rather have liked to free himself from her handicapping grapple, but she was much too firmly ensconced. He resigned himself to a part of injured nobility. Gently stubbed the bell-push on the desk.
‘I take it you will make a statement?’
‘I could refuse, sir, without the slightest prejudice.’
‘Naturally, I shall divulge the extent of my information.’
‘You can scarcely expect a statement unless you do.’
Mrs Lammas moaned faintly and disengaged her head from Marsh’s waistcoat.
‘Let me tell him, Henry … I’m the only one he cares about.’
‘No, Phyllis! You must say nothing further unless I advise it.’
‘He’s a devil, Henry … for God’s sake let me get it over with!’
‘We are not obliged to tell him anything except in explanation of this alleged information.’
There was a tap at the door and there entered a shorthand Constable and a plain-clothes man. They took up their positions obsequiously, although the plain-clothes man indulged in a hard, police-issue stare with its faint overtones of penal servitude. Mrs Lammas suddenly separated herself from her protector and went back to her chair. Marsh hitched up his trousers, looked round and took a seat nearer to the desk.
‘Your full name and address?’
Marsh rattled off particulars without the slightest need of prompting.
‘Now … the information is this. You, Henry George Marsh, have, since about Christmas of last year, enjoyed an intimate relationship with Phyllis Thais Lammas. Would you like to comment on that before I go any further?’
Marsh shook his head briefly and Gently continued:
‘On Friday, June 23rd, Phyllis Lammas went to her husband’s place of business in Norchester and there learned that he had realized his assets, that he had hired the yacht Harrier from June 17th till June 24th, that he was on terms suggesting intimacy with his secretary Linda Brent, and that Linda Brent had been absent from the office since she left it on June 17th midday. Following this discovery Phyllis Lammas made a telephone call of twenty minutes, which she attempted to conceal. It is suggested that she made the call to you.’
Gently paused again, and again Marsh confined himself to a shake of the head. Mrs Lammas, however, gave a little start and her small mouth shaped the word ‘Paul!’ Marsh made a gesture to her.
‘On Friday evening Phyllis Lammas drove from her home at “Willow Street”, Wrackstead to Halford Quay, where she made inquiries after the whereabouts of the yacht Harrier, her husband and Linda Brent. She then drove to your private house, “High Meadows”, at Ollby. She was alleged to be there from just after half-past seven till just before half-past nine p.m. I will not have to remind you that during that time her husband, James William Lammas, was shot and killed at a distance of not more than half a mile from “High Meadows” and an attempt made to dispose of his body.
‘This is my information as it affects you … I think you will see the necessity of giving a complete and accurate statement of all that took place that evening.’
Marsh took his time. He was clearly not a person to be rattled. With his fingertips placed together he had listened intently to what was said and now he was examining it, testing it and adding up its implications.
A tough nut he’d be for a prosecution to crack.
At last he was ready. One hand clenched and struck firmly into the other.
‘As regards the first part of your information, I do not propose to make a statement.’
Gently nodded. He hadn’t really expected one.
‘Mrs Lammas stands to me in the relation of a client to her solicitor. That is all I have to say about that. But with regard to the remainder, I am not so unreasonable as to offer no explanation, though I have no intention of going further than what you say seems to require.
‘It will be unfortunate, Mr Marsh, if you withold anything material.’
‘I shall use my discretion, sir, as to what I consider material.’
Gently shrugged and made a gesture. It wasn’t everyone who took the trouble to warn you.
‘I have said that Mrs Lammas stands to me in the relation of a client to her solicitor. It was therefore not unnatural that she should contact me after learning that her husband had illegally realized the capital of the firm of Lammas Wholesalers, Limited, in which, you will be pleased to remember, she is a shareholder, though a small one. She had also to discuss the consequences of his apparent disappearance in the company of his secretary.’
‘Excuse me, Mr Marsh … but was it so natural to discuss these matters on the telephone?’
‘I was merely given the heads, sir—’
‘Wouldn’t she have called in, or made an appointment?’
‘Certainly. And an appointment was made.’
‘And that was the whole substance of a twenty-minute call?’
Marsh hesitated, but it was only the hesitation of a master-fencer who discretely withdraws from an awkward position.
‘There was, of course, subsidiary matter … we are all human, all liable to emotion in time of stress. I do not think the subsidiary matter is relevant to the present purpose.’
‘You were not surprised, then, that she didn’t straight away call on you at your office … it isn’t far from her husband’s … directly she made this distressing discovery? Or for that matter that she didn’t straight away phone?’
Marsh hesitated again, but still on perfect balance.
‘That is something my client must answer. I have no doubt she will. I have no doubt that when you put the question to her she will tell you that at the time of the discovery she was completely stunned and unable to think out a coherent course of action. I would not be surprised to hear my client give such an answer to such a question.’
Gently nodded admiringly. ‘Thank you, Mr Marsh. I must remember to ask her! Would you continue your statement?’
Marsh rubbed his hands as though rinsing from them the previous issue.
‘My client’s problem was pressing and required immediate attention. Unfortunately I was engaged at the time she called me, which would be at about 4 p.m., so I consented to see her in the evening at my residence. This is an unusual but not an unprecedented occurrence. A lawyer, like a doctor, must be prepared to see his clients at irregular hours. The appointment, as you have been informed, was for half-past seven and for approximately the next two hours Mrs Lammas and myself were engaged in a consultation, details of which will not concern you. She apprised me, however, of the inquiries she had made at Halford. She had undertaken them to confirm, if possible, what she had learned in the morning. With reference to the frightful tragedy taking place across the marshes, we neither knew of it nor saw anything to report. For this reason I advised my client, when the fact became known, to say nothing of a visit to a spot in such close proximity to the scene of the crime, a circumstance which must lay her open to quite unwarranted suspicion and interference.
‘This, sir, is the extent to which I have withheld evidence or caused it to be withheld. I think you mu
st agree that I have transgressed neither against the law nor against the code of my profession, and that it was as unnecessary as unworthy to play this trick of yours on my respectable and bereaved client, Mrs James William Lammas.’
It was well done, and he knew it was well done. He placed his fingertips together again and sat back a little in his chair. Gently grunted and twisted a spill of paper he had been working up. A good story, even if it did leave out a few of the facts!
‘This place of yours … “High Meadows” … it’s quite a substantial property, isn’t it?’
‘A desirable small residence. I suppose you could call it that.’
‘Six or eight bedrooms, perhaps … I’ve only seen it from the road.’
‘There are eight bedrooms, if you wish to be precise.’
‘You’d need one or two domestics, eh?’
Marsh saw it coming, but he couldn’t prevent it. He did the next best thing and took it by the horns.
‘There are three who live in, but they cannot confirm my statement. They happened to be out on the evening in question.’
Gently’s eyebrows lifted. ‘You mean all three together?’
‘Yes. I had given them tickets for a show in Norchester.’
It was smoothly said, but there was anxiety underneath it. Gently was watching the hands grow white above the knuckles.
‘When did you give them the tickets, Mr Marsh?’
‘At tea-time, I believe.’
‘That was after you had spoken with Mrs Lammas on the phone – after you had returned from the office, in fact?’
‘It was, but I had planned the treat earlier.’
‘You mean that they were looking forward to it?’
‘No … I kept it for a surprise.’
‘Then in view of Mrs Lammas’ appointment you could easily have cancelled it?’
Marsh shifted his expensive brogues. ‘I’m afraid it was out of my mind … when I had given them the tickets, I realized that I ought not to have done. But you will be kind enough to remember that I was not expecting police investigation. It was not likely to become known that Mrs Lammas visited me when I was alone.’
‘It has become known now, Mr Marsh, and I am not quite happy about the details. What show was this your servants went to?’
‘It was a musical entertainment … The King’s Rhapsody was the title. I really must protest at this irrelevant cross-examination!’
‘At “The Theatre Royal”?’
‘Yes, at “The Theatre Royal”.’
‘When did you obtain the three tickets?’
‘I picked them up on my way from the office.’
‘You mean in the afternoon, after you had spoken to Mrs Lammas on the phone?’
‘Naturally … but I had booked the seats by phone earlier.’
‘How much earlier – was it in the morning?’
‘No … I think not.’
‘It was during the afternoon, then?’
‘Yes, it would have been the afternoon.’
‘But before you had your talk with Mrs Lammas?’
‘I … cannot exactly remember.’
‘Then it was after you had your talk with Mrs Lammas?’
‘I have said I cannot exactly remember! My mind was greatly taken up with matters of business … no doubt I utilized some spare moments, but when it is impossible to say.’
‘This is humiliating!’
Mrs Lammas had risen to her feet.
‘Henry, I will not permit you to be harried and questioned like this on my behalf!’
There was emotion in her face now.
‘Don’t you see that he’s going to know these things, in spite of you, in spite of me? How do you know what he’s got up his sleeve! He’ll have already checked with “The Theatre Royal” booking-office and heaven knows where else – he just sits there playing with us, knowing it all – ready to pounce on the slightest evasion!’
‘Phyllis …!’ Marsh put out a restraining hand.
‘I don’t care, Henry! I hate it. I hate them. The police are filthy, filthy, filthy! How can we call this a civilization when we have dirty people like this living amongst us – people who can tyrannize and dictate and make us submit to their sadistic prying? Tell them what they want to know! Tell them, and let us be rid of them! I’ve felt sick ever since I set foot in this place and if I don’t get out soon, I shall be sick!’
Even Marsh didn’t know what to say in the silence that followed. An outburst like this was not envisaged by the rules of the game.
Gently twisted his spill round a stubby finger.
‘Of course, our sadistic spying relates to two sadistic civilian murders …’
‘You are worse than they! A hangman is the moral inferior of a murderer!’
‘But a murderer is no great shakes …’
‘At least he has the courage of his crime!’
Marsh cleared his throat. His impressive features seemed to have grown tighter, gaunter.
‘Phyllis, you really must control yourself and let me handle this matter. You are making a great mistake to allow this man to unsettle you.’
‘I will speak, Henry! I can’t keep silent any longer.’
‘You are giving him a quite gratuitous advantage.’
‘I don’t care any more. I just want to get out of this beastly place!’
‘Please remember that you may involve another person.’
‘He could not be more involved than he is at present.’
‘I cannot agree with you—’
‘I’m sorry, Henry. I’ve had as much as I can stand.’
She came to the front of the desk and stood there, her head and shoulders barely rising above it. Marsh’s hands were tightly clasped together. His eyes were fixed on her appealingly.
‘Please instruct your man to take this down, Chief Inspector Gently.’
‘I think I ought to warn you that it may be used as evidence.’
‘Use it for what you like – but for heaven’s sake take it down!’
Gently nodded to the shorthand Constable, who had got rather put out by the preceding exchanges.
‘You want to know if Henry and me are lovers. Very well – we are! We have been in love since Christmas, as your informant very accurately told you. I take it that it was Paul? My son discovered this and threatened me. He threatened to tell my husband, unless the affair was terminated. If my husband had come to know of it he would undoubtedly have divorced me – so there is your motive, inspector! I had not the slightest intention of being divorced.
‘I have admitted going to the office on Friday and to discovering how matters stood. I now admit to the telephone call, in which I arranged to meet Henry in the evening, if I could shake off Paul. The call was not made from the office owing to the presence of the head clerk and I didn’t go to see Henry because I knew Paul was following me about. In the evening I was foolish enough to believe I had got rid of him, so I set out in my Rover. Before I went I spoke to Hicks. I instructed him to let me know immediately if my husband got in touch with him … my husband had just bought a new Daimler and I thought it unlikely that he would leave it behind.’
‘Just a moment, please!’ Gently was leaning forward. ‘What else did you tell Hicks … he was a confidential servant, wasn’t he?’
‘I told him what I thought necessary. Hicks is very loyal and discreet.’
‘Did you tell him what had happened at the business?’
‘I wanted him to understand the seriousness of the affair.’
‘What I’m getting at, Mrs Lammas, is whether or not he knew that your husband might have a large sum of money in his possession.’
‘I didn’t tell him so, but I suppose he could have deduced it from what I did tell him.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Lammas … please continue your statement.’
‘Before going to Ollby I went to Halford Quay. It had occurred to me that if my husband were returning with the Harrier he would be in the neighbourhood
of Halford Quay. As you have taken such pains to find out, I did get news of him, and this confirmed what I had discovered at the office. So I continued to “High Meadows” … you were quite correct in assuming that Henry got rid of the servants on purpose.
‘I arrived there at twenty minutes to eight. We discussed the situation and what I was to do. Shortly before nine o’clock—’
Marsh was on his feet. There was a tinge of pallor in his hitherto ruddy complexion.
‘Phyllis, I protest! What you are going to say is positively suicidal!’
She turned to him coldly. ‘I am going to tell him all, Henry.’
‘But this is unnecessary … there is no need for them to know it! I beg you to stop a moment and consider the implications!’
‘Mr Marsh … you will kindly sit down.’ Gently’s voice sounded stony.
‘Sir, I have a right to consult with my client!’
‘But not to hinder a witness.’
‘She is about to incriminate both of us wilfully!’
‘It will rest on her evidence – sit down, sir, or I must have you removed.’
The plain-clothes sergeant half-rose to give colour to the warning and Marsh sank back, almost involuntarily, into his chair.
‘Go on, Mrs Lammas.’
Marsh groaned and held a hand to his face.
‘I was saying that shortly before nine o’clock we were a little alarmed to hear a car approaching the house. Henry peeped out and saw that it was my husband’s Daimler with Hicks at the wheel. He had come to tell me that my husband had rung for him, and that he was just going to pick up Mr Lammas and his luggage from the yacht, which was moored at the head of Ollby Dyke.’
‘He told you where the yacht was?’
‘I have just said that he did.’
‘But when you knew that, wouldn’t you have gone down to the yacht with Hicks with the purpose of frustrating your husband’s plan to disappear?’
‘God help you, Phyllis!’ exclaimed Marsh. ‘I tried to warn you what you would let yourself in for!’
Mrs Lammas shrugged impatiently. ‘It is reasonably plain why I did not! In the first place, I began to doubt whether my husband really intended more than an illicit week with his mistress. I had never expected him to do more than ask Hicks to leave the Daimler at a garage for him. In the second place, he could not be out of my sight while he was with Hicks. Hicks would have kept me constantly informed of his movements.’
