The Bloody Wood
Page 15
‘Bobby, are you stating what you believe to be the truth, or simply what you have a notion it’s right and gentlemanlike to accept?’
‘You know the answer to that one, perfectly well.’ Bobby turned to Morrison. ‘I’m right in believing,’ he asked, ‘that drowning is the method of suicide more commonly adopted by women than any other?’
‘No, you are not.’
‘But among my Aunt Grace’s age group it is true?’
‘Yes – in the sense that drowning headed the statistics until not so very long ago.’
‘Men, on the other hand, don’t reject methods involving bloodshed and disfigurement?’
‘That is true. Mr Angrave, you appear curiously in command of the technicalities of this subject.’
‘I’ve been reading the Encyclopaedia Britannica – my uncle’s copy, which is rather an old one. So you must forgive me if I’m a little out of date. My point is that everything has happened–’
‘By the book?’ Appleby asked.
‘You can put it that way. I was going to say, simply, in a perfectly natural manner.’ Bobby paused, and eyed the two elderly men before him. He appeared to determine that he had effected nothing. ‘You must go ahead,’ he said abruptly. ‘You must go ahead, and unearth your pain and scandal. I don’t want to exaggerate, you know. It won’t prove all that awful.’
‘We shall certainly go ahead.’ Morrison spoke stiffly. ‘At the moment, and for a start, we are going into your uncle’s office. I understand that Sir John would like to see the butler, Friary, there. May I ask you to be so very kind as to send him to us?’
‘Very well. And, no doubt, you must follow your own lights. I go on record as thinking it a pity. That’s all.’
Bobby Angrave turned and left the room. Morrison watched him go in silence, and then turned to Appleby.
‘I can’t make that young man out at all. What was he after? Have you any idea?’
‘Well, yes – I think I have. There may come a point at which we have a lurking feeling he was right.’
‘Good God, Appleby! You don’t mean you think we should drop the thing, and let the coroner have his jury bring in their two harmless verdicts?’
‘Far from it. And now we’ll view Charles Martineau’s body.’
‘One can see why he would come straight in here,’ Appleby said, when the body had been covered up again. ‘It would be the natural place from which to telephone for help.’
‘Martineau did just that. He called Fell.’
‘And Fell was at home?’
‘No, but he got back from some call or other fifteen minutes later.’
‘I suppose Fell could walk straight into the house if he wanted to?’
‘I’m sure he could. And it’s a habit busy doctors have.’
‘So while Martineau was in the act of telephoning for Fell, Fell could have walked in here and killed him?’
‘Not a doubt of it.’ Colonel Morrison produced his silk handkerchief again. ‘But I’m not sure he would know about the gun. And I think the gun would have had to be secured beforehand. It was kept, loaded, in the top drawer of that desk.’
‘Locked up there?’
‘Unlocked. It’s amazing what people will do. Martineau doesn’t even appear to have troubled me for a licence for the damned thing.’ Morrison paused broodingly. ‘It doesn’t seem to me likely that Fell would know about it.’
‘I rather agree. But any member of the household might. Friary, for example, is a type who would poke about in drawers. And either of the young people might know.’
‘Yes – but not Mrs Gillingham. Not that that’s relevant.’ Morrison was faintly ironical. ‘She’s supposed only to have eliminated Martineau’s wife, and not Martineau himself as well… Come in.’ There had been a knock at the door. Friary entered. And Appleby tackled him at once.
‘Friary, I suppose you keep a general eye on this room?’
‘Certainly, sir. I have regarded its oversight as a regular part of my duties.’ It couldn’t be said that Friary’s nervous tone was improving; indeed, he had now taken to glancing apprehensively about him. But there was still something faintly contemptuous in his bearing. It emerged, Appleby reflected, in his manner of speech. Friary talked like a stage butler, one had to suppose, because he was inwardly unreconciled to being a real one.
‘Very well. Will you be good enough to tell me whether you notice anything unusual about the room now?’
‘The presence of Mr Martineau’s body might be so described, sir.’
This produced an impatient exclamation from Colonel Morrison, as well it might. But Appleby was unmoved.
‘That, of course, is true. But look about you carefully. Are you aware of anything missing, or anything disarranged?’
Friary obeyed this instruction. He even made a circuit of the small room, giving the dead man under his sheet a wide berth.
‘I am not conscious of anything out of the way, sir.’
‘Thank you. But would you mind looking at the writing table beside the fireplace? It has, I think, fairly recently had a new leather top?’
‘That is so.’
‘Look at the surface. Do you see four very slight circular depressions, which form a square, and are set about a foot apart?’
‘I believe I can just distinguish what you refer to, sir.’
‘Of course you can.’ Appleby’s tone was suddenly sharp. ‘What is it that commonly stands there, and isn’t there now?’
‘I am afraid I cannot say.’ Friary, who had been scrutinizing the leather surface of the table with exaggerated care, looked up with a wooden face. ‘Possibly Mr Martineau’s typewriter.’
‘That is on the desk, and its dimensions are quite different. I am afraid I must press you about this. It can’t you know, really be beyond your recollection.’
There was a moment’s silence. It would have been hard to tell whether Friary was uneasy before the particular point at issue, or whether he was simply ceasing to stand up well to the total situation. He licked his lips.
‘I beg your pardon, sir. You are quite right. It has come back to me. What usually stands there is Mr Martineau’s tape-recorder.’
‘A tape-recorder?’ Morrison, who had been staring gloomily out of the window, turned round and stared at Appleby instead.
‘I see,’ Appleby said. ‘And where is this tape-recorder now?’
‘Undergoing repair, I believe, sir. Mr Martineau mentioned to me a week or two ago that he had taken it into town for that purpose. Presumably he had not picked it up again. And it has certainly not been delivered at Charne.’
‘Do you happen to know where he took it?’
‘Yes, sir. He was specific about it. Curtis and Redpath, in High Street.’
‘Thank you. We needn’t detain you longer now.’
Morrison waited until the door had closed behind Friary.
‘I suppose it’s nonsense,’ he said. ‘But – do you know? – I never hear of a tape-recorder without remembering some mystery story or other. By one of those dashed clever women who concoct such things. Frightfully good. Only, of course, I don’t remember how it was brought in… Sorry.’ Morrison had become aware that Appleby was at the telephone.
The call took only a couple of minutes.
‘Well,’ Appleby said, as he put down the receiver, ‘–you heard that. Just what do you make of it?’
‘You’re sure you were actually speaking to Curtis and Whatever?’
‘Of course I am.’
‘Martineau must have changed his mind. Taken the thing somewhere else.’
‘It’s a possibility, of course. But it doesn’t quite fit with what the fellow in the shop said. Martineau always took his electrical gadgets of all sorts there. He’d done so for years.’
‘Curtis and Redpath sold it to Martineau. You heard me ask about that. They say that, although not bulky, it’s a very high-class instrument. You may laugh at your dashed clever women, Morrison. But there’s almost no limit to the tricks that can be played with such a thing.’
‘And here is Friary telling lies about it.’
‘Telling one more lie – and one more lie very easy to detect, at that.’
‘My dear Appleby – just what are you getting at?’
‘Friary mayn’t have lied to us.’ Appleby spoke slowly. ‘Charles Martineau may have lied to Friary.’
21
Judith had wandered into the wood again. Not far from the belvedere – when she could see, indeed, the flat-capped figure of the constable now guarding it – she ran into Dr Fell. It was a mildly surprising encounter, and Fell himself appeared almost disconcerted. He came to a halt, and looked at Judith uncertainly.
‘Good morning, Dr Fell. Are you going down to the house?’
‘I am going wherever I can find the police, Lady Appleby. If possible, the Chief Constable himself.’
‘He is there, and so is my husband. They are probably still in Mr Martineau’s office.’
‘Thank you.’ Fell made as if to move on again, and then hesitated. ‘It’s a revolting business,’ he said. ‘But action I suppose there must be.’
‘The Martineaus’ death, you mean?’
‘No. That is very sad, of course. I gather it is now thought to be suspicious and sinister, into the bargain. It may well be so. But it wasn’t what I was thinking of. Ugly things are coming to light all over the place, are they not? In a matter of this sort, one scandal shakes up another.’
‘No doubt.’ Judith found this vague and uneasy remark curious. ‘The suggestion of some sort of drug-ring, for example.’
‘You know about that?’ Fell, who had begun to walk on beside Judith, came to a halt. ‘It’s certainly in the picture.’
‘I know about it – and that Bobby Angrave felt it was going to make life awkward for him.’
‘And that I feel the same?’ Fell looked at Judith with a faint smile. ‘You are a very direct person, Lady Appleby.’
‘What’s the good of not being?’
‘What, indeed. Well, I suspect it is true that Angrave had been a good deal more than silly. Something of the sort is sure to emerge, and it may as well be stated now… Is that a policeman by the belvedere?’
‘Yes. Was it there you were expecting to find Colonel Morrison? You were on the path to it, really.’
‘It was in my head.’ Fell produced this in his sudden vague manner. ‘Shall we go on there now? I value having a word with you.’
‘Very well.’ Judith walked on. ‘But you began by saying that something is a revolting business.’
‘The Martineaus’ butler and this village child your husband called me in to see. She’s prepared to name Friary as responsible, and there is evidence that her parents can give as well. So it will come into court. I ought to be hardened to such things, but I don’t seem to be.’
‘Dr Fell, do you think that, as the matter stood yesterday, it would have been rational in Friary to suppose that if the Martineaus were out of the way he would have a chance of not being prosecuted?’
‘Good heavens!’ Fell looked really startled. ‘It’s possible, I suppose. But I didn’t know there was a suspicion of just that sort. For that matter, I doubt whether the fellow Friary would have the guts for it. No – I think I’m a better suspect myself.’
‘I find that a strange thing for anyone actually to say.’
‘I had a meeting, you know, or what might be called a confrontation, with Martineau and his nephew. Over the drugs. Its issue was unsatisfactory, from my point of view.’
‘And from Bobby’s?’
‘Oh, certainly. Martineau penetrated to the fact that Bobby had actually been peddling the stuff, and he remained unconvinced that I wasn’t myself in some way involved.’
‘Were you?’ Judith had decided that this curious conversation had better be gone through with.
‘For what the denial is worth, Lady Appleby, quite definitely not. But – for reasons into which I needn’t enter – if some large scandal blew up in these parts I mightn’t get a fair spin.’
‘We know about that. So really, you feel, you and Bobby Angrave had substantial reason to conspire together to silence the Martineaus?’
‘I hadn’t thought of just that. But I see what you mean. If the Martineaus were both murdered, and if the circumstances were to prove such that there must have been two people on the job, then young Angrave and I would – to put it mildly – be well in the picture.’ Fell, who had produced this quite unemotionally, walked for a moment in silence. ‘But here is the belvedere,’ he said. ‘Do you know, I’ve never had a look inside? Would that constable let us in?’
‘I think he might. He knows me now. We’ll have a try.’
The constable made no objection. He contented himself with accompanying his visitors into the interior of the little building.
‘Colonel Morrison and my husband have already had a good hunt through the place,’ Judith said. ‘We came in together earlier this morning.’
‘Did you discover anything material?’
‘Did I? I’m afraid not – although I always have a feeling there ought to be something a woman’s eye can contribute.’ Judith looked around her. ‘For example, it’s a little dusty, wouldn’t you say? Friary claims to see that it is cleaned, and so forth. But the floor could certainly do with a mop. Look how–’ Judith broke off. ‘Dr Fell, will you move that gardener’s ladder so that it stands just there? With its two feet just on these marks, I mean.’
Fell did as he was told. The constable made an uneasy noise. Then, presumably recalling the exalted station of this lady’s husband, he fell silent again.
‘You see what I mean?’ Judith pointed. ‘It’s the ladder that has been drawn over the floor, and left these tracks.’
‘It looks,’ Fell said, ‘as if somebody had wanted to climb to the top of those cupboards.’
‘You’re quite right. And there might be anything up there, behind those rather elaborate cornices – if that’s what they should be called. I think I’ll go up and see.’ Judith looked at the cupboards more carefully. ‘What’s that cord,’ she asked, ‘running up the side of the far one?’
‘It’s an electric flex, my lady.’ The constable said this, after examination. ‘The telephone, perhaps. But no – it isn’t that.’ He had followed the flex downward, and was now moving a croquet-box away from the skirting-board. ‘It’s simply plugged into a socket down here. It may run to a lamp, I’d say, or it might be a small radiator, that somebody has stored up there.’
‘Well, we’ll see.’ Judith was already climbing. ‘Dr Fell, just steady it, will you? I don’t want to make a fool of myself.’
At this moment the constable came to a somewhat apprehensive attention. Colonel Morrison and Appleby had entered the belvedere. Judith, who had gained the position she wanted, turned round and looked down at them.
‘John,’ she said, ‘I’ve found something up here. You’ll never guess what.’
‘I certainly shall,’ Appleby said. ‘It’s a tape-recorder. Don’t touch it.’
It was half an hour before the tape-recorder was brought down from its place of concealment. It had to be photographed and tested for fingerprints first. At length it stood on a rustic table in front of Appleby.
‘We’ll run it back for a minute, for a start,’ Appleby said, ‘and then see what it offers us.’ He turned a couple of switches on the machine.
Nothing happened. ‘Constable,’ he said, ‘switch it on down there by the skirting-board, will you?’
‘It’s switched on already, sir.’
‘Then there’s something wrong with it. And I doubt whether that makes sense.’ Appleby paused, frowning. ‘What have you got down there?’
‘A plug with its own fuse, sir. It’s on a modern thirteen-amp circuit.’
‘Try that reading-lamp in the corner.’
‘Yes, sir…it works, all right.’
‘Find a screwdriver, or whatever is needed, and change those plugs round.’
‘Very good, sir.’
This operation took five minutes. They were five minutes which added considerably to the tension of the proceedings. Fell, who had remained in the belvedere, paced it moodily. Colonel Morrison eyed him with disfavour, and would plainly have been pleased to order him out. Martine Rivière, who had appeared again, was reduced to sitting close to Judith, nervously twisting a handkerchief.
‘What’s it about?’ Martine almost whispered. ‘What does Sir John expect?’
‘I don’t know. I only know that he knows – and that it’s important.’
‘All in order, sir.’ The constable stood up. ‘You can try again.’
Appleby once more moved the switches. A tiny hum came at once from the machine, followed by the whir of the tape being fed back.
‘That’s all it was,’ Appleby said. ‘The fuse had blown. Careless. Odd.’
‘What’s that, Appleby?’ Morrison had moved forward. But Appleby raised an arresting finger; stopped the tape; set it moving again the opposite direction. And at once they were all listening to voices. They were listening to the voices of Charles and Grace Martineau.
The dialogue continued only for seconds. Appleby had switched off – with a decisive snap, and almost as if closing down upon premature disclosure.
‘There’s a little more to do,’ he said. ‘Not much. We’ll meet – everybody will meet – in half an hour’s time in the music room.’ He smiled rather grimly. ‘It’s the appropriate place.’