The Affair of the Bloodstained Egg Cosy

by James Anderson

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Murder

  The telephone at Alderley had never been used so intensively as it was in the hour following the discovery of Adler's body. Calls from Richard to the Prime Minister, from Deveraux to the head of his department, from Wilkins to his chief constable, followed in quick succession. Then Felman put through a long distance call to the Duchy. Later, came return calls for Deveraux and Wilkins. The instructions were explicit: to avoid undue publicity Scotland Yard was not, at least for the time being, to be called in; Wilkins and his men were to conduct the investigation, with Deveraux's collaboration and advice.

  The reactions of the rest of the party to the news of Deveraux's real reason for being at Alderley were mixed, varying from excitement on the part of Gerry, to a decided annoyance on her mother's.

  Meanwhile, the routine of murder investigation proceeded: photographs were taken; the Burfords, their guests and servants were fingerprinted; more policemen arrived and began a search of the park; away from Alderley, the hunt for Anilese de la Roche was intensified.

  Wilkins left at seven a.m., when most of the house party staggered to bed for a few hours sleep. He returned at eleven, and after spending a quarter of an hour with Leather, who'd remained, met Deveraux in the music room. With the automatic suspension of the political talks, Lord Burford had told them to use it as an operations room.

  'Well?' Deveraux said. 'What have you got?'

  'Very little,' Wilkins shook his head glumly. 'First, the Baroness's driver has hooked it. He was staying at the Rose &c Crown in the village, but he paid his bill and left late yesterday afternoon. A man answering his description caught the five-forty-two to London. He was alone. The car, of course, is still at the garage. Second, Adler must have died instantly. When Ingleby first saw the body at just four-thirty rigor mortis had already set in. Now, as you probably know, it doesn't normally occur until at least four hours after death; but as Adler didn't retire until one a.m., and was seen alive by several people right up to then, Ingleby says this must be one of those instances - which occur sometimes in cases of violent death -of rigor mortis setting in instantaneously. They call it a cadaveric spasm. He estimates - and he stressed he couldn't be too exact - that when he saw the body, Adler had been dead approximately two hours.'

  'With what sort of margin for error?'

  'At first he said about twenty minutes. When I pressed him to give an absolute minimum, he said he'd be prepared only to swear Adler was not killed later than three a.m..'

  Deveraux looked thoughtful. 'When Miss Clifton first heard the sound in the breakfast room, I'd just glanced at the luminous dial of my watch. It was two-forty-eight and a half. So we can say the alarm went off at two-forty-nine. We do know Adler was in the house until then, don't we?'

  'Yes; Leather's just told me the alarm has been checked: it had not been tampered with, and it worked perfectly. No one could have left the house before then without setting it off.'

  'Therefore, we can pin the time of death down pretty precisely. What else have you got?'

  'Something on that Wraith card: there were no prints on it and we rushed it to the Yard. I had a 'phone call at the station just before I started back here. It's genuine.'

  'Genuine?'

  'In the past, thieves wanting to divert suspicion onto the Wraith have had similar cards done - based on the reproductions in the papers. But this isn't one of those: it's identical in every respect with the cards left at the actual Wraith robberies: same quality cardboard, exactly the same size of card - and the drawing of the ghost run off from the same printer's block: there's a slight flaw in it. Now, nobody other than a few big chiefs at the Yard has ever had access to those cards. They've been described and photographed, but it's quite impossible that anyone could copy them so exactly. So this one has to be from the same batch as the others.'

  'Great Scott!' Deveraux looked staggered. 'That means the Wraith was actually in this house last night?'

  'Surprise you?'

  'It certainly does. I was sure somebody else had seen that magazine article and come here determined to take advantage of it - pinch the necklace and pin the blame on the Wraith.'

  'You suspected one of the guests?'

  'I did, yes. I imagined either that the other trouble here last night was a coincidence; or that the bogus Wraith used the commotion as a cover to steal the necklace. This puts all my theories back in the melting pot.'

  'Would you like to go over everything that happened last night - help me get it straight in my mind? I found the account a little confusing before.'

  'I'm not surprised,' Deveraux said.

  He carefully ran through all the events of the night as he knew them up to Wilkins' arrival. Then he said: 'Since then I've spoken briefly to everybody and asked them if they can throw light on any of it. But apart from the two girls, nobody admits to doing, seeing, or hearing anything.'

  'What about that scream?'

  'That must have been the Baroness. Both the girls were on the first floor at the time. Lady Burford and Mrs. Peabody say they were asleep in bed. There's no reason to doubt them. So unless it was one of the servants . . .'

  'Leather's been round with that butler chappie and spoken to each of them. They all swear they were in bed in their quarters all night. He believes 'em.'

  'So do I. In fact, old man, I'm quite certain none of the servants was involved in any way in either the murder or the robbery.'

  Wilkins was silent for a few moments, digesting all he'd been told. Then he said: 'Isn't it a bit fishy that all these people claim to have gone on sleeping with so much noise going on?'

  'Not really. Plainly not everybody's telling the truth about being asleep in bed, but we mustn't assume they're all lying. Alderley is tremendously solidly built, with thick walls and massive close-fitting doors, many of them with curtains behind them. There are deep rugs and heavy hangings everywhere. From the bedrooms you wouldn't hear much unless it was something really loud and happened in a room adjoining yours or in the corridor immediately outside. Last night there was very little noise actually in the corridor. When I was attacked, the only sound was a sort of scuffling. Likewise with Jane and Gerry - neither of them screamed or shouted. The three of us who were in the corridor all heard the noise in Adler's room, but I wouldn't expect anybody else to have done - don't forget Gerry's room is one side and Lady Burford's boudoir the other. The scream came after the thunder, remember: that could have muffled a lot of other noises.

  Wilkins grunted ruminatively. Then he asked: 'Got any theories at this stage?'

  'Not really. It seems to depend on who went out through the window. Let's assume that it was the Wraith. He'd broken in here during the evening, hidden, come out around two or quarter-past, entered the Peabodys' room and taken the necklace. He'd planned to break out through the breakfast room - either not knowing about the burglar alarm, or thinking he could circumvent it somehow - was interrupted, had to break the window, and got clean away. It may have been he who hit me and made the Baroness scream. If it was, Adler and the Baroness must have left later - after the alarm was set off.'

  'Then what happened?'

  'Take your pick. They ran into the Wraith, who shot Adler and kidnapped the Baroness. Or the Baroness was the Wraith's accomplice and went with him freely.'

  'The weakness of that theory is that the Wraith has never used violence - and several times he could have made escape much easier for himself if he had. Nor has he ever been known to have an accomplice.'

  'Right, let's say that neither Adler nor the Baroness had anything to do with the Wraith, and that she shot Adler herself. Or, that some third person, an outsider, shot him, and that the Baroness left with this man - either willingly or under duress.'

  'And suppose it wasn't the Wraith who broke the window?'

  'Then it must have been Adler. In which case, the Wraith and Anilese both got out later. That would clearly point to them being accomplices. Perhaps Adler saw them outside and t
ried to stop them: if the Wraith wouldn't use violence, perhaps the Baroness would. Or the same outsider met him and shot him.'

  Deveraux paused. 'Or somebody from the house followed him out, shot him, and came back. In which case the killer's in this house now. And that's the nastiest thought of all.'

  He spread his hands. 'Are those enough theories? I could probably go on. There are things I haven't touched on yet. The scrap in Adler's room, for instance - why didn't the innocent party call for help? Who drugged Fotheringay - and why? I haven't even speculated - and I must say I think this is highly commendable of me - on why I was attacked.'

  Wilkins managed a wan smile. 'Perhaps,' he said, 'we're speculating too much. I doubt we're going to get much further without some more facts.'

  'Yes, I agree. Such as an identification of the murder weapon.'

  'Oh, I'm sorry, I should have told you. We know something about that. The bullet was a 9mm; and there was something rather unusual about it.'

  'What's that?'

  'Apparently it was fired from a gun with left-hand twist rifling.'

  'What?' Deveraux almost shouted this.

  'What's the excitement? Do you know of a gun like that?'

  'Not a gun. Two. Come on. I'll explain as we go.'

  * * *

  They found a somewhat bleary-eyed Lord Burford devouring a late breakfast of devilled kidneys in the dining-room - the breakfast room window still being out. Richard was with him, drinking black coffee.

  'Any news?' Richard asked.

  'Not yet, sir,' Wilkins told him.

  'Gentlemen, this is a desperately worrying business. I don't mind saying among the four of us that these talks Adler and I were engaged in are extremely urgent. And we were already behind schedule. The draft treaty should have been signed by this time. Now Adler's dead. Heaven knows how long it will be before the Duchy can get an adequate replacement here -and then we'll have to start all over again. The delay could be very grave.' He broke off. 'I'm sorry. What was it you wanted?'

  'We've got some information for Lord Burford, sir. Lord Burford, they've dug the bullet out of Adler.'

  'Oh yes.'

  'It's a 9mm - fired from a gun with left-hand twist rifling.'

  Lord Burford dropped his knife and fork. 'But that's—'

  'The same as your Bergman Bayard. Very uncommon, isn't it?'

  'It certainly is. You don't think mine was used to shoot Adler?'

  'I don't know. But I think it would be advisable to check on it as soon as possible.'

  'Yes, of course. I'll take you up.'

  He led Deveraux and Wilkins upstairs and through the picture gallery to the gun room. He opened the door with one of the keys on a ring from his pocket and went in. They followed him, Wilkins staring round in wonder. Lord Burford hurried across to the case where he had displayed the Bergman and gave a sigh of relief. 'It's all right. It's still here.' He opened the case and made to lift it out.

  'Don't touch it, please,' said Wilkins. He took a pencil from his pocket, inserted it in the barrel, lifted the pistol to his nose on the pencil, and sniffed. He shook his head. 'Can't smell a thing. You say Mr. Peabody's got one the same?'

  Deveraux nodded.

  'We'd better go and have a word with him, then.'

  Lord Burford, who had had his eye thankfully on the precious firearm, suddenly gave what could only be described as a yelp. 'Wait a minute!'

  He made a grab for the gun. Wilkins tried to snatch it away, but was too late. It was in the Earl's hands.

  Wilkins gave a groan. 'Oh, my lord! Fingerprints!'

  But Lord Burford wasn't listening. He was peering at the pistol with popping eyes, turning it over and over in his hands. Then he lifted a reddening face to Deveraux.

  'This ain't mine.'

  Deveraux's eyebrows went up. 'Not yours? You mean it's Peabody's?'

  'No! This is a replica.'

  Deveraux stared at him. 'Are you sure?'

  'Of course I'm sure, you blitherin' idiot! Think I can't tell the difference between my own and a blasted copy? And it's not mine, either.'

  Deveraux looked bewildered. 'Not your what, Lord Burford?'

  'Not my - not my Bergman. It's a replica. Can't you understand? I've never seen it before. The Wraith's stolen my Bergman Bayard Special, blast him.'

  He wheeled round on Inspector Wilkins, brandishing the pistol under his nose. 'Wilkins, you'll get it back for me, won't you? Please. I only had it a month. Hardly anyone's seen it yet. It's priceless - practically unique.'

  'We'll do our best, my lord. But I shouldn't hold out too much hope. I'm not sanguine. I'm not likely to succeed in tracking down the Wraith when the best detectives in Europe haven't been able to.'

  The Earl gave a groan of despair. 'It's a judgement, that's what it is, a judgement.'

  'Judgement for what, my lord?'

  'What? Oh - things.' He looked at Deveraux. 'Sorry I snapped. Don't take any notice.'

  'That's all right, sir. Could you tell us if there's any ammunition missing?'

  'I'll see.' Lord Burford went to the ammunition cupboard, rummaged in it, took out a box, and counted. He looked up and said: 'Ten cartridges missing.'

  Deveraux looked grim. He said: 'Do you always keep this room locked?'

  'Yes, always.'

  'How many keys are there?'

  'Two.'

  'Where is the other one?'

  'Peabody's got it.'

  'Has he indeed?'

  'He's been spending so much time examinin' the collection that frankly I got a bit browned-off having to be with him all the time. So I gave him a spare key so he could come and go as he pleased.'

  'And he had the key overnight?'

  'Presumably.'

  'Where was your key last night?'

  'On my dressing table. I ought to put it in me study safe, really, I suppose - that's got a combination lock. But I don't usually bother.'

  'So actually anybody could creep into your dressing room adjoining your bedroom, pick up the keys, come here, take the gun, and replace the keys after, without you being any the wiser?'

  Lord Burford looked guilty. 'Afraid so.'

  'Did you take the keys with you when you went down in the night?'

  'No.'

  'When you picked up that bunch this morning, did you happen to notice if they were in exactly the same place as last night?'

  But Lord Burford couldn't say. Deveraux sighed. 'Well, we'd better have a word with Peabody.'

  'What - now?' Lord Burford looked a little startled.

  'Yes.'

  'Oh, I, er, don't think he's up yet.'

  'Then I'll have to wake him, I'm afraid.'

  Lord Burford bit his lip. 'Are you sure you really want to do that? I mean, I'm sure you've got other things to do. Why not let me talk to him for you?'

  'That's very kind of you, but I must speak to him myself -and as quickly as possible. It's important.'

  'Oh, all right then. I'll come with you.'

  They made their way to the Royal Suite and found Peabody in shirt-sleeves in his dressing room. His wife, he told them, was still asleep.

  'Any news of the necklace?' he asked eagerly.

  Wilkins said: 'I'm afraid not, sir. We wanted to ask you about another matter. Have you got the spare key to the gun room?'

  'Why, yes.'

  'Where is it?'

  'In the pocket of one of my suits. Do you want it?'

  'If you please, sir.'

  Peabody went to a clothes cupboard, reached in and came back with a key identical to the one on Lord Burford's ring. He handed it to Wilkins.

  Deveraux said: 'It was there all night?'

  'That's correct.'

  'Did many people know you had it?'

  'Why, yes. I made a jocular remark about it at tea yesterday. Took it out and said how I really figured I'd made it to the top now I'd got the key to the Burford collection.'

  'I remember,' Deveraux said. 'Nothing to stop anyone coming
in here last night while you were asleep in the next' room, taking it and replacing it later, was there?'

  'None, I suppose. Why, gentlemen, don't tell me somebody's robbed the gun room?'

  'In rather a big way,' Deveraux said. They've stolen Lord Burford's Bergman pistol and left a replica in its place.'

  'You don't say!' Peabody sounded shocked. 'Why, that's terrible. I can hardly believe it. Earl, I'm mighty sorry. I know how I'd feel if I lost mine.'

  Deveraux said: 'Yours is still safe, I suppose?'

  'Mine? Sure, it's over here.' He went across the room and picked up the case in which he kept the pistol. 'Here we are, gentlemen. The new pride of the Peabody collection.' He opened the case. Then he gave a gasp of horror. 'It's gone!'

  Lord Burford gave a squeak. 'What! Don't say the case is empty?'

  Peabody turned and held up the empty case for them to see. His face was a blank mask.

  In a whisper Lord Burford said: 'The bounder's got 'em both. The Wraith's nabbed the pair.'

  'But no replica left in place of this one,' Deveraux said.

  'You can see what happened,' Wilkins put in. 'He found out either about his lordship's or Mr. Peabody's gun, decided to try for it at the same time as he went for the necklace, and had a replica made to leave in its place. It wasn't until later, when it was too late to get a second replica made, that he discovered there was a pair of pistols under the same roof.'

  Peabody gave a groan. 'The New York exhibition. I cabled, entering mine.'

  'Don't worry, sir,' Wilkins said unexpectedly. They all looked at him. He spoke to Deveraux: 'I was wrong. The Wraith didn't take both those guns.'

  'I tend to agree with you,' Deveraux said. 'Tell me how your mind is working.'

  'Whoever took his lordship's gun took ammunition as well - so he intended to use it. Now the Wraith is not a killer. He'd only want the gun for its value. So although he may have stolen one of the pistols, he didn't steal them both: the other was taken by the murderer to shoot Adler. And if the killer's got an ounce of sense, he isn't going to have hung on to the gun after the shooting. He'll most likely have thrown it away in the grounds - probably in the lake. So I reckon it will turn up.'