Have His Carcass lpw-8
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‘Do you think so?’
‘Possibly. Or, more likely, he doesn’t’ want to get on the wrong side of her. It’s her money, you know.’
‘Quite. Yes. It’s funny that that should only just ‘have occurred to him. He’s very like her, isn’t he?’
‘Very. So much so that he gave me an odd feeling just at first, as though I’d met him somewhere. Do you mean that they are too much alike to hit it off together?’
‘They seem to be getting along all right at present’
‘I expect he’s glad to be relieved from the prospect of Paul Alexis, and can’t help showing it. He’s not very subtle.’
That’s what feminine intuition makes of it, is it?’
‘Bother feminine intuition. Do you find him romantic or obscure?’
‘No; I wish I did. I only find him offensive.’
‘Oh?’
‘And I’d like to know why.’
Silence for a few moments. Harriet felt that Wimsey ought to be saying, ‘How well you dance.’ Since he did not say it, she became convinced that she was dancing like a wax doll with sawdust legs. Wimsey had never danced with her, never held her in his arms before. It should have been an epoch-making moment for him. But his mind appeared to be concentrated upon the dull personality of an East Anglian farmer. She fell a victim to an inferiority complex, and tripped over her partner’s feet.
‘Sorry,’ said Wimsey, accepting responsibility like a gentleman.
‘It’s my fault,’ said Harriet. ‘I’m a rotten dancer. Don’t bother about me. Let’s stop. You haven’t got to be polite to me, you know.’
Worse and worse. She was being peevish and egotistical. Wimsey glanced down at her in surprise and then suddenly smiled.
‘Darling, if you danced like an elderly elephant with arthritis, I would dance the sun and moon into the sea with you. I have waited a thousand years to see you dance in that frock.’
‘Idiot’ said Harriet.
They made the circuit of the room in silence and harmony. Antoine, guiding an enormous person in jade-green and diamonds, swam comet-like into their orbit and murmured into Harriet’s ear across an expanse of fat white shoulder:
‘Qu’est-ce que je vous ai-dit? L’elan, c’est trouve.’
He slid away dexterously, leaving Harriet flushed.
‘What did that blighter say?’
‘He said I danced better with you than with him.’
‘Curse his impudence!’ Wimsey scowled over the heads of the intervening couples at Antoine’s elegant back.
‘Tell me now,’ said Harriet. The ending of the dance had found them on the opposite side of the room from the Weldons, and it seemed natural to sit down at the nearest table. ‘Tell me, what is biting you about Henry Weldon?’
‘Henry Weldon?’ Wimsey jerked his mind back from an immense distance. ‘Yes, of course. Why is he here? Not to worm himself into his mother’s good graces, surely?’
‘Why not? Now is his time. Alexis is disposed of and he sees his opportunity. Now that he had nothing to lose by it, he can afford to come along and be frightfully sympathetic and help to investigate things and be filial and affectionate and so on.’
‘Then why is he trying to drive me out of the place?’
‘You?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Weldon went out of his way in the bar this evening to be as offensive as he possibly could, without using actual violence or bad language. He informed me, in an indirect but unmistakable manner, that I was poking my nose in where I was not wanted, exploiting his mother for my private ends and probably sucking up to her for her money. In fact, he drove me to the indescribable vulgarity of reminding him who I was and why I did not require anybody’s money.’
‘Why didn’t you sock him one over the jaw?’
‘It was a temptation. I felt that you would love me better if I did. But you would not, in your calmer moments, really wish me to put my love before my detective principles.’
‘Certainly not, But what’s his idea?’
‘Oh, that’s clear enough. He made it very clear. He wants it to be understood that this detecting business is to stop, and that Mrs Weldon is to be restrained from lavishing time and money in pursuit of non-existent Bolsheviks.’
‘I can understand that. He’s looking to inherit the money.’
‘Of course. But if I were to go and tell Mrs Weldon the things he’s been saying to me, she’d probably disinherit him.
And where would be the use of all this display of sympathy then?’
‘I knew he was a stupid man.’
‘He evidently thinks it very important to stop all these inquiries. So much so that he’s prepared, not only to risk my splitting on him, but also to spend an indefinite time here hanging round his mother to see that she doesn’t make inquiries on her own.’
‘Well, I daresay he has nothing else to do.’
‘Nothing else to do? My dear girl, he’s a farmer.’
‘Well?’
‘And this is June.’
‘What about it?’
‘Why isn’t he attending to his hay-making?’
‘I didn’t think of that.’
‘About the last weeks of the year that any decent farmer would be willing to waste are the weeks from hay to harvest. I can understand his running over for a day, but he seems to be prepared to make a session of it. This Alexis business has become so important that he’s ready to chuck everything, come down to a place he detests and hang about interminably in an hotel in attendance on a mother with whom he has never had very much in common. I think it’s funny.’
‘Yes, it is rather funny.’
‘Has he ever been here before?’
‘No. I asked him when we met. It’s the kind of thing one does ask people. He said he ‘hadn’t. I expect he kept away while all the Alexis business was going on — he’d hate it.’
‘And content himself with forbidding the banns at a distance?’
‘Yes — though it doesn’t seem the most effective way.’
‘No? But the banns have been fairly effectively forbidden,
haven’t they?’
‘Yes. But — are you casting Henry for the part of the murderer?’
‘I should like to. But I don’t feel I can, somehow.! ‘No?’
‘No. That’s why I wanted to find out whether you thought, Henry was subtle. You don’t, and I agree with you. I don’t think Henry has the brains to have murdered Paul Alexis.’
Chapter XIII. Evidence Of Trouble Somewhere
‘Fool, would thy virtue shame and crush me down;
And make a grateful blushing bond-slave of me?’
— Death’s Jest-Book
Tuesday 23 June
Loan PETER WIMSEY, reading his Morning Star over the eggs and bacon, felt better than he had done for some weeks. The Morning Star had come up’ to scratch nobly, and was offering £100, reward for information about the razor that had slain Paul Alexis. Bunter, returning from his fruitless journey to Eastbourne, had come on to join his master at Wilvercombe, bringing with him a fresh supply of shirts, collars, and, other; garments. Harriet Vane had danced with Lord Peter in a wine-coloured frock. Wimsey considered, rightly, that when, a woman takes a man’s advice about the purchase of clothes, it is a sign that she is not indifferent to his opinion. Various women, at various times and in various quarters of the globe, had clothed themselves by Wimsey’s advice and: sometimes also at his expense — but then, he had fully expected them to do so. He had not expected it of Harriet, and was as disproportionately surprised and pleased as if he had picked up a sovereign in the streets of Aberdeen. Like all male creatures, Wimsey was a simple soul at bottom.
Not only had he this satisfactory past and present to contemplate; he anticipated an interesting day. Harriet had consented to walk with him that afternoon from the Flat-Iron to Darley in search of clues. Low-water being billed to take place at 4.45, they had arranged to drive out to the Flat-Iron, arri
ving there at 3.30. After a little light refresh merit, the expedition would set out, searching conscientiously for whatever the shore might, have to show them, while Bunter brought the car back by the road to Hinks’s Lane; after which all three would return to their base at Wilvercombe in their original formation. It was all very clear, except that Harriet did not see — and said as much — what clues were likely to remain on the open shore after nearly a week of exceptionally high tides. She admitted, however, that she needed exercise and that walking was better exercise than most.
And — most immediate of pleasant things to look forward to — Harriet had further agreed to receive Lord Peter Wimsey after breakfast at the Resplendent, for a conference. It was necessary, in Wimsey’s opinion, that the progress made so far should be tabulated and brought into some sort of order. Ten o’clock was the hour fixed for this meeting, and Wimsey was lingering lovingly over his bacon and eggs, so as to leave no restless and unfilled moment in his morning. By which it may be seen that his lordship had reached that time of life when a man can extract an Epicurean enjoyment even from his own passions — the halcyon period between the self-tormenting exuberance of youth and the fretful carpe diem of approaching senility.
The great wind had fallen at last. It had rained a little during the night, but now the sky was fair again, with only the gentlest of breezes ruffling the blue expanse of sea that was visible from the Bellevue’s dining-room windows. Inspector Umpelty had been out with his helpers to explore the Grinders at “four o’clock that morning, and had just looked in on Wimsey to say that they had found nothing yet.
‘And why it hasn’t come ashore somewhere before this, I don’t know,’ he grumbled. ‘We’ve had a look-out kept all along the coast from Fishy Ness right up to Seahampton and on both sides of the estuary. Must have got hooked up with something. If we don’t get it within another week, we’ll have to give it up. Can’t waste public money fishing for drowned dagoes. The ratepayers grumble enough as it is, and we can’t keep the witnesses hanging round here for ever. Well, so long. We shall have another shot at low tide.’
At ten o’clock Wimsey and his collaborator sat down before a neat pile of scribbling paper. Harriet was inclined to be brief and businesslike.
‘What system are we going to adopt about this? Do you favour the Michael Finsbury method by double entry as in The Wrong Box? Or one of those charts made out in columns, with headings for “Suspect”, “Alibi”, “Witnesses”, “Motive” and so on, worked out in percentages?’
‘Oh, don’t let’s have anything that means ruling a lot of lines and doing arithmetic. Let’s behave like your Robert Templeton, and make a schedule of Things to be Noted and Things to be Done. That only means two columns.’
‘Very well, I’m glad you approve of it. I always make Templeton start with the corpse?
‘Right. Here goes—’
PAUL ALEXIS (GOLDSCHMIDT)
Things to be Noted
1. Russian by birth; English by adoption, partly American by education, Early, history unknown, but claimed to be, War refugee of noble descent.
Things to be Done
2. Investigate origin (N.B., The only people who knew, much about him are dead, and any way, this is a, job for the police. And does it really matter? Probably not, unless Mrs Weldon’s bolshevik theory is correct.)
Things to be Noted
1. Personal characteristics: Said to be delicate arthritis?); good dancer; vain of his appearance;
wore beard on account of tendency to pimples; careful of his dress, but — flamboyant in taste.
Said to be romantic and emotional.
2. Had he the temperament to commit suicide? Find out if possible from colleagues and/or his mistress
Things to be Noted
3. In February last, engaged himself To marry Mrs Weldon, a rich widow Apparently desirous to secure himself against loss of profession consequent on increasing ill health.
Not anxious to push on marriageon account of opposition put forward by widow’s son (or possibly on account of personal reluctance). Marriage fixed for fortnight or so after time of P.A.’s death.
Things to be Done
3. Find out if Alexis really took any steps about the marriage at all
Things to be Noted
4. Poor, but not mercenary or dishonest, since he refused to soak Mrs W. Had balance of £320,which he changed into gold about three weeks ago. (N. B. He was only able
to do so as result of curious accident. Can we say it was essential to any scheme he had
in mind?)
Things to be Done
4. Find the £300 in gold Its destination will throw light on his intentions. N. B. I think I know
where it is. (P. W.) Do you? Where? (H.V.) Think it out for yourself. (P. W.),
Things to be Noted
5. About time of above transaction, his mistress left him for another man
(N.B. He affected distress, but his colleagues seem to think he was an assenting party. If so, did he intend (a)to facilitate his marriage with Mrs W? (b) to start a new liaison with someone else?
to provide for his mistress in the event of his own disappearance or suicide?)
Things to be Done
5. Interview the girl Leila Garland and her new man
Things to be Noted
6. Shortly before his death he hinted to Mrs; W, that something pleasing was about to happen to him
Things to be Done
6. Find out if he mentioned this to anyone else. (Query: How does the turning of the £300 intogold bear on this point?
It is suggestive of departure from the country rather than of suicide.)
Things to be Noted
7. On the day preceding his death he paid all his bills and burnt his papers..
Does this suggest suicide? Or an intention to leave the country?
Things to be Done
7. Find out if he had a passport and visas. (Police.)
Things to-be Noted
8. On the morning of his death he took a return-ticket to Darley Halt, and thence walked (or, just possibly, was conveyed to the Flat-Iron Rock. (N.B. He packed no clothes and took his latch key with him.)
Things to be Done
8. I think we may take it for granted that none of the persons interviewed by the police took P. A. to the, Flat-Iron. Find out whether anybody passed him on the road. He may not have walked alone. (Police.)
Things to be Noted
9. At 2.10 p.m. on Thursday, 8 June, he was found dead on the rock with his throat cut. A loud cry was heard at two o’clock, and the condition of the body when found showed that life had been only a few minutes extinct. A razor (which he never used) was found by the body, and he was wearing gloves.
Things to be Done
9., FIND THE BODY.
‘How professional it looks,’ said Harriet. ‘A nice little set of problems for Robert Templeton. The only thing I can do much about is interviewing this Leila person and her new young man. I fancy I might get more out of them than the police could.’
‘There’s nothing I can do that the police can’t do better,’ said Wimsey, mournfully. ‘We’d better go on to the next!
MRS WELDON
Things to be Noted
1 Personal characteristics
Aged fifty-seven; silly; obstinate; genuinely at tached to Alexis; incurably romantic.
Things to be Done
Nothing to be done about it
Things to be Noted
2. Rich widow; one son; formerly on cool terms; with him and complained of lack of sympathy; now what she has summoned him to (a) her side and seems full of affection for him.
Things to be Done