Crime at Guildford

by Freeman Wills Crofts

  ‘Does this hunting in couples mean that you think his death was connected with the robbery?’ he asked.

  ‘We think so, sir.’

  ‘Very good. Go ahead.’

  ‘The matter is a little awkward,’ Fenning went on. ‘I think, chief-inspector, we’d better tell Mr Norne exactly what’s in our minds?’

  ‘It’s the best way,’ French approved, while Norne looked from one to the other with mild surprise, not wholly unmixed with apprehension.

  ‘Well, sir, it’s this,’ Fenning went on as Norne remained silent; ‘there are certain points about this case which, as I say, have got to be explained, and which only you can explain. These points—there’s no use in beating about the bush: I may as well tell you—these points suggest that you know more about the affair than you’ve told us. They suggest—well, I needn’t put that into words. Now, sir, I’m sure that there’s a good explanation for everything, but I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to make it.’

  The super paused as if unwilling to go on, and French could feel his anxiety lest he should commit himself to a wrong course. French came to his aid.

  ‘Not to put too fine a point on it, sir,’ he said, ‘these points of which the super is speaking seem at first sight to incriminate yourself. The super would like you to make a more complete statement than you have done.’

  ‘That’s it, Mr Norne,’ Fenning added, ‘though before you speak I must give the formal warning that you needn’t reply unless you like, and that if you do so, what you say may be used in evidence. At the same time, I hope you will see your way to give us the satisfaction which it’s our duty to ask.’

  French could have smiled to see how thoroughly Fenning was covering himself for a retreat in good order, should such become desirable. And then he suddenly grew more interested. Norne was beginning to exhibit all the traces of a bad conscience, with which French was so familiar. The man moved uneasily, then spoke with an attempt at a joke which fell flat as it was made.

  ‘This sounds very alarming, superintendent.’ He smiled unsteadily. ‘I hope you don’t mean to arrest me?’

  ‘Now, sir, I’ve said nothing about arrest. What we would like would be a fuller account of what took place in Mr Minter’s bedroom when you visited him on the Saturday night.’

  ‘I think I told you everything,’ Norne was beginning, but Fenning interrupted him.

  ‘No, sir, you have not. There was a matter of a glass.’

  Norne did not reply. He was evidently thinking deeply. Then as if coming to a decision, he said: ‘Well, and what if there was?’

  ‘Only, sir, that you should have told us about it. Have you any objection to doing so now?’

  ‘None,’ Norne said shortly, ‘though I don’t see what matter it makes. What happened about the glass was this. Minter was lying there groaning a little and evidently very sick. I said to him, “I’ll call the doctor,” as I’ve already told you. He said not to do so, as he had often been in that state before and it would shortly pass. “I’d like an aspirin,” he said then, and he went on to tell me to look in his waistcoat pocket for a bottle. I found it and then he said he would take two. “Shake out two and give them to me with some water,” he said. I did so. I shook out two and poured some water into the glass on the wash-stand and gave it to him. But he said on second thoughts he wouldn’t take it just then and to leave it beside him. This I did. I left it on the little table at the head of the bed. What about it all?’

  ‘Why did you not tell us that before?’ Fenning asked.

  ‘Why should I have? What did it matter?’ He paused, then with a gesture of throwing everything to the winds went on: ‘No, superintendent, I’ll tell you why I didn’t. When Minter was found dead I became panic-stricken that perhaps I had given him the wrong medicine by mistake and that unwittingly I might have poisoned him. I’ve been terribly upset in case that may have happened, and I am still.’

  ‘But you actually gave him nothing?’

  ‘No, but I put out what I thought were two aspirin tablets for him to take.’

  ‘Do you know if he took them?’

  ‘He must have. They were gone in the morning and the water was drunk.’

  ‘Did you touch the glass when you were in the room on the Sunday morning?’

  ‘No. I saw it there with the bottle. I didn’t touch either.’

  Fenning hesitated a moment. ‘I think I’d better tell you, sir, that Mr Minter was not poisoned.’

  Norne sat up with surprise and relief printed on every feature. ‘Not poisoned?’ he exclaimed. ‘That’s good news. Then what did he die of?’

  ‘That remains to be seen,’ Fenning said darkly. ‘Now your own statement’s not quite complete. You say that because you thought the deceased had died from poison, and that you might in error have given him that poison or put it in his way; because you thought this you wanted to keep it dark that you had handled the glass? Is that right?’

  Norne wiped the little drops of sweat off his brow. ‘Yes, that’s correct.’

  ‘But, sir, you must have known that your fingerprints were on the glass?’

  ‘Oh, was that how you got on to it? I didn’t think of it till the doctor was there, and then it was too late to do anything.’

  ‘But you didn’t know then that the death was not natural?’

  Norne shrugged. ‘I saw the doctor looking at the bottle and glass with a very grave expression, and when he said that he couldn’t give a certificate and that the police would have to be advised, I guessed something was wrong.’

  ‘You state positively that you didn’t wipe the glass?’

  ‘Most certainly I did not. I almost wish I had.’

  Fenning moved uneasily. ‘Now, I would like you to reconsider that point, Mr Norne. Let us all forget what you’ve said and go back to it afresh. I suggest your memory has been slightly at fault. Think now: did you not at any time wipe that glass? Remember, Mr Minter was not poisoned: it can’t injure you. But we want the truth.’

  Norne looked more puzzled than ever. ‘I assure you most solemnly I did nothing of the kind. I can’t think what you’re trying to get at.’

  ‘Then that’s all right,’ Fenning said easily. ‘I’m sorry for having troubled you about it, but you must admit it was your own fault. You should have told us about that business of the glass and not let us find your prints on it and wonder how they got there?’

  Norne passed his hand over his forehead. ‘I suppose I should,’ he admitted. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re satisfied at all events. But why did you ask me about the wiping?’

  ‘Because, sir, the glass had been wiped.’

  ‘It had?’ Norne shook his head helplessly. ‘That’s beyond me. It could only have been done by Minter, I suppose, but why he should have done it, I can’t see.’

  ‘Well, we’ll let that matter pass. Now, there’s another point. I understand from you that you and Sir Ralph Osenden and Mr Ricardo were here in this room before ten o’clock until Messrs Sloley and Sheen turned up about one. Is that so?’

  ‘Yes, that’s so, certainly.’

  ‘Were you here absolutely all the time without any exception?’

  Norne hesitated. ‘I don’t think I said that none of us left the room at all. As a matter of fact, I went to the morning-room for an old print that I had been describing. But that was only for a few minutes.’

  French and Fenning exchanged glances. ‘How long would you say you were out of the room?’

  ‘Ten or twelve minutes. I couldn’t find the print at once and had to look through a couple of biggish folios.’

  ‘What time was that, sir?’

  ‘About half-past ten, I should think. I didn’t look.’

  ‘And was that the only time you left the room?’

  ‘The only time.’

  ‘I follow. And the other two gentlemen? Did they leave the room between ten and one?’

  ‘Not unless it was during this period when I was getting the print.’

&nb
sp; Fenning sat silent for a few moments, then he spoke to French. ‘That’s all, I think, chief-inspector, that we want to ask Mr Norne?’

  French agreed. He and Fenning then set themselves to reassure the managing-director. Before they left they thought they had succeeded in doing so.

  ‘Guilty or not guilty,’ Fenning said as they drove down the hill from Guildown, ‘we’ve no case against him—not to take into court anyhow.’

  ‘Do you think there’s anything in his leaving the room?’

  ‘I thought there might be at first, but I’m not so sure now. We’ve Jeffries’ corroboration that he didn’t go upstairs.’

  ‘Quite.’

  ‘I may as well admit,’ Fenning went on in a sudden burst of confidence, ‘that I’m not at all sure he’s our man.’

  ‘He came out of the interview better than I expected,’ French returned. ‘I agree with you, super, you haven’t enough to go on. I watched him while you were questioning him, and it was my opinion that he was speaking the truth.’

  ‘Mine too, chief. Well, if we’re right, it leaves us in the soup.’

  ‘Yes, if Norne’s not guilty, we’ve got to start right at the beginning again.’

  ‘What time’s your train? Can you come back to the station for a minute or two?’

  ‘Of course. Any train’ll do me.’

  ‘If we’re to believe Norne,’ Fenning went on when they had settled down with their pipes in his room, ‘the wiping of the glass becomes fundamental. If Norne didn’t do it, who did? Minter didn’t: we may bank on that. Even if for some unknown reason he had wiped it, he would never have grasped it in that particular way. So it means that some third person was in the room during the night.’

  ‘That’s also proved by the disappearance of the two aspirin tablets—unless Minter put them back in the bottle. According to the analyst’s report, he hadn’t taken them.’

  ‘That’s so.’

  ‘What’s sticking me,’ French observed, ‘is this. According to Jeffries no one went into the room between ten o’clock and one. According to the doctor, Minter was suffocated before twelve. We seem to have got to a deadlock.’

  Fenning nodded. ‘I know, damn it all. It’s a confounded puzzle, chief. I don’t see light anywhere.’

  ‘Nor I. No light about the murder. No light about the theft. It’s not looking too well for either of us, super.’

  For some little time silence reigned, as both men sat puffing gloomily at their pipes and gazing before them into empty space. Then Fenning shook himself.

  ‘What’s the next move?’ he said as he got up and knocked out his pipe on the grate. ‘Have you a programme ready?’

  French took out his notebook and slowly turned the pages. ‘Considering the robbery, not the murder,’ he returned, ‘what I had in my mind was this: Norne and Minter were the men with the keys. Between us we’ve now gone into their movements during the critical period, and I’m satisfied neither of them opened the safe—for the simple reason that neither had the opportunity.’ French paused and added: ‘Except on one occasion.’

  Fenning looked up more hopefully. ‘It’s not my way to talk about mere unsupported ideas,’ French went on, ‘but as we’re discussing the thing I’ll break my rule. That one occasion, as I see it, was when Minter called at the office on the Saturday evening. What went on during that call? That’s going to be my next line.’

  The super’s hopeful look changed to one of disappointment. ‘H’m,’ he grunted, ‘do you think there’s much to be got there?’

  ‘I don’t,’ French said frankly, ‘but it’s a straw and I’m drowning. That’s the best I can say of it.’

  ‘Just what’s your idea?’

  ‘Well, if the firm went down, Sloley and Sheen were going to sink with the others. They had a motive for the robbery, and if they somehow diddled Minter, they would have a motive for the murder: they wouldn’t want him to put two and two together when he learned the stones were gone.’

  ‘You mean they might have got Minter’s key?’

  ‘Something of that kind.’

  ‘What about Norne’s?’

  French shrugged. ‘I realise that difficulty. But if I get anything about that meeting in the office, it’ll be time enough to consider Norne.’

  ‘Of course,’ Fenning went on, ‘even if Sloley and Sheen had a motive for the murder, they couldn’t have committed it.’

  ‘You mean that they hadn’t the opportunity?’

  ‘I mean that they were in a theatre in London when Minter was suffocated in Guildford. I suppose, by the way, there’s no doubt of that?’

  ‘Next item on my list,’ said French. ‘I’ll make sure.’

  ‘Well, you’ve got something to go on with. I’m hanged if I have.’

  ‘I expect to be in the same position shortly,’ French rejoined. ‘What time is that blessed train, super?’

  On the way up to Town French’s thoughts remained concentrated on his problem. Sloley and Sheen! Could one or both of them be guilty?’

  The case against them which he had outlined to Fenning was plausible enough. They might have on some previous occasion taken an impression of Norne’s key, and so required only Minter’s to commit the theft, and they might have devised some plan to get Minter’s on that Saturday evening. Of course, they couldn’t have committed the robbery while Minter was in the office—unless Minter was party to it. Nor could they have stolen Minter’s key: he had it with him at Guildford. At most they could only have taken an impression of it. But could they not then have made a second key on Sunday evening and robbed the safe that night?

  This seemed possible, though French could not pretend it was extremely likely. All the same, he continued reviewing the probabilities of their guilt.

  In the first place, there was the question of motive. If the firm went down it would be as serious for Sloley and Sheen as for the others, and it might well be that they were not prepared to face such a disastrous prospect. Then further, they had arranged for Minter to call at the office. They wanted to discuss, or said they wanted to discuss, that return of Sheen’s about the probable response existing shareholders might make to a new issue. French was not a business man, but to him that return didn’t seem to be of a very valuable character. Was it a genuine contribution to the problem the directors had to solve, or was it devised simply as an excuse to get Minter to the office?

  So much supported the theory of their guilt. But there was the weighty argument against it pointed out by Fenning: the question of the murder. French didn’t see how either Sloley or Sheen could be guilty of the murder. If they weren’t, did it not mean that they were innocent of the theft also?

  Curse it all, the thing was very puzzling. However, his analysis had confirmed his decision. Sloley and Sheen were his only suspects. He must come to a definite conclusion as to their innocence or guilt. Before going to sleep he resolved that next morning he would start work on this new phase of the inquiry.

  11

  Enter Two Alibis

  The reports with which French began the next day proved dismal reading. Most careful watch was being kept by diamond merchants, jewellers, superior pawnbrokers, and those who dealt in gems, not only in England, but over most of the world, and not a single stone of the hundreds stolen had yet come to light. Whether the thieves had so far been unable to get rid of any of them, which French hoped; or whether their methods of doing so were so good as to leave no trace, which he feared; the result was the same. The line of inquiry which in such cases usually gave the best results, was proving barren.

  French sighed as he put the papers away and turned to the day’s programme. In accordance with his decision of the previous evening, he was to settle the question of Sloley and Sheen: if he could.

  With Carter, therefore, he presently went to the Norne offices and asked to see Sheen.

  He had already taken Sheen’s preliminary statement, and he began by expressing his regret at troubling him again so soon. Sheen said he w
as sure the chief-inspector’s was a most difficult job, and that so far as he was concerned, all he wanted was to help. ‘I’m as anxious as anyone that you should get hold of that stuff,’ he added. ‘If it’s not recovered the firm will go down, and if it goes down, there’s good-bye to my job. It’s a serious matter for people like myself, who are dependent on what they earn for their livelihood.’

  ‘I can understand it must be an anxious time, sir,’ French admitted, and their relations being thus established on an amicable basis, French turned to business.

  ‘I wish, sir, that you’d kindly repeat what you’ve already told me about that Saturday, only please give me this time the most complete detail. You were at work here that morning?’

  ‘Yes, I was here for my usual time: from about half-past nine till a few minutes before one.’

  ‘Quite. And then?’

  ‘Well,’ Sheen went on with a smile, ‘I told you that Saturday was an important day in my family. My little girl—my only child—was celebrating her tenth birthday. She was to have a children’s party in the afternoon, and was to be taken to her first theatre in the evening. It wasn’t actually her birthday, but it was the nearest day to it we could arrange. I needn’t go into that—it had to be a Saturday to suit me, and so on.’

  ‘That’s all right, sir. I can understand.’

  ‘Well, I had got the hint in the morning that it would ease preparations for the party if I were to get lunch down Town. If you’re a family man, I dare say you can understand that, too?’

  ‘I can, sir,’ French rejoined in heartfelt tones.

  ‘Quite. I take a light lunch, and I slipped into a café for some coffee, afterwards going on home. I got there, I suppose, about two. I think I already explained that I had spent the morning getting out my list of shareholders, but I don’t remember telling you why I was so anxious about that. It was to show my keenness and my desire to help. This was the first time I had been asked to join one of the directors’ conferences, and I wanted to justify the compliment which had been paid me. I’m being very open with you, chief-inspector, and I expect you not to give me away.’