'I know, Jack.'
'You wanted her to make a run for it?'
'She obviously couldn't get far and I thought there was a good chance she'd end it like this. I hate sending someone to the gallows, and I've never sent a woman. Would haunt me always, if I did. Not that I feel sorry for her, mind. Would have done. Clara was a real monster, and killing her seems to have been a totally unselfish crime, done solely for Dorry's sake. But the attack on Geraldine changed everything. Agatha Saunders was a dangerous woman and if she'd got away with this one, killing would always have been an option for her when anyone posed any kind of threat, or even inconvenience, eventually. So it's better she's gone like this.' He reloaded the automatic. 'Not a word about this, eh?'
'No, of course not.'
Wilkins put the gun in his pocket. 'Now we've got to go and tell Dorry.'
* * *
'I should never have gone along with it,' Dorothy said tearfully. 'It was very, very wrong of me. But Aggie was always so forceful. It was all her doing, really. She planned every bit of it. And I am weak. I've always found it easier just to do as I'm told. And I suppose even up to the last minute I didn't really believe in my heart that she would go through with it. When I opened Mother's door that night and saw her lying dead, it was terrible. But, of course, it was too late, then. I had to protect Aggie. But I swear I never, never knew she was going to hit Gerry. That was the most awful shock. So although I don't know what I'll do without Aggie, I am glad in a way it's ended as it has. Though I suppose I'll have to go to prison. But, it won't be for long, will it?'
'That's not for me to say, miss.'
'Oh dear, I don't think I could stand it for very long. You want me to come with you, now?'
'Go with Sergeant Leather, miss. I've got a few things to clear up here. Send a car for me, Jack.' Leather gave a nod.
'Do we have to go past the - the crash?' Dorothy asked.
Leather shook his head. 'No, miss, there's a track that leads to the Home Farm and then out onto the road. You'll be taking that route.'
'Thank you.'
Wilkins watched silently as Leather led Dorothy to the car, put her inside and got in next to her. The car moved off. Wilkins watched until it was out of sight, then turned and went back indoors. Merryweather was still standing outside the drawing-room.
'Are they all still in there?'
'Yes, Mr Wilkins. I did not know whether you had finished with them, so I took the liberty of saying you wished them to remain for the time being. I hope that was correct.'
'Yes, thank you. I must tell them what's happened.'
He opened the door and went in.
* * *
Five minutes later, Wilkins said: 'So the case is closed, and you are ail free to go. You'll be pleased to know I've decided not to bring any charges of obstructing the police, concealing evidence, or anything of that nature.'
'I for one am very grateful, Chief Inspector,' said Timothy. 'And I would like once again to tender my apologies for my behaviour.'
A quiet murmur of assent went round the room.
'What about me?' Julie asked.
'I won't be detaining you, miss, but I'm putting you on your honour not to leave your present address in London. No doubt you'll be hearing from the Metropolitan Police in due course.'
'Of course. Thank you.'
'One more thing I want to say to you all. A lot of secrets came to light in this room earlier. Nobody will hear about them from me or Jack Leather. And I think you'll all be wise to bear in mind that if one secret leaks out, others are likely to, as well. So I suggest you keep your traps shut.'
The doors behind him burst open and the Earl came rushing in. His face was an expression of pure joy. Merryweather, his face wreathed in smiles, was just behind him. 'She's come round!' the Earl positively shouted. 'Gerry's come round!'
Chapter Forty-One
Wilkins said, 'Oh, my lord, that's wonderful news.
'Timothy said: 'Splendid, splendid.'
Gregory said: 'Attagirl!'
Tommy said: 'Absolutely ripping!'
Julie said: 'Oh, that's swell.'
Penny said: 'How lovely!'
Miss Mackenzie said: 'Praise the Lord!'
'Thank you, thank you, all. She just suddenly opened her eyes, saw her mother, said, 'Hello, Mummy, what time is it?' and went straight back to sleep. But she was breathing normally, after that. Ingleby arrived a few minutes later. He's left some tablets for her but he says he thinks she'll be fine.' He looked round. 'Where are Agatha and Dorothy? I must tell them.'
'There's something you need to know, my lord,' said Wilkins.
* * *
Having brought the Earl up to date and said his good-byes, Wilkins left the room. He found Gregory waiting for him. The MP was looking a little embarrassed. 'Oh, Wilkins, just wanted to congratulate you. Terrible business, really tragic. But you handled it superbly. And thanks for what you said about everybody keeping quiet about anything that came out. Save me a bit of embarrassment, I must admit. Actually, I've realised the young lady's not much more than a gold-digger, so I'll be severing my connection with her - if I can just think of a way without putting her back up, which might be tricky.'
'I don't see why it should be, sir.'
'Er, how d'you mean?'
'Well, if she's a gold-digger, no doubt she believes you're very well off. You need to disabuse her of that belief.'
'Easier said than done. Only last week, she asked me if I was hard up, and I assured her I wasn't.'
'Why did you do that? Would have seemed an obvious way out.'
'I know. Pride, I suppose. Anyway, she'll never believe me if I plead poverty now.'
'Then you've got to convince her.'
'Yes, but how?' He seemed to be hanging on Wilkins' words.
'Well, I've never been in such a situation, but if I were you I should leave a bill unpaid.'
'I'm sorry, I don't . . .'
'A small bill, from some big company or organisation, who won't miss it. Ignore all their follow up demands, until they write threatening legal action, or better still, until you actually get a summons. Pay it immediately then - apologise, urgent constituency business, family bereavement, etc. But keep the letter. Take it with you next time you visit the young woman, and leave it somewhere about the flat, where it could have fallen from your pocket. When she finds it and sees you're being sued a few pounds, you won't have to convince her you're hard up. She'll either confront you, when you can admit it, or more likely you'll find she'll be severing her connection with you pretty quickly.'
'Wilkins, that's brilliant! I'll do it. Thanks very much. Anyway, must go and pack. Good-bye.'
He shook hands hurriedly and ran up the stairs. Wilkins looked after him. If Leather had been here, he thought, he'd have asked why his chief had bothered to help get Gregory Carstairs off the hook. But you never knew when it might be useful to have an MP in your debt.
Wilkins noticed that Timothy and Julie were standing in the porch, chatting quietly. 'Nor a KC, if it comes to that,' he said under his breath, and went over to them. 'Miss Osborne, I'll make a bargain with you.'
'What's that?'
'Give me your word that first thing next week you will go to Scotland Yard and confess to having entered the country illegally, and I'll forget to include it in my report to my Chief Constable. It should help.'
Her face lit up. 'Oh yes, of course I promise. That's terrific. I don't know how to thank you.'
'You have my word, too, Wilkins,' Timothy said. 'I'll go with her. It's much appreciated.'
'Mr Wilkins,' Julie said. 'Do explain one thing. Why did you question me so about my call to the Evening News? I've been racking my brains to think why it was important.'
'It wasn't important. I did it to get the Misses Saunders off guard. If I'd just turned on them suddenly and started asking about their conversation, they'd have certainly realised I was on to something. And it only needed them to say that Dorry had just gabbled
out a few words and then rung off, and I'd have been sunk, because I didn't have a bit of concrete evidence. But as I questioned you first, they weren't wary when I started on them. It seemed simply routine. Also, it gave the impression that I didn't know how long your call had lasted, so it didn't occur to them that I'd know how long they had talked.'
'I see. Gee, there's an awful lot to this detective business, isn't there? Tell me, when did you first suspect I wasn't really Stella?'
'From the start it occurred to me that your speech was almost totally American in vocabulary, phraseology and accent. Granted Stella Simmons had lived in New York for nearly eleven years and would obviously have picked up many Americanisms, but I couldn't think she'd have lost all her Britishness. I also noticed that when we talked, you used the words "When I came to" - and then changed it to "When I came home". I guessed what you'd been about to say was "When I came to England". I think the clincher was when you referred to the Westshire "Police Department", rather than "Police Force" or "Constabulary". Yesterday I went to the village in Worcestershire, where Stella had been brought up - I got the name of it from the Earl - and saw the local doctor, who's been in practice there for over twenty years. He remembers the family well. I was still puzzled by the business of the toothpaste, though I thought it must be something to do with proving or disproving your authenticity. When I asked the doctor about Stella's teeth, he told me they'd all been extracted when she was in her teens. He recalled it clearly, because she had been so upset. Then everything fell into place.'
'You could have accused me outright of being an impostor on the terrace yesterday. I might have admitted it.'
'Or you might have denied it, and it could have taken weeks or months to prove it either way. Until I had the doctor's testimony - and for all I knew, he might have been dead - there'd have been only Mr Lambert's word that Stella had ever had her teeth extracted; it would be virtually impossible to find the dentist who had done it after all this time. No, I wanted to get all the business of the toothpaste and the postcard and the cufflinks and the armour out of the way at the start. Besides, it's a bit of an idiosyncrasy of mine that I like to find things out for myself, rather than being told them. It gets on Jack's nerves sometimes.'
'I bet you're a dab hand at crossword puzzles, aren't you?'
'I must admit it gets the day off to a good start if I can complete The Times one over breakfast.'
Timothy blinked. 'You finish it - over breakfast?'
'Not always, sir. Only mostly. Well, I'd better go out and wait for my car. Hope if we meet again it's under pleasanter circumstances. Good-bye.'
He strolled out into the sunlight. He found Penny already there, staring thoughtfully out over the park, and went across to her. 'Leaving now, miss?'
'Yes, there's a train at two thirty. Hawkins is taking us. He thinks he can squeeze us all in.'
'Your father and Mr Carstairs won't like that very much.'
She smiled absently.
'Answer me a question, Miss Saunders, or two actually.'
'What?'
'Why did you arrange to have that photo taken of your father?'
Penny went crimson. 'I - I didn't - what - how?'
'How did I know? Well, as Miss Osborne pointed out, the picture was so bland. Anyone really wanting to damage him would have made it a lot more compromising. No blackmail demand followed it. Then again, someone, probably two people, brought him home and put him to bed. Your father seems to have imagined he got home under his own steam, but that's very unlikely. It was obviously the early hours of the morning. And you can't draw up in a car or taxi, let yourself into a house, carry an unconscious man upstairs, undress him and put him to bed without making a fair bit of noise. You said you're a very light sleeper; so why didn't you, in the room next to his, wake up? Also, when I was showing the picture round earlier you kept your head down and looked thoroughly unhappy and didn't ask to see the picture, even after Miss Osborne said it was quite innocuous. That confirmed my earlier suspicion that you'd seen it before.'
Penny gave a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of her soul. 'I never intended to blackmail him, of course. He wasn't even supposed to see the picture. The silly chumps were just supposed to give it to me. Only they couldn't resist sending him a print. I was mad with them.'
'One of the silly chumps being Mr Lambert?'
'Crumbs, no. He knew nothing about it. It was a couple of young lawyers, who loved the idea of playing a trick on a top KC. When I suggested it to them, they jumped at it. There wasn't supposed to be a girl in the picture, though. That was their idea. And I didn't know they were going to drug him. They're keen photographers, and I simply asked if they could fake a picture that made him look drunk. That was all.'
'And what was your reason?'
'To have a sort of bargaining counter, to keep by me. He's so strict. And he disapproves of Tommy and he'll never agree to my marrying him. I just wanted something I could use if it really came to a deadlock. But it was a stupid idea, and I'd never have gone through with it. I've destroyed the negative already. And I'd no idea he'd been worrying about it, all these weeks. I thought he would have just thrown the photo in the waste-paper basket and forgotten about it. I've been feeling awful for the last hour. And he's sure to go on worrying.'
'Then let's see if I can put his mind at rest. Tell you what, I'll write to him in a week or two, saying I've discovered who was responsible, that I cannot give him the name, but that the negative and all the prints have been destroyed and I guarantee he'll hear no more about it.'
'Oh, that's wonderful! He'll think you tracked down the criminal and somehow frightened him off. He'll be awfully grateful.'
'Oh yes, I suppose he will.'
'But why aren't you going to tell him it was me?'
'I feel very kindly disposed towards you, Miss Saunders. Apart from Miss Mackenzie, you're the only one of the guests who didn't tell me a single lie.'
'Really? Oo, I must tell Daddy that.'
'And I suggest you think of some other way of persuading him to be a bit less strict.'
'Well, actually, I've got high hopes of Julie. He seems really keen on her, and he doesn't mind she's not Stella. We're good chums already and I think she'll soften him up.'
'I hope you're right, and I wish you every happiness. By the way, I didn't know you and Mr Lambert wanted to get married.'
'No, Tommy doesn't know yet, either. But he will soon. Oh, what was the other thing you wanted to ask?'
'Just why you pretend to be the typical dumb blonde of fiction and the films, when in your own way you're obviously a very smart young lady.'
'Well, Tommy'd never marry anyone cleverer than himself. And though he's absolutely adorable, he hasn't got the world's greatest brainbox. So I've got to be pretty dumb, for the time being.'
At that moment, the adorable one emerged from the house, carrying a small overnight bag, just as a police car rolled up.
'My transport,' Wilkins said. 'Back to the station and a lot of paperwork, I'm afraid. Well, good luck, Miss Saunders.'
'Thank you for everything, Mr Wilkins. You were wonderful.' She stepped forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
Wilkins reddened a little, gave an awkward little bow and hurried to the car. Penny waved as it moved off.
Tommy came across to her. 'New boyfriend, Penny?'
'Oh, he's sweet, Tommy, don't you think?'
'Well, not exactly the word I'd use, not after the way he put me through it.'
'It was your own fault, you silly boy, telling all those fibs about playing a practical joke on Miss Mackenzie and pulling down the armour.'
'I know. But everything's OK now. I've apologised to Gregory for what I said and he's promised not to sue me for slander. And I've thought of an absolutely spiffing idea for a company. It'll be called Get Your Own Back, Ltd. It's really up my street. What happens is that if anyone's had an absolutely rotten deal from somebody, their boss, say, or a boyfriend or a girlfrie
nd, they come to me and I pull a prank on the culprit, just like I did to the Hodges. Then if the client's happy, he or she pays me: ten, twenty quid, perhaps even fifty for a really super wheeze. He's got to pay, because he knows that if he doesn't I'll do the same sort of thing to him. Of course, I'd have to make absolutely sure first that the client is in the right. And I wouldn't do anything to really hurt anybody, just give 'em a very uncomfortable and embarrassing time. It really fits my talents. What d'you think?'
'Tommy, it's terrific. It could really work.'
'And I wouldn't need much capital to get started. It'd hardly eat into my fifteen hundred quid at all.'
'Don't you mean fourteen hundred and fifty three?'
'Oh. You guessed. Forty-seven?'
'Mm. Is it a bookie?'
'Yes. I put fifty quid, which I didn't have - over the phone - on this absolute cert. It came in fourth. I've been horribly worried. But it's all right, you needn't lecture me. I've learnt my lesson.'
'Good.'
'So we're in business?'
'Well, I'm sorry, Tommy, but I really don't think I can be the Managing Director.'
Tommy hid his relief. 'That's OK. Be a - a consultant. That's it. All you'll have to do is just keep your eyes and ears open and when you hear anybody moaning about how badly someone's treated them, just point them in my direction. I'll pay you commission. Then when I come up with a wheeze I'll run through it with you and you can tell me if there are any flaws, or suggest refinements, and so on.'
'Oh, that sounds perfect.'
'Topping! I'll put your name on the letter heading. I'll even get you some cards, 'GET YOUR OWN BACK, LTD. Miss Penelope Saunders, Special Consultant.' '
'Special Consultant? Oo, that's even better. Tommy, this is so exciting.'
'I think I can come up with a better name.'
They turned round. It was Julie, who had approached, unheard.
'What's that?' Tommy asked.
3 The Affair of the Thirty-Nine Cufflinks Page 28