Black Eye (A Johnny Black Mystery)

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Black Eye (A Johnny Black Mystery) Page 16

by Neville Steed


  ‘I believed. The car’s name wouldn’t have been Frazer-Nash, would it?’

  His eyes brightened. ‘Yes, that’s it. Frazer-Nash. I remember I made a joke about the double-barrelled name. That you must be paying three hundred odd for the Frazer and three hundred odd for the Nash.’

  I sighed. For now I was even more worried about what might have happened to Henry Swindon. ‘You don’t know why he wanted the catalogue, do you?’

  The actor shrugged.

  ‘Search me. I even asked him that myself, considering he can’t even afford to buy a single wheel for that kind of car, let alone the whole shebang.’

  ‘And what did he say?’

  ‘Something about, “there’s no harm in dreaming, is there?” And ... er, oh yes, “you never know when your ship’s going to come in”.’

  I got up from my stool and wearily reached for my jacket. For now I had a distinct feeling that Henry’s ship might well have belonged to Daphne Phipps — and could have sunk with all hands.

  *

  Saturday morning saw me in Ashburton good and early. When I rang her, Diana Travers didn’t seem to mind the hour and immediately saw the need for some urgency.

  She looked considerably less composed than usual, when I arrived. Though immaculately dressed in cream slacks and a polka-dot blouse, her face betrayed her worry and her fingers trembled slightly as she fitted the inevitable Sobranie into her holder.

  I quickly brought her up to date with my enquiries, amplifying on the sketchy outline I had given her over the phone. She remained silent for a moment after I had finished, then said quietly, ‘Johnny, I think we should call the whole thing off. It was a mistake my involving you at all in this —’

  ‘Nonsense,’ I cut in. ‘Why are you saying that now, just as we are starting to learn something?’

  ‘Learn what, Johnny? We’ve learnt nothing. All we really know is that two people you have been interviewing have gone missing for some reason. We can’t even connect them with Seagrave or the pilot or anything.’

  I stood up.

  ‘Look, Diana, you’re not proposing to drop the whole thing because we’re not making progress, but because we are. You’re just afraid of what we might be uncovering right now and afraid —’

  ‘All right, so I am,’ she snapped. ‘So what? Do you think I want to see you or anybody put at risk by continuing this investigation. Don’t you see, Johnny, that if our worst suspicions are correct, were not just up against a man who may have covered up killing his wife — who knows, he may have strangled my sister in a fit of rage on the spur of the moment — but a man who is capable of planning and carrying out wholesale murders of anyone who gets in his way. What’s more, it looks almost certain he’s not acting alone. That fellow Dawlish seems to be involved in far more ways than just being his pilot.’

  She too rose from her chair and went over to the French windows. ‘Where will it end, Johnny? If I had known even half of what I know now, I would never have started it.’ She turned around to face me. ‘Don’t you see, it’s all far too hot for us to handle. Just two people. What we need is —’

  ‘The police,’ I chipped in. ‘If you are afraid of us continuing alone, why don’t we just go to the police and lay our cards on the table. Air our suspicions. Let them take the whole thing over.’

  She came quickly across to me and grasped my arm.

  ‘Please, Johnny, not yet. 1 don’t want the police involved.’

  ‘Why not, Diana?’ I looked her straight in the eyes. ‘Are you holding something back from me?’

  She let go my arm and stubbed her cigarette out in an ashtray. ‘No, Johnny, it’s not that. It’s just that they won’t take any notice of us. We have no proof of anything, anything at all. They might even blow the whole thing by going prematurely to Michael directly and putting our suspicions to him. It wouldn’t be any help to us. Just put us more in his firing line. And him on his guard.’

  ‘But Diana, he knows who I am and it’s pretty obvious what a private eye would be doing. So he’s on his guard already.’

  She took out another Sobranie. ‘Look, Johnny, the time to go to the police is when we have even the tiniest shred of evidence or proof of any of our suspicions, not before. Please believe me.’

  ‘But we won’t get that, if we call the whole thing off. Seagrave will stand a good chance of getting away with —’

  ‘Murder,’ she whispered. ‘But he’s bound to slip up sometime, surely. I mean you can’t hide bodies for ever.’

  I sighed. ‘You can, Diana, if you know where to put them. Like I told you, anchored to the bottom of the English Channel, for instance.’

  ‘You think that’s what has happened to Henry Swindon too?’

  I shrugged. ‘Why not? If it’s worked well for one, it will work for another. Why should Seagrave give up a tried and tested method?’

  She thought for a moment. ‘Because it would mean trusting that pilot fellow twice, wouldn’t it? Michael’s not exactly the trusting type. Also, why should that pilot be sticking his neck out for Seagrave?’

  I rubbed my fingers together. ‘A little thing called money. Seagrave’s got plenty of that now.’

  ‘So you don’t think any bodies will turn up?’

  ‘I doubt it somehow.’ This time I grasped her arm. ‘That’s why we’ve got to go on, Diana, don’t you see? At least until we can go to the police with something concrete. Otherwise, Seagrave, if he’s as guilty as we think he must be, stands a good chance of escaping totally scot-free. And you can hardly want that, Diana, surely? Remember you owe it to your sister to discover the truth.’

  She was silent for a moment, then, to my surprise, threw her arms around my neck. ‘Oh, Johnny, I’m so afraid. For us both. I never guessed it might turn out this way.’ She looked up at me. ‘Michael must be mad, mustn’t he?’

  ‘Not more than mad for money, perhaps. The glint of gold can twist the sanest mind.’

  She rested her head against my shoulder. ‘He might actually like ... killing people,’ she whispered, almost as if to herself.

  ‘What made you say that?’ I asked softly.

  She suddenly moved a little away from me. back to the cigarette box, where she began fumbling for another Sobranie.

  ‘Oh, nothing. Just a thought,’ she smiled weakly. ‘People have been known to enjoy such things, I believe.’

  I sensed further probing would be counterproductive.

  I said, ‘So you agree for me to continue on the case? At least until we turn up something really positive.’

  She lit her cigarette with a trembling hand. ‘I suppose we had better. Otherwise, my sister ...’ She didn’t finish the sentence, but came over and took my hand.

  ‘You will be careful, won’t you, Johnny. If Michael has done away with the girl and the actor, then he won’t be likely to balk at a fourth.’

  This time, I put my arms around her neck.

  ‘Or a fifth, Diana. Now, for goodness’ sake, take extra precautions yourself. Keep your doors locked, whether you are in or out and don’t take unnecessary risks outdoors. Keep your eyes peeled for anything unusual and watch out in case you’re being followed. If you are worried about the slightest thing, come round to me either at the cottage or Black Eye. Or give me a ring.’ Then I added, ‘And don’t forget, living so near the Moor, you’ve more than just Seagrave to worry about now. There’s that escaped convict.’

  She smiled weakly, then stood on tiptoe and kissed me softly on the mouth. She tasted of sugar and spice and all things nice.

  ‘I should have met someone like you long ago,’ she breathed.

  ‘I would have been an impecunious pilot or a penniless actor then,’ I countered, somewhat embarrassed at my pleasant but rather profit less predicament.

  She relaxed against me.

  ‘It was just my luck to meet the wrong penniless actor,’ she said and her sigh had the depth of the deep blue sea.

  *

  From Ashburton, I drove
straight into Torquay. For there was one other person I had promised to keep updated about Daphne Phipps: her friend at the dancing school, Dolly Randan. To save another embarrassing meeting with her German boss, I decided to catch her as she left at lunchtime for her afternoon off.

  To fill in time until twelve thirty, I went into the office. There was no sign of Babs, as she wasn’t really expecting me in, but I could hear the merry clacking of her typewriter up the corridor. But on my desk was a note neatly penned in her roundest of round handwriting.

  ‘10.30 am. A Mr Briggs rang. Says would you ring him back sometime? Cheers, Babs.’

  I was quite glad to have someone to talk to, so I rang him right away. At first, I thought he must be out, for he took ages in answering.

  ‘Sorry, Johnny, had a customer. Took a ruddy hour an’ a half of my time before settling on a Hillman Minx wing for half a crown.’ He laughed. ‘And people think scrap-dealers make a load of money. I ask you.’

  ‘You rang me, Bobby,’ I reminded him.

  ‘Oh, yer, I did, didn’t I? Now don’t get excited, old son. I haven’t come across anything startling. I just thought I might let you know that I’ve found a little bit of evidence that might bear out old Seagrave’s story.’

  My ears perked up. ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘It’s like this, Johnny. The Frazer-Nash is going well enough, but I thought I’d take down the transmission to have a dekko at the wear and tear on the chain, and check on its tension and all that. So I don’t get no problems later. Well, as I was dismantling it, I found a little shred of cloth caught in a couple of the links. Seems like a woollen material of some kind, but it’s so covered in oil that it’s difficult to tell. And I found another few shreds wrapped around the back of the nearside wheel hub. So you can see why I rang, Johnny. Looks like Seagrave’s story of the scarf killing his wife could be the honest truth, couldn’t it?’

  I tried to hide my disappointment. ‘Could be, Bobby. But we know from the police reports at the time that they had found bits of scarf caught in the car’s wheel.’

  I heard Briggs sniff. ‘Yer, well, suppose so. Just thought you’d like to hear some confirmation, that’s all. You asked me to —’

  ‘I know and thanks, Bobby. You did just right.’

  ‘Can I throw the bits of cloth away now then?’

  ‘I guess so.’ I stopped, as I suddenly had a thought. ‘No, don’t. Not yet. Tell you what. I’ll pop by on my way home this afternoon and pick them up from you.’

  ‘Only a few shreds, Johnny. Hardly worth the petrol your swank La Salle will guzzle.’

  ‘Well, you never know,’ I said. ‘See you later.’

  And that was that.

  For the next ten minutes or so I sat back in my chair with my feet on the window-sill, watching the seagulls catch the thermals from the harbour and soar lazily over the tips of the many masts, enjoying the heady freedom of the air. But my mind wasn’t really with them that morning. Henry Swindon’s disappearance had seen to that. I soon turned back to my desk and made a call to the theatre, where I was put through immediately to Tubby Trouncer.

  ‘No, old bean, no sign of him. And it’s the dress rehearsal for next week’s show too. As far as I’m concerned, if he doesn’t surface by lunchtime, he’s out of this company for ever. Now, Johnny, as to this afternoon’s matinee and this evening’s performance’ — I held my breath for his next utterance — ‘you’ll be relieved to hear I don’t need you really. Percy has recovered from the flu, so I’ll play your part. But anyway, thanks a bundle for last night.’

  Wearily, I put the receiver back on the hook. Then I spent the next quarter of an hour wracking my brains for some plan of action that could somehow trigger Seagrave into betraying his hand. For a short while I even toyed with a direct confrontation with the man, but doubted that he would be sufficiently disturbed by the suspicions of a fledgling private eye working from a tiny office rented from a Hong Kong novelty import company, to really get rattled. After all, even well-established private eyes with a fine track record are hardly the police. Now if they went to him with the same accusations, then he might just be panicked into some move that might betray him.

  It was that last thought that gave me the idea. I immediately dialled a London number and soon was explaining my stratagem. Thanks be, it was received with the same degree of enthusiasm as it was delivered.

  *

  As intended, I caught Dolly Randan just as she was leaving work, looking rather different in her modest spring coat and hat from how I remembered her on the dance floor.

  Taken by surprise, she refused my offer of a drink at the Imperial or even a coffee at the Kardomah, pleading that she had a date in the afternoon and she had to eat, wash and dry her hair at home first. But after a promise that I would drop her home afterwards, she did agree to walk back with me to where I had parked the La Salle and have a brief chat in the car.

  The sight of the big cream American car certainly seemed to impress, for before she would get in, she insisted on walking round it twice.

  Once inside, she said, ‘Coo, it’s like something out of the films, isn’t it? Just the kind of car that Daphne is always on about. Suit her down to the ground, it would.’

  She looked across at me. ‘You’ve shaved off your moustache, Mr Conway. I think you look nice like that. I prefer clean shaven men. They’re less sort of —’ she blushed — ‘tickly.’

  I took a deep breath, then came clean as to who I really was. She sat open-mouthed at my revelation that I ran a detective agency.

  ‘Oh, Mr Black, I never would have guessed. Did you ever tell Daphne who you really are?’

  I shook my head. ‘No. I felt mean not doing so, but I couldn’t right then. You see, in my business, secrecy and subterfuge are very often the name of the game. Clients expect you to be discreet and not reveal any details of your assignment and, especially, who you are working for.’

  I laid it on thick because the last thing I wanted was to give her any clue as to my real interest in her vanished colleague.

  She sat with her hands discreetly folded in her lap, as I informed her that no one seemed to have seen or heard from Daphne Phipps since that Saturday afternoon. But when I went on to tell her that her actor boyfriend had also now gone missing, her hands and eyes gave away her agitation.

  ‘Well, I never,’ she said quietly. ‘He’s gone too.’ She turned to me. You don’t think they could have run off together, do you?’

  ‘What do you think?’ I replied with a smile that said ‘no’.

  ‘H’mm. P’raps not. Daphne liked someone with a little bit of money, she did.’

  She sat silent for a moment. Then twisting her fingers together, said, ‘Someone’s not employing you, are they, because they think Daphne’s done something wrong?’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  She suddenly reached for the door handle. ‘I’d better be going ...’

  I grasped her arm. ‘No, Dolly, not yet. I’m Daphne’s friend, not her enemy. I’m trying to find her in case she’s in some sort of trouble.’

  She looked hard at me. ‘Are you telling me the truth?’

  ‘Yes, I am, I promise.’

  ‘You told us all a lie about who you were.’

  ‘But that was different. It’s sometimes my job to adopt a different personality. But I promise you I am speaking the truth now.’

  At last, she looked away, ‘I hope you are.’

  I squeezed her arm reassuringly, and she went on, ‘Well, you see, I’m just a bit worried about where Daphne got all that money I told you about the other day. Never seen so many five-pound notes, I haven’t.’

  ‘You think she might have come by them dishonestly?’

  She shook her head. ‘No ... well ... I don’t know ... not really. Daphne was ambitious all right, but not a thief or anything like that. No, not Daphne.’

  ‘So how do you think she came by them?’

  Her eyelids fluttered. ‘Well ...
er ... from some man or other, I expect, like I said. That rich fellow she said she was going out with. He might have given it to her.’

  ‘He might have. But it was a lot of money. And I know for a fact that Daphne had given her parents quite a bit as well. Now why should a man dole out that amount to a girl he could not have known all that long?’

  ‘Maybe he really loves her,’ she tried, but I could tell she didn’t believe it.

  ‘Look, Dolly, this is very important. I don’t want to worry you unduly, but I think Daphne may be in very serious trouble.’

  She looked at me in horror. ‘You mean she’s gone into hiding so that ...’

  ‘So that what, Dolly?’

  She hesitated, so I helped her. ‘So that the police don’t catch up with her?’

  She looked terribly flustered. ‘Oh, Mr Conway, I mean, Mr Black, I don’t know what I’m saying, I really don’t. Daphne’s my friend and I mustn’t speak ill of her.’

  ‘But I think you’ve a shrewd idea of what she was up to, Dolly. To save you the embarrassment, I’ll say it. You think she was blackmailing somebody, don’t you?’

  She shook her head, this time more out of bewilderment. ‘I really don’t know, Mr Black. I suppose she might have been. She was ambitious all right, but —’

  She turned to me and her eyes were wet with incipient tears. ‘Oh God, you don’t think something terrible’s happened to her, do you? I mean, like ... if she was doing what you say, then —’

  ‘Someone might want to silence her?’

  She closed her eyes tight shut at the thought.

  ‘No, Mr Black, that can’t be true.’ Her voice became almost a shout. ‘It mustn’t. It mustn’t.’

  Her hand reached for the door handle once more. ‘I must go. I’ve stayed far too long already.’

  I reached across her and re-latched the door. Tm dropping you home, remember?’

  She wiped her eyes with her fingers. ‘Oh yes, of course. Well, could we go now, please? I’ve got to get my hair done and dried before I go out again.’

  ‘Okay,’ I smiled. ‘I’m sorry to have upset you.’

  She sniffed. ‘S’alright, Mr Black.’ Smiling through her tears, she added, ‘Sorry for getting like this, only, you know, Daphne is my friend and friends sort of feel responsible for each other don’t they?’

 

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