No Wind of Blame

by Georgette Heyer

  The Inspector pulled it open, disclosing various gun accessories, and a broken box containing a handful of cartridges. ‘I’ll take these, if you please,’ he said.

  ‘Take what you like,’ said Ermyntrude. ‘Oh dear, whatever does this mean?’

  ‘It means, madam, that your husband was shot by someone who had access to these guns.’

  Ermyntrude flung out her hands in a wide gesture. ‘But that’s anyone!’

  ‘It can’t be quite anyone,’ said the Inspector. ‘It must have been someone who knew the house pretty well.’

  ‘Lots of people know it well enough to find their way to the gun-room. Any of Mr Carter’s friends, for instance. Oh dear, it seems to make it worse, somehow, knowing he was shot with one of my first husband’s guns! I don’t know what to think!’

  The Inspector followed her back to the drawing-room, where she sank on to the sofa, looking as though she were on the verge of bursting into tears. This danger was averted by her suddenly becoming aware of his presence. It seemed to annoy her; she said sharply: ‘Well, what more do you want? I should have thought you’d done enough for one morning!’

  ‘Not quite,’ replied the Inspector. ‘I want to ask you a few questions about Mr Carter’s dealing with Percy Baker.’

  Ermyntrude’s sagging shoulders straightened. ‘I’m not going to discuss it! It’s painful enough for me without you dragging it all up and insulting me with it.’

  ‘You informed me, madam, that Baker demanded five hundred pounds from Mr Carter.’

  ‘Yes, and if you ask me it was nothing but a try-on! Blackmail, that’s my name for it!’

  ‘I think I’d better tell you, madam, to save misunderstanding, that Baker denies that he ever asked for such a sum.’

  Ermyntrude was quite unimpressed. ‘You don’t say so! I suppose you expected him to admit he’d been blackmailing my husband?’

  ‘I’ve reason to believe he may have been speaking the truth,’ said the Inspector slowly.

  Ermyntrude’s eyes began to kindle wrathfully. ‘Oh, you have, have you?’

  ‘Are you quite sure that five hundred was the sum your husband told you?’

  ‘Yes, I am quite sure. Do you suppose I’d made a mistake about a thing like that?’ She got up, and went to the window. ‘Mary! Mary! Oh, there you are! Come in here, will you, dearie?’

  Mary, who was sitting under the elm-tree with Hugh and Vicky, came at once. Ermyntrude drew her into the drawing-room, and pointed to the Inspector. ‘That man has given me the lie!’ she declared. ‘It’s not enough for me to have my husband murdered, I’ve got to be bullied and brow-beaten by the police!’

  ‘That’s not fair, madam. All I’m doing is to ask you if you’re sure the evidence you’ve given is correct. There’s no need—’

  ‘Silence!’ said Ermyntrude, rather magnificently. ‘Mary tell that creature how much money Wally wanted to pay off the Bakers!’

  ‘Five hundred pounds,’ said Mary.

  ‘Thank you, dearie. Now perhaps you’ll be satisfied, Inspector Cook?’

  Mary glanced quickly towards the Inspector. ‘Is there some doubt about that? Five hundred was certainly the sum my cousin told me. I can’t have been mistaken, for I thought it was out of all reason, and I said so.’

  ‘Very well, miss,’ said the Inspector. ‘I won’t need to trouble you further at present. Good day, madam!’

  After he had gone, Ermyntrude continued to fume until she was struck by the thoughtful expression on Mary’s face. She demanded to know its cause.

  Mary said worriedly: ‘Aunt Ermy, why did he put that question?’

  ‘Don’t ask me, love! Well, I never did like policemen, and it just shows you, doesn’t it? As though I’d make up a thing like that! Why, whatever would I do it for, when the one thing I dread is everyone finding out about Wally’s goings-on with that girl?’

  ‘Not you,’ Mary said. ‘There’s no doubt Wally did say five hundred. He said it to you, and he said it to me. But was it true?’

  ‘But heavens alive, ducky, even Wally wouldn’t ask me for five hundred for his mistress, unless he couldn’t get out of it! I mean to say!’

  ‘You knew already about Gladys Baker. It wasn’t like making a confession to you. Supposing he wanted five hundred?’

  ‘Mary, what’s come over you? I never grudged Wally a penny! He could have had five hundred any day!’

  ‘Not for something you disapproved of.’

  Ermyntrude blinked at her uncomprehendingly. ‘I don’t get what you’re after, dear. I don’t know what I could have disapproved of more than his getting that Baker girl into trouble, I’m sure!’

  ‘Aunt Ermy, do you mind if we have Hugh in? I’ve got an idea in my head, and I don’t know whether I ought to tell the police, or – or whether it’s all too vague. But if they’re suspicious of Baker, because of this five hundred pound business, and all the time he didn’t ask Wally for it, surely I ought to – Hugh would know!’

  ‘Well, I don’t mind his hearing about it. But what about Lady Dering? We can’t leave her all alone out there, can we?’

  ‘She’s gone.’ Mary went to the window and called to Hugh.

  He came, but not unaccompanied. Vicky stepped into the room ahead of him, and inquired what the Inspector had wanted.

  ‘Oh, Vicky, you could have knocked me down with a feather! They’ve found one of your poor father’s rifles in the shrubbery! It’s quite true; it isn’t in the case.’

  ‘Good Lord!’ said Hugh. ‘Then – who could have got hold of it, Mrs Carter?’

  ‘Anybody!’ said Ermyntrude.

  ‘Not Baker,’ said Mary. ‘Surely not Baker! How could he have known about it? That makes me feel more than ever that he didn’t ask Wally for that money!’

  Hugh said frowningly: ‘What’s all this?’

  ‘Mary darling, you aren’t coming unstuck or anything, are you?’ asked Vicky.

  ‘No. But I – I rather think I know something the rest of you don’t. And I can’t help feeling it may have something to do with Wally’s going to the Dower House yesterday, though what it has to do with his being shot, I can’t quite see.’

  ‘Do you mind being a little more explicit?’ said Hugh. ‘What is it you think you know?’

  ‘I believe Wally and Harold White had some scheme on hand for making money. He said something to me – oh, more than once! – about making his fortune, all through White. As a matter of fact, it was when I rather went for him about lending money to White. He had lent him money, you know, Aunt Ermy, and I told him he’d no right to. And then he said that about making his fortune, and White putting him on to a good thing. I didn’t pay much heed at the time, but now I can’t help wondering. It would be so like him!’

  ‘I’m afraid I haven’t grasped the gist of this, Mary,’ said Hugh. ‘What’s the connection between this, and Baker?’

  ‘Wally knew Aunty Ermy wouldn’t give him money to invest in any scheme of Harold White’s making. Then Aunt Ermy found out about Gladys Baker. Do you think – do you think he could possibly have made up that story of being blackmailed for five hundred, to get money for whatever scheme it was White had put up to him?’

  Hugh, who had listened in blank amazement, said: ‘Frankly, no, I don’t. Good Lord, Mary, think it over for yourself ! It’s preposterous! Dash it, it’s indecent!’

  ‘She’s very likely right!’ said Ermyntrude, in tones of swelling indignation. ‘That would just be Wally all over! Oh, I see it now! The idea of it! Getting money out of me to save a scandal, as he knew very well he would, and then blueing the lot on some rubbishy plan of White’s!’

  ‘Do you mean to tell me you seriously believe that to get money for an investment, he would have told you he was being blackmailed by the brother of a girl he’d seduced?’ s
aid Hugh. ‘Look here, Mrs Carter, surely that’s too steep!’

  ‘Oh no, it isn’t! I can see him doing it!’ said Ermyntrude. ‘There never was such a man for turning things to good account. Oh, it fairly makes my blood boil!’

  ‘I – I should think it might,’ said Hugh, awed.

  Ten

  Hugh, although he was becoming inured to the vagaries of Ermyntrude and her daughter, was not prepared to find them accepting Mary’s theory with enthusiasm. But, within five minutes of her having explained it to them, nothing could have shaken their belief in its truth. Ermyntrude, indeed, seemed to feel that such duplicity on Wally’s part was unpardonable; but Vicky accorded it her frank admiration.

  ‘It’s rather sad, really, the way one never appreciates a person till he’s dead,’ she said. ‘Oh, I do think it was truly adroit of him, don’t you, Ermyntrude darling? Do you suppose it had anything to do with his being murdered?’

  ‘Even if it were true, why should it have?’ asked Hugh.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be at all surprised if we discovered it was all part of some colossal plot, and wholly tortuous and incredible.’

  ‘Then the sooner you get rid of that idea the better!’

  She looked at him through the sweep of her lashes. ‘Fusty!’ she said gently.

  Hugh was annoyed. ‘I’m not in the least fusty, but—’

  ‘And dusty, and rolled up with those disgusting mothballs.’

  ‘Ducky, don’t be rude!’ said Ermyntrude, quite shocked.

  ‘Well, he reminds me of greenfly, and blight, and frost in May, and old clothes, and—’

  ‘Anything else?’ inquired Hugh, with an edge to his voice.

  ‘Yes, lots of things. Cabbages, and fire-extinguishers, and—’

  ‘Would you by any chance like to know what you remind me of ?’ said Hugh, descending ignobly to a tu quoque! form of argument.

  ‘No, thank you,’ said Vicky sweetly.

  Hugh could not help grinning at this simple method of spiking his guns, but Ermyntrude, who thought him a very nice young man, was for once almost cross with her daughter, and commanded her to remember her manners. ‘One thing’s certain,’ she said, reverting to the original topic of discussion, ‘I shall ask that Harold White just what he wanted with Wally yesterday!’

  ‘Yes, but ought I to say anything to the Inspector?’ said Mary.

  ‘I don’t think I would,’ said Hugh. ‘Unless, of course, you find that your theory is correct. Frankly, I doubt whether he’d believe such a tale.’

  ‘No, I don’t think he would,’ agreed Vicky. ‘He’s got a petrified kind of mind which reminds me frightfully of someone, only I can’t remember who it is, for the moment.’

  ‘Me,’ said Hugh cheerfully.

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if you’re right!’ said Vicky.

  ‘I’m ashamed of you, Vicky!’ said Ermyntrude.

  Mary echoed this statement a few minutes later, when she accompanied Hugh to his car, but he only laughed and said he rather enjoyed Vicky’s antics.

  ‘You don’t have to live with her,’ said Mary.

  ‘No, I admit it’s tough on you. Seriously, Mary, do you believe that your extraordinary cousin really did make up that blackmailing story?’

  ‘It’s a dreadful thing to say, but I can’t help seeing that it would be just like him,’ replied Mary.

  Harold White, to whom Janet faithfully delivered Ermyntrude’s message, walked over to Palings after dinner. The party he disturbed was not an entirely happy one, for the Prince, who did not believe in letting grass grow under his feet, had been interrupted at the beginning of a promising tête-à-tête with his hostess, by the entrance into the room of Vicky and Mary. This naturally put an end to his projected tender passages, and he was annoyed when he discovered that neither lady seemed to have the least intention of leaving him alone with Ermyntrude. Mary sat down with a tea-cloth which she was embroidering, an occupation, which, however meritorious in itself, the Prince found depressing; and Vicky (in a demure black taffeta frock with puff sleeves) chose to enact the role of innocent little daughter, sinking down on to a floor cushion at her mother’s feet, and leaning her head confidingly against Ermyntrude’s knees. As she had previously told Mary that she thought it was time she awoke the mother-complex in Ermyntrude, Mary had no difficulty in recognising the tactics underlying this touching pose. The Prince, of course, could not be expected to realise that this display of daughterly affection was part of a plot to undo him, but he very soon became aware of a change in an atmosphere which had been extremely propitious. He made the best of it, for it was part of his stock-in-trade to adapt himself gracefully to existing conditions, but Mary surprised a very unamiable look on his face when she happened to glance up once, and saw him watching Vicky.

  When Harold White came in, maternal love gave place to palpable hostility. Ermyntrude cut short his speech of condolence, by saying: ‘I’m sure it’s very kind of you to spare the time to come and see me, Mr White. I hope it wasn’t asking too much of you!’

  ‘Oh, not a bit of it! Only too glad!’ responded White, drawing up a chair. ‘Poor old Wally! Dreadful business, isn’t it? The house doesn’t seem the same without him.’

  ‘I dare say it doesn’t,’ said Ermyntrude. ‘But what I want to know, Mr White, is what Wally was doing at your place yesterday.’

  He looked slightly taken aback. ‘Doing there? What do you mean? He wasn’t doing anything.’

  ‘What did he go for?’ demanded Ermyntrude.

  ‘Look here, Mrs Carter, I asked poor old Wally to come over and have tea, if he’d nothing better to do, and that’s all there was to it.’

  ‘Well, I’ve got a strong notion it wasn’t all,’ said Ermyntrude. ‘What’s more, I’d like to know what that Jones person had got to do with it.’

  ‘Really, if I can’t invite a couple of friends to tea without being asked why—’

  ‘That’s not so, Mr White, and heaven forbid I should go prying into what doesn’t concern me, but it seems a funny thing to me that you should be so anxious to get Wally over to your place – which you won’t deny you were, ringing him up no less than three times – if it was only to see him drink a cup of tea. Besides, he was murdered.’

  ‘Well, you don’t think I murdered him, do you?’ retorted White.

  The Prince rose, begging his hostess to excuse him. ‘You wish to speak privately to Mr White, Trudinka. You will permit me to vanish.’

  ‘You needn’t vanish on my account,’ said White. ‘I’ve no secrets to talk about.’

  The Prince, however, bowed himself out of the room; and Ermyntrude announced that she did not believe in beating about the bush. ‘What I’m asking you, Mr White, is, had you and Wally got some deal on which I wasn’t supposed to know about?’

  ‘Who’s been telling you anything about a deal?’ asked White suspiciously. ‘It’s news to me!’

  ‘That’s as may be, but I hope you aren’t going to tell me you haven’t gone into a whole lot of deals with Wally in the past, because I wasn’t born yesterday!’

  ‘I suppose,’ said White, his colour darkening, ‘you’re hinting that I happen to owe Wally a bit of money. You needn’t be afraid, Mrs Carter: naturally I shall pay it back to you. As a matter of fact, it isn’t due till Wednesday, but of course if you’re anxious about it you can have it before. It was just a loan to help me over a temporary embarrassment. That’s what I liked about Wally. He was open-handed.’

  ‘Yes, it’s very easy to be open-handed with other people’s money!’ said Ermyntrude. ‘Not that anyone’s ever called me mean, and as for my hinting about it, such a notion never entered my head, and I’m sure I’m not worrying about being paid back, so don’t think it!’

  Matters seemed to be becoming a trifle st
rained. Mary said: ‘Perhaps you wonder at Mrs Carter’s asking you that question, Mr White, but the fact is that my cousin said something that led us to believe that he was contemplating some sort of a business deal.’

  ‘He may have been, for all I know. I suppose I’m not the only person he could do business with?’

  ‘There’s no need for you to be offended,’ said Ermyntrude, incensed by the sneering note in his voice. ‘Considering you’ve time and again led poor Wally into investing money in schemes which never turned out to be a bit of good—’

  ‘Look here, Mrs Carter, you’ve never liked me, and you needn’t think I haven’t known it. I’m sure I don’t blame you; it’s a free world, and you can like whom you damned well please. I don’t know what you think you’re getting at with all this talk about my having a secret deal on with Wally, but if you’ve got some notion of dragging me into the poor chap’s murder, and making out it was in some way connected with a business deal which I was leading him into, you can drop it, because you’re a long way off the mark. And if that’s all you wanted to see me about, I’ll say, good night! You needn’t trouble to show me out!’

  Ermyntrude took him at his word, but Mary rose to her feet, and accompanied him to the front-door. When she came back into the drawing-room, Vicky said: ‘I thought he was awfully fallacious, didn’t you?’

  ‘No, I don’t think I did, really. After all, you were rather impossible, Aunt Ermy!’

  ‘If you ask me,’ said Ermyntrude darkly, ‘he was up to something. Ten to one, if Wally hadn’t been shot, he’d have been up to his neck in a plan to lose a lot of money by this time.’

  ‘Five hundred pounds,’ said Vicky. ‘Do let’s tell the Inspector, Mary!’

  ‘I’m not going to. In fact, I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t said anything about it. Moreover, Hugh doesn’t think the Inspector would believe a word of it.’

  ‘Well, I think we ought to broaden his mind,’ said Vicky. ‘Or do you feel that this is really a case for Scotland Yard?’

  ‘Oh, my goodness, don’t suggest such a thing!’ exclaimed Ermyntrude. ‘I mean, what’s the use? Scotland Yard can’t bring Wally to life again, and when you think that I’ve got to face an Inquest, it’s too much to expect me to put up with detectives as well. Because you know, dearie, once they start, heaven alone knows what they won’t dig up!’