by Bruce, Leo
“In Richard’s case it was strange because he wasn’t brought up by the Drumbone as Keith was. Richard was thirty-two when I married him a year ago and his mother had been dead only four years. Yet he was the most under the old girl’s thumb of any of them. No, that’s not right. They weren’t under her thumb exactly but they—made her the centre of things, if you know what I mean. Richard particularly.”
“I can guess, I think.”
“He was so good-natured. He’d do anything for anyone. If old Drumbone wanted to be treated like a Grand Duchess she had to have it. He would no more refuse her that than the loan of his car. But I must say it began to bore me. I didn’t want to be a member of any family. I’d had enough of that with my own. So I began to … rebel. I can’t find the words I want this evening. This vol-au-vent’s hell, isn’t it? ”
“Hell,” agreed Carolus. “Never mind the exact words. I understand your meaning perfectly.”
“I mean I began to behave badly. Do things on my own. Show them all that I was not one of them. I loved Richard but I hated his … conformity. Running round to see poor Olivia. She’d been ‘poor Olivia’ ever since her husband was killed and she traded on it. The perpetual widow. Richard visited her as though he was visiting the sick, and she’s a strapping girl who ought to have married again. Keith I didn’t mind so much, though he was always coming to Richard for advice, or with schemes for something he wanted to write or paint or compose. But he at least had manners, not like that dreary son of Alan’s. He’s eighteen, spotty and self-opinionated. When the grammar school opened here Alan took him away from Lancing and sent him to the local school to ‘help start it’. That was Drumbone’s idea, I think. Wait till you see the cocky young brute. He slopes about in his school cap with a pair of shaded glasses which looks absurd to start with. Richard talked music with him and gave him gramophone records. I wanted to clock him.
“Then with Alan himself he was far too generous. Alan’s all right, but he has never quite grown up. And I can’t stand Anita, who is a common little bitch trying to imitate her husband’s aunt. Richard wanted me to be friends with her. Can you wonder that I got out of line? ”
“Like most people,” smiled Carolus, “I’ve had my experience of families.”
“They’re misery. Always. I can’t eat this chicken, I’m afraid. I think it’s a pterodactyl.”
“I’m not making much progress with the Queue de Boeuf Florentine”
“Taste nasty? ”
“No. It doesn’t taste at all. Been in the tin too long. Let’s have some coffee and brandy.”
“Anyhow brandy.”
“Please go on with what you were saying about families.”
“It was a pity, really, because Richard and I might have made a success of marriage if we’d been left to ourselves. But we never were. However, I’m not going to make excuses. Ten day ago I went off with a man called Sandy Rothsay.”
There was a long silence. Pippa drank most of her brandy.
“I don’t know how much you want to hear about that,” she said.
“I don’t know how much is relevant.”
She gave him a rather sad smile.
“Nor do I, quite. Perhaps I’ll just say it was a failure. You’d better meet him for yourself if you want to know why. He blamed Lady Drumbone, rather unfairly, I think. ‘While that old bitch is there,’ Sandy said, ‘shell never let you escape her damned family.’ He was very bitter about it.”
“Did Richard know you were with him? ”
“Yes. I wrote and told him. But I didn’t tell him why I’d left him. It was not so clear to me then.”
“You don’t know how Richard took it? ”
“Yes. Alan has told me. It’s most unflattering. He was quite calm about it. Almost his only comment to Alan was ‘Oh, she’ll come back’. What could be more maddening? Because, of course, I did come back. At least, I meant to.”
“Before you come to that, to Saturday evening, I mean, will you tell me a little about Richard. Was he never violent? In any way? ”
“Never. The most easy-going person with everyone. That’s what annoyed me, I think. I simply could not make him angry. He was so forgiving, you know—not in a self-righteous way, but by nature. That’s what makes that damned tape-recording so impossible to believe. You’re probably tired of hearing everyone say Richard couldn’t have done it.”
“Yet there it is.”
“The only possible explanation is some sort of schizophrenia. I never saw any sign of it, though. Could it suddenly take possession of someone? ”
“I don’t know. I’m not a pyschiatrist.”
“Madness, anyway. The voice was Richard’s all right, but it was not Richard speaking. Not Richard as I or anyone else knew him.”
“We’ll come to the recording presently. I only wanted to know if a violent, or hysterical, or vengeful side to his character had ever shown itself, even for a moment.”
“Never.”
Carolus ordered two more brandies.
“When did you decide to return? “he asked.
“You’ll think me idiotic, but I suppose it was as soon as I had gone away. Even before, perhaps. I mean, some part of me knew all along that it was crazy and didn’t mean anything and that I would come back. But in a practical sense, not till Saturday morning.”
“When did you arrive in Maresfield?”
“About nine p.m., I imagine.”
“Did you drive down? ”
“Yes. I suppose this will sound rather preposterous, too. I asked Sandy to drive me down. Or rather, to let me drive his car down with him in it. I loved driving that Mercedes of his. Perhaps that’s why I went away with him.”
“Are you a good driver? ”
“Mm. Mechanic, too. I’m tough, didn’t you know? ”
“And he did?”
“Yes. Why not, when you come to think of it? He’d taken me away.”
“It’s a little hard to visualize. What about your luggage, for instance? ”
“We took that to the Norfolk, where he often stays, and left it there. I hadn’t got much. I suppose that’s evidence that sub-consciously anyway I meant to return. Sandy was going straight back to London, he said. I phoned Alan.”
“You didn’t go to his home? ”
“Heavens, no. With Anita there and Charles? Charles is the overgrown schoolboy son. No, I asked Alan to come round to the Norfolk. I wanted him to see Richard before I did. I’m a bit of a coward, perhaps, but I really couldn’t arrive on the doorstep and take the risk of being politely turned away. (Oh, yes, Richard would have been polite about it.) Alan understood but said he couldn’t go that night. They had some friends to dinner and he had escaped for half an hour but had to go back. He promised me faithfully to go first thing in the morning.”
“Did you give him your latch-key? ”
Watching her carefully Carolus saw her hesitate, then speak sharply, almost defiantly.
“Yes. What about it?”
“It seems an odd thing to do. After all Richard would let him in.”
“You didn’t know Richard. I doubt if a fire alarm would have got him out of bed on a Sunday morning. Alan was going early so I insisted on his taking the key to be sure of getting in. I don’t see anything odd about it.”
“Did you stay at the Norfolk? ”
“Good gracious no. I went round to Lady Drumbone’s. That would have been the end, if she heard I had stayed in a hotel in the town. I told her I wanted to go back to Richard. She was very sensible about it and thought I had done wisely to send Alan first. Because he was one of the family, I suppose.”
“What time did you reach her flat? ”
“After Alan left me at the Norfolk I had a couple of drinks. They close at half-past ten and I asked them to phone for a taxi. I must have reached Lady Drumbone’s just after eleven.”
“Did you find her alone? ”
“Yes. Keith came in soon afterwards and seemed flabbergasted to find me there.
But he was very sweet and tried to be helpful—offered to drive me round to Richard’s and what not. I was in a bit of a state, you know. I stayed up talking to him after Drumbone had gone to bed until quite late. I think he was longing to get to bed.”
Carolus smiled but said nothing.
“At last I turned in. It must have been about one o’clock. Rather unexpectedly slept like a top. Then, in the morning, Alan arrived with the news. You can see I’ve had a hell of a time, can’t you? Alan told it as gently as he could, but when I heard that damned tape-recording it pretty well broke me. I still can’t understand it.”
“If you feel up to it let’s consider that tape-recording for a moment. Lady Drumbone’s theory is that Richard had the illusion he had killed someone.”
“Richard wasn’t the sort of man to have illusions.”
“All right, but this wasn’t the Richard you knew, it was the Richard who made that confession. Now if it was an illusion, do you think he could have supposed it was you he had killed? ‘I loved her, yes, but I hated her, too.’ Could that apply to you? ”
Pippa considered deeply.
“I honestly don’t think so. I’m sure he never hated me. Perhaps he didn’t love me much, either. We got on fairly well when I behaved myself, but these violent emotions don’t seem to fit.”
“I see. Can you think of anyone he might have been thinking of? ”
“No. It’s Richard’s own character that makes the words seem nonsense. He was a most temperate man.”
“But—you won’t mind my asking this?—was there anyone else who aroused even his temperate emotions? ”
“No one I knew of. Unless he met someone in those last ten days. It doesn’t seem likely.”
“Then you don’t think he was just imagining it? You think he really did go out of his mind and killed someone? ”
“I don’t know. How can you guess what someone whom you have always known as sane would do when he is insane? ”
“You can’t. I shouldn’t have asked you that. What about that sudden ‘Hell!’ at the end? It seems rather out of keeping, doesn’t it? ”
“It’s strange you should say that. To me it’s the only thing in keeping. The one word that sounds like Richard. He never really swore, not even ‘damn’. Hell! was about as far as he went, but he used it often. A characteristic little exclamation of his. If I hadn’t known from the voice all through that it was Richard, I should have known from that.”
“Thank you very much, Mrs Hoysden. You’ve been very explicit and patient. I must apologize for this repulsive meal, too.”
Pippa smiled, but not very cheerfully.
“I suppose I seem callous,” she said. “I’m not really.”
She rose. Carolus, who had paid a monstrous bill, followed her out to the car.
“I hope you clear up this beastly thing,” she said.
“I will,” promised Carolus. “You may have helped me more than you realize.”
7
MRS STICK was waiting up for them. Carolus knew at once from her manner that something had taken place during the day which had disturbed the little woman. She followed Carolus to his sitting-room.
“Your whisky’s out,” she said unnecessarily, “and a bottle of light ale for the young gentleman.”
“Thank you, Mrs Stick,” said Carolus airily.
“Mr Gorringer’s been here,” said Mrs Stick in a low, fateful voice.
“Oh? What did he want? ”
“It wasn’t so much what he wanted as what he told me. I must say I never thought you’d demean yourself, sir, if you’ll pardon the expression, not to telling me one thing when it was a case of another. So it may be a relative of Lady Drum-bone’s, and Mr Gorringer quite willing for you to get mixed up in it, that doesn’t mean you was going swimming as you said, when all the while there’s this man been strangling women and done for himself and you starting all over again, though you’ve told me I don’t know how many times it would be the last.”
“Ah, well,” said Carolus, pouring out a whisky-and-soda.
“I’m beginning to think Mr Gorringer’s as bad as any of them, upon my word I am. It was him used to want you to have nothing to do with murders and that, and now he seems to go out of his way to find them for you. I was only saying to Stick, we can’t go on like this, I said, not if Mr
Gorringer’s going to start. Well, can we? Then there was the dinner. You never told me you wasn’t going to be in and I had some lovely ritz der voo braisay for you. Though the jiggot’s still in the house. It will mean something’s got to be wasted, and I do hate waste.”
“I am sorry about that, Mrs Stick. I should have phoned you. Though I’ve been punished, I assure you, by the dinner I’ve had. The sweetbreads will be all right tomorrow, won’t they? ”
“Not the same, they won’t. Keeping the young gentleman up till all hours, too. It’s not right, really it isn’t. Still, I suppose it’s no good me saying anything. I might as well save my breath. Mr Gorringer’s coming round in the morning, he says.”
“What for? ”
“He’s off to Belgium, he told me, and he wants to see you before he goes.”
Carolus had scarcely finished breakfast next morning when the headmaster appeared. He was evidently anticipating the pleasures of Ostend (with days spent in Bruges) by wearing his holiday attire, flannel trousers, an alpaca jacket and a Panama hat. He seemed in high spirits, even after seeing Priggley smoke a cigarette.
“Ah, Deene. Ah, Priggley,” he greeted them. “A brief visit before I take flight for a sunnier clime. You are already in the toils of detection, I gather. You will be pleased to hear that when I called yesterday I was able somewhat to mollify your excellent housekeeper by telling her that in this case it is at my behest that you have re-entered the lists.”
“So she says. She had no idea till then that there was a case.”
“All is well now, however. Not for nothing have I a reputation for wearing le gant glacé. Have you made much progress? ”
“Some, yes. It’s a curious case.”
“And Lady Drumbone? ”
“What about her? ”
“She is pleased, doubtless, with your intervention? ”
“Not very. I told them to hand that recording to the police.”
“Was that necessary, Deene? Surely the words spoken in that recording might be construed as a moment’s aberration? In Lady Drumbone’s position as one of the most … positive of our politicians …”
“Whatever she is, she can’t afford to suppress evidence. When do you leave? ”
“Friday. Or as Mrs Gorringer more wittily puts it, tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow. On Saturday morning we shall be enjoying our petit dejeuner at Le Balmoral, the cares of state for some time left behind. I came this morning but to remind you that although I am willing, nay anxious, that you should render Lady Drumbone every assistance in your power, yet I should be highly displeased by a public connection of your name with the case or the remotest reference to the school. I am sure you appreciate that. As for Priggley …” The headmaster’s prominent eyes took in his precocious pupil, who was almost supine in an armchair. “I trust you have some suitable holiday task to keep him occupied? Splendid. Splendid. Then I will wish you, my dear Deene, a happy solution to your little problem and a pleasant holiday.”
“Thank you, headmaster.”
“Ah, I was forgetting to tell you, Mrs Gorringer made one of her wittier sallies. ‘I hope Deene doesn’t find that Maresfield turns out to be a mare’s nest!’ she said. I must say I laughed heartily.”
“I’ll bet you did,” said Carolus.
When Mr Gorringer had taken his departure Carolus looked at his watch.
“I want to see something of Richard Hoysden’s shop, this morning,” he said. ““I should like to know what his staff thought of him. Coming? ”
“Will it be open?”
“Yes. If I know anything of small towns, new or old, it will be busy.”
He was right. This was the first morning on which ‘Hoysden’s’ had opened since the tragedy, and several people remembered gramophone records they wished to buy or even hire-purchase instalments to pay. But it was not difficult to pick out the assistant in charge from the rest of the staff, for the formal black jacket and striped trousers of Mr Toffin, his air of importance and his hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the scene, identified him at once. He had evidently been warned of Carolus’s coming visit.
“Perhaps you would like to come into the office?” he whispered, and led Carolus to a glass-partitioned compartment at the back of the shop.
“Terrible thing,” he commented austerely.
“How does it leave matters here? “was Carolus’s first unexpected question.
“The business, you mean? Oh, we haven’t thought of that yet.”
“I suppose he left a will? ”
“That is outside my sphere, Mr Deene. The family will be able to inform you, no doubt.”
“What about your job? ”
“I really haven’t considered it. It has been a most severe shock. But I have always understood that in case of any accident or illness which Mr Hoysden might suffer, it would fall to me to carry on.”
“I see. So you’re likely to be manager? ”
“I imagine, though I’ve scarcely given a thought to the matter, that a limited company will be formed in which the majority of shares will appertain to Mr Hoysden’s widow. But in view of my service with Mr Hoysden—I have been here since the shop was opened—I have no doubt that I shall be asked to assume the duties of managing director. In that case I should be inclined to develop the hire-purchase side of the business and perhaps engage one or two canvassers of good presence and address. Not that such things have occupied my thoughts for a moment.”
“No. No. Still it’s an ill wind that blows no one any good. Tell me about Richard Hoysden.”
“My late employer,” said Mr Toffin primly, “might be described as a perfect gentleman …”
Carolus looked straight into the watery grey eyes.