“He had about a dozen men out looking for Eaton; one at Eaton’s flat, one at his office, one at Errol House, and so on—anywhere that Eaton might be likely to go for advice or assistance if he was still in London. He sent them out directly he left us this morning, having made up his mind pretty definitely that Eaton must have done it. Of course, he’s got on to Eaton’s financial difficulties already; even I was surprised how much he’d found out. He had particulars of all the writs on his desk there. Well, he didn’t forget that Aron was one of Eaton’s best friends, so there was a man watching the National by the time we arrived there, and the moment Eaton came out with us he was recognised from his description. Naturally the detective followed us here, and reported immediately; so Marrofat came straight down. He must have been already on his way when I rang up.”
“Neat bit of work,” Rex commented. “I’ll say I wouldn’t care to get up against your police, they know their game all right.”
“Um,” Simon agreed. “They’re not exactly mental gymnasts, but their system’s thorough; but I’ll tell you, the one thing I don’t like about them is that if they think they’ve got the man who did the job, and it’s a pretty good case, they just won’t look at any other line of inquiry.”
“That’s the danger here,” said Mr. Schatz. “They’ve definitely got a case against this boy. Marrofat admitted that he’d pretty well settled it in his own mind after his talk with Aron this morning, and when they learnt about the pearls—that finished it—they hadn’t a doubt he did it. But now we come to it, what other line of inquiry is there?”
“I—er—take it we’re agreed that it wasn’t Richard?” Simon looked round the table.
“No more than it was myself,” the Duke replied immediately. “His whole story has the ring of truth. His position, as a young man faced with bankruptcy, must have been made doubly distressing by the knowledge that his mother had ample means, as well as the wish to save him—and would have done so but for the adverse influence of his stepfather. One can well understand and sympathise with his sudden decision to attempt to avert catastrophe by taking the law into his own hands. Besides, anyone with the slightest knowledge of psychology can see that he is neither the weak-brained abnormal who might commit such a crime upon a sudden impulse, nor the utterly callous criminal capable of killing his own mother for gain. I have not a shadow of doubt regarding Richard Eaton’s innocence.’’
“Nor I,” Rex agreed. “Having seen the way he acted when he first sat in to talk it over, and having had him come across with his story, I don’t believe he did it for one second. But I’ll say he’s in a jam all right.”
“In that case let’s analyse the position,” Mr. Schatz suggested. “As far as I’m concerned I wouldn’t have touched the case, if I’d thought he’d done it—I’ve got all the work I want, but I’m sorry for that young man.”
“Well, now,” Simon jerked his head sharply, “I’m going to suggest that we go right over the affair from the beginning—see if there’s any point we’ve overlooked.”
Mr. Schatz pushed his plate from in front of him and produced his notes. “Now this is the position as I see it.” He looked round, “Any of you stop me if I go wrong.”
“At eight-thirty, on the evening of Saturday the 22nd, Eaton called upon his mother at Errol House. I don’t think we need go further back than that, at any rate for the moment. He was seen to enter by the porter, let in by the maid, Brent, and admits this himself. He found his mother and aunt just finishing a light dinner, he took coffee and a liqueur in their company and sat talking trivialities for some time. At nine-fifteen, or thereabouts, Miss Eaton went in to the sewing-room at the kitchen end of the flat, while Eaton accompanied his mother to her bedroom. He then approached the business that he had come upon, and after a protracted discussion in which his mother refused to agree with his suggestions, she, at about ten minutes to ten, terminated the interview and went into her bathroom. Eaton, succumbing to a sudden and unpremeditated thought, took the pearls from the dressing-table and left the flat. The hall porter saw him go, and gives the time with definite conviction as some minutes before ten o’clock; at about the same time as Eaton left Errol House, Aron rang up from his club.”
“Ner—wait a moment,” Simon interrupted. “It must have been after ten when I rang up. I remember noticing the clock in the hall as I left the Club; it was well past ten.”
“Sure about that?” Mr. Schatz asked quickly. “It may make a lot of difference to us.”
“Quite sure,” Aron nodded.
“How long interval would there be between the time you ‘phoned and the time you left the club?”
“None, I took my hat and coat and walked round to Errol House—mind you, I don’t say the clock at the club wasn’t fast, but that’s unlikely.”
Mr. Schatz looked round. “You see my point?”
“Sure,” Rex grinned. “If Eaton left before ten it couldn’t have been he who answered Aron’s call.”
“Exactly. Mind you, we mustn’t count on this until we’ve checked the time that call was made. We should be able to do that, and if we can, our case is that a man unknown was in the flat after Richard Eaton left. If we can bring evidence to show that Aron didn’t leave his club until after ten, and was seen going out, having come straight from the telephone boxes, it would strengthen our case enormously.”
“There should, I imagine, be no difficulty in tracing the original call,” remarked De Richleau.
“Club operators keep a record of calls,” Simon nodded. “I’m certain of that.”
“You think we’re pretty safe there?” said Mr. Schatz. “Good, then we’ll go on. Aron’s call was answered by a man who, from his manner, Aron assumed to be a servant. After inquiring if Sir Gideon was in, and could he see him, there was an interval—he was then told that if he came round at once Sir Gideon would see him. Aron therefore left his Club and walked round to Errol House, arriving a little after ten—about eight to ten past, eh?”
“That’s right,” Simon agreed.
“Right. Upon being told by the porter that the flat was on the first floor, Aron walked up—found the front door open, and stepped inside. Before he had time to go out again and ring, Miss Eaton appeared and turned him out. On the landing, as he went downstairs, he met the Duke and Mr. Van Ryn. We have their evidence, and the hall porter’s, to show that Aron must have left the building at ten minutes past ten, or very shortly after … Now at what stage did you come into the proceedings?” The lawyer looked at De Richleau.
“Van Ryn could not have stayed in my flat for longer than five minutes, he only came up in order that I might give him one or two addresses; he admired some of the trifles, but I should say about five minutes at the outside.”
“That gets us to a quarter past ten, then. As he was leaving you both saw the maid, Brent, come out from the Shoesmith’s flat in a semi-hysterical condition and a moment later discovered Miss Eaton sitting beside the dead woman in the bathroom. That is so, isn’t it?”
“That’s all O.K.,” Van Ryn assented.
“Well, I’m afraid we haven’t established much that’s new. We know that Lady Shoesmith met her death between nine-fifteen, when Eaton accompanied her to the bedroom, and ten-fifteen when you people met the parlourmaid. If we allow that Eaton was innocent, then it must have been between nine-fifty when he had left the flat, and ten-fifteen. We hoped to confirm the time of Aron’s ‘phone call as a minute or two after ten, and if we can do that we can definitely establish that whoever answered that call, it was not Richard Eaton. Therefore, there was some person unknown on the premises at the time, and, during the twenty-five minutes in which the murder must have taken place.”
“If only Richard hadn’t taken those pearls.” Simon shook his head. “That’s what’ll make the police so certain he did it.”
“The pearls! Good gracious me!” exclaimed Mr. Schatz, clasping his hand to his breast-pocket with a sudden look of consternation. “I completely forgot to
hand them over to the Superintendent.” As he spoke, he drew forth the three long strings and laid them upon the mahogany table. “I’ll take them to the Yard later on. I don’t want to be left with valuable things like this longer than necessary.”
The Duke picked up the pearls. “I can quite understand that,” he smiled. “How did it occur that you forgot to hand over—what, I suppose, will be termed ‘exhibit number one’?”
“I can’t think, most unusual for me to forget anything so important. I was, of course, intent at the time in preventing Eaton from saying too much. It’s quite extraordinary how chance remarks, which seem quite innocent at the time, may be construed against one later on. I was trying to keep him to the bare facts without antagonising the Superintendent.”
“Well, I guess the pearls belong to Eaton anyhow, now his mother’s dead.” Rex submitted.
“I don’t know, I’m sure,” said Mr. Schatz. “In any case they will have to be handed over to the police for the time being.”
“It may interest you to know,” remarked the Duke, who had been letting the necklaces slide through his fingers, “that these pearls are false!”
17
Three Inquisitive People Plan Their Campaign
“May I look?” Simon leant forward eagerly.
“By all means.” De Richleau pushed the pearls across the table. “However, I’m quite certain of what I say, my fingers cannot be deceived in such a matter.”
Simon took the necklace quickly and drew one of the strings across his wide mouth. For a moment he held one of the largest of the pearls between his teeth, and touched it gently with the tip of his tongue, then he nodded vigorously.
“You’re right; but they’re a wonderful fake, aren’t they? Just sufficiently uneven to make them appear a well-matched string, the real thing.”
“Eaton could not have been aware of this,” said Mr. Schatz.
Rex laughed. “Poor feller, wouldn’t he have been real mad if he’d got to Paris and found he’d had all his trouble for just nothing at all?”
“Now. How will this affect Richard’s case?” said Simon slowly.
“Not at all,” the lawyer replied promptly. “How can it? We’ve admitted that he took this necklace; that is the vital point. He may have believed the pearls to have been real at the time—but he took them, and many a man’s gone to prison before now for stealing what turned out to be a handful of paste. It doesn’t affect his case in the slightest degree.”
“Um.” Simon pulled slowly at his fat Al Rashid. “Wonder where the real necklace is? This must be a copy.”
“All her other jewels were intact,” remarked De Richleau.. “I ascertained that from our friend the Superintendent this morning before we saw Eaton, and he would have mentioned it, I feel sure, if a duplicate necklace had been discovered—at least—if a necklace of this description had been found at all, there would never have been any suggestion that anything was ever missing.”
“Maybe the original has been sold,” suggested Rex.
“That’s possible, but why?” Simon looked round the table with half-closed eyes. “Lady Shoesmith was a rich woman, Sir Gideon was a rich man. Most women think a lot of times before they sell their pearls, that’s the last thing as a rule. If you remember, Richard said this morning that his mother would be certain to sell the Slough property to get them back.”
“It is conceivable,” submitted the Duke, “that the real pearls may have been stolen years ago and these excellent copies substituted; such profitable exchanges are known to have been made by clever thieves on many occasions without arousing the least suspicion in the owner.”
“Ner!” Simon shook his head. “Don’t agree. I agree with you about diamonds, emeralds, pictures, old furniture, works of art, if you like, but not pearls. Pearls have to be restrung at least twice a year if they’re worn every day as these were. Lady Shoesmith’s jewellers would have spoken to her about it for their own protection.”
De Richleau smiled. “You are correct, Mr. Aron. I hadn’t thought of that. Then it’s clear that if any theft or substitution has taken place unknown to Lady Shoesmith, it has occurred within the last few months.”
“Her jeweller ought to be able to give us a line,” said Rex. “Either he strung the real goods last time or he can tell us if it was the duds, and in the last case he’ll be able to put us wise as to when the duds came to town.”
“Van Ryn is right,” said the Duke. “Did you by any chance, Aron, happen to hear Eaton mention who his mother’s jeweller was?”
“Ner. Sorry, I don’t know.”
“Perhaps Mr. Schatz could procure that information for us; if he could, and further give me a line of authorisation stating that I am acting on behalf of Eaton’s solicitor, I will undertake the inquiry. It was doubtless one of the big people in the West End, and I am tolerably well acquainted with them all. I feel they may answer even an authorised inquiry more freely if it is made by someone with whom they have had dealings before.”
“I can get the name from Eaton,” Mr. Schatz agreed, “when I see him in the morning before the inquest, but I don’t see this leads us anywhere. The knowledge that Lady Shoesmith sold her pearls five years ago, or that they were stolen from her last week, doesn’t strengthen our position in any way.”
De Richleau shrugged his elegant shoulders. “Possibly you’re right; but in this case we have so little to go upon, that even the points which have no direct bearing should, I feel, be followed up, in the hope that further information may come to light.”
“In that case,” Simon picked up the necklace again, “don’t you think it would be worth while to try and find out who made this?”
“The fake—sure,” Rex nodded. “That’s the other half of the same question.”
“If Lady Shoesmith pawned, or sold her pearls, or even has the originals put away somewhere for safe keeping, the copy will, I expect, have been made to the order of her jeweller,” the Duke pointed out.
“But if we find the maker,” suggested Simon, “and he was not instructed by the jeweller, or Lady Shoesmith herself, then he was probably instructed by the thief. D’you mind if I take them.” As he spoke he slipped the necklace into his pocket.
Mr. Schatz looked highly disapproving. “I don’t quite think …” he began. “You know I ought to take them along to the Yard right away.”
“Oh—I see.” Simon narrowed his eyes and smiled. “D’you think so? I’ll give you a receipt for them if you like. As a matter of fact Richard gave them to me—I think you saw him do so at the Club—I passed them on to you for safe keeping, now I’m relieving you of them again.”
“We ought to hand it in, Aron, but if you’ve any special purpose in retaining possession of it”—Mr. Schatz spread out his plump hands—”well, I’ve got my client to think of.”
“In a way I have. You see, I know a lot of funny people.” Simon stooped his head and laughed nervously into the palm of his hand. “I’d like to show this to one or two of them, just on the off chance, you know.”
“All right, in that case I think we’d better forget you ever gave it to me at all.” Mr. Schatz looked round the table. “But I don’t see the point in all this, I think you’re both wasting time.”
“If the real necklace was stolen we might have a bit of luck and trace the thief,” Simon replied. “But I feel with the Duke that we shouldn’t neglect any line of inquiry.”
“I cannot possibly see how anything which you may find out can have anything to do with the murder,” said Mr. Schatz almost crossly, “but it’s your time not mine.”
“Exactly,” agreed Simon calmly. “Is there anything else you think we might do?”
“No, I’m afraid there’s very little to do. The only thing we really have in our favour is that Richard Eaton could not possibly have been at Errol House at the time you say you rang up, and it is important to check that call.”
“What about the house-girl and the cook?” suggested Rex. “Couldn’t one of t
hem have let in a boyfriend? Say that had happened, and he gave Lady Shoesmith the works, he might just have got through with it and been going to have a crack at the safe when he heard Aron come in, got scared, hidden for a bit, and then done a fade out directly the coast was clear.”
“The maids were together all the time,” Schatz objected. “And even if they were both in it neither could have passed Miss Eaton’s room to let a man in without her seeing them.”
“Well, what about one of them slipping the boyfriend a door key; they wouldn’t have to worry about letting him in then?”
“And if they did, what about the hall porter? He’s prepared to declare on oath that nobody went in or out except Eaton and Aron between a quarter to ten and ten past ten.”
“Maybe the porter’s in the same racket,” Rex persisted.
“Let us consider Van Ryn’s theory,” the Duke intervened. “Even without the maids, let’s assume that the porter was a member of the gang. He could probably have supplied a duplicate key to the flat. He would not have allowed his accomplice to enter until Eaton had left, then probably he would have some prearranged signal whereby to warn his confederate in the event of Sir Gideon arriving home unexpectedly, or any other unseen emergency. Upon Aron’s arrival he would use that signal. The confederate, then having committed the murder but not having had time to secure the jewels, would abandon the attempt immediately leaving the front door open behind him. Instead of going downstairs and meeting the unexpected arrival face to face, he would run up to the next landing above, wait for a moment until he saw Aron enter the flat, and make his dash downstairs while Aron was talking to Miss Eaton. This does seem to me to be a quite possible solution, although I should regret to lose Frederick, a polite, pleasant man.”
“Don’t agree,” Simon differed. “I look at it this way, if the porter were in it he would have lied about the time Eaton left, or the time that I arrived, in order to protect his accomplice.”
“That’s sound,” said Mr. Schatz quickly. “All the same we’ll get the private inquiry people to look into things tonight; there may be something in Mr. Van Ryn’s idea. We’ll have the porter, the housemaid and the cook watched all next week, and I think you’ll be surprised at the details of their family history that I shall be able to lay on the table in a few days’ time. We’ll soon know if there’s anything fishy about any of them.”
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