‘It was barbitone right enough, sir,’ said Frost.
‘Nearly a hundred and twenty grains — more than the lethal dose,’ put in Evershed.
‘Was it given him in the beer?’
‘There were traces of barbitone in the dregs,’ answered Frost. ‘A considerable quantity.’
‘That seems good enough,’ grunted Gale. ‘What about fingerprints?’
‘There was only Rigg’s on the bottle, sir.’
‘That’s conclusive — it was murder then,’ said Gale.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Jill. ‘How does that make it conclusive?’
‘Hell’s bells, don’t you see?’ he replied. ‘The bottle must have been wiped clean before Rigg took hold of it. Otherwise there would have been the prints of the person who sold the beer to him.’
‘That’s a fact there would, sir,’ said Frost, approvingly. ‘Very smart of you to see that.’
Rigg certainly wouldn’t have bothered to wipe the bottle, so it must have been the person who planted it,’ said Gale.
‘Planted it?’ repeated Jill.
‘Yes, I think the beer was left in Rigg’s caravan, ready primed with barbitone, while he was out. The murderer knew he wouldn’t be able to resist it.’
‘But surely Rigg would have wondered where it came from?’ said Jill.
‘Probably he did, but I doubt if it would have bothered him very much. He drank his gift from the gods and — that was the end.’
‘It seems quite sound to me,’ remarked Evershed.
‘Yes, I’ll say that was about the size of it, sir,’ agreed Frost.
‘All we’ve got to do now is find the person who give it ’im.’
‘That’s all,’ said Gale sarcastically.
‘Not so easy,’ said Evershed.
‘As a start,’ suggested Simon, ‘we might pay a visit to Robert Upcott.’
‘Yes, I agree, sir.’
‘It would be well worth finding out just how many of those barbitone tablets he has left,’ said Gale.
Robert Upcott was surprised to see them, but he greeted them with his usual effusiveness.
‘Why, this is a pleasant surprise,’ he said. ‘Delightful! Come in, do come in. Your arrival is really a blessing. Miss Ginch is in the drawing-room.’
‘Good morning, sir,’ said Inspector Frost, emerging from behind one of the pillars of the porch. Mr. Upcott looked startled and, Gale thought, a little frightened.
‘Inspector Frost,’ he said. ‘Good gracious! I do hope you haven’t come in an official capacity, Inspector?’
‘Well, sir, partly,’ answered Frost, ‘an’ that’s a fact. Last night a man named Rigg…’
‘Oh, yes, yes, what a dreadful thing, wasn’t it?’ Upcott shut the front door behind them.
‘You know what happened, then?’
‘Miss Ginch had just been telling me about it when you knocked. Shocking
— positively shocking! It’s really terrible the things one hears and reads about these days. Come into the drawing-room — I’ve just made some coffee.’
He ushered them into the dainty room, fussing round them in his usual irritating manner. Miss Ginch was perched on the extreme edge of a chair, and looking most uncomfortable.
‘Miss Ginch,’ cried Upcott, gaily, ‘do you see who’s called…’
‘Good morning, Miss Ginch,’ said Jill.
‘Good morning, Miss Hallam. Good morning, Mr. Gale. Dear me, and Inspector Frost, too.’ Miss Ginch’s eyebrows rose in an arc. ‘How very extraordinary.’
‘Good mornin’, miss,’ said the Inspector.
‘I called to collect some books that Mr. Upcott so very kindly promised for the sale — the jumble sale, you know,’ said Miss Ginch, hastening to explain her presence, ‘and he insisted that I should stay and partake of coffee.’
‘You’d like coffee, Miss Hallam?’ broke in Upcott. ‘You’d all like coffee. You would — I’m sure you would.’
‘Not for me,’ answered Simon. ‘Beer’s more in my line … ’
‘Bottled beer?’ said Mr. Upcott. ‘I have some very excellent bottled beer. You would prefer beer, Inspector? I’m sure you would.’
‘Well, I never say no to a drop o’ beer, Mr. Upcott, an’ that’s a fact,’ said Frost.
‘I’ll run along and get some at once,’ said Upcott. ‘Miss Ginch — would you mind pouring Miss Hallam out some coffee? There’s a spare cup on the tray.’
He tripped away closing the door behind him. Miss Ginch picked up the coffee-pot.
‘Is it true what I’ve heard,’ she said, ‘that that unfortunate man, Rigg, is dead?’
‘It’s true enough, miss,’ said Frost.
‘Evil livers come to evil ends. Yes, indeed,’ said Miss Ginch as she poured out the coffee for Jill. ‘I don’t wish to be unchristian, but I cannot help thinking that the village will benefit.’
She nodded several times as she handed the cup to Jill.
‘Somebody benefited, Miss Ginch,’ said Simon Gale. ‘Rigg was murdered.’
‘Murdered?’ Miss Ginch looked shocked. ‘Dear me, how very terrible … I understood it was suicide.’
‘He was poisoned — with barbitone. It was given to him in a bottle of beer.’
‘Beer?’
The door opened and Mr. Upcott came in with a tray laden with bottles and glasses.
‘Beer...’ repeated Miss Ginch, and eyed the tray thoughtfully.
‘I’m sorry to have been so long,’ said Upcott setting the tray down. ‘I so seldom drink beer that I couldn’t remember where I’d put it.’
Gale pointed to the tray.
‘It was in a bottle of beer — just like one of those, Miss Ginch.’
‘Dreadful — really dreadful,’ said Miss Ginch, with a lady-like shudder.
‘What are you talking about, Mr Gale?’ asked Upcott in surprise. ‘What was in a bottle of beer?’
‘The poison which killed Rigg,’ said Gale.
‘Mr. Gale says it wasn’t suicide,’ said Miss Ginch.
‘Not murder?’ exclaimed Upcott. ‘Oh, no — that would be too shocking … ’ ‘I’m afraid it was murder, Mr. Upcott, an’ that’s a fact,’ said Frost, gravely. ‘Rigg died from a large dose of barbitone … ’ ‘Barbitone?’ echoed Upcott in horror. ‘Yes, sir. I understand,’ the Inspector went on, ‘that you ’ave in your possession a quantity of barbitone tablets which you got yesterday on a prescription issued by Doctor Evershed?’
‘Good gracious, Inspector,’ cried Upcott in alarm, ‘you don’t imagine … you can’t be suggesting that I—?’
‘No, no, sir,’ broke in Frost soothingly. ‘I’m just checkin’ up, that’s all. ’Ave you still got those tablets, Mr. Upcott?’
‘Yes, yes, of course. I took two last night — I have the remainder upstairs.’
‘Could I see them, sir?’
‘Really, Inspector, can’t you take my word? I assure you—’
‘I’m afraid I shall have to see them, sir,’ insisted Frost.
‘Oh … well … if you insist … I’ll get them at once. Oh, dear, this is most upsetting … most upsetting…’
In a great state of agitation Upcott trotted from the room and they heard him climbing the stairs. Miss Ginch, her eyes shining with excitement, said with relish:
‘Do you really suspect Mr. Upcott?’
‘Not exactly, miss,’ answered Frost stolidly, ‘but, you see, barbitone was used an’ we’re tryin’ to find where it came from.’
‘Oh, dear me,’ she said, almost wriggling with excitement, ‘it’s quite thrilling. Yes indeed — quite thrilling.’
‘Do you really find it so, Miss Ginch?’ asked Gale with interest. ‘You’re rather enjoying it, aren’t you?’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Mr. Gale. The taking of human life is so very terrible…’
Upcott came back breathlessly.
‘Here you are, Inspector,’ he said, holding out a round cardboard box. ‘These are the
tablets. There were fifty. I used two, as I told you — these are the remaining forty-eight. Count them — do count them.’
Frost peered into the little box.
‘They look to be the right number, sir,’ he said. ‘I’ll take these if you don’t mind. Let you ’ave ’em back in a day or so.’
‘Oh, you needn’t bother,’ said Upcott. ‘Please keep them as long as you like. You’re satisfied? I’m sure you’re satisfied?’
‘You’ve had quite a number of prescriptions for barbitone, haven’t you, Upcott?’ said Simon Gale.
‘Yes, I’ve been taking them for a number of years,’ said Upcott. ‘They are really the only things that do my insomnia any good, you know.’
‘Then those you have just given Inspector Frost could quite easily be old stock, couldn’t they?’ said Gale.
Inspector Frost gave a fat chuckle as they walked down the path after leaving the agitated Robert Upcott.
‘You put the wind up him, sir, an’ that’s a fact,’ he said.
‘He did look a bit upset, didn’t he?’ said Gale.
‘He nearly turned green,’ said Jill. ‘Do you really think he…?’
‘I don’t know, Jill,’ answered Gale. ‘Everything we’ve got against him is only conjecture, isn’t it?’
You’re right, there, sir,’ agreed the Inspector. ‘If he killed Rigg, then ’e must’ve killed Mr. ’Allam, an’ what would ’e want to do that for? There’s no motive. ’
‘There might be a very good motive,’ said Simon. ‘I learned something very interesting from Major Fergusson this morning.’
‘What, sir?’
‘I was going to ask you what he came for, Simon,’ said Jill.
‘I’ll tell you both later,’ said Gale. ‘There isn’t time now — we’re nearly at
Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys’ house, aren’t we?’
‘It’s not very far … What’s happened to Martin, this morning, Simon? I haven’t seen him since breakfast.’
‘I don’t know — he went out somewhere,’ answered Simon, ‘I say, did you notice Miss Ginch? When she thought we suspected Upcott, I mean. She was almost licking her lips.’
‘Yes, I saw,’ said Jill. ‘It was rather horrible.’
‘She’s a real nasty bit o’ work, an’ that’s a fact,’ said Frost.
‘This will give her something to talk about,’ said Jill, ‘she’ll spread it all over the village.’
‘It’s a bit ’ard on Mr. Upcott,’ said the Inspector, ‘’specially if ’e ’adn’t anything to do with it.’ He chuckled again.
‘What are you laughing at?’ asked Jill.
‘It’s just occurred to me, miss,’ he answered. ‘We never ’ad that beer, did we?’
‘Did you notice it was the same brand as that bottle at Rigg’s place?’ asked Gale.
The Inspector nodded.
‘There’s nothing much in that, sir,’ he answered. ‘It’s very common round these parts, that brand … ’Ere we are, this is Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys’ house.’
They stopped in front of a small house standing on its own in about an acre and a half of ground. It was very trim and neat but Gale had expected something larger. He said so.
‘She used to live at Pine Lodge,’ said Jill. ‘That’s a lovely old place — bigger than Easton Knoll. She had to give it up when her husband died. She’s not very well off now … ’
‘A tragedy that was,’ said Frost, shaking his head. ‘Thrown from ’is ’orse while ’e was ’untin’ an’ broke ’is neck.’
‘When did that happen?’ asked Gale.
‘About three years ago,’ said Jill.
‘Has Vanessa always lived with Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys?’
‘Oh, no,’ she answered. ‘She didn’t come until after Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys moved from Pine Lodge. We’d never heard of her until then.’
It was Vanessa who opened the door to their ring.
‘Oh … hello, Jill,’ she said in surprise.
‘Hello, Vanessa … can we come in?’ ‘Yes, of course … Martin’s here.’ Jill’s face changed. She looked annoyed. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘so that’s where he went to?’
‘Didn’t you know?’ said Vanessa. ‘I thought that was why you’d come.’
‘No, I didn’t know,’ said Jill, curtly. Vanessa ushered them into the hall and shut the door.
‘Come in here,’ she said and led the way into the drawing-room. ‘Auntie — here’re Jill and Mr. Gale … ’
‘And Inspector Frost apparently,’ remarked Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys, looking up from a piece of embroidery she was working on. ‘Why have you come to see us, Inspector?’
‘I’d like to ask Miss Lane one or two questions about last night, ma’am,’ he said.
‘Well, don’t stand in the doorway,’ said Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys. ‘Come in and sit down.’
‘Thank you, ma’am.’
‘I didn’t expect you’d all turn up here,’ said Martin. ‘I was just coming to look for you.’
‘I’m sure you were, Martin,’ said Jill. ‘We wondered what had happened to you. I suppose we might have known.’
‘Well, I thought — after last night — I’d just pop along and see how Vanessa was feeling,’ he said.
‘It was very nice of you,’ said Vanessa.
‘Yes, very sweet of you, Martin,’ remarked Jill, acidly.
‘What do you want to ask my niece?’ demanded Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys, turning a cold stare on the Inspector.
Frost cleared his throat.
‘Just one or two questions, ma’am,’ he answered.
‘My niece told you everything she could last night,’ said Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys, carefully selecting a piece of silk from the basket beside her. ‘I fail to see what else you can have to ask her?’
‘I’m not quite clear on one thing, ma’am,’ said Frost. ‘It’s about this note that Rigg’s s’posed to have sent you, miss. Have you been able to find it?’
‘No, I’m — I’m afraid I haven’t,’ answered Vanessa. ‘I must have lost it.’
‘Did you see it, Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys?’ asked the Inspector.
‘No — I knew nothing about it until afterwards. My niece was very foolish to take any notice of it.’
‘It seems to me rather peculiar that she did,’ said Gale.
‘But I told you,’ broke in Vanessa. ‘It said that auntie was in danger.’
‘And you wanted to find out what the danger was, is that it?’
‘Yes — yes, that’s it,’ she answered eagerly.
‘It seems quite a natural thing to do, Simon,’ said Martin.
‘It would be if Vanessa were anticipatory of any danger to her aunt,’ said Gale. ‘Were you, Vanessa?’
‘Well — no, no, I wasn’t,’ she answered hesitantly, ‘not until I got the note.’
‘Then it seems extraordinary that you should go rushing off to see a man like Rigg, at that hour, just because he sends you a note,’ said Gale. ‘Did you know Rigg?’
‘Only what I’d heard about him,’ said Vanessa.
‘My niece acted on a sudden impulse, Mr. Gale,’ put in Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys, without looking up from her work. ‘There’s nothing extraordinary about it at all. Had she told me what she intended to do, I should have prevented it.’
‘This note was delivered by ‘and, I s’pose?’ asked Frost.
‘Yes … I — I suppose so,’ said Vanessa. ‘I found it in the letter box.’
‘If it came by post there would have been a stamp on the envelope, miss.’
‘There may have been,’ she answered, ‘I — I don’t remember.’
‘Well, there’s no gettin’ away from it — it’s peculiar, an’ that’s a fact,’ remarked Inspector Frost. ‘It couldn’t have come from Rigg, you know?’
‘Why not?’ asked Vanessa sharply.
‘What do you mean, Inspector?’ Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys looked up with sudden interest.
‘Because you see,’ said Inspector Frost,
dropping his bombshell with deadly accuracy, ‘Rigg couldn’t either read or write.’
It was quite evident that Inspector Frost’s statement was unexpected. It produced a momentary, and rather weird, effect of suspended animation among his hearers. Vanessa was the first to recover.
‘But that’s impossible,’ she declared, ‘you must be wrong.’
‘Are you sure of that?’ asked Simon Gale.
‘Oh, yes, sir,’ said Frost. ‘There’s no doubt about it.’
‘You never mentioned it last night,’ said Martin.
‘I didn’t know last night,’ said Frost. ‘I was makin’ some inquiries about Rigg this mornin’ an’ that fact came to light, sir. ’E couldn’t even sign ’is own name.’
‘But he must have been able to,’ persisted Vanessa. ‘The note he sent me was signed…’
‘It’s a great pity you haven’t got it, isn’t it, Vanessa?’ remarked Jill.
‘I don’t know what happened to it,’ said Vanessa. ‘I’ve hunted everywhere. I thought I took it with me — when I went to the caravan…’
‘Perhaps you dropped it on the way?’ suggested Martin, helpfully.
‘That’s quite likely. Did you put it in your pocket?’
‘I can’t remember,’ she answered, ‘I may have — I was very worried and upset…’
‘Well, it’s a very funny thin’, miss, an’ that’s a fact,’ said the Inspector. ‘I don’t see how the note could have come from Rigg
‘Are you insinuating that my niece is lying to you, Inspector?’ said Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys, in a quiet but deadly tone.
‘No ma’am,’ he answered, ‘but you must see that if this feller, Rigg, couldn’t write, ’e couldn’t have sent the note…’
‘Perhaps he didn’t,’ said Simon Gale.
‘If Vanessa says she received a communication from this man, Mr. Gale,’ said
Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys, ‘I see no reason to doubt that fact…’
‘I wasn’t suggesting that, Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys,’ said Gale. ‘I meant the note may not have come from Rigg…’
‘But Vanessa says it was signed with Rigg’s name,’ said Jill.
‘That doesn’t necessarily mean that Rigg knew anything about it,’ retorted Gale.
Inspector Frost looked interested.
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