Death in the Stocks: Merely Murder

by Georgette Heyer

  ‘Yes,’ said Giles. ‘I can.’

  Kenneth’s lip curled. ‘I see. Murder. You’re wrong.’

  ‘Not murder. Jealousy.’

  A flush crept into Kenneth’s lean cheeks. ‘Again you’re wrong.’

  ‘Very well, what was the reason?’

  ‘You’ve already heard me say that I didn’t leave the Albert Hall until past four.’

  ‘Is that statement likely to be corroborated by the other members of your party? Miss Rivers gave that alibi, not you. I was watching you; you weren’t expecting it. I think you nearly denied it.’

  ‘Why don’t you join the police-force?’ inquired Kenneth. ‘You’ve missed your vocation.’

  Giles got up. ‘You young fool, can’t you see what a tight corner you’re in?’ he said. ‘Lie to Hannasyde if you must, but if you lie to me you can look for another lawyer. I won’t touch your case.’

  ‘As you wish,’ Kenneth said.

  ‘Don’t throw him over, Giles!’ Antonia begged, a catch in her voice. ‘Please, please don’t desert us!’

  His face softened; he said more gently: ‘I shan’t do that, Tony. But I can’t handle a case where I’m kept in the dark.’

  ‘All very moving,’ remarked Kenneth. ‘So far I haven’t asked you to handle my case. Supposing someone in my party did lose sight of me for half an hour? Have you ever danced at the Albert Hall? It’s a largish sort of place, you know.’

  ‘Yes, and we sat out a good bit,’ Leslie said.

  Antonia looked anxiously at Giles. ‘You think he’s in a mess, Giles?’

  ‘I know he’s in a mess.’

  ‘Any fool could see that,’ said Kenneth contemptuously. ‘First I kill Arnold, then Roger turns up, so naturally I have to kill him as well. All for filthy lucre too. Take that worried look off your face, Tony; there’s no evidence.’

  ‘There’s your pipe,’ she pointed out.

  ‘They won’t hang me on that,’ he answered.

  They could get no more out of him than that. He walked up and down the studio, his hands in his pockets and his pipe clenched between his teeth. ‘It’s possible they may arrest me,’ he said, frowning.

  Giles, who had moved to the desk, and was flicking over the pages of the telephone directory, glanced up. ‘More than that.’

  ‘Very well, more than that. You ought to know. But it isn’t enough if they prove I left the Albert Hall during the dance. They must prove I went to see Roger, and that they can’t do.’

  Giles, having apparently found what he was looking for, shut the directory and laid it down. ‘Think it over,’ he advised. ‘And don’t overlook the fact that no one has so strong a motive as you for murdering Arnold, and then Roger. I’m going now, but if you come to your senses, ring me up!’

  ‘What, with a full confession?’ jibed Kenneth.

  Giles did not answer. Antonia went out with him, and at the front door detained him for a few moments. ‘Giles, it’s getting worse. I’m dead sure he was with Roger last night. You can always tell when Kenneth’s lying. He does it so badly. What will happen if they find it out?’

  ‘Tony, my dear, I don’t know, because I’ve no idea when he went there, or what he did there. But things are going to look remarkably ugly if he’s caught out in a lie. Everything points to him already.’

  ‘Yes, I can see that, but I don’t believe he did it all the same,’ she replied. ‘I wish Leslie hadn’t nipped in with that alibi before he had time to speak. I think she’s queered his pitch.’ She paused, and then said in a troubled way: ‘There’s one rather horrid thing, Giles. I don’t know whether you’ve thought of it. If Kenneth didn’t do it – who could have? Nobody else had any reason to kill Roger.’

  ‘Yes, I have thought of it,’ he said curtly.

  ‘I expect a jury would too?’ she suggested, raising her eyes to his face.

  ‘Undoubtedly.’ He took her hands, and held them comfortingly. ‘Don’t worry, chicken. I don’t believe Kenneth did it any more than you do.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Here’s one cheering thought for you at least: Mesurier looks like being cleared of all suspicion.’

  ‘Oh, him!’ said Antonia. ‘I’d forgotten about him. He’s fed-up with me, by the way. Not that I blame him. I don’t think I’ll get engaged any more. It doesn’t seem to lead anywhere.’

  ‘It will next time,’ said Giles. ‘That I promise you.’ He gave her hands a quick squeeze, released them, and ran down the stairs to his car.

  Five minutes later he drew up outside a house in a street leading up from the Embankment. It had been converted into two maisonettes, the one on the ground and the first floor having Violet Williams’s name on a brass plate beside the door.

  He rang the bell, and was presently admitted by a middle-aged woman in a dirty overall. Her method of announcing him was to call out: ‘Oh, Miss Williams, here’s somebody to see you!’

  Violet came out of a room at the front of the house. She gave an exclamation of surprise at seeing Giles. ‘Why, Mr Carrington! I’d no idea! Do come in!’

  He followed her into a sitting-room furnished in bleached oak with jade-green curtains and cushions. A table in the bay window had a litter of sketches on it, and the chair, pushed back from it, seemed to indicate that Violet had been working there. Giles said: ‘I hope I’m not disturbing you. You look as though you were busy.’

  ‘Of course not. Won’t you sit down? I apologise for the creature who let you in, by the way! I don’t keep a proper maid. She’s just a char who comes to clean in the mornings.’ She picked up a cigarette-box from a low table by the fireplace, and offered it to him. ‘Don’t think me terribly rude,’ she said, smiling, ‘but what on earth do you want to see me about?’

  He struck a match, and held it to the cigarette she had taken from the box. ‘I’m hoping you will be able to induce Kenneth to behave sensibly,’ he answered.

  She laughed. ‘Oh, I’m afraid he’s impossible! What has he been up to?’

  ‘I wish I knew, Miss Williams. You see, something rather shocking has happened. Roger Vereker has been found shot in his flat.’

  She gave a start. ‘Mr Carrington! Oh no!’

  ‘I’m afraid it is quite true,’ he said gravely.

  She put a hand over her eyes. ‘How awful! Poor, poor Roger. I never dreamed he was feeling it all as badly as that. I knew he was on edge, of course, but that he would actually – oh, it doesn’t bear thinking about!’

  ‘Was he in a very nervous state?’ Giles asked. ‘I believe you saw more of him than anyone – you would probably know.’

  ‘Yes, he was,’ she answered. ‘He had it fixed in his mind that the police were hounding him down. I was saying so to Kenneth only the other day. He didn’t see it – or wouldn’t see it, but then Kenneth isn’t always very observant.’ She let her hand fall. ‘But that he should have actually take his own life! I can’t get over it!’

  ‘I don’t think he did take his own life, Miss Williams.’

  She turned very pale. ‘You mean – oh, impossible!’

  ‘It was meant to look like suicide,’ Giles said, ‘but there are one or two circumstances which point rather conclusively to murder.’

  She shuddered. ‘I can’t believe that. Please tell me what reason you have for saying such a thing!’

  ‘My chief reason is purely technical,’ he said.

  ‘But the police – do they think it was murder?’

  ‘They think it very probable,’ said Giles.

  She was silent for a moment, still very white, her eyes fixed on the glowing end of her cigarette. She raised them presently, and said: ‘You mentioned something about Kenneth. But, whatever happened no one can suspect him of having had anything to do with it. He was at the Albert Hall last night with Leslie Rivers.’

  ‘He was at the Albert Hall, I know,’ agreed Giles. ‘But the Albert Hall is not five minutes’ walk from Roger’s flat, Miss Williams. Nor are the police at all satisfied that he didn’t leave the dance for a tim
e during the course of the evening. In fact, though he won’t admit it, I am pretty sure that not only did he leave the dance, but he also called on Roger.’

  ‘I’m sure he didn’t!’ she said quickly. ‘Why should he? There could be no reason for doing such a stupid thing.’

  He hesitated. ‘I think there was a reason,’ he answered. ‘May I speak quite frankly?’

  ‘Oh, please do!’

  ‘Well, Miss Williams, Kenneth has – as you probably know – a very jealous temperament. Do you remember that on the evening when we all dined with Roger he invited you to dine with him again on the night of the ball?’

  She said rather coldly: ‘Yes, certainly I remember that, but it was merely a joke.’

  ‘It is just possible that Kenneth took it seriously,’ Giles said.

  ‘Really, I think that is a little too ridiculous!’ she said, half-laughing. ‘Why do you assume that he was at Roger’s flat last night? Does he admit it?’

  ‘No. But we found his pipe, with the ash in it, on the mantelpiece in Roger’s sitting-room,’ he replied.

  ‘His pipe – ?’ she stared at him. ‘How do you know it was his?’

  ‘Both Hannasyde and I recognised it.’

  ‘Recognised a pipe!’ she exclaimed. ‘How could you?’

  He smiled. ‘To a pipe-smoker all pipes don’t look the same, Miss Williams. But that’s beside the point. Kenneth admitted it was his as soon as he saw it.’

  She looked at him with an expression of incredulous horror in her eyes. ‘But it’s impossible! I don’t believe it! What time was Kenneth in the flat? What was he doing there?’

  ‘That is precisely what I, as his legal adviser, want to find out,’ said Giles. ‘According to Miss Rivers he was never out of her sight the entire evening. Kenneth corroborated that statement, but only after a moment’s perceptible hesitation, Miss Williams. To put it baldly, he was quite obviously lying. His tale – or rather Miss Rivers’s tale – is that the whole party met after each dance, in the box they were sharing. Superintendent Hannasyde has only to question the other members of the party to find out whether that is true or not. If – as I am very much afraid – it is not true, Kenneth will be in an extremely dangerous position. And since he has this bee in his bonnet, that he’s capable of handling his own case without assistance, I can’t do anything to help him.’

  ‘But why do you come to me?’ she interrupted. ‘What has it got to do with me? What can I do about it?’

  ‘I hope very much that you will exert your influence to make him see sense,’ replied Giles. ‘He doesn’t realise how serious the situation is, nor how essential it is that I at least should know the truth about his movements last night.’

  She struck her hands together, as though exasperated. ‘He’s a fool!’ she said. ‘Why on earth should he elect to call on Roger last night? What took him there? It’s utterly mad!’

  ‘There is one all too obvious reason, Miss Williams,’ said Giles.

  She looked at him uncomprehendingly for a moment. ‘I can’t imagine –’ She stopped; her eyelids flickered. ‘I see what you mean,’ she said. ‘You will hardly be surprised at my not considering that. Nothing would induce me to believe that he had any hand in Roger’s death! You can’t think –’

  ‘No, I don’t think it,’ he said. ‘I am trying to discover what other reason he can have had for that visit. What I suspect is jealousy.’

  ‘I don’t understand you.’

  Giles said deliberately: ‘He heard Roger invite you to dine with him, Miss Williams. It was evident that he didn’t like the idea. He is, as I said, an extremely jealous young man, and we know that he resented from the outset any friendliness on your part towards Roger. Last night – at the eleventh hour – you cried off that dance, didn’t you?’

  ‘I never definitely said I’d go with him,’ she answered. ‘I always disapproved of it, and hoped he’d give it up.’

  ‘Quite. But you did allow him to think that you might go with him after all, didn’t you?’

  ‘Oh, to avert a scene – ! But I didn’t promise.’

  ‘At any rate, your last-minute refusal made him angry,’ said Giles. ‘Now, I know what Kenneth is like when he’s roused. I think that he lashed himself into suspecting that you had cried off the dance so that you could spend the evening with Roger. That may be why he called on Roger – just to assure himself you were not at the flat.’

  ‘I never heard of anything so insulting!’ she said, stiffening. ‘I in Roger’s flat at that hour? It may interest him to know that so far from being with Roger I was at home the entire evening! And if he doesn’t believe me, you may tell him to apply to Miss Summertown, who came to dinner with me and stayed till eleven, when I went to bed!’

  ‘I don’t suppose that in his cooler moments Kenneth would dream of suspecting you,’ said Giles in his calm way. ‘And if he went to Roger’s flat he must know you weren’t there, mustn’t he?’

  ‘Perhaps he suspects I hid behind a screen,’ she said icily. ‘I think it is just as well that I can produce a witness to prove that I was in my own home the whole evening!’

  ‘Well, please don’t condemn him on the strength of what may prove to be my idle imagination,’ he said, smiling. ‘He may have had another reason for going to see Roger.’

  She was silent, her lovely mouth compressed into a thin red line. She sat very straight in her chair, one hand clenched on the arm. There was an air of implacability about her, and the unconscious hardening of her face made her beauty seem a brittle thing, surface-deep.

  She turned her head presently, and looked directly at Giles. ‘You’re thinking that I’m stupidly annoyed?’ she said. ‘Well, I am rather annoyed, but that doesn’t matter. I mean, it’s so much more important to get Kenneth out of this dreadful mess. Personally, I have an absolute conviction that it was suicide. I don’t know what your reasons are for thinking it wasn’t, but I keep remembering things Roger said. I didn’t set any store by them at the time – at least not enough to foresee this – but now that I look back I can’t help feeling that I ought to have guessed. Only I don’t know what I could have done, quite, if I had. I did speak to Kenneth about it, but he paid no heed.’

  ‘It wasn’t suicide, Miss Williams.’

  She frowned. ‘I don’t see how you can say that so positively. Why wasn’t it?’

  ‘I don’t think you’d be much the wiser if I explained,’ he answered. ‘It is a question of where the empty cartridge-case should have been found. Moreover, I can’t for the life of me see what could have induced Roger to shoot himself when he must have known that there was no evidence against him. He was no fool.’

  ‘Technicalities about pistols are beyond me, I’m afraid. Where ought the empty case to have been found?’

  ‘In quite a different place,’ he replied. ‘There were other points too – minor ones, but significant.’

  ‘I see. But they can’t prove Kenneth did it. He might have left his pipe there any time, and if Leslie sticks to her story –’

  ‘If Arnold Vereker had not been murdered things might not look so black,’ he said. ‘But Arnold Vereker was murdered, and Kenneth had no alibi that he could prove. Everything he said was calculated to make the police look askance at him. He said he came here to see you. But he didn’t see you. According to him you were out. He then said he went to a cinema. But he didn’t know which one, and he slept through the greater part of the programme.’

  ‘Oh, I know, I know!’ she said. ‘He was utterly impossible.’

  ‘Well,’ Giles said, getting up, ‘he’s being just as impossible now, Miss Williams. It amused him to see how far he could fool Hannasyde over the first murder, and he was so successful that it has gone to his head. But he’s in a far more precarious position now.’

  She, too, rose. ‘Yes, I quite see. I’ll go round to the studio at once, and talk to him. Of course, he must take you into his confidence. I shall tell him so, and I expect he will call on you at your off
ice.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Giles. ‘I hope he will.’

  Twenty-one

  From Violet’s maisonette Giles drove to Adam Street, where he found his father upon the point of going out to lunch. Mr Charles Carrington looked him over, grunted at him, and said that he had better come to lunch too. ‘Heaven knows I don’t want to hear anything about this disgusting affair,’ he said irascibly, ‘but of course I shall have to. What’s more, your mother’s anxious. Says Kenneth isn’t capable of murder. Bunkum! Did he do it?’

  ‘Good God, I hope not!’

  ‘Oh! Feel like that about it, do you? Quite agree with you. Don’t like scandals. What was that red-headed little minx, Tony, up to last night?’

  ‘She was with me,’ replied Giles.

  ‘The devil she was! So your mother was – What were you doing, the pair of you?’

  ‘Dinner and the theatre,’ said Giles. ‘And mother was quite right. She usually is.’

  Charles Carrington coughed, and changed the subject rather hastily.

  Giles did not spend much of the afternoon in Adam Street. At four o’clock he put through a call to Scotland Yard, and having ascertained that Superintendent Hannasyde was in the building, left his office and drove to Whitehall. The news of Roger Vereker’s death was in the evening papers, and several glaring posters announced a startling sequel to the Stocks Mystery.

  At Scotland Yard Giles was conducted almost immediately to Hannasyde’s office, where he found not only the Superintendent, but Sergeant Hemingway as well.

  ‘I rather expected you to look in,’ Hannasyde said. ‘Sit down, won’t you? I’ve just had the report on the PM. You were quite right, Mr Carrington: Dr Stone considers that the pistol must have been fired from a distance of about two feet.’

  ‘When, in his opinion, did death occur?’ Giles asked.

  The Superintendent glanced down at the typewritten report. ‘Always a rather difficult question,’ he said. ‘Approximately between 10.0 p.m. and 2.0 a.m.’