Murder By Suspects: The Novella Range

by Ian Shimwell

  A civilian who was laughing at me. I gritted my teeth to control my rage.

  The Inspector continued in a teasing manner. “I must congratulate you on solving my case so quickly and easily.”

  With dignity, I faced his mocking manner with the contempt it deserved. “I was only trying to be helpful.”

  “Of course you were.” Oh so suddenly, the Inspector’s face darkened. “Then help me with this. Mr Lloyd has informed me that your Leave has now extended to three months. Is that correct?”

  “Yes,” I frowned, I didn’t like where this was heading.

  “So our friend does tell the truth sometimes then. Can you tell me why you are enjoying such a long holiday?”

  I ignored the impertinence, and answered the question. “The last conflict I was involved with was particularly bloody and brutal. This time away from the Front Line is intended to heal the wounds.”

  “Both physical and mental,” the Inspector mused. “How interesting…”

  I shut my eyes to stop myself even thinking about it. When I opened them, the Inspector had gone.

  The following day I went on a brisk early morning walk. Although it was nearly midday when my thoughts disciplined themselves into cohesive patterns.

  I was approaching the front gardens of the house when I wondered whether it was usual for the Inspector and his Constable to actually sleep with the suspects, so to speak. I supposed though that the sheer remoteness of Three Sisters meant that this was a practical necessity.

  I was about to enter the gardens when I noticed movement in the nearby stables. I ventured nearer to discover that my Susanna was grooming her favourite horse.

  “Just returned from one of my walks, my sweet,” I smiled.

  “I wondered what you were doing, but now I know.”

  I frowned, searching for a sense of sarcasm but she offered me her hand and allowed me to kiss it to dispel my suspicion. “Have you seen the Inspector today?”

  “Not as yet, but that is probably because I’ve been here at the stables all morning.”

  The sun was now shining right through her flowing, light auburn hair creating a warm, almost sensuous, glowing effect. It was a shame her eyes seemed troubled and her expression preoccupied.

  “Good,” I said. “The Inspector seems to be on the warpath of late and I don’t want him to upset you.”

  Susanna patted her horse which strangely seemed to resist slightly. “There is no need to worry dearest, I can handle the Inspector.”

  “But can you handle Roger? I don’t trust him.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “You see my sweet…” Again I noticed the vacant expression. Although I suspect the shock of her sister’s death has made her worse of late. “If the Inspector’s assumption is correct and there are no outsiders involved, then Roger is obviously the murderer in my book.”

  “Obviously,” Susanna repeated abstractly but then shook her head slightly, I suspect to clear her thoughts and compose herself. “The problem is dearest, I venture that it is not our opinion that counts but the Inspector’s.”

  “I know,” I said as I slammed my hand against the stable door. “Our fates are to be decided by an impertinent civilian!

  The rest of the afternoon seemed to drift by. My Susanna kept herself busy with her horses. Roger interestingly was always in a different room to the one I happened to be residing in. When I did catch up with the blighter he claimed he had some ‘urgent business’ to attend to. If I did not know better, I would suggest he was avoiding me. The trouble was that I did know better. I had not seen the Constable all day either. The good Inspector had been snooping about upstairs for what seemed like an age.

  At that moment, I heard an undignified crashing sound from upstairs. I bounded up the stairs to discover the cause of this God-awful disturbance.

  I opened Roger’s bedroom door to see the Inspector kneeling behind a fallen wardrobe. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?” I enquired with annoyance.

  “Looking for clues; incriminating evidence – that sort of thing. Does that surprise you?” Unperturbed, the Inspector then set about searching through a chest of drawers.

  “Damn it man,” I stated forcibly. “Have you no respect for privacy, even Roger’s?”

  “No, not in this circumstance and before you ask, I have thoroughly searched yours and your good lady’s rooms.”

  My hands opened in anger. “Why, I ought to…”

  “…strangle me?” The Inspector then noticed a slight ridge in the carpet behind the chest of drawers.

  “…report you manner to your superiors. Why can’t you be as polite as your Constable? Where is he, by the way?”

  I saw the Inspector peel part of the carpet away. “He is presently making discreet enquiries in the nearest village.”

  “I thought you dismissed the idea of an outsider being responsible.”

  “We check and double-check every eventuality, Captain.” The Inspector stood up holding a wooden box that he had removed from beneath the floorboards. “He will also be visiting the Station to receive information on various reports and conduct background checks on certain suspects.” He opened the box and a pair of fine leather gloves fell to the floor. Regretfully though, they were covered, and dripping, in blood.

  My hands covered my eyes in absolute horror. My stiff upper-lip snapped. I am ashamed to say that I curled up into a ball, and began squealing.

  THREE

  Extract from Roger Lloyd’s Correspondence

  Letter to Charles, my business partner

  Without hesitation, Charlie boy - without hesitation. Our friends in the city don’t know we’ve been losing money lately and that we are bit short of the old crinkly paper. We must speculate to accumulate. Tell our brokers to invest in the stocks. By the time they will want the money, I should be finished in my little venture down here. By then our financial hiccup will be nothing more than a bad memory like a bitter after-taste. We’ll be laughing about this in the Club when yours truly is back, drinking champagne, you’ll see.

  Back to my get-rich-quick plot here at Three Sisters. As you know, there has been a slight complication, Charlie boy. The so-called sweet, innocent little sister of this sickeningly rich family has been unceremoniously murdered. It is such a shame and damned inconvenient. I was just about to persuade her to invest a small fortune in our little enterprise. So, it’s onto my next target: her sister, Susanna. I know she has the hots for me. I’ll pick up the story just after I cracked the jezebel in the Stables of all places.

  I was just straightening my tie while Susanna was buttoning up the front of her dress. She then plucked some hay from her luscious hair. The nearby steed looked at us and I could have sworn it winked.

  “That was an awfully thrilling experience,” I ventured. “I never thought of bringing your sister here.”

  It was as if a dark cloud had moved across her face. “Do not be so ridiculous. She would not even think such a thing. She is gloriously above a sordid liaison in a stable.”

  “Louisa?” I questioned incredulously. “You would be surprised what she was capable of.”

  The cloud had been swept aside leaving behind a cold front. “Oh you mean Louisa,” Susanna said confusedly.

  At that precise moment, the Stable door opened and a certain Inspector marched in.

  “No, don’t tell me,” he said confidently. I noticed there was one strand still in her hair. “That you’ve been comforting each other.”

  He probably drew his own conclusions at our sheepish expressions. He then suggested that I follow him to the Drawing Room presently. The pompous Peeler claimed he had something of the utmost importance to show me.

  So there he is, old Charlie boy. This Inspector ‘I’m in charge’ Mackenzie is the reason I’m stuck here while he completes his tedious enquiries. I felt my lips twitch into a familiar smug smile. There was one advantage. It gave me more time to work on Susanna. The gal was clearly unstable but I could use that t
o my advantage too.

  Once into the Drawing Room, the Inspector pointed to a small wooden box that was resting on the grand, ornate table. Susanna had followed us in. Her curiosity was obviously aroused. Aroused yes, thinking back to the Stables, I again smiled.

  “My Lloyd, if you would be so kind, open the box for me please.” Correct me if I’m wrong, Charlie, but I am sure the Inspector has a touch of the grandiose about him.

  Of course, I duly obliged. I lifted the lid to discover – shock, horror – that my leather gloves were there, covered in blood.

  “Inspector, I cannot thank you enough. You’ve found my gloves,” I said majestically.

  “You don’t deny they are yours then?” he questioned.

  “Naturally not. They are my hunting gloves. After the nasty fox had been torn to shreds, I always examine the old carcass.”

  “Any particular reason?”

  “To make sure it’s dead?” I countered mischievously. By Jove Charlie boy, I was enjoying this.

  The Inspector replaced the lid and picked up the box. “Then why go through the rigmarole of hiding the blessed thing underneath your carpet?”

  I decided that this particular game was up Charlie, and for once came clean. “I thought it would be amusing for you to find it and jump to the wrong conclusion.” I saw the annoyance on his face so I continued, “I’m sorry but I have to have a bit of fun. It was an awfully good wheeze, don’t you think?”

  My answer came from the Inspector’s action He thrust the box down upon the floor. It shattered, a droplet of blood landed on Susanna’s neck. Her finger smeared the blood. She placed it in her mouth and licked the blood off.

  Apparently ignoring our Susanna’s strange actions, the Inspector said, “Your wheeze, as you so trivially put it, did not fool me for one moment. Even I know that if a person is strangled, the gloves would not usually be drenched in blood.” A self-satisfied expression of touché confronted me.

  Susanna, whom was appearing increasingly ‘out of it’, suddenly said, “Where is John?”

  “Oh, he’s taken an early-evening nap,” replied the Inspector.

  “How unusual,” I commented.

  “He must have gone on an awfully long walk this morning.” Try as I might, I simply could not resist a wry smile. Although, as I looked into the Inspector’s thunderous eyes, I realised that he would take a great pleasure in wiping that smile away.

  Assuming that old bore would be safely tucked up in bed all night, I let my dapper down. As we quite often enjoy in the Club Charlie boy, I was sipping a sherry, sat opposite the roaring fire as the evening wore on. Then, guess who spoilt my richly deserved tranquillity? Correct, that pompous military twit, Captain John Williams.

  “Damn it man,” he said as he stormed in. “I want a word with you.”

  “I gather so, old Johnny boy. Care for a sherry?” As I offered him a glass, I was quite taken aback when I saw his face. His usual bluster had gone. His colour drained, leaving a worrying expression.

  Ignoring my offer, the Captain exclaimed: “I demand a straight answer man. Have you been seeing my Susanna?”

  Smiling, I relaxed in my armchair even more. “Of course I am, old boy. I’m seeing her quite often at the moment with us all stuck here.” It seemed the old sod was about to explode with rage, so I added, “Do sit down, you’re making me nervous.”

  Despite himself, Captain John did sit down and belatedly but gracefully accepted my offer of a drink.

  “Well?” he asked a tad more calmly. “I saw you and my Susanna in an embrace yesterday in the Conservatory.”

  My deeply sincere expression leaped into life. “Do give me some credit, John. As you was well aware she was awfully upset, I was just…” Try as I might Charlie, I simply could not think of an original word so, rather irritatingly, I was forced to use the Inspector’s favourite term. “…comforting her.”

  Captain John seemed then to suddenly give up. “In that case Roger, I offer my sincerest apologies.”

  “Accepted without question, old man.” I sensed that his armour was down. Could he be vulnerable to some gentle persuasion? “The last few days, John has been a shocking experience for all of us. What you need is something to take your mind off the peculiar situation we find ourselves in.”

  The Captain placed his empty glass on the table. “Tear on.”

  “I’m about to invest in some gilt stocks. One of my reliable contacts has informed me that they are about to rocket. Care to invest with me and at least double your money in just a few days?”

  As I thought, he shook his head. “I have, had, have…” he corrected himself, “…other more pressing matters of late – like murder.”

  I couldn’t resist the obvious question so I asked, “Who do you think murdered Louisa?”

  His eyes darted about furtively. I knew he suspected me. Did he have the Gaul to admit it or was he a coward?

  “You were the last person seen with her, Roger,” he said slightly surprising me, but the coward was still unable to directly point the finger.

  “Not necessarily so, Johnny boy. I first thought I was, but then realised that the last person to see Louisa alive was, of course, the murderer. Maybe that was you, old boy?” My mouth decided to twitch mischievously. “You liked Louisa, didn’t you?”

  He swept his hair back in that annoying habit of his. “Of course I did, she was a damn fine young woman. Too good for the likes of…”

  “Me,” I finished for him. “I believe I’m not making myself clear. I believe you more than like Louisa. She sometimes spoke of it.”

  The rage returned and Captain stood up in a rare old fury. “Now that is a damned lie,” he fumed.

  This time I stood up and met him with a steely gaze. “Then may I suggest that you reconsider my business proposition, and then we can all calm down.”

  I noticed his hands unclenching. “Why I ought to… I ought to…”

  “…strangle me? Go ahead old man. I’ll even lend you my leather gloves for the job.”

  Captain Williams stormed out of the Parlour; the strange thing was though that he seemed to shy away, as though he was too frightened to even look at me.

  I sat back down, looking at the fire. The flames merging into one. My hand covered my mouth but my shoulders were heaving. I began laughing quite loudly. I’ve not had this much fun for years, Charlie boy!

  I swear they were taking turns Charlie, because later in the evening, Susanna entered the fray. The sherry decanter was empty so I went to the trouble of fetching another one.

  Susanna smiled tentatively as she sat close to me. The sherry smiling in those long, delicate fingers.

  “I hate to be boring, my dear, but before our ‘meeting’ at the Stables; you were considering a very favourable investment opportunity, as I remember.” I know, Charlie I know. Someone will crack soon. I promise you.

  She moved slightly away from me. “Is that all you are interested in? Did I not mean anything to you?”

  I held her resisting hand. “You mean an awful lot to me. But what about the grand old Captain?”

  “John is an honourable man, if a trifle dull. When he is promoted, I shall be able to socialise in an altogether higher circle of acquaintances.”

  I held her hand more tightly, emphasising the fact she would not escape me so easily. “Therefore, my dear, it is awfully important that Johnny boy never finds out about us.”

  I momentarily relaxed my grip, and Susanna, like a coiling snake, quickly withdrew her hand. There was a burning in her eyes. It was something more than just a reflection of the flames from the ebbing fire.

  “May I suggest Roger, that it would be very unwise to cross me,” she said in an awfully strange manner.

  How dare she? I have crossed swords with many a fellow. As you know Charlie, I have never lost a duel yet and despite her bravado, I could tell she was about to crack.

  Unfortunately the Inspector put paid to me pressing home my advantage. He strode into the room,
followed by the Constable, whom had obviously returned from the village and a certain Captain.

  The Inspector stood, centre stage, and spoke to his audience. “Constable Smith brings some rather disturbing news.”

  The grim silence propelled the Inspector to impart his revelation. “That the poor Louisa was also, tragically, with child.”

  I looked at the shocked faces all around me Charlie, and said the only thing I could say under the circumstances:

  “Anyone for a sherry?”

  FOUR

  Extract from Inspector Mackenzie’s Report

  My Final Report

  Without hesitation, I told the three suspects the news that my trusty Constable had gathered his information from the Coroner’s Report. Of course, I was awaiting any sort of reaction from the assemble. As I suspected, each reaction was supressed by each of their highly polished veneers. Soon it would be time to scratch right beneath the surface.

  I attempted to resist the temptation of being overtly melodramatic but succumbed to it anyway. I summoned messes Williams, Lloyd and Miss Saunderson to meet me in the Study at precisely midnight. The bewitching hour indeed.

  The old grandfather clock had struck its twelve chimes. I was sat down in the Study. The grand desk lay before me, my faithful Constable stood behind me. The leather-bound volumes adorned the walls and the three usual suspects sat facing me. It was time to begin.

  “The murder of Louisa Saunderson. We are all here to discover the identity of the person responsible for this heinous crime.”

  I first looked to Miss Saunderson. Her vacant expression shook back to reality. “Were you jealous of your sister?” She hesitated so I clarified the matter. “I am referring to Louisa.”

  “I loved my sister Louisa. Why would I be envious of her?”

  My hands rested on the desk, thoughtfully. “She was walking out with Mr Lloyd here. You know, the man whom comforts you an awful lot.”