“Can you give us a few minutes, Chief?” asked Tip.
“Of course. What for?”
“I’d like to take photocopies of the papers you got today, and relevant extracts from the books.”
“Highly illegal,” said Green.
“Pretend you didn’t hear,” said Berger.
“Make it snappy,” said Masters. “I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
The two sergeants left the office.
“Hurry, George?” asked Green. “Going somewhere tonight?”
“All the bits and pieces to do with the house. I can’t leave them all to Wanda.”
“Packing, you mean?”
“I didn’t actually. I meant documentation. I’m going to write all those damn’ letters, leaving gaps for dates to be filled in later. Rate rebate, reading electricity and gas meters, phone transfer and so on to say nothing of a few things which I think Wanda will have got from the solicitor. Oh, yes, and there’s a chap coming to size up the furniture to give us a removal estimate.”
“It’s all go, then?”
“Getting up to the start line and pausing on it, waiting for the whistle to proceed.”
“Meaning you are waiting for me and my missus to spark.”
“I suppose that is the chief thing. But please don’t harass Doris, Bill. A few days is neither here nor there. Don’t forget Anderson said this present business has to be cleared up before we can make a literal move.”
Green stood up. “A few days is all it should take,” he agreed. “At least that’s what Doris thinks. She’s so sure of it she’s dragooned Berger and Tip into promising their help with the removal.”
“Are they happy about that?”
“Apparently young Berger is going to hire a van and remove us himself. It was his idea. Said it would be cheaper.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Too busy thinking about dead actresses, felonious Scotsmen and oast-houses, I suspect.”
“That’s about the strength of it, I suppose.”
The door opened and Tip came back with the papers and books she had borrowed. “Thank you, Chief. We’re going to study them tonight.”
“We?” demanded Green.
“Sergeant Berger and I.”
“You surprise me. Will you let him smoke while he studies?”
Tip coloured.
Green smiled at her. “You’ll win, lass. If he behaves himself he won’t smoke, and he certainly won’t smoke if he starts to misbehave himself. So you win both ways.”
Tip grinned at him as she headed for the door. “Yes, I do, don’t I?”
7
When they all met early the next morning in Masters’ office, Green said to Berger: “Well, lad, did you get anything from your study of those papers last night?”
Berger grinned. “We got to know why the Chief sent Tip to the RSM library yesterday. Or at least one of the reasons.”
“Okay, lad, spill it.”
“The Chief had suspected that a Scot wrote that anonymous letter to Carlyle.”
“I know that,” growled Green.
“Then you’ll know that when he sent Tip off to get him those papers one of the instructions on the list was to get hold of any printed information about leptospirosis in Scotland.”
“That seems a fairly obvious thing to do.”
“No, it doesn’t,” retorted Tip. “The Chief wanted printed information, not just national statistics of the incidence of the disease and stuff like that.”
Green sat up and looked across at Masters. “Was that it, George? You wanted some sort of dope specific to Scotland that an interested party up there could read?”
“Roughly that, Bill. I was hoping that there might have been something written by somebody like, say, a microbiologist that pertained so specifically to Scotland that the Scottish daily papers would have picked it up and repeated it as an item of news of some interest up there.”
“Where the London dailies would ignore it because it was too local to be national news?”
“That was my line of thought. Lots of bits of interesting parochial news are never seen by the rest of us because Fleet Street filters them out.”
“I can understand why they should filter out any reports of leptospirosis anywhere, let alone in Scotland. But it was worth a try, I suppose. And from the way these two kids are acting, I guess it paid off.”
“It most certainly did,” said Tip.
“How, lass?”
“We learned that Weil’s disease had been prevalent in the Aberdeen fish market.”
“Interesting.”
“Don’t be like that. Studies had shown that the disease was not encountered in the Grimsby or Glasgow fish markets, though the sheds in all three ports were equally rat-infected.”
Green stroked his chin. “There had to be a reason for that, love.”
“There was. In Grimsby the gutting tables were hosed down with sea water, while in Glasgow the workers were using brine and kippering fluid. All those liquids are leptospirocidal. So no Weil’s disease. In Aberdeen, however, the washing down was done with ordinary tap-water of nearly neutral pH.”
“Meaning it was neither acid nor alkaline?”
“Right. Just right for the bugs to survive in.”
“Exactly the same as Carlyle’s swimming pool?”
“You’ve got it.”
“Thanks, petal.” Green turned to Masters. “And you think that little nugget of information found its way into the Scottish dailies where our unfriendly Scotsman could read it, latch on to it, and decide to infect Hugh Carlyle’s pool?”
“Not as quickly as all that, perhaps,” replied Masters. “All this information was first discovered by various experts a good many years ago, and matters have been put to rights. More recently another author has gathered all the bits and pieces together in one paper. He is, I believe, a pathologist. At any rate, he has a string of letters after his name, including F.R.C. Path. He wrote a paper on leptospirosis some years ago.”
“Did he say anything about prevention?”
“Quite a lot. Washing down tables, floors and fish-boxes in Aberdeen with hypochlorite disinfectant, combined, of course, with strong antirat measures, eliminated the disease. He went on to say that in coal mines the closing down or draining of waterlogged workings, the abolition of pit ponies and so on got rid of that particular danger for miners. Sewage workers and the likes of trout farmers are carefully instructed about the disease and infections among them are unusual nowadays. But the point is, the danger is still there. Measures to prevent trouble are in force, but infected rats still exist. And it is from one or more of such animals that somebody collected the urine for the purposes of fouling that swimming pool.”
“The preventive measures don’t eliminate the diseased rats?”
“Not possible, Bill. Of course there have to be antirat measures in the workplace, and this means some rats are trapped and killed. But the other measures are protective rather than eliminative. Such things as drainage of waterlogged areas, use of disinfectants, protective clothing, early treatment of skin abrasions and prevention of accidental immersion in water that is likely to be infected are all useful, but they don’t eliminate the disease.”
Green drew hard on his cigarette and then said: “The last two measures you just mentioned are important to us, I’d say.”
“Treatment of skin abrasions and prevention of accidental immersion? I’ll say they are important. The whole case revolves round them.”
“Carla Sanders’ skin abrasions?”
“And her immersion, accidental or otherwise.”
“We reckon otherwise, don’t we?”
“Yes.”
“That’s specific, at any rate.”
“It has to be, Bill. This business was planned. By that I mean the collection of infected rat urine. It could have taken days, or weeks for all I know.”
“Not knowing the output of rats, as it were?”
“E
xactly. But whatever the statistics, we know the job was planned. And whoever planned it knew the exact date of when he proposed to carry out his operation.”
Green grunted. “I get you. Carlyle’s birthday. A fixed date on which there was a party at his home every year.”
“And a function to which our man was certain he was to be invited.”
“That means after Mrs. C. sent out the invites.”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps he had been a regular guest at the same function for some years and was fully expecting to be so this year.”
Green shrugged. “Not a stone-bonker certainty, was it, though? The guest list could change.”
“Of course it could. Neither was it certain that the party would be held round the swimming pool. Had it been raining, for instance …”
“Anybody could make an excuse to go out into a garden like that in any weather, Chief,” interrupted Tip. She reddened under his gaze. “Sorry for breaking in, Chief. It just came out.”
“Don’t apologise, Tip. Give me an example of an excuse you would use for leaving the party in the middle of a rainstorm.”
Tip grimaced in dismay.
“Wait until it stopped,” said Berger tentatively.
Masters nodded, unconvinced.
“Wait until after dark, certainly,” burst out Tip.
“Go on.”
“Leave the house on the pretence that I wanted something I’d left in the car.”
“Reasonable.” He paused for her to continue.
“I think that’s it, Chief. It’s by no means an unknown thing for people to leave parties surreptitiously. We’ve all done it from time to time. Gone out for a breath of fresh air, perhaps.”
“Fair enough,” agreed Masters. “Now to get back to the point at which we digressed. In order to have the necessary supply of leptospirae, the intention to foul the swimming pool must have been planned well in advance of the date of the party. That confirms intent to murder, in my view.”
“Hear, hear,” grunted Green. “You’ll have to tell Edgar Anderson and get this enquiry turned into a case. Then the Kent police can deal with it. It’s on their patch.”
Masters ignored this. “We know the means, method and opportunity. Now we have to determine who the real victim was to have been, for it is certain Carla Sanders was not intended to die. How do we know that, Tip?”
“It’s obvious, Chief,” objected Berger.
“For continuation of evidence, we have to spell it out. Something I would like you to pay particular attention to, because I would like you to collate this particular file for the Crown prosecutors. Partly for your continuous assessment and partly because, as you already know, it could be more convenient if the DCI and myself were not to be seen to be too closely associated with the presentation of this case. Certain of the reports have already been typed by Tip, I believe. I feel sure she will do the same for your linking observations and will prepare a duplicate file for consideration by your examiners when the time comes.”
“Right, Chief.”
“So now, Tip, please. Why do we know Carla Sanders was not the intended victim?”
“Because she was not on the original guest list for the party, Chief, so nobody could know that she would be there. Far enough in advance, that is, to prepare a lethal dose of leptospirae. In fact, the reverse would be thought to be true. She had only just opened in a new West End show and so one could have wagered she would be in the theatre on Saturday evening. As it was, she injured herself late on the Thursday night, and it was only then that the invitation to the party was issued. That left less than forty-eight hours in which to prepare the leptospirae: a time we consider to have been far too short for the collection of a sufficient quantity of rat’s urine to pollute a volume of water the size of Carlyle’s swimming pool.”
“A good point that last one,” grunted Green.
“Good,” agreed Masters, “but not absolutely valid. Given the right conditions, such as pertained in Carlyle’s pool, bugs can multiply by the million in a very short time.”
Green grimaced. “Pure, clean water, gently warmed by the sun?”
“Exactly. So make the point but don’t stress it too much.”
“Right, Chief,” said Berger. “Incidentally, how does one collect rat’s urine?”
“Doubtless there are a number of ways, including extraction by catheter or forced evacuation by pressure in the right spots on the body, but from what I have been able to gather from a conversation with the pathologist, the easiest way for the layman would be simply to provide a superfluity of liquid food for the rats—some form of broth or syrupy water or whatever they happen to fancy—to cause them to urinate pretty frequently. The urine is then caught on trays of absolutely neutral vermiculite grains on the bottom of the cages. These trays are changed very frequently, and the fouled vermiculite steeped in clean water. The leptospirae are washed off the vermiculite and the water that is used is polluted. The water is than strained to remove the vermiculite and left to stand so that it evaporates at room temperature, getting stronger and more polluted by the hour. It is not, however, allowed to evaporate altogether.”
“When you’ve got enough you fill a litre tonic bottle and push off to the party, I suppose,” said Green.
“Something of the sort,” agreed Masters, “but a litre bottle would be difficult to conceal on the body, whereas a thin plastic bag …”
“I know, Chief,” said Tip excitedly. “Just an ordinary see-through plastic bag, sealed at the top. When the lights go out all you have to do is puncture it and drop in into the pool. The pollution is going to escape and the bag will just be an empty bag, either floating just below the surface or on the bottom of the pool and nobody is going to think anything about a single plastic bag in a pool after a party. Lots of little bits and pieces could be there—crumbs, matchsticks, anything.”
Masters smiled. “Just what I was about to say, Tip, except that I was going to point out that such a bag could well be a rectangular one that would lie, very flat, probably not more than an inch thick, very neatly inside, say, a man’s jacket.”
“Make it two smaller bags,” suggested Green. “Same shape, but just about right for the two pockets on a jacket. Shoving a hole in two bags would take no longer than puncturing one.”
“I like that, Bill. Concealment on the person was going to be a tricky point, that’s why I didn’t like the tonic bottle. Two flat bags … why not? Sergeant Berger, you and Tip will go to see the chap who cleared out the pool …”
“Hookham?”
“That’s the chap. Ask him whether he found two plastic bags.”
“When, Chief?”
“After we’ve finished here.” Masters looked across at Green. “We shall have to interview quite a number of the people at the party, Bill.”
Green nodded. “The two Scotsmen for sure.”
“There’s another bloke, too. Have you ever heard of Slim Piper?”
Green sat up. “Have I not! Stage magician. Seen him many a time in the old days of variety. Could fool anybody with his tricks.”
“You didn’t happen to notice his name on the list you got from Mrs. Carlyle?”
“Didn’t read it, actually. I glanced at it at Mrs. Carlyle’s request, just to see that I could read her scrawl, and then pocketed it to give to you, while we went on to discuss Scotsmen.”
“I see.”
Green looked at him shrewdly. “I know what you are thinking. Piper is a prestidigitator. If anybody could shove a couple of bags into that pool without anybody seeing him do it, it would be Piper.”
“It’s a possibility.”
“He wouldn’t need the lights to be put out.”
“Not even to hide the bags themselves going down, emptying and gurgling as they went? He’d be able to put them in unseen, perhaps, but he’d have no control over them once they’d entered the water. A few minutes of darkness would help to cover his tracks.”
Green nodded glumly. “I suppose
so, but would an old trouper like Slim Piper know enough about leptospirosis to realise its potential for harm and the way to milk rats to get at the stuff?”
Masters looked straight at him. “No. I’d bet a large sum of money he wouldn’t.”
“Why bring him up then, Chief?” asked Berger.
“Simply to show that we don’t know what skills were present round the swimming pool that night.”
“Two magicians would be a bit much to expect, wouldn’t they, Chief?”
“Possibly. But if we substitute a period of darkness as a cover for lack of ability at prestidigitation, then we must look for knowledge of deadly germs, and I wouldn’t like to bet that there weren’t several people round the pool that night who didn’t have that particular accomplishment.”
“Coupled with a strong dislike of Mr. Hugh Carlyle?”
“Just so. Or at least one of them with feelings of dislike.”
“Somebody he had invited as a guest and so, presumably, regarded as a friend?”
“Or at least not inimical towards him.”
“So we have to interview everybody on that list?”
“Perhaps not everybody, but some at least.”
Berger scratched his head.
“Careful, lad,” warned Green, “or you’ll get splinters in your fingers.”
“What? Oh, yes.” The sergeant looked across at Masters, who waited for the question he knew was coming.
“You said you are going to see the AC (Crime), Chief, to tell him we have established that this was a case of attempted murder where a person, not the intended victim, was killed. Right?”
“Quite right.”
Berger went on slowly, feeling his way through his side of the dialogue. “Can we be sure that murder was intended, Chief?”
“Explain what you have in mind, please.”
“I’ve understood all along that Carla Sanders caught her fever because she had open wounds on her leg and the bugs got in that way. I’ll go even further and suggest that even so she might have escaped if she’d whipped the bandage off her leg and used a fresh one. What I mean is, she continued to wear an infected dressing which was in direct contact with open wounds, thereby giving the bugs all the time in the world to get to work and enter her system.”
Bitter Water Page 18