Both men kept straight on.
Ten yards, five. No swerve. Four, three, two, one.
A collision. Arms, legs, a flurry.
Joe Dagg staggered up and ran on. Reached his first hiding place. The policeman stood up, felt at his stomach, gradually straightened up. The others joined him. They stood for two minutes talking. One of them pointed in the direction of the cars. The third vehicle had just drawn up. Six men got out. There was a great deal of waving. Some shouts could be heard. Then all the men spread out making a wide circle.
From the knoll no sign. Joe had disappeared again almost as soon as he entered the trees.
‘He should have got to hell out of it while he had the chance,’ said Schlemberger.
No one said any more.
Gradually the circle of policemen closed in. Overhead the helicopter watched.
At last the searchers came to the edge of the little wood.
‘There were moments when I regretted those bets,’ said Wemyss.
The policemen became half hidden by the few trees.
One of them suddenly ran clear of the knoll and began waving to the plane. It looked as if he was shouting.
‘They won’t hear him if that machine is half as noisy as it was when I met it this morning,’ said Smithers.
Several of the other policemen came out of the wood. There was no sign of activity in it, or of any prisoner.
‘What do you think’s happened, sir?’ asked Peter.
‘Something unexpected by the looks of it,’ Smithers said. ‘But I wouldn’t try to guess what.’
‘But it might be anything, sir.’
‘It might. We’ll just have to wait. Look, there’s one of the policemen broken into a pantomime for the benefit of the inspector in the plane, if he’s still there.’
They watched the man. He had run a few paces from the others and was acting something out with enormous gestures. Soon it was plain what he was trying to say: No one in the wood.
The helicopter moved away.
‘It looks as if they’re going to land in that open space there for consultations,’ said Fremitt.
Suddenly the plane shot up in the air. An express lift.
Then it dived at an angle towards the next field. It seemed to have a definite aim.
A moment later from the hedge close by the spinney Joe Dagg broke cover again.
‘He must have had a tunnel or something,’ said the major. ‘Damned ingenious fellow.’
‘He’ll do it yet,’ said Wemyss. ‘He’s yards ahead of them this time and going away from their cars. They’re foxed.’
But they were not foxed. With a louder roar of engines, distinctly heard on the hilltop, the helicopter swept over Joe’s head. A figure dropped from it, arms spread out.
‘Nosey,’ whispered Peter.
The inspector and his quarry fell to the ground together. A moment later the inspector stood up.
‘Dad,’ said Peter, ‘he’s ...’
But already his father was struggling to his feet. The inspector leaned over him. Joe got up with his arms behind his back.
‘Handcuffed,’ said Wemyss. ‘I would have lost my money after all.’
‘I wouldn’t have minded losing, not a bit,’ said Daisy.
‘I suppose this is the end,’ Fremitt said. ‘It seems unlikely. But when you think of it, it’s only sensible.’
Smithers put a hand on Peter’s shoulder.
The whole party set off down the hill. They walked slowly. Not looking at each other.
When they got into the town, Kristen said:
‘I’m not going back to that bloody inn. I’d stifle.’
‘Don’t go off on your own, dear,’ said Daisy.
‘Why not? I won’t get murdered now, I suppose. But what a muck up.’
‘No, it’s not that,’ Daisy said. ‘It’s that I’ve got something important I want to tell you all.’
‘Did you know all along, then?’ asked Schlemberger. ‘You thought you’d let him have a run for his money. It was wrong, I guess.’
‘No, it’s not that either,’ Daisy said. ‘I mean it is really, I suppose. Now I’ve got myself in a tangle and at a time I really ought to be clear. I’ll tell you what it is: it’s just that I know who the murderer is, and it isn’t Joe Dagg.’
Seventeen
They stood in a knot round her in the street.
‘If you knew all this time,’ said Wemyss, ‘why didn’t you accuse whoever it was?’
‘That was quick, Richie, dear,’ said Kristen.
‘Quick?’
‘Getting in that little claim to being innocent.’
‘What do you mean?’
Wemyss raised his voice.
‘This is no place to discuss a matter of this sort,’ said Smithers. ‘I suggest we all go back to the hotel without another word.’
Put on silence.
They walked the few yards to the hotel, went in in a troop, and found the smoking room deserted. They crowded in.
A small room too dark to be used often. Little altered from the earliest days of the inn. A low ceiling crossed by a single misshapen beam. A deep fireplace designed for a heap of red embers now incongruously decorated with a sheet of orange-coloured paper folded to a fan shape.
A flimsy veneer of Orientalism: a circus poster on an oak tree. The sofa covered in a gaudy Indian cloth, an elephant’s-foot waste paper basket, three peacock’s feathers in a small Benares brass pot on the high mantelpiece. An enormous lopsided leather-covered pouf. A single Japanese print hanging on the wall, slightly crooked.
When they had all crowded in Smithers tried the door handle. The door was firmly shut. He then turned and faced the others. Holding himself unusually erect.
‘Oh dear,’ said Daisy. ‘Oh, do sit down everybody, please.’
One by one they all sat down, awkwardly. Only Daisy and Smithers remained on their feet. Smithers still by the door. Daisy in front of the deep chimneypiece.
‘You know,’ she said, ‘I’m not going to stand in front of you all and say a name.’
‘Not going to say a name, what do you mean?’ asked the major.
‘Only just that,’ Daisy said. ‘I know who killed George, but I’m not going to do anything like accusing them to their face here and now.’
‘But why not? Surely we’ve a right to know,’ the major said.
‘I don’t think we have,’ said Smithers.
He walked across and sat down on the pouf, the only vacant place left.
‘If Miss Miller has evidence which she has been foolish enough up to now to conceal from the police, all we have a right to expect’, he said, ‘is that she shall tell them as soon as possible.’
‘I do deserve a lecture, I know,’ she said. ‘I’m lucky to get such a nice one, and I suppose now I must go and see the inspector, but before I go I’ve got one thing I must tell you all. I feel I mustn’t dodge a bit of pain when someone else is going to have to go through a hell of a lot.’
She stopped and looked round at them.
‘It’s just to clear up my little contribution to the muddle,’ she said. ‘It was foolish of me from the start really. I should never have got into the habit of pretending I had never been to America just because it had such awful memories for me.’
‘There’s still no need to revive them,’ Smithers said.
‘Perhaps I’m best to in any case,’ said Daisy. ‘You see it was on that visit to Broadway that I told you about that it happened. First of all I lied about how long I was there. But I told you that. The show ran and ran. I suppose it had the effect of making Willy, that’s my husband, you know, my only one ever, bored. He took to going to lousy night clubs - that’s what I meant about George, he ran ones like them only not in New York - and then someone started him, Willy, I mean, off on drugs. He’s in a home over there now. He won’t ever come out. My call was to ask about him. It costs an awful lot but it bucks me up to hear he’s happy when things get me down.’
/> ‘He is happy, then?’ asked Smithers.
‘Oh, yes, he’s almost always quite happy. It’s just that it wouldn’t be safe for him to be out. And now I think I must go along to the police station.’
‘Why didn’t you go before, if I may ask?’ said Fremitt.
Daisy looked at him for two seconds before she spoke.
‘Because the person I shall be talking about is someone I very much respect,’ she said. ‘And I went on hoping the police would give up. I’m sure the person only killed George because he deserved to die.’
‘And now,’ said Smithers, ‘I’m going to escort you to the police station, and I think that at least one other person should come with me.’
‘You sound very solemn,’ said Daisy.
‘If you really have information which you alone know and which would expose the murderer, it’s a solemn business,’ Smithers said.
‘Who’s going with her?’ said Wemyss.
‘You must,’ Daisy said.
‘Very well, I will.’
‘Quick again,’ Kristen said.
‘It’s only common courtesy,’ Wemyss said. ‘What right have you to go putting a meaning on it like that?’
‘Only that common courtesy is something I’ve yet to find in you, Richie Wemyss. And you needn’t think you’re going to get away with this. I’m coming down with Daisy too.’
‘Well, you’ve made a point that that’s a guarantee of innocence,’ Wemyss said.
‘I think that anyone who wants to had better come,’ said Smithers. ‘Staying behind now would look like an admission of guilt.’
‘Then alibi or no alibi, I shall join you,’ said the major.
They all walked out to the street in a body and began to march along to the police station. When they were less than fifty yards away a police car drew up outside it.
Two uniformed constables got out and stood blocking the narrow pavement.
‘Peter,’ said Smithers, ‘it may be your father.’
‘Will I be allowed to see him later?’ Peter said.
‘I should think so, almost certainly. I’ll mention the matter to the inspector tomorrow morning.’
As he was speaking, Inspector Parker and Joe Dagg bundled together from the car and ran up the four steps into the station.
The others stood waiting.
‘Handcuffed still, I see,’ said the major.
‘Had I better wait a little?’ Daisy said.
‘No,’ said Smithers, ‘the sooner you’re inside the station the happier all of us will be.’
‘AH but one,’ said Wemyss.
‘Can’t you shut up, Richie?)’ Kristen said. ‘We’ve all got the idea: you’re innocent whoever else is guilty.’
Richard Wemyss compressed his lips and glared at Kristen.
‘We used to be such friends,’ he said.
The imitation was adequate.
‘I thought we were once,’ Kristen said. ‘But you’ve behaved so bloody callously over this business that I can see I was making a great mistake.’
Before Wemyss had time to reply Smithers said:
‘Once again I think we should find somewhere better than the public street to air our differences.’
‘I’ll go in then,’ said Daisy.
They walked the last few yards. On the steps of the station Daisy turned.
‘I’m going to ask one of you to do something,’ she said. ‘You know which one I mean.’
Glances exchanged.
‘Come and tell the inspector yourself as soon as you get the chance,’ Daisy said. ‘It’s the best way.’
She turned, hurried up the final three steps and in at the open door. They saw her say something to the constable at the inquiry desk. He took her into an inner room and shut the door.
Outside the party walked back in silence.
As they re-entered the inn Schlemberger said:
‘That’s a very remarkable woman.’
‘Either that or one with a very shrewd eye for publicity,’ said Wemyss.
He looked hard at Kristen. She said nothing.
‘I don’t venture to doubt her,’ the major said.
‘The curious thing is’, said Smithers, ‘that she could be perfectly right or wildly wrong. She combines what I’m sure is genuine vagueness with a demonstrable shrewdness.’
‘Do you know,’ Fremitt said, ‘I think that is the first judgement I have heard you pass on one of the company. It’s something I had observed. We have all, necessarily, been discussing each others’ characters recently. But this is the first time you have committed yourself.’
‘I begin to be sure of my ground here and there,’ said Smithers.
‘Well,’ Kristen said, ‘I don’t care if anybody thinks I’m slipping off to the police station or not, I’m going up to my room.’
‘One moment,’ the major said.
He went and stood between Kristen and the stairhead.
‘Before you go I think you have something to say.’
‘Oh, lord, what’s this now?’ Kristen said.
‘Simply that you have accused a lady of committing a murder. I don’t suppose anyone of us believed you, but now we’ve been privileged to hear that lady’s explanation I think you owe us a few words of apology.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Kristen said. ‘I was all wrought up. If you only knew how bloody I feel. I mentioned it to Daisy afterwards; she didn’t mind. And now, if you’ll excuse me.’
She pushed past the major and slowly climbed the stairs. Her face, between the two thick swags of ash blonde hair, white. The deep slash of red lipstick more than usually prominent.
Before she was out of hearing the major said:
‘You know what I’d do with a girl like that? I’d horsewhip her. She’s behaved abominably: she’s obviously quite unrepentant. She needs to have things brought home to her.’
Going into Peter’s room after dinner Smithers found him just scrambling into bed. The high hotel bed: the kicking pyjama legs.
‘You all right?’ he said.
‘Yes, thank you, sir.’
‘No worries about this evening? I’m afraid you hear more than you ought to.’
‘I don’t understand everything, but it’s nicest to know what’s going on.’
‘Perhaps it is. It doesn’t worry you?’
‘No. Dad will be all right, won’t he, sir?’
‘You needn’t worry. Do you trust me when I tell you that?’
‘Yes I do, sir.’
‘Good boy. Well, good night then. I don’t want to be away from the others too long. That fish, you know, he may snap at any moment.’
‘Keep your eye on the float, sir. That’s what Dad always tells me.’
‘Very good advice.’
‘Except he always forgets to do it himself.’
‘We’re all human. Good night.’
‘Good night, sir.’
‘Oh, by the way, one little thing I’ve been meaning to ask you all evening.’
‘Yes?’
A yawn.
‘Have you ever seen a sovereign?’
‘You mean the money, sir?’
‘Yes, a golden sovereign.’
‘Golden? Does that mean they are made of gold?’
‘Yes, they are.’
‘Oh sir, and I thought there wasn’t any money that colour.’
‘I thought you might have done. Poor Mr Schlemberger.’
‘Does that mean he was right?’
‘The major didn’t seem to think so, did he?’
‘No, he didn’t. Was what happened that I proved him wrong for the wrong reason?’
‘That’s about it’
‘And that doesn’t make him right.’
‘Nine out of ten for logic. Good night.’
‘Good night, sir. Poor old Schlemmie.’
Smithers was followed back into the public room by Schlemberger, whom he had seen at the telephone on his way downstairs.
‘Hell,’ Schl
emberger said, ‘I knew this conference would be a flop right from the start.’
‘The inspector doesn’t want you to go up to London?’ said Fremitt. ‘I had hoped it might be convenient for me to go soon myself. There’s a lot of business accumulating.’
‘So the case isn’t over,’ said Wemyss. ‘Odd.’
He took a long drink from his second brandy.
‘I guess it isn’t,’ said Schlemberger.
‘Did he say anything, Nosey Parker? Anything about Joe Dagg or Daisy?’ asked Kristen.
‘Not a thing,’ said Schlemberger. ‘Just that he would like me to wait. He said I could go up soon. In the near future. I suppose that means soon.’
‘I think if someone were to leave this room now you might find yourself in London tomorrow morning,’ said the major.
‘But don’t kid yourself anyone’s going to do that,’ Wemyss said.
They sat looking at each other. No more was said. Wemyss got up once, crossed to the bell, rang it, and ordered another brandy. The quarters striking on the stable yard clock could be easily heard. It was still very warm.
At 10.30 the major said: ‘Someone has got to make the first move. I’m going up to bed.’
The others began to leave. Smithers got up and prepared to follow them.
‘Has anyone seen my book?’ he asked. ‘Vol. 8 of The Decline and Fall. I’m sure I left it here.’
‘I read that once,’ said Kristen.
‘Really,’ Smithers said. ‘Did you enjoy it?’
‘It was very funny in bits,’ Kristen said.
‘A possible view.’
‘But I don’t remember it being all that long.’
‘A tribute to Gibbon, indeed.’
‘Was that who wrote it? I can never remember.’
‘Yes, that’s who it was. Edward Gibbon. I wouldn’t have thought one who “sighed as a lover and obeyed as a son” would have been altogether sympathetic to you.’
‘He said that, did he? Doesn’t sound much my line. Still I liked the book all right. Have you got to the bit yet where the hero is in prison and they smuggle caviare to him and one of the other convicts gets it and nearly upsets everything by wanting to complain about the quality of the marge?’
‘I’m afraid we were talking about different books,’ Smithers said. ‘A pity. Yours is by Evelyn Waugh. But they do have nearly the same title.’
Death and the Visiting Fireman Page 24