Murder Adrift

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by George Bellairs


  ‘Quite sure. They’ve admitted it.’

  ‘This is awkward. . . .’

  It was obvious that Kenneth Todd was mainly concerned with the inconvenience this was going to cause at the works. Then, recovering, he thought he had better decently qualify his exclamation.

  ‘I mean . . . It’s my brother’s funeral tomorrow. . . .’

  Old Mrs. Todd remained unmoved. Her face was set and her hands gripped the arms of her chair.

  ‘Go on,’ she said.

  ‘Owing to his death, your family have been spared the arrest of Mr. Hector, who, it was disclosed, was the head of the immigration enterprise. He had planned all the arrangements and his death caused Lever and Dawson to make desperate but unsuccessful efforts to see them through. You told me of the illegal immigration matter when I interviewed you recently, Mrs. Todd.’

  Lucy Todd did not reply.

  ‘Is that all you’ve called for?’ asked the old lady, and she began to move her chair in the direction of the door.

  ‘I’ve not yet finished, Mrs. Todd. I would like to ask you a few questions before we go.’

  She turned to face him again.

  ‘This is a most inappropriate time for such matters. . . .’

  ‘These are urgent, madam. You own, I understand, a considerable amount of very valuable jewellery?’

  ‘What of it? That has no bearing on the affair you are pursuing, has it? It is a private matter.’

  ‘Nevertheless, will you please answer my question?’

  Kenneth Todd was losing patience or else his nerve.

  ‘Answer him, mother, for God’s sake and let us be rid of them. It’s getting late.’

  ‘Very well. Yes. Is that all you wish to know?’

  ‘Not quite. Is it insured?’

  ‘Of course. That is a stupid question.’

  ‘With whom?’

  As his mother showed signs of further obstruction, Todd hastily answered the question himself.

  ‘The South Eastern Assurance.’

  ‘Where is the jewellery kept?’

  ‘At the bank in Portwich. Although our accounts are kept at the local branch, the bank have a better strongroom in their Portwich office, and in view of the high value of the jewellery, it is kept there.’

  Kenneth Todd was now answering the questions.

  ‘Is it always kept there?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  Todd hesitated and Littlejohn, glancing at Lucy Todd’s frightened face, knew that he had touched a vital spot.

  ‘Tell him! Tell him! And let us end this inquisition!’ said the old lady, impatiently.

  ‘We have had it from the bank recently. The value of the jewellery has risen so much that we have increased the insurance. An assessor called the other day to revalue it. We brought it here from the bank and kept it here overnight. It is now back in the bank at Portwich.’

  ‘It was here one night and then returned. Where did you keep it while you had it here?’

  ‘In the private safe, of course.’

  ‘When was that?’

  Another embarrassed pause. Kenneth Todd consulted his pocket diary with fumbling fingers. It was obvious that he knew the answer without all that fuss, but he seemed to be seeking a way out.

  ‘Was it the 12th?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The night you were in London and your brother was murdered?’

  Old Mrs. Todd was now seeking a way out, too.

  ‘Will you please see me to the lift, Kenneth? I am at the end of my resources and these stupid questions are interminable.’

  Kenneth eagerly crossed the room to join her.

  ‘I am sorry, but I must ask you to stay, madam. This concerns you very closely. I will not take up much more of your time. Where is the key to your private safe kept?’

  ‘On the key-ring in my handbag which never leaves my possession.’

  ‘I don’t see your handbag here. . . .’

  ‘I left it on the table in the other room in the haste your unwelcome arrival provoked. Go and get it, Kenneth.’

  Todd hurried out and returned with the bag which he handed to his mother. She opened it and flung a bunch of keys to Littlejohn.

  ‘Satisfied?’

  ‘There are duplicate keys, I suppose?’

  ‘My son Kenneth has one and the other is deposited in the bank for safety.’

  ‘And yet Mrs. Hector Todd told me when I was last here, that she came upon Mr. Hector recently with the safe open one night searching for ready money. Where did the key he used come from?’

  Old Mrs. Todd lost her temper.

  ‘When is all this inquisition going to end? The safe has been in the family for more years than I can tell. Keys may have been lost and new ones made . . . I don’t know. The safe is a good one and it stands to reason that only the family could have the keys. We have always known whatever we put there was perfectly secure. . . .’

  ‘Mr. Hector had a key. That is obvious. Where it came from you don’t know?’

  Todd began to bluster now.

  ‘This is intolerable. Unless you allow my mother to leave us at once I shall telephone to Portwich and ask the Chief Constable to intervene.’

  ‘That, sir, will only result in an arrest. You know more than I do about your brother’s murder and I don’t intend leaving until you’ve told me’.

  ‘This is absurd. How can I have killed him when I was in London at the time he was shot on his boat? As for my mother, she is almost immobile. To connect her with the murder would be more ridiculous still.’

  ‘Mr. Hector was not killed on his boat.’

  From long experience, Littlejohn knew a crisis had been reached. The atmosphere seemed to tighten. The old lady’s lips twitched and she tried to control them by biting them. Kenneth Todd’s eyes protruded and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. Lucy turned deadly pale and looked ready to faint. Todd spoke first.

  ‘But that is ridiculous! You know he was found adrift at sea in his boat.’

  ‘It does not follow that he was murdered at sea. He was killed on land, here at Fordinghurst, his body placed in his boat, and the boat turned adrift on the tide. The dinghy was released at the same time and the whole thing made to appear as though two men set out, one murdered the other, and then left the body in the boat and went off in the dinghy.’

  ‘Nonsense, it seems to me. You have made a complicated issue of a very simple event. Why have you done that?’

  Old Mrs. Todd asked the question petulantly as though the whole matter had been settled long ago.

  ‘The general idea in the town is that Mr. Hector was killed at sea. That is pure surmise and based on guesswork. We are nearer to the affair and know more about it, and our view is the one I’ve already stated. By the way, Mrs. Todd, have you a ring with a large diamond in it, a solitaire?’

  ‘Why are you changing the subject so suddenly? Your question seems quite irrelevant.’

  ‘I assure you it is important and connected with the crime. Please answer it.’

  ‘Yes, I do have such a ring. Why?’

  ‘Where is it now?’

  ‘In the jewel-case I keep here at home.’

  ‘It is not with the rest of your jewellery in the bank?’

  ‘No. It was the first very valuable piece of jewellery my late husband bought for me. I have a sentimental attachment to it and I like to have it here where I can wear it sometimes.’

  ‘May I see the ring, please?’

  ‘Really, Chief Superintendent! Can’t all this palaver wait until tomorrow? My mother is tired and it is getting late. Surely . . .’

  Littlejohn ignored the protest.

  ‘Do you usually keep your jewel-case in the safe you mentioned?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I suggest the ring is not there. I suggest that you, Mrs. Todd, don’t know where it is. It was stolen some time ago. If I’m wrong, please show me the ring.’

  There was no an
swer. Only a long pause.

  ‘Do you know who took it, Mrs. Todd?’

  The old lady made no reply. Kenneth Todd was ready to protest when Lucy suddenly gave tongue. She was still standing, pale, rocking to and fro as though ready to drop on the floor.

  ‘Leave her alone, can’t you? As if she hadn’t enough trouble! I know who took it. It was Hector. I told you when last you were here that I found him at the safe one night. I said he was taking some money. Actually, he was looking in his mother’s jewel-case, and took out a ring and left the rest.’

  ‘Did you tell Mrs. Todd?’

  Old Mrs. Todd replied herself. In a tired shaking voice.

  ‘She did not tell me. I suppose she didn’t wish to cause me distress. I found out myself. I knew who had taken it. There was only one among us who would do such a thing.’

  ‘Your son sold it to a dealer in Amsterdam, Mrs. Todd.’

  ‘I know. Kroon is an old friend. My husband bought most of my valuable jewellery through him. Kroon rang me up to confirm that I wished to sell the ring. What could I do? I told him “Yes”. You see, Kroon knew that whatever happened in the business I’d have the jewellery to fall back on, instead of being cast in the street. My husband told Kroon that, and Kroon bore it in mind when he chose and sold the stones to us. He did not ask why I was selling the ring. He probably thought I was short of money.’

  Kenneth Todd was furious and couldn’t find words in which to express himself. He stamped about on the rug making inarticulate noises. His mother finally pulled him up.

  ‘Don’t say a word about Hector, Kenneth. Remember he is dead and tomorrow he will leave us for ever. Lucy! For heaven’s sake sit down, instead of mooning there.’

  The old lady seemed to have recovered some of her old vigour and was taking control of the situation again.

  ‘Well, gentlemen, is there anything else you wish to ask us before I retire?’

  ‘Do you happen to possess a revolver, Mrs. Todd?’

  Mrs. Todd, instead of looking at Littlejohn, gave a quick glance at Kenneth before she answered the question. Then she turned to Littlejohn.

  ‘No. Why do you ask?’

  Another pause, as though they were all waiting for something. The fire in the hearth had died down to cinders and nobody made a move to revive it. Outside, the wind was rising and they could hear in the distance, the muffled bleating of the foghorn at Slee. Todd was still standing on the rug, his body taut, and Lucy looked ready to collapse. Only the old lady seemed relaxed, Littlejohn thought almost resigned.

  ‘Have you ever owned a revolver? Please think carefully before you answer. If you have possessed one and disposed of it, say so. Our frogmen will be searching the river and port tomorrow for the weapon which killed your son. . . .’

  Hopkinson looked up apprehensively from the notes he was furiously making in his book. It was a shot in the dark.

  ‘If that gun is found, we will not rest until we find out the owner.’

  Todd didn’t give his mother a chance to answer. He turned angrily on Littlejohn.

  ‘What are you trying to do? Are you insinuating that my mother killed her own son? Why can’t you look among the disreputable gang with whom my brother associated? What grounds have you for these questions?’

  ‘I’ll try to explain. But first, will you tell me the truth about the telephone message you received from this house when you were in London on the night of the crime? Around the time of your brother’s death you received the call and at once you sneaked away from the hotel and returned home? Why didn’t you tell the night porter why you were leaving? It would have been the normal thing to do in an ordinary emergency. Instead, you just vanished without anyone seeing or hearing from you.’

  ‘You asked me that before. I told you that my mother had been taken ill and needed me.’

  ‘The call came immediately after your brother’s death. He was shot in this house. You were called back here and the body was then carried to his boat and the boat set adrift. How did he meet his death?’

  ‘Is that why you’ve called here and browbeaten two women and myself in an effort to solve the crime? We are his family. How could we do such a thing? You must be mad. . . . ’

  Todd’s outburst was suddenly cut short. Lucy tried to rise to her feet, failed, and then collapsed in a faint on the floor.

  Todd swiftly crossed to where she was lying and angrily pushed Littlejohn aside. He knelt by the side of the limp woman and then, for the first time, Littlejohn saw that there was tenderness and affection in the make-up of this queer man. He picked her up in his arms and carried her to a couch by the fire. Hopkinson made a move to assist him.

  ‘Keep away, you. Don’t touch her. The pair of you will answer for this. . . . ’

  Still muttering he opened a cupboard, took out brandy and a glass, and gave her a drink. Then he alternated between flinging abuse at Littlejohn and muttering endearments to Lucy. Finally, she came to and sat up on the couch.

  ‘Don’t try to get up. When you feel ready, I’ll go and wake Dorothy and she can take you to bed.’

  ‘I’m all right now, Ken. I’m sorry to cause all this commotion. I’d better tell the police what happened that night. It isn’t right that this should go on and on, upsetting everyone and lying to the police. . . .’

  Littlejohn interrupted her.

  ‘If you are going to make a statement, I have to warn you that anything you say will be taken down in writing and may be used in evidence. . . . ’

  ‘She’s not going to say anything, Chief Superintendent, without our lawyer being present. You, Kenneth, take her upstairs to her room, waken Dorothy on the way and stay with Lucy until Dorothy can take over.’

  Old Mrs. Todd said it in her most domineering manner and, as Todd hesitated, she told him to do as he was bid. He led Lucy gently away.

  ‘And now,’ said Mrs. Todd, ‘you and I, Mr. Littlejohn, have matters to settle between us. . . .’

  She turned to Hopkinson.

  ‘You, young man! Take your little book into the other room and leave us together. You don’t need to take down what I have to say to your boss. I’ll see that you get a signed transcription of it. Be off with you.’

  Hopkinson gave Littlejohn a bewildered look.

  ‘All right, Hopkinson, do as madam asks.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Mrs. Todd as he left them and closed the door after himself.

  ‘Now, Mr. Littlejohn. I killed my son. It was an accident, but his own fault. I suppose you think I’m callous because I’m not weeping and causing a commotion about the place, but I am not the weeping sort. I’ve been through enough in my life to teach me to control myself and keep my feelings from outsiders. . . .’

  ‘I must warn you, Mrs. Todd. . . . ’

  ‘I know. We will take it as said and when I sign the statement I will embody in it the fact that I was warned that it might be used in evidence. You were very near the truth in your deductions. My son, Hector, had grown completely debauched at the time of his death. Not only was he drinking brandy liberally, but he was a heroin addict as well. He treated his wife shamefully and at the last school holidays we arranged for his boys to spend them elsewhere rather than see their father’s condition. He came home when he wanted anything; he spent the rest of his time drinking on his boat or else gallivanting elsewhere with some woman or other. Lucy and Kenneth are in love with each other, but for the sake of the boys and the family good name Lucy would not consider a divorce. It is a wonder Kenneth did not kill him before this.’

  She paused.

  ‘Give me some of that brandy. I’m not supposed to drink it, but this is an exception. . . .’

  He passed her the bottle and a glass and she helped herself liberally and drank it slowly.

  ‘On the night of his death, Hector, knowing that my jewellery was here in the safe for one night, came after we’d gone to bed, let himself in with the key he always kept, and removed the jewellery from the safe. He must have had the key mad
e at some time or other. I knew he had it, wherever he had obtained it, because he had opened the safe before and taken money from it. He was drunk and I heard him enter. I was reading in bed and often do, for I’m a poor sleeper. I got up and came down to investigate. I thought at first it was a burglar. There have been some robberies at several of the large houses in the district. . . .’

  She took another drink of the brandy.

  ‘Excuse me. May I ask a personal question? How mobile are you, Mrs. Todd? Can you move around without your wheel-chair?’

  ‘No. I cannot place any weight on my legs. I can get in and out of bed or from the wheel-chair to another chair without help. That is all.’

  ‘Thank you. Please proceed.’

  ‘I misinformed you about the gun. I had one at the time of Hector’s death. It was an old one, small, purchased by my husband at a pawnshop. It was never licensed because until recently we had forgotten we had it. However, there have been so many burglaries and acts of vandalism of late that I found and cleaned it and put it in the drawer of my dressing table, more for reassurance than anything else, for the occasions when Kenneth is away for the night and there are only three women here in the house.’

  Her conversation was objective and matter-of-fact. She might have been discussing the tragedy of someone else.

  ‘I took the revolver with me when I went downstairs.’

  ‘In the lift?’

  ‘Yes. I cannot walk down. As I said, I found Hector there, with the safe open. He was preoccupied with the contents of my jewel-cases and I surprised him. He was drunk and very awkward. He told me plainly he was in trouble and was leaving the country for good. And, as he had no money to support him, he was taking some of my jewellery for that purpose. As a matter of fact, judging from his behaviour, he was taking the lot! I cannot tell you, word for word, what we said to each other. I was in a rage and I had reached the end, the point of no return. I told him I was going to send for the police if he insisted on taking what he had come for. He pushed me and the chair away from the phone. It was then that I pulled the revolver from my handbag and told him to stand aside. He was facing me, lunged at me to snatch the revolver, tripped, and staggered over the foot-boards of my chair . . . these.. .’

 

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