Choice of Evils

by E. X. Ferrars

  ‘I believe you're acquainted with a colleague of mine. Detective Inspector Roland,’ he said. ‘You were able to give him considerable help over the murder of Sir Lucas Dearden. I remember him speaking of you.’

  'Sir Lucas Dearden - oh, a most unpleasant business,’ Andrew said. ‘And for me personally a tragedy. It lost me the friendship of two of my oldest and best friends.’

  ‘I believe it was because you knew something of their background that you were able to help,’ the inspector said. ‘I'd like to know if there's anything you know of the background to this crime that could save us wasting a lot of time.’

  ‘I'm sorry,’ Andrew said. ‘I'm a complete stranger here. I met Miss Rayne for the first time yesterday evening at a small dinner party given by Mr Amory. And I met Mr Amory for the first time then. I came down here simply to have a peaceful holiday. I've come here quite often over the years, and I always stay at the Dolphin, but I've no acquaintances in the town and I know nothing about the background of any of the people whom I met last night. I can tell you one thing, however, if you don't already know it. At this moment I believe Mr Amory is playing chess with Miss Mina Todhunter at her home. I've been given to understand that he does this every Saturday afternoon.’

  The inspector gave a quick glance at the sergeant, who got up and went out of the room, presumably to telephone Miss Todhunter, or possibly to send a car pick up Simon Amory.

  Thank you, Professor,’ the inspector said, 'that may save us some trouble. But how did you come to know it?’

  ‘I'd had a rather alarmist telephone call from my nephew,’ Andrew said, ‘asking me to come up here immediately, but he omitted to give me the address of the house. And when I looked for it in the directory, it turned out not to be there. Apparently Mr Amory keeps his number ex-directory. So I thought of telephoning Miss Todhunter, whom I'd met at that dinner party last night, and asking her to give me the address, which she did, and at the same time she mentioned that Mr Amory was there with her and asked me if I wanted to speak to him.’

  ‘And did you speak to him?’ Inspector Mayhew asked.

  ‘No, I felt I wanted to speak to my nephew before I spoke to Mr Amory. My nephew had given me no hint of why he wanted me so urgently and for all I knew it might be for some reason that had nothing to do with Mr Amory. I may say, incidentally, that my nephew isn't normally an excitable character. He takes most things rather lightly, so I was sure from his tone that something was seriously wrong, though I wasn't prepared for any-thing as seriously wrong as it turned out to be. But I was anxious to speak to him before bringing anyone else into the trouble, whatever it was.’

  The inspector took his lower lip in his fingers and gave it a little tug. The gesture had the effect of making him look exceedingly dubious.

  ‘Can you tell me how you happened to be at that dinner party yesterday if you'd never met Mr Amory before?’ he asked.

  ‘As I suppose you know by now,’ Andrew answered, 'my nephew's spending the weekend here. I didn't know it, and he didn't know I was coming, but we met by chance in the town in the afternoon. He told Mr Amory about it, and he invited me to the dinner, and to the show they were putting on in the Pegasus Theatre.’

  ‘Ah, so you went to that.’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Anything special strike you about it?’

  Andrew was about to say no, nothing, when he remembered that of course two things had happened, of which one, at least, might be of importance now. He spoke of the first, however.

  ‘Well, there was one odd incident just before the show began,’ he said. ‘We were in a greenroom under the stage, Mr Amory, Miss Todhunter, Mr Clarke, Miss Rayne, my nephew and I, when a man and a woman walked in and the woman threw her arms round Amory and kissed him, which appeared not to please him at all, but to infuriate him. And it was my impression that that was why she did it. He introduced her very reluctantly as Magda Braile, the actress who's performing this evening in The Duchess of Malfi in the Pegasus. I don't see what connection this inci-dent can have with Miss Rayne's death, but you asked me if anything special struck me about the evening. Well, that was special in its way, I suppose. The intimacy and the antagonism between Amory and the woman - it isn't the sort of thing you often see.’

  ‘Love affair gone wrong,’ Mayhew observed. ‘Was that how it struck you?’

  ‘Pretty much.’

  The sergeant returned to the room just then, gave the inspector a brief nod and sat down again at the table.

  ‘Anything else strike you?’ Mayhew asked.

  ‘Yes, something that may be more important,’ Andrew replied. ‘When it was time to go home Amory was going to take Miss Rayne, my nephew and me in his car first to my hotel to drop me off, then on up here. But Miss Rayne had disappeared. We waited around for her for a little, then decided she'd probably decided to walk home on her own, and we set off. And what's interesting is simply something my nephew told me. When he and Amory got back, Amory dropped my nephew off at the door and drove the car on to the garage. And while my nephew was waiting for him to return he suddenly saw Miss Rayne come running out of that summerhouse where you found her today and make a dash for the door at the back of the house, evidently very anxious not to be seen by Amory. But you'd better get the story direct from my nephew.’

  ‘The summerhouse,’ the inspector said thoughtfully, tugging at his lower lip. ‘Yes, the summerhouse.’

  ‘And the gun,’ Andrew said. ‘What about the gun?’

  ‘Missing,’ the inspector answered.

  Peter was questioned after Andrew, but he could not yet have told Inspector Mayhew much when Simon Amory walked in. His thin, sharp-featured face was grim. He made it plain that he thought that it was he and not Peter who should be talking to the police, no doubt questioning them rather than being questioned, and the inspector seemed to accept this as reasonable. Peter was allowed to leave the dining-room and Amory went into it. The door was shut upon him, and Peter and Andrew went into the drawing-room, which happened at the time to be empty. From the window they could see the summerhouse and the people grouped around it and their busy coming and going. They could also hear people tramping about in a room overhead, probably Rachel's room, Andrew thought.

  ‘I wonder how long they're going to keep me here,’ he said. ‘I'd like to get back to the hotel. If they let us go, will you come along and have dinner with me, Peter?’

  ‘If Amory isn't expecting me to have dinner with him,’ Peter said. ‘I suppose I'll have to put that first. But the chances are he won't specially want my company.’

  ‘It's occurred to me there's something I didn't tell the inspector,’ Andrew said. ‘I said nothing about Rachel's curious reaction when you told her her sister had died intestate.’

  ‘What do you make of that now yourself?’ Peter asked.

  ‘Nothing, really. I did have that idea that perhaps Lizbeth and Amory hadn't been really married, which would have made Rachel her heir, and that could have given Amory some sort of a motive for wanting to get rid of Rachel. But he's got enough money of his own not to need to grudge it her.’

  ‘But what about blackmail?’ Peter said.

  ‘Blackmail?’

  ‘Well, if Rachel knew they weren't married and threatened to make that public.’

  ‘Nowadays?’

  ‘You don't think that it would matter nowadays?’

  ‘Well, would it?’

  ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘Not unless there are complications we don't know any-thing about, which I suppose isn't unlikely. But the poor woman's been dead for several years. I can't imagine how it could possibly matter to anyone if she and Amory weren't really married.’

  'Suppose she'd left something behind that Amory couldn't afford to have made public, and Rachel knew about it, and was searching for it in the summerhouse.’

  ‘Ah, now that's a much better idea.’

  ‘There must be some reason why she went into the summerhouse yesterday evenin
g, and then again this afternoon, once Amory was out of the way, playing chess. He was an accountant before he took to writing, wasn't he? Suppose he was involved in some important fraud.’

  ‘I suppose it's possible.’

  ‘Or it might be simply that he knows about the fraud and has been holding it over the head of whoever committed it. In fact, it's he who's a blackmailer. And Rachel believed he had some evidence which he kept in the summerhouse, and she was trying to find it to destroy it.’

  ‘Why would she do that?’

  ‘Well if the person who's being blackmailed is a friend of hers, say. Or she was thinking of taking over the blackmail herself.’

  ‘Oh dear, this is going too fast for me,’ Andrew said.

  ‘You don't think there's anything in what I'm suggesting,’ Peter said, looking disappointed.

  ‘Oh, there may be, there may be.’

  ‘But you don't find it convincing.’

  ‘I didn't say so.’

  ‘But you don't, do you?’

  Andrew had sat down in one of the easy chairs. He stretched his legs out and folded his hands behind his head.

  ‘I think it's too early to start any theorizing,’ he said. ‘But if I were you, I'd offer all these ideas to the inspector. He's in a position to check them, which you and I are not. Now I do hope I can get back to the hotel fairly soon. I'm very tired.’

  But Peter was still pursuing his own line of thought.

  ‘Of course, it wouldn't explain why she got so excited about that intestacy.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Oh, Andrew-!’ Peter exclaimed explosively. ‘You've got some idea about all this, I know you have, but you won't talk about it.’

  ‘I haven't, I really haven't,’ Andrew said. ‘I believe in leaving things to the professionals.’

  ‘That isn't what you've always done.’

  ‘Only because I wasn't left any choice. But this time it's what I mean to do.’

  At that moment a loud voice in the hall shouted, 'Simon! Simon!’

  It was a voice that could have belonged to no one but Mina Todhunter.

  Apparently receiving no reply, she opened the door of the drawing-room and looked in. Seeing Andrew and Peter there, she came in.

  ‘Is Simon here?’ she asked. She looked both anxious and indignant, as if it worried her that she had so far been left out of what was going on.

  ‘He's with Inspector Mayhew at the moment,’ Andrew answered, hauling himself to his feet. 'They're in the dining-room.’

  ‘But there is something I must tell this man Mayhew,’ she said. ‘He ought to know it. In the dining-room, you say. I think I'll go in.’

  ‘Unless it's something very, very urgent, I'd be inclined to wait till he is done with Amory,’ Andrew said.

  ‘Well, it's urgent, of course it's urgent, or I wouldn't have come,’ she said, but she stood still in the middle of the room, running her fingers through her cropped grey hair with an air of perplexity. ‘When they came for him, Simon didn't want me to come. He doesn't realize I'm much tougher than he is and besides that, I can help him. They'd get round to me sometime anyway, and it seems to me the sooner the better.’

  ‘Well, don't let me stop you, if you think you ought to break in on them,’ Andrew said.

  She gave a sigh and sat down abruptly in one of the easy chairs.

  ‘Oh, I suppose you're right, what I've got to say can wait,’ she said. ‘It's only that Simon's been with me nearly all the afternoon. If they're suspicious of him, and I suppose they have to be suspicious of all of us, I can give him a perfect alibi. But do you think they'll believe me?’

  ‘Is there any reason why they shouldn't?’ Andrew asked.

  ‘Only that we're such very old friends that they might think I'd be ready to lie for him. As, of course, I would be. But I don't really know what's happened here. They came to the shop and said Simon was to come back here with them, because Rachel Rayne had been found murdered in his summerhouse. And that was really all they said. Looking back on it, it seems a bit odd, don't you think? I mean, that that was about all they said. But Simon went with them at once, and when I suggested going with him, he said there was no reason why I should get involved. That's just like him, you know, wanting to save me being troubled. But as soon as they'd gone, I realized I ought to have insisted on coming, because if they're going to suspect him, and they are, aren't they? - aren't they. Professor?’

  ‘It's something they'll be thinking about,’ Andrew admitted.

  ‘Well, there you are. I can clear him with a few words. But I wish knew more about what's happened. Can you tell me anything?’

  ‘Peter can tell you more than I can,’ Andrew said, sitting down again. ‘Peter, tell Miss Todhunter how you came to discover Miss Rayne's body in the summerhouse.’

  Peter looked very unwilling to talk about it, but once more he told the story of how it was that he had been alone in the house, and going looking for Simon Amory in the summerhouse, had found there the body of Rachel Rayne. Mina Todhunter sat very upright in her chair, with her hands clasped together on the handbag which was on her lap. Occasionally her lips moved, as if she were repeating to herself what Peter was saying. Her eyes looked very big and bright as she fixed them on him.

  ‘Really, really, it's too terrible,’ she said as he stopped. ‘And to think that she came to see me only yesterday morning. And I wasn't as patient with her as I might have been. If only one could look ahead, how differently one would act. But it's no good regretting things now. I was impatient with her, and so she went off and for all I know, she went to meet her murderer.’

  ‘Actually, she joined Peter and me and we went to have coffee at a little cafe round the corner/ Andrew said. ‘But I've much the same feeling as you. Miss Todhunter. She asked me for advice, and I was very unwilling to give her any. It's a thing I don't like doing. But if I'd listened to what was troubling her, perhaps it might have saved her. Not very likely, but perhaps it might have made some difference. Would you consider telling me what she asked you about?’

  ‘Oh, it was about the market for children's books - ’ But that was as far as Miss Todhunter got, for at that moment the door of the dining-room was violently opened and Simon Amory strode across the passage into the drawing-room.

  He went to the fireplace where the remains of a fire smouldered in the ancient grate. He stirred the ashes with a poker, then tossed two or three logs on to them. He did not look at anyone, but when a few sparks had risen round the logs he stood upright, gazing down at them, still holding the poker in his hand as if it were a weapon. His trim body looked taut with anger.

  ‘Well, Simon, what's happened?’ Mina Todhunter asked after a moment, her rough voice unusually gentle.

  He dropped the poker with a clang on the hearth.

  ‘How do I know what's happened?’ he demanded, turning round to face the room. 'They've made up their minds I did it, that's all I can tell you.’

  ‘But I can prove you didn't,’ she said. ‘You were with me nearly all the afternoon.’

  ‘And you think they're going to believe that?’ He directed his anger at her, as if she were to blame if the detectives did not believe her.

  ‘I'll see that they do,’ she answered calmly. ‘But tell me, do they know what Rachel was doing in the summer-house? Was she looking for something? And is anything missing? Did the murderer take anything? Have you been able to clear that up for them?’

  ‘No, because they haven't allowed me to go in there yet. That's to say, I could tell them that one thing's missing, because they told me that the bottom drawer of my desk is empty, and there was only one thing I kept in that drawer.’

  ‘Your manuscripts!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘My manuscripts!’ he agreed.

  ‘But, Simon, that's terrible!’ She looked deeply concerned. 'They're valuable.’

  He gave a small laugh of derision. ‘Not as valuable as all that. Losing them doesn't break my heart. I only kept them out of a sort
of sentimentality. But it's such non-sense. To kill a poor woman just to get your hands on two or three manuscripts that won't fetch anything once this craze for my stuff is over - because it's not going to last. I don't delude myself about that.’

  ‘You say two or three manuscripts,’ Andrew said. ‘Had they all been published?’

  ‘Yes, and that just proves what I was saying,’ Amory said. T had my big bit of luck with Death Come Quickly, then I had two more books published, and they've attracted no interest at all, though in my opinion they're both of them better than that first one. It won't take long for me to be forgotten. So why steal those manuscripts?’

  ‘Perhaps it was a lunatic who collects original manu-scripts,’ Peter suggested.

  ‘You're damn right it was a lunatic-’ Amory broke off as the door of the dining-room opened and Detective Inspector Mayhew and the sergeant came into the drawing-room.

  ‘If you'd come down with me now, Mr Amory,’ Mayhew said, ‘and take a look round the summerhouse, I'd be grateful. You'll be able to say if anything's missing besides those manuscripts you mentioned.’

  ‘Very well,’ Amory moved towards the door. 'Though there's never been anything there of the least value.’

  ‘But possibly someone thought there would be,’ Andrew said. ‘Did you never keep money there?’

  ‘Never. I keep my money in the bank, except for what I need for day-to-day expenses, and that stays in my wallet.’ Amory gave a slight slap to his hip pocket.

  ‘Well, we'll go into that in more detail when Mr Amory has had a chance to look around,’ Mayhew said. 'Shall we go, Mr Amory?’

  ‘Inspector, just a moment,’ Andrew said. ‘I'd like to get back to my hotel, if you've no objection. I don't think I can be of any help to you here. You'll be able to find me there if you want me.’

  ‘That's all right. Professor,’ Mayhew said. 'There's no reason for you to stay here.’

  ‘And I'll drive my uncle down to the Dolphin, if that's all right too,’ Peter said. 'Then I'll come back here.’