The Death of Kings

by Rennie George Airth

  ‘Tempting as the offer is, Charlie, I’m afraid I must decline.’

  Madden rose with a heavy sigh.

  ‘I’ve a train to catch.’

  28

  THE WIND HAD GOT up suddenly in the last few minutes and now Madden felt the first drops of rain on his cheek. A change in the seasons was under way. The blue summer skies of the past month had given way to broken cloud, and the weather forecast he had glanced at in the paper coming down to Petersfield had held out the promise of further rain.

  Just then a rumble of thunder prompted him to glance up at the sky, and as he did so he caught sight of a kestrel hovering above him, banking against the wind. He wondered if it was the same bird he and Jessup had seen when they had walked up this way together. Lowering his gaze he saw a figure in the distance. Someone was following him up the path from the house. He recognized Ted Lennox’s stocky figure and limping stride. Madden waited for him to catch up.

  Although he had given them no warning of his visit, he had been warmly greeted by Mrs Castleton when he had arrived by taxi from the station. Shown into the drawing-room by one of the maids, he had found her busy arranging flowers in the vases placed there.

  ‘I’m so pleased to see you, John.’ She had shaken his hand. ‘Richard said you might come down from London today.’

  ‘Did he?’ Madden had been surprised.

  ‘He told me you would probably turn up. Do you mean you didn’t mention the possibility to him?’ Now it was she who looked puzzled.

  ‘It was a last-minute decision.’

  Madden had spent some time on the train coming down from London thinking up a plausible excuse for his visit and he offered it to her.

  ‘I was at Waterloo intending to catch a train to Highfield when I changed my mind and decided to come down here instead. There’s something I want to discuss with Richard. Has he told you what happened last night?’

  ‘You mean about Stanley Wing?’ She winced. ‘What a dreadful business! Richard told me about it when he got back this morning. He said he had to go to the docks to identify what was left of the poor creature, but that you were with him, and that made it easier.’ She smiled. ‘You’ve been a great support to him, John. Rex Garner’s death upset him terribly. But I expect you know that.’

  She had paused to place some flowers she was holding in her arms into one of the vases.

  ‘Sarah will be back tomorrow.’ She spoke over her shoulder. ‘I want the house to look its best for her.’

  Drying her hands on a rag, she turned to him again.

  ‘Still, it is strange that Richard seemed so sure you would come down today. I don’t mean to pry, but is what you have to discuss with him so important?’

  Madden hesitated. He wanted to be as frank with her as he could. But there were things he could not say.

  ‘I was at Scotland Yard earlier today and was told they had discovered Wing’s body. I felt Richard should know.’

  ‘Oh, that explains it, then.’ She seemed relieved. ‘Why he thought you might be coming down. He knows, you see.’

  ‘Knows . . . ?’

  ‘A police inspector rang this morning, a Mr Styles from Scotland Yard. Richard came back from London quite exhausted and he’d gone upstairs to rest. But he came down to take the call and afterwards he told me that Stanley’s body had been found. I think it was a relief to him.’

  ‘A relief . . ?’ Madden was incredulous.

  ‘Of course it’s an awful thing to contemplate, but he did say something that made me think that in some way it was a comfort to him. At least it’s all over now, he said, nothing more can happen . . . nothing terrible. I thought then that he’d go back to his bedroom to rest, but he decided instead to go out.’

  ‘For a walk, do you mean?’ Madden was even more puzzled now.

  ‘He said he wanted to see whether the council had started work on fencing off a piece of land not far from here—it overlooks a disused quarry—which he feels is dangerous.’

  ‘I think I know the spot.’ Madden frowned. ‘He showed it to me.’

  ‘He said he’d take the children with him. I wish he hadn’t. It’s going to pour with rain. Anyway, off they went, and so did I. Lennox took me into Petersfield to have my hair done. If only we’d known, I could have delayed my appointment and met you at the station.’ She smiled. ‘Now, have you had any lunch, John? We can easily fix you a sandwich.’

  Madden hesitated. He was baffled by Jessup’s behaviour.

  ‘And you’re sure he took the children with him?’ he asked.

  ‘Without doubt, I’m sorry to say.’ Mrs Castleton laughed. ‘I’m afraid they’re going to get soaked. I was about to go outside to have a look for them. Would you like to come with me?’

  She had led the way out through the door onto the flagged terrace, where they found Lennox busy with a chore. Dressed in rough clothes, he was down on his knees varnishing a bench. When he heard their voices he looked up.

  ‘Hullo, sir.’ He greeted Madden with a smile. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you today.’

  Mrs Castleton was already scanning the field beyond the wall at the bottom of the garden.

  ‘There they are,’ she said, ‘the children, at any rate. I can’t see any sign of Richard.’

  Madden followed the direction of her gaze; Lennox, too, paused in his work to look up. Two small figures could be seen making their way across the meadow towards the house.

  ‘Jack’s carrying something,’ Mrs Castleton said, shading her eyes. The sun had come out for a moment. Lennox followed her example.

  ‘I reckon that’s Sir Richard’s shotgun,’ he said after a moment. ‘What’s Master Jack doing with it, I wonder?’

  Mrs Castleton was already moving towards the steps that led down to the lawn and Madden followed her. Together they walked towards the gate, but before they got there it opened and the children appeared. The little girl ran towards them, calling out:

  ‘Look what I found, Grandma!’ She was brandishing a large mushroom.

  Mrs Castleton bent to kiss her. ‘You mustn’t put it in your mouth, Katy darling. It might be poisonous. Where’s Daddy?’ she asked.

  ‘There . . .’ The girl pointed back towards the wooded valley down which they had walked.

  Her brother, as though conscious of the importance of the mission he’d been entrusted with, followed at a more sedate pace. He held the shotgun cradled in his arms.

  ‘Daddy told me I could carry it back to the house,’ he announced importantly. ‘He said I was to give it to you, Lennox.’

  The chauffeur had materialised at their side. Solemnly he took possession of the weapon.

  ‘You have to put it in the gun-room, Daddy says.’

  ‘Of course, Master Jack—that’s where it belongs. We’ll do it right away. Would you like to come with me?’

  ‘Just a moment, Jack . . .’ Madden checked them. ‘Did your father say how long he’d be?’

  The boy shook his head. ‘He just said he wanted to walk some more, but that we should go back because it was going to rain.’ He pointed at the dark clouds that were massing overhead.

  Madden turned to Mrs Castleton.

  ‘I think I’ll go after him,’ he said.

  ‘Must you?’ She was unhappy with the idea. ‘You’ll only get wet yourself. I can’t think why Richard didn’t come back with them. Just look at the sky.’

  ‘I can’t stay long,’ Madden said. ‘I have to get home. If I don’t go now I may miss him.’

  Trying not to reveal his growing unease, he turned to leave, but then paused.

  ‘Jack . . . !’ he called to the boy, who was already walking away up the lawn with Lennox. They both turned to look at him.

  ‘Did your father say anything else?’ he asked.

  The boy thought for a moment.

  ‘Only
what he’s always telling me: that I have to look after Katy and see that she doesn’t fall into any rabbit holes.’

  Grinning, he gestured at his sister, who was sitting on the grass at Mrs Castleton’s feet picking at her mushroom.

  ‘He said I must remember to take care of her.’

  • • •

  Heralded by a roll of thunder, the rain arrived all at once, changing without warning from a sprinkling of drops to a sudden downpour that blurred the outlines of the landscape and reduced the approaching figure of Lennox to little more than a shape. Madden pulled up the collar of his raincoat and altered the angle of his hat in an attempt to ward off the lashing drops which were being driven by a high wind.

  ‘What is it, Ted?’ he called out to the chauffeur, who had neither a coat nor an umbrella and was already drenched from head to foot. ‘Is there a problem?’

  ‘Not that I know of, sir.’ As he came up to Madden he brushed the water from his face. ‘I just thought I’d come with you.’

  ‘You should have brought a coat, man.’

  ‘You’re right, sir. But it’s a bit late now.’ The brief smile he showed flickered and went out. ‘The thing is, I’m worried about him, sir, and that’s the truth.’

  Madden was silent.

  ‘Coming down from London this morning he never said a word. And he didn’t sit up in the front with me like he always does. He sat in the back looking out of the window most of the time. I could see he was miles away.’

  ‘He’s been under a lot of strain, Ted.’

  Madden turned to look up the valley.

  ‘I don’t see any sign of him.’

  ‘Maybe he’s gone up into the trees for shelter.’ Lennox pointed to the wooded ridge above them. He sounded hopeful.

  ‘He’ll spot us if he has,’ Madden replied. ‘I think we should go on. He told Mrs Castleton he was going to the quarry.’

  They continued up the valley, Madden walking with head bent against the driving rain, Lennox following in his footsteps. The path they were on had become a rivulet. Water flowed over their shoes as they trudged on. Looking up, Madden saw they had reached a gap in the ridge on their right, a grassy saddle that broke the otherwise uninterrupted march of beech and chestnut.

  ‘We walked up there, I remember.’

  He pointed, and heard Lennox’s answering grunt behind him.

  ‘That’s the spot, all right.’

  With one accord they veered off the path and started up the slope. As they neared the top the rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun and the wind died down. The leaden light that had enveloped them like a veil brightened, and as they came to the hedge of holly Madden recalled from his earlier visit, sunshine broke through the clouds, lending a glint to the dark green foliage.

  ‘We’d better have a look on the other side,’ Lennox said.

  Stepping past his companion, he picked a way through the spikey leaves. Madden followed.

  ‘Mind your step now, sir,’ Lennox cautioned him as they came out onto the strip of turf Madden remembered. It was sodden underfoot. ‘You don’t want to slip here.’

  The drop into the quarry beyond was only a few yards from where they stood.

  Both men peered left and right along the empty stretch of grass.

  ‘There’s no sign of him.’ It was Madden who spoke. The ‘thank God’ he muttered beneath his breath went unheard by his companion.

  Lennox’s gaze hadn’t shifted. It remained fixed on a point a little way to their left.

  ‘Just a moment, sir.’

  When he moved in that direction Madden saw that his attention had been caught by something on the ground. A strip of mud had been gouged out of the wet turf. It led to the brink of the quarry. Lennox approached it cautiously. Heart thumping now, Madden did the same. Just short of the mark the chauffeur went down on his knees and peered over the edge.

  ‘Christ, no . . . !’

  His anguished cry brought Madden to his side. Doing what the chauffeur had done, he went down on his knees and leaned forward as far as he dared.

  The body was close to the white cliff side. Richard Jessup lay sprawled on his back with his limbs spread-eagled. Despite the distance between them, Madden could see that his eyes were wide open. They seemed to be staring at the sky, and when he looked up he saw the kestrel hovering above them, motionless in the suddenly still air.

  • • •

  It was late in the afternoon before Madden had a chance to speak to Billy. On returning to the house—and before sending one of the maids upstairs to rouse Mrs Castleton, who was resting in her room—he had rung the police in Petersfield to report the accident, and to tell them that Sir Richard’s chauffeur would be waiting by the body of his employer for their arrival.

  He had hardly completed the call, made from Jessup’s study, when he had heard the door open and saw Adele Castleton. She was in her dressing-gown. She stood in the doorway.

  ‘John . . . ?’

  One look at his face had been enough. Even before he spoke he had heard her catch her breath and turn pale. She listened to him in silence, eyes wide, but unseeing. Only when he had finished did she move, and then with a stagger, prompting him to come swiftly to her side. He had taken her arm and led her to one of the armchairs where he had sat with Jessup; where they had talked.

  ‘An accident . . . where . . . how . . . ?’

  Like arrows drawn from wounds, the questions had appeared to cause her pain, and Madden had drawn up his chair close to hers so that he could take her hands in his. He had told her all he could.

  ‘It looks as though he slipped. There was a mark in the ground. He must have gone too close to the edge of the quarry.’ He paused. ‘We must think about the children,’ he had added gently.

  She had stared at him for long seconds. And then, like a swimmer emerging from a deep dive, she had caught her breath with a gasp and he had seen from the steadiness of her glance that she was in possession of herself again.

  ‘I can’t tell them now.’ She spoke calmly. ‘We must wait until Sarah comes back. Her plane lands tomorrow morning. Richard was planning to drive up to London to meet her. I’ll go with Lennox and we’ll take the children with us. It’s the best way, the only way.’

  Her gaze had shifted to the table in the corner where the photograph of the fair-haired young woman wearing a beret and smiling in the rain stood.

  ‘Poor darling,’ she had murmured. ‘What a homecoming.’

  Soon afterwards the police in Petersfield had rung to confirm that they had collected Jessup’s body from the quarry and to say that it had been taken to the city mortuary. Half an hour later Lennox had returned to the house. Pale and still stricken, he had seemed bereft of words and Madden had led him to the kitchen, where the cook and housemaids, already apprised of the tragedy, took him into their care. By that time the two children had come down from the nursery, where they had been resting after their long walk, and Mrs Castleton, who had had time to get dressed before they appeared, had taken them into the drawing-room, where a fire had been lit. She had told them that their father would not be home that evening, but that she had a surprise for them. They would both be coming with her and Lennox to welcome their mother when she returned the following day.

  ‘It means a trip to the airport,’ she had told them. ‘You’ll be able to watch the planes landing and taking off.’

  While they were together in the drawing-room Madden had seized the opportunity to ring Scotland Yard. The news of Jessup’s death had not yet reached London and Billy had been dumbfounded when he heard what had occurred.

  ‘You say he fell into a quarry, sir?’

  ‘That’s how it looks. He seems to have slipped in the mud.’

  ‘Seems, you say . . . ?’

  Billy had dangled the question in front of Madden, hoping perhaps that he would take the b
ait. If so, he was doomed to disappointment.

  ‘You called the house earlier, I believe, Billy?’ Madden had responded with a question of his own.

  ‘I wanted to speak to Jessup, sir. He had some questions to answer.’

  ‘I take it you’ve had those negatives developed.’ Madden saw no point in keeping up the charade any longer.

  ‘You mean you know about them, sir?’ For the first time in his life, Billy had sounded angry with his old mentor; well put out. ‘You knew it was Jessup in that room with Portia Blake?’

  ‘I only guessed. And it never occurred to me until last night. I’d been trying to decide what to do about it. That’s why I came down here. I wanted to speak to Richard: to hear what he had to say. But I never got the chance.’ He paused. ‘Jessup’s wife—widow, I should say—is coming back from America tomorrow. Mrs Castleton is going up to London to meet her plane. I’ll return home. Why not come down to Highfield? We can talk about it then.’

  ‘I don’t know, sir . . .’ Billy had been far from mollified. ‘What about this so-called “accident” then? Do you buy that?’

  At that moment the door to the study had opened and Lennox appeared.

  ‘Not now, Billy. We’ll talk later, I promise.’

  Madden had hung up.

  29

  ‘IT WAS STARING ME in the face all the time, but I never saw it. I didn’t want to. It’s the only way I can explain it. I was drawn to the man. I admired him. I still do.’

  Madden stared into the fire that was burning in the chief inspector’s grate. Sinclair watched him closely. Catching Billy’s eye, he saw he was about to speak and he held up his hand. Wait!

  ‘He was the one with everything to lose, not Rex Garner, but somehow I managed to blind myself to the fact. I never could understand why Garner should have killed the girl. Even if he’d been in a rage over the way she had behaved the previous evening—carrying on that way at the dinner table—it still wasn’t enough to provoke him into murder; or so I thought. And on top of that there was something that maid, Annie Potter, told Lily Poole that ought to have aroused my suspicions.’