‘I should like to know, please, when you landed in England,’ said Hannasyde.
‘Nothing easier. August 9th. I came by ’plane. I don’t think I shall go anywhere by sea again, by the way, Adrian,’ she added over her shoulder.
‘On August 9th?’ repeated Hannasyde. ‘The day before Mr Clement Kane’s death, in fact?’
She nodded. He glanced towards Sir Adrian, and saw that he was looking at his wife with a kind of patient expectancy not unmixed with amusement.
‘My dear Norma,’ said Sir Adrian, ‘I feel sure you had some excellent reason for returning so hurriedly, but do tell us what it was!’
‘Really, Adrian, you’re hopeless!’ she said roundly. ‘You must have seen the news of George Dickson’s illness in the papers! Now, don’t look vague, my dear soul! You know perfectly well we’ve been expecting it for months.’
‘George Dickson?’ said Sir Adrian. ‘I don’t think I know –’
‘Member for East Madingley!’ said Norma impatiently.
‘Oh!’
‘Yes, he’s applying for the Chiltern Hundreds. I got the news – hideously overdue, of course – by runner. I was on safari at the time. I broke camp, and marched back to Kyongo Bwarra, got the lorry there, and had a pretty stiff trip of it to the air-port.’
‘Good God!’ said Sir Adrian, in accents of deep foreboding.
His wife, paying no heed to this ejaculation, began to stalk up and down the room, occasionally smoking her cigarette, but more often waving it in the air to illustrate her points. ‘I may have a fight, but I don’t mind that. I’m used to overcoming difficulties. Roughing it in the wilds teaches one that, at least. Besides, the Socialist candidate’s a bad speaker. Makes a poor impression on the platform. I’m confident I shall get in. I’ve been up there already, of course; seen our agent, the local committee –’
‘My wife,’ explained Sir Adrian to the Superintendent, ‘intends standing for Parliament.’
‘Certainly I do!’ said Norma. ‘I feel it’s my duty, and thank God I’ve never been one to shirk that!’
‘Quite, Lady Harte. Do I understand that upon landing in England you went north immediately to East Madingley?’
‘Immediately? No, certainly not. I had a great deal of business to attend to in town, and several people to see. I left for my constituency the following evening. In fact, I’ve been in the devil’s own rush ever since I got the cable in the Congo.’
‘I’m sure you have,’ said Sir Adrian. ‘That would account for your not having warned me of your arrival.’
‘Rubbish, Adrian! Don’t be so forgetful. You must have had my cable.’ He shook his head, smiling. ‘Well, that’s most extraordinary,’ she said. ‘I’m pretty sure I sent you one. I know I sent cables to Jevons and Sir Archibald. However, it’s possible that in the hurry I may have forgotten. It doesn’t really matter. I knew you’d be in Scotland, anyway.’
‘May I ask where you went when you landed in England, Lady Harte?’
‘Ask me anything you like!’ said Norma, with a lavish gesture. ‘I went all over the place, seeing first this person, and then that. First, of course, I had to hand my guns in, and attend to all that nonsense; then I saw Sir Archibald for a few minutes, rushed off to buy a pair of gloves –’
‘Did you spend the night at home, Lady Harte?’
‘No, I only went home to dump my luggage. Most of the servants are on holiday. There’s only the butler and his wife there, and I can’t stand furniture muffled in holland covers. I just collected my car from the garage, and went down to Putney, and parked myself with an old servant of mine who lets rooms.’
This seemed to Hannasyde an odd procedure. Lady Harte noticed his look of incredulity, and gave a laugh. ‘My dear man, you needn’t look so surprised! Why shouldn’t I spend the night with my own son’s old nanny? I get better attention with her than at any hotel, let me tell you!’
‘I quite understand,’ said Hannasyde. ‘A devoted old servant would –’
‘Devoted! She’s practically one of the family. She took my elder boy from the month, and my younger one too!’
‘I see,’ said Hannasyde. ‘And you stayed with her until you went to East Madingley?’
‘Of course I did!’
‘All the following day, in fact?’
Lady Harte looked exasperated. ‘Yes! If you mean, was I in her house all day, certainly not! You don’t seem to realise that I had a lot to do when I got back. I was in London, shopping, all the morning, dashed back to Putney after lunch to repack my suitcase, dashed up to King’s Cross, and just caught the 7.15 train north.’
‘Were you aware of Mr Silas Kane’s death, Lady Harte?’
‘Yes, Nanny told me all about that. I can’t say I was surprised. He’d had a weak heart for years.’
‘You did not make any attempt to get into touch either with your son or with anyone here?’
She gave her head a decided shake. ‘No time. There was nothing I could do, and it was extremely important I should present myself in my constituency without any further loss of time. I always keep my personal affairs and my public life strictly apart. It’s by far the best plan.’
‘When did you learn of Mr Clement Kane’s murder, Lady Harte?’
‘Actually, I never heard anything about it till I got back to town last night. Usually I make a point of studying The Times from cover to cover, but my mind was occupied with more pressing business. Nanny told me about it as soon as I arrived at her place, of course, so I collected my baggage from Pont Street first thing this morning, and managed to catch the ten o’clock train down to Portlaw.’ She threw the stub of her cigarette out of the window, and added kindly: ‘If there’s anything more you want to know, don’t hesitate to ask me!’
‘Thank you, Lady Harte. You will understand, I expect, that it is of importance to this case that I should know exactly where you went on August 10th.’
‘Was that the day Clement Kane was murdered?’ inquired Norma. ‘Oh, well, naturally you must know what my movements were! Now let me see!’ She paused in her striding about the room, and took another cigarette out of the box on the table. Once more her husband held a light for her, once more she inhaled the first breath with that characteristic little toss of the head. ‘Very difficult,’ she pronounced at last. ‘You know what it’s like when one gets back from the wilds – or perhaps you don’t. I spent the day shopping. New toothbrush, and hair-lotion, and that sort of thing. I expect I could make out a list if I gave my mind to it, but I’m not sure I can remember the shops I went to. Some chemist or other in the Brompton Road, but God knows which one. I went to Harrod’s, too, and various other places.’
‘The shops are really quite immaterial, Lady Harte. If you could tell me where you lunched it would be helpful.’
‘Oh, at some tea-shop or other! I rather think it was at a Lyons’ Corner House – or, no, wait! – it might have been Stewart’s. Somewhere in Piccadilly.’
‘Whichever restaurant it was, it was a crowded one?’
‘They all are,’ said Norma. ‘If it weren’t so out of the way, I should have gone to my club; but it’s in Cavendish Square. Waste of time!’
‘And in the afternoon?’ inquired Hannasyde.
‘I hadn’t done all the shopping I had to, so I went back to Putney – it was Saturday, you know. Early closing day in London.’ She gave a sudden laugh. ‘Good Lord, of course you can’t prove any of this, and no more can I! You’re thinking that old Nanny would lie like a shot. So she would, bless her! Well, I’ve done most things – experience is the most important thing in life – but I’ve never yet been suspected of murder. Now, don’t misunderstand me! I don’t mind a bit; in fact, it’ll provide me with a grand piece of copy for the book I’m writing.’
Hannasyde could not help smiling, but he said: ‘Th
ere is another question I should like you to answer, Lady Harte. Were you conversant with the terms of Matthew Kane’s will?’
‘Do you mean, did I know that my boy stood next to his cousin Clement in succession? My dear good man, of course I did!’
‘Did you ever mention the matter to your son?’
‘No, certainly not.’
‘You seem very sure of that?’
‘Well, I am sure. I never thought there was the least likelihood of his coming into the property. I’m not at all certain I wanted him to. I don’t believe in young men rolling in wealth. I believe in their having to make their own way, and fight for what they want. I’ve always done it. I only wish my boys had half my push. When I make up my mind to do a thing, I can’t rest till it’s done.’
A singularly pugnacious expression came into her face as she delivered herself of this announcement, but just then Jim Kane walked quickly into the room, and the expression vanished at once. ‘Jim, my dearest!’ Norma cried, and held out her arms to him.
Mr James Kane caught her in a bear’s hug. He was laughing as he kissed her. ‘Mother, where did you spring from? Why weren’t we warned? Or were we, and did Adrian forget all about it?’
‘Well, I certainly was under the impression that I sent one of you a cable,’ said Norma. ‘Not that it matters much. Darling, what a dreadful coat! It’s fraying at the cuffs. You really can’t go about like that!’
‘Why not?’ he retorted. ‘Look at the wicked example you set me!’
‘Oh, it doesn’t matter about me!’ she said. ‘Besides, I’m perfectly respectable. Now, you must sit down and not interrupt, Jim. I’m being interviewed by the police. Darling!’ The last word was murmured in an idolatrous voice quite at variance with Lady Harte’s usually incisive accents. Hannasyde watched one thin brown hand go swiftly up to pat Jim’s cheek, saw the sharp eyes misty, and turned to find Sir Adrian meditatively polishing his monocle.
Sir Adrian met his look with a faint smile. ‘Yes, Superintendent?’ he said gently.
‘Nothing, sir. I have asked Lady Harte all I wish to just now. I’m sure she would like to be alone with her family.’
Norma said: ‘Very decent of you, but my motto is business first. Of course, if you’ve really done with me –’
‘I have,’ Hannasyde said.
Sir Adrian escorted him out of the room, closing the door on his wife and stepson. In the hall, he said: ‘Have you a piece of paper and a pencil, Superintendent? If you have, I will give you that address you want.’
Hannasyde produced both articles. ‘Thank you. I was going to ask you for that. As a matter of form, I must check up on Lady Harte’s story.’
Sir Adrian wrote a name and an address down in a leisurely fashion. ‘Incredible, isn’t it?’ he said.
‘I wouldn’t say that.’
‘That shows insight, Superintendent. My wife is one of the most truthful people I have the pleasure of knowing. Here is Nanny Bryant’s address for you.’
‘Thank you.’ Hannasyde folded the paper, slipped it in his note-book, and picked up his hat.
He was in time to catch the omnibus that passed the lodge gates, and was soon in Portlaw, in conference with Sergeant Hemingway and Inspector Carlton.
The Sergeant heard the news of Lady Harte’s arrival with the look of a terrier scenting a rat, but the Inspector shook his head. ‘She’s a caution, she is,’ he said. ‘Well, I ask you! Fancy a lady of her age, and with a family and all, careering about on the backs of camels the way I’m told she does!’
‘It isn’t my taste,’ agreed the Sergeant. ‘In fact, there’s only one thing worse than a camel ride, in my opinion, and that’s an elephant ride. But the point is, she’s not careering about on a camel. She’s here. This is interesting, Chief. Brings in a new motive. Mother-love! What did you make of her?’
‘Energetic, determined woman, with a one-track mind and plenty of courage.’
‘She’d need to have, hobnobbing with a lot of gorillas,’ remarked the Inspector. ‘Generally you’re safe to rule the women out when it’s a case of shooting, but I dare say her ladyship wouldn’t think twice about pulling a trigger. I’m bound to admit the tale she put up was a thin one, and it don’t seem natural she wouldn’t let her people know she was coming home, but you’ve only got to talk to the servants up at Cliff House to know she’s a regular cough-drop.’
‘I certainly noticed that, although her husband and her elder son were surprised to see her, they didn’t seem to be surprised that she hadn’t let them know,’ agreed Hannasyde. ‘At the same time, I think the fact that she landed in England on the day before Clement Kane’s murder, coupled with her subsequent behaviour, requires investigation. I’ve no doubt we shall find that her story, as far as she has told it, is quite true. She came home in a hurry to fight a by-election; whether she already knew of Silas Kane’s death is, I think, uncertain. If she knew of it, it seems just within the bounds of possibility that she might have conceived the idea of shooting Clement, and thus winning a fortune for her own son. That would account for her decision to stay with the old nurse – who, she herself admits, would certainly lie on her behalf – or James Kane’s. There’s a great deal I haven’t fathomed in Lady Harte, but one thing she couldn’t help showing me, and that was her feeling for her elder son. I should say he’s the very apple of her eye. She greeted Sir Adrian and Timothy with affection, but her whole face changed when James Kane walked into the room.’
The Sergeant nodded wisely. ‘I’ve seen ’em like that often. What’s more, I’d as soon handle a nest of wild cats.’
Hannasyde smiled, but said: ‘Oh, she seems quite reasonable! Did it strike you that Oscar Roberts was keeping anything back, Hemingway?’
‘No,’ replied the Sergeant, looking interested. ‘Got something on him?’
‘Oh no, not that! But apparently he’s seen fit to warn James Kane that he may be the next victim.’
‘Paul Mansell!’ said the Sergeant instantly. ‘Now I come to think of it, he did drop a hint we’d do well to keep an eye on Pretty Paul. Said he was anxious to co-operate with us too. Funny what a lot of people you meet who fancy themselves as detectives.’
‘Well, I don’t know,’ said Inspector Carlton. ‘He didn’t strike me as being a know-all, not Mr Roberts. Come to think of it, he may see a bit more than what we do, not being official.’
‘That’s always possible,’ agreed Hannasyde. ‘I’ll have a talk with him.’
His talk with Oscar Roberts, however, was not productive of very much. Roberts admitted that he had let drop a word of warning in Jim’s ear, but when Hannasyde asked him what grounds he had for thinking a warning necessary, he hesitated for a moment, and then looked frankly at Hannasyde and said with the shadow of a smile: ‘I’d like you to get this, Superintendent: it’s not my intention to hold out on you. If I were to stumble on something that might help you, believe you me, I’d be right along at the police-station with it.’
‘Very kind of you,’ said Hannasyde. ‘It would certainly be your duty. Am I to understand that you had no grounds for warning Mr Kane that his life might be in danger?’
‘Call it a hunch. And maybe I’m wrong at that.’
‘Oh, a hunch!’ Hannasyde said, an inflection of contempt in his voice.
Roberts’s smile broadened. ‘I kind of figured you’d feel that way about it, Superintendent, which is why I kept my mouth shut. I don’t know what you think of the case, but to my mind, when two men who don’t see eye to eye with their partners die within a fortnight of each other, it’s time to sit up and look around.’
Hannasyde said dryly: ‘I think I ought to warn you, Mr Roberts, that that kind of innuendo, unsupported by evidence, is actionable.’
‘Sure,’ agreed Roberts amiably. ‘Go right along and tell Mr Paul Mansell I said it, if you wish, Su
perintendent. Maybe he’ll bring an action against me. And maybe he won’t.’
This enigmatic remark rather annoyed Hannasyde, who told his Sergeant later, with unaccustomed acerbity, that he hoped Timothy Harte and Oscar Roberts between them would succeed in clearing up the case for him.
‘I don’t know about Terrible Timothy,’ replied Hemingway; ‘but it’s my belief Roberts is a downy bird. Give him his due, he was on to old man Silas having been pushed off the cliff from the start.’
‘So he says. We’ve no proof that Silas Kane was murdered.’
‘That’s true,’ conceded the Sergeant. ‘Of course, if Lady Harte shot Clement, it looks as though the old man wasn’t murdered. If you were to ask my opinion, I should say that this case is my idea of a mess. However, I’ll see what I can get out of Master Jim’s faithful Nanny.’
‘James Kane was out joy-riding in that speed-boat of his today,’ said Hannasyde inconsequently.
‘Well, it may be his idea of pleasure. It wouldn’t be mine,’ said the Sergeant. ‘What with camels and speed-boats, they seem to be an unnatural lot. There’s some sort of a motor-boat race billed to take place in Portlaw this month. Young Timothy tells me his brother’s entered for it, so I dare say he’ll be cavorting about in that boat of his a good bit.’
‘Either he has an easy conscience or a cast-iron nerve,’ said Hannasyde. ‘I’m not sure which.’
‘Bit of both,’ said the Sergeant. ‘Gets it from his mother, I expect. Most mothers ’ud try to stop him monkeying around with racing-boats and cars, and I don’t know what besides; but according to what young Timothy tells me, there’s nothing her ladyship likes better than watching her sons get up to dangerous tricks.’
He was only partly right, for Lady Harte, hearing of the forthcoming race from Timothy, said that she was glad Jim was going to have some amusement after the stress of the past few days, but she wished he were a stronger swimmer.
Timothy, though offended with Jim for not having taken him out in the boat, never let anyone but himself criticise the paragon, so he said perfunctorily: ‘Oh, he can swim all right, mother!’
They Found Him Dead Page 15
