A Case of Suicide in St. James's

by Clara Benson

  ‘Let’s go!’ said Dauncey sharply.

  ‘Give me the gun!’ said Penbrigg.

  ‘Never mind that—we’d better go or we’ll be late.’

  Penbrigg seemed reluctant, but Dauncey evidently had no intention of handing over the gun, so with one contemptuous glance back he left the workshop, followed by Dauncey. Freddy and Corky were both sitting dazed on the floor. Gertie ran across to Freddy, threw her arms around his neck and began to stroke his hair and plant kisses all over his face.

  ‘You’re not hurt? Oh, goodness me, I thought he’d shot you!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Just winded, I think. The bullet went into the wall.’

  ‘Oh, good heavens! My poor, darling boy, you were so brave!’

  ‘It was nothing,’ said Freddy modestly, as he accepted the attention that was his due.

  Corky sat rubbing his head and watching the affecting scene with a scowl.

  ‘Well, I’m glad you two are happy,’ he said. ‘Never mind that the blackguard almost knocked my brains out through my ear.’

  ‘Would anybody have noticed the difference if he had?’ said Freddy. ‘Do that again, Gertie, it was rather nice.’

  ‘Hmph,’ said Gertie, suddenly remembering where she was and sitting back. ‘That’s quite enough of that! What are we going to do now?’

  ‘We’d better call the police. It’s just a pity they took the notebook.’

  ‘Oh, but they didn’t,’ said Gertie triumphantly. ‘It fell out of his pocket while you were fighting, and I kicked it out of the way over there.’

  She pointed to a corner of the room, where the notebook, looking even more battered now, was lying under a chair.

  ‘I must say, you’ve done some jolly quick thinking this evening,’ said Freddy, regarding Gertie with approval. He looked about him. ‘There’s no telephone here, is there? We’d better go and find one and call from there.’

  ‘This is going to be the most tremendous scoop for me,’ said Corky, who was recovering and beginning to sound much more like himself.

  ‘Not if I get there first,’ said Freddy.

  The old smug look stole across Corky’s face.

  ‘You won’t. You came here in a taxi but I had the foresight to bring my own car. It’s been an expensive evening, all told—I had to sit for hours in that restaurant while you two gazed lovingly into one another’s eyes—’

  ‘We did no such thing!’ said Gertie indignantly. ‘We were having a perfectly sensible conversation.’

  ‘That’s not how it looked from where I was sitting. And then there was the night-club. The doorman didn’t want to let me in, so I was forced to offer him a supplementary emolument in addition to the entrance fee, which, I regret to say, he was only too pleased to accept. Where is the incorruptible man in these modern times? I fear he is a thing of the past. Still, I’m glad I had the idea of keeping you in sight, especially after what you said about young Douglas Westray’s death. I heard everything that was said, and it seems you were right after all.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Now, I’d better get back home. If I hurry, I can put something together in time for tomorrow’s early evening edition. Don’t stay out all night, Lady Gertrude, and especially not with Freddy. I could tell you some tales about him that would make your hair stand on end—or at least they would if they were suitable for a young lady’s ears.’

  He smiled genially and went out. Freddy and Gertie followed, bringing the notebook with them.

  ‘Drat it,’ said Freddy, as they returned along the little alley and saw street-lights ahead of them. ‘I do wish they hadn’t got away.’

  ‘I wonder where they’re going,’ said Gertie.

  ‘Well, it’s obvious they’re leaving the country, and presumably in a plane, but I don’t know where they’re planning to fly from.’

  ‘If they’re going abroad then they could be flying from almost anywhere.’

  ‘No they couldn’t!’ said Freddy suddenly. ‘Don’t you remember what Penbrigg said? “We’ve promised them the Nuthatch.” That’s it! They’re going to steal the Nuthatch and take it abroad with them.’

  ‘Of course! But where is it?’

  ‘I don’t know, that’s the problem. Yes I do—it’s the South of England air show tomorrow, isn’t it? Lord Browncliffe was talking about it. That’s at Shoreham. The plane must be there!’

  They stared at one another eagerly.

  ‘We must stop them before they fly off with it!’ said Gertie. ‘How can we do that?’

  ‘We could get the police onto it if only we could get to a telephone,’ said Freddy, looking around. ‘But it appears civilization hasn’t reached Hammersmith yet.’

  Indeed, there was no sign of a telephone box nearby. Ahead of them on the road they saw Corky getting into his little car.

  ‘Damn Corky,’ said Freddy grumpily. ‘And he’s going to scoop me too, after all that trouble we went to!’

  Corky seemed to be having a little difficulty starting the engine, but at last it stuttered into life.

  ‘No he isn’t,’ said Gertie suddenly. ‘I’m going to get his car.’

  ‘What?’ said Freddy, but she was not paying attention. She hurried up to Corky and knocked on the window. He opened it and looked at her inquiringly. She gave him her sincerest smile.

  ‘Listen, shouldn’t you like the full story?’ she said. ‘I can give you all the low-down about what happened, and—’ she glanced back, as though to make sure Freddy could not hear, then lowered her voice conspiratorially, ‘—I’ll tell you all about me and Freddy too.’

  Corky hesitated, then a satisfied smile spread over his face. He opened the door and unfolded himself from the car.

  ‘Very well,’ he said, feeling in his pocket for his notebook. ‘What is it you have to tell me?’

  Gertie drew him away as though to speak to him confidentially.

  ‘Well, there are one or two things I don’t think the papers have got quite clear,’ she said demurely. ‘But I’d much rather tell them to the Herald than the Clarion.’

  ‘You are quite right to do so,’ said Corky. ‘I’m glad you’ve seen sense at last, Lady Gertrude.’

  ‘Sense? Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said, as she nipped past him quick as lightning and jumped into the car. ‘Quick, Freddy!’

  Freddy had seen what she was about just in time. He jumped in after her, and she pulled away with a screech of tyres, but she had reckoned without the eccentricity of Corky’s car, for after fifty yards or so it stalled and juddered to a halt.

  ‘Drat!’ she said. ‘I can’t get it to start again.’

  ‘Here, let me try,’ said Freddy. ‘On second thoughts, I’ll drive. I’ve just remembered I swore never to let you drive me again after that day we went to Tunbridge Wells and you nearly hit a cow.’

  ‘That wasn’t my fault. I had to swerve or I’d have gone into that tree.’

  ‘Remind me to teach you the difference between a road and a field one day. Now, budge over, and quick, before Corky catches up.’

  They exchanged places hurriedly, and he managed to get the engine started, and they roared off again, leaving an outraged Corky shaking his fist at them from the pavement and mouthing words they could not hear.

  ‘Gertie,’ said Freddy, as they turned out onto King Street, ‘you do know that stealing cars is wrong, don’t you?’

  ‘I’m not the one driving,’ said Gertie pointedly. She giggled mischievously. ‘Now we’re in for it.’

  ‘I wonder how much he’ll sue us for.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll square it with him. I’ll give him a marvellous story when we get back. Exclusive, too!’

  ‘Oughtn’t you to be giving me the exclusive?’

  ‘I didn’t say it was going to be true. I’ll make something up. That’s what he usually does, isn’t it? Well, I shall save him the trouble.’

  ‘You’re quite irrepressible,’ said Freddy.

  ‘Of course I am,’ she said complacently. ‘Now, how far is Shoreham?’


  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The moon was sinking as they crossed the river and drove through the dark streets of the Surrey side. There were few cars about and they made good progress, and it seemed no time at all until they were passing through Croydon, and then Crawley. Corky’s car was somewhat temperamental, and Freddy had to pay close attention to prevent it from drifting by inclination over to the wrong side of the road. He glanced across at Gertie, who was quiet and appeared to have dozed off. Suddenly she opened her eyes.

  ‘How are we meant to stop them if we do find them?’ she said. ‘They’re the ones with the gun.’

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ admitted Freddy.

  The rest of the journey passed in silence. After some time they began to see road signs indicating that they were close to Brighton, and Freddy looked for the road to Shoreham-by-Sea then turned off. They came into the outskirts of the little town, and Freddy drew up by a telephone box.

  ‘We still haven’t called the police,’ he said. He got out and made a call lasting some few minutes, then came back to the car. ‘I’m not sure they understood what I was talking about, but at least I’ve tried.’

  ‘I expect it’s too late,’ said Gertie. ‘I shouldn’t be surprised if they’ve already gone.’

  The darkness was turning to the beginnings of a chilly grey dawn when they arrived at the aerodrome, to find the place already busy with preparations for the air show. They drove up to the large, square building with its tall central tower and alighted from the car. They were immediately stopped by a man in uniform.

  ‘Press,’ said Freddy, showing his pass.

  ‘What? At this time?’ said the man, gazing at their evening clothes with the greatest suspicion.

  ‘We want to get the best seats,’ explained Freddy. Gertie nodded brightly in agreement. The man hesitated, reluctant to let them in, but since Freddy’s press card was perfectly legitimate, he decided not to argue and waved them through.

  ‘Where do you suppose the plane is?’ said Gertie, looking about her. ‘I presume they don’t leave them outside overnight.’

  ‘It must be in one of these hangars,’ said Freddy. He stopped a workman who happened to be passing. ‘I say, could you tell us where the Nugent plane is?’

  The workman looked at him blankly and walked on.

  ‘Well, so much for that,’ said Freddy.

  ‘We’ll just have to search for it ourselves, then,’ said Gertie. Without further ado she set off towards the nearest hangar, ignoring the many curious looks from the people who were hurrying to and fro, preparing for that day’s event. Freddy followed.

  ‘Now, then, you can’t go in there, young lady,’ said a man whose peaked cap denoted his officialdom as they approached the hangar.

  ‘I just want—’ began Gertie, but the man was firm.

  ‘Never mind what you just want. Nobody’s allowed in. You can wait until the show starts, like everybody else.’

  He shooed them away, and they retreated and considered their next move.

  ‘How are Dauncey and Penbrigg going to get in if we can’t?’ said Gertie.

  ‘Penbrigg’s in the business,’ said Freddy. ‘Of course he’ll be able to get in. And I dare say he’ll be able to sneak Dauncey through easily enough.’

  Gertie looked down at her gauzy evening-dress.

  ‘I wish I’d put something else on before we set off. We’re far too conspicuous in these clothes.’ She glanced about anxiously. ‘It’s getting light now, and there are a lot more people about. If they’re hoping to spirit the plane away without anybody seeing it they’ll have to be quick.’ She looked back at the first hangar. ‘That man’s gone. Let’s try again.’

  This time they got in easily enough, and found two aeroplanes inside, neither of which was the Nugent Nuthatch. A mechanic was tinkering with one of them. He looked up and spotted them.

  ‘Public aren’t allowed in here,’ he said. ‘Engineers only. Here, Bert, what are you doing letting the visitors in at this time?’

  Bert turned out to be the man in the peaked cap who had shooed them away before.

  ‘I thought I told you two to keep out,’ he said crossly.

  He squinted at them more closely and evidently came to the conclusion that there was something suspicious about them.

  ‘Did you let these two in?’ he said to a man who was approaching. They recognized him as the official who had let them through when they arrived.

  ‘Yes—they said they was press, but now I’m not so sure,’ replied the other man, looking them up and down.

  Freddy decided it was time to come clean.

  ‘Look here, I really am press,’ he said, ‘but that’s not exactly why we’re here. We’ve had word that someone is going to try and steal one of the planes today, and we’ve come to stop it.’

  ‘Get away with you,’ said Bert disbelievingly. Then a look of understanding dawned over his face, and his manner became slightly more sympathetic. ‘Why don’t you go home and sleep it off, there’s a good fellow, then come back later. And you, miss. Does your mother know where you are?’

  ‘No, she doesn’t, as a matter of fact,’ said Gertie, struck. ‘Bother! Oh, never mind, she ought to know me well enough by now.’

  ‘We really haven’t been drinking,’ said Freddy. ‘At least, not for the last few hours,’ he added honestly. ‘And I wasn’t joking about the plane. There are two dangerous men somewhere around here—one of them is a murderer—and they’re going to take the Nugent Nuthatch.’

  ‘Well, if that’s true don’t you worry,’ said the gate-keeper soothingly. ‘We’ll keep an eye on things for you and make sure everything is safe. Now, you just get back in your car and go home. The show starts at ten o’clock and you’ll feel all the better for a few hours’ sleep.’

  He and Bert escorted them firmly back to the car, and they had no choice but to get in and drive away.

  ‘We can’t leave now!’ exclaimed Gertie, looking back as the aerodrome buildings retreated into the distance behind them.

  ‘We’re not leaving,’ said Freddy. He drove a little way further until they were out of sight, then drew the car over to the grass verge and stopped. ‘We’ll just have to walk, that’s all. It’s not far over the fields.’

  They alighted from the car and walked back, using trees and hedgerows as cover where possible, for it was getting lighter by the minute. This time they took a circuitous route, avoiding the main building.

  ‘Let’s start from the farthest hangar,’ said Freddy. They crept behind a little cluster of huts and peeped out. Here several aeroplanes had already been brought out of their hangars. At first they did not see the Nuthatch, then Gertie jumped and clutched at Freddy’s arm.

  ‘Look!’ she whispered.

  Two men had emerged from the end hangar, wheeling a sleek aeroplane between them.

  ‘It’s the Nuthatch!’ said Freddy.

  Penbrigg and Dauncey had changed into workmen’s clothes, and looked exactly like all the other mechanics in the place, except that they were carrying pilot’s helmets. Nobody was giving them a second glance. They brought the plane down to the end of the runway, and Dauncey placed chocks under the wheels while Penbrigg climbed onto the wing, then got in and strapped on his helmet. Still nobody was paying them any attention. Dauncey, too, climbed in and started the engine. Then he climbed out again, examined a cable and adjusted something.

  ‘We must stop them!’ said Gertie.

  She ran out from behind the hut and towards the Nuthatch, followed by Freddy. There were shouts, and Bert appeared again.

  ‘Oi! I thought I told you—’ he began.

  Gertie dodged him adroitly and kept on running. Bert followed. Dauncey saw that they had been spotted.

  ‘Keep back!’ he said. He took out the gun and levelled it at Bert, who stopped.

  ‘Here, what’s all this, then?’ he said, but retreated.

  ‘Gertie!’ said Freddy.

  But Gertie was not listening
. She slowed, eyeing the gun warily, but walked straight up to Dauncey, who gave her a cheerful smile quite in the ordinary way.

  ‘Hallo, Gertie, come to see us off?’ he said.

  ‘He killed Doug, and you’re going to let him escape,’ she said sorrowfully.

  ‘I have no choice,’ he said.

  He was standing straight, and the early light softened his worn look. At that moment he appeared something like the handsome hero he had once been. Then his mouth twisted ruefully.

  ‘Cheer up, Gertie!’ he said. ‘You never know—perhaps I’ll redeem myself one day.’

  He knocked the chocks away, then climbed into the plane and adjusted a dial or two, and they watched as it taxied slowly down the runway, then gathered speed and took off smoothly into the grey dawn.

  ‘Too late!’ said Gertie tragically, as Freddy came to stand beside her.

  They watched as the plane got smaller and smaller. It was already over the sea now, climbing higher and higher into the sky—higher than it possibly needed to, surely.

  ‘What the devil’s he doing?’ said Freddy suddenly.

  The plane was no longer receding into the distance, but had levelled off and turned. Now it seemed to slow almost to a stop. A finger of sunlight appeared over the horizon and glinted off its wings. The Nuthatch hovered for what seemed like an age, then they watched, aghast, as its nose tipped slowly and it began to fall freely. Down, down, down it came, spiralling, plummeting towards the sea, until it was out of sight. There was no sound as it hit the sea. There were cries of horror all around, and men began to run and shout instructions, but Freddy and Gertie did not move.

  ‘He did it on purpose,’ said Gertie at last.

  ‘It looks like it,’ said Freddy.