Mr. Zero

by Patricia Wentworth

  “How do you know he didn’t destroy ’em at once?”

  Marks on the handkerchief,“ said Inspector Boyce. ”Very soft silk, sir. See-there’s the shape of the envelopes quite plain, but the crease wouldn’t last tumbling about in his pocket like he had it-not in that soft silk, not above an hour or so.”

  “What do you say to that, Brook?”

  The four men were alone in the study. Mr. Patterson, whose firm would as soon have touched divorce as murder, had gone back to town outraged in every susceptibility. Mr. Montagu Lushington had not gone yet. He was, at the moment, in the drawing-room with his two secretaries.

  “What do you say to that, Brook?”

  Mr. Brook nodded slightly.

  “The Inspector is quite right, Colonel Anstruther. That handkerchief would only keep the shape of the letters for a very short time. If they hadn’t been tied up in it for a good many hours, it wouldn’t have kept it at all. I don’t think it was suicide. Sturrock was the first on the scene of Sir Francis Colesborough’s murder after Mr. Somers and Miss Hardwicke ran up to the house. Lady Colesborough has said all along that she didn’t know what happened to the letters. Either she dropped them on her side of the hedge, or Mr. Zero dropped them on his side. The brown and green silk covering would make the packet very inconspicuous. By some accident Sturrock found them. I think it is quite impossible that he should have been Zero, but I think the letters told him who Zero was. I think he tried to make use of this knowledge, and I think it brought him to his death. I think Mr. Zero is a very dangerous man to blackmail.”

  Colonel Anstruther said, “Bless my soul!” in an extremely startled voice. Then he rallied. “Sounds like a lot of guesswork to me,” he growled. “What about the pistol-what about fingerprints? They’ll show who handled it.”

  “Only Sturrock’s fingerprints on it, sir,” said Inspector Boyce. “But of course anyone who was out to make it look like suicide wouldn’t go leaving fingerprints of his own. Mr. Brook is quite right, sir-Mr. Zero is a dangerous one. And I don’t think we’ve got to look very far for him either. It’s getting enough evidence for a jury that’s the trouble.”

  Colonel Anstruther looked up at him frowning.

  “There’s no doubt about the pistol being the missing one of Sir Francis Colesborough’s pair?”

  “Absolutely no doubt at all, sir. And who had the best opportunity of taking it? Why, he’d half an hour to do what he liked before we got here-hadn’t he?”

  Dr. Hammond had been listening with brisk attention, turning his head from one speaker to another with rather the air of a terrier who is watching several ratholes at once. Very bright eyes and a head of tousled grey hair assisted the likeness. He burst now into speech.

  “You mean Mr. Somers?”

  Colonel Anstruther pushed back his chair with a jerk.

  “Oh, have him in-have him in! It’s a crazy case, if you ask me.”

  The Inspector made for the door, but stopped with his hand on it. Mr. Brook was speaking.

  “Perhaps we had better see Mr. Brewster first. Mr. Lushington will be wanting to get back to town. If you have no objections, Colonel Anstruther-”

  Colonel Anstruther had no objection, and presently Mr. Brewster came in.

  Before the door was shut Dr. Hammond was up and taking his leave.

  “I’d like to stay, but I’ve got to go. Twins at Railing, and a broken leg out at Oldmeadow. And it’s Sunday evening. What a life!”

  When he was gone Colonel Anstruther turned to Mr. Brewster.

  “Sit down, won’t you? We won’t keep you long, but we think you may be able to help us.”

  “Anything I can do.” Mr. Brewster registered an earnest desire to be helpful.

  “Naturally. I believe you and Mr. Somers left the drawing-room together after tea.”

  “Oh, yes, Colonel Anstruther, we did.”

  “Did you happen to notice the time?”

  “Oh, yes-I glanced at my watch. It was twenty minutes past five. I thought Mr. Lushington-”

  “Yes, yes!” Colonel Anstruther’s tone was testy. “Can you tell us what happened after you left the room?”

  Mr. Brewster assumed an intent expression.

  “Yes, I can, Colonel Anstruther. And I assure you that I shall take great pains to be accurate. We came out of the drawing-room together-that is, Mr. Somers and I came out of the drawing-room-and when we had got about half way across the hall-I think it was just about half way, but it may not have been quite as much-the butler came towards us from the direction, or what I now understand to be the direction, in which the domestic offices are situated.”

  “What? You saw Sturrock after you left the drawing-room?”

  “If that is his name. We saw the unfortunate man who is the subject of the present enquiry.”

  “Bless my soul!” said Colonel Anstruther. “Make a note of that, Boyce. Well, that narrows down the time considerably. You saw Sturrock alive at twenty past five, and William found him dead at five-and-twenty to six. Well, go on, sir. What was he doing?”

  “He approached us,” said Mr. Brewster, speaking in his precise way, “and he informed Mr. Somers that he was wanted on the telephone.”

  “What?”

  “I will endeavour to give you his exact words. To the best of my recollection he said, speaking to Mr. Somers, ‘There’s a London call for you, sir. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind taking it in my pantry as the gentlemen are using the study.’ ”

  “Go on,” said Mr. Brook. “What happened after that?”

  The Inspector wrote at Sir Francis Colesborough’s table.

  Mr. Brewster cast an interested glance at him and continued his narrative.

  “Mr. Somers disappeared in the direction from which the butler had come. I then enquired where it would be convenient for me to wait until Mr. Lushington had finished his conversation with Mr. Brook, and the butler indicated a room he called the Parlour. It is reached by a passage on the opposite side of the hall behind the drawing-room.”

  “Yes, yes!” Colonel Anstruther was impatient. “Did Sturrock accompany you along this passage?”

  “No-he merely indicated the room.”

  “You went there?”

  “I did.”

  “And remained there?”

  “I remained there until about a quarter to six, when I thought I had really better make sure that Mr. Lushington was still engaged. I found the house in a turmoil, and was informed that the butler had shot himself.”

  “That,” said Mr. Brook, “is by no means certain.”

  “Indeed?” Mr. Brewster expressed a mild surprise.

  “The Parlour is some way off,” said Colonel Anstruther. “Did you see anyone at all during the time you were there?”

  “No.”

  “Or hear anything? You didn’t hear the shot?”

  “Oh, no, sir. I think it would have been quite impossible to do so, having regard to the distance-”

  “Yes, yes! Well, I think that’s all-eh, Mr. Brook? I don’t think we need keep you any longer, Mr. Brewster, and I don’t think we need detain Mr. Lushington if he wants to be off. Boyce, will you ask Somers to come here?”

  XXX

  Algy Somers came into the room somewhat heartened by the fact that Monty had just clapped him on the shoulder and bidden him brace up. There had been real warmth in voice and manner. And he had always thought Monty rather a cold fish. It only showed that you never could tell.

  He took the chair which Mr. Brewster had vacated, but experienced none of his desire to be helpful. He felt an extraordinary distaste for the whole thing, an extraordinary mental fatigue. Through this fatigue came the conviction that the hostility he had encountered before had sensibly increased, and that they were all watching him as if they expected something to happen. He didn’t know what.

  Colonel Anstruther led off with the same question as before.

  “You left the drawing-room with Mr. Brewster. Did you notice the time?”

 
“Brewster did,” said Algy. “He said it was twenty past five.”

  “Mr. Brook corroborates that. He went in as you came out, and he looked at the clock in the hall. Now, Mr. Somers, will you tell us just what happened after you left the room?”

  “Yes,” said Algy. “Sturrock came through the baize door beyond the dining-room and said I was wanted on the telephone. He said it was a trunk call and would I mind taking it in the pantry.”

  “Yes?” said Mr. Brook.

  “I went through and took off the receiver. There was no one on the line. I tried to get the exchange, but they seemed to be asleep. When I did get them they said they didn’t know anything about a trunk call. I hung up and came back into the hall.”

  “One minute, Mr. Somers-how long did this take?”

  “I can’t say-two minutes-three-it always seems a long time when you’re trying to get the exchange.”

  “And you say you returned to the hall?”

  “Yes, I came back into the hall.”

  “Meeting Sturrock on the way?”

  “No, I didn’t see him again.”

  “You’re sure he didn’t come back into the pantry while you were at the telephone?”

  “Oh, quite sure.”

  “And he wasn’t in the hall when you got back there?”

  “Not a sign of him.”

  “What did you do next, Mr. Somers?”

  “I went upstairs,” said Algy. Like a cold wind the thought went over him that no one had seen him go.

  Mr. Brook’s voice echoed the thought, inverting it, putting it to him as a question.

  “Did anyone see you go upstairs? Did you meet anyone?”

  “Not a soul, I’m afraid.”

  “What did you do when you got up there?”

  “I went to my room.”

  “Yes?”

  “I stayed there until I heard a commotion in the house. Then I came down, and someone, one of the footmen, told me Sturrock had shot himself.”

  “How long were you in your room?” said Colonel Anstruther.

  “I couldn’t say exactly, sir-about ten minutes.”

  There was a pause. Then the Chief Constable said,

  “Listen to me, Mr. Somers. The theory that this man Sturrock committed suicide is not borne out by the medical evidence. It is a very convenient theory, but it won’t hold water. Very disappointing for the person who shot him, but there it is. It is our business to find out who did shoot him. Now here are the facts. Sir Francis Colesborough owned a pair of pistols. He kept one of them in that drawer-second on the right, wasn’t it, Boyce?-and there is no evidence as to where he kept the other. Sturrock thought he kept them both there. Pity we didn’t press the point at the time, but it wasn’t of any special importance then-now of course it is. Sir Francis was shot with one of the pair, and Sturrock with the other. Now, supposing the second pistol to have been in that drawer, who had access to it before the police arrived last night?”

  “A good many people, I should say, sir.”

  “Yourself among them. You agree to that?”

  “Oh, certainly.”

  Colonel Anstruther frowned in a judicial manner.

  “You had access to the weapon?”

  “Oh, no, sir-that is going too far. I, in common with the entire household, had access to a drawer in which you suppose the second pistol may have been. There is no proof that it was there. I certainly never set eyes on it myself.”

  Colonel Anstruther said, “Tcha! Since Sturrock was shot with this pistol, it is obvious that it was on the premises, and if it was on the premises, you had access to it.”

  Algy shook his head.

  “I don’t admit any of that,” he said.

  Colonel Anstruther’s colour deepened.

  “Perhaps you will allow me to continue. Sturrock was shot between twenty-one or twenty-two minutes past five, when you and Mr. Brewster encountered him in the hall, and five-and-twenty to six, when William found him dead and gave the alarm. During that time Mr. Brook was with the Home Secretary in the drawing-room. Mr. Patterson, myself, and the Inspector were in here. Mr. Brewster was in the Parlour, Lady Colesborough in her own room with Miss Hardwicke, who says she left her to go to her bedroom a little before the half hour, but she was not away more than a minute or two. The staff were all in the servants’ hall with the exception of the cook and the second housemaid, who were out, and Sturrock, whom none of them had seen from the time he had taken tea into the drawing-room at five o’clock. The wireless was switched on and a programme of military band music was coming through. This would account for the fact that nobody heard the shot. The servants were all together till just after the half hour, when William tried the pantry door and found it locked. There is a passage between the servant’s hall and the pantry, and the doors are some distance apart. As William could get no reply, he became alarmed and, going round by the dining room, found the butler dead on the pantry floor with the pistol close to his hand. Now, Mr. Somers, who shot him? He didn’t shoot himself, you know-Dr. Hammond is quite clear about that. He was shot by Mr. Zero whom he was blackmailing.”

  Mr. Brook, watching closely, saw Algy Somers start. A man may start when he is surprised, or when he is alarmed. Mr. Brook went on watching closely, and Colonel Anstruther went on talking.

  “Blackmailing,” he said in a tone which dared anyone to, contradict him. “Does that surprise you?”

  “Very much,” said Algy.

  Colonel Anstruther said “Tcha!” and continued, “There is evidence to show that Sturrock had been in possession of the letters which Lady Colesborough was about to hand over to Mr. Zero when Sir Francis interrupted them. She must have dropped them, and Sturrock must have picked them up-he had ample opportunity before the police arrived. Anyhow he had them. The handkerchief in which they were wrapped was found on him.”

  “And the letters?”

  “Mr. Zero’s got them. He did murder for them, and he got away with them. But he hasn’t got clear, Mr. Somers, and I don’t think he will.”

  “I hope he won’t,” said Algy in rather an odd tone. Absent-minded, almost as if he was thinking of something else, was what Mr. Brook thought. Then his head came up with a jerk, and he said in quite a different voice and manner, “Colonel Anstruther, may I tell you something?”

  The Inspector looked up quickly. Colonel Anstruther stared.

  “If you’ve anything to say-any information to give-”

  “Well, I have, sir. I don’t know what you’ll think of it, but it seems to me that it might be important.”

  “Tell us what it is, Mr. Somers,” said Mr. Brook.

  “It’s this,” said Algy. “I expect you know that I took my car out this afternoon.” His eye had a challenging sparkle. “Well, just beyond the gate I passed Sturrock ploughing along in the mud in his store clothes, and I offered him a lift. He said Railing would suit him, and I didn’t care where I went, so I dropped him there in the Market Square, and as I was driving off I saw him go into a pub called the Hand and Flower.” He stopped and Colonel Anstruther said,

  “Is that all?”

  Algy looked at him seriously.

  “It doesn’t sound very much, sir, but when you said Sturrock had been blackmailing Mr. Zero, this is what struck me-if he had the letters, he must have found them last night. I told you we met him on the lawn and sent him down to where Sir Francis was lying, with orders to stay there until the police arrived. If he had the letters, that’s when he got them, and if he used them to blackmail Mr. Zero, the letters must have told him who Mr. Zero was.”

  “Quite so,” said Mr. Brook drily.

  “Well then, he would have to get into touch with him. If he was shot because he was blackmailing Mr. Zero, it was because he did get into touch with him. Well, how did he do it? Would he risk using the telephone here, or would he think Railing safer? Why did he go to Railing anyhow? He was back again in time to bring in tea, you know. He told me he would be catching a bus at something after f
our. Don’t you think there must have been something special to take him in to Railing if he was only going to be there for a little over half an hour? Wouldn’t it be worth while to find out what he was doing in the Hand and Flower, and, if possible, whether he put through any telephone call whilst he was there? Someone may have noticed him.”

  Inspector Boyce looked up.

  “That’s a good idea, sir. I could send Collins. He’s smart.”

  Colonel Anstruther sanctioned the sending of Collins with a grunt and a jerk of the head.

  Algy got up.

  “I’ve told you all I know, sir. Is there anything else?”

  If they were going to arrest him, it would be now. He wondered what they had found in Francis Colesborough’s safe. He wondered whether his red herring was going to give him a respite. He wondered what Gay was doing. Everything seemed to hang in the balance. Then Colonel Anstruther said stiffly,

  “Nothing more at present, thank you, Mr. Somers.”

  XXXI

  Mr. Lushington decided not to go back to town. Mr. Brewster was instructed to ring up Railing Place and say that Mr. Lushington was returning there.

  “And you too of course.” Constance Wessex-Gardner’s voice was arch.

  Mr. Brewster reflected that it was a mistake to be arch when nature had provided you with a sharp, bony profile and a long, thin neck. He pictured them, shuddered faintly, and replied with his usual politeness that Mrs. Wessex-Gardner was indeed kind, and that he would be delighted.

  “These politicians,” said the lady-“always so terribly busy. My brother-in-law never has a moment, but I hope that you will have some time to spare for me.”

  Mr. Brewster departed from the stricter ways of truth and said he hoped so too. After which he reported to his chief, and they presently drove away together.

  Mr. Lushington appeared to be in a communicative mood.

  “Most extraordinary affair,” he said.

  “Most inexplicable,” said Mr. Brewster. He paused, hesitated, and coughed slightly. “Would it be indiscreet if I were to enquire whether anything of importance was discovered in the safe?”

  Montagu Lushington frowned.