'She went out in her car on Friday morning carrying an envelope,' Ned said. 'She said she was going to mail a letter.'
'Thank you,' Ann said. 'I doubt very much if she did actually mail it. However, it's not important. So long as Mr Ransom will prefer charges, we've got her where we want her.'
'Sugar,' Rex said, 'you've got yourself a deal.'
There was silence for several seconds. Everyone looked at Allgood. But he seemed incapable of speech. Eventually it was Lady Burford who spoke. 'Well, Miss Fry, have you nothing to say?'
Maude Fry burst into tears. 'I've never done anything like this before,' she sobbed. 'Whatever this girl says. It was a sudden temptation. I knew Mr Ransom had all that money, and - and . . .' She tailed off.
A look of pure self-satisfaction appeared on Ann Davies's face. She said, 'My case is proved, I think.' She sat down.
Suddenly Allgood shouted angrily at her. 'Why didn't you tell me all this before? It's disgraceful!'
'I'm sorry. I suppose I should have. But as I knew nothing about the murder, other than what I've told you, I didn't think it would matter.'
'You lied about where you were when the shot was fired.'
Yes, but it made no difference. I told you the whole truth about what I'd seen and heard. Of course, if I'd known you were going to pick on me as your number one suspect, I'd have told you the truth about that too. But yesterday you informed me I was no longer under suspicion. If you'd put to me the point about my not being able to hear the shot from my room, instead of rushing in bull-headed with a public accusation, I'd have explained everything and you wouldn't have made such a fool of yourself.'
Gerry thought Allgood was going to burst, as his face slowly turned puce. It was the Earl who asked him the question in everybody's mind. Very gently, he said, 'Tell me, my dear chap, do you have any idea at all who killed Miss Lorenzo?'
'What? Of course I have. It was — it was — well, if it wasn't her, it was . . .' He gazed round desperately. 'It was him!' He pointed at Haggermeir. 'As I said first. Or them.' He indicated Ned and Mabel. 'Or possibly all of them. Yes, that's it. It's a conspiracy. They—' He stopped dead.
It was at that moment that Chief Inspector Wilkins cleared his throat.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Wilkins's intervention wasn't a particularly dramatic one. But it brought every eye in the room instantly round to him.
He stepped forward. 'I'm afraid Mr Allgood's rather got hold of the wrong end of the stick,' he said.
Lord Burford said, 'Wilkins, you mean you do know who killed Signorina Lorenzo?'
'Yes, my lord, I knew very early on in the investigation.' He turned his gaze mildly on Allgood. 'I did try to tell you, sir, but you weren't interested in my ideas only in facts. I gave you all the facts I knew. I really thought you'd make the same inferences from them that I had, but you didn't. So all I could do was play for time until I could get hold of the proof I needed.'
He addressed the room at large. 'Miss Lorenzo came to Alderley to try and identify a man who some years ago caused the death of a cousin of hers, a girl who was more like a sister, and robbed the family of some valuable jewellery. I learnt that the family still had a snapshot of this man. I arranged yesterday for an enlargement of it to be flown from Italy. Ever since then I've been waiting for it to arrive. It reached the Westchester police station a short time ago and was rushed straight here. A few minutes ago it was handed to me through the door by a constable. I don't think anybody noticed, as at that moment Mr Haggermeir and Mr Gilbert were engaged in their little fracas.'
Wilkins brought a glossy six-by-eight photo from behind his back and looked at it. 'As I said, it's only the enlargement of a snapshot, but I think it's quite identifiable.' Slowly he raised the photograph up for everyone in the room to see. The smiling face that confronted them was that of Paul Carter.
* * *
The first person to move was Paul. With one hand he caught Gerry by the arm and jerked her violently to him. The other hand flew inside his jacket and came out holding Allgood's revolver.
Only one man reacted as quickly. As the gun came up, Ned Turner threw himself at Paul, but he wasn't quite fast enough. The revolver barked. Ned fell to the floor, clutching at his leg. Mabel gave a cry and dropped to her knees beside him.
Paul shoved the muzzle of the gun against Gerry's head. 'If anyone moves, she dies.'
Halfway to his feet, Lord Burford froze. The Countess gave a strangled cry.
In a voice of disbelieving horror, Gerry gasped, 'Paul, are you out of your mind?'
'Shut up, you.' Then he snarled, 'Get against the far wall, all of you.'
'Do exactly as he says,' Wilkins ordered sharply.
The others began to back away to the wall adjoining the gun room, Ned being half carried by Rex and Haggermeir. When they were all lined up against it, Paul moved to the other door, pulling Gerry with him. Just inside it he stopped.
'I want some handcuffs.'
At a nod from Wilkins, Leather took a pair from his pocket. 'Slide them across the floor,' Paul snapped. Leather did so. They slopped near Gerry's feet. Paul gave her a jab with the gun. 'Put them on.'
He kept tight hold of her arm as she bent down, picked them up, and awkwardly manacled her wrists with them.
Paul addressed Wilkins. 'How many men have you got here?'
'None in the house. There's a man at the lodge.'
Paul gave a nod and looked at the Earl. 'Where will the servants be now?'
It was Lady Burford who answered. 'Probably all having their afternoon tea in the kitchen.'
'That's fine.' He gave Gerry a prod. 'OK, let's go.'
Rex said, 'If you want a hostage, why not take me? I'm not worth as much as Gerry, but I'm quite a valuable property.'
'Nothing doing, buddy.'
Allgood said hoarsely, 'Carter, you can't think you can get away with this.'
'Maybe not. But I'm certainly going to try. And remember this, all of you: if the police take me I'll hang. Well, can't hang twice, so I've got nothing to lose by killing again.'
He opened the massive door, pushed Gerry through, slipped quickly out after her, and pulled the door behind him. A second later they heard the tumblers slide across.
Wilkins swung round on the Earl. 'Is there a bell in here for the servants?' Lord Burford shook his head. 'Then we'll have to try and break the door down,' Wilkins said. 'Jack! And some of you help him.'
He hurried to the nearest window and looked out. 'No drainpipe, creeper, nothing. And a flat stone pavement underneath.'
Leather, Chalky, Arlington Gilbert, and Rex Ransom had begun throwing themselves against the door. Leather called, 'It's like a rock, sir.'
Hugh said quietly, 'Why not shoot the lock out?'
Lord Burford gave a gasp. 'Of course! The guns!' Groping on his watch-chain for the key, he hurried to the door of the collection room.
Haggermeir and Allgood meanwhile had lifted Ned onto one of the sofas and were attempting to staunch the flow of blood from his leg.
Lady Burford was sitting very still, erect and pale. Her eyes were closed and she appeared to be praying.
The Earl had by now disappeared into the collection room. Ann Davies followed him. She saw the French windows leading to the balcony at the far end and started to run towards them, calling, 'Perhaps there's a way down from the balcony.'
'There isn't,' Lord Burford said tersely, but Ann didn't stop.
The Earl strode rapidly to the part of the wall from which was slung a heavy modern hunting rifle. He snatched it down and half-ran to the ammunition cupboard again fumbling for keys, this time in his pocket.
Ann reached the far end, unbolted the windows, threw them open and stepped onto the balcony. She saw immediately that there was no possible means of climbing down. And below was the flat terrace outside the ground floor ballroom. Beyond that was the wide path that ran right round the house, a steep grass bank, and the lake.
Then, round the corner o
f the house, appeared Paul's car. The top was still down. He was at the wheel and Gerry was beside him. But he was going much too fast for the conditions, and Ann gave a gasp as the car skidded wildly on the icy surface. It slid to a halt, facing back in the direction it had come. Paul started to yank desperately at starter and gear.
Ann gave a yell into the room. 'Out here! He's getting away!'
Lord Burford, who'd loaded the rifle and was on his way back to the gallery, stopped, turned, and then ran down the room towards her.
By the time the Earl had joined Ann, Paul had got the car moving again, but the surface was as treacherous as a skating rink. The car was sliding from side to side, its wheels spinning furiously.
Ann gripped the Earl's arm. 'Can you shoot a tire out?'
He shook his head. 'Daren't risk it, with Gerry in the car.'
There was the sound of running footsteps, and they were joined on the balcony by Lady Burford, Hugh and Wilkins.
'Why's he come this way?' Hugh panted.
'He's avoiding the drive, and the policeman at the lodge,' the Earl muttered. 'He's going to take the track to the home farm. That'll lead him out onto a lane that runs directly to the main Westchester road.'
As he spoke, the wheels of the tourer seemed at least to find a dry patch. The car shot forward.
Just before the path reached a point opposite the watchers on the balcony, there was another bend in it. Hardly slowing at all to take it, Paul swung the wheel. At the same moment the car struck another patch of ice.
Its rear wheels skewed round, but the car continued in the same direction. It leapt from the path and over the bank, to land with an almighty splash in the lake.
The Countess gave a scream. The Earl dropped his rifle with a clatter on the floor. The car was slowly sinking beneath the water. They could see both Paul and Gerry struggling to extricate themselves.
In a matter of seconds Paul had got clear. He struck out strongly for the near bank. However, obviously realising that the steepness and slipperiness of it would make it almost impossible to climb unaided, he veered to his right and made for a point further away but where the bank was less steep. In his mouth, the trigger guard clamped between his teeth, was the revolver.
Lady Burford gave a cry. Gerry! Gerry, darling!'
Then they heard Gerry's voice. 'Help! I can't get out. The handcuffs - caught. Paul, help me!'
But Paul ignored the cries. He continued to swim for land.
The car was sinking even lower. The water was now only six inches below the top of the doors. 'When it gets to the top she'll sink in seconds,' Hugh whispered.
The Countess shouted, 'Oh, somebody do something!'
Lord Burford made a sudden lunge for the balustrade. Wilkins grabbed at him, and the Earl tried to shake him free.
'It's no good, sir. You'll break a leg at the very least.'
Suddenly Hugh gave a loud shout. 'I've got it!' He turned and sprinted down the room.
In the gallery the three men were still working on the door. But now they'd taken up Ned's plank and were about to start using it as a battering-ram. Hugh yelled to them, 'Take that to the balcony! Lean it against the balustrade! Make a ramp! Quick!'
They hesitated only a second, then turned and started to run, carrying the plank between them.
Hugh dashed towards the end of the gallery. As he did so he snapped over his shoulder, Allgood, help me with this sofa!'
Allgood, who was sitting slumped on a chair, a picture of defeat, jumped up and ran after him. 'What are you going to do?'
'Try Turner's idea.
'What? Don't be a lunatic!'
'Stop arguing. Move it!'
From where he lay, Ned called, 'You'll never make it, man. You'll kill yourself.'
Hugh, with Allgood's help, was already heaving the sofa to one side. Over his shoulder he shouted, 'You were going to do it.'
I'm a pro, and I'd have had a helmet and protective suit.'
'It's either this, or Gerry drowns.' He threw his leg over the saddle and kicked at the starter.
With a roar that reverberated like a dozen engines round the gallery, the motor burst into life. Hugh rode it to the centre of the room, turned it to face the door of the gun room, and backed it until the rear wheel was tight against the outer door. Beyond the far door of the gallery the collection room stretched ahead, a sort of passage running between the display cases. The other men had done their job. The plank was in position. It looked a tiny target, yet at the same time absurdly close.
Hugh closed his eyes, said a silent prayer, squeezed the clutch, engaged bottom gear, and twisted the throttle to give maxirevs. The engine howled.
Hugh opened his eyes, put all his weight on the saddle, pulled up on the handle-bars to give optimum grip under the rear wheel, and let out the clutch. The bike rocketed forward.
For the first time Hugh felt the full power of the machine's engine. Accelerating at an enormous rate, he shot across the gallery and into the gun room. As he tore along it he kept his gaze fixed on the ridiculously narrow plank. Two inches out and he'd tilt it and go crashing into the wall or the balustrade. Then his front wheel had hit it - dead centre.
There was a jolt, and for a split second he was climbing the steeply sloping ramp. The next second he felt a blast of cold air on his face, and he was flying. For a moment he saw everything laid out below him like an aerial photograph: the terrace, the path, the grassy bank, and the icy waters of the lake.
He wasn't aware of the moment he parted company with his bike. He just knew that suddenly he was sailing through the air like a bird. He felt an instant of wild, insane elation, and then he was plummeting feet first towards the lake.
Miraculously he managed to remain upright, and had the presence of mind to take a lungful of air. Then he was immersed in freezing blackness - sinking, sinking, sinking . . .
* * *
As Hugh hit the water every breath on the balcony was held. He'd landed seven yards from the car, in which Gerry was still struggling desperately to free herself. The water was now one inch from the top of the door. They waited, no one moving or making a sound. Seconds seemed like hours.
Then Hugh's head broke water. He stared, gasping, around him, spotted the car, and started a fast crawl towards it.
Lord Burford gave a gasp. 'By Jove, he's made it!'
But even while he spoke the car was continuing to sink. Then Hugh had reached it. He heaved the door open and water cascaded into the car. In seconds it had reached Gerry's shoulders. Hugh took a deep breath and once more disappeared beneath the surface.
Even though Gerry was straining upwards to the limit of her reach, the water had now got to her chin.
Then the horrified watchers saw her head suddenly vanish beneath the water like an angler's float. Lady Burford gave a little cry.
But the next moment they realised what had happened. Hugh had grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her down, as the only way of easing the tension on the handcuffs and releasing her.
Further nerve-racking seconds passed. But then the two heads, the dark and the red, appeared together, moving slowly but safely from the car as it finally sank beneath the water.
Just then a sight never before and never again to be seen at Alderley was observed: Merry weather appeared - running. He came around the corner of the house and threw himself down on the bank, exactly as Hugh and Gerry reached it. Ten seconds later, with his help, they were out of the water.
Gerry fell against Hugh and he put his arms around her. They stood locked together, the water dripping from them. The countess let out a long shuddering sigh. 'Thank heavens.'
Meanwhile, however, Paul had reached the other bank and had been desperately trying to scramble out. But although the bank here was less steep, it was very slippery, and he kept falling back. He took the gun from his mouth and threw it up onto the grass. Then he made one final effort and at last managed to heave himself up out of the water, at almost the same moment as Merryweather was
helping the others ashore. Paul lay gasping for a few seconds, then dragged himself to his feet. He looked up and saw Hugh and Gerry together. Abruptly his expression changed to one of malice and rage. He bent, snatched up the revolver, and aimed it straight at them.
In the nick of time, Hugh saw the danger. As Paul fired he threw himself flat, pulling Gerry down with him. Merryweather, too, dropped to the ground and the bullet passed harmlessly over them. Paul took aim a second time.
At that instant the Earl and Countess were deafened by a loud report from beside them. Paul fell as though poleaxed. He made an attempt to rise, then collapsed again and lay still.
Lord and Lady Burford swung round to see Wilkins in the act of lowering the Earl's rifle from his shoulder. He gazed at them. Suddenly he looked very tired. Then he seemed to collect himself.
'Oh, I beg your pardon, my lord. Do forgive me for using your gun without permission.'
Lord Burford let out his breath in a long gasp. He put his hand on Wilkins's shoulder. 'Any time, Wilkins, any time at all.'
The Countess drew herself up. 'Well, everything seems to be over. Oh, dear, that girl! Always in some sort of scrape. George, you really must have a serious talk with her.'
Chapter Twenty-Three
'Well, Wilkins,' St. John Allgood said in the small music room later, 'that all ended very satisfactorily.'
'I suppose so, sir.'
Two hours had passed. Two ambulances and a doctor had arrived and departed, as well as more policemen. The body of Paul Carter had been removed to the mortuary. Ned Turner had been taken to the nearest hospital, Mabel accompanying him. Maude Fry had been arrested and escorted by Sergeant Leather to the police station. Arlington Gilbert and Cyrus Haggermeir, both strangely subdued, had retired to their rooms. After a hot bath, a deeply shocked Geraldine had been given a sedative and sent to bed, and the Countess was still with her.
The Affair of the Mutilated Mink Page 26