Crime at Guildford

by Freeman Wills Crofts

  ‘Thank you, madam, I’ll do so,’ French answered, and turned to the fatal Saturday’s attack. But here Mrs Minter could not help him. She had left home for the Sheen’s party immediately after lunch. At lunch her husband had seemed much as usual, though he was undoubtedly depressed. He had been depressed for some time, and she believed it was due to the precarious position of his firm, about which he had told her. He had certainly not complained of a headache, but she agreed with the chief-inspector that this was no reason to suppose he might not have been ill at five o’clock. After lunch, she had never seen him again—until she had identified his remains at Guildford.

  ‘What time did you get home, madam?’ French inquired.

  ‘About half-past eleven. I had supper with the Sheens and went with them to the theatre.’

  ‘Mr Minter was here when you left for your party?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I left him in here. He was lying on the sofa, smoking and reading.’

  ‘You live alone here, madam? I mean there was just yourself and Mr Minter and the servant in the house?’

  ‘That was all. We had no family.’

  French paused. This seemed to be all the information he could expect from Mrs Minter. He ran his eye quickly down his notes, then stod up.

  ‘I’m much obliged, madam,’ he said. ‘That’s all I require at present. Now, if you please, I should like a word with your maid.’

  Mrs Minter rang the bell. ‘Take these gentlemen into the dining room, Martha,’ she said, ‘and answer their questions.’

  The interview had been easier than French had anticipated. Mrs Minter had been unexpectedly philosophic about her husband’s death. Her manner, while correct, had remained cold and slightly contemptuous, and if she felt grief, she had certainly been successful in hiding it.

  The dining room faced towards the back of the house, and through its window French could see the little back garden. Once again he was struck with the ingenuity which had been shown in developing the tiny area. With its centre of grass, its summer-house and its background of shrubs, it might have been in the heart of the country.

  The maid said her name was Martha Belden, and that she had been with the Minters for five years. She described Minter’s state of health, much as Mrs Minter had done. She had evidently liked him, and was sorry for his death.

  On Saturday afternoon, she went on, Mrs Minter had gone out about half-past two. Mr Minter was on the sofa in the drawing room when she left. When Martha had washed up the lunch things she went up to her room and started some sewing. She stayed up there for perhaps an hour, then feeling cold, she brought her sewing down to the kitchen.

  ‘Was Mr Minter still in the drawing room?’ French interposed.

  ‘Yes, he was there all the time.’

  ‘Now just tell me how you know that?’

  ‘If he had come out of the drawing room I should have heard him. It’s a small house and I’ve got good ears. As a matter of fact, I did hear him come out and go back.’

  French smiled. ‘That’s pretty conclusive,’ he admitted. ‘What did he come for?’

  ‘To answer the telephone.’

  ‘Better and better. What time was that?’

  Martha paused. ‘About three. I was upstairs and was on my way down to answer it, but Mr Minter came out of the drawing room and did it himself.’

  ‘And he went back there when he had spoken?’

  ‘Yes, immediately.’

  French nodded. ‘Now, we’ve got to about three o’clock, with Mr Minter in the drawing room. Do you happen to know what that message was about?’

  Martha shook her head. ‘I’ve no idea,’ she declared, then after a moment’s pause she went on: ‘Mr Minter changed his plans that afternoon. He was going to leave before five, and then he didn’t go till after seven. I wondered if he had got a message then or later which made him do so. Of course, I don’t know that; it’s merely an idea I got that it might be.’

  ‘I’m glad you mentioned it. Now you said, “then or later.” Did Mr Minter get some other communication that afternoon?’

  ‘Yes, there was a second telephone message about half-past four. I was coming to that.’

  ‘Right. Go ahead in your own way. What happened after three o’clock?’

  ‘Well, as I said I stayed in my room till I began to feel cold and then came down to the kitchen. I suppose I came down about,’ she paused again, ‘half-past three or quarter to four. Mr Minter remained in the drawing room. About four the bell rang for tea and I brought it in. That was about quarter-past four. Mr Minter was still lying reading on the sofa.’

  ‘How did he seem?’

  ‘I didn’t notice anything one way or another. He seemed as usual.’

  ‘Would he have had tea if he was feeling ill?’

  ‘Oh, yes, he might. In fact, it was generally a cup of tea he asked for when he was feeling seedy.’

  ‘Very well. About quarter-past four you left it in for him. What happened next?’

  ‘About half-past four the telephone rang again. He came out and spoke. Then he—’

  ‘A moment. Did you hear what he said?’

  The woman looked slightly indignant. ‘No,’ she said shortly, ‘I didn’t.’

  ‘I’m not,’ said French, with a disarming gesture, ‘questioning your statement, but I noticed the telephone was in the hall, and the kitchen, I take it, is close by, and it would be natural for you to overhear some words. I’m not suggesting you would listen, you know.’

  Martha seemed mollified. ‘I didn’t hear,’ she repeated. ‘When he began to speak I pushed the door to, as I always do. I heard the murmur of his voice, but I couldn’t make out the words.’

  French nodded. ‘Very good,’ he said, ‘if you didn’t, you didn’t. Did he speak for any time?’

  ‘No, not very long. Well, he stayed on in the drawing room till about five, and then he went up to his room. I heard him moving about, and I think he was packing his things for the weekend, because he came down about ten minutes later with his suitcase. He left it in the hall and went back to the drawing room.’

  ‘That would bring it to about ten minutes past five?’

  ‘About that’

  ‘Very good. When did you see him next?’

  ‘When he was going away.’ Martha stopped suddenly and made a slight gesture of negation. ‘No, I’m wrong. I saw him for a moment before that. A man called, an out of work, asking for help. I don’t hold with giving to people at the door, but Mr Minter was very kindly that way, and he always had to be told when anyone called. So I went into the drawing room and told him. He gave me a shilling for the man.’

  ‘About what time was that?’

  ‘About six.’

  ‘And did Mr Minter stay in the drawing room till he left?’

  ‘Yes, except for going up to his room again before starting, he was in the drawing room all the time.’

  ‘Then what time did he leave?’

  ‘About half-past seven.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Did he walk or go by taxi?’

  ‘By taxi.’

  ‘Did you call it for him?’

  ‘No, it must have been arranged. It came to the door and the man rang.’

  French paused. ‘Who ordered the taxi?’

  ‘He must have done it himself, I suppose. I never thought. Or perhaps Mrs Minter did it?’

  French did not reply. It was unlikely Mrs Minter had done it, as unknown to her, Minter had changed the hour of his start.

  For the first time Carter spoke. ‘Perhaps, sir, that was one of the ’phones? Maybe he was ringing up a garage?’

  ‘But I understood you to say,’ French turned again towards Martha, ‘that the telephone bell rang and called him out of the drawing room on both occasions? Are you sure he didn’t come out and ring up either of those times?’

  ‘No, I’m quite sure the bell rang first each time.’

  ‘Well, we’ll have to get that cleared
up: not that it matters much. Where do you generally get taxis?’

  ‘We ring Nuttall’s Garage at the foot of the hill.’

  ‘You saw Mr Minter off?’

  ‘Yes, I put the suitcase in the taxi.’

  ‘Did you hear the address he gave?’

  ‘Yes, his office at the bottom of Kingsway.’

  In a way French felt disappointed in this interview. Martha’s manner was so convincing that he felt he must accept her statement. And if so, Minter’s day was now fully accounted for. It was impossible that he could at any time have had private access to the safe, and therefore, he must be acquitted of any connection with the robbery. However, before coming to a final conclusion French decided he would check up on the taximan who drove Minter. If his testimony supported the rest, he would have to realise that his first theory of the crime had gone west.

  9

  Enter Chemical Analysis

  ‘Now,’ said French, coming to a halt on the footpath, ‘Let’s see what we’ve to do still. We’ve got to see Minter’s doctor and we’ve got to find that blessed taxi. Which shall we do first?’

  ‘The doctor lives in this street, sir,’ Carter answered. ‘I asked the maid.’

  ‘Good!’ French approved. ‘Let’s get the doctor off our hands.’

  A hundred yards farther on a brass plate gleamed across the road. They went over and read: ‘J. Mortimer Fotherby-Wentworth, M.D.’ Another five minutes and they were in the doctor’s consulting room, asking for information as to the state of the late Minter’s health.

  Dr Fotherby-Wentworth, however, had little new to tell them, beyond the technical name for the deceased’s malady. He confirmed the statements already made to French about the attacks, their severity, symptoms, and duration.

  ‘Can you tell me whether the deceased was accustomed to use aspirin?’ French went on.

  The doctor shook his head. ‘If you mean, did I order it to him, I did not. But you know as well as I do, chief-inspector, that many people use it without asking their doctor. Whether he did or not, I don’t know.’

  This being all they seemed likely to learn, they took their leave. ‘Let’s get on to that garage,’ French said. ‘Where is the place?’

  Inquiries from a passing postman and a five minutes walk brought them to Nuttall’s garage, and a short further delay ran Mr Nuttall, the proprietor, to earth. French showed him his official card and was promptly invited into the office.

  ‘I’m anxious, Mr Nuttall,’ he began, ‘to trace a taxi which took the late Mr Minter of “Rapallo,” Peacehaven Avenue to Waterloo on last Saturday evening. I understand Mr Minter dealt with you, and I have called to ask if you did the job?’

  Nuttall looked up uneasily. ‘Yes, we did it. Nothing wrong, I hope?’

  ‘Not a thing,’ French assured him. ‘The matter concerns the late Mr Minter only. We want to know if he made any calls on his way to the station.’

  Nuttall nodded, opened a book, and began to turn over the pages.

  ‘What time on Saturday was the car ordered for?’ went on French.

  The man’s finger stopped on its way down the page. ‘This is it, I reckon,’ he said. ‘Rapallo, Peacehaven Avenue, 4.45 changed to 7.30 prompt.’

  ‘That’s the ticket,’ French returned. ‘Can you tell me how the change of time was sent?’

  ‘By ’phone.’

  ‘At what time?’

  ‘It happens that just by chance I can tell you that. We don’t note the time of the order, you understand, but only when the taxi’s wanted.’

  ‘Lucky for me, Mr Nuttall. What was the time?’

  Nuttall looked reminiscent. ‘It must have been just about three,’ he explained. ‘I took the call myself. I remember thinking the boy was away a long time on a message I’d sent him, and I looked at the clock.’

  This did not quite clear up the situation. Martha Belden had said that the ringing of the telephone had called Minter out of the drawing room both at 3 and at 4.30.

  ‘You didn’t by any chance ring Mr Minter up in the first instance, I suppose?’ French asked. ‘We were told he was rung up for that call, not that he rang up himself.’

  ‘He rang me up all right.’

  It looked then as if Minter had received some other call at the time, and had taken advantage of his being at the instrument to ring up the garage. The same explanation probably obtained in the case of the 4.30 call, when Minter had spoken to Norne’s butler. All the same French was mildly surprised that this call had not been made at 3 with the other.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Nuttall, that’s all I want from you,’ he said. ‘But I should like a word with the driver of the taxi.’

  French was having a run of luck. It appeared the man was in the garage. Nuttall sent for him.

  Joseph Weekes was an elderly man with brusque manners and a surly appearance. However, he seemed reliable, and when once he was made to understand that the interview was not a prelude to trouble for himself, told his story willingly enough.

  He had been instructed, he said, to call at Rapallo at 7.30 prompt, and he had done so: four or five minutes before his time in fact. Mr Minter had been waiting for him and came out at once and they started before time. The servant put a suitcase into the taxi and saw Mr Minter off.

  He had driven Mr Minter on different occasions, and knew his appearance. Mr Minter had told him to drive to Norne’s Limited, in Ronder Lane at the bottom of Kingsway. He had done so. Mr Minter had got out, had told him to wait, and had gone into the building. He had used a key.

  He, Weekes, had waited about quarter of an hour, and then Mr Minter had come out again with another man. The man was tall and he, Weekes, would know him if he saw him again. The tall man put Mr Minter into the taxi and told him, Weekes, to go on to Waterloo. He had done so. At Waterloo Mr Minter had paid him, adding a tip. Mr Minter had disappeared into the station and he, Weekes, had driven back to the garage.

  This testimony seemed to French finally to clinch that he had already received. Minter was innocent! The proof was complete and conclusive. And now it was borne in on French that at bottom he had never really suspected Minter. Theft of this kind was not in the man’s character, as he judged it.

  French felt as if he were completing a chapter of the inquiry as he marked Minter’s name off his list of suspects, and turned to consider the next which figured there.

  Norne! From the discovery of Norne’s finger-print on the glass in Minter’s room, with the suggestion this carried that he was the murderer, Norne had been the likely man. French saw that he must now concentrate on Norne as he had already done on Minter. An inquiry on similar lines should give him his result.

  Before going home that night he rang up Fenning at Guildford to report progress. He was guarded in the way he spoke, mentioning no names, and the super took the same precaution in his reply. It was clear from his investigations, French said, that the deceased was innocent of the robbery, and he was now considering whether the man they had suspected of murder couldn’t also be the thief. He was about to start checking up this man’s movements during the critical period.

  To this Fenning replied that in his own investigation he had already checked up the whole of the time spent by the man in question while at his home. This included two periods. The first was from his arrival about two o’clock on the Saturday afternoon up till his departure for Town about 10.15 on the Sunday morning. The second was from his return from Town about 1.30 on the Sunday, up till his leaving for the office on Monday morning. This left only the Sunday visit to Town to be inquired into.

  ‘What about the two nights?’ French asked.

  ‘I think you may take it the nights are all right,’ Fenning returned. ‘The car was definitely not taken out, and I don’t think he would have been fool enough to use anyone else’s.’

  To French this sounded reasonable, though he took a note to discuss the point with Fenning on their next meeting.

  To decide Norne’s innocence or guilt of the the
ft, French had then only to find out what the man did during Sunday morning. Had he paid his visit to Mrs Minter and then cleared out the safe before returning to Guildford? He could, French reminded himself, have cut a key from Minter’s during the night.

  French struck an apologetic note when next morning he called for the second time on Mrs Minter. He was exceedingly sorry to trouble her again, but as she would understand, in an inquiry of the kind fresh points kept on arising. He would keep her only a moment.

  Martha, who opened the door and listened to all this, seemed somehow taken aback. She said she thought Mrs Minter was engaged, but she would make inquiries. In the meantime would the chief-inspector wait in the dining room?

  French was by nature observant, and by use he had still further developed this faculty. He, therefore, noted when passing through the hall that a man’s coat, bowler hat and gloves were lying on a side table. He saw, further, that the hat, which was upside down with the gloves across it, bore upon its band the initials A.R. It was obvious that Mr A.R., whoever he might be, was madam’s guest in the drawing room.

  Now, French had many times noted the laying down of bowler hats. Most men place them as they are worn, crown uppermost. But a few invariably do the opposite and keep the brim up. Some, moreover, put their gloves into or on to the hat, and some lay them beside it.

  French gave no more than an automatic passing attention to the matter, which indeed did not interest him. He settled down to wait, but in less than five minutes there were masculine steps in the hall, the growl of a man’s voice, Martha’s ‘Good afternoon, sir,’ and the closing of the hall door. At once the maid came to the dining room and asked French if he would go to her mistress.

  On seeing Mrs Minter, French repeated his apology, adding that he hoped he had not come at an inopportune time.

  ‘Don’t apologise, chief-inspector,’ the lady answered in the same coldly contemptuous way as before. ‘It was only my cousin. What can I do for you?’

  French said he was grateful. He wanted, if Mrs Minter would kindly give it to him, a more detailed account of what happened on the previous Sunday morning in connection with Mr Norne’s visit. When he came, when he went, and things of that kind.