The Corpse at the Crystal Palace

by Carola Dunn

  “I must have been mad,” he grumbled. “Explain to Fletcher that you bullied me into it.” He kissed her cheek and loped down the steps with a farewell wave.

  She closed the door and pushed down the locking button. As she took off her gloves, she noticed that the light was on in the narrow hall leading back beyond the stairs, not usually left burning at night. Investigating, she saw that the door of the small sitting room was ajar, with a light on inside.

  Though not normally of a nervous disposition, she had the mysterious death of Teddy Devenish on her mind, as well as the mysterious actions of Mrs. Gilpin and her present state of mental disorder. Daisy crept forward and peeped round the door.

  Alec! He sprawled in his favourite armchair, fast asleep. Looking down at him, she was reminded of the time at Wentwater Court, shortly after their first meeting, when he had drifted off with his boots on in the middle of a strenuous double investigation. Was that the moment when she had fallen in love with him? She wasn’t sure, but by the time the two cases ended with him furiously angry at her, she had known she badly wanted to see him again.

  His hair was still crisp and dark, but now threaded with silver, and the tired lines in his face were not all temporary. Crow’s-feet punctuated the closed eyes that would open to a steely grey capable of freezing malefactors with a single glance.

  He wasn’t much over forty, she reassured herself, still young. Dark hair often did turn white or silver early. He needed a holiday. Assuming he had wrapped up the Bristol case, perhaps they could go away for a few days.

  Probably not, given that she was mixed up in the Devenish investigation. She sighed.

  TWELVE

  Without moving a muscle, Alec snapped to attention, certain that someone was in the room with him. Where was he?

  Ah, at home. He opened his eyes.

  “Daisy, where the deuce have you been?”

  “Didn’t Elsie tell you?”

  “Some folderol about the theatre and Petrie.”

  “I didn’t know you were coming home today. Last night.”

  “I didn’t have time to send a telegram. We wrapped up the case unexpectedly and caught the express by the skin of our teeth. But it’s nearly one. No theatre stays open this late.”

  “We joined Phillip’s sister and her husband for a bite of supper afterwards,” Daisy explained disingenuously. “We went to the Kit-Cat. Not for long. You know I hate dancing. I was thinking I might suggest an article on London nightclubs to Mr. Thorwald, but from Phil’s description of American nightclubs, he wouldn’t be interested.”

  Alec was no longer in the least sleepy. “And?”

  “What do you mean, ‘and’? I didn’t want to dance and Phil has to depart at break of day to visit a car factory in Oxford, so we left early. By their standards.”

  “Daisy, when you use that tone of voice with that ingenuous face, there’s always an ‘and.’ Spit it out.”

  “We-ell…” She perched on the arm of his chair and he put his arm round her waist. “You went to the Yard before coming home?”

  “I did. I’ve read Mackinnon’s report.”

  “And?”

  He couldn’t help laughing. “And he wants the Yard’s help, given the deceased’s lack of ties to his division and his social prominence. You identified him, I gather.”

  “Tom Tring recognised him, too. Did Mr. Crane put you in charge?”

  “He asked me if I was willing. And he asked Mackinnon whether he had any objection, given your involvement.”

  “He asked? Don’t tell me he’s softening in his old age!”

  “He’s put in for retirement, which sometimes has that effect.”

  “Oh, Alec, will you—”

  “Don’t say it. It depends on the powers that be, and I’m not sure I should accept if it were offered to me. It’s a very different life.”

  “You’d be at home much more,” Daisy said reproachfully.

  “That’s the positive side. Let’s not discuss it now. I’m tired.”

  “All right. But are you going to take over from Mackinnon?”

  “I’m taking charge, yes.”

  She sighed. “Then I suppose I’d better tell you what I found out tonight.”

  “I knew it!”

  “Someone happened to mention that Teddy Devenish had been pursuing one of the cabaret performers. I didn’t say anything to suggest his name, honestly. But knowing what I know, you could hardly expect me just to let it pass.”

  “No,” he admitted resignedly. “Knowing you, I wouldn’t expect that. What did you do?”

  He was not surprised to learn that she had gone backstage to talk to the young woman. Nor was he surprised that, despite Miss Fanshawe’s excellent reason for holding a grudge against Devenish, Daisy was quite certain she couldn’t possibly have murdered him. She sounded like just the sort of young woman his tenderhearted wife was bound to take under her wing.

  “I suppose you’ll have to talk to her,” she said. “I’d hate her to think I gave her away.”

  “I’ll send Mackinnon. He doesn’t need to know you found the connection.”

  “He’ll guess.”

  “That’s the penalty of being notorious in police circles.”

  “Oh, darling! Though he can’t actually tell her I reported her if it’s only a guess, can he? Isn’t it against the rules or something?”

  “Hm, I don’t know that there’s a specific rule, love, but I shouldn’t worry too much that he’ll give you away. Only, for pity’s sake, don’t ever again have a midnight meeting with a possible murderer!”

  “She would hardly dare do me in in her own dressing room.”

  “That’s debatable.”

  “Besides, she’s quite small.”

  “Strong for her size, if she’s a good acrobat. And she must surely understand her own body well, even if she has no formal knowledge of anatomy. The murderer must have had some idea of what he or she was doing.”

  “I suppose so,” Daisy said doubtfully.

  “She didn’t happen to give you the names of any other friends, acquaintances, or victims of Teddy Devenish?”

  “I couldn’t very well ask her.”

  “No, I’m glad to know you had so much sense!” Alec yawned hugely and levered himself out of his chair. “Come on, it’s long past my bedtime.”

  “You haven’t got a bedtime. Acquiring one would be another advantage of becoming superintendent.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up. They may not offer me the post.”

  “Tommyrot! You’re the best. Of course they will.”

  Alec kissed her and they went upstairs arm in arm.

  Later, when he was drifting into sleep, his pertinacious wife asked, “Darling, did you look in on Nanny Gilpin?”

  “No. Mackinnon’s going to have to handle her. The twins seem to be all right with Bertha?”

  “Perfectly all right. She’s learnt a lot from Mrs. G. What I’m wondering—”

  “I’ll wonder in the morning, love. Sleep tight.”

  * * *

  He had forgotten about the children. Though he had told Elsie to call him early, Bel, Ben, and Charlie reached the breakfast table before him, bright-eyed and bursting to tell their story.

  For the most part, it varied only in wording from what they had told DI Mackinnon, though much more vivid than any police report was ever allowed to be. The excitement of the chase, the colourful crowds inside and the nearly deserted park, the shock of finding Mrs. Gilpin injured, all became almost real to Alec, as recounted in their eager young voices.

  He picked up a couple of details new to him, too, forgotten at the time or omitted as irrelevant from Mackinnon’s report. Belinda said she had seen no hat pin in the second nurse’s hat, the “nurse” presumed to have murdered Devenish and attacked Mrs. Gilpin. She had noticed the hat because it had made her sure the woman was not Nanny Gilpin.

  “I couldn’t see her face, you see, Daddy, because we were up above on the stairs. But I kn
ow Nurse was wearing her felt with the black rose hat pin. She has a different pin she wears with her caps. The other nurse, the one who was running away, her hat was a sort of shiny straw. She didn’t have a pin at all.”

  “Are you quite certain, pet?”

  She gave him a look. “As certain as I can be. Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence.”

  “Ye gods, where did you learn that?” Many adults—many policemen!—didn’t properly grasp that concept.

  “I read it somewhere. It makes sense. Isn’t it true?”

  “Yes, in an absolute sense, but we police are human and often have to work with the preponderance of the evidence.”

  “What—”

  “You’ll have to look it up.”

  “She didn’t have a handbag, either,” said Charlie.

  “She didn’t?” Had there been any mention of a handbag in the report? Alec thought not, but he’d been so tired he could have missed it. “Bel? Ben?”

  “I didn’t see one,” Ben said cautiously.

  “Nor did I, Daddy. I noticed, but I’d forgotten. I thought it was odd at the time, because grown-up ladies always carry a handbag. Almost always.”

  “Do you recall exactly when you noticed, Bel? Right away?”

  “No, I couldn’t see her properly from the gallery steps, and as long as we were in the building there were people and statues and plants and things in the way.”

  “I noticed,” Charlie said, “when she was running down the steps, the long outside steps, because when ladies run their handbags bump-bump-bump against their sides. It looks funny. And hers didn’t because she didn’t have one.”

  “Good point, Charlie. Do you others agree she didn’t have one going down the steps?”

  Belinda and Ben consulted each other with a glance.

  “I can’t say for sure,” said Ben, and Bel shook her head. “There were lots of steps. We were concentrating on not losing sight of them and not being seen.”

  Alec sighed. “A pity. Looks as if we’ll have to search the whole park as well as the palace itself.”

  “I can show you exactly where she went, Uncle Alec. At least as far as the pond where we found Mrs. Gilpin. After that, I don’t know.”

  “Ben’s really good at maps, Daddy.”

  “In that case, how would you like a visit to Scotland Yard, Ben? We have a large-scale map of the park. If you can trace her route on it, you may save us a lot of work.”

  “Yes, please!”

  “Right now, Daddy? We were going to go to Madame Tussaud’s, and then Maskelyne’s Mysteries this afternoon.”

  “You’d better all come. Maybe you’ll be reminded of something helpful. It won’t take long, and I’ll send you on to the waxworks in a police car.”

  “Gosh!” Charlie’s eyes shone. “Scotland Yard and a ride in a police car? That’s much better than waxworks. Almost as good as the zoo.”

  “Wait till you see the Chamber of Horrors,” said Belinda. “At least, Mummy wouldn’t let me go in, but Derek raved about it.”

  Daisy came in, looking sleepy. After a chorus of “good morning,” Alec said, “All right, you three. If you’ve finished your breakfast, go and get your coats. I want a word with Daisy.”

  “That sounds ominous,” said Daisy as the children trooped out. “Just coffee and toast, please, Elsie.”

  “Just a question I would have asked last night if I hadn’t been half asleep. What’s the name of the person who remarked on Devenish’s pursuit of the girl?”

  “It was Fenella’s husband, Fenella being Phillip’s sister. Kerston is her married name. Elliot Kerston.”

  “Did anyone respond?”

  “Yes. The girl sitting next to him said she didn’t think Teddy was ever besotted with anyone.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Heavens, darling, I haven’t the foggiest. Introductions were sketchy and the noise was appalling.”

  “I’ll have to start with Kerston, then.”

  “For pity’s sake, don’t let him know I was the spy in the ointment.”

  “I’ll do my best. Might be better if Mackinnon tackles him, too. He managed nicely with Lucy, it seems. He said he went all Scottish on her and it worked a treat.”

  “Did she tell him about the Russian prince? I never got round to it.”

  “Yes, but as she didn’t know his name, it’s going to be difficult to find him. Even if we had a name, these Russian émigrés tend to suffer from a persecution complex. They move often, frequently without leaving a forwarding address. Also, there’s no record of a breach of promise suit against Devenish; that’s been checked. So far, the Russian remains a mystery. And speaking of mysteries, are you going with the children to Maskelyne’s?”

  “I wasn’t going to. They can’t come to any harm, can they? They’ve promised to be home by six.”

  “I don’t suppose so. But what do you bet, if they want a volunteer to be sawed in half, Charlie will be the first on stage.”

  Daisy laughed. “Undoubtedly.”

  Charlie’s voice came from the hall, “Do hurry up, or Uncle Alec might go without us!”

  “So much for my second cup of coffee.” Alec pushed back his chair and stood. “You’ve done your bit, Daisy. I’ll see that someone follows up with Miss Fanshawe and Elliot Kerston. No more nightclub investigating, please. And resist the temptation to pay solo calls on suspects, especially at midnight.”

  She wore her most innocent look again, but he couldn’t guess whether because she had every intention of disregarding his plea or she had some other “helpful” ploy up her sleeve.

  The door opened a couple of inches and a penetrating whisper issued through the gap: “Uncle Alec, have you finished having a word with Aunt Daisy yet?”

  “I’m coming, I’m coming! I’ll be home for dinner, love, with any luck.”

  “I should hope so, after being away for a whole week. The twins kept asking for Daddy.”

  “Miranda said she missed me. She’s getting very articulate.”

  “Yes, it’s high time she went to school. Governesses are so old-fashioned. We’ve got to talk about Nanny Gilpin.”

  “Not now!” said Alec, escaping.

  THIRTEEN

  After a visit to the nursery, during which she was told all about Daddy coming home, Daisy went reluctantly to visit Mrs. Gilpin. She was still angry at the nanny for abandoning her charges, apparently on a whim. However, the woman was suffering and—for good or ill—Daisy was still her employer.

  To her relief, Nanny Gilpin was asleep. On a small table was a tray with the remains of breakfast for two. Mrs. Tring, in an old rocking chair, knitted placidly.

  “How is she?” Daisy asked in a low voice.

  “Doing nicely, Mrs. Fletcher. She’s in her right mind and got her appetite back, though she still don’t remember a thing that happened after she went off to the ladies’.”

  “Is the doctor calling again today?”

  “Yes, he said he’d drop in this morning after his surgery. Unless things change, she won’t need me no more. ’Less you want me to stay, I’ll pop off home and see how my Tom’s doing without me.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Tring. It’s been very kind of you to help out, and I wouldn’t dream of keeping you. I’ll talk to the doctor after he’s seen Nanny.”

  She went down to her office, bracing herself for the next unpleasant task. A letter from Angela Devenish had been among her post at the breakfast table. She hadn’t opened it, but she couldn’t put it off any longer. Worse, in the circumstances she’d have to write back right away.

  Angela was her usual brusque self. She was coming up to town immediately. She would stay at Teddy’s flat and ring up Daisy when she arrived.

  Daisy’s first thought was that at least she didn’t have to answer the letter. Expressing her sympathy would be easier in person. She hoped. Her second thought was to wonder whether the police would let Angela stay in her brother’s flat. Though it wasn’t exactly a cri
me scene, they might reasonably expect to find information there that would suggest where to look for the murderer.

  After the long train ride from Yorkshire, the poor woman would be in no condition to go hunting for a hotel, even if she had enough money. Despite a legacy from the great-aunt who had left the bulk of her large fortune to Teddy, Angela was always pinching pennies to scrape together the funds for her dog refuge.

  Daisy groaned as she realised where that train of thought was leading. Like it or not—and Alec for one was not going to like it—she’d have to offer Angela a bed, if only for the first night.

  She picked up the telephone receiver and asked the operator for New Scotland Yard. Surely just this once Alec would thank her for ringing him at work.

  Alec was out, and so was Mackinnon. Daisy was put through to DS Piper. She had known him since he was newly promoted to the detective branch, as long as she had known Alec.

  “Good morning, Ernie. Left behind to mind the shop?”

  “As usual, Mrs. Fletcher. Keeping track of the details. They do let me out now and then.”

  “It’s what comes of being best at the job.”

  “Flattery will get you a long way. What can I do for you?”

  “With your head for details, you probably remember Teddy Devenish’s sister Angela?”

  “Dogs.”

  “Exactly. She’s arriving this afternoon—”

  “With dogs?”

  “I shouldn’t be surprised. The thing is, she wrote that she’s going to stay at her brother’s flat. I’d hate her to turn up, perhaps with dogs in tow, and find a guard at the door. Are you—the police—finished with it?”

  “Yes. We had his solicitor in and with his permission carted off anything that looked hopeful. But I’ve just been through it for the second time without much luck. He hardly kept any papers. Secretive sort of bloke.”

  “Judging by what I’ve heard, he had a lot to be secretive about. So it’s all right for Angela to move in to the flat?”