'I can almost see the headline,' Tommy put in. "Sober as a Judge."
'I can imagine worse than that,' Timothy said.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
'Right,' Wilkins said, 'having got that little diversion out of the way, let me just run through your combined testimony. Mr Carstairs visited Mrs Clara, stayed about five or ten minutes and then went to his room. Mr Timothy saw him leaving. Some time later, he himself went to her room and put the postcard beside the bed before discovering the body. When leaving, to return to his own room, he saw Mr Carstairs going downstairs. Shortly afterward, he abstracted Mr Carstairs' cufflink from his room, returned to Mrs Clara's room, was alarmed by a sound, threw the cufflink in and hurried back to his room, where he remained. Mr Carstairs, on his way upstairs, saw him, went to Mrs Clara's room himself, saw the body, and after another ten minutes, returned to his own room, when he discovered his cufflink missing. He made his way to the Earl's dressing- room, took all the cufflinks he found there and was about to leave when became aware of Mr Timothy going downstairs. He went to Mr Timothy's room, found the photo, went back to Mrs Clara's room, put the photo in her bag and scattered the cufflinks, before finally returning to his own room. Is that it?'
'Congratulations, Chief Inspector,' said Timothy, 'a remarkably accurate summary of my movements.'
'And of mine,' said Gregory. 'So what does it tell you?'
'It tells me that, rather surprisingly, you're in total agreement. Neither of your accounts contradicts the other's. Only your assumptions differ. Nothing in Mr Timothy's account proves his own innocence or Mr Carstairs' guilt. And vice versa.'
He scratched his head. 'It's all very confusing. I think I'm going to have to move away from what happened in the night, to the following morning. Several quite noteworthy things occurred then, though you are probably not aware of them. The timing of them is important. And I need some help in working that out.' He took a notebook from his pocket and opened it. 'Miss Osborne, you were first down, I think.'
'I believe so.'
'What time would that have been?'
She screwed up her eyes. 'Let me see. A few minutes before seven.'
'And you went immediately and phoned your friend on the Evening News!
'Uh-huh:
'How long did the call take?'
'Well, they were a minute or two finding him, but when he came on I was able to give him the gist of the story in about four minutes.'
'So six minutes would be a fair estimate?'
'I guess so.'
'You didn't hear Miss Dorothy trying the door?'
'No.'
'And afterwards you returned to your room by the back stairs?'
'Yes, it was quicker.'
'And then it would have been five, six, seven minutes past the hour?'
'Around that.'
'Thank you. That's very helpful.' He made a brief entry in his notebook and then turned to Dorothy. 'Miss Dorothy, what time did you come down?'
'Just a minute or two after seven.'
'And you also went straight to the telephone room, found the door locked, returned to the great hall, and told Mr Merryweather about it.'
'Yes.'
'So it would have been about ten past by the time you eventually got through to her?'
'I suppose so.'
'And how long did your call last?'
'Oh, I really couldn't say.'
'Well, let's try to work it out. You told her first, of course, about your stepmother - that she was dead, murdered, almost certainly by one of the guests.'
'Yes.'
'And no doubt she had a number of questions.'
'Yes.'
'Did you mention Mrs Clara's outburst at the will-reading.'
'Just briefly, an outline.'
'So all that would have taken three minutes, at the very least, I should imagine.'
'I should think so.'
'And, naturally, you then told her about your inheritance.'
'Of course.'
'The money and the house, how much it was all worth?'
'Does that seem terribly heartless?'
'Not at all, miss. But it would have taken another minute or two. And then you asked her to come and she said she'd be here as soon as possible.'
'That's right.'
'Does that agree with your recollection, Miss Agatha?'
'Pretty well.'
'So that means we can say the call took a minimum of five minutes, probably longer. Are we agreed on that?'
They both nodded.
'That's very strange,' Wilkins said.
'What do you mean?' Agatha asked.
'Well, according to the telephone people, there were two calls put from here at about that time, both to London. The first one lasted approximately six and a half minutes — Miss Osborne's to the Evening News. The second call lasted precisely eleven seconds. Perhaps you could explain just how you managed to impart all that information in just eleven seconds, Miss Dorothy.'
* * *
The room had been quiet before Wilkins' last question. Suddenly it seemed even quieter, the silence to become almost palpable. It was as though everyone had stopped breathing.
It was Agatha who broke it. 'Oh, must be some mistake.'
'I don't think so, miss. I saw the supervisor, looked at their records. They don't get things like that wrong; and after all, they were bang on as regards Miss Osborne's call. No, the call took only eleven seconds because you already knew everything that had happened. You were here at the time. And you killed your stepmother.'
Chapter Forty
'That's - that's absurd!' Agatha exclaimed. 'Everybody knows I wasn't here. The house was searched from top to bottom.'
'Yes, but Miss Dorothy's room was searched only by her and Lady Geraldine. Lady Geraldine told her father that she looked under the bed, while Miss Dorothy looked in the wardrobe. You were concealed in that wardrobe, as Miss Dorothy knew — and so made sure that only she looked in there. You'd been there since the afternoon. That morning you had ridden to Alderley Village, changed somewhere into a long black dress and a hat with a veil, attended the funeral and come back here with all the other guests. There were no doubt a number of ladies dressed in exactly the same way. You were totally anonymous. Everyone had free time in the afternoon to explore the house. At some stage, Miss Dorothy had whispered to you the location of her room. You simply slipped in there and got in the wardrobe, which is a very capacious one. There you remained — Miss Dorothy no doubt supplying you with refreshment from time to time - until late that night, when you went to your stepmother's room and smothered her. You believed all the other occupants of the house, except for Lady Geraldine and your sister, downstairs, were in bed. You couldn't have known that Miss Mackenzie, Mr Lambert, Mr Carstairs and Mr Timothy were all up and about on their various adventures, and you were amazingly lucky not to have run into any of them, particularly Mr Carstairs or Mr Timothy. After the murder, you returned to the wardrobe. Following the discovery of the body, your sister looked in on you briefly, with Lady Geraldine actually in the room. Later, they both left and then Miss Dorothy returned alone.
'When PC Dobson arrived and the alarm was set off, you were able to leave the room, Miss Dorothy no doubt leading the way, to make sure the coast was clear, go down the back stairs and exit the house by one of the side doors or French windows. You returned to your motor-cycle, changed your clothes again and rode home, arriving probably just in time to take Miss Dorothy's call and almost immediately start on the return journey.'
Agatha regarded him coolly for a few seconds before replying. 'You're a clever little bugger, Wilkins, aren't you? Well, I could deny it all, but I don't suppose it'd do any good in the long run.'
'I must warn you, miss, that—'
'Oh, you can skip all that about anything I say being given in evidence. Yes, it's all true. I set out on my bike on Wednesday morning, shortly after our stepmother and Dorry left by train. I stopped in the woods just outside th
e estate, changed my clobber, and walked to the church. When we got here after the service, I tagged on to a bunch of old girls, none of whom I knew from Adam. Cousin George even came and spoke to us at one time. It was a devilish long wait in that wardrobe. I didn't get out of it until about half past ten. Then I went to the door, opened it an inch and stood waiting, just inside it, with the light off. I had to know when people had gone to bed. Of course, it was far from certain, even then, that I'd be able to go through with it. If people had drifted up to bed, one at a time, over a period of an hour or so, I just wouldn't have had the time. Luckily, everyone except Dorry and Gerry came up in the space of about thirty minutes. I could only go by listening, and couldn't be absolutely sure they were all up. I just waited until it got quite quiet, but it was still quite a risk. Of course, if I'd known how many people were still up and scurrying around I'd never have chanced it. Also, if Gerry had wanted to turn in a bit earlier, I'd have had to scrap the whole thing, because Dorry had to be with her every second until the body was found.
Afterwards, I went straight back to the wardrobe. The armour crashing over was a shock. I couldn't think what it could be. Hadn't anticipated that, of course, but it was lucky in a way, because it meant the body was discovered a bit sooner, so I was able to get out of the house much earlier than otherwise.
'You're absolutely right about what happened afterwards. I have a key, which belonged to Daddy, to the doors in the outer wall of the estate, so that was no problem. I had to go home, because it would have been thoroughly unnatural if I hadn't come here - so there had to be a record of a call put through from here to our house; otherwise, how would I have learnt what had happened? I was just bloody stupid not to have told Dorry to stay on the line a bit longer. Reckon it was my only mistake. And I want to make it absolutely clear that this was entirely my idea and I forced Dorry to help me, blackmailed her, in fact.'
'Blackmailed her?'
'Yes, for her own good. You see, she's got a secret, too. Oh, nothing too terrible, but our stepmother had been using it against her for years, in order to keep Dorry her virtual slave. Just this once, I used it, too. Because I knew that as long as our stepmother was alive, Dorry would never be free. It's ironic that if we'd only known about our stepmother's secret, she could never have treated Dorry as she did: if she'd talked, we could have talked. Grandmamma's money might have made a difference, too, but probably not: Dorry would never have broken away. Which is why I decided to go ahead, even after I learned about the inheritance. Anyway, as I say, I started planning it a long time ago. Oh, and by the way, that threatening phone call Stepmother received: Dorry didn't know it at the time, but it was me on the line.'
'What was the purpose of that?'
'There were two, one quite legitimate. First, I hoped it might scare her into giving up her little game altogether. But, looking ahead, I also thought it might be a good idea to implant the idea that she had an enemy who had threatened her, and have the police officially notified of it. A waste of time, as it turned out: it didn't stop her, and you quickly quashed the idea that she'd been murdered in revenge by one of her victims.'
'So it was part of a long-term plan? Tell me more about that.'
'Stepmother often used to go away and take Dorry with her, both as a sort of messenger and maid, and leave me behind. So when I started thinking about it, I decided the best way would be to follow them on my bike one of these times, do the job and come back. There were several trips when for various reasons it turned out not to be possible. But Grandmamma's funeral was perfect. I remembered a lot about the house from when we came here as kids, and there were pictures and floor plans in the papers at the times of the other crimes, so it was all quite easy to work out. Naturally, I had no intention of coming to the funeral as myself, but when Clara told me I had to stay behind I argued with her, just so she wouldn't think I was up to anything.'
'Now, what about the attack on Lady Geraldine?'
'I'm really sorry about that. I like Gerry. It was purely a spur of the moment thing. I was in Dorry's room, talking, when Gerry came to the door, saying about how she knew who the murderer was and accusing Dorry of knowing as well, and covering up. I was behind the door. I just panicked, snatched up a bronze statuette and hit her. Thought I'd killed her, actually. Should have done a bunk as soon as I knew she was still alive, but that would have meant saying good-bye to the money, so took a gamble.'
'A gamble that she'd die. You hoped she would.'
'No! Just a gamble that she wouldn't remember what had happened. Anyway, that's immaterial now, isn't it? I suppose you'll want me to "accompany you to the station", as they say in books?'
'Both of you.'
Dorothy, who had sat as though frozen and totally expressionless since Wilkins' last question to her, gave a little strangled cry. 'Don't worry, petal,' Agatha said, 'it won't be for long, for you.'
He formally cautioned and put them both under arrest, and he and Leather led them outside, Dorothy sobbing silently.
In the hall, Agatha said: 'Mind if I have my leather jacket? Rather fond of it. It's in the cloaks cupboard.'
Leather went to the cupboard and came back carrying the coat. 'Thanks.' She started to put it on. 'Bit hot for it, today, but easier than carrying it. Oh, must make sure I've got my cheroots.' She put her hand in the pocket. The next moment a small snub-nosed automatic was pointing straight at Wilkins.
Dorothy gave a gasp of horror. 'Aggie!'
Leather took a step towards Agatha. Wilkins said sharply: 'No, Jack,' and he froze.
'Right,' Agatha said calmly, 'let's all go outside. You two stay close together.'
They slowly made their way out onto the gravel forecourt in front of the house. A police car was parked there, a uniformed constable standing near it. He gave a start when he saw what was happening. 'You, over here,' Agatha called.
'Do as she says,' Wilkins told him and he joined them.
Agatha's motor-cycle was standing where she had left it the previous day. She backed towards it, still keeping the pistol trained on Wilkins.
'This is useless, Miss Agatha,' he said. 'You haven't got a chance.'
'Well, I haven't got a chance any other way. And I don't relish the prospect of being hanged.'
'It may not come to that.'
'Oh, just life imprisonment? Not a tempting alternative, thanks all the same. Now, lie down on the ground, all three of you.'
Slowly, they did so. Agatha mounted the motor bike. She looked at Dorothy, who was wringing her hands. 'Aggie, don't do this, please.'
'No choice, petal. Sorry to leave you in the lurch, but you'll be all right. Get a good lawyer, you can afford one now. Put all the blame on Aggie.'
She started the engine, thrust the pistol in her pocket, gave a wave and roared off, sending a shower of gravel into the air.
Wilkins, Leather and the constable scrambled to their feet. Wilkins pointed at Dorothy. 'Keep an eye on her,' he ordered the constable. 'She's under arrest. Come on, Jack.' They ran to the car, Leather jumping behind the wheel.
By the time they had got moving, Agatha was already two hundred yards down the drive and in a few more seconds was out of sight. 'Whew, she's going at a lick,' Leather muttered. 'Still, the gates are closed. She'll have to stop for the lodge-keeper to open them.' He put his foot down hard.
It was about fifteen seconds before they heard the sound of the crash.
Half a minute later, they skidded to a halt near the heavy wrought-iron gates and jumped out. The motor-cycle lay on its side, the front wheel buckled, the handle-bars askew. Agatha lay motionless a few feet from it. The lodge-keeper, Bates, was standing, gazing down at her in absolute horror. He looked up as they approached. 'I — I heard the bike coming and came out to open up. She had to have seen they were closed. But she didn't try to stop. She must have been doing sixty or seventy when she hit them. If I'd been just a bit quicker . . .' He buried his head in his hands.
'It's not your fault,' Wilkins said. 'She
knew what she was doing. Go and phone for an ambulance, there's a good chap.'
'What? Oh, right.' Bates half stumbled into the lodge.
Wilkins knelt down and felt Agatha's pulse. Then he looked up and shook his head.
'Suicide, you think?' Leather asked.
'Yes, she preferred this to the rope. And who can blame her?' He reached into the pocket of Agatha's jacket and drew out the pistol. He got to his feet and put the muzzle of the gun to his head.
'Don't—' Leather began, in alarm.
Wilkins pulled the trigger. There was a barely audible click.
Leather gave a gasp. 'Unloaded, all the time! How did you know?'
Wilkins put his hand into his side pocket, took it out and displayed several small cartridges.
'You took them out?'
'Yes, had a rummage through the pockets of her jacket as soon as I arrived. Just a precaution, really, but after the last case here I certainly wasn't going to arrest anyone without making sure first they weren't armed.'
'So you knew then that Agatha was the murderer?'
'No, no. I thought she was the most likely, but I had no proof. And several of the others had questions to answer, things to explain. Let's say I would have been surprised if it hadn't been Agatha, but not flabbergasted.'
'But when you found the gun in her pocket . . . ?'
'Could have been quite innocent. She was a woman who roamed around on a motor-cycle, on her own. Quite natural if she felt she needed some protection. Daresay she had a permit for it.'
'But we could have stopped her getting away!'
3 The Affair of the Thirty-Nine Cufflinks Page 27