Night of the Twelfth

by Michael Gilbert

  Manifold said, ‘He’ll be better off in his own bed at school, I guess,’ and McMurtrie nodded his head vigorously. He seemed to be recovering.

  As the second car was turning to go, Manifold stood, for a moment, by himself at the railing, looking down at the sheet of water below. Black as ink, it reflected no stars.

  ‘And men have died,’ he said to himself. ‘And worms have eaten them. But not for love.’

  24

  ‘So Elizabeth is dead,’ said Mr Fairfax.

  ‘God, yes,’ said Manifold, ‘she’s dead. The cars met head on, both going fast. The policemen were bruised and shocked, but they did have their seat belts on. Elizabeth didn’t. She went through the windscreen, face first.’

  It was still only a few minutes after midnight. McMurtrie was asleep in the sickroom. Manifold was drinking a mug of coffee in the Fairfax’s sitting-room and trying to stop yawning.

  ‘Do you think he’ll be all right?’ said Lucy.

  Manifold guessed that she meant McMurtrie. He said, ‘I should think so. He hardly stopped talking all the way home.’

  ‘What about Ware?’ said Mr Fairfax.

  ‘It all depends,’ said Manifold. He didn’t want to talk about Nigel. He needed a night’s rest to blur the memory of that crouched and screaming creature.

  He said, ‘I imagine that someone like Dr Sampson will have to decide. If he isn’t fit to plead, there can’t be any proceedings.’

  ‘I’m sorry if it sounds brutal,’ said Mr Fairfax, ‘but for the sake of the school I can only pray that he never recovers.’

  Lucy said, in her level, husky voice, ‘Poor Nigel. I always knew she’d destroy him. Much better for him if he doesn’t recover. It’s Elizabeth I’m sorry about.’

  ‘Sorry?’ said Mr Fairfax.

  ‘I’m sorry she’s dead. I should have preferred it to be the other way round. Nigel dead and that woman facing fifteen or twenty years in prison. I believe the other prisoners take it out of someone who’s been convicted of hurting children, don’t they? That way she’d have suffered for all the suffering she’s caused.’

  Manifold looked at her curiously. A strange woman, moved by strange tides. He said, ‘I’m going to bed. I’ve told McMurtrie to keep his mouth shut. You’d better warn Sacher and Joscelyne in the morning. The less they say about all this the better.’

  ‘The less anyone says about it the better,’ said Mr Fairfax.

  ‘Of course he isn’t fit to plead,’ said Dr Sampson.

  ‘I suppose what finished him,’ said Manifold, ‘was the girl running out on him in that cold-blooded way, leaving him to face the music.’

  ‘Nothing of the sort. What destroyed him was guilt. A stronger dissolvent than any acid known to science. Think about it. Here was a very ordinary young man, brought up between the normal signposts of right and wrong. Then think about the price he was forced to pay for that woman. First he had to tie up small animals and torment them for her amusement. Then it was boys. All right, they were strange boys, picked up casually. But then fate played him a deadly trick. This time it was a boy he had taught, a boy he knew and liked. That showed him what he was doing. Showed it in plain black and white and finished him off as quickly and as brutally as a boot on the head.’

  Manifold thought about it. He said, ‘It’s pretty clear that he wasn’t going to agree to torture him. If the police hadn’t arrived, do you think he’d have agreed to dump him with the car?’

  ‘Conscience against self-preservation. It might have been a close thing. I’m glad we didn’t have to find out the answer to that one.’

  McMurtrie was sleeping badly. He was dreaming. It was not always the same dream, but it always ended the same way, in a hopeless struggle, and a black and choking horror, out of which he could only jerk himself by a convulsive physical effort.

  The first time he did this he gave a scream which startled Sacher and Joscelyne out of sleep. By the third night they had got used to it, but it still worried them. Oddly, it did not occur to them to say anything to Mr Fairfax; but Jared got permission to telephone his father, and as a result of what he said Ben Sacher cancelled two important engagements and drove down to the school.

  He walked for an hour with McMurtrie, over the soft grass and under the ancient trees, and as they walked, he talked. Afterwards, McMurtrie was not able to remember all that was said between them, but he was conscious of the strength of the small brown-faced man. It was a strength which he seemed able to pass on to his listener. When McMurtrie said, ‘How could he ever have done it?’ Sacher said, ‘You mean, because he was a decent chap. That’s the correct description, isn’t it? I’m not laughing at you. That’s what most people would have called Ware. He was not a strong character. Better men than him have given up more for the woman they wanted. Fortunes, careers, a kingdom, even.’

  When they tired of walking they sat with their backs propped against the nabob’s stone summerhouse. Sacher said, ‘There’s violence everywhere in the world. It’s increasing and it will go on increasing. Nobody who is young today can expect to go through his whole life without meeting violence. By coincidence you have run up against it twice in the last few months. It could be useful, or it could be harmful. That depends on you.’

  McMurtrie stretched out his legs. ‘How do you mean?’

  It was a novel, but an oddly comforting thought, that experience of violence might be useful. Like inoculation or having your tonsils out.

  ‘I mean,’ said Ben Sacher, ‘that it has shown you a useful truth. That a man who is weak is easily corrupted, and being corruptible can be more dangerous than a stronger man. A bespectacled chicken farmer, when chance put power into his hands, murdered three million people and thought no more of it than eating his breakfast. But that’s only one side of the lesson. You mustn’t allow it to influence you too far in the other direction. Because you have looked inside an apparently agreeable man and found him hollow and black and vicious, you mustn’t let this lead you into an automatic distrust of your fellow men. That would make you intolerably sour and cynical. No one is permitted to be cynical before he reaches the age of sixty.’

  McMurtrie grinned, and promised that he would do his best not to be cynical; for the next forty-six years at least.

  After that visit he slept a great deal better.

  Manifold walked down to the open-air stage between Colonel Brabazon and Sir Charles McMurtrie. The Colonel said, ‘Your boy seems to have recovered his spirits. No permanent harm, I should say.’

  ‘They’ve got a natural resilience at that age,’ said Sir Charles.

  ‘I hope to heaven you’re right,’ said Manifold.

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘If there were any permanent ill-effects – I don’t think there will be, but if there were – I don’t think I should ever forgive myself.’

  ‘My dear fellow,’ said Colonel Brabazon, ‘it wasn’t your fault.’

  ‘If I’d seen what was in front of my eyes it would never have happened.’

  ‘It’s easy to be wise after the event,’ said Sir Charles.

  Ahead of them Mr Fairfax was talking to Mrs Warlock. She said, ‘Billy tells me that Mr Ware is in hospital.’

  ‘That’s right. It was very sudden. A breakdown.’

  ‘You are having a lot of bad luck. First Mr Millison, then Mr Ware.’

  ‘Ah, but Millison’s quite recovered. I had a letter from him this morning. He’ll be rejoining us in September.’

  ‘That’s a blessing anyway. I’m told he was very popular with the boys. There’s my husband waving.’

  Robin Warlock was in the front row, talking to the Paxtons. He said, ‘I had to move heaven and earth to get them to swap a matinée and an evening performance so that I could be here. I hope it’s going to be worth it.’

  Mr Paxton said, ‘Fine night. Shakespeare in the open. Acted by intelligent boys. Couldn’t miss,’ and Mrs Paxton said, ‘Of course it’ll be lovely. Terence says they’ve been working te
rribly hard at it. They’ve hardly thought of anything else since half-term.’

  ‘Quiet,’ said Mr Paxton. ‘They’re under starter’s orders.’

  Feste, the clown, is usually thought of as thin, pale and melancholy. It had been a calculated risk to give the part to Monty Gedge, who was none of these things. His father watched him with anxious affection. Monty was all that was left to him of his stout-hearted little wife, who had died six years before. He realized, before the end of the play, that his son was going to be the success of the evening. Being a solemn boy he spoke his lines in an off-hand way which was more effective than any conscious effort to be funny, and he sang his songs in a small, cracked voice, hovering between treble and bass.

  When that I was, and a little tiny boy

  With hey, ho the wind and the rain

  A foolish thing was but a toy

  And the rain it raineth every day’

  Mr Gedge was glad that it was dark, because there were tears in his eyes.

  ‘But when I came to man’s estate

  With hey, ho the wind and the rain

  ’Gainst knaves and thieves men shut the gate–’

  If only you could do it, thought Manifold. Lock the gate. Shut out the disturbing influences, and live for ever in an innocent cloud-cuckoo land among people who never grew up.

  ‘A great while ago this world begun

  With hey, ho the wind and the rain

  But that’s all one, our play is done

  And we’ll strive to please you every day.’

  Michael Gilbert Titles in order of first publication

  All Series titles can be read in order, or randomly as standalone novels

  Inspector Hazlerigg

  1. Close Quarters 1947

  2. They Never Looked Inside alt: He Didn’t Mind Danger 1948

  3. The Doors Open 1949

  4. Smallbone Deceased 1950

  5. Death has Deep Roots 1951

  6. Fear To Tread (in part) 1953

  7. The Young Petrella (included) (short stories) 1988

  8. The Man Who Hated Banks and Other My (included) (short stories) 1997

  Patrick Petrella

  1. Blood and Judgement 1959

  2. Amateur in Violence (included) (short stories) 1973

  3. Petrella at Q (short stories) 1977

  4. The Young Petrella (short stories) 1988

  5. Roller Coaster 1993

  6. The Man Who Hated Banks and Other Mysteries (included) (short stories) 1997

  Luke Pagan

  1. Ring of Terror 1995

  2. Into Battle 1997

  3. Over and Out 1998

  Calder & Behrens

  1. Game Without Rules (short stories) 1967

  2. Mr. Calder and Mr. Behrens (short stories) 1982

  Non-Series

  1. Death in Captivity alt: The Danger Within 1952

  2. Sky High alt: The Country House Burglar 1955

  3. Be Shot for Sixpence 1956

  4. After the Fine Weather 1963

  5. The Crack in the Teacup 1966

  6. The Dust and the Heat alt: Overdrive 1967

  7. The Etruscan Net alt: The Family Tomb 1969

  8. Stay of Execution and Other Stories (short stories) 1971

  9. The Body of a Girl 1972

  10. The Ninety-Second Tiger 1973

  11. Flash Point 1974

  12. The Night of the Twelfth 1976

  13. The Empty House 1979

  14. The Killing of Katie Steelstock alt: Death of a Favourite Girl 1980

  15. The Final Throw alt: End Game 1982

  16. The Black Seraphim 1984

  17. The Long Journey Home 1985

  18. Trouble 1987

  19. Paint, Gold, and Blood 1989

  20. Anything for a Quiet Life (short stories) 1990

  21. The Queen against Karl Mullen 1992

  Synopses (Both Series & ‘Stand-alone’ Titles)

  Published by House of Stratus

  After The Fine Weather

  When Laura Hart travels to Austria to visit her brother, vice-consul of Lienz in the Tyrol, she briefly meets an American who warns her of the mounting political tension. Neo-Nazis are stirring trouble in the province, and xenophobia is rife between the Austrians who control the area and the Italian locals. Then Laura experiences the troubles first-hand, a shocking incident that suggests Hofrat Humbold, leader of the Lienz government is using some heavy-handed tactics. Somewhat unsurprisingly, he is unwilling to let one little English girl destroy his plans for the largest Nazi move since the war, and Laura makes a dangerous enemy.

  Anything For A Quiet Life

  Jonas Pickett, lawyer and commissioner of oaths is nearing retirement, but still has lots of energy. However, he leaves the pressure of a London practice behind to set up a new modest office in a quiet seaside resort. He soon finds that he is overwhelmed with clients and some of them involve him in very odd and sometimes dangerous cases. This collection of inter-linked stories tells how these are brought to a conclusion; ranging from an incredible courtroom drama involving a gipsy queen to terrorist thugs who make their demands at gunpoint.

  Be Shot For Sixpence

  A gripping spy thriller with a deserved reputation. Philip sees an announcement in The Times from an old school friend who has instructed the newspaper to publish only if they don’t hear from him. This sets a trail running through Europe, with much of the action taking place on the Austro-Hungarian border. The Kremlin, defectors, agitators and the People’s Court set the background to a very realistic story that could well have happened …

  The Black Seraphim

  James Scotland, a young pathologist, decides on a quiet holiday in Melchester, but amid the cathedral town’s quiet medieval atmosphere, he finds a hornet’s nest of church politics, town and country rivalries, and murder. He is called upon to investigate and finds that some very curious alliances between the church, state and business exist. With modern forensic pathology he unravels the unvarnished truth about Melchester, but not before a spot of unexpected romance intervenes.

  Blood & Judgement

  When the wife of a recently escaped prisoner is found murdered and partially buried near a reservoir, Patrick Petrella, a Metropolitan Police Inspector, is called in. Suspicion falls on the escaped convict, but what could have been his motive? Petrella meets resistance from top detectives at the Yard who would prefer to keep the inspector out of the limelight, but he is determined to solve the mystery with or without their approval.

  The Body Of A Girl

  Detective Chief Inspector Mercer is called to the scene when a skeleton of a girl is found on Westlaugh Island in the upper reaches of the River Thames. What appears to be a straightforward and routine investigation, however, leads to unexpected events and a string of unlikely characters, including a lawyer and a one armed garage proprietor. Nothing seems to fit together and it seems the sleepy town holds many secrets. The finale involves two nights of dramatic violence and it isn’t until this stage is reached that the twisted truth finally emerges.

  Close Quarters

  It has been more than a year since Cannon Whyte fell 103 feet from the cathedral gallery, yet unease still casts a shadow over the peaceful lives of the Close’s inhabitants. In an apparently separate incident, head verger Appledown is being persecuted: a spate of anonymous letters and random acts of vandalism imply that he is inefficient and immoral. But then the notes turn threatening, and when Appledown is found dead, Inspector Hazlerigg is called in. Investigations suggest that someone directly connected to the cathedral is responsible, and it is up to Hazlerigg to get to the heart of the corruption.

  The Crack In The Teacup

  Barhaven is on the south coast within commuting distance from London. It is, however, a fairly sleepy place and it seems incredulous that it could be the kind of town where the local councillors could manage to line their own pockets. However, there is something odd about the borough engineers behaviour, and it seems strange t
hat the owner of the local amusement park is unknown, and the Town Clerk himself is acting peculiarly. Enter a young lawyer, who finds himself at the centre of a major campaign against racketeering. The public and the press become involved and it ends with a twist that is totally unexpected.

  Death Has Deep Roots

  This is a detective and trial story with a complicated plot that will grip the reader. Victoria Lamartine is on trial for the murder of her supposed lover, whom she is accused of having stabbed. There are only five suspects including Lamartine. But evidence that doesn’t fit the police theory of the crime has been ignored, whilst all of the damming evidence is presented in isolation. Intriguingly, whilst the murder was committed in England, all of the suspects somehow have a past connection with France and its wartime underground. However, there now appears to be links to gold smuggling and it is not immediately clear how all of the different pieces of evidence fit together. As always, Gilbert neatly takes the reader to a satisfying final twist and conclusion.

  Death In Captivity

  A suspected informer is found dead in a collapsed section of an escape tunnel being dug in a prisoner-of-war camp in Italy. So as to protect the tunnel the prisoners decide to move the body to another that has already been abandoned. But then the fascist captors declare the death to be murder and determine to investigate and execute the officer they suspect was responsible. It therefore becomes a race against time to find the true culprit and Captain Henry "Cuckoo" Goyles, a former headmaster, master tunneller and sometime amateur detective takes on the case.

  The Doors Open

  One night on a commuter train, Paddy Yeatman-Carter sees a man attempting suicide. Intervening, he prevents the man from going through with it. However, the very next day the same man is found dead, and Paddy believes the circumstances to be extremely suspicious. Roping in his friend and lawyer, Nap Rumbold, he determines to discover the truth. They become increasingly suspicious of the dead man’s employers: the Stalagmite Insurance Company, who appear to hire some very dangerous staff.