Death and the Visiting Firemen

by H. R. F. Keating

‘Couldn’t you see him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘He’ll be asleep now.’

  ‘You can wake him up.’

  ‘if anything happens to me I hope it’s never off your conscience,’ Wemyss said.

  ‘I’ll worry about that. Now go and see Schlemberger.’

  ‘All right. And you’ll forget about it all yourself?’

  ‘I shall remember it,’ Smithers said. ‘But I won’t make any use of it unless you give me cause. And now good night.’

  ‘Good night. I say, I’m sorry I made such a mess in here.’

  ‘That’s all right. It was the least of your errors.’

  ‘I suppose so. You still don’t think I ought to tell the inspector about Schlemberger myself?’

  ‘No, I think you can leave it.’

  ‘Right, if you say so. Good night.’

  The door closed. Smithers carefully tidied the room. Then he went and fetched his book. He read in bed for an hour.

  On the way down to breakfast next morning Peter said quietly to Smithers:

  ‘Sir, has the fish tried a bite yet?’

  ‘Not yet. But the bait is still there and I’ve got my eye firmly on the float.’

  ‘Will you let me know when the bite comes, sir?’

  ‘I make no promises.’

  They went into the dining-room. Although they were no later than they had been the morning before they were not the first down. Already Daisy, Kristen, Wemyss, and Fremitt were there. Only Schlemberger and the major were missing.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Smithers,’ said Daisy.

  A note of invitation.

  ‘Good morning. You were at the police station till very late last night. I didn’t see you before I went to bed.’

  ‘I was hoping somebody would say something about it,’ Daisy said. ‘No one else has managed a word. I was beginning to feel as if I’d caught halitosis from the night air - if halitosis is what I think it is.’

  ‘You want to talk about your conversation with the inspector, then?’ Smithers said.

  ‘Of course I do. It’s not often I’m the first to know something. I want everybody to be hanging on my words.’

  ‘The first to know something?’ said Wemyss.

  He glanced at Smithers.

  ‘That’s better,’ said Daisy. ‘Some interest at last. Yes, I think there has been quite a development.’

  ‘You were able to help them then?’ asked Fremitt.

  ‘To tell you the truth,’ Daisy said, ‘I don’t know. I told the inspector all I had to, and he twitched his great big nose over it the way he does. But I had the impression he knew it all along, and it didn’t somehow seem quite as important after that.’

  ‘Did that surprise you?’ said Smithers. ‘The inspector is a very intelligent man.’

  ‘I suppose he could have found out everything I thought I knew,’ Daisy said. ‘But, as nothing had happened about it, I had got the impression he couldn’t have done. Now I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve made a mistake.’

  ‘Then the lateness of our two absentees may not be significant,’ Wemyss said.

  ‘Oh good lord, did you think they were confessing?’ said Daisy. ‘It never occurred to me.’

  ‘That lets two of us out,’ said Kristen.

  ‘Now,’ Smithers said, ‘I don’t think this is a time for parlour games.’

  ‘Yes, it could get down to rather few people if I’m not careful,’ Daisy said. ‘Perhaps I ought to tell you straight away and put an end to my doubts.’

  ‘I think not,’ said Smithers. *You have put the matter into Inspector Parker’s hands. If he decides against you an apology in private would end the matter. We’ve had too many accusations.’

  ‘How nice to have all one’s problems settled so easily,’ Daisy said.

  ‘All the same,’ said Wemyss, ‘I wonder what has happened to Schlemberger?’

  ‘And Major Mortenson,’ said Fremitt. ‘He’s usually fairly punctual.’

  ‘Never mind them,’ said Kristen. ‘Daisy has got something to tell us.’

  ‘I was beginning to feel a bit out of the limelight again,’ Daisy said. ‘Thank you, dear. Because, you know, I really think I have got something to tell you.’

  The door opened and the old head waiter cam in.

  ‘Mr Schlemberger just telephoned,’ he said. ‘Heeasked you not to expect him for breakfast.’

  ‘Where did he telephone from?’ asked Wemyss.

  ‘I’m sure I couldn’t say, sir.’

  ‘Was it a long distance call?’

  ‘No sir, I don’t think so. I wasn’t asked to hold the line.’

  ‘Was it from a call box? Did you hear him press button A?’

  ‘No, I don’t think I did, sir. It seemed quite an ordinary call such as we often get from private houses in the neighbourhood.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Wemyss, ‘that’ll be all.’

  ‘Yes, sir. Was there any other lady or gentleman requiring anything?’

  Lingeringly the old man left them.

  Wemyss jumped up and closed the door.

  ‘What do you think has happened to Schlemberger?’ he said.

  ‘I don’t see why anything should have done,’ said Fremitt. ‘After all the major is every bit as late.’

  ‘He may have overslept,’ Wemyss said. ‘But Schlemberger is up and about. We know that. The question is, where is he? And what is he doing in someone’s house?’

  ‘They may have marked him down as an American tourist and offered him hospitality,’ said Smithers. ‘There may be a thousand and one explanations.’

  Wemyss looked at him.

  ‘You’re happy about his absence?’ he said.

  ‘Perfectly.’

  ‘But that doesn’t account for the major not being here,’ Fremitt said. ‘He may have been attacked.’

  ‘Or he may have run away,’ Kristen said. ‘Or anything. But I want to know what Daisy has found out.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Fremitt said. ‘I too am anxious to hear, naturally. But for some reason I find myself unquiet -1 think it’s not too strong a word - about Major Mortenson. After all he has an alibi. That is, of course, if we assume that whoever attacked Peter killed Hamyadis, and I really think we can. So may I make one small inquiry?’

  ‘I think we perhaps ought to,’ said Smithers. ‘The major has always been about early up to now.’

  Fremitt walked hurriedly across the room and rang for the waiter. There was not a long pause before he came back.

  ‘Was there something wanted?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Fremitt, ‘have you seen Major Mortenson this morning?’

  ‘I haven’t seen him myself, sir,’ said the waiter. ‘But I understand he has left his room. There was some talk about it in the kitchens.’

  ‘Left his room?’ said Fremitt. ‘With his cases? Or what?’

  ‘Oh, no sir, not with any cases. I meant simply that one of the housemaids was able to get an early start on the room. Is the major expected to be leaving then?’

  Avid curiosity.

  ‘No,’ said Smithers. ‘Major Mortenson isn’t expected to go. It was simply that your turn of phrase misled Mr Fremitt.’

  ‘I understand, sir. I’m sorry, sir.’

  Two short bows. Bland disbelief.

  ‘That will be all,’ Smithers said.

  The old man hobbled out.

  ‘Well,’ Kristen said, ‘are you going to raise the hue and cry and make fools of yourselves, or are we going to hear what Daisy has to tell us?’

  ‘I don’t think we need do more about the major than to wait for perhaps two minutes,’ Smithers said.

  ‘Why not?’ Fremitt said. ‘He may have left. Shouldn’t we at least let Inspector Parker know?’

  ‘There will be no need,’ said Smithers. ‘I caught a glimpse of Major Mortenson through the window just as Miss Kett was speaking. I think he will be joining us almost immediately.’

  The door opened and the major c
ame in.

  ‘Morning all,’ he said. ‘Just been down seeing that the horses were in good order. Wonderful morning.’

  ‘You’re not the only one to think that,’ Wemyss said.

  Quickly. In first.

  ‘Schlemberger apparently is in full agreement with you,’ he went on. ‘He’s out somewhere. Just telephoned to say he wouldn’t be in to breakfast.’

  ‘He did, did he?’ said the major.

  He glanced at Daisy.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’ve already let half the cat out of the bag, if that’s a thing you can do. I’ve told everybody I didn’t mean Mr Schlemberger.’

  ‘Or me?’ said the major.

  He laughed.

  ‘Had you broken my perfect alibi, eh?’

  ‘No,’ Daisy said. ‘I put the two of you together.’

  ‘Glad to hear it,’ the major said. ‘You know me. Sancta simplicitas. But what did the inspector make of your revelations last night? Are you being made Chief Constable tomorrow, or what?’

  ‘Well, I was telling the others,’ Daisy said.

  Kristen sighed.

  ‘I was saying that I’m a bit afraid I didn’t tell the inspector anything he hadn’t worked out for himself, but there was one odd thing. You know, if he already knew what I was going to tell him there was no reason why he shouldn’t be quite happy.

  After all that silly game with his autogyro had been successful yesterday. But he wasn’t happy at all.’

  ‘He may not like making an arrest. He may have doubts,’ Smithers said.

  ‘Dad may have told him he didn’t do it,’ said Peter.

  ‘That wouldn’t... ’ Wemyss began.

  And then stopped.

  ‘I think you’re quite right, Peter,’ Daisy said. ‘I think that’s exactly what your father did tell him. And what’s more I think the inspector did believe him.’

  ‘But why on earth?’ said Major Mortenson.

  “Because after I’d told him my story,’ Daisy said, ‘and it didn’t take all that long, then he really started putting me through the hoop again. He might have only just begun. And if you ask me he had. He was back at the beginning again.’

  Nineteen

  ‘Back at the beginning,’ Fremitt said. ‘No, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. You must have got the wrong impression. The police don’t go to all that trouble to find someone one day and then think they’re back at the beginning the next.’

  ‘Is that all you’ve got to tell us, Daisy?’ said Kristen.

  ‘It may not sound much,’ Daisy said. ‘But I’m convinced it means a lot. The inspector’s making a fresh start.’

  ‘Oh, come,’ said Wemyss, ‘You put us all into a great state yesterday with your intuitions, you can’t go on expecting us to believe them.’

  ‘None of them were intuitions,’ Daisy said. ‘I’ve not much use for those. I know what they’re like. I went to the police yesterday because I’d reasoned something out and I would never have rested till it was proved one way or the other while someone was perhaps suffering unjustly. Well, I might have been wrong over that. I’m not Aristophanes, or whoever it is about logic. But I’m not wrong about what happened to me at the police station. I know what people are getting at when they talk to me. And Nosey Parker was nosing away from the beginning again.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Wemyss.

  He caught Smithers’s eye.

  ‘At least,’ he said, ‘I mean I can’t really believe you, though I’ve no doubt you mean what you say.’

  ‘And I must reluctantly say the same,’ Fremitt added. ‘I’ve no doubt whatsoever that Inspector Parker intends to bring Joe Dagg to trial.’

  ‘Caught you that time, captain, he never damn well did.’

  The door open. Standing there grinning broadly: Joe Dagg.

  ‘Dad,’ said Peter.

  An arrow across the floor. Broad legs hugged. ‘Dad, you didn’t mind, did you?’

  ‘I’d have taken the hide off you if I’d caught you the first day,’ said Joe. ‘But as you turned out to be right and me wrong, I think it’s me that should be asking you if you minded. You know what it is, don’t you? I’m a bloody fool.’

  ‘Oh, no, Dad, you’re not. It was only because of the ‘copter that they caught you.’

  ‘You’re right there, lad. I had ‘em cold till then. I knew I had. Come to that, I could see that great peering flying bug coming for long enough. I nearly beat that too. I built a tunnel, did you know?’

  ‘We saw you get away, Dad. We were watching from the big hill just outside the town.’

  ‘Were you really, lad? I wish I’d known that. I’d have put on more of a show. What I ought to have done was to go round those coppers flattening them like a row of pancakes. They were asking for it you know. When I turned round and saw them strung out like so many bits of washing on a line I could have split meself. Did you see the way I tackled the bloke that was late for parade? He won’t be late again.’

  ‘Well, Joe,’ said Smithers, ‘we’re glad to have you back with us again, even though you don’t seem to be as repentant as you ought to be.’

  ‘Thank you very much, brigadier,’ said Joe. ‘But you’re wrong you know. I told the boy: I’ve been a bloody fool. I’ll tell anyone who wants to hear. If you want a specimen of a gormless pin-headed rapid-loading nitwit, look at Joe Dagg. Go on, I’ll say, take a good look, note the parties, it’s a classical case.’

  ‘They have let you out, haven’t they?’ said Kristen. ‘How can we tell you haven’t slipped away?’

  ‘What do you think I am?’ said Joe. ‘Houdini’s brother? Did you see the way they bundled me about? Handcuffs, strait jacket, ball and chain, and cut off me trouser buttons. I couldn’t have got out of that lot no more than I can say no to a pint of wallop.’

  ‘I think we can take his word for it, Miss Kett, don’t you?’ said Smithers.

  ‘I suppose so,’ Kristen said. ‘But if he has been let out...’

  ‘Let out. Let out,’ said Joe. ‘That’s the second time you’ve used the words. Makes me sound like what they call a mental detective.’

  He put his thumbs in his ears and wiggled his fingers in the air.

  ‘If he has been let out,’ said Wemyss, ‘we’ve been let in.’

  ‘I’m going to say I told you so,’ Daisy said. ‘It may be mean-natured, but when I’m right and everybody else is wrong I like to savour it to the full. Joe, I was the first to believe you were the inspector’s best friend.’

  ‘Thank you for that,’ Joe said. ‘Not true, of course. You should have heard the talking-to I got. After we’d sorted ourselves out, that was. It wasn’t so much what he said as the number of times he said it and the different ways of doing it that sprung naturally to his mind. Have you ever seen a chicken going around without feathers? Well if you have, that’s me.’

  He caught hold of Peter, swung him wildly in the air, and settled him neatly on one of his bull-like shoulders. A bench.

  ‘And were you out of doors all that time?’ Fremitt asked. ‘Do I gather that you didn’t have any house where you could hide or anything?’

  ‘That’s right, major. Out of doors from dawn till closing time. Free as air. That was Joe. The great nature lover.’

  ‘And you’ve suffered no ill effects?’

  ‘Never felt better in me life, except for heavy sinkings in the region of the stomach at the sight of old Nosey bearing down on me.’

  ‘Did you fret about the horses, Joe?’ said Major Mortenson. ‘I kept an eye on them. You saw we had them out once? Inspector’s idea, not mine.’

  ‘Cor, yes. I said to young Peter here at the time, it’s their idea of the spider and the fly, I said. Only old Joe’s a bit too fly to be caught by that sort of spider.’

  ‘Joe,’ said Smithers, ‘I’m not sure that you don’t owe us an explanation as well as Inspector Parker. What made you do it in the first place?’

  Joe scratched the back of his neck with a massive hand.


  ‘Plain unvarnished stupidity,’ he said. ‘And, now Peter, me boy, what about bringing your old Dad his favourite pipe? Haven’t tasted tobacco since I took to the great open spaces. You fetch me that, and run round the corner and buy me an ounce of dried hogwash, and then you’ll be treated to the pleasant spectacle of your poor old Dad going green in the gills.’

  He heaved the boy off his shoulder, twirled him round in mid-air, set him down, and gave him some money and aimed a mock kick at his trousers as he ran out of the door.

  Then quietly he closed the door and turned to face Smithers:

  ‘That’s why, of course,’ he said.

  ‘I thought as much. But you know it was ridiculously unnecessary.’

  ‘Don’t you start,’ said Joe. ‘I know just how unnecessary it was. Word of a police officer. But there was a bit more to it than you might think. The nipper’s not mine, you know.’

  ‘Not yours?’ said Smithers.

  ‘He’s a bit of a stray kitten,’ Joe said. ‘Left outside the pub one night. I found him, and I thought, “Poor little bleeder, life in an orphanage”, so I kept my mouth shut. Put out a bit of a story about my sister dying suddenly and got a woman in from the village for a bit. Not that I ever had a sister. I knew what orphanage meant. It’s a rude word whatever way you spell it. But, of course, I knew all the time that I wasn’t what the law calls right. I suppose really I’d pinched the boy. Still, it worked out okay for years. I did well by him. Sent him to a posh school, you know.’

  Simple pride. The mother hen.

  ‘And then, right out of the blue, all this business. And all your past being gone over. I couldn’t stand it. I know it was silly, but I saw them taking the boy away. And the more I heard about the cops the less I liked about them. So I said to meself, if they can’t get at you they can’t find nothing out about you, and off I went.’

  ‘Tell me,’ said Smithers, ‘“the dago who ran away with your wife”, was that what you might call protective colouring?’

  ‘I don’t know what you might call it, general, but I called it force of circumwhatsits. Somebody asks you something and you get a bit worried and make up some story. Then you start doing it when you don’t have to. It leads you on, as the clergyman said when he followed his nose into the dressing-rooms of the Folies Bergère.’