Dead Mrs Stratton (Jumping Jenny) rs-9

by Anthony Berkeley

  In the meantime the party, relieved of Ena Stratton's blighting presence, went on with renewed vigour; dancing was resumed, those who wanted to do so stood in little groups and discussed, with the academic ferocity appropriate to two a.m., such questions as interested them, and everything in the ballroom was harmony.

  At a quarter past two David Stratton joined his brother and Roger, who happened to be together at the bar, and announced that he thought he must be pushing off.

  "Don't go yet, David. Everyone will think they ought to go too, if they see you slinking away."

  "I think I'd better."

  "If you're thinking of Ena, much better leave her alone for a bit longer. She'll take it out on you as usual if you get back before she's safely asleep."

  "Still," said David, with a rueful smile, "I think I'd better, if you don't mind."

  "All right, if you really mean it. Anyhow, good luck."

  "Thanks. I'll probably need it. Good - night, Sheringham."

  When he had gone, Ronald sighed.

  "I'm afraid the poor lad's in for a nasty quarter of an hour."

  "But he didn't do anything."

  "Oh, that doesn't matter. He's always the scapegoat when that maniac of a woman doesn't think she's had enough admiration. David's such a good chap, and she leads him an absolute dog's life. Oh, well, thank heaven I'm a bachelor."

  "Very temporarily, though?"

  "Oh, very," said Ronald with a laugh.

  "Once a married man, always a married man, I'm afraid," Roger said compassionately. "Both you and your brother are marrying types, aren't you?"

  "Yes, I suppose so," Ronald agreed and swallowed a sip of his whiskey - and - soda. "Poor David, though. A first marriage should never be binding."

  Roger, who had heard something like this already during the evening, knew what line to take. "One develops," he said tactfully.

  "Yes, of course. But apart from that one hasn't the knowledge of the other sex. An experienced man might have seen through Ena during the engagement and been able to save his soul; David was far too green. And now that he has . . ."

  "Seen through her?"

  "No, met the girl who would be exactly right for him. Yes, it's very tough luck."

  "There's no chance of a friendly divorce?"

  "None. Ena would certainly never agree. She's got her bird in its cage, and it wouldn't be she who'd ever open the door. So David hasn't approached her on the topic at all. She'd only be more impossible than ever if she knew he was in love with someone else. I don't know why I'm telling you all this, Sheringham."

  "You should drink beer instead of whiskey," Roger suggested.

  "Perhaps that's it. Anyhow, I apologize for inflicting all this family history on you. It can't possibly interest you."

  "On the contrary, all human relationships interest me, especially tangles. But I really am very sorry for your brother. Isn't it possible for anything to be done?"

  "Nothing short of murder," said Ronald gloomily.

  "And that," said Roger, "always does seem to me a little drastic. Well, here's luck to you, Ronald, at any rate."

  "Thanks," said Ronald, brightening. "Yes, my goodness, Sheringham, I've struck it lucky. Agatha really is . . ." His conversation threatened to become maudlin. Ronald should have stuck to beer.

  "Yes, rather," said Roger hastily. "Look here, hadn't we better be getting back to the ballroom?"

  CHAPTER IV SOMEONE IS MURDERED

  DR. PHILIP CHALMERS ran his car into the garage yard, which had once been the stable yard. His radiator had nearly boiled on the way back, and he wanted to fill it up now and not keep Lucy waiting when they came down. He had had to drive past, but not across, the big semicircle of gravel in front of the house to reach the yard, and in the moonlight had seen three cars still standing there, so evidently the party had not broken up yet. Without bothering to work it out, Dr. Chalmers knew that one of these cars must be the Mitchells', one the David Strattons', and the other the one which had brought Margot Stratton and Mike Armstrong from London, whither they were returning that night. The party therefore remained exactly as he had left it three quarters of an hour ago.

  Dr. Chalmers was a little sorry, because that meant that it would be he who would break up the gathering. Lucy would be annoyed, too, because the visit had not taken as long as he had expected; he had been only three quarters of an hour over it instead of the hour he had promised her. But that could not be helped. Dr. Chalmers was tired, and intended to get to bed as soon as he possibly could, party or no party, Lucy or no Lucy. Late hours did not suit him any longer. Dr. Chalmers mildly envied Ronald, who in spite of being three years older seemed to thrive on late hours.

  While he was filling his radiator, he heard one of the cars starting up and, a moment later, saw its tail light disappearing down the drive. That was rather a relief. He and Lucy would not now be the first to leave. As, a minute later, he passed the two remaining cars on his way to the front door, Dr. Chalmers had the curiosity to see which one it was that had gone. He noticed that it was David's. Poor David! Dr. Chalmers sighed. That damnable Ena had spoiled the evening again. Dr. Chalmers wished for the thousandth time that he could somehow wangle a certificate and get her put into an asylum; but that of course was impossible.

  The latch was still up on the front door, and Dr. Chalmers walked in. As he climbed the stairs he could hear the radio - gramophone in the ballroom. So they were still dancing. Turning the last angle of the staircase, Dr. Chalmers saw a back disappearing through the ballroom door which looked like Ronald's. He called out a greeting, but the owner of the back evidently had not heard it, for the door was closed the next instant behind him. As his head came level with the floor of the barroom Dr. Chalmers looked in there, but the room was empty. A last, very small drink would be pleasant, after his cold drive. He took a step or two into the room, and then remembered that he was still without his pipe, which he had missed badly on the journey back. He was dying for a smoke; the drink could wait. He had an idea that he had left his pipe in the sun parlour, after he had been sitting up there with Margot.

  Dr. Chalmers went up onto the roof. Any noise his footsteps might have made on the landing carpet was drowned in the music from the big gramophone, but Dr. Chalmers did not appreciate that.

  The sun parlour was apparently empty, for the lights were out. Dr. Chalmers switched them on and glanced round for his pipe. He saw, not the pipe, but Ena Stratton, lying in a basket chair and frowning at him.

  "Why, hullo, Ena," he said, in the pleasant, hearty tones with which he was accustomed to greet everyone, whether he happened to love or detest him or her. As a matter of fact Dr. Chalmers, although mildly disliking one or two people, detested only two: Ena Stratton and an aunt of his wife's. He was a tolerant man.

  "Hullo, Phil," said Ena flatly.

  Dr. Chalmers gave his useless arm a twitch so as to lodge the hand in his dinner - jacket pocket and smiled in a friendly way. The more he disliked a person, the more careful he was to smile at her in a friendly way. "I thought you and David had gone. Wasn't it David's car that drove away just now?"

  "Was it? I daresay."

  "Anything the matter?" asked Dr. Chalmers, smiling more amicably than ever.

  "Oh David and Ronald between them threw me out of the ballroom just after you'd gone. I don't know whether you call that anything," said Ena, in a martyr's voice.

  "Threw you out? Oh, come, Ena; that can't be quite accurate, surely."

  Ena's scanty bosom heaved. "That's right. Now you begin, Phil. Go on, call me a liar."

  "My dear girl, I have no intention of calling you a liar. But I can't believe that you're not exaggerating a little when you say Ronald and David threw you out of the ballroom."

  "Then ask anyone else who was there. They did. They picked me up by the head and the heels and carried me across the room. My God, I tell you, I've had about enough. I'm not going to stand it much longer, Phil."

  "But if they did carry you
across the room, it must have been only in fun?"

  "Oh, no, it wasn't. They may have pretended it was, but it wasn't. They wanted to get rid of me. Ronald especially. He's been publicly insulting me all the evening. Even you must have noticed that. I tell you, Phil, I'm not going to stand that kind of treatment. Ronald needn't think he's going to get away with that kind of thing from me. In front of all those grinning apes . . ."

  Dr. Chalmers may have meant well, but his tact was not always very tactful. "I expect we've all had a little too much to drink this evening," said Dr. Chalmers, smiling pleasantly. "You'll feel different about it in the morning, Ena."

  "If you mean I'm drunk," Ena said indignantly, "I'm not. I only wish I were. Heaven knows I've tried hard enough this evening, but it just seems as if my head were cast iron. I simply can't get drunk; so it's no good saying that, Phil."

  "But why on earth did you want to get drunk?"

  "Because getting drunk," explained Mrs. Stratton with dignity, "is the only thing worth while. In a life such as I have to lead, getting drunk is the only thing that's real."

  "Oh, rubbish," said Dr. Chalmers, far too robustly.

  Mrs. Stratton rolled her eyes. "You can say that, of course. You just don't happen to know me, that's all - not the real me."

  Dr. Chalmers dropped into a chair. He knocked out the pipe he had retrieved and refilled it.

  "Now look here, Ena, aren't you talking a little wildly? I'm quite sure Ronald hadn't the slightest wish to get rid of you, nor David. If they really did pick you up, then it must have been just horseplay. You mustn't take that sort of thing seriously, you know." Dr. Chalmers's voice was quite treacly with soothing syrup.

  "Ronald will find he's got to take me seriously," said Ena, setting her mouth like a rat trap.

  "How do you mean?"

  "I could make things very awkward for Ronald. Very awkward. And that's just what I intend to do."

  "But how?"

  "I don't like that woman he thinks he's going to marry, Mrs. Lefroy."

  "Oh, don't you? I think she's particularly charming."

  "Yes, no doubt. It takes a woman to see through her type. I call her a bad lot."

  "Really, Ena, you mustn't say that kind of thing, you know."

  Ena began to breathe more quickly. "I shall say exactly what I like. I shall say what I think. Mrs. Lefroy isn't the kind of woman whom I intend to have as a sister - in - law."

  "But why?"

  "She's been extremely rude to me this evening."

  "Oh, come, Ena, I'm sure she didn't mean to be."

  "Oh, yes, she did. Do you think I don't know?"

  "But what has she done?"

  "Nothing! That's just the point. She just nodded to me, in the most offhand way, when we arrived, and hasn't spoken a word to me all the evening. If she thinks she can treat me like that, she's quite mistaken."

  "Ena, you're exaggerating again."

  "I tell you I'm not, Phil. I know. Margot was bad enough, but this woman's worse. But I can get my own back on them. They'll soon see that."

  "What are you thinking of doing, Ena?" Dr. Chalmers asked, relighting his pipe.

  "It's not what I'm thinking of doing, it's what I'm jolly well going to do. I'm going to write to the King's Proctor about the two of them."

  "Oh, nonsense, Ena. You can't do a thing like that."

  "Can't I? They'll very soon see whether I can or not. No, it's no good you saying anything, Phil. I've been thinking about it, up here, and I've made up my mind. It's simply horrible the way they go on. Somebody ought to stop it in any case."

  "But, my dear girl, you've nothing to go on. This is only guesswork. You've no evidence."

  Ena uttered a hard little bray of a laugh. "Oh, yes, I have. I'm afraid they'll be surprised, but I have. And evidence that they won't be able to explain away, either."

  "But how could you possibly have got it?"

  "Never mind that, Phil; I've got it. And I'm going to use it. You can tell Ronald so, if you like. I don't care. If he thinks he can treat me like that in public, he'll find he's very much mistaken."

  Dr. Chalmers sighed. The emollient did not seem to have acted. "You'll feel quite different in the morning, Ena. Believe me, you will."

  "Then I don't believe you, Phil," said Mrs. Stratton shortly.

  Dr. Chalmers sighed again. He did not believe himself either.

  Mrs. Stratton's bosom began to heave once more. "And as for David ..."

  "Yes?" asked Dr. Chalmers, disguising with difficulty his apprehension.

  Mrs. Stratton sat for a moment or two in silence, while the heaving of her bosom grew more and more tumultuous. Then she almost threw herself round in her chair and burst out: "What do you know about David and that Griffiths creature?"

  "Elsie Griffiths? Why, nothing. What is there to know?"

  "But you know all right which of the Griffiths girls it is, don't you?" cried Ena with bitter triumph.

  "My dear Ena, I simply don't know what you're talking about."

  "Oh, yes, you do, Phil, so you needn't put on that damned smooth voice any longer. Everyone's known about it, I expect, except me. That's always the way, isn't it? The wife hears last of all." Ena began to laugh shrilly.

  "Ena," said Dr. Chalmers most impressively, "if you're suggesting that there's anything at all between David and Elsie Griffiths, I can assure you you're absolutely mistaken."

  "Oh, you can, can you? And how do you happen to know there isn't, Phil?"

  "I'm quite certain there isn't."

  "Then you're wrong, because there is. My God, when I think of all I've done for David . . . But if that little cat thinks she's going to get him . . . Oh, really, Phil, it's terribly funny, when one comes to think of it, isn't it? Terribly funny!"

  "Ena, you're getting hysterical," Dr. Chalmers said, with professional sharpness.

  "I don't care. Why shouldn't I? I've had enough to make me. I've had a terrible evening, Phil. You must have seen how rude Ronald's been to me all the time. And horrible men trying to make love to me." She looked expectantly at Dr. Chalmers.

  "Oh?" said that gentleman, warily.

  "Yes. My God, Phil, why can't men leave a woman alone? Really, you're the only decent one of the lot. It's simply disgusting."

  "Who's been trying to make love to you, Ena?"

  "Oh, everyone. They always do. I suppose there must be something about me . . . Good heavens, I wish there wasn't. That horrible Mr. Williamson . . ."

  "Oh, yes?" said Dr. Chalmers with great heartiness. "What did he do?"

  "He tried to make me sit on his knee. In here. It was frightfully awkward. And Mr. Sheringham was worse. Really, Phil, I can't think how Ronald could have invited him. He's the most disgusting man I've ever met. I simply had to fight him to get away."

  "You do have a tough time with the lads, don't you, Ena?" said Dr. Chalmers.

  "With all except you," said Mrs. Stratton seriously. "You've never tried to make love to me, Phil. I wonder why you haven't."

  This time Dr. Chalmers was a little more tactful. "David happens to be a friend of mine, Ena."

  "Yes," agreed Mrs. Stratton mournfully. - 'You're terribly fond of David, aren't you, Phil?"

  "He's always been my best friend," said Dr. Chalmers, with hearty lack of emotion.

  "It must be wonderful to be a man and be able to have a real friend," regretted Mrs. Stratton.

  "Yes, I expect it is."

  The conversation then paused, apparently for contemplation by Mrs. Stratton of her feminine handicap. Then she leaned a little towards her companion. "I don't think David would mind in the least, you know, Phil. Not now."

  "Mind what?"

  "Your making love to me," said Ena, in a small but hopeful voice.

  Dr. Chalmers realized that he had already been labelled as suffering from a hopeless passion for his companion, which only masculine loyalty withheld him from voicing. He was in something of a difficulty. Ena was usually ready to pay attention to
him, he knew; so far as she could respect anyone besides herself, she respected him. He had not yet given up all hope of persuading her to take no steps in the two matters in which her emotions were involved. But to do so, he must reduce her to softer mood. That Ronald had wanted to get rid of her, and had let her see it quite plainly, he was perfectly ready to believe; Ronald was not tactful. Ena's amour - propre, that tender plant, had been badly damaged. He was being offered the chance of administering a little nourishment to it in the obvious and traditional way.

  Dr. Chalmers, however, was a cautious man. He never acted on impulse. Before taking action, he would weigh the fors and againsts not once but several times. It is possible that had he been a little less deliberate, he might have shut his eyes, taken a deep breath, and proceeded to administer the more practical rehabilitation for which he was being asked. As it was, consideration showed him that to embrace Ena Stratton would probably make him physically ill. He therefore contented himself, but not her, with reaching out his sound hand, patting her paternally on the shoulder, and saying with bluff joviality:

  "Nonsense, Ena. Of course David would mind. Besides, you know you wouldn't like me to do anything of the sort. Would you? It would spoil - h'm! - everything."

  Ena paused for a moment. Then she nodded solemnly.

  "Yes, Phil. You're quite right. I shouldn't like it at all. Oh, dear, how I wish all men were like you."

  "You mustn't say that," said Dr. Chalmers, much encouraged. "I don't expect they're so bad really, you know. Anyhow, Ena, I want you to do me a favour. Will you?"

  "What, Phil?"

  Dr. Chalmers laid his pipe on the table beside him and spoke with deliberation.

  "I want you to give up this idea of writing to the King's Proctor about Ronald, and I want you to put quite out of your head this idea about David and Elsie Griffiths, and not say a word to him about it. You'll only upset him very much, you know, without any cause at all."