The English School of Murder

by Ruth Dudley Edwards

  Amiss took a considering sip and lit a cigarette. ‘Don’t any of these people ever get, well, heavy?’

  ‘Not really. Well, occasionally. But I’ve never had any real trouble. Always call their bluff. Finally told that nuisance of a Swede yesterday to get lost or I’d call the police. I would too. Since Ned died I’m not easily frightened.’

  ‘Has Ned’s death changed anything professionally, Rich?’

  Rich shook his head. ‘Not really. I expect I’ll go on as before.’

  ‘On your own? Or will you get a new partner?’

  ‘Have you ambitions in that direction?’

  Amiss laughed. ‘No. I enjoy the job but I don’t see myself making a career of it. But I thought maybe one of the others?’

  ‘I wouldn’t want to be in partnership with anyone who wasn’t simpatico. Frankly, and I probably shouldn’t tell you this, Cath wants half the business and I don’t want to sell to her. I’ve always put her off in the past by pleading Ned. I don’t know quite what to say now.’

  ‘You don’t find her simpatico?’

  ‘Too cold. And greedy. That’s why I was wondering about you.’

  ‘You’d better just stall for the moment. She must realise that you shouldn’t be making decisions while you’re still in a state of shock over Ned.’

  ‘I don’t think Cath understands that kind of thing.’ The phone began to ring. ‘That may be her. She’s been at me to have a meeting this afternoon.’

  ‘Don’t say no on my account. I’m leaving in a couple of minutes. Got to see a friend at four.’

  Rich picked up the mobile phone beside his chair. ‘Hello, Rich Rogers…Hello, Cath…Not really. I’ve work to do at the school this afternoon…Oh, you will?’ He raised his eyes to heaven. ‘Oh, well, I suppose in that case, yes…say about five. But only a few minutes, please. I really am very busy…Right, bye.’ He jabbed at the off-switch. ‘See what I mean.’

  ‘She’s certainly persistent.’

  ‘And the more persistent she is, the less likely I am to want her as a partner.’

  ***

  ‘Ten to one the drug baron’s our Sven,’ said Amiss to Milton from a call-box at Knightsbridge tube station. ‘Two hypotheses. First is that Rich murdered Ned in order to inherit his cat. Second is that Cath murdered Ned so as to leave a vacancy for a partner.’

  ‘But she couldn’t have put the alcohol in his drink.’

  ‘Maybe she hired Ahmed to do it. Or Sven did.’

  ‘It’s an extraordinarily roundabout route. Why not invest in a different business?’

  ‘Christ, I don’t know. You know as much as I do. Maybe he’s stubborn. Oh, yes. Wally. Rich was a little vague about picnics, but I gather he usually has them at about two-monthly intervals, so that would fit. I suppose it’s just possible Wally stumbled on a picnic. Quite certainly he wouldn’t have been invited.’

  ‘I’ll brood on that. What are you doing now?’

  ‘Meeting Ellis to play squash. He’ll win of course—not being full of rich food and half-drunk.’

  ‘And then?’

  ‘Dropping by the school at Rich’s request to interrupt him and Cath. Then I’m going on to Ellis’s for an early supper. Or in my case a glass of water. He needs company at the moment.’

  ‘I know. Good luck with the hand-holding. I’ll call you there later and we’ll talk about how to approach Cath.’

  ‘Good luck with the cogitating.’

  ‘I don’t intend to do much of that. I’m off duty. Bye.’

  Indeed Milton was fast asleep over the newspapers when the telephone rang with news of more death.

  Chapter 34

  ‘What’s the urgency, Cath?’

  ‘I want my future settled. I’ve been hanging on for ages, hoping to be able to get a stake in the business. I enjoy this job, but I don’t want to go on as an employee. I’m ambitious. What’s wrong with that?’

  ‘I’ve promised you that if I decide to sell a piece of the partnership, I’ll give the teachers a chance of buying in.’

  ‘But Gavs doesn’t want to and there isn’t anyone else.’

  ‘There’s Bob.’

  Cath’s control held, but barely. ‘You can’t seriously mean that. He hasn’t been in the school five minutes. I think you’re treating me in a very cavalier fashion, Rich, if you’ll forgive me saying so.’

  ‘I feel the boot is on the other foot, my dear. You don’t seem to understand that I’m still shocked and grieved at Ned’s death. I don’t want to make any decisions at present. I’ll let you know when or if I do.’

  ‘But you always used to say that the only reason for not opening up the partnership was that it would be unfair to Ned.’

  ‘You took me very literally, Cath. Did it never occur to you that I might be using dear old Ned as an excuse?’

  ‘No, it didn’t.’ She gave a bitter laugh.

  There was a long silence. Then Rich summoned up his courage.

  ‘Look, Cath. I promise you I’ll think about it seriously as soon as I’m feeling better. Now please excuse me? I’ve got some more paper-work to do, and then I’m going home to look after my sick cat.’

  ‘I thought it was dead,’ said Cath absently.

  ‘No, she’s recovered.’

  ‘Oh, good. All right, Rich. If you don’t mind, I’ll make a phone call or two from the lounge before I go.’

  ‘Of course. See you tomorrow.’

  ‘Yeah. Bye.’

  ***

  ‘It’s no good. You’ll have to think of another angle. Or find another business.’

  Dispiritedly, as the angry voice accused her of not having tried hard enough, Cath turned in her chair and fixed her eyes on the Monet reproduction beside the door. She was thus perfectly placed to see squarely the grotesque figure that burst into the lounge and crashed something heavy on to her skull. She had time for only a gasp of terror before the second blow cast her into merciful unconsciousness. It was the sixth blow that killed her.

  ***

  It was five forty-seven when Amiss found the two bodies. Retching from the sight of Cath’s shattered head, he lurched to Rich’s side and realised with a sob of gratitude that he was breathing and appeared uninjured.

  He ran to the office telephone and managed to speak to Milton before staggering into the washroom to vomit. As he emerged five minutes later, uniformed police were pouring through the front door and Rich was beginning to move. By the time Milton arrived, Rich had been moved to the nearest classroom, where Amiss was ministering to him with tea and sympathy. Milton called him out into the hallway where he was issuing general instructions.

  ‘You get on with the forensic boys, Sammy,’ said Milton to Inspector Pike. ‘Get someone talking to the neighbours and get one of your lot to keep trying Ellis Pooley at home. Tell him to come immediately. Robert, I’m going to tell Rogers I’ve sent you home, but I want you to stay in the office. Sammy, make sure no one tells Rogers Robert’s still on the premises.’

  ‘Understood, sir,’ said Pike, a long-time fan of Milton, encourager of Pooley and friendly acquaintance of Amiss. Amiss, recognising from Milton’s tone that there was no point in arguing, retired despondently to his appointed quarters.

  ***

  ‘All I know,’ said Rich to Milton, ‘is that we finished talking about five fifteen. She said she had a few phone calls to make in the lounge. About a quarter of an hour later I packed up ready to go home, looking into the lounge to see if she was still there, and there she was with her head staved in and all that blood splashed round. I was terrified, I can tell you. I don’t know if it was horror or fear that made me faint. Next thing I knew, your chaps were all around.’

  ‘Are you suggesting that Miss Taylor let the murderer in?’

  ‘She didn’t need to. The front door wasn’t locked. Anyone could have turned the handle and walked in.’

  ‘But you heard nothing?’

  ‘Nothing. The office door was closed and it’s a longish way from t
he lounge.’

  Milton went over and over the ground with him without getting very far. Rich maintained that they had been having a friendly discussion, albeit with a slight difference of opinion, about whether he would offer her a partnership. ‘But if anyone had a grievance it was her, not me, Superintendent. I wasn’t prepared to give her what she wanted, at least not now.’

  When Pooley arrived, Milton was talking to Amiss in the office, darting in and out when called on by Pike. ‘The problem is simple,’ he explained. ‘Rogers says it must have been done by someone walking in from the street. Evidence in favour of that is that there is no blood on him and we can’t find a likely weapon. Evidence against is that the next-door couple were working in their garden, saw Rich and Cath come in and swear no one else did. I discount the faint—easily put on for Robert’s benefit.’

  ‘And could no one have got in or out the back way?’ asked Pooley.

  ‘Both the back door and the back gate are heavily bolted.’

  ‘You’d think if Rich had done it he’d have faked a back exit for the mythical assailant,’ said Amiss hopefully.

  ‘He couldn’t. There was a party going on in the back garden of the house on the other side and the door is visible from their terrace because of the slope in the gardens.’

  ‘It’s very hard to imagine we’ve got another mystery murderer coming in out of nowhere,’ said Amiss reluctantly.

  ‘Sven?’ asked Pooley.

  ‘Because he was cross with her for not becoming a partner? Forget it.’

  ‘Could Rogers conceivably have done it without getting his clothes spattered with blood?’ asked Pooley.

  ‘Almost certainly not.’

  Pike looked in and called Milton outside for a consultation with the fingerprint teams. Amiss and Pooley sat thinking until he returned.

  ‘A waterproof cape?’ asked Amiss.

  ‘Where is it?’

  Amiss shrugged.

  ‘He could have done it naked,’ said Pooley.

  ‘I thought of that one, Ellis. And it’s just possible. If he murdered her within, say, fifteen minutes of her arrival, he’d have had time to strip, kill her, mop himself down, and even dry his hair with the hair dryer.’

  ‘And do what with the blunt instrument?’

  ‘That’s our real problem. We’ve searched the house and garden and anywhere within throwing distance of the windows three times to date, and can’t find anything remotely suitable.’

  ‘Hidden safes?’

  ‘Rich says there’s only one and we’ve looked in that: it contains petty cash and a tiny amount of cocaine and marijuana.’

  ‘Gavs might know if there’s another.’

  ‘We’ve already tried him and he doesn’t.’

  ‘What do you want me to do, sir?’

  ‘You two stay in this office and think. I’ve got plenty of people outside dealing with the practicalities. Keep going through Rogers’s statement and praying for inspiration.’

  Pooley’s inspiration came first. As Milton came in to report that a fourth search had yielded nothing, he suddenly said: ‘Has anyone tried the Last Number Replay button?’

  ‘What? Oh, you mean on the phone she was using? Christ, I don’t know. Let’s try, even though she was probably phoning for a taxi.’

  ‘You two go,’ said Amiss. ‘You’re the pros. If you don’t mind, I’ll stay here and skip the sights.’

  Milton strode into the lounge. ‘Sammy, has anyone used this phone since we arrived?’

  ‘No, sir. The fingerprint boys have only just finished with it.’

  Milton picked up the receiver and pressed the LR button. There was a long succession of clicks and then an unfamiliar tone. ‘It’s long distance,’ he said. It rang twice and then a voice said: ‘Hello. Sven Bjorgsson.’ It was all that Pooley could do not to let out a cheer.

  Opting for discretion, Milton put the phone down without a word. ‘It’s a tricky one this,’ he said, when they had gone back to the office. ‘The only sensible hypothesis I can offer is that Rogers attacked her because of something he overheard her saying to Bjorgsson. We need to know from Bjorgsson the substance of their conversation and if it came to an abrupt halt, but I don’t want that done on the telephone. I’ll have to have someone sent over to see him. Damn. I know it’s Rogers. Nothing else makes sense. But where in hell is the weapon?’

  Amiss was sitting dejectedly on the floor in the corner of the office, thinking mournfully about his first day at the school. Only three weeks ago and it felt like years. He remembered sitting waiting for Rich as Ned jabbered disarmingly of their travels together. ‘Oh, God,’ he said to himself under his breath. Milton was on the phone so he spoke softly to Pooley. ‘Ellis. Any more details on what she was hit with?’

  ‘Only what I told you earlier—something very knobbly—bit like a blackthorn club only more so.’

  Amiss looked in the right-hand drawer of what had been Ned Nurse’s desk, nodded, and sat on the corner of the desk and removed his right shoe and sock. Milton and Pooley watched on with fascination as he began to fill his sock with handfuls of coins. He whirled it round experimentally and then handed it over to Milton. ‘Try this for size,’ he said.

  Chapter 35

  ‘Mr Rogers, I’m charging you with the murder of Miss Catherine Taylor and I must warn you that anything you say may be taken down and used in evidence against you.’

  ‘This is ridiculous. How could I have killed Cath?’

  ‘We’ve found what could well have served as a weapon, sir.’ Milton took Amiss’s coin-filled sock from a carrier bag and showed its contents to Rich. ‘Could you take your shoes off, sir?’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I think you do. I think you converted coins into a weapon, probably by putting them in a sock. If not a sock, then something similar. Could I have a look at your socks, please.’

  ‘Certainly, Superintendent. Just one small matter, first. Isn’t one supposed to have a motive for murder? Or did I do this for fun?’

  Milton closed his eyes for a moment to recall accurately the strategy that Amiss had impressed upon him. ‘I think you did it because she was blackmailing you.’

  ‘This is preposterous, Superintendent. I haven’t done anything to be blackmailed about. Unless you mean those piddling amounts of drugs. I’d hardly risk life imprisonment to save a small fine.’

  ‘No, sir. Not the drugs.’ Milton looked Rich straight in the eyes. ‘I believe she was blackmailing you because she knew you’d hired Ahmed to kill your partner. He failed to batter him to death: then you set him up to spike Mr Nurse’s drink.’

  ‘Don’t even say anything like that. It’s a blasphemy. I wouldn’t have hurt a hair on Ned’s head. I loved him.’

  ‘Yes, sir. So you say. But we deal in facts. You stood to gain a great deal of money from his death and therefore all along you’ve been the obvious suspect.’

  Rich fell into a chair and began to cry. ‘I can’t bear this,’ he sobbed.

  ‘We have evidence of the truth of what I’m saying.’

  ‘You can’t have.’

  ‘Miss Taylor’s lover, Mr Sven Bjorgsson, is prepared to testify to this.’

  ‘He couldn’t.’ Rich stopped crying and thought for a few moments. ‘I’m wrong, aren’t I? He could, of course he could. And everyone will believe him. I’d rather be dead than have people believe I had Ned killed.’

  ‘Well in that case I’d advise you to get your story in fast, Mr Rogers.’

  Rich leaned back in the chair and looked from Milton to Pooley. ‘All right, Superintendent. You win. One of my socks is damp and though I washed it thoroughly, I’m sure it’ll show up something it shouldn’t. And of course some of the fibres will be found in Cath’s wounds. I had taken the precaution of putting plastic film over the sock, but it split. Give in gracefully has always been one of my mottoes. Or to put it another way, “It’s a fair cop, copper,”’ he guffawed weakly.

  ‘And your reason
for doing it, Mr Rogers?’

  ‘I’d better tell you about it in sequence. While we were talking she gave the game away by saying she thought Plutarch—my cat—was dead, when no one but me, the vet and the would-be strangler had known anything about the attack. I knew then that there was something awful going on. I crept along the hall and listened to her. The lounge door opens without a sound. I realised that the Sven she was talking to was the one you’d been asking about last week. He’d been pestering me to come in with him on a business proposition. Drug smuggling in other words. I said no.

  ‘It all fell into place suddenly. It was around that time that Cath started to try to get a slice of the partnership. Obviously she was intended to be the Trojan horse if I refused to open the gates to Sven. Then she said, “So you wasted your money on Ahmed. It’s no help at all Ned Nurse is dead.” He said something and then she said, “I never thought he’d crack as easily as you did, though it was worth trying it with the bloody cat. Would you believe it survived? Wasn’t Ahmed unbelievable? Glad you had him bumped off.”

  ‘I’ve never felt hatred before. Sharpens your wits, I find. I had everything worked out in a couple of minutes and she was dead within five. Funny, really. I don’t know whether she rang Sven from the school because of impatience or tightfistedness, but that’s why she died. I’d never have killed her in cold blood.’

  ‘Thank you for your frankness, Mr Rogers. Are you ready to come with us now?’

  ‘There are just one or two things I’d like to get from my office.’

  ‘The sergeant will get them for you, sir. What would you like?’

  ‘If you don’t mind, Superintendent, I’d like to do it myself. I probably won’t see the office again.’

  ‘Very good, sir,’ said Milton. ‘Just hold on a moment while I make a couple of notes and I’ll take you there. Sergeant Pooley, perhaps you’d go ahead and tell Inspector Pike what’s happening.’

  Pooley tore downstairs to the office where Amiss was sitting staring at a blank wall. ‘He’s coming in here in a minute, Robert. If you don’t want to be seen you’ll have to get out now.’