Although Simon had small hope of such an enquiry proving successful, he readily agreed. Señor Cunliffe then said that his relations with the police were excellent, so he was confident that he could find out if they knew anything about the murder that his clients did not, and that he would come to see them again the next day.
On Saturday, the hours seemed to them to crawl by. The warders in charge of them proved well disposed. In addition to bringing them good meals and drinks, one of them went out and bought Richard some American magazines, and Simon two packs of patience cards. But, even with these aids for killing time, every few minutes their minds reverted to the promised visit from their lawyer and learning what he had found out from the police.
They had practically given him up when, at half past ten that night, they were taken from their cell to the interviewing room. Cunliffe was standing beside the table, looking very grave. When they had all sat down, he said:
‘I fear you have not fully confided in me. For your own sakes I must advise you very earnestly to do so. Now, what else have you to tell me about Miss Nathan?’
It seemed to Richard that it was a question of telling all, or nothing. Although both he and Simon were convinced that Nella had been murdered by Satanists, to prevent her revealing what she knew about the Black Power movement, he could not believe for one moment that, if they gave an account of the Sabbat and of how they had carried Nella off from it, they would be believed; so he replied:
‘I am sorry you distrust us. Señor; but we have already told you everything we know about this terrible affair.’
Simon backed him up by nodding vigorously.
Cunliffe stuck out his jaw aggressively. ‘I cannot accept that. When interrogated, Mr Aron lied to the police. You do not appear to have noticed that when, just now, I referred to the murdered woman, I did not use the prefix “Señorita”, but “Miss”. Mr Aron said she was a Chilean; but she was not. She was an American.’
‘What leads them to think that?’
‘The shoes she was wearing had inside them the address of a shop in Beaufort, South Carolina. Her dress carried the label of an expensive Paris couturier. Her blue cloak, that of Sax, Fifth Avenue. The little suitcase also came from New York. Such items may occasionally be imported, or find their way into Chile; but, for all four of them to be the property of a Chilean woman of the middle classes, is most unlikely. There is then the matter of your deciding to go on a short sea trip which, incidentally, would take you out of the country. In Mr Aron’s disposition, it is stated that this idea did not occur to you until after you arrived in Valparaiso. Is that correct?’
Simon nodded.
‘In that case why, earlier that morning, did you, Mr Eaton, go to the office of L.A.N., make enquiries for flights leaving that day for La Paz, Lima and places further north; and, only when you learned that there was none, take tickets for Valparaiso?’
As Richard did not answer, Cunliffe went on. ‘The police suggested to you that you took the woman to your hotel for immoral purposes. You denied that. But medical examination of the body disclosed that she had been raped by a man, or men, within a few hours of her death. Her vagina was terribly lacerated and semen found in it.’
‘We had nothing to do with that,’ Richard declared swiftly. ‘I swear to you that neither of us touched her.’
‘Then what were you doing for the best part of three hours in the room to which you took her?’
‘Three hours? What nonsense. After we had given her a drink up in our suite, Mr Aron took her down to her room. He rejoined me within ten minutes, then we both went to bed.’
‘That you gave her a drink in your suite is accepted. There were three used tumblers there. Then you took her down to her room and remained there with her. At about six o’clock, a cleaning woman saw you both coming out of it.’
‘She couldn’t have!’ Simon burst out. ‘She was in the main corridor and Nella’s…’ He had been going to add, ‘room was round the corner in a side passage’. Too late, he realised that he had given himself away.
The lawyer gave a grim little smile. ‘You see? I was right Both of you have been lying to me. And, Señor, I must warn you that your situation is now extremely grave. You are both about to be charged with murder.’
10
A Desperate Situation
The eyes of Richard and Simon met. Without words, those of each told the other how fully they realised the desperateness of their situation. It was Richard who spoke first. Turning to Fidel Cunliffe, he said:
‘It’s useless to deny that we have not told you the truth—at least, not the whole of it. The devil of it is that if we did I greatly doubt if you, or anyone else, would believe us. The police are right about Nella—that was the woman’s name—Nella Nathan’s having been an American. They are right, too, that it was because we knew of her death and feared that we would become involved in it, that we attempted to leave the country. The reason we have given for bringing her to the Hilton in the middle of the night is a complete fabrication. None the less, neither of us was in any way responsible for her murder. Upon that I give you my solemn word.’
Simon nodded. ‘That’s the truth. Ready to swear to that on the Torah.’
The lawyer looked from one to the other. His expression had softened, and no longer held a veiled dislike. After a moment he said in a more gentle voice, ‘Señors, I find your earnestness convincing. I will now admit that only my obligations to the British Embassy would have overcome my reluctance to defend men I believed guilty of such a heinous crime. But, if you are truly innocent, I will do my utmost for you. For your part, though, however improbable-sounding it may be, you must withhold nothing from me.’
During the next quarter of an hour, the two friends gave him a full account of all that had occurred on the night of the previous Tuesday, withholding only Rex’s name as that of the friend they had hoped to trace through the Satanists.
When they had done, Cunliffe said, ‘No one is ever going to believe that, by the use of spells, these Satanists had the power to conjure up an evil force capable of committing a physical act such as this murder. But that a clairvoyant could have overlooked the woman and located her at the Hilton would be regarded as plausible. Given that, one or more people could have been despatched to the hotel to kill her. There cannot have been many arrivals at the hotel in the middle hours of the night; so it should be possible to trace those who did, and an investigation into their backgrounds might provide us with valuable material for the defence.’
‘Ner,’ Simon murmured unhappily. ‘ ’Fraid we’ll get nowhere along those lines. Hotel people have been got at. Just a chance that cleaning woman did spot us as we were about to come round the corner into the main corridor. But I doubt it. Anyhow, she definitely could not have seen us come out of Nella’s room. It’s clear now that those clever swine had a double motive for killing Nella. First, to silence her. Second, to pin her murder on Eatoh and me, to get us out of the way. They must have either terrified or bribed the cleaning woman into saying she saw us; and I think you’ll find the night clerk very unhelpful. Besides, Nella’s killers may not have actually booked in at the hotel, but got in through one of the service entrances.’
‘I fear you are right, Mr Aron. However, there is the house at which the “barbecue” was held. If we can produce evidence that it was actually a Sabbat, we shall have gone a long way to shake the prosecution.’
It was now Richard who struck a pessimistic note. ‘It will surprise me if you succeed in that. Of course, the owner of the place, the American Negro lawyer Lincoln B. Glasshill, will not deny that he gave a party there last Tuesday night. We could produce the caterers who delivered the food, and there was so much noise that some of the nearest neighbours must have heard it. But that was four nights ago. They have had more than enough time to remove every trace that Satanic rites are practised out there.’
‘That still leaves us Philo McTavish.’
‘You may find him a little difficu
lt. After we had rescued Nella, he showed great reluctance to becoming involved further in the affair. And we deliberately refrained from letting him in on the fact that the “barbecue” was actually a witches’ Sabbat.’
‘As things have turned out, that was a pity,’ Cunliffe commented. ‘But, no matter. We shall, of course, subpoena him, and he will have no option other than to give an account of what occurred during the time he was acting as your driver. That, at least, will establish the fact that you did go out to Glasshill’s estate and brought back Nella Nathan from there, wearing the costume of a cat and in a state bordering on collapse. Besides, there are the bullet holes in the boot of his car. Your having been fired on will provide ample proof that those people were, even then, prepared to murder the woman and yourselves, who were protecting her. That will make it illogical for the prosecution to maintain that it was you who killed her an hour or so later. Provided we can shake the cleaning woman and other false witnesses they may produce, I feel there is a very good chance of my securing your acquittal.’
The prisoners were greatly cheered by this, and Richard asked, ‘When are we to be brought before a magistrate?’
‘As the police completed their investigation today, you would normally be charged tomorrow. But, as tomorrow is Sunday, you will not appear in court until Monday. That is just as well. It gives me an additional day in which to work. I will instruct the detective agency to find out all they can about Glasshill and his house, and I will see McTavish myself.’
When they had thanked him, Simon said, ‘Be grateful if you’d do me a favour. This case is certain to make an awful stink in the papers. To learn of it that way would be a terrible shock to a friend of mine’ She’s staying at the Hilton. I’d like to let her know in advance that Eaton and I are being charged with murder, and beg her not to worry too much. If I wrote a note, would you drop it in at the hotel for me?’
‘By all means. I pass the Hilton on my way home. I’ll get the warder to bring you a pen and paper.’
When these had been produced, Simon wrote a brief letter to Miranda. He told her only that he and Richard had fallen foul of a group of Satanists who were attempting to fix a murder on them; but that the British Embassy had sent them an excellent lawyer, whom they hoped would secure their release on Monday.
The following morning, shortly before midday, a warder again beckoned them out of the cell, and took them to the interviewing room. They naturally expected to find Cunliffe there, having come back either to ask more questions or to bring them some piece of special news. But their visitor was Miranda, accompanied by Miss Pinney.
As soon as Miranda realised that Simon was in the room, she cried, ‘I had to come! I simply had to come. I couldn’t bear not knowing everything about this terrible trouble you are in.’
Simon beamed at her, ‘But it’s lovely to see you. Sweet of you to think of coming here to cheer us up. ‘Fraid we’re in a muddle, a really nasty muddle. But I think our lawyer chap will get us out of it.’
‘Oh, I pray to God he does.’ Sitting down at the table, Miranda added quickly, ‘Now please tell me what has been happening to you. Right from the beginning, when you left the Hilton, after letting me know that you had learned something that might lead us to Uncle Rex.’
Between them Simon and Richard put her fully in the picture; then, with Pinney a silent listener, they discussed with her the pros and cons of their case. Miranda showed a very clear grasp of the situation, and suggested that the only certain way out for them was to produce an alibi, but there seemed no way in which they could do that. A warder then looked in to say that, in another two minutes, the visitors’ time would be up.
For a moment Miranda was silent; then she caught her breath and said quickly, ‘There’s something … something I must tell you. I had to play a trick to be allowed to come here. When I telephoned the authorities, at first they refused me permission to visit you. They were quite adamant about it, and I felt absolutely desperate. So … so I went to the British Embassy. A nice young man named Phillips fixed it for me.’
Simon looked puzzled. ‘Good idea. But I don’t see where playing a trick comes in by your having done that.’
‘No … no.’ Below Miranda’s mask, her cheeks had become pink with blushing. Suddenly she burst out, ‘But I lied to him. I told him I was your fiancée.’
At her confession, Simon’s mouth dropped open. Quickly grasping her hand, he gulped, ‘I only wish … oh, I wish you were.’
Taking off her blindfold mask, she peered up into his face. ‘Do you mean that, Simon? Do you really mean that?’
‘My dear, of course I do. I’ve loved you since that first day in Buenos Aires.’
‘But … but loving’s one thing, and marrying is another. I’m so useless. I’d be a terrible handicap to you as a wife.’
‘Nonsense!’ He cast a glance at the other two, gave a little giggle, and put his hand up to his mouth. ‘Extraordinary place to propose to a girl in, isn’t it? Before other people, too. Still…’
Easing off the antique gold ring he always wore on his left finger, he put it on the third finger of her left hand, laughed again and said, ‘Now you’re committed. You’re mine, and I’ll never let you go.’
She came to her feet and kissed him. At that moment the warder returned. Good-byes had to be said. Dazed with happiness, Simon accompanied Richard back to their cell.
On Monday morning, a most unpleasant surprise awaited them. They had only just finished breakfast when they were taken to the interviewing room. Cunliffe was standing there. As soon as the door was shut, he glowered at them and snapped, ‘I accepted the story you told me on Saturday night; but you lied to me again.’
‘We did nothing of the kind,’ Richard retorted hotly. ‘Every word we told you was the truth.’
‘Up to a point, perhaps,’ the lawyer said angrily. ‘But not the whole truth. You said that between approximately three a.m. and six a.m. on the day of the crime you were both in your own beds, asleep.’
‘That is perfectly true.’
Cunliffe swung round on Simon. ‘Of course, I understand your wish to protect the good name of your fiancée; but one can’t afford to make such chivalrous gestures when one is being tried for murder. Yesterday afternoon Miss Van Ryn got my address through the British Embassy, and came to see me with her companion. She made a statement. After you had got rid of the Nathan woman, you went up to Miss Van Ryn’s suite and went to bed with her.’
Simon’s eyes flickered wildly, while Richard asked, ‘And what was I supposed to be doing?’
‘You know well enough. You were down in your own suite, playing six-pack bezique with Miss Pinney. She, of course, is entirely dependent on Miss Van Ryn, so reluctantly had to submit to her wishes. Apparently this party was arranged before the two of you went out. It was not expected that it would be so late before you returned. But Miss Van Ryn refused to forgo the—er—pleasure that she expected to enjoy in Mr Aron’s company. It seems that Miss Pinney had proved squeamish about remaining in the suite while her young mistress was conducting herself in a manner of which she highly disapproved; so you had stepped into the breach and offered to keep her mind occupied with a game of cards down in your suite, while Mr Aron entertained his fiancée in hers.’
Richard and Simon exchanged a glance. They both realised that this alibi that Miranda had provided for them at the expense of her reputation would enormously strengthen their chances of obtaining a favourable verdict. Philo McTavish’s evidence would show that, far from wanting to murder Nella, they had protected her. That of Miranda would show that they had not even had the opportunity. To deny it would only confuse the issue, and seriously jeopardise the credibility of such other statements as they made.
Simon swallowed hard, and muttered, ‘All right. I’m sorry I didn’t come clean with you about my having been with Miss Van Ryn, but my reason sticks out a mile. Everything else we told you was the truth.’
The lawyer accepted their apology so
mewhat coldly, then he said, ‘It’s just as well that Miss Van Ryn has had the courage to come to your assistance in this way, because I’m far from happy about the evidence McTavish will give.’
‘I feared he might prove a bit sticky,’ Richard remarked.
Cunliffe scratched his red nose. ‘He is prepared to say only that he drove you out to Glasshill’s, where you remained for some time; that you then emerged from the trees with a woman, upon which he drove the three of you back to the Hilton. You see, although you told him that the “barbecue” was only an ordinary wild party, from what he heard going on there, the woman you rescued being clad like a cat, then learning about her murder and mutilation, he has tumbled to it that she was the victim of Satanists.’
‘Do you think that they have warned him not to talk?’
‘They may have. I think it more likely that he is concerned to keep his job. He feels that if, in any way, he allowed Don Caesar Albert’s name to be connected with this scandal, he would be out on his ear. He told me that, perjury or no perjury, he’ll deny taking you to Don Caesar’s house and that it was Don Caesar’s wife who supplied the Nathan woman with clothes. He stubbornly refuses to confirm that, when he first saw her, she was dressed as a cat. He will say that the clothes that were found with her are, to the best of his belief, those she was wearing when you bundled her into the car.’
‘We could prove that, on the way back, we went to Don Caesar’s house. The servant who opened the door to me could be called.’
‘He could, but would that get us anywhere, unless he actually saw the girl in her cat get-up, and his mistress’ clothes being brought out for her?’
‘No; unfortunately he saw neither. It is even more unfortunate that McTavish has dug in his toes. If he would give a full account of the cries and weird sounds he must have heard while the Sabbat was in progress, that would have helped a lot. Anyhow, he can’t deny that we were shot at and the boot of his car riddled with holes.’
Gateway to Hell Page 14