Gunpowder Plot

by Carola Dunn

  “Oh dear! I suppose you won’t tell me whether Tom found out anything else.”

  “If he had, I wouldn’t, but he didn’t. He got the impression the butler was ‘holding out on him,’ as the Americans say, but the old man is so senile, he may just be imagining he has a secret.” Alec looked up as heavy footsteps came down the stairs.

  “The ambulance men,” Daisy told him. “Mortuary men.”

  He stood up and went over to them. “In case no one else has got around to it, I want to thank you for your attentions to the accident victim. Did you see the crash?”

  “That we did, sir. We wasn’t too far behind the gentleman’s car. A blooming great rocket come out of nowhere. Spitting coloured fire, weren’t it, mate?”

  “And making a noise fit to wake the dead. In a manner of speaking. Our van ain’t the quietest and we could hear the bangs. Went right acrost the road in front of the poor gentleman.”

  “I don’t say as I wouldn’t’ve druv off the road meself, and I can’t say fairer’n that.”

  “Did you see who fired the rocket?”

  They looked at each other and both shook their heads regretfully.

  “Nah, nor hide nor hair. In among the trees he must’ve bin, wouldn’t you say, mate? Well, sir, we gotta go pick up them corpuses of yourn, afore they gets up and walks away.”

  “Great Scott, where are they?”

  “Lying alongside of the drive, with t’other gentleman’s shover on guard, and no knowing when he’ll get tired of waiting.”

  “Yes, you’d best be off. Thank you.” Alec returned to Daisy. “All right, love, you didn’t see who set off the rocket, but . . . ”

  “Babs may have seen.”

  “If she saw her brother, she’ll never tell us.”

  “Jack! Why on earth should he fire a rocket at Gooch?”

  “That I can’t say,” Alec admitted, “but Gooch knows something he’s not telling.”

  “About Jack?”

  “It could be. Jack may have heard Sir Harold talking to Lewin about changing his will and realized he was serious. In that case, Jack’s only hope was to kill his father before he did it. He was in a hurry. He couldn’t wait for a chance to catch his father alone. Whatever Mrs. Gooch’s reason for going with Sir Harold to the study, it’s quite likely that her husband kept an eye on her, and in so doing he’d have seen Jack following them.”

  “And Jack noticed him watching?” Daisy said sceptically.

  “Or he told Jack he’d seen him. There’s still a whiff of blackmail about this whole affair.”

  “I can’t believe Jack would shoot Mrs. Gooch, nor that Mr. Gooch would blackmail his wife’s murderer when he could denounce him. But suppose you’re right, I still want to know, why on earth should Jack fire a rocket at Gooch’s car? It’s a very uncertain way to get rid of someone.”

  “True. There’s a chance, though, that he’d crash and be killed, and little or no risk in trying.”

  “I call it pretty far-fetched. I bet Jack was with Miller the whole time. They were taking apart the firework scaffolding when I left.”

  “Would Miller lie for Jack? For his own sake, or Gwen’s?”

  “Give him a false alibi? I doubt it. Not when it’s a matter of murder, or attempted murder. In any case, it wasn’t Jack Babs saw, if she saw anyone. She was sure it was Adelaide’s boys.”

  “That’s what she claimed?”

  “I’d be very surprised if she’s wrong.”

  “Because Jack says they stole some rockets.”

  “And because when Gwen fetched me from the station, they threw squibs at the car in exactly the same place. Fortunately, Gwen has steady hands.”

  “Fortunate indeed! If it can be proved the boys caused Gooch’s accident, they’re in serious trouble.”

  “Don’t worry, Babs is going to give them what for, and she seems to be the one person they’re afraid of. They really are the most appalling children. To tell the truth, their mother’s pretty appalling, too.”

  “I’m not looking forward to interviewing her.”

  “Let Tom do it,” Daisy suggested, tongue in cheek. “She’d be so flabbergasted, she might even stop whining and showing off and give some sensible answers.”

  “That’s an idea! Here he comes. All in order, Sergeant?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Tom’s calm rumble contrasted with the agitated squeak of the solicitor. “I assure you, Chief Inspector, I have given every assistance I feel able to justify consonant with my duty to my clients.”

  “Of course, sir. I take it you’ll be acting for the family should they be in need of legal advice?”

  “Oh no, no, no indeed!” Lewin took off his spectacles and polished them vigorously. “That is, you are referring to possible . . . er . . . criminal charges? Good gracious, no! Apart from the fact that I could, I fear, be called as a witness, my partners and I feel very strongly that . . . er . . . criminal matters are and should remain outside our province. I shall be happy, of course, to refer . . . er . . . anyone in need of such advice to a firm well versed in such issues. I shall consult my partners as to who might be suitable.”

  “I see. As you’re here, no doubt you’ll be informing the Tyndalls of the provisions of the current will.”

  “After the funeral is the customary time, though I believe Sir Harold made no secret of his . . . er . . . previous intentions. Oh dear, I suppose in the circumstances . . . ?”

  “We’ll let you know when the funeral can be held.”

  “Very good, very good. In the . . . er . . . circumstances, I believe I shall not linger to present my condolences. A note to Lady Tyndall will be properer. Be so kind, Chief Inspector, as to express my regret that the family were all otherwise engaged when I called.”

  “As you wish. No doubt the Tyndalls will be in touch, as will we if we require any further assistance from you.”

  As soon as Lewin was out of earshot, Daisy said, “ ‘The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.’ ”

  Tom looked at her with eyebrows raised halfway up the shining dome of his head.

  “Sorry, I’m feeling a bit Shakespearean this morning.”

  “Shakespeare, eh?” Tom grinned, making his moustache twitch. “Now that’s a good bit. What they made us learn at school was a lot of twaddle about fairies.”

  “ ‘Hold, enough!’ ” said Alec. “Tom, what did you get out of Lewin?”

  “Sir Harold didn’t tell him who was going to be his heir, just drew him aside when he arrived last evening and said he was going to disinherit ‘that damn disobedient puppy.’ Begging your pardon, Mrs. Fletcher. Mr. Lewin got the impression Sir Harold wasn’t sure who to leave the estate to—it’s not tied up in any way—but he can’t pin down just what was said to give him that impression.”

  “Did Sir Harold make a habit of threatening to change his will?”

  “No, Chief. The boy was always ‘the apple of his father’s eye,’ and Mr. Lewin was astonished to hear he’d fallen from grace.”

  “But Sir Harold was serious about it?”

  “He actually made an appointment to go to the solicitors’ offices this afternoon.”

  “Sounds serious enough. Anything else?”

  Tom quickly scanned his notes. “That’s about it, Chief. What’s this about Mr. Gooch?”

  Alec explained in about a tenth as many words as Daisy had employed to tell the story. While she admired his succinctness, he failed to convey the drama and horror of the event. Of course, he hadn’t experienced it.

  “It was beastly,” she said with a shudder. “I don’t know what Babs and I would have done if the men in the van hadn’t turned up, and then the doctor. Although, to be perfectly honest, looking back, it was quite funny the way people kept arriving one after another, if it hadn’t all been so dreadful. I do hope he’ll be all right.”

  Alec put his arm around her shoulders, hastily removed it as they heard footsteps on the stairs, then returned it to its comfort
ing place when they saw Ernie Piper coming down.

  “How is Mr. Gooch?” Daisy asked eagerly.

  “Pretty bad, Mrs. Fletcher. Dr. Prentice says he’s badly concussed and several bones are broken. Well, the bones’ll knit, but there’s no telling what damage there is to his brain. He’s still unconscious. I brought his wallet, Chief, and this.” Piper waved an envelope.

  Alec once again removed his arm from Daisy’s shoulders, leaving a chilly spot, as he took the wallet and opened it. “Over a hundred pounds in notes. Book of cheques. And here’s a receipted copy of a letter of credit from a bank in Australia, for a thousand pounds. They weren’t doing themselves too shabbily! We’d better hang on to this for the moment. Here, make a list of the contents, Ernie. What’s that you have there?”

  “Addressed to Sir Harold Tyndall, Chief.” Piper handed over the envelope. “Well, no address, just the name. It was in the inside pocket of his jacket.”

  “Just to Sir Harold, not Lady Tyndall. So not a bread-and-butter letter written before the event.”

  “They might not have realized thanks for hospitality ought to be addressed to the hostess,” Daisy pointed out.

  “True. Tom, you have their passport? Let’s have a look at their signatures. . . . Yes, I thought so, it’s her writing.”

  “Back to the blackmail theory, Chief?” Tom suggested.

  “Perhaps. An undelivered letter from a murdered woman to a murdered man. I suppose I’m justified in reading it.”

  “Felt to me like it’s got another envelope inside, Chief,” said Piper, opening and offering the penknife with which he kept sharp his endless supply of pencils.

  Alec carefully slit the top of the envelope. “Yes, there’s another one inside. That’s odd, it’s addressed to ‘Jack.’ Just ‘Jack,’ no surname, no Mr. or Esquire. Here’s the covering letter.”

  He unfolded the single sheet. The sprawling handwriting was easy to make out and Daisy read silently as he read aloud: “ ‘Dear Harry, I don’t want to upset anybody you needn’t wory I’m going to tell nobody else. But I thoght I better let you know I’m going to tell Jack. Its no good tryng to stop me. I’ll do it weather you say yes or no but if you say yes you can give him this letter I writ for him so as it don’t come like a shock when I tell him. Its my right. Yrs truly, Ellie Gooch (Mrs).’ ”

  They gazed at each other with a wild surmise, silent (though not, thought Daisy, upon a peak in Darien. It wasn’t only Shakespeare haunting her today). Dying of curiosity, she was about to ask Alec if he felt justified in opening the second envelope, when Jack came in from the drawing room, followed by Wookleigh and Miller.

  “Mr. Fletcher! Sir Nigel tells me Mr. Gooch ran his car off the road, on our land. Is he badly hurt?”

  “I’m afraid his injuries appear to be serious.”

  “I told Father that turn into the lane was an accident waiting to happen. I’m going to take down the gateposts and straighten it out. I wouldn’t have had this happen for anything! First Mrs. Gooch, and now this! Where is he? Upstairs?”

  “Dr. Prentice is here,” Daisy said soothingly, “and Gwen and Babs are doing what they can to help.” It was not the moment to tell him about the rocket.

  “I’d only be in the way,” Jack said in frustration.

  “Come and sit down, Mr. Tyndall,” said Alec. “Mr. Gooch was carrying this, addressed to you.”

  Still standing, Jack took the envelope and stared at it blankly. “What on earth?”

  “I’d like you to open it now, in my presence. I must warn you that anything you choose to say will be written down and may be produced in evidence. You are not obliged to say anything, and you are entitled to legal representation.”

  Jack gave no sign of hearing the ominous words. With a frown, he ripped open the envelope, unfolded the letter, and started to read. Utter astonishment was succeeded by shock as he turned the page. Ashen, he dropped into the nearest chair. He read on to the end, then folded the double sheet with automatic fingers. Leaning forward, he held it out to Alec without a word.

  Alec took it. Jack slumped against the high back of the chair, his eyes closed, still deadly pale.

  “Whisky?” Sir Nigel said in a loud whisper to Miller, who nodded and went off.

  Alec unfolded the letter and started to read, silently this time. As before, Daisy read it with him.

  My dearest boy,

  You will be suprized to get this from me seeing we never met before last night but I’ll explain. You are 21 and a man and you can deside for yourself. I waited all these yrs till you was old enogh to deside for yourself. This is hard to writ and I want you to be shure I’m not going to do anything to upset things. I won’t never tell anyone else, I promise faithfuly. I come all the way from Australia to tell you and becaus I just wanted to see you and tell you and make shure your alright. Becaus my Jimmy is a good man and if theres anything you need he’ll spring for it and won’t never say nothing. Even if its a lot of money he’s not short a penny, long as it don’t take away from our boys you see you got three brothers. Half brothers I shuld say. You see, Jacky dear I’m youre real mother. Your dads youre real dad don’t wory he wanted a boy so badly and him and me, well, you know about the birds and the bees your 21 like I said. And I coudn’t a brung you up propper all on my one and he give me enugh money to start over in Australia and her ladyship promised she be a propper mother to you from what I seen she kept her promis you been happy, so what could I do? But I cried and cried when they took you away and now I’ve come back to make shure your alright like I said and dont hold it agin me Jackie, I just want to see you and talk to you and for you to know I love you and that’s all. And I won’t tell no one else, like I said and me and Jimmy ll go back to Australia and leave you be don’t wory. But if you coud just come down to the Three Ravens tomorrow just to talk a bit more, you was so nice to me last night. O Jackie I love you dearly tho I wasn’t a good mother to you so please come.

  Youre loving mother

  Ellie Gooch

  16

  Alec saw that Daisy was blotting her eyes with her fingertips. Dammit, he shouldn’t have read the letter where she could see it. He gave her his spare handkerchief, the one he kept for weeping witnesses and suspects.

  The letter, he passed to Tom Tring for him and Piper to read. Jack Tyndall had handed it over after receiving the warning. It was now an item of evidence. However, Sir Nigel Wookleigh had no right to see it, since—as Struwwelpeter correctly, if maddeningly, kept insisting—this was not his county. Fortunately, the Chief Constable realized this.

  “Hmph,” he said, tugging on his whiskers, “like to have a word with Lady Tyndall before I leave, assure her of any assistance I can properly offer. But this isn’t the moment. Don’t want to get in the way. Believe I’ll take a turn on the terrace.”

  “Thank you, sir,” said Alec with heartfelt appreciation. An interfering CC could be the very devil.

  In the doorway to the drawing room, Wookleigh met Miller bearing a half-full glass and a soda siphon. “Just the ticket,” he said approvingly, and went on.

  Miller touched Jack’s shoulder and, when he opened dazed eyes, put the glass into his hand. He took a gulp, spluttered, and mutely held out the glass for soda water. Alec watched the colour begin to return to his face. He couldn’t possibly be acting. But the shattering surprise might have been the existence of the letter, not its contents. In that case, his handing it to the police rather than trying to conceal it could be considered a brilliant move.

  While observing his chief suspect, Alec had not forgotten the third victim, who was still himself a suspect. “Piper, you’d better go and sit with Gooch until I can organize a uniformed replacement.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ernie Piper was bright enough and had worked with Alec long enough not to need his task spelled out for him: He was to catch any words Gooch might utter and to guard him from further harm. They had no proof the rocket had been a small boys’ prank. The letter he had carried was enough to th
row the Tyndall family into turmoil. He might have proof of its claims, or he might have further revelations equally unwelcome.

  Tom, having folded the letter and consigned it to a capacious inner pocket, was watching Jack Tyndall equally closely. Alec had a job for him, too. But first he leant close to Daisy and asked in a low voice, “Does Wookleigh know about the rocket?”

  “No, I’m pretty sure not.”

  So he couldn’t have told Tyndall or Miller about it. Alec crooked his finger and Tom came over. “Tom, see if Miller can give Tyndall an alibi for the past couple of hours.”

  “I don’t think Tom knows about the rocket, either,” Daisy whispered. “He wasn’t here.”

  “Rocket, Chief?”

  “A firework which probably caused Gooch’s accident.”

  “Ah.” No more than Piper did Tom need t’s crossed or i’s dotted.

  Alec raised his voice. “Mr. Miller, if you wouldn’t mind accompanying Sergeant Tring, he has a couple of questions for you.”

  Miller gave young Tyndall a dubious look. “Going to be all right, Jack?”

  The boy nodded.

  “All right.” He went with Tom into the drawing room.

  Which left Daisy to take notes, as Alec didn’t want Tyndall’s attention drawn to the fact that his words were being written down. She was already taking out her journalist’s notebook. Alec moved to a chair directly opposite Tyndall.

  “She . . . I don’t understand. Is it true? What she wrote?”

  “That Mrs. Gooch was your natural mother?”

  “Yes. I don’t understand! It can’t be true?”

  “That remains to be seen. You had no inkling?”

  “How could I? I’ve always been Jack Tyndall of Edge Manor. Father, M-mother, three sisters. No one’s ever called me a . . . bastard, at least not to my face. But if it’s not true, why should she write it?”

  “Good question.” Not one Alec intended to answer, though he could come up with a number of reasons. First, back to the blackmail theory, as Tom had said: An unfounded report of that nature could do almost as much damage as a true one. Second, Alec thought Mrs. Gooch had been a bit young to have reached the climacteric, but perhaps she had suffered some other type of mental instability—possibly triggered by a baby lost in the past and a meeting with a charming young man of the right age, or by delusions of grandeur: “My son the baronet.” Was it significant that the letter had been in her husband’s possession? He wasn’t at present available to be asked.