Mystery at Olympia

by John Rhode

  ‘You did not visit the Solent stand on Monday?’

  ‘No, I certainly did not.’

  ‘Did you know that your uncle was at Olympia on Monday?’

  ‘I did not. I cannot understand what induced him to go there. On the previous day, while I was at Firlands, I mentioned that I should look in at the show on Monday afternoon if I had time. My uncle made no suggestion that he intended to be there at the same time.’

  Hanslet nodded. ‘Then you didn’t see him when you visited the Comet stand?’ he asked conversationally.

  ‘I did not see my uncle at Olympia,’ Philip replied firmly. ‘Nor did I visit the Comet stand. I was not able to approach it within several yards.’

  ‘That’s a pity. There are several things about the new transmission which would have interested you. One of its essential parts is the pressure valve. But I dare say that your friend Mr Sulgrave has told you all about it?’

  Philip shook his head. ‘I know nothing about it,’ he replied. ‘I haven’t seen George since the show opened, and before that he was pledged to secrecy.’

  ‘This pressure valve is a mushroom-shaped piece of steel. It weighs about twelve pounds and is very convenient to hold. Just the thing to hit anybody with, in fact.’

  But Philip’s expression showed no trace of confusion. ‘I really haven’t the slightest idea why you should imagine that this pressure valve should have any interest for me,’ he replied. ‘I do not claim to possess a mechanical mind. So long as a car gives me satisfaction, I do not trouble myself about the details of its construction.’

  ‘I see. You can’t offer any explanation of your uncle’s remarkably sudden death at Olympia?’

  ‘I have no explanation to offer. In my own defence, I could point out that the medical evidence is to the effect that it was in no way due to the effects of carbon monoxide poisoning. That, in itself, proves my innocence.’

  Hanslet had made up his mind as to his procedure. He had delivered his blow, and had forced Philip into a partial confession. He had hoped, by following up his advantage, to make this confession complete. Since he had failed, he would adopt other tactics.

  ‘I came here this morning provided with a warrant for your arrest, Mr Bryant,’ he said. ‘I shall not, however, execute that warrant. What further action I may take in consequence of the statement which you have made I cannot at present say. I should recommend you to consider very seriously your position. The sudden death of your uncle, following immediately upon your attempt to poison him with carbon monoxide, will, no doubt, be considered as significant by the coroner’s jury. Good-morning.’

  And, without giving Philip time to reply, he left the flat and took a taxi to Scotland Yard.

  There he sent for Inspector Jarrold, and informed him of the latest developments of the case. ‘Bryant’s our man,’ he said. ‘We’ve got his motive, and we know now how he did it. We could proceed against him on a charge of attempted murder. But I don’t think we’ve got enough evidence yet to convince a jury on the capital charge. I’m inclined to give him rope, and perhaps he will hang himself.’

  ‘Meaning that you won’t arrest him just yet?’

  ‘That’s it. I want you to have both him and Mrs Bryant shadowed. One or other of them may give themselves away. Or Bryant may try to make a bolt for it, and that would be additional proof of his guilt. Meanwhile, I’m going to try to find out if anyone else saw him at Olympia on Monday. And I’m going to start with Sulgrave.’

  That same afternoon saw Hanslet at High Elms. He asked for an interview with George Sulgrave, which was readily accorded him. But George, though anxious to be helpful, could not tell him very much.

  ‘I was demonstrating on the stand nearly twelve hours a day,’ he said. ‘From morning till night there was a surging crowd round it. But you can understand that I could only see and recognise people in the front row, and then I had no time to speak to them personally. I never saw Mr Pershore at all. I did not know until next day who it was that had fainted by the stand. And I certainly never saw Philip Bryant, though he had promised to visit the stand if he could manage it.’

  ‘Were you surprised when you heard that Mr Pershore had visited the Motor Show?’

  George Sulgrave smiled. ‘I certainly expressed surprise,’ he replied. ‘But I wasn’t really so astonished as I pretended to be.’

  ‘Had you asked him to visit the Comet stand, then?’ Hanselet asked suspiciously.

  ‘Oh, no, I should never have thought of doing that. Pershore always professed a dislike of cars and everything connected with them. But, as a matter of fact, he was one of our customers.’

  ‘One of your customers!’ Hanslet exclaimed. ‘Do you mean that he intended to buy a car from you?’

  ‘More than that. He actually bought a car from us, last June.’

  This seemed so much at variance with all that Hanslet had hitherto heard that he stared at Sulgrave incredulously. ‘Are you quite sure of that?’ he asked.

  ‘Perfectly certain. He asked me to keep it a dead secret, and up till now I have done so. Now that he’s dead, I suppose there’s no harm in telling the whole story, if you want to hear it.’

  ‘I do most decidedly want to hear it,’ Hanslet replied.

  ‘Well, one day last June, Pershore rang me up at the showrooms. He said he was alone, since Betty was away for a few days, and asked me if I would dine with him one night. We fixed up a date and I went.

  ‘After dinner he took me into that study of his, and said he wanted to talk business. He was such a long time coming to the point, that at first I couldn’t make out what he wanted. He talked about Betty. How fond he was of her, and how he liked to give her everything she wanted. Finally he said that he’d made up his mind to give her a surprise. He was going to buy her a car and give it her on her birthday.’

  ‘When is Miss Rissington’s birthday?’ Hanslet asked.

  ‘Some time in August. But, so far as I know, she never got the car. Or, if she did, she never said anything to me about it. Pershore impressed upon me that it was to be a great secret, and made me promise faithfully that I would never breathe a word to anybody. He went so far as to hint that if anything came out about this car, he would make things unpleasant for me. He was referring to the mortgage on this house, of course.’

  ‘One moment, Mr Sulgrave. Did you know that he intended that the mortgage should be cancelled on his death?’

  ‘I did not. More than once he had hinted that he intended to do something for me, for my father’s sake. But I had no idea what he meant to do. I certainly didn’t expect what amounts, in effect, to a legacy of five thousand pounds.’

  Hanslet was impressed by the sincerity of his tone. ‘All right, go ahead,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry I interrupted you.’

  ‘I gave the required promise, and asked him what type of car he wanted. He replied that he knew nothing about cars, which was quite true. It was essential that the car he bought should be exactly like Philip Bryant’s, down to the smallest detail. Same horse-power, same type of body, same colour. I told him that since Philip’s car was standard in every way, there would be no difficulty about that.

  ‘He asked me when the car would be ready for him, and I replied that he could have delivery a week from that day. I explained the formalities of registration and insurance, and told him that I could do all that for him. He gave me a cheque for the whole amount then and there, and I carried the deal through.’

  ‘But what became of the car?’ Hanslet demanded.

  ‘I haven’t the slightest idea where it is now. Pershore told me that when the car was ready, he would send a man to collect it, and that he would meanwhile arrange for somewhere for it to be kept till Betty’s birthday. The man duly turned up, armed with Pershore’s authorisation, and that’s the last I heard of it. Pershore has never mentioned the matter to me since.’

  ‘Do you remember the registration number of the car, Mr Sulgrave?’

  ‘Not off-hand, but if you care to ri
ng me up at the showrooms tomorrow, I can tell you.’

  ‘I’ll come and see you there. I want some particulars of the pressure valve that forms part of your new transmission.’

  George glanced at him curiously. ‘Do you?’ he said. ‘I wonder what it is about that valve that interests unlikely people. There was a queer old boy on the stand last night, after the show had closed, cross-examining me about it.’

  Hanslet smiled. ‘I think I know that queer old boy,’ he replied. ‘Good-afternoon, Mr Sulgrave. We’ll meet again in the morning.’

  CHAPTER XIII

  ‘And that’s that,’ Hanslet concluded. ‘I couldn’t bounce a full confession out of Bryant. Not that that worries me much. He’ll give himself away, sooner or later. That type of murderer always does.’

  He was sitting in Dr Priestley’s study that same Sunday evening, and had just recounted his adventures of the day. His host had listened to him closely, and seemed to display a greater interest in the case than he had hitherto done. But the assured tone of the superintendent’s last remark seemed to displease him. ‘And if Bryant does not give himself away, as you so confidently expect, what then?’ he asked sharply.

  ‘Oh, I’ll run him to earth all right,’ Hanslet replied. ‘It’s only a matter of patience, after all. Lots of people must have seen him at Olympia on Monday. Some of them would recognise him if they were confronted with him. And eventually I shall run to earth somebody who saw him carrying something heavy and bulky. Perhaps he was even seen to walk to the Solent stand. It will be my job to keep on until I get the evidence I want. Weary work, I grant you.’

  ‘You are convinced that this evidence exists?’ Dr Priestley asked.

  ‘It must exist. This is a cut and dried case. We know the identity of the murderer, and the means he adopted. It’s only a matter of getting corroborative evidence which will convince a jury. And, with so many people about at the time, it’s a certainty that this evidence will be forthcoming.’

  Dr Priestley shook his head. ‘The presumption that Bryant killed his uncle is very strong, I admit,’ he said. ‘But upon what grounds do you treat it as a foregone conclusion?’

  Hanslet shrugged his shoulders. ‘I know your methods pretty well by now, Professor,’ he replied. ‘If somebody puts a drawing-pin point upwards in my chair, and I sit on it, I know immediately what has happened. But not you. You would extract the drawing-pin from your anatomy and examine it for traces of blood before you would be satisfied. Isn’t that so?’

  Dr Priestley smiled. ‘All first impressions require to be verified before they can be classed as correct,’ he replied.

  ‘This isn’t a matter of first impressions. Here’s a man who admits having tried to murder another by poisoning him with carbon monoxide. His motive for doing so is evident. On the very next day his intended victim dies by another means. The person is proved to have been in the vicinity at the time. What further proof of his guilt could you possibly want?’

  ‘I say that those facts do not amount to proof, however suggestive they may be. May I point out that the same line of argument might be adopted in the case of at least one other individual? Hardisen admits having shot at Pershore. Two days later Pershore dies at the Motor Show. A method by which he might have been killed has been demonstrated, but we have no knowledge that this method was actually employed. Hardisen says he was at Olympia at the time, but so far there is no proof that this statement is correct. He was on bad terms with Pershore. Does it therefore follow that he is guilty of Pershore’s murder?’

  Hanslet shifted impatiently in his chair. ‘That’s logic, I suppose,’ he replied. ‘But a comparison of motive is enough. What had Hardisen to gain by Pershore’s death? Nothing, beyond the gratification of a ridiculous grudge. Bryant, on the other hand, stood to gain what may turn out to be a very considerable sum.’

  ‘Apparent motive is apt to be misleading,’ Dr Priestley said quietly. ‘I believe that Pershore was murdered, but that the motive which inspired his murder has not yet been approached. Let us put prejudice aside for the moment, and treat the murderer as an unknown person. We will assume that he killed his victim by a blow with the pressure valve. The first question we must ask ourselves is this. Was his action premeditated, or did he, on a sudden impulse, avail himself of an opportunity which presented itself?’

  Hanslet smiled. He was quite ready to humour the professor. ‘The fact that two, if not three previous attempts had been made, rather suggests premeditation, doesn’t it?’ he replied.

  ‘Very well. Let us see what the theory of premeditation involves. First, a knowledge on the part of the murderer that Pershore intended to visit the Motor Show on Monday. Who could have had this knowledge? Pershore was not a person who could have been expected to visit the Show, and he appears to have kept his intention secret.’

  ‘Hardisen couldn’t have known, anyhow. On the other hand, we only have Bryant’s word for it that his uncle didn’t tell him on the previous day.’

  ‘If Bryant had intended to murder his uncle at Olympia on Monday, it is highly improbable that he would have announced publicly in advance that he intended to visit the Motor Show that day. We will pass on to the next point. The murderer must have made his plans in advance. He must have been aware of the conditions existing upon Stand 1001. He must have known that the pressure valve was available, and noted its suitability to his purpose. He must, therefore, have made a previous visit to Olympia.’

  ‘I’ll make it my business to find out if Bryant did so, Professor. Now you mention it, I remember that Hardisen said he had been to the Show on the previous Saturday afternoon.’

  Dr Priestley shook his head. ‘I do not want you to limit the identity of the murderer,’ he said. ‘You do so because both have confessed to what we may call the infliction of bodily harm upon Pershore. The wounding and the poisoning by carbon monoxide are thus accounted for. But is the poisoning by arsenic yet fully explained?’

  ‘We know the source of the poison. But I’ll admit that I’m not satisfied how the olives found their way into the cupboard in Pershore’s study. I’m inclined to think that Bryant knows nothing about it. Anyway, I’m prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt for the moment. But there’s always Mrs Bryant to be considered.’

  ‘When do you think the olives were put in the cupboard?’

  ‘Judging by the amount of arsenic found in the body, I do not see how they can have been put there later than Friday the fifth.’

  ‘When did Bryant receive the cable informing him of Micah Pershore’s death?’

  ‘About five o’clock on that same afternoon.’

  ‘Then Bryant, or Mrs Bryant, had very little time in which to act. They had to procure both the arsenic and the olives. The insertion of the poison in each individual olive must have occupied a considerable time. An opportunity had then to be found to convey the prepared olives to Firlands, and to insert them in the cupboard. This being so, I think it extremely unlikely that the Bryants had any part in this particular attempt. They had no motive for the murder of Pershore before their reception of the cable from the Argentine. I am convinced that another motive already existed. That, in fact, the murderer of Pershore had determined upon the crime long before Friday the fifth.’

  ‘Well, then, we come back to Miss Rissington, with Hardisen as her accomplice. She had the motive. And now there’s that queer business about the car which Pershore bought for her, and of which she had said nothing.’

  ‘That car will, I think, prove to be a clue of the first importance,’ said Dr Priestley. ‘But we will discuss that later. For the moment, let me put this suggestion before you. In all, there were three attempts to inflict bodily harm on Pershore. Two of them have now been explained. The perpetrator of the third is as yet unknown. I believe that this case is remarkable, in that three separate agencies, each inspired by a different motive, were simultaneously antagonistic to Pershore. We do not yet know the identity of the third agent, nor the motive which inspired
him. But it is not impossible that the agent who attempted to murder Pershore by means of the olives was responsible for his death at Olympia.’

  ‘But that’s just what I have been arguing all along, Professor!’ Hanslet exclaimed.

  ‘Yes. But your search for the third agent is limited by the motives already apparent. The Bryants and Miss Rissington have pecuniary motives. Hardisen was suffering under a sense of injury. But what if some far more powerful motive existed, the nature of which has not yet been realised?’

  ‘Well, if it did exist, all I can say is that it has been most carefully concealed.’

  ‘No doubt. When a man has grounds for jealousy, he does not usually advertise the fact.’

  ‘Jealousy!’ Hanslet exclaimed. ‘Who on earth can have been jealous of Pershore, and why?’

  ‘I dare say that Mrs Markle could tell us that,’ Dr Priestley replied. ‘But perhaps we can deduce the grounds of jealousy for ourselves. Let us endeavour to piece together the various scraps of information in our possession.

  ‘You will remember, no doubt, the rather vague hints thrown out by Miss Rissington’s aunt, Mrs Capel. In themselves, they were of no significance. She merely suggested to you that Pershore’s morals were not beyond reproach. You did not press her for details, considering the matter of no importance to your inquiry. It is very doubtful whether she could have given you any further information. She was probably relying upon her feminine intuition. But, all the same, her remarks were suggestive.

  ‘Then we come to the internal arrangements at Firlands, which you have described to me. Pershore had so arranged matters that he could receive visitors in his study without the knowledge of his household. The access to the garden from the lane, and the side door close to the study were convenient. He improved matters by fitting the baize door at the end of the passage, and forbidding anybody to pass that door except upon his express invitation.

  ‘Next, the discovery by the parlourmaid of the lace-edged handkerchief in the study. Appearances already suggested that he received visitors there secretly. The handkerchief provided the further suggestion that these visitors were, at least occasionally, of the female sex.