by L. A. Nisula
Inspector Burrows didn’t ask why, merely gestured to Constable Kittering to follow us.
When we got to Inspector Wainwright’s office, Inspector Burrows knocked then poked his head around the door. “Some visitors for you.”
“Plural?” I heard Inspector Wainwright ask in a tone of voice that suggested he knew I was one of them.
Inspector Burrows smiled. “I’ll leave you here, as there aren’t many chairs.”
I led the way into Inspector Wainwright’s office.
He had gotten rid of the third chair from when Milly and I visited, so I nodded for Mrs. O’Connall to take the non-tipping one. She took Amy on her lap. Tommy got the other chair, which he immediate began to rock back and forth, much to Inspector Wainwright’s annoyance. I leaned against the wall and left the file cabinet for Constable Kittering to lean on with his notepad.
“If you’ve finished directing things, Miss Pengear, perhaps you can tell me what’s going on.”
“Of course, unless you’d like me to start with introductions. Mrs. O’Connall, Tommy, Amy, this is Inspector Wainwright. He’s investigating the case. Inspector, Tommy has some things he’d like to tell you about the day of Miss Hayes’s murder.”
Inspector Wainwright sighed and picked up a pen. “Very well, Mr. O’Connall, how did you come by this information?”
At being called “Mr. O’Connall” by a real police inspector, Tommy stopped thumping his chair and sat up straight. “I run messages for the shops on Rusham Street, and on Wednesday, I was waiting on the corner to see if anyone needed me.”
Inspector Wainwright nodded and wrote something down. “And what did you see?”
Tommy launched into the same story he had told me, adding in the details of the storm that I had asked about. When he got to the description of Lanebridge, I saw Inspector Wainwright and Constable Kittering exchange a look that told me they’d grasped the significance.
When Tommy finally wound down, Inspector Wainwright nodded. “This is all very interesting. If you would give me a few minutes to consider it.”
Constable Kittering smiled at Tommy. “Do you suppose your sister would like some cake? I happen to know the commissary is serving banoffee, Victoria sponge, and chocolate today.”
“Is that where the real policemen eat?”
“It is indeed, but I can get you in.”
Tommy turned to his sister. “You’d like cake, wouldn’t you?” I had the feeling Tommy wanted to eat with the policemen.
The girl looked up at her mother, who nodded. She turned back to Tommy and nodded.
“Excellent,” Constable Kittering said. “Let’s all go down.”
“Yes, Miss Pengear, you can all go down.”
I ignored Inspector Wainwright. Constable Kittering glanced at me, saw I wasn’t moving, and led the rest away.
Inspector Wainwright waited until they had left the room and had enough time to get to the lift before he got up and closed the door behind me. He walked back to his desk and sat down again. “Miss Pengear, you said you would not look into the Tinripper Gang, and here you are with another witness, who is now in danger from the gang if they find out he spoke to us. One I didn’t need. I already know they were behind the assault on Miss Wilson.”
“I wasn’t looking into it, I was looking into the murder. Tommy’s been talking about being there to everyone in the area. They could easily have found out he knew something. This way he gets your protection.”
“The murder and the gang...”
I cut him off. “Are related. You thought the two charity men were part of the gang that night, didn’t you?”
He didn’t answer. I took it as confirmation.
“And they match the description I got of the two men fighting outside of number 24 on Wednesday afternoon after Nora left number 24 with Mr. Graham and before the storm, so before Miss Hayes had been there. That connects them to the house before the murder.”
“I can assure you the Tinripper Gang is not in the habit of strangling random people, and Lanebridge and his men certainly don’t leave bodies lying around where they can be found. It would make our jobs much easier if they did.”
“But someone in a panic, someone who gives the orders not carries them out, someone like that might panic if they thought they had been found out and strangle an intruder with the nearest available object.”
“Are you suggesting Miss Hayes found out Mr. Fetherton was part of the gang, and he killed her?”
“Of course not. Even Randall’s not idiotic enough to knowingly use a name known to police as a counterfeiter on his own mailbox. Besides, he has an alibi. He spent most of the day at a pub. And he doesn’t live at number 24. Mrs. Fetherton does.”
Inspector Wainwright stared at me. “And you’re making this leap from some coincidences of gang members in the area?” But he was listening.
“Tommy said they come there often, every other Wednesday. Think about it. She wanted to get Nora out of the house every Wednesday, so she sends her out for a treat to a teashop she’s never been to, and never bothers to check where she goes, leaving the house empty. She knew you wanted to see inside the safes, so she opened them when you weren’t around. What if there was evidence of counterfeiting in them? And she found Miss Hayes poking around in the box room? Couldn’t she have panicked, grabbed the nearest thing, in this case, the drapery cord, and strangled her, and then shoved the body behind the desk?”
“And the Tinripper Gang?”
“I think you already suspect that they were the men collecting for the charity. You thought so even before you got my description; it’s why you asked for it. If Mrs. Fetherton had really believed they were collecting for a charity that night, they would have had to arrange the visit beforehand, and there wasn’t much time between Miss Hayes being murdered and their arrival to do it. She acted as if she knew they were coming. What if she did because she was the one who arranged it? What if they were really there to collect the body and dispose of it? It would explain why Nora didn’t see anything put out for a charity beforehand and why Mrs. Fetherton couldn’t give you a name. You’d check and know at once that they weren’t legitimate. It also explains my disappearing curtain. The only people in that room were me—who I’ve ruled out; Milly—who was never alone there and was tending to Randall when I left; Randall—who was out cold for a good bit of time then with Milly; Constable Declan—who’s too good a policeman to hide evidence; and Mrs. Fetherton—who could easily have slipped in and hidden the blood-stained curtain while Milly was busy reviving Randall and I was out getting the police. You’d have had to account for the blood and the earlier fight might have come up, and then you would have been looking for two men, one with a recently broken nose, as possible witnesses. And it answers the riddle of the alibi. I assume you spoke to the cab driver I told you about?”
“Constable Edwards questioned him, yes.”
“Then you know that Randall had a perfectly good alibi for the day. So why did Mrs. Fetherton bother with that silly Poet’s Corner story that Randall managed to confuse? Milly said she saw the ticket stubs and everything.”
Inspector Wainwright closed his eyes. “So she would have an alibi.”
“Exactly. And we would think Randall needed it. By the time we figured out that he didn’t need it, she’d have shored up her own. She probably sent someone to go there for real when she realized she’d need it, or to pick up some used tickets from the pavement. They don’t have names on them, only times, and people drop them outside the doors when they leave all the time. And Poet’s Corner is a stable alibi, it’s not going to change overnight or have a water pipe flood it like the Imperial.”
“What does the Imperial have to do with anything?”
“Nothing whatsoever. And you are quite lucky I saved you that particular dead end.”
Inspector Wainwright sighed. “I don’t want to know what that means. It would be risky to leave her in the box room, and the Tinripper Gang doesn’t like to take ris
ks.” But he was still paying attention, still waiting to see if I had something worth following up on.
“Why would it be risky? We weren’t supposed to be there. Randall never told her we were coming, and even then Milly and Randall were supposed to be in the sitting room setting up for tea. Milly was the one who went into the box room looking for chairs. No one would think she’d do that, not when there was a parlor and a drawing room with plenty of chairs, not if they didn’t know her. And there’s one other thing. Twice that I know of, Randall has tried to pay with counterfeit coins and been stopped. At least once he got the coin from his mother’s purse. And the day Nora was attacked, Randall heard her ask for my address earlier. That was when she wanted to tell me about there being nothing put out for the charity. Only Randall and Mrs. Fetherton knew she was going out. Mrs. Fetherton sent her. She could have arranged the assault before, and planned it so Constable Declan would be past that part of his beat on a normal day. Again, she couldn’t account for the pickpocket anymore than she could Randall’s thoughtlessness or Milly’s nosiness.”
I expected Inspector Wainwright to make some comment on my own nosiness, but he said nothing and stared at the notes on his desk. I waited to see what he’d say. It seemed best to let him think this new information through. After a few minutes of silence, he asked, “Who have you shared this theory with?”
“Only you, although I think Constable Declan knows the direction my thoughts were going when I started talking to Tommy.”
“I see. Then I want you to go downstairs and have that cake you were offered, then go home. Do not tell anyone about this. Do not continue to investigate. You might suggest Miss Prynne go out of town for a few days if she can arrange it. I’d say for you to go as well, but I suspect you’ll ignore me. Understood?”
I did understand. Inspector Wainwright believed me. He was going to act on this information, and he wanted me out of the way when he did it, either to keep me from tipping any of the Tinripper Gang off or possibly he was actually concerned about my safety. “Actually, I’ve never been to Bath. Milly mentioned wanting to go there with Randall. Perhaps a short holiday is in order.”
Inspector Wainwright pulled something out of his desk drawer. “I’ve heard Bath can be very interesting if you’re a fan of Austen. And there’s a train from Paddington Station at eight tonight.” He slid the train schedule he’d consulted across to me.
I noted the times for the train he’d mentioned. “As soon as that?”
“Don’t bring Mr. Fetherton with you.”
“You actually think I want to be stuck in a train for hours with Randall? Please.”
Inspector Wainwright actually smiled at that.
“I think I’ll skip the cake if I have to pack and then see that Milly is packed for—two days?”
“Four nights should give you ample time to see everything. Not counting tonight.”
“Four nights it is. I’ll bring you a postcard when I get back.”
That didn’t seem to interest him as much as it would me. Not an Austen devoté, I deduced.
~*~*~
I left Scotland Yard and went straight to Milly’s lodgings. My flat was practically on the way to the station, so it would be foolish to go back there then rush off to fetch Milly. When I got there, it was to find Milly with her bank papers spread out across every available surface and a large number of notes attached to everything. Apparently she had decided that Randall’s financial advice was not quite what she’d imagined. “Are your stocks doing what they’re supposed to?” I asked.
“I have no idea, and I won’t know for weeks if it’s sorted out. I’m thinking of going to the bank in the morning and seeing what they think of it.”
“That’s a good plan, but I’ve just been to see Inspector Wainwright. He thinks we should be out of town for a few days, and I’ve never been to Bath.”
“Wonderful! I’ve been wanting to go back. The last time I was there, Mr. Winkleford was constantly distracted.”
“The wife?”
“No, the nanny.”
I decided not to ask for details.
“How long are we staying?”
“Five nights, counting tonight.”
“Tonight? When are we leaving?”
“The eight o’clock from Paddington. I’ll help you pack.”
“Then Inspector Wainwright is close to an arrest?” Milly went to her dresser and began pulling out clothes.
I reached under the bed and pulled out her suitcase. “I assume so. I’ll tell you all of it on the train.”
Milly dumped an armful of things into the open case. “It’s a good thing Randall and I had our holiday all planned, then. I’m sure the hotel won’t mind that we’re coming a little early.”
No wonder they’d been so desperate to get the money for the trip, if it was already booked and planned for. I waited, but there was no suggestion of Randall accompanying us. That was a relief. I wasn’t sure how I would have dissuaded her otherwise, as telling her he was a suspect would surely have fallen on deaf ears if she were inclined to believe him and lead to her insisting we stay to help him, and telling him would most likely tip off his mother and spoil the whole thing.
Chapter 17
FIVE NIGHTS LATER, we returned to my flat to find a note from Randall dated the morning after we’d left saying “Urgent!!!!” with four exclamation points and a fifth trailing off the card, and another from Inspector Wainwright dated that morning asking us to come in for our final statements at our earliest convenience.
Milly tossed Randall’s note aside after she’d glanced at it. She spent a few seconds longer on Inspector Wainwright’s then sighed. “I suppose I’ll see him in the morning. I’m too tired now.”
As our trip had been a bit more adventurous than I had expected, I understood her reluctance to go see him at once. “I’m sure he’ll understand. It’s not like he really needs us for anything.”
I knew Milly was tired when she wandered off to find a cab without trying to get me to pay for it. I gave her enough time to find one and start for home, then went out myself to take the Underground to Scotland Yard. I was far too curious about what had happened in our absence to wait, and it would be easier to get answers out of Inspector Wainwright if Milly wasn’t there.
For once, Inspector Wainwright had left our names at the staff lift, so I didn’t have to wait to see him. When I got to his office, the door was open and he was seated at his desk with what looked like several weeks’ worth of paperwork spread out before him. I tapped on the door then went in and sat in the better chair.
“And how was Bath, Miss Pengear?”
I didn’t think he was really interested in an account of our activities, so I merely said, “Very nice, as I expected. I did bring you a postcard.” I took the picture of sea bathers from my handbag and slid it over.
Inspector Wainwright glanced down at it but didn't comment, even to ask why I'd brought a picture of sea-bathers from a town on the River Avon. “Thank you. Now I need to clarify a few things for the report.” He pulled one of the many files towards himself and started reviewing everything that had happened the night at Mrs. Fetherton’s.
There were quite a few questions, but oddly, very few involving the so-called charity collectors, and absolutely nothing about my activities after that night. When he’d gone through all the questions he had, he closed the folder and put it in a new stack. “I’m sure you are quite tired from your train journey. I won’t delay you anymore.”
I certainly wouldn’t be able to rest until I’d gotten the details of what happened while I’d been away. “Can I ask a few questions?”
“As I doubt I could stop you...”
I wanted to ask him to tell me everything that had happened in my absence, and since I had left without a fuss when he’d suggested it, I thought he ought to repay me with a few very complete answers, but I knew I would have better luck with specific questions. “Who have you arrested?”
“In this case
or in general?” When I didn’t answer he went on. “Mrs. Fetherton, as she was the murderer.”
“What happened exactly?”
Inspector Wainwright sighed, although it was quite close to a groan. “What would you like me to tell you? That Mrs. Fetherton was the head of the Tinripper Gang? That she went out on Wednesday to distribute the next batch of coins only to discover they weren’t up to their usual standard, so she summoned two of her lieutenants to join her at the house to figure out what went wrong? That after they had left, she heard noise in the box room and found Miss Hayes poking around too close to the counterfeiting molds kept in the safes, so she strangled her with the garrote she carried in her pocket?”
Without thinking, I asked, “Not the curtain cord?” I regretted interrupting him at once and worried he wouldn’t tell me the rest, but Inspector Wainwright didn’t pause.
“Not the curtain cord, that would have been meant to tie the curtain around the body, but someone wasn’t very good at knots. Then she summoned back her lieutenants and left the window open, hoping the cold would prevent the body from decomposing and leaving a smell behind when they took it away to dump it in the river. But that plan went pear-shaped when an idiot and two busybodies turned up on her doorstep.”
“And Nora’s attack?”
“If the maid started asking to see the busybody who was asking the most questions, then she would have to be silenced before she could tell her anything she might have seen, wouldn’t she? Is that what you wanted to hear? Because that is not how the report will read, not unless Scotland Yard wants to go to the trouble of relocating the lot of you.”
So Scotland Yard considered the gang so dangerous that they were altering the facts in the official file. I was surprised he was bothering to tell me the truth at all. I matched his hypothetical tone as I asked, “Is this the sort of thing Mrs. Fetherton would confess to?”