He picked up the ashtray from the small table beside the desk and held it forward. Terry looked at it fixedly...it was the stubbed three-quarter length of an oval Turkish cigarette. He had forgotten all about it until now. It was the one he had extinguished the morning before because he did not care for the exotic tobacco.
“I’ve told the Super there’s only one person around here who smokes that kind of cigarette,” Turner remarked in his quiet voice, his eyes studying Terry’s face. “Sid Eldridge, of course. But the Super wants your verification.”’
Terry found it hard to think straight. This unexpected spanner in the works had thrown things right out of gear.
“Well, chief?” Standish asked. “Does the second projectionist smoke this kind of cigarette, or not?”
“Yes, he does.” Terry gave a reluctant nod. “But surely you are not thinking that he committed this burglary?”
“I’m not thinking anything. I’m just making routine enquiries, that’s all. You say that as far as you know nobody ever came into this office unless you were in it? And that includes Eldridge?”
“Certainly it does. In fact nobody could come in. Outside of Mr. Turner I was the only one with a key.”
“I see. Then you can’t explain how this cigarette got here?”
“No....” Terry was not quite sure, but he fancied he saw suspicion drifting away from him. The Super pondered for a moment or two and then he nodded.
“Very well, chief, that’s all. You might ask your second to come down and have a word with us, will you?”
“And if you don’t mind, I’ll have the office key back,” Turner said, holding out his hand.
Terry unhooked it from his ring and then left the office.
He still could not see how things were going to turn out. He did not in the least like the sudden twist in circumstances. When be got back to the projection room he gave the Superintendent’s order and from Sid received a stare of amazement.
“What does he want me for?” Sid demanded, rubbing his mop of sandy hair.
“I’ve not the vaguest idea, but you’d better go and see. I’ll take over the rehearsal.”
“I’ll tell that uniformed old buzzard a thing or two,” Sid grumbled. “Calling me off like this just when the show’s getting to the interesting part.”
He lumbered out of the projection room and the spring door slammed shut behind him. Terry finished the rehearsal show, with Billy’s assistance, but he had little idea after so many interruptions what it was all about.
He lounged across the box, hands in pockets, and went out on to the fire escape. The sun was bright and warm. Dim, startling thoughts were at the back of his mind. Vera Holdsworth, he felt sure, really did care for Sid. In fact she had admitted it at the racecourse. For another thing, Sid himself had said it was serious enough for him to think about getting an engagement ring. And if Sid ran foul of the police for the burglary, what then?
Would Vera stand by and let him be suspected—even jailed if circumstantial evidence added up to anything—or would she tell what she knew and risk the fact that Terry could not prove she had stolen his £200?
“Blast that Turkish cigarette!” Terry breathed, gripping the iron rail and staring over the agglomeration of back yards.
He turned with a sudden start at the slam of the projection room’s spring door. Sid’s ungainly figure came into view.
“Well?” Terry asked quietly, as Sid came out to him.
“It beats me!” Sid declared, frowning. “I do believe that dimwit of a Super thinks I did it!”
Terry laughed derisively, even though his nerves were taut.
“That’s what I think,” Sid continued. “But—Gosh, but he hasn’t half got it in for me! Seems he’s questioned most of the usherettes and all of them have brought up that business of yesterday morning when we had that row over Vera.”
Terry stared. “But what the devil’s that got to do with. it?”
“Plenty! Remember me saying that you’d no right to toss around two hundred quid whilst I am pinching and scraping to get a house together for Vera and me?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Well, the Super seems to think—though he didn’t say so openly—that that might be a good reason for me wanting to pinch some cash!”
“Ridiculous!” Terry exclaimed, though his mouth was dry. There seemed to be a whole flock of things he had overlooked which were now popping up and confronting him menacingly.
“Mostly, it’s that cigarette that makes things bad for me,” Sid went on deliberately. “One of my Turkish ones. I didn’t put it there, but the Super says I must have done. He also says I’m tough enough physically to have smashed in the office door. On top of that he says it wouldn’t have been hard for me to get the safe combination from Madge Tansley.”
“But surely you’ve got an alibi for last night?” Terry demanded.
“No, I haven’t.” Sid shook his untidy head worriedly. “That’s the rotten part of it. Before going home last night I went for a walk round to get some of the copper fumes out of my lungs. There is an hour I can’t account for after leaving here. I saw Vera as far as her home and then strolled back to my own place by the longest way round.”
Terry surveyed the wilderness of back yards and the bricks and stones, which he had come to know with intimate detail.
“It’s all circumstantial, Sid,” he said.
“I don’t feel like trusting to that when there’s one person who can clear me. I mean you!” Sid was silent for a moment. “That Turkish fag must be the one I gave you some time ago. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t say so to the Super.”
“Matter of fact, I couldn’t think straight for the moment.”
“Then it’s about time you started remembering, isn’t it?” There was a grimness in Sid’s voice now and a hard glitter in his blue eyes. Terry hesitated for a moment, and then smiled. All of a sudden he wondered why he had been such an idiot. Of course!
If he proved the cigarette was one he had smoked that would lift all suspicion from Sid. Vera would thereby be silenced again because with Sid out of danger she would have no cause to speak.
“I’ll clear it up right away,” Terry said, straightening himself. “Believe me, Sid, I’d have explained sooner only I just didn’t—”
“I know—you didn’t think about it. All right. But for Pete’s sake make them turn the heat off me!”
Terry gave a reassuring smile as he turned to go. “Leave it to me!”
His smile faded, however, as he descended the stairs towards the foyer. He was going to clear Sid because he had to in order to make himself safe. But a larger and more complicated problem loomed: the very one he had hoped to keep hidden—the £200 he had lost on a race bet. He could not think how he had come to overlook the fact that the usherettes would be bound to testify as to the amount involved.
“You didn’t overlook it,” he told himself. “It would never have come up at all but for that Turkish cigarette. That involved Sid. The Super had got to find out if Sid had grounds for wanting to steal two hundred pounds. And now everything’s falling to bits.”
Terry did his best to eradicate the lines of worry from his face as he knocked on the manager’s office door. On being told to come in he found the manager and Superintendent seated in discussion.
“Yes, Terry?” Turner glanced up, his face serious and unsmiling.
“I’ve been thinking,” Terry said, pushing the door to. “I just remembered something about that Turkish cigarette. It was one I smoked myself, then I stubbed it out because I didn’t like it.”
“Oh?” Turner exchanged a glance with the Super. “And when was this, Terry?”
“Yesterday morning, when I was in here. Madge—Miss Tansley—came to put the money in the safe.”
“She doesn’t remember the aroma of a Turkish cigarette,” the Superintendent commented. “I’ve already made sure of that on the chance that it might have belonged to you.”
“She hardly could: I smoked it after she had gone. Sid gave me the cigarette, and as I say I stubbed it out because I didn’t care for the flavour.”
Not a muscle moved on the Super’s big, square-jawed face. His next comment was brief and to the point.
“Been a long time remembering it, haven’t you?”
“Yes, I’m afraid I have,” Terry admitted. “Just got crowded out of my mind with one thing and another.”
The Super reflected, and in spite of himself Terry flinched under the cold, probing eyes.
“Whilst you are here, chief, there’s another matter I’d like to take up with you,” the Super resumed. “From all accounts you did a spot of gambling at the races on Tuesday—to the tune of some two hundred pounds loss. Right?”
Terry felt the screw tightening.
“It’s a mug’s game,” the Super added surprisingly. “And you’re fortunate in that you have so much money to throw about. Who’s your bookie?”
“George Naylor.”
“Naylor, eh? Mmm, I know that gent.”
“I don’t see,” Terry said, making a tremendous effort, “how you can attach the coincidence of my losing two hundred pounds to the money that has been stolen. I know it was the same amount—in fact two hundred and five pounds—because Madge Tansley told me as much. But you don’t think I robbed the safe, surely? I was at home when the burglary must have occurred.”
“Tell me something,” the Super said. “Why are you trying to cover up for Sid Elbridge?”
“But I’m not— If you mean about that cigarette—”
“I do—and though I’m all for loyalty in its proper place, it’s plain crazy when it obstructs the law.”
“Look,” Terry persisted, “you can’t mean that you don’t believe me when I say I smoked that cigarette?”
“I think,” Turner put in quietly, “that you’d better get back upstairs, Terry. Thanks for all you’ve told us.”
Terry went, more bewildered than he had been upon arrival.
He just did not know where he stood. Apparently the police believed that Sid was the culprit—and yet the thing Terry had expected, a direct question as to how he had had £200 with which to bet, had never been asked! Turner alone knew why. He was wary. Long experience as an employer had taught him just how much he could ask and do.
He had no authority for enquiring why an employee had two hundred pounds, even though he could wonder privately about it. It was the Superintendent’s job to tackle a thing like that—but even he was holding off until he had a definite angle to follow up.
When he got back to the projection room Terry found Sid looking at him eagerly.
“Well, what happened? Did you clear me?”
“No. The Super wouldn’t believe me.”
Sid’s impulsive anger gushed to the surface. “I’ve damned well had enough of this! I’m going to—”
“Just a minute!” Terry caught Sid’s powerful arm and made him pause. “It won’t do you any good, Sid. Don’t go off half cocked.”
With an effort Sid calmed down. “Then who do you think did it?” he demanded. “It could only have been somebody with a knowledge of the safe combination, and what outside person could possibly know that?”
“An expert burglar wouldn’t need the combination for an ancient safe like that.” Terry answered. “He could do it by touch. Frankly, I think we’re both in something of a spot. We’d better keep quiet until we see what happens.”
CHAPTER FOUR
PLAN FOR MURDER
Immediately upon leaving the cinema at noon Terry hurried to George Naylor’s, paid his £200 to that obese gentleman’s grim satisfaction—and then went on to his rooms for lunch. He ate very little and had a hard struggle to keep his inner worries under control.
“Anything the matter, Terry?” Mrs. Gordon asked in concern, as he sat staring at his dinner.
He gave a start. “Oh—er—” He forced a smile. “Trouble at the cinema, I’m afraid.”
“Oh.... You mean the show didn’t turn up on time?”
“Not that: the show’s all right. There’s been a burglary and since all of us are under suspicion it gets a bit disturbing.”
A sudden thought struck Terry. “If the police should call here, Mrs. Gordon—and they might—you won’t forget to tell them that I got home at the usual time last night, will you?”
“Of course I’ll tell them,” Mrs. Gordon promised, smiling. “Now do get on with your lunch, Terry.”
Terry started on his meal, even though he had to force himself—then he set off for the cinema again, mentally holding his breath, for fear of what might assail him when he got there. Nothing did. Before he could ascend the staircase to the upper regions, however, he saw Vera Holdsworth bob into view from behind the glass doors leading to the stalls.
“Just a minute, Terry....”
“What do you want?” Terry stopped on the bottom stair.
She came closer to him and kept her voice low. “I went home with Sid at lunch time. He told me what’s been happening. The police think he committed that burglary.”
“I know. They can’t prove it, though.”
“You bet they can’t!” Vera’s blue eyes were venomous. “Sid’s about the only person I’ve ever cared two hoots about, and if you think he’s going to get nailed for something you did you can think again.”
“Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” Terry asked. “Nobody’s accused him of anything yet.”
“If they do, I’ll clear him!”
“And lay yourself open to a packet of trouble?”
Vera smiled unpleasantly. “I’ve had time to think over what you said to me last night. Situation’s altered a lot since then. The police know now that you lost two hundred pounds on the races. I got all the girls to lay that information on pretty thick, ’cept Helen Prescott. But then, she always is too good to live.”
“Go on,” Terry said ominously.
“I look at it this way,”’ Vera went on. “If it comes to it, I’ll tell the police that I found you stealing the cash box. I will also tell them that you had your own money pinched at the races—which they don’t know about so far—and that will give them good reason for thinking that you’d need two hundred in a hurry by any possible means. You can’t prove that I took your two hundred, and from the way I’ll talk they won’t suspect that I ever could—anymore than you did.”
“And if I tell them that you planted one hundred and fifty for a fur coat out of the two hundred you stole from me, what do you think would happen?” Terry demanded. “They’ll ask you if it is so, and the name of the firm to whom you gave the order for the fur coat. Your goose will be cooked to a turn.”
“Perhaps.” Vera leaned against the post at the base of the handrail. “Perhaps! I’ve thought that one out, you know. On the one hand, I could refuse to answer the question, and they couldn’t force me to answer it. On the other hand, I could say that I’d taken the money from home.”
“You could—what?” Terry found it impossible to fathom the depths of the girl’s scheming mind. “Where would you get one hundred and fifty from, at home? Your folks aren’t that rich, aren’t they?”
“No they’re not—worse luck, but dad is the secretary and treasurer of the bowling club. I know he has quite two hundred pounds in the house at this very moment. The new subscriptions are just in, and he won’t be handing them over for another fortnight—or even looking at them. I’m simply saying that if it became necessary—but not otherwise—I’d take the hundred and fifty of that money as easy as that, and say I spent it on a fur coat. That would cut the ground from under your feet, wouldn’t it?”
“Perhaps. Wouldn’t do you any good, though. Your dad would certainly give you in charge.”
“You don’t know my dad,” Vera murmured. “All he’d do would be to find the necessary money somewhere else, give me a talking to, and let it go at that. He wouldn’t dare say too much. You see, I know something about dad, an
d he wouldn’t like me to talk it out loud.”
“So that’s where your vile streak comas from?” Terry blazed, and Vera’s expression changed.
“You shut up, Terry!”
Terry gave a contemptuous smile. “With such a marvellous plan worked out, why don’t you adopt it?”
“Because I’m not such a fool as to put myself in a spot if I can avoid it. I’ll only do it if the police pick on Sid.”
Terry set his mouth and went on up the stairway. The girl called something uncomplimentary after him, but he did not hear the words.... He found that Sid and Billy had already arrived by the fire escape route and were in the projection room lacing up the machines with film for the afternoon matinee. He could hear them exchanging argument as he took off his jacket. Finally he went up to the projection room to join them.
Sid waited until Billy had departed to his usual haunt in the winding room below—then he walked out onto the fire escape where Terry was standing gazing into the hot afternoon sunlight.
“Terry,” he said moodily, “I’ve got butterflies in the stomach after that confounded burglary. If only something would happen! I’ll lay evens the police think I did it. Why don’t they do something?”
Terry was silent for a moment, then: “I met Vera as I came in. She was telling me that you’d told her all about it—that the police suspect you.”
“Sure I told her. No reason why I shouldn’t, is there?”
“I suppose not. But do you think she’ll keep it to herself? Frankly, I don’t. Or perhaps you like the idea of scandal and gossip being spread through the staff?”
Sid shook his head. “As usual, you’ve got Vera weighed up all wrong. She won’t say anything about me. We’re too fond of each other for that.”
Terry raised one shoulder and then lowered it. There was a negative expression on his handsome face.
“Look, Terry, you won’t like this,” Sid exclaimed suddenly, “and it’s no kind of talk to hand out to a workmate, but— Well, at lunch time I got to thinking. You didn’t; do it, did you? To recover the two hundred quid you lost on that horse?”
Pattern of Murder Page 5