The Affair of the Thirty-Nine Cufflinks

by James Anderson

  Wilkins broke in. 'Just for the sergeant's record, could you tell us Marion's surname?'

  'The same as mine, Mackenzie. She never married.'

  'So how did your - ' he paused momentarily before guessing ' - sister know about this great opportunity?'

  'Well, they do, don't they? Know things, I mean, that we don't.'

  'Who do?'

  'Yes, I'm afraid that may well be true.'

  Wilkins took a deep breath. 'What may be true?'

  'That there was a hoodoo on my whole enterprise.'

  'No, I mean who know things that we don't?'

  'Those who are no longer in the body.'

  Light dawned in Wilkins' eyes. He nodded sapiently. 'Yes, I suppose they do. When did your sister die, Miss Mackenzie?'

  'We prefer not to use that word, Mr Wilkins. My sister passed on nearly eight years ago. And in all that time she has never communicated before, which was what made it so exciting.'

  'And this was at a séance with Mr Hawthorne, the medium?'

  'A public meeting, really. He's truly wonderful. And the message was so direct: from Marion, for Jean. I couldn't think what it could mean, though I puzzled about it for days. Then Florrie passed on and that of course put it out of my head. But when I was talking to Mr Bradley, he actually asked me if Florrie had ever said anything about where she wanted to be buried. And it suddenly hit me. If the funeral were held at Alderley, I felt sure, knowing how kind and hospitable they are, that the Earl and Countess would invite the mourners back to the house, and there just might be a chance, even if we were only here for an hour or so. So that's when I told my lie. Then we were actually invited to stay here overnight. It seemed to be working out so wonderfully and I honestly believed that I would be able to achieve a really important Communication with the Unquiet Spirits - or at least one of them.'

  'But what exactly were you planning to do? You said yourself that you're not a sensitive.'

  'No, but I had the next best thing: a ouija board. I've had really remarkable results with it in the past.'

  'But you didn't actually go ahead with your plan?'

  'Oh, but I did. Last night.'

  'You did? When?'

  'After everybody, except Lady Geraldine and Dorry, had gone to bed.'

  'In your room?'

  'No, no. I wanted to get as close as possible to the actual site of one of the murders, and I knew that one had taken place in the room which houses the gun collection. Of course, I couldn't get in there, but the art gallery is very close to it. I went in there yesterday before the reading of the will, and I felt a definite coldness about half way along to the right as you go in - often a sign of a spirit's presence. And, remarkably, I'd actually been allocated a room across the corridor, which made everything very easy. It really seemed as though it were all part of some great Plan.'

  Wilkins stared at her. 'You were actually in the picture gallery last night? What time?'

  'It was just a minute or two before twelve when I went in.'

  'So it was you who knocked the suit of armour over?'

  'Oh dear me, no. But I was there when it happened. It was terrible, really terrible—'

  'Miss Mackenzie, just tell me precisely what you did and what occurred.'

  'I took my ouija board and a small glass, to use with it as a sort of pointer, into the gallery. Do you know how it is done?'

  'I think so. You upturn the glass on the board, put your finger on the bottom, and it's supposed to move about of its own accord and point to the various letters.'

  'Exactly. I went to the cold spot and sat down on one of the upright chairs. I said a short prayer, that I would be protected from any evil forces, and then waited, trying to prepare myself mentally. I must admit I found it difficult to start. I was a little nervous, being alone, and so close to where a murder had been committed. It must have been about fifteen or twenty minutes before I felt ready. At first I put the ouija board on my lap, but it kept sliding about. So I put it on the chair and knelt down by it. I put the glass on it, rested my fingers on the glass and said: "Is there anyone there?" And then . . .'

  Miss Mackenzie, who seemed to be quite enjoying herself now, paused dramatically. 'Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, the suit of armour just fell over. It made the most dreadful noise you can imagine. I literally jumped out of my skin. But I knew immediately what had happened. And it could hardly have been worse.'

  'What do you mean?'

  'I had obviously raised an evil spirit or a poltergeist. It is something I have heard of happening, but it had never happened to me. I have to admit I was absolutely terrified. I grabbed the board and the glass and positively ran to the door. I dropped the glass, but couldn't stop to pick up the pieces. I did turn the light off as I went out, but I left the door open. When I got back to my room I was shaking like a leaf, positively like a leaf. I realised, of course, that this was a punishment for me, and a warning that no good can ever come of telling lies. Very shortly, I heard footsteps and voices outside. I would have stayed in my room, but, frankly, I felt the need of human company, so I went out, and then learned the terrible news.'

  Wilkins rubbed his chin. 'Did you hear Miss Simmons shouting?'

  'Yes, as I crossed the corridor, though I did not know it was her. I thought perhaps that somebody else was experiencing poltergeist phenomena, but it seems not. I just pray that there will be no recurrence here and that the manifestation was aimed solely at me, not at the house.'

  She turned to Gerry. 'Lady Geraldine, I can only offer my most heartfelt apologies. I shamelessly took advantage of your parents' known generosity and I feel most terribly guilty.'

  'Miss Mackenzie, please don't reproach yourself too much. I think you're jolly plucky to have come out with it all like this. If you hadn't, no one would have ever known. And it was very suitable to have the funeral here. It was right that Florrie should have been buried at Alderley, as I know my parents both felt eventually.'

  'But I'm responsible for the murder. Clara wouldn't have been here if it hadn't been for me.'

  'You mustn't think that, Miss Mackenzie,' said Wilkins. 'This crime would have been committed somewhere. It arose out of that scene at the reading of the will - which would have occurred wherever the reading had taken place. What Mrs Saunders said frightened somebody very much. And that led directly to her death.'

  'You do make me feel a little better, Mr Wilkins. Thank you.'

  'Just one or two questions. Did you tell anyone in advance of your plans to hold a séance?'

  'Yes, I told Tommy. He's always been most interested in psychic matters. I even invited him to take part with me, but he refused. I think he was a little nervous - and quite rightly, as it transpired. I have been warned that ouija boards are dangerous things, but I foolishly ignored the warnings.'

  'And you told him afterwards what had occurred?'

  'Yes, earlier this morning. He was very concerned.'

  'Is there anything else you can tell us about last night?'

  'No, nothing. I retired to my room quite early and stayed there, reading, until I went to the art gallery.'

  'Finally, have you ever heard the name Miss Dora Lethbridge?'

  'No, never.'

  'Then that will be all for now. We may ask you to sign a statement later.'

  'Very well.' She stood up.

  'If you go with Sergeant Leather, he'll take you to our fingerprint man.'

  'It's all right,' Gerry said, 'I'll take her. And afterwards, a glass of sherry, eh, Miss Mackenzie?'

  'Well, it is a little early for me, but it does sound very tempting. Tell me, Lady Geraldine, is your rector here an experienced exorcist?'

  'I really wouldn't know.'

  'It might be advisable to find out. If not, I know a very good man.' Her voice faded as they went out. Then Gerry put her head back round the door. 'Who do you want to see next?'

  'Who would you see next?'

  She thought. 'Tommy, I think - see if he confirms he
r story.'

  'Then Mr Lambert it'll be.'

  'OK.' This time she finally disappeared, closing the door.

  Leather had put down his pencil with relief.

  'Blimey, what a load of double-Dutch! I couldn't make any sense of it when she started, could you?'

  'Not a lot, but we got there at the end.'

  'But wouldn't it have been quicker just to say you didn't know what she was talking about and ask her to spell it all out in words of one syllable? Instead of going all round the houses, trying to find out who Marion was without actually asking her, for instance.'

  'Oo, you don't ever want to let them know there are things you don't understand, Jack, unless it absolutely can't be helped. Things you don't know, yes, but you've got to let them see you take in everything they tell you right away. Besides, I'm a detective. I'm supposed to deduce things. Anyway, we're not in any hurry. This is a very nice place to conduct an investigation. And with luck they'll give us a very nice lunch.'

  Leather was flexing his fingers. 'I'll be getting writer's cramp if they all go on at that rate.'

  'Get it all?'

  'No. Not all the psychic claptrap, but enough, I think.'

  'You don't believe in poltergeists, then, Jack?'

  'No fear. You don't, surely?' He took out a penknife and started sharpening his pencil.

  'Dunno. Some pretty astute people have vouched for 'em. I've read some very weird accounts. And if it wasn't a poltergeist, how do you account for the armour toppling over like it did?'

  'Could have been badly positioned on its plinth. Someone might have touched it yesterday afternoon, pushed it another half inch, so it was just on the verge of falling. Could have happened the first time anybody came in, opened and closed the door, caused a draught. Something like that.'

  'Mm. Maybe. Can't see it's got any connection with the murder, either way.'

  There came a cheerful-sounding, rhythmic tap-a-tap-tap on the door.

  'Come in.'

  It opened and Tommy entered. 'What-ho. Wanted to see me?'

  'Yes, come in, Mr Lambert.'

  With a not very successful attempt at nonchalance, Tommy strolled over to the table, sat down and leaned back. 'Mind if I smoke?'

  'Not at all, sir.'

  He took out a pack of Gold Flake, extracted and lit one. 'Oh, sorry, have one?'

  'No thank you, sir.'

  Tommy proffered the pack to Leather, who shook his head.

  'So I'm in for the jolly old third degree, am I?'

  'Hardly that, sir. Just a few questions.'

  'Fire away.'

  'Let's get a secondary matter out of the way before we start discussing the actual murder. We've been talking to Miss Mackenzie and we seem to have an eye-witness account of the armour falling over. I understand she told you about it.'

  'Yes. Quite spooky, eh?'

  'Keen on psychic research, are you, Mr Lambert?'

  'What? No, not really. Just showed a friendly interest, you know.'

  'So much so that she told you about her plans beforehand, even invited you to join her.'

  'That's right. Not really my cup of tea, though.'

  'So you were in bed when the crash occurred, were you?'

  'Actually, not exactly, no.'

  'Not exactly? Oh, you mean you were half in and half out, or sitting on the edge, prior to getting in?'

  'No. Actually, when I say not exactly, I actually mean not at all, if you see what I mean.'

  'Not really, sir, you'll have to bear with me. So, where were you - er, actually?'

  'I was in the art gallery, act— as a matter of fact.'

  'What, at the same time as Miss Mackenzie?'

  'That's right.'

  'But she said she was on her own, that she'd asked you to take part but you'd refused.'

  'She didn't know I was there. I was sort of hiding.'

  'Sort of hiding where?'

  'The far side of that sofa, to the left of the armour.'

  Leather looked up, an expression of deep satisfaction on his face, then quickly returned to his notebook.

  And she didn't see you?' Wilkins said incredulously. 'I wouldn't have thought that sofa would have been big enough to conceal you, you being so tall.'

  'Well, I had to curl up into a pretty tight ball and keep absolutely still. I dare say if she'd looked straight in my direction she might have spotted me, and obviously she would have if she'd turned to the left when she came in. But she'd told me earlier about something she called a cold spot towards the other end and that was where she was going to set up the thingamy board. So I thought there was a fair chance she wouldn't see me.'

  'But what was the point?'

  Tommy's embarrassment was becoming visibly more acute by the second. He took a nervous pull on the cigarette. 'Look, this is bally awkward. I know it sounds awful, but the whole thing was a practical joke. On her, Miss Mackenzie. The truth is that I - I was responsible for the crash. I made the armour topple over.'

  'Is that so? I think you'd better tell us the whole story, Mr Lambert.'

  'OK. Well, as I say, as soon as Mackenzie told me about her plan, I thought it would be a lark to give her a bit of a shock. I'd had a look in the gallery in the afternoon and I'd seen the armour and noticed the sofa and it occurred to me that if the armour came crashing down just when she was in the middle of her spook-hunt it might really give her something to think about, don't you know. Now I know it sounds dashed unkind, might have given her a heart attack, or anything, and I feel pretty ashamed of myself now. Anyway, what happened was that after I'd gone to my room at about twenty past eleven or so, I undressed, put on my pyjamas and dressing gown, and had a read and a smoke for half an hour or so. Then at about quarter to twelve, I got a length of string, went to the gallery and tied one end of it round the armour. I played the string out until it reached the far end of the sofa. Then I went back to the door, turned the lights out, made my way over to the sofa again, with the help of my lighter, and crouched down beside it. Then I just waited. After about quarter of an hour or so, Mackenzie came in, messed around for a bit and then started her "Is there anybody there?" rigmarole. I thought that would be a good time to give her an answer, so I just gave the string a tug - and the armour went crashing down. It made an enormous noise, even made me jump. I heard Mackenzie give a shriek and go scuttling out. I waited just long enough to grab up the string and then hared it back to my room. That's about it, really. Sorry and all that.'

  Wilkins eyed him. 'You must have realised you were going to wake up the household.'

  'Not really. First of all, I didn't realise quite what a big bang it was going to make. But the floor's very hard, and that gallery's a big place with nothing much in it, so there's a sort of echo. What's more, I knew how thick the walls and doors are here, but I didn't see the open fanlight over the door, which let the sound carry much farther. Oh, I thought it'd probably wake up Gregory the Great, who's got the room between Mackenzie and me, but that didn't bother me too much.'

  'Did you hear Miss Simmons shouting as you ran back to your room?'

  'Yes - at least, I thought it was her - and I wondered what was up.'

  'It didn't occur to you to investigate?'

  'For a second, yes. But she didn't sound frightened, just jolly ratty, as though she was having a big row. I had a girlfriend once, who used to go on at me just like that sometimes. So I thought better to leave well alone. Anyway, I stayed just inside the door of my room, keeping it open a crack, and very soon after that I heard voices and general commotion, so I joined the throng outside Clara's room and found out she'd been croaked. Jolly upsetting.'

  He stubbed out his cigarette.

  'Why didn't you tell us all this before, sir?'

  'Well, it's pretty shaming. I was hoping it wouldn't need to come out at all. After all, it's got nothing to do with the murder. I did tell you as soon as you asked.'

  'Yes, and I want to thank you for being so frank with us now, Mr Lambert.
And talking of the murder, how well did you know the deceased?'

  'Not at all. Yesterday was the first time we'd met. And we didn't exchange more than a dozen words.'

  'Yet yesterday at the reading, she said that she knew things about everybody there that would make their reputations mud, if they came out. She withdrew it later as regards the Earl and Countess and Lady Geraldine, but specifically refused to do so for the guests. So what do you reckon she knew about you?'

  'Nothing, I'm sure.'

  'Got a clear conscience, have you, Mr Lambert?'

  'Well, not exactly. I mean there are things I wouldn't want shouted from the rooftops, obviously. But nothing that would make my reputation mud. Certainly nothing it'd be worth committing a murder to keep dark. I haven't got a criminal record, or anything.'

  'Three speeding tickets in the last five years. And fined two pounds for being drunk and disorderly in the West End on New Year's Eve.'

  'Ah. Yes, of course. You looked me up. But that is all, honestly. And they'd hardly make my reputation mud, or be worth Clara's while to spread around.'

  'So you think she was bluffing?'

  'Must have been, in my case.'

  'Did you see her yesterday, after the scene in the library?'

  'No, not for a second.'

  'Did you hear or see anything in any way suspicious or odd?'

  'Not a thing. And I've really been racking my brains - what there are of them.'

  'Ever heard of a Miss Dora Lethbridge?'

  Tommy shook his head.

  'Well, I don't think we need keep you any longer, for now, Mr Lambert.' Wilkins repeated what he had said to Miss Mackenzie about a statement and fingerprints.

  'Yes, of course. Only too glad to help in any way possible. And, by the way, does Mackenzie have to know - about what I did, I mean? Can you just let her go on thinking it was a poltergeist?'

  'We'll see, Mr Lambert. I won't reveal it unless it becomes necessary.'

  'Thanks.'

  'Perhaps you'd kindly ask Miss Simmons to step in next.'

  'Righty-ho.'

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Stella was the first person to enter the room with an air of complete confidence. She sat down, folded her hands on the table and smiled at Wilkins enquiringly.