Ne'er Do Well

by Dornford Yates

  “‘I’ve never seen one here, sir. And once a year we have all the pictures down.’

  “‘All right,’ said Selden.

  “The butler withdrew.

  “‘We might try Bolton,’ I said.

  “‘Why not? Bolton.’

  “The valet re-entered the room.

  “‘D’you know of a wall-safe here?’

  “The valet hesitated. Then –

  “‘I don’t think his lordship would like – ’

  “Selden burst out.

  “‘Don’t be a fool. The Superintendent’s trying to get at the truth. He’s got to see everything. Don’t you want this bloody murderer put to death?’

  “The valet crumpled.

  “‘I’m sorry, sir. But I don’t think anyone knew it, except his lordship and me.’

  “‘Where is it, Bolton?’ I said.

  “‘In his lordship’s bedroom, sir.’

  “‘Come on,’ said Selden, rising.

  “The valet led us upstairs to a very pleasant chamber upon the first floor. Then he opened a built-in wardrobe – a hanging wardrobe, this. It was full of suits. He took out three of the hangers and pushed the rest to one side.

  “‘You’ll see it there in the wall, sir.’

  “Selden put in his head and looked to the left.

  “‘That’ll be it,’ he said. ‘All right, Bolton. You go and stand to the door.’

  “The valet withdrew.

  “I tried the key and the wall-safe opened at once.

  “There was very little inside. I took the contents out and put them in Selden’s hands. A fine, gold pocket-watch, attached to a cable chain. A magnificent diamond ring. A foolscap envelope, sealed. And that was all.

  “Selden crossed to the bed and laid them down.

  “‘That’s his father’s watch,’ he said. ‘I remember the chain. And that’s a ring of his mother’s – at least, I think it is. And that’s his handwriting.’

  “On the envelope was written, To be burned, unopened, in the event of my death.

  “‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘but I’ll have to open that. You never know, Major Selden.’

  “Selden thought for a moment. Then –

  “‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘But if it doesn’t help, you’ll burn it at once.’

  “‘Indeed, I will. And I think we might keep it to ourselves. I’ll give you a receipt, if you like.’

  “‘Not on your life. I haven’t seen the thing.’

  “‘But you do understand, Major Selden?’

  “Selden looked at me.

  “‘Look here, Superintendent. All my hope is in you. Somebody did Jo in – the finest gentleman in England, and my familiar friend. If you could show me the —, he’d never get as far as the gallows. He’d never come to be tried. You’d never get me off him, until he was dead.’

  “‘Now I know where I am,’ I said. ‘And now I’ll be very frank. I’m doing my level best. But it’s a hell of a case. And I must have everyone’s help. I know I can count on yours. But Bolton may know something which he feels he should keep to himself. You might have a word with him, and tell him that I shan’t talk.’

  “‘By God, I will. D’you want to see him now?’

  “‘After luncheon, please. First James and then him. And now have a look at this.’ I took out St Amant’s wrist-watch. ‘D’you know how he came by that?’

  “‘I’ve no idea. Had it as long as I’ve known him. New straps, of course.’

  “‘During the war?’

  “‘I rather think so. I can’t be sure of that.’

  “I put it back in my pocket.

  “‘Well, don’t forget I’ve got it, if anyone asks. I’ve his note-case and cheque-book, too. And, by the way, his suitcase is in my car. I don’t want to upset poor Bolton, so I’ll have it put in the hall. Oh, one thing more. This is his ring.’ Selden looked and nodded. ‘I think we might put it in the wall-safe.’

  “‘Good idea.’

  “I put the envelope into my pocket. The watch and chain and the rings, I put into the safe. Then I locked this up.

  “‘Bolton might put the clothes back.’

  “‘I’ll tell him to.’

  “I glanced at my watch.

  “‘What time d’you lunch, Major Selden?’

  “‘About one o’clock.’

  “‘Then I think I’ll go through his desk.’

  “‘You won’t want me for that.’

  “‘No. But I’d like the lawyer’s clerk. I’ll put aside any papers on which I want your advice.’

  “‘Right. Anything you want, call James.’

  “‘I may want to speak to the Yard.’

  “‘He’ll get you through.’

  “He showed me the way to the study and sent for the clerk.

  “The study was really a miniature library. Luxurious, leather armchairs on either side of the hearth. A leather sofa to match. A pedestal-table. Shoulder-high bookcases full of sporting books – an original edition of Surtees, Beckford’s Thoughts on Hunting and other famous works. A number of well-known novels stood in a case by themselves. On the walls above the cases, a number of sporting prints.

  “There was nothing in the papers that I could see. The locked drawer held personal letters, all to do with horses and racing, many from well-known men. One note was signed with a very well-known name. Dear Lord St Amant. It was more than kind of you to write as you did. I must confess that I, too, believed that my horse had won: but nobody can dispute what the camera says. (I sometimes wonder how many wrong decisions have been given in the years that are past.) And pray don’t think that I feel badly about the result. I might have, if the race had not gone to you: but, if I am to be beaten, I would sooner lose to you than to any man that I know. Yours very sincerely, —. Another was signed with another well-known name. My lord, I’m properly upset about this afternoon. I wouldn’t mind so much, if I hadn’t been riding for you. I don’t think it was my fault, but I can’t bear letting you down. Yours respectfully —. Pencilled on this was a note in St Amant’s hand. Dear — , You are not to reproach yourself. You rode a beautiful race: but the filly wasn’t quite good enough. Yours, St A.”

  Falcon paused there and looked round.

  “I particularly noted those letters, because I think they show how justly beloved and respected the dead man was.”

  “They seem to me,” said Mansel, “to emphasize two things. The first is that such a man’s enemies must have been very few: the second is that the man who murdered St Amant must have been bold indeed.”

  “Or round the bend,” said I.

  There was a moment’s silence. Then Falcon went on.

  “I locked up the drawer again, gave the bunch of keys to the clerk and bade him make out a receipt. While he was doing that–

  “‘That’s the key of a wall-safe,’ I said. ‘The valet will show the executors where it is.’

  “It was half past twelve by then, so I left the house for a stroll. Selden was just coming in, so he offered to show me round.

  “To one who knows nothing of horses, it’s still a showplace. Coach-houses all one side of the stable-yard by the house. The doors were all wide open, so I could see the cars. Two Rolls – the smaller model – one black and one grey; two station-wagons, three horse-boxes and two trucks; all of them polished and shining and looking as good as new.

  “I pointed to the Rolls.

  “‘His cars?’

  “‘Yes. I had the use of them – if I wanted to go to London or a meeting or something like that.’

  “‘Chauffeurs?’

  “‘Two regular ones. Do nothing else, I mean. And Bolton can drive. I never drive myself, but Jo very often did. Not always, you know.’

  “‘When were they used last?’

  “‘The Rolls? Not since he went away. He drove himself to the Home and Bolton brought the car back.’

  “Here a third station-wagon pulled into the yard.

  “‘First cha
uffeur,’ said Selden.

  “‘I thought it was Bolton,’ I said.

  “‘Twin-brother. We call him Fred.’

  “‘Keys of the cars?’

  “‘In his charge.’

  “We left the stable-yard and came to the stables proper, further on. There wasn’t time to see much. Loose-box after loose-box, name after name. Sick bay, farrier’s shop, home paddocks and the rest. Of course I was out of my depth, but really racehorses are the most lovely things. Then we went back to the house.

  “A simple, English luncheon, beautifully cooked and served.

  “After luncheon, I sent for Welcome and told him I’d take him to London the following day. Gave him the afternoon off, to do as he pleased. Then I thought things over and made some notes. Selden, I think, was dozing – a habit, perhaps, of his on a Sunday afternoon.

  “At three I saw the butler – an excellent type of servant, very precise.

  “‘A sad business this, James.’

  “‘Most shocking, sir. For us that lived with his lordship, it seems like some dreadful dream. I shall never forget when the Major broke the news. He was so much upset that he couldn’t speak the words. So he took a pencil and paper and wrote them down. Excuse me, sir.’ He took a case from his pocket, and drew out a sheet of notepaper, folded in four. ‘That’s what he gave me, sir.’

  “The writing was very shaky.

  “His lordship found dead this morning. They seem to suspect foul play. Anyway Scotland Yard has been called in. Better tell the others – they’ve got to know.

  “I handed it back.

  “‘I’m very sorry for him.’

  “‘He’s taking it very hard, sir. But so are we all.’

  “‘I’ve no doubt of that. I’m taking it hard myself. Who d’you think did it, James?’ The butler stared. ‘You’re thinking that that’s the question which you should be asking me. Well, I hope to be able to tell you before very long. But just now I want your guess.’

  “‘Well, sir, since you ask me, I’ll tell you I’m properly beat. I’ve been over the last eight years, for I came to Curfew Place in 1946. I’ve thought of all the people that’s come and gone. But I can’t think of one that might have wished him ill. High and low, sir, they liked and respected his lordship – as well they might.’

  “‘Were you ever told that if somebody came to the house, he was to be sent away?’

  “‘Never once, sir.’

  “‘Did his lordship ever say that if so-and-so rang up, you were to say he was out?’

  “‘Never, sir. He’d never speak, if he could help it. I’d bring him the message and take another one back.’

  “‘You got to know the technique.’

  “‘Precisely, sir. Some calls I knew he would wish to deal with himself.’

  “‘Very well. I’m afraid poor Bolton is very much upset.’

  “‘He’s beside himself, sir. He was so close to his lordship – went with him everywhere. He couldn’t bear his lordship being away at the Home. Out of his charge, you see. He wanted to stay in the village, but his lordship wouldn’t have that. And now he seems to feel that it would never have happened if he’d been there.’

  “‘Poor fellow,’ I said. ‘Well, James, I’m much obliged. Don’t think you haven’t helped me, because you have. Get hold of Bolton, will you? I’d like to see him now.’

  “‘Certainly, sir.’

  Two minutes later the valet entered the room.

  “I looked him full in the eyes.

  “‘Now, Bolton, you’ve got to help me. I’m doing my very best to help all of you. I can’t bring his lordship back, but I think we shall all feel better, if I can bring this crime home.’

  “‘That’s very true, sir.’

  “‘When his lordship went to the Home, you drove him there.’

  “‘No, sir. He drove the car there, and I brought it back.’

  “‘I see. Did you know the way?’

  “‘No, sir. Nor did his lordship. But it was easy to find.’

  “‘You made for Ne’er-do-well?’

  “‘Yes, sir. And there I asked.’

  “‘If you’d known where it was, you needn’t have gone through the village.’

  “‘That is so, sir. We had to come back to cross roads, two miles off.’

  “‘That’s the way you drove back?’

  “‘Yes, sir.’

  “‘Now this is very important. Did you take your brother with you when you drove there on Monday night?’

  “The man recoiled, and a hand went up to his mouth.

  “‘It’s quite all right,’ I said. ‘I only want to know if you went alone.’

  “The poor man’s eyes were starting.

  “‘It – it was Monday night, sir. Not Tuesday.’

  “‘I know it was Monday,’ I said. ‘Did you go alone?’

  “‘I went alone, sir,’ said Bolton. ‘My brother gave me the keys.’

  “‘You took the grey Rolls.’

  “‘Yes, sir.’

  “‘And parked her a little way off.’

  “‘Yes, sir.’

  “‘And then walked back.’

  “‘Yes, sir.’

  “‘Did you enter the grounds?’

  “‘No, sir. It was easy enough to get in, but I thought there might be a watchman, and so I stayed outside.’

  “‘Did you know where his lordship was lodged?’

  “‘Not for certain, sir. But we saw the terrace, as we come up to the Home. And his lordship said, I’d like a room on that terrace. I hope they give me one. And somehow I thought they would.’

  “‘What time did you get there, Bolton?’

  “‘To the Home itself, sir?’

  “‘Yes.’

  “‘It must have been just about eleven o’clock.’

  “‘Did you see any lights? In the rooms on the terrace, I mean.’

  “‘One room was lighted, sir. But only just. A table lamp, I should say.’

  “‘Could you say which room it was?’

  “‘I’d say it was near the middle. I can’t be sure.’

  “‘You wondered if it was his?’

  “‘Yes, sir.’

  “‘Did you see the light of a torch?’

  “‘I can’t say I did, sir. But this was Monday night, sir.’

  “‘I know. Did you see the light go out – the light in the room, I mean?’

  “‘Yes, sir. It must have been half past eleven. So then I went back to the car.’

  “‘You’re sure you saw nothing else?’

  “‘I saw a flicker, sir, just as I was turning to go. But it wasn’t a torch. I don’t know what it was.’

  “‘What d’you mean by a flicker?’

  “‘A very faint light indeed. It seemed to be higher somehow.’

  “‘Did it come and go?’

  “‘It stayed for a moment or two: and then it went out.’

  “‘You’d put that at half past eleven?’

  “‘Thereabouts, sir. When I got back to the car, the clock said twenty to twelve.’

  “‘Did you go to the Home more than once?’

  “‘Twice, sir. The first time on Friday.’

  “‘Why did you go, Bolton?’

  “The poor man’s look made me think of a beaten dog.

  “‘I know I shouldn’t have done it: but I couldn’t bear, sir, him lying sick without me.’

  “‘I quite understand, Bolton. It made things better if you could be close to him.’

  “‘That’s right, sir. I wanted to stay in the village, but his lordship said no.’ Then he burst out. ‘If only I’d gone on Tuesday…’

  “‘It wouldn’t have made any difference. Take that from me. And now let’s look back. You always accompanied his lordship, if ever he stayed away.’

  “‘Always, sir, if he went away for the night.’

  “‘Recall anyone who wasn’t friendly to him?’

  “‘Not a single soul, sir, in all these years.�
�

  “‘Did you answer the telephone?’

  “‘Very often, sir. Always at The Savoy.’

  “‘Did he ever say, Tell them I’m out?’

  “‘I never remember that, sir. He’d say, Say I’m engaged and ask them to leave a message. He was very patient, sir. Especially with the Press. And the things he used to do, sir, that nobody knew. Time and again, I’ve followed him down The Embankment late at night. Talking to down-and-outs and giving them the price of a meal. I’ve seen him sit down beside them and lay his hand on their arm. Of course he never knew I was there. They’ll miss him, they will: but no one will miss him like me.’

  “It was really very moving to see such genuine love…

  “Later on, I walked to the stables alone. Two or three lads in a doorway were handling hay. As I went by –

  “‘The stable’s on you, sir,’ said one.

  “‘That’s right,’ said another. ‘God knows you can’t bring him back, but show us the — that did it. That’s all we ask.’

  “‘You can’t want it more than I do. Once let me get on his heels and I’ll never let go.’

  “‘That’s the stuff, sir.’

  “‘No guilty, but insane, sir.’

  “‘Not if I can help it,’ I said.

  “And as I passed on –

  “‘Good luck, sir…good luck…good luck.’

  “Then an old fellow came up and took off his shabby cap.

  “‘I taught his lordship to ride, sir. It don’t seem so long ago. An’ now – I can’t ’ardly believe it. Always so gay and gallant and full of life. My son’s first farrier here. When he reads they’ve sent for you, It’s all right, Dad, he says, Superintendent Falcon’ll get the – down. An’ you will, won’t you, sir?’

  “‘I give you my word,’ I said, ‘I’ll do my best.’

  “He shook my hand, with the tears running down his face…

  “After dinner we sat in the study, and Selden talked quite a lot. All about St Amant, of course. Just what I wanted, you know. I got a very clear portrait.”

  “Outlook,” said Mansel, smiling.

  “That’s right. The victim’s outlook is often just as important as that of anyone else.”

  “I’m sure poor Selden was only too thankful to talk.”

  “I think he was. He seemed distressed when I said I must go the next morning. But to stay on there would have been a waste of time. And even if I had had to come back, I should have gone away. Day of the funeral, you see. When I said goodbye the next morning Selden thanked me for coming and asked me to come again. ‘When it’s all over, you know. No shop. But you’re easy to talk to. Done me a lot of good. I’ll give you a hack and we’ll have a look at the gallops.’