‘I’ll cut the rope,’ he repeated.
She looked up at him unflinchingly, and the merciless light revealed the twisted smile on her small, hideous mouth.
‘You wouldn’t dare,’ she said. ‘You haven’t the courage. Get back; I’ll deal with you later.’
She descended another step deliberately.
‘Come back!’ Campion’s voice was menacing. ‘Hold tight. I’m going to draw you up.’ He gripped the rope and took the strain, but she was a heavy woman, and he knew instinctively that in spite of the knots the task would be beyond him.
Mrs Dick, who had remained motionless on the rope, steadying herself for any such attempt, jeered at him openly.
‘Mind your own business,’ she said. ‘If you must interfere, go downstairs and call a servant to help you.’
Her voice sounded a little farther away, and he knew that she was climbing down. Again he bent over the parapet. He caught sight of her feet reflecting the red glare from the window.
‘Come back!’ he called hoarsely. ‘Come back, for God’s sake!’
‘Just a moment.’ The words came softly to him as she deliberately lowered herself another foot, and adjusting her position, peered into the window.
There was a pause which seemed like an age. The man bending forward with his torch directed upon the hunched figure on the rope received some of the tremor which shot through her body. The red light was on her face, and he saw her shoulders twitch as she hung there, apparently fascinated by what she saw. In that moment the world seemed to have paused. It was as if the Tower and garden had held their breath.
Then from somewhere beneath him he fancied he heard a faint, almost indetectable sound. It was a sound so intangible that it did not convey anything concrete to his mind, so soft that he questioned it immediately afterwards. The effect upon Mrs Dick, however, was instantaneous.
‘No!’ she said distinctly, ‘no!’
The last word was smothered by a shuddering intake of breath, and she swung round on the rope, hanging to the full length of her arms. Her face was turned up to the man on the Tower for an instant. He saw her lips drawn back over her teeth, her eyes wide and expressionless with fear, while a thin trickle of saliva escaped at one corner of her mouth. He bent forward.
‘Hold on,’ he said, not realizing that he was whispering. ‘Hold on!’
But even as he looked, her limp fingers relinquished their grip, he heard the sickening hiss of the rope as it raced through her hands, and she receded with horrible slowness down, down, out of the range of his torch into the darkness below.
The body crunched as it hit the flags, and then silence. The guardian of the Gyrth Chalice had protected its treasure.
Mr Campion, sick and trembling uncontrollably in the cold wind, reeled unsteadily to the turret and went quietly downstairs.
CHAPTER 26
Mr Campion’s Employer
—
The East Suffolk Courier and Hadleigh Argus for
July 7th
SAD FATALITY AT SANCTUARY
Coroner Comments on Curiosity
AN INQUEST was held on Saturday last at the Three Drummers Inn, Sanctuary-by-Tower, before Doctor J. Cobden, Coroner for the district, on Daisy Adela Shannon (44) of Heronhoe Stables, Heronhoe, who fell from the tower in the east wing of the mansion of Colonel Sir Percival Gyrth, Bt, on the night of July 2nd while a birthday party was in progress.
The body was discovered by Mr Alfred Campion, a guest at the Tower. Mr Campion, 17 Battle Street, London, W1, said that on Thursday evening he was walking across the lawn at about 11.25 p.m. when he noticed someone moving on the top of the east wing tower. He thought that it was a member of the household, and hailed them. Receiving no reply he became alarmed, a state of mind which increased when he perceived that one of the dining-room windows stood open. He ran into the house and climbed the staircase to the top landing, coming out at last upon the roof. The jury subsequently viewed the staircase, which is one of the show-pieces of Suffolk.
Mr Campion, continuing, said that when he reached the roof of the Tower he found himself alone. Running downstairs again he discovered the deceased lying on the flagstones at the foot of the Tower. He immediately summoned the household.
Corroborative evidence was given by Roger Arthur Branch, butler to Sir Percival, and by the Rev. P. R. Pembroke, of The Rectory, Sanctuary, who was visiting the Tower at the time of the accident.
Dr A. H. Moore, of Sanctuary Village, said that death was due to contusion of the brain following fracture of the skull. Death was instantaneous.
Evidence of identification was given by W. W. Croxon, Veterinary Surgeon, of The Kennels, Heronhoe.
P. C. Henry Proudfoot deposed that he was summoned to the Tower at 11.45 p.m. on the night in question. He climbed to the top of the Tower and there discovered a length of rope (produced) attached to a flagpole on the summit.
David Cossins, of 32 Bury Road, Hadleigh, dealer, identified the rope as having been sold to the deceased on the 18th or 19th of June last. When asked if in his opinion this rope was sufficiently strong to bear the weight of a human body, witness opined that it undoubtedly was.
Sir Percival, asked by the Coroner if he could offer any explanation for deceased’s presence on his estate at so late an hour, replied that he was at a total loss to account for it. He was only casually acquainted with the deceased, and she was not a guest at his son’s coming-of-age party, which was necessarily an intimate affair in view of the recent bereavement in the family.
By P.C. Proudfoot, recalled: A red two-seater Fraser Nash motor-car, later identified by registration marks as the property of deceased, was found drawn up against some bushes in the drive later in the evening. Lights were extinguished, and it was reasonable to suppose that this was done by deceased.
Questioned, Proudfoot suggested that the deceased had attempted to lower herself on to the centre window-sill of the fourth floor of the Tower, where, according to popular superstition, some festivities took place on the occasion of a birthday in the family. Proudfoot apologized to the Court for the intrusion of common superstition and gossip, but opined that the deceased had attempted her giddy descent in the execution of a wager with some third party who had not come forward. Deceased was a well-known sporting character of the district, and had been known to enter into undertakings of this sort in the past. Witness cited the occasion of the Horse v. Automobile race in 1911, when deceased challenged Captain W. Probert, the well-known motorist, over a distance of twenty miles across country.
The Coroner told the jury that he was inclined to accept the Constable’s very intelligently reasoned explanation as being as near the truth as they were likely to arrive. In her attempt to carry out this unparalleled piece of foolhardy daring in a woman of her age, the deceased had undoubtedly suffered from an attack of vertigo and so had fallen.
The Coroner added that it would be a lesson to all on the evils of undue curiosity and the undesirability of entering into foolish sporting contracts which might endanger life or limb. The Coroner said he could not express himself too strongly on the subject. He regretted, as must all those in Court, that such an unfortunate accident should have visited itself upon Colonel Sir Percival Gyrth and his family, who were already suffering from a very recent bereavement. He instructed the jury, therefore, to bring in a verdict according to the evidence. The jury returned a verdict of Accidental Death, the Foreman (Mr P. Peck, senr) remarking that they would like to second the Coroner’s expressions of regret.
The funeral will take place at Heronhoe tomorrow, Tuesday. A short obituary notice appears in another column with a list of the deceased’s sporting awards. It is understood that the deceased died intestate, and her property, which is in very bad repair, few of the windows being whole and many of the doors off their hinges, was in the hands of the Police when our Representative called yesterday.
‘A very intelligently reasoned explanation indeed,’ remarked Mr Campion, putting down the paper
. ‘Mark my words, Val. We shall have old Proudfoot a sergeant before we know where we are. And rightly so, as they say on the soap-box.’
He lay back in his deck-chair and put his arms behind his head. They were all four of them, Penny, Beth, Val and himself, seated beneath the trees at the far corner of the lawn on a brilliant morning some days after the events so ably recorded by the Argus. The adventures of the preceding weeks had left their marks on the young people, but there was a distinct hint of relief in the manner which told plainly of a tension that had relaxed.
Val had assumed a new air of responsibility during the few days since his coming of age. He seemed, as Penny remarked, to have grown up. She and Beth were frankly happy; as they lay in the comfortable chairs they looked like a couple of schoolgirls with their bare arms and long thin legs spread out to the sunlight which dappled through the leaves.
Mr Campion alone bore concrete marks of battle. His face was still scored by the weals of Mrs Dick’s whip, but apart from this slightly martial disfigurement, he looked even more amiably fatuous than ever.
‘They’re nearly as bright about the Gypsies,’ Penny observed as she took up the paper from the grass. ‘Apparently “a raid was thought to have been made by van dwellers on a party of undesirables camping on Heronhoe Heath. The van dwellers have since disappeared, and some of the injured campers have been taken to the Police Infirmary.” I believe you managed that, Albert. Oh, to think that it’s all all right!’ She sighed luxuriously. ‘To look back upon it’s like a welsh rarebit nightmare with you as the hero.’
‘With me as the rabbit,’ said Mr Campion feelingly. ‘The Professor was the hero. Lugg’s painting an illuminated address that we’re going to present to him. It begins “Hon. Sir and Prof.” and goes on with all the long words he’s ever heard from the Bench. All about Depravity, Degradation, and Unparalleled Viciousness. He’s turning them into the negative, of course. It’ll be a stupendous document when it’s finished. Perhaps the Professor will let you two have a copy of it for a wedding present.’ He grinned at Val and Beth, who were quite blatantly holding hands between their deck-chairs. They smiled at each other and Mr Campion went on.
‘Had it not been for the Professor, Mr “Alfred Campion” would doubtless have figured in another role, and some crueller Coroner than old Doctor Cobden would be moralizing on the dangers of putting strange animals in other people’s stables. The Professor’s a stout fellow, as we say in the Legion. How are the two papas today, by the way?’
‘Splendid,’ said Penny. ‘I saw a sweet sight as I came past the library window. You know they retired to discuss deep archaeological secrets? Well, when I came past there were two armchairs drawn up by the open window, two little curls of cigar smoke, and there was Daddy deep in The New Yorker – a most indelicate young woman on the cover, my dears – and the Professor regaling himself with Punch. Too sweet.’
‘Hands across the sea, in fact,’ said Campion. ‘I shall hear the tinkle of little silver bells in a minute.’
Beth laughed. ‘The way they forgave each other for the Gypsies and your Aunt Di’s faux pas was rather cute,’ she said.
‘I know,’ said Penny. ‘ “My dear sir!” “Nonsense! My dear sir!” “Come and shoot partridges!” “Rubbish. Come and pick my roses.” All boys together. What delightful neighbours we are, are we not? Do you know, this is the first time I’ve felt this summer was worth living? By the way, Albert, when did you arrange everything so neatly with your fat friend, Mrs Sarah? I was trying to work it out in bed last night.’
‘Irreverent hussy,’ said Mr Campion, shocked. ‘She’d put a spell on you for that. Then you’d know all about it. I called upon the lady in question, as a matter of fact, on the night before I came home to find Lugg so curiously indisposed. I’d previously seen her, of course, very early on in the proceedings. I guessed I might need a spot of assistance sooner or later, so I asked them to hang around. As Mr Sanderson was staying at Heronhoe, it occurred to me that the heath was very conveniently situated. I pointed this out to Mrs Sarah and she had no doubts in her mind as to where the fun would arise.’
‘Then you knew about Mrs Dick?’ said Val. ‘From the beginning?’
‘Well, yes and no,’ said Mr Campion. ‘I thought she might be in it, but I did so hope she wouldn’t be in it alone. Mrs Munsey almost convinced me, but just before I visited Mrs Dick, I inquired about her in all the likely quarters, and after that, well it seemed desperately likely. She was head over heels in debt, and on the verge of all sorts of unkind attention from the Jockey Club Stewards. I asked my own pet turf expert about her over the phone and the Exchange cut us off long before he got into his stride. My hat! She had a nerve, though.’
Val looked at him in astonishment. ‘You talk as though you admired her,’ he said.
‘She had a way of compelling admiration,’ said Mr Campion, stroking his face thoughtfully. ‘If you ask me, there weren’t two hoots to choose between her and her horse. They were both vicious and both terrifying, both bad lots, but oh, boy! they both had Personality.’
Val grimaced. ‘I never liked her,’ he said. ‘By the way, I never saw why she set Mrs Munsey on to Aunt Di. What was the point of it?’
Mr Campion considered. ‘That took me off my balance at the beginning,’ he admitted, ‘but the local witch herself put me on to the truth. You see, Val, your aunt, silly as she was, never let the Chalice out of her sight for a second except when it was in its niche, half hidden behind iron bars. Arthur Earle, her artist friend, probably complained to Headquarters that his hostess was a nuisance in this respect, and Mrs Dick, knowing of Mrs Munsey’s peculiarities, and your aunt’s propensity for wandering about at night, hit on the idea of giving her Ladyship a shock that would keep her indisposed for a day or two, during which time the disappointed artist, deprived of his sitter, might easily get permission to continue his portrait of the Chalice. You see,’ he went on, ‘a man like Arthur would want to weigh it and examine it really thoroughly, which he could hardly do with your aunt about. Unfortunately for all concerned, Mrs Munsey was too much for your aunt and the whole scheme came unstuck.’
Penny sighed. ‘It was bad luck on Aunt Di,’ she said. ‘Mr Pembroke’s looking after the Munseys. Did you know? They’ll have to go into a home, he says, poor things.’
Val’s mind still dwelt upon the mechanism of Mrs Dick’s original scheme. ‘I suppose,’ he said bitterly, ‘they set out with the idea of bribing me to swap a copy for the cup? We owe a lot to you, Campion.’
His friend did not appear to hear the last part of his remark.
‘I think that was it,’ Campion agreed. ‘Later, the “Major” and Sanderson came to spy out the nakedness of the land themselves. I believe that the “Major” was the expert who decided that the Chalice in the Cup House was not the real one, once they got hold of it. I’ve never felt so sick in my life as I did when Stanislaus phoned me to tell me they’d got the copy. That was a darn clever raid of theirs. It was only sheer bad luck on Stanislaus’ part that they were successful, though. If that bobby on the door had been an older hand it wouldn’t have happened.’
Penny grinned at him from where she lay basking like a kitten in the heat. ‘Thinking it over, Albert,’ she remarked, ‘it has occurred to me that you don’t work up your publicity properly at all. Modesty is all very sweet and charming but it doesn’t get you anywhere. According to your account of the whole thing to Daddy you haven’t done anything at all worth talking about.’
Mr Campion blinked at her from behind his spectacles.
Beauty is truth, truth beauty, and these three
Hover for ever round the gorbal tree –
‘Ovid,’ he said. ‘Like Sir Isaac Newton and his fishing-rod, I cannot tell a lie.’
‘Still,’ said Penny, unimpressed, ‘you might have put it a bit better. For instance, about Val being kidnapped. When you’re asked for an explanation you simply say you called for him at a garage, and brought him back and put him
in a field because you were in a hurry to get back to London to see a bookmaker. You must learn to work up your stories more. A yarn like that gets you nowhere.’
‘But all quite true,’ said Mr Campion mildly. ‘And not really extraordinary. When Inspector Oates told me over the phone that Val had gone charging after the gentleman who had stolen his suitcase, it was perfectly obvious to me that if he had caught the thief he would have returned with him, and if he hadn’t caught him, then the thieving gentleman’s friends had caught Val. Therefore,’ he went on, beaming at them from behind his spectacles, ‘Val was the unwelcome guest of someone who was probably Mr Matthew Sanderson or one of his associates. They didn’t want to keep him about the place, you see. They thought they’d got their prize, and once they had disposed of it in the right quarter, they had nothing to fear. I guessed they’d plant him somewhere and say no more about it.’
Beth’s brown eyes opened wide. ‘But they might have killed him,’ she said.
‘Hardly,’ said Campion judicially. ‘There is no one who is more anxious to avoid an unpleasant death in the house than your English crook. You see, in England, in nine cases out of ten, if there’s a body there’s a hanging. That rather cramps their style when disposing of people. Working all this out with lightning speed, what did Our Hero do? He got out his little motor-car and went a-visiting.’ He paused.
‘It may have dawned on you people that all my friends are not quite the article. So, sure enough, in one of their back-yards I found our juvenile lead lying happily on a lot of old motor tyres waiting to be dropped somewhere where he could be “found wandering”. I relieved the gentleman in charge of his guest, admired his wife’s new frock, kissed the baby and came home. It was so abominably easy that I hadn’t the face to tell you all, even if I had had time, so I left him where I thought Beth might find him and went on to see our lady friend, who was beginning to worry me.
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