by Anne Morice
‘No, but I’ve seen one like it before.’
‘When was that?’
‘About ten days ago, at Eglinton Hall. Someone threw a brick through the window and it had a note tied round it, in capital letters and red ink. It was some kind of warning or threat and it was signed by an outfit calling itself the Clean Up Britain Crusade, if that means anything to you?’
The atmosphere had lightened again. His manner was still guarded, but he was no longer contemplating me with the pitying disapproval which had been so painfully in evidence before.
‘I’ve come across the name somewhere or other,’ he admitted warily. ‘And do you know what became of the first message?’
‘As far as I know it was destroyed.’
‘And we were not informed?’
‘Well, no. The brick didn’t cause much damage, you see, apart from a broken window, and as a family they’re rather shy of publicity. I don’t think they took it too seriously either; just put it down to a spiteful prank.’
‘But you read the message? Can you recall what it said?’
‘If you’ll lend me your pen, I might. I can always see things better when I look at them,’ I explained, a remark which oddly enough was one of the few to leave his eyebrows stationary. He obediently handed over a ballpoint and a sheet of paper, and after one or two false attempts I gave him the final version.
‘I’ll keep this,’ he said, inserting it among his papers. ‘Too bad the original was destroyed, but perhaps we’ll have more luck with the one in the car. What do you think became of it?’
‘It’s all too obvious, I’m afraid. Walter must have removed it.’
‘The student chap? I’ve got his statement here somewhere—yes, here we are—Walter Greig, aged twenty-two . . . umm umm . . . doesn’t make any reference to the subject, but conceivably we didn’t ask him. Leaving aside motive, would he have had an opportunity to remove it?’
‘The best. He was alone in the garage for all of five minutes while I rang you up. I thought he’d fainted, but he could have been shamming, or he could have come round and then caught sight of the golf club, which as you know was hanging half out of the car. He had plenty of time to remove the paper, but you won’t find any prints because he had gloves with him.’
‘So your theory is that he pocketed the note and then destroyed it? How? By flushing it down the lavatory?’
‘Oh, nothing so crude. Thanks to my splendid co-operation, there was a far better way. I more or less sent him into the house to try and locate Mr Graham. All he had to do was walk through the main building and out by the back door and he’d be within five yards of the kiln. He could easily have shoved the paper inside because the doors open outwards, like a wardrobe, so there’s no danger, even when it’s going at full blast. If that’s what he did, there’ll be nothing left of it now.’
‘Providing the kiln is in operation, but that’s something we can very easily find out.’
The inspector laid a special emphasis on the last words, and again his eyebrows shot up to his hair line, but this time he was looking over my head, and the sergeant who had been sitting behind me got up and left the room.
‘I bet you’ll find it is,’ I said when he had gone. ‘They’re getting a batch of stuff finished off for an exhibition. Firing is the final process, after the painting and glazing has been done, so it’s bound to be running more or less continuously at present.’
‘Well, we’ll have another chat with the young man, but meantime do you know of any connection between him and these Clean Up people?’
‘No direct connection, to be fair,’ I admitted, ‘but I’ve been thinking it over and oddly enough he is the common factor. I don’t necessarily mean he was responsible but he was present on both occasions and each time he managed to create a certain amount of confusion.’
I described the events which had followed the brick throwing, omitting the theory which Kit had put forward concerning Walter’s personal motive for beating him up because I no longer knew whether I believed this or not.
‘He did not attempt to destroy the first message, however?’ the Inspector asked.
‘He didn’t get the chance. Several other people were on it like hawks, but he may well have decided to be first in pursuit of the attacker, not to catch him, you understand, but to ensure that he got away.’
‘Yes, I follow you, and that would seem to indicate that he had no part in Mrs Graham’s murder.’
‘Oh, really? Why does it do that?’
‘Come, now! Why go to all the trouble of attaching a note to the weapon, simply to remove it again at the first opportunity, not even knowing whether anyone had seen it, or recognised it for what it was?’
‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ I confessed. ‘But it doesn’t entirely let him out. Supposing the note was intended to scare one particular person, knowing that he or she, having seen it and been duly scared, could be depended upon to destroy it?’
‘By he or she, you mean the lady’s husband, I take it?’
‘He’s the most obvious one, don’t you think? I mean, you do realise that my turning up when I did was pure fluke? I wasn’t expected and if it hadn’t been for the puncture, not a soul would have gone into the garage until Mr Graham returned. Walter keeps his bike outside. What’s happened about the bike, incidentally? He seemed to be under the impression it had been stolen. Has it turned up yet?’
‘Not as far as I know, but I’ve had rather more pressing matters to deal with, as you can appreciate, the most urgent being the whereabouts of Mr Graham. I don’t suppose you can throw any light on that?’
‘I only know what Walter told me; that he was spending the morning at the museum. Mrs Graham was to have dropped him off there and collected him after her golf lesson. But I expect you know all that?’
‘Yes, and the first part went according to plan. He arrived at the museum just after ten and remained there until it closed. No one remembers seeing Mrs Graham but that doesn’t mean much. It’s a no parking area, so she wouldn’t have been able to stop there for more than a minute or two.’
‘But she did get to the golf course?’
‘Yes, she was seen there by several people, though not after twelve thirty which is when she would have left to meet her husband.’
‘Perhaps Sir Magnus Benson-Jones could fill in a bit more? That is if you can get close enough to ask him.’
‘You are well informed, aren’t you?’ the inspector asked, smiling down at his notes.
‘It’s no secret that he was giving her lessons.’
‘No, and we’ve already contacted him as it happens. He’s been quite co-operative, you’ll be glad to hear . . .’ He broke off, and from that moment lost interest in me because the sergeant had returned, very breathless and pleased with himself.
‘Excuse me interrupting, sir.’
‘Yes, Jessell, what is it?’
‘Mr Graham, sir. He’s been found.’
‘About time. Where?’
The sergeant tilted an eye in my direction, but evidently my stock remained high, for he got the signal to carry on.
‘At the Radcliffe. He was brought in half an hour ago. Concussion and minor injuries.’
‘What the hell? . . . What happened?’
‘Knocked down by a car, from the look of it. He was found lying by the roadside, about midway between here and Eglinton.’
‘Who found him?’
‘A Mrs Paley, sir. She told the hospital authorities she saw him lying by the road and stopped her car. She was on her way to Oxford, so she took him aboard and dropped him off at the Radcliffe. Daft thing to do, of course, but she says he was conscious at the time and in some distress. Bleeding too, apparently. There wasn’t a house within sight where she could telephone for the ambulance and she didn’t care to leave him there. Apparently he passed out during the drive and he was still unconscious when she brought him in.’
The inspector stood up. ‘Right. We’ll get down there now and
have a chat with him as soon as he wakes up. That’s all for now thank you, Mrs Price, but I expect we’ll be in touch with you shortly. Now, Jessell . . .’
Sergeant Jessell had left the door wide open on entering the room, so I followed his example when I left it, and heard him say:
‘You mean to interview Graham yourself, sir?’
To which the inspector replied cheerfully: ‘Oh yes, I think so. The sooner we get him talking the more likely we are to find out just how accidental an accident can be.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
‘By the way, you had a caller,’ Toby announced, when I had finished pouring out my tale into his intermittently attentive ear.
‘Did I? Who was that?’
‘The one you always say can’t act for toffee.’
‘Did I really say that? I suppose I must have, since I haven’t a doubt who you mean. What was he doing down here?’
‘Looking for you, presumably.’
‘But how did he know where to find me?’
‘He telephoned your London number and they gave him this one. He put two and two together and came in magnificent person.’
‘To save the price of another telephone call?’
‘I have an idea he was coming anyway. He mentioned that he was obligated to visiting the area. I can’t remember why. I suppose I’d stopped listening. In any case, he threatens to return.’
‘When?’
‘About half past six, when we shall feel obligated to offer him a drink, no doubt.’
‘I wonder what he wants? Not more yap yap about Henry’s defence, I hope. Not that it matters now. They won’t be able to hold Henry after this, will they?’
‘Why not?’
‘I should have thought it was obvious. The two murders must be connected. Henry couldn’t have committed the second one, so it follows—what’s the time, by the way?’
‘Nearly six.’
‘Bother! I wanted to ring Gerald and tell him to go into action, but he’ll have left his office by now.’
‘What’s the hurry if it’s as open and shut as you make out?’
‘Well, no harm in giving him a nudge. I think I’ll try his flat. Then he can get busy first thing in the morning.’
‘Well, don’t talk for hours,’ Toby warned me. ‘Your friend will be here soon and I have no intention of spending a single minute alone with him.’
‘Don’t worry, it’s as good as done.’
‘Oh no, it’s not,’ Gerald said. ‘Sorry old scout, but you’ve got the wrong end of the stick.’
‘But why, Gerald? There can’t be two murderers operating in an area of this size.’
‘On the contrary, old sport. You’d be surprised how infectious it can be.’
‘You really mean they won’t let Henry go now?’
‘Not on your say-so, or mine either. There’s a devil of a lot to be done before we reach that stage. And even then it’s dicey. They think they’ve got all the evidence they need and, believe me, they won’t let go that easily.’
‘Well, damn it all, Gerald, you see what this means? We’ve not only still got the first murder hanging round our necks, we now have to solve the second one as well and tie them both up in one gift wrapped parcel.’
‘Sooner you than me, old girl. And do make sure there isn’t a third.’
‘Oh, you bet. Listen, I’ve got to go now, Gerald. Someone’s arrived. It’s a bore, but he may put me on the track of something.’
I heard a faint groan from the other end before I rang off.
Kit was dead sober, but about as relaxed as a jumping bean. He brought me the news that Babs had been found dead in her own garage.
‘I know. You’re speaking to the one who found her.’
Whereupon he practically fainted away.
‘I didn’t know,’ he said, when the heartbeats had reverted to normal. ‘Toby never said a word.’
‘He’s only just heard. I’ve been assisting the police with their enquiries.’
‘For Christ’s sake, Tessa, it’s not a joke. Don’t you realise how ghastly it all is?’
‘Better than you do, I daresay; and, incidentally, how did you get the news so fast?’
‘I was lunching at the Hall and the police turned up. They wanted Magnus, but he’d gone to London. Actually, I think he’s flying to Munich tonight, or one of those places. Anyway Julie played it a bit cagey so they told her what it was all about. Then naturally she gave them his office number.’
‘You stagger me! She’s not usually so co-operative with the law.’
‘I’d just remind you that it was Julie who stopped Sarah being moved out of the tent.’
‘I know, but she had two witnesses on that occasion. Anyway what happened next?’
‘They asked if they could expedite things by ringing Magnus from the house. Julie took them out to the phone in the hall, where they more or less politely told her to get lost, so she didn’t hear what they said. Apparently they got what they needed though, because they said they probably wouldn’t have to bother her again.’
‘So what’s the panic?’
‘No panic. Did I say there was?’
‘Well, you tried to ring me in London, I understand?’
‘Oh, that! Well, we felt we ought to contact you. Julie and I both agreed it would be better than your hearing about it on a news bulletin.’
Naturally, I didn’t swallow this, such tender solicitude for my fragile nerves being somewhat out of character, but I concluded it was the best excuse he could drum up at short notice and I was not yet ready to disillusion him.
‘And to be absolutely frank with you,’ he went on, in an absolutely frank way, ‘it had hit us both that you could have been right about Henry, after all. It’s darn lucky for him, of course, the way things have turned out, but one has to accept that there’s a homicidal maniac on the loose, and the police have fallen flat on their faces. We can all see that now, but one has to hand it to you for guessing it all along.’
‘That’s mighty handsome of you, Kit.’
‘No, it’s Julie should take the credit,’ he admitted, battling gamely on with the rueful little boy act. ‘It was almost the first thing she thought of, after the police had left. She really grabbed the chance to contact you right away and offer to help with expediting Henry’s release.’
‘How very magnanimous of her!’
‘Okay, so you don’t like her, but she’s really a great human being, let me tell you. She may not have Sarah’s charisma, but she’s a very warm person. Her first thought, once she was over the shock, was to tell you that she . . . well, Magnus, really . . . had been totally wrong about Henry. You could hardly say fairer than that, could you?’
‘No, and you could hardly say more arrogant, either. What sauce to imagine that either she or her father could have prevented the police arresting the entire population if they’d had a mind to. And if you wonder why I’m not specially drawn to her, there’s your answer. It’s not so much the actual power which people of their sort wield, it’s their delusions of power which make them so terribly tedious and unreal. However, I wouldn’t expect you to agree; and why the quick turnabout? I thought you were the one who had no time for Julie?’
‘Me? You have to be joking!’
‘Well, I happen to know that she was cut to the quick when you sped off to the continent last week without even waving goodbye.’
Kit was so transparent sometimes that one could monitor the thoughts passing through his so-called brain as easily as though they were running across his forehead on a telex tape. When he had got the latest batch sorted out, he put on a matching face and said,
‘This is going to sound big-headed, I know, but try to understand. I’m devoted to Julie, but only like she was my sister. You see, I was in love with Sarah. It’s as simple as that.’
‘And you had begun to feel that Julie did not love you quite as a brother?’
‘Right. You probably saw what was happening way in advance of
when I did. It always knocks me out to find that someone has a thing about me. When I finally got around to it, I realised I was getting involved up to my neck. I didn’t want to hurt her. Christ, she’s had enough knocks in her life! I thought maybe if I were just to fade out for a bit it would give her time to cool off. She would realise she was only getting to feel that way because she was missing Sarah and desperately needed someone to put in her place. Given time to rationalise her emotions, she’d see they weren’t nearly so deep as she’d imagined.’
‘Well, bully for you! If only we could all solve our problems so easily!’
‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘I refer to the magic properties of your anti-love potion. The cooling off process seems to have been more rapid than even you could have anticipated. Just think of it!
You discover what the rest of us have known all along, but you’re not in the market, so you go to Rome and Paris for precisely five days. At the end of that time, absence has made the heart so much less fond that you can come down and have lunch with her today, just like brother and sister again.’
‘You’ve got it all wrong as it happens, Tessa, but I don’t have to justify myself to you, do I?’
‘No, so let’s not discuss it; but I didn’t seek you out, remember?’
‘I had to come down today,’ he said sulkily. ‘There wasn’t any option. If you must know, Julie wanted to see me about Sarah’s will. There was a letter from her at the flat when I flew in from Paris, asking me to go down there and discuss it. I could hardly refuse.’
‘I suppose not. Has she left you a packet?’
‘Christ, no, I shouldn’t think so for a minute. Probably just some personal mementoes or something.’
‘Don’t you know? You mean you went all that way purposely to discuss it and then you didn’t discuss it at all?’
‘There wasn’t time . . . well, you know . . . we’d just got around to talking about it in general terms when the fuzz came—anyway what the hell does it matter?’
‘Well if I were you, Kit, I’d mug up a bit on this part and get your facts straight. It could be important.’