‘Yes, very good of you,’ interrupted Jim; ‘but never mind about what the Australian police did! You say you’ve established the fact that the gun belonged to Roberts, and that settles that. He must have shot Clement, and I suppose he must be Edwin Leighton. But I can hardly believe it, all the same. It was he who started every scare we’ve had. While the rest of us thought my cousin Silas had missed his footing in the fog, he went about hinting that he’d met with foul play. He warned me to be careful –’
‘He warned you to be careful,’ said Hannasyde; ‘but if you think back, you’ll find that he never pretended to know anything until others were beginning to suspect it. The instant he realised that some at least of you felt that Mr Silas Kane’s death had not been investigated enough, he gave you to understand that he had thought so all along. When your motor-boat sank, and you, in company with everyone else, were convinced that your half-brother had run her on the rocks, did he tell you he thought the boat had been tampered with?’
‘No, he jolly well did not!’ growled Timothy.
‘No, not then,’ said Jim. ‘But when I told him that Timothy and Miss Allison had got the wind up about it –’
‘He said that he had suspected it from the start,’ interjected Hannasyde.
‘Well, yes,’ admitted Jim. ‘He did.’
‘Of course. It was quite safe once the idea of foul play had entered your head. He tried to make you – and incidentally me – think that Mr Paul Mansell was the villain of the piece. He played his part very well indeed, but he slipped up yesterday. Up till that moment I had regarded him in the light of a somewhat tiresome amateur detective – we meet a good many, you know. But that slip of his made me sit up and take a certain amount of notice. You will remember that I came to call on you, Mrs Kane, to find out what you could tell me about the Leightons?’
‘Yes,’ said Emily. ‘Not that I knew anything about them.’
‘Roberts was present,’ continued Hannasyde. ‘My question must have jolted him badly, for he made a mistake. He hinted, very broadly, that Mr Clement Kane had murdered his cousin, and went to some trouble to demonstrate how unlikely it was that two such dissimilar murders should have been committed by the same man. Until that moment he had insinuated that Paul Mansell was responsible for both deaths.’
‘Quite true,’ agreed Sir Adrian. ‘One is led to suppose that he had not anticipated that you would look farther than the Mansells, or – er – me, perhaps.’
Hannasyde acknowledged this thrust with a twinkle, but Lady Harte said stringently: ‘I’ve had enough of that nonsense, Adrian! This whole case astounds me! I’m not squeamish: I’ve knocked about the world too much to be easily upset; but the idea of a man deliberately setting out to dispose of three people so that his wife would inherit a fortune absolutely appalls me!’
Rosemary, who had till then been too much surprised to say a word, now made a contribution to the discussion. ‘I can believe anything of that man!’ she said intensely. ‘I’ve had the most extraordinary feeling about him from the moment I set eyes on him. I didn’t like to say anything about it, but my instinct is hardly ever at fault.’
‘So you’ve said before,’ replied Emily. ‘Don’t interrupt!’ She looked at Hannasyde. ‘I dare say he thought Maud was Clement’s heir, eh?’
‘Very probably,’ agreed Hannasyde. ‘I too find it difficult to believe that at the outset he contemplated the murders of three people. Two he might have got away with; the third, though inevitable once the first two had been committed, made the whole position very dangerous. He was gambling for a big stake; having gone so far, he couldn’t think of giving up. So instead of being able to withdraw from the scene, and to be next heard of as Edwin Leighton in Sydney, he was forced to remain here until he had succeeded in disposing of Mr James Kane.’
‘Extremely hazardous,’ said Sir Adrian. ‘I suppose, had his wife indeed succeeded Clement Kane, he would have continued to be an errant husband until she was safely in possession of the fortune.’
‘I imagine so. Of course, we don’t know whether she was aware of his plot. I hardly think she can have been; but from what Mrs Kane told me, I gathered that once he elected to return to her she would do exactly as he told her.’
‘I dare say,’ said Emily scornfully.
Jim walked over to a side-table, whereon Pritchard had set a tray earlier in the evening, and began to pour out drinks. ‘This has absolutely got me down,’ he confessed. ‘Of all the diabolical schemes – ! He must have calculated to the last second the time it would take him to reach the front door from the study window. He even made an appointment to see Clement at three-thirty that afternoon. I suppose partly as a blind, partly to make it fairly certain that Clement would be in his study. If he hadn’t been there, no doubt the murder would have been postponed. He must be a complete devil.’
‘No, not entirely,’ said Lady Harte. ‘He did rescue Timothy. I can’t forget that.’
‘It’s beastly!’ said Mr Harte violently. ‘He – he pretended to be trying to guard Jim, when all the time he was waiting to do him in! I think – I think it’s the limit! I don’t care if he did rescue me! I’d rather not have been rescued by him, and I jolly well hope you catch him!’
‘Oh, we’ve done that,’ said Hannasyde. ‘You helped a lot, you know.’
‘Did I?’ said Mr Harte. ‘I say, you’re not pulling my leg, are you?’
‘No, you really did help. When I found the revolver this morning I was sure Roberts was the man I was after, but I wasn’t sure that the Department would succeed in tracing the gun. You told him I’d found the gun and the fuse, and that I knew the noise you all heard hadn’t been caused by the shot that killed Mr Clement Kane. Once I’d discovered the fuse the game was up, and he knew it. You led him to think that I suspected Pritchard; he saw his one chance of making a getaway, and seized it. As soon as he’d got rid of you, he shaved off his beard and moustache, and caught the eleven-thirty train to town. Sergeant Hemingway was shadowing him, and he was taken into custody at three this afternoon – detained for inquiries.’
Mr Harte looked a little dubious. ‘Well, I don’t see that I did much,’ he said candidly. ‘I mean, I never knew I was doing anything.’
‘Never mind,’ said Hannasyde. ‘You made him run, and that was what I wanted him to do.’ He accepted the glass Jim Kane was holding out to him. ‘Thank you.’
Lady Harte got up and shook him vigorously by the hand. ‘Well, really, I think we owe you a debt of gratitude, Superintendent!’ she said. ‘You’ve cleared the whole thing up most satisfactorily. I for one am extremely grateful to you.’
This sentiment was echoed by Jim and Miss Allison. Sir Adrian, sipping his whisky, said: ‘I congratulate you, Superintendent. An astonishingly difficult case.’
Hannasyde looked a trifle embarrassed, and made haste to disclaim any extraordinary astuteness.
‘Nonsense!’ said Lady Harte briskly. ‘You’ve done a very fine piece of work, hasn’t he, Aunt Emily?’
Emily, who was feeling tired, said: ‘I dare say he’s been very clever; but I’m not at all surprised. I never did like that Roberts.’ She gave her shawl a twitch, and added with a certain grim satisfaction: ‘I always said those Australian Kanes were an encroaching lot.’
About the Author
Georgette Heyer wrote over fifty books, including Regency romances, mysteries, and historical fiction. Her barrister husband, Ronald Rougier, provided many of the plots for her detective novels, which are classic English country house mysteries reminiscent of Agatha Christie. Heyer was legendary for her research, historical accuracy, and her inventive plots and sparkling characterization.
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They Found Him Dead Page 27
