by John Creasey
Roger felt sick.
“It did occur to us,” Chatworth said, heavily.
“I am afraid it is true, too.” Raeburn stood up and began to pace the room. “There is another thing. Tenby accused me of luring him to Aldgate the other evening, so that he would be framed – I quote him – for the attack on the policeman Peel. I accused Warrender of this. He denied it, of course, but there was no doubt that Warrender was gravely troubled by Tenby’s visit, and by my suspicions. Mrs Beesley, Mr Melville, and I were talking about it most of the night.”
Melville, with a good counsel, could convince any jury of this story. Raeburn was actually giving a preview of his defence.
Now he thought it wise to seem on edge.
“You must try to understand the distress which I felt,” he went on, earnestly. “I had no proof, only suspicion, and Warrender tried to convince me that those suspicions were baseless.”
“What made you come here now?” Roger forced himself to ask.
“Mrs Beesley telephoned me only a little while ago, and told me that Warrender had left the flat by the fire escape, last night, although I had ordered him to stay there until I returned.” So Raeburn was going to pretend that he did not know of Warrender’s arrest. “Mrs Beesley is a very shrewd woman, as no doubt you know, and she had been keeping a watchful eye on him for some time. She found a slip of paper in his coat last night – yes, she entered his room, and searched his pockets while he was asleep. The note makes it clear that Warrender and Tenby were planning this blackmail together. Would you like to know my final conclusions, gentlemen?”
“Very much,” said Roger, heavily.
“I think that Warrender has been using my name and my companies as a cover for extensive criminal operations.” Raeburn stood in front of Chatworth; his eyes were flashing, a most plausible imitation of a man in great distress. “I think that I have been completely deceived by a very clever rogue. Mrs Beesley suspected this some time ago, but wanted to be sure before she spoke. It seems evident that Warrender has reason to fear that his activities would be discovered. He was afraid that, if I were convicted of manslaughter, the police would investigate my affairs and, necessarily, his. I think he created a situation which eventually grew too big for him, and in desperation resorted to murder, and to hiring dangerous criminals to cover his tracks.
“You will ask what grounds I have for these suspicions. I can only say –” Raeburn hesitated, and then threw up his hands. “I can only say that the facts are clear to me now that I have been through my books. Warrender has been robbing me of huge sums. He had access to my banking accounts, and you will find that the figures speak for themselves. I know that I was wrong to trust him, but that is not the point now. I did trust him.” Raeburn spoke as if he were righteousness itself. “Gentlemen, I want you to make the fullest inquiry into my affairs wherever Warrender has been connected with them. I want the whole truth to come out. No matter how hurtful, I will face it. Warrender’s departure from the flat seems to me an admission of guilt. I want you to find him, too; he may have made plans to leave the country.”
“That’s possible,” Chatworth grunted, as if he had to make some contribution.
“I can only hope you will get results quickly,” Raeburn went on, briskly. “I really cannot carry on working until everything is known.” He put his hand into his pocket, drew out a key case, and dropped it on to the desk. “These are the keys to my safe at the flat, and to my strong room at the company offices. You may examine everything at your leisure. No doubt you expect Warrender to try to wriggle out of this, and no doubt he will try to smear me with his own dirt, but – “
“Mr Raeburn,” Roger interrupted, in a deceptively quiet voice, “this isn’t going to work out quite as you expected. There’s something I don’t think you know. Warrender failed to kill your wife. He is now under arrest, charged with attempted murder. Your wife –”
Raeburn put out a hand on a chair to steady himself.
“You mean he tried to murder Eve?” he cried. “He wanted to kill her to stop her from saying anything that might harm him. She – she isn’t hurt?” He jumped forward, gripping Roger’s arm. “Tell me that she isn’t hurt.”
Did he really think he could get away with all this? Could he?
A telephone bell rang on Chatworth’s desk, breaking the tension. Chatworth picked up the instrument, growled: “Chatworth,” and then actually gasped. “No!” Roger was watching Raeburn, and saw the momentary glint of triumph in his eyes.
Chatworth barked: “Who’d seen him? . . . Melville? ... Yes, I see.” He rang off, and stared at Roger who was at screaming pitch.
“No doubt you expected this, Mr Raeburn,” he said. “Your solicitor visited Warrender in his cell. After he had left, Warrender died of potassium of cyanide poisoning. It appears to have been contained in a false heel of his shoe.”
“Why, that is terrible,” Raeburn said, and it sounded like a song of triumph.
“Whether Melville got the cyanide to him, whether it was murder or suicide, I don’t think we’ll ever know,” Roger said, bleakly. “I do know that Raeburn’s story will stand up in court, now. We still can’t charge him.”
That afternoon, Joe volunteered a statement. In it Warrender was shown as the man who had hired him to commit all his crimes – against Katie Brown and against Brown himself.
Their only remaining hopes were Tenby and Eve. Whatever Eve knew, she could not be forced into the witness box; so Tenby, still at Reading, was the one hope.
That afternoon, Tenby was rushed to the Royal Berkshire Hospital, but died before he got there – of morphine poisoning.
25: THE TRUTH ABOUT JOE
Get me Reading Police Headquarters,” Roger ordered, soon after he heard of Tenby’s death, and put the receiver down. “I think I’ve got a line, sir,” he said to Chatworth, very quietly. “Tenby came out of Raeburn’s flat carrying a box of chocolates, and I always thought that was odd, I’ll ask Reading to find that box; it’s probably at the cottage. If the post-mortem shows chocolate and morphine in the stomach, we can act.”
“You’d still have to prove that Raeburn poisoned them.” “Even proving he bought or could have touched them will be a help. He might have fingered the box, too; and one fragmentary print on one chocolate would do the trick. We know he’s our man; all we need is a break to push him over.”
The telephone bell rang.
“Excuse me, sir . . . Oh, yes, Turnbull.”
Roger listened to Turnbull, who was obviously in one of his rare moments of excitement.
“Now I’ve got something for you,” he said. “I’ve traced Ma Beesley’s eldest son.” There was a long pause and Roger could have shouted at him. “A gentleman named Joe,” he finished, gloatingly.
“Joe!”
“Joe,” Turnbull crowed. “He deserted from the Army, and has been dodging about the East End for years. And I’ve got something even better.”
“You couldn’t have.”
“Couldn’t I? This Joe’s been in touch with Ma Beesley – a landlady at the house he stayed at described her to a T. They’ve met within the last month.”
“I’m going to see Joe, right away,” said Roger, softly. “And pray for results from the p.m. on Tenby.”
The post-mortem report came through an hour later: Roger read it with increasing excitement. There was chocolate in Tenby’s stomach, with a strong concentration of morphine.
The box of chocolates had been found in his luggage, and each chocolate analysed; several contained morphine which had been injected into them.
“Get every chocolate tested for prints,” urged Roger. “Get every one photographed and blown up; we’ve got to get a fingerprint.”
Raeburn stayed in Reading until Eve was taken away from The King’s Arms by the police. On the return journey he looked very grave, and when he reached Park Lane, he found newspapermen and photographers waiting. After he had faced the battery of flashlights, and been asked for an i
nterview, he shook his head slowly.
“I’m sorry, boys. This has been a gruelling time for me, and I’d rather not say anything just now.” He resisted all their pressure, waved his hat, gave rather a melancholy smile, and went up in the lift.
Ma Beesley opened the door of the flat.
“Welcome back, Paul,” she said, and stood aside for him to pass. She showed her ugly teeth in a grin as she closed the door. “Maud’s out,” she went on, “so we’re here on our own. Everything’s all right, then?”
The grave look had vanished from Raeburn’s face. He was grinning, and with almost boyish glee took her face between his hands, and kissed her soundly. “Everything’s fine, Ma! We’re going to get away with it, thanks to you and Abel.”
“Abel’s decided not to come and see us for a day or two,” Ma told him, and watched him very carefully. “There’s only one thing I don’t get, Paul. How did you manage to kill Tenby?”
“He was too fond of chocolates,” Raeburn gloated. “I gave him a big box before he left here, with doped ones in the bottom layer. I knew he wouldn’t eat them until he got to the cottage.”
Ma said: “Very smart, I agree, but supposing he’d eaten the doped ones too soon?”
“Would it really have mattered?” asked Raeburn. “The police would have felt sure he was murdered; now they think it was suicide – that’s the only difference. I wanted him dead, and wanted Warrender to attack Eve. He was close on her heels, and even if she’d found Tenby dead, Warrender would have gone in to kill her; the police were bound to be at hand to catch him red-handed – as they did.”
“Supposing he had killed her, Paul?”
“As you’d telephoned West and warned him to watch Eve, I didn’t think there was much risk,” said Raeburn, carelessly. “If he had – “he shrugged. “Oh, forget it. You’ve done magnificently, Ma, a lot of credit’s due to you.”
“I even managed to convince you that Eve is loyal,” said Ma, “and I let poor George think I agreed with him about killing her. But you thought the whole thing out, Paul, I have to admit that. Did you have it in mind when you ran over Halliwell?”
“Oh, not as far back as that,” Raeburn admitted. “It was when I was in the dock, realizing that it might catch up with me sometime, that I began to plan a way out. The obvious thing was to put the blame on George. Only you and Tenby could have disproved it, and I knew I could rely on you.”
“I’ve never really liked George,” Ma wheezed.
Raeburn was looking dreamily at the door. “Yes, it all began while I was in the dock. I wonder what West would say to that! It was a remark you made about your son Joe being on the run from the Army authorities which gave me the idea of letting him do some work that Tenby would be blamed for, too. Obviously, that would sow suspicion between Tenby and George – and be the real beginning. The details worked themselves out as we went along. When Tenby murdered Tony Brown, I could see that it was coming along nicely. Bill Brown nearly upset the applecart, but you and Joe were equal to the occasion, Ma! By going after Bill Brown, letting himself be caught, and naming Warrender on the day agreed, Joe put the finishing touch to everything. And you did remarkably well when you interviewed Eve; you certainly proved her loyalty. I had to be quite sure of that.”
“Such a lovely girl,” cooed Ma.
“And how that interview confused West,” Raeburn exulted. “Well, it’s all over, Ma, and now I can concentrate on politics. When the police go into the accounts –”
“They’ll find I’ve cooked them beautifully,” crowed Ma. “I’ve made them look as if that wicked George has been fleecing you right and left.”
Raeburn chuckled, delightedly. “And under his very nose! But getting Joe to agree to serve a long sentence was the deciding factor, Ma. I won’t forget it.”
“I’m sure you won’t,” said Ma. “And you won’t forget the fifty thousand pounds you’re going to put aside for him when he comes out, will you? But don’t worry about that now, Paul, you must be tired. Shall I get you a drink?”
“Get us a drink!”
The front doorbell rang on Raeburn’s words.
“Now I wonder who that is,” said Ma. “I’ll go.”
She hurried to the door, with Raeburn smiling at her back.
His smile faded suddenly when Ma opened the door, and he saw West and Turnbull, with another plain clothes man, standing massively outside.
“Good afternoon, Ma,” greeted Roger, and pushed past her into the hall. “Good afternoon, Mr Raeburn.”
“What is it now?” Raeburn was sharp.
“We’ve come for you,” Roger said, quietly. “Ma’s son, Joe, couldn’t keep as silent as he meant to; the fact that he was making himself an accessory to Halliwell’s murder made him speak. That’s put Ma in a nasty spot. In the second place, you weren’t careful enough with Tenby’s chocolates. We found a print on a poisoned one from your left index finger. In the third –”
“You’re lying!” cried Raeburn, and he went deathly white.
“And in the third place, Eve has also talked,” finished Roger, “so we’ve got you for Halliwell’s murder. I convinced her that Warrender went to kill her with your knowledge, and she didn’t think much of it. Don’t make a fuss,” he went on, sardonically, “you’ll get your picture in the Cry, and probably the readers will write to you in jail.”
When Roger got home that night, Janet, the boys, and Mark were all waiting, eager to talk.
“I always knew you’d win,” Richard crowed.
“It was pretty obvious, wasn’t it?” Scoopy declared “Good old pop!”
Series Information
Published or to be published by
House of Stratus
Dates given are those of first publication
Inspector West Series
These Titles can be read as a series, or randomly as standalone novels
Title Also Published as:
1 Inspector West Takes Charge 1942
2 Go Away to Murder Inspector West Leaves Town 1943
3 An Apostle of Gloom Inspector West at Home 1944
4 Inspector West Regrets 1945
5 Holiday for Inspector West 1946
6 Battle for Inspector West 1948
7 The Case Against Paul Raeburn Triumph for Inspector West 1948
8 Inspector West Kicks Off Sport for Inspector West 1949
9 Inspector West Alone 1950
10 Inspector West Cries Wolf The Creepers 1950
11 The Figure in the Dusk A Case for Inspector West 1951
12 The Dissemblers Puzzle for Inspector West 1951
13 The Case of the Acid Throwers The Blind Spot; Inspector West at Bay 1952
14 Give a Man a Gun A Gun for Inspector West 1953
15 Send Inspector West 1953
16 So Young, So Cold, So Fair A Beauty for Inspector West; The Beauty Queen Killer 1954
17 Murder Makes Haste Inspector West Makes Haste; The Gelignite Gang; Night of the Watchman 1955
18 Murder: One, Two, Three Two for Inspector West 1955
19 Death of a Postman Parcels for Inspector West 1956
20 Death of an Assassin A Prince for Inspector West 1956
21 Hit and Run Accident for Inspector West 1957
22 The Trouble at Saxby’s Find Inspector West; Doorway to Death 1957
23 Murder, London - New York 1958
24 Strike for Death The Killing Strike 1958
25 Death of a Racehorse 1959
26 The Case of the Innocent Victims 1959
27 Murder on the Line 1960
28 Death in Cold Print 1961
29 The Scene of the Crime 1961
30 Policeman’s Dread 1962
31 Hang the Little Man 1963
32 Look Three Ways at Murder 1964
33 Murder, London - Australia 1965
34 Murder, London - South Africa 1966
35 The Executioners 1967
36 So Young to Burn 1968
37 Murder, London - Mi
ami 1969
38 A Part for a Policeman 1970
39 Alibi for Inspector West 1971
40 A Splinter of Glass 1972
41 The Theft of Magna Carta 1973
42 The Extortioners 1974
43 A Sharp Rise in Crime 1978
Other Series by John Creasey
Published by House of Stratus
‘Department ‘Z’’ (28 titles)
‘Dr. Palfrey Novels’ (34 titles)
‘Inspector West’ (43 titles)
‘Sexton Blake’ (5 titles)
‘The Baron’ (47 titles) (writing as Anthony Morton)
‘The Toff’ (59 titles)
along with:
The Masters of Bow Street
This epic novel embraces the story of the Bow Street Runners and the Marine Police, forerunners of the modern police force, who were founded by novelist Henry Fielding in 1748. They were the earliest detective force operating from the courts to enforce the decisions of magistrates. John Creasey’s account also gives a fascinating insight into family life of the time and the struggle between crime and justice, and ends with the establishment of the Metropolitan Police after the passing of Peel’s Act in 1829.
Select Synopses
Gideon’s Day
Gideon’s day is a busy one. He balances family commitments with solving a series of seemingly unrelated crimes from which a plot nonetheless evolves and a mystery is solved. One of the most senior officers within Scotland Yard, George Gideon’s crime solving abilities are in the finest traditions of London’s world famous police headquarters. His analytical brain and sense of fairness is respected by colleagues and villains alike.
Meet the Baron
John Mannering (The Baron) makes his first appearance in this volume. Lord Fauntley cannot help showing off both his daughter and the security under which his precious jewels are kept. Mannering finds himself attracted to both .... Money is tight and so he plans a burglary, but this fails and unexpected consequnces result. The relationship with Lorna Fauntley flourishes, and a series of high profile thefts and adventures ensure Mannering’s future, so he believes, until Lorna equates him with The Baron. One of the many further twists in this award winning novel occurs when the police appear to seek Mannering’s help, only to have everything turned upside down as the plot develops . . .