‘As you say. Yes. But what you say isn’t what I said; it isn’t the whole thing, and parts of it aren’t anything. I said she was drowned days ago, and there were indications of her being drowned in such water as that of Colborn’s decayed swimming-pool. Not proof. Couldn’t be proof. Only curious and interestin’ indications. Uncomfortable, but irresistible.’ He looked at Lomas with large, plaintive eyes. ‘I don’t like it. But we have to fit ’em in. You said the place had been watched since the garden-party. That isn’t true. There was a gap. Watch began next day. Thus leavin’ one clear night. At the garden-party people were meetin’ round about the pool—Colborn, Ann Deal, unknown young woman called nurse. The same night a man came out of Nurse Benan’s flat. But since that day she’s sunk without trace—and now we’ve found a young woman’s headless body and we’ve missed a man with a fattish bag. That’s the whole thing, Lomas. Not preposterous. Ghastly. And futile. Why are policemen?’
Lomas sat silent, frowning. Then he exclaimed: ‘You are the man in the street, Reginald. Blame the police, whatever happens.’
‘Oh, yes. Yes. The natural man. I am. With a reasoned faith in the permanent inefficiency of all officials. Faith justified by works.’
‘You talk about reason!’ Lomas said, with ferocity. ‘Do you suppose you’ve given me a reasonable theory of the case?’
‘No. I haven’t. Materials inadequate. That’s what I complain of. We’re futile.’
‘Speak for yourself. You’re as futile as a cheap newspaper, cursing at large because we can do nothing without evidence.’
‘Oh, my Lomas!’ Reggie reproached him. ‘A woman’s been murdered. Had you noticed that? I’m cursin’ because we didn’t stop it.’
‘How the devil could we?’
‘My dear chap! Oh, my dear chap! We didn’t try. However. Study to improve. The first-felt want is somebody who knew the departed Nurse Sybil Benan.’
‘That’s right,’ Bell agreed heartily.
‘Certainly,’ said Lomas. ‘But suppose the body can be identified as hers, which isn’t too likely, where are we, Reginald? Neither young Colborn nor Deal had any reason for making away with her. She wasn’t dangerous to them. Your own evidence is that old Colborn wasn’t murdered.’
‘Oh, no. I said I couldn’t prove he was. But the nurse might have been able to swear to it. And there is another reason possible for the elimination of Nurse Benan, if she was the nurse who met our Mr Colborn and Ann Deal by the pool. That young woman didn’t like seeing ’em together. He didn’t like her being there. Indications of uneasiness and jealousy strongly marked.’
‘You mean the nurse had an affair with Sam Colborn before he took up with Miss Deal,’ said Bell eagerly. ‘Ah, that’s saying something. That puts it on the usual lines of a trunk murder—man getting rid of the woman he didn’t want any more. Crime of passion.’
‘Yes. I should say there was passion about,’ Reggie murmured.
‘Quite. We can assume that,’ Lomas nodded. ‘But how far can you go towards identifying the body in the trunk with the woman you saw by the pool?’
‘Same sort of age, same sort of figure, same sort of fair skin. That’s all.’
‘Doesn’t amount to anything,’ Lomas said, with contempt.
‘No. It doesn’t. By itself. But it’s quite a lot to work on. Only you won’t do any work. I told you to search Nurse Benan’s flat days ago. You wouldn’t. You were very correct. Feelin’ correct still, Lomas?’
‘I still prefer not to act without justification,’ Lomas told him. ‘Of course the case is altered now.’
‘Yes. It is. Woman’s been murdered. But we’ve been quite correct. Grateful and comfortin’ reflection. Have you got your blessed search-warrant?’
‘Don’t worry.’
‘Worry!’ Reggie’s voice rose, and he stared with round eyes. ‘Oh, my Lord! I want to see the place quick.’
‘If you like,’ Lomas shrugged. ‘Take him along, Bell.’
‘What celerity! But I want more. I want young Colborn asked if he saw Nurse Benan by the swimming-pool at his party. Question one. And when he saw her last. Question two. Turnin’ to our eminent physician, Dr Harvey Deal. Ask him what hospital Nurse Benan was trained at. Question one. If she’d ever had trouble with her right knee. Question two. And when he saw her last. Question three. Then you can get on to the hospital for description and identification.’
‘Thank you. I had thought of it,’ said Lomas acidly.
‘Well, well,’ Reggie’s voice was soft. ‘Fancy that! And you will still forget to remove the men watching Colborn’s place, won’t you?’
‘What?’ Lomas exclaimed.
‘My only aunt!’ Reggie moaned. ‘You would have removed ’em!’
‘Of course I shouldn’t,’ Lomas snapped. ‘Not now.’
‘Bless you for those kind words,’ Reggie smiled sadly. ‘Come on, Bell.’
The block of one-room flats to which they came was in a back street of Marylebone. Bell instructed him that nothing was known against the place—most respectable—built for working women—pretty well all of ’em nurses and doctors’ secretaries and that sort of thing, with jobs in the medical quarter close by—but you couldn’t say it was fishy in itself a man should have been seen coming out of Nurse Benan’s flat. No rule against it; not even a custom. Only, nobody would be allowed to stay on who didn’t behave decent.
‘No. I’m sure she did,’ Reggie murmured. ‘However. There was a man.’
Bell’s assistant, Sergeant Underwood, had no difficulty in opening Nurse Benan’s door. They passed from a tiny hall into a bed-sitting-room, the blinds of which were down. When Underwood let the daylight in, they saw a bed draped to look like a divan, a bureau writing-desk, and other cheap, good furniture all in order. Reggie gave a glance round and went on into the bathroom. That also had been left neat and spotless. The towels had been used, but were dry and clean. He opened the white mirrored cupboard, and found in it comb and hairbrush.
Bell joined him. ‘Hallo! Left them behind. That don’t look like she meant to leave home.’
‘No. Unintentional absence is indicated. She didn’t take her toothbrush. Or her sponge.’ Reggie frowned at the hairbrush and drew out some yellow hairs.
‘What about them, sir?’ Bell asked. ‘Are they the right colour for the woman young Colborn called nurse?’
‘Oh, yes. Just about. Also for the woman without a head.’ Holding them in the palm of his hand, he continued to frown at them.
‘Bobbed yellow hair, eh?’ Bell said.
‘That is so. Yes. Woman called nurse was bobbed. I wonder.’ He put them away in an envelope. ‘Hair to match. Collect the brush too. And what has our young friend Underwood found?’ He returned to the bed-sitting-room.
‘Seems to have left a good lot of clothes, sir,’ Underwood told him. ‘And a couple of suitcases. No sign of having taken anything.’
‘Found a grey silk coat and skirt?’
‘No, sir. Nothing like it. Why?’
‘That’s what the nurse by the swimming-pool was wearing.’ Reggie wandered round the room. Bell sat down to the bureau and began to go through drawers and pigeon-holes. ‘Hallo! Here’s her hospital,’ he announced. ‘She was trained at St Bede’s. Some letters too. Patients and relatives, and one from Dr Harvey Deal, thanking her for work in a very difficult case.’
Reggie glanced round. ‘I wonder,’ he murmured. ‘Date?’
‘May twelvemonth, sir.’
‘Well, well. Wonder if that patient also died. However.’
‘My oath!’ Bell muttered, and searched on fiercely. ‘Nothing else to signify, sir. Nothing from young Mr Colborn.’ Reggie sat down at the bureau, turned over the letters, looked at the blotting-pad beneath. The blotting-paper had been little used and some writing was clear upon it. He started up and took it to the bathroom and
held it to the mirror. ‘S. Colb… Heath… Toot…’ appeared from a corner and in the middle. ‘Dear… must speak… meet… fête… if… can’t… come… swim… my dear… can’t… Syb…’
Reggie looked back into Bell’s grim face at his shoulder. ‘Nothing from our Mr Colborn. No. Something to him though,’ he said.
‘Here, we’ll have to get this photographed,’ Bell growled. ‘That might give us the whole letter.’
‘Yes. Possible. However. We know what the letter was meant to say. That’s enough to put up to our Mr Colborn. Come on.’
They came back to Lomas and showed him the blotting-paper and turned it over to the photographers.
‘Good work, Reginald,’ Lomas smiled. ‘You are getting us somewhere now.’
‘Not me. No.’ Reggie shook his head. ‘Only doin’ the obvious and findin’ the always probable results. And we’re not anywhere. What have you done?’
‘I have the answers to your little questions. Young Colborn admits that he did see Nurse Benan down by the pool at his party, and says he’s never seen her since. Deal says she was trained at St Bede’s and he knows nothing of any knee trouble, and he hasn’t seen her for months. The hospital says she was twenty-eight, blonde, blue eyes, about five foot six and nine stone, and she had a cartilage removed from her right knee while on the staff. That tallies with the body in the trunk, what? And I take it the wound on the knee was inflicted to obliterate the scar.’
‘Yes. That is the obvious inevitable inference,’ Reggie said slowly. ‘Body about right. Not a nice case, Lomas.’
‘It is not. This won’t do for an identification, however sure you feel.’
‘I said so,’ Reggie complained. ‘However, we will now ask Dr Harvey Deal and our Mr Colborn to give us their opinion of the remains. Have ’em brought along to the mortuary.’
‘Damme, you don’t expect them to identify a headless body? They’d be crazy.’
‘Don’t expect anything. I haven’t expected anything that’s yet happened. My error. My gross error. No imagination. I ought to have followed that nurse at the fête. However. I can take pains. I’ll try everything. Bring ’em along. It’ll shake ’em up. And we might have reactions.’
‘I agree.’ Lomas nodded. ‘Quite justified.’ And Reggie made a sorrowful noise at him.
In the mortuary, the headless body lay covered by a sheet, a dim shape under the twilight. Bell brought in Dr Harvey Deal, who was talking fast: it must be understood that he protested; he could not possibly identify a mutilated body as Nurse Benan even if it was she; he had never been her medical attendant; he—
Reggie came forward from the shadow with a sharp interruption. ‘Switch on the lights, Bell,’ and as he spoke he drew back the sheet. The body and its wounds gleamed stark.
Deal stood still. ‘Really, Fortune,’ he gasped.
‘Look at her,’ said Reggie.
Deal approached the body with mincing steps, and made a perfunctory examination and swallowed and turned away. ‘I can only tell you that I am quite unable to give an opinion.’
‘You’re not doin’ yourself justice,’ Reggie told him. ‘I ask you if you see any reason why that could not be Nurse Benan.’
Deal hesitated. ‘It—it is a question to which I should answer No, with every possible reservation. I see nothing definitely incompatible. But you must be aware, Fortune, that is very, very far from evidence of identity.’
‘I am. Yes. What about the decapitation?’
‘Brutal,’ Deal exclaimed.
‘Oh, yes. Yes. Would you say it was done with skill?’
‘I—I—had not considered,’ Deal stammered. ‘You know very well it’s not a matter on which I should care to claim the authority of an expert.’
‘No. But you can give an ordinary medical opinion.’
‘If you ask me—but it’s quite out of order, Fortune—I should have thought there was very little skill.’
‘And the wound on the knee?’
‘I can’t understand that at all,’ Deal said in a hurry.
‘Very well. Thank you. Good night.’
‘I must be allowed to say, Fortune, that I do consider this most unnecessary and unjustified.’
‘You think so?’ Reggie murmured. ‘Good-bye.’ He nodded at Bell and Deal was led out, and a moment later Sam Colborn was brought in.
He came with a swagger but, like Deal, stopped short when he saw the naked, headless body.
He growled something profane, then broke out: ‘Expect me to identify that? I told you I couldn’t. It’s a blasted outrage, whoever she is, bringing a fellow in to stare at her. And Nurse Benan, I never saw her, except like everybody else.’
‘Could it be Nurse Benan?’ Reggie asked.
‘I don’t know, damn you. I can’t tell what she’d look like, like that. I don’t believe she’s dead, if you ask me.’
‘Why?’
Colborn scowled at him. ‘She wasn’t the sort to get herself killed.’
‘Oh. Compliment?’
‘Yes, it is. She knew her way about.’
‘You think so? She seems to have lost her way. She’s vanished, Mr Colborn. Unless she’s on the table there.’
‘I don’t believe it.’
‘Well, well.’ Reggie sighed, and went to the door and called Underwood, who brought him a portfolio. ‘Thank you.’ Reggie turned. ‘Mr Colborn, have you had a letter from Nurse Benan lately?’
‘No, I have not.’ Colborn was truculent.
‘Really? You were surprised to see her at your garden-party?’
‘I didn’t expect to see her, if that’s what you mean. No reason why she shouldn’t come.’
‘You weren’t pleased, were you?’
‘Oh, I know you were eavesdropping. You think you got on to a bit of scandal, do you? Well, you’re wrong.’
‘I said nothing about scandal. Do you recognise that writing?’ Reggie handed him a photograph of the writing on the blotting-pad. Some more words had come out, and now it read: ‘Dear Mr Sam… must speak… meet… fête… if we can’t, do come… by the swim… where… you know… my dear… can’t, can’t… Sybil.’
Colborn flushed as he read, and he crushed the photograph in his hands and looked up at Reggie with a glare in his greenish eyes. ‘It’s a fake! It’s a damned fake!’ he roared.
‘Oh, no. Written in Nurse Benan’s room. Blotted on her blotting-pad. Any explanation?’
‘I never had it. I never saw the thing.’
‘Had she any claim on you to account’—Reggie paused and directed his eyes to the body—‘to account for her writing you that letter?’
Colborn turned his back on the body. ‘No, she hadn’t. Nothing.’
‘Letter’s a surprise to you?’
‘I say it’s a fake! That’s all I’m going to say.’
‘Do you deny the writing is Nurse Benan’s?’
Colborn scowled at him, and decided to say, ‘I don’t know her writing.’
‘Oh. Good night,’ said Reggie.
Colborn stood a moment staring at him, then made off without a word. ‘Well, well,’ Reggie murmured. ‘The end of a perfect day.’ He drew the sheet over the body, and his round face was pale and miserable. He went out, switching off the lights.
Bell was at the telephone, reporting to Lomas. Underwood whispered: ‘Both of ’em being trailed, sir. That’s fixed up all right.’
‘Yes. Day after the fair. Several days. However. The mind is empty, Underwood. Oh, my Lord—empty!’
Bell turned from the telephone. ‘Mr Lomas would like to speak to you, sir.’
‘Bless him,’ Reggie groaned, and took the receiver. ‘Hallo! Yes. Deal did shy at admitting there was any evidence of skill in removal of head and incision on knee. And there isn’t. Not exactly. Operations not performed as a medica
l man should. On the other hand, they’re not crude. Either by somebody who only knew a bit, or by somebody who didn’t mean to show competent skill.’
‘Rather suggests Deal himself, doesn’t it?’ said Lomas. ‘Doctor careful not to leave proof he was a doctor.’
‘Yes, one of the possibilities. And heaven only knows what an operation by Harvey Deal would look like afterwards.’
‘Don’t love him, do you?’ Lomas chuckled. ‘I don’t blame you. On the other hand, that letter was in Nurse Benan’s writing. We’ve got some documents from the hospital, which she did write, and they match. That’s not too good for Colborn. So it’s about fifty-fifty against each of ’em. And yet it don’t make a case, what?’
‘Oh, no. No. Not yet. However. I call this a day. No more from Reginald. It’s dark—oh, my hat, it’s dark.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I can’t see in the dark,’ Reggie was plaintive. ‘I want to see the much-advertised swimmin’-pool. And so to bed. Risin’ early in the mornin’, I proceed to the swimmin’-pool. With an active and intelligent police officer. With our Sergeant Underwood. Will that do?’
‘Good luck to you,’ said Lomas.
‘Luck!’ Reggie’s voice rose. ‘No. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in the stars, but in ourselves that we are underlings. Pleasant dreams.’ He hung up and turned to Underwood. ‘At my place?’ he asked mournfully. ‘Bright and early?’
‘Six o’clock, sir?’ Underwood suggested.
‘My dear chap! Oh, my dear chap!’ Reggie moaned. ‘There isn’t such a time. Not to live in. Say seven.’
And when Underwood arrived in the morning, he was already eating strawberries and cream. ‘Have some?’ he invited. ‘No? Coffee? No? Oh, my dear chap. Don’t be so superior. Any news?’
‘Just a bit, sir. On leaving the mortuary, Deal went home. When Colborn was let go, he went there too, and was in the house a couple of hours. So they thought well to have a confab., you see. Then Colborn went straight back to his own place. Last I’ve heard is that our chaps there saw nobody about in the night, and Colborn hasn’t gone away yet. Deal’s still at home too. Looks like they settled to face things out.’
Deep Waters Page 21