Noose for a Lady

by Gerald Verner

  ‘Do you mean, sir,’ he asked, ‘that somebody else…?’

  ‘Yes, somebody who thinks they are being very clever, Frost,’ said Gale. ‘They killed Hallam, and made it look as if his wife had done it. Now they’ve killed Rigg, don’t you think it’s possible they may be trying to involve Miss Lane?’

  ‘Oh, but…’ began Vanessa.

  ‘Be quiet, Vanessa,’ snapped Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys.

  ‘I see what you mean, sir,’ said Frost. ‘It’s possible, I s’pose…’

  ‘Well, quite obviously Rigg didn’t write the note himself,’ said Gale. ‘He couldn’t. He may have got someone else to write it for him, but I shouldn’t think that was likely. The only other explanation is that it was written to bring Vanessa to the caravan … Was there any time mentioned in it?’ He turned to Vanessa.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, quickly, ‘After eight-thirty.’

  ‘There you are, you see?’ Gale went on. ‘The writer intended to make sure that Rigg would be dead, and that we should be there, when you arrived on the scene…’

  ‘It was a long time after eight-thirty before Vanessa did get there,’ said Jill.

  ‘I couldn’t get away before…’

  ‘She was waiting an opportunity of slipping out without my knowing, Jill,’ said Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys. ‘She imagined, quite rightly, that I should not have let her go.’

  ‘Well,’ said Frost, ‘there may be somethin’ in your idea, Mr. Gale — though, if the intention was to make us suspect Miss Lane, it was a bit of a hit-and-miss job. She might ’ave ignored the note altogether…’

  ‘Ah!’ said Simon Gale, looking directly at Vanessa, ‘that depends on what was in it…’

  ‘What do you mean, Mr. Gale?’ demanded Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys.

  ‘I think you know very well what I mean,’ he answered. ‘What did the note really say?’

  ‘I’ve told you,’ said Vanessa.

  ‘That’s just what I don’t think you have,’ he remarked, quietly.

  ‘Mr. Gale,’ said Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys, acidly, ‘I am loath to believe that you intend to be deliberately insulting…’

  ‘You’re quite right, I don’t,’ he interrupted. ‘All I’m trying to get at is the truth…’

  ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about…’

  ‘Let me put it this way,’ he continued, ‘what did Jonas Rigg know about you and Vanessa that you were so afraid he might make public?’

  Vanessa uttered a low exclamation.

  ‘I think,’ said Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys, in her most majestic manner, ‘that you must have taken leave of your senses, Mr. Gale.’

  ‘That’s what was really referred to in the note, wasn’t it?’ he went on, ignoring this interruption. ‘Not some hypothetical danger that you might be in?’

  ‘No,’ cried Vanessa, vehemently, ‘no, no…’

  ‘You thought Rigg had discovered the same thing that John Hallam had discovered,’ said Gale, relentlessly. ‘That’s right, isn’t it?’

  ‘I refuse to listen to any more of this rubbish,’ said Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys.

  ‘Hell’s bells,’ exclaimed Simon Gale, angrily. ‘Why don’t you tell us the truth, both of you?’

  ‘Simon…’ began Martin.

  ‘Be quiet!’ snapped his brother.

  ‘How dare you speak to me like that, Mr. Gale,’ said Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys.

  ‘I’ll tell you why I dare, Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys,’ said Gale. ‘Because at the present moment Margaret Hallam is under sentence of death for something she didn’t do, and you are prepared to risk that sentence being carried out, sooner than suffer the slightest unpleasantness yourself…’

  ‘It’s not true,’ cried Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys. ‘It’s not true…’

  ‘It is true,’ said Gale. ‘I know the kind of man Hallam was. He liked to find things out about people, and hold his knowledge over their heads — it gave him a perverted pleasure to make them suffer. He knew something about you, Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys, which you’re terrified may come out…’

  ‘Absurd!’ she declared. ‘I never heard such nonsense…’

  Gale swung round on Vanessa.

  ‘Do you think it’s nonsense?’ he snapped.

  She flinched.

  ‘I … yes, yes, of course … of course I do,’ she whispered. And then she suddenly burst into a flood of tears.

  ‘Vanessa,’ Martin came quickly to her, ‘Vanessa, don’t…’

  ‘Go away,’ she sobbed, ‘go away…’

  Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys rose to her feet. ‘I think it would be better if you all went,’ she said.

  Gale shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Very well,’ he said, coldly, ‘but I should advise you to think over what I’ve said.’

  ‘There is nothing to think over,’ she said.

  ‘If you do know anythin’, ma’am,’ put in Frost, ‘that’s likely to ’elp us, it’s your duty to.’

  ‘I am perfectly aware of my duty, Inspector Frost,’ she said. ‘I cannot see that it is part of it to allow my niece to be upset and myself insulted.’

  ‘I’m sorry you should take that attitude, Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys,’ said Gale.

  ‘Simon is only trying to help Margaret,’ said Jill.

  ‘All and everything concerning John Hallam may be of help, Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys. Remember that after Thursday it will be too late — nothing will do any good then. How will you feel afterwards — knowing that you could have helped, and didn’t…’

  ‘Will you — please go?’ Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys almost hissed the words.

  ‘Yes, we’ll go,’ said Gale, ‘but I don’t envy either of you your thoughts.’

  *

  Inspector Frost lifted a white-capped tankard.

  ‘Your very good health, Mr. Gale — your very good health, miss,’ he said.

  ‘Good luck,’ said Gale.

  ‘Cheerio!’ said Jill.

  They had dropped into the Hand and Flower after leaving Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys’ house, because Simon Gale asserted that he must have lots of beer to wash away the nasty taste in his mouth.

  ‘You know,’ said Frost, wiping his lips, ‘I thought you was carryin’ things a bit high handed with those two, sir, but now you’ve told me about Major Fergusson, of course I can see what you was gettin’ at. You think Mr. ’Allam was playin’ the same game with ’er?’

  ‘Yes — and with several other people as well,’ said Gale. ‘Fergusson said he’d as good as admitted it.’

  ‘I would never have believed that father could — could be so beastly,’ said Jill.

  ‘Queer form of amusement, but not so uncommon as you might think,’ said Gale. ‘Of course, Hallam carried it to unusual lengths — he was abnormal.’

  ‘Well, you don’t ’ave to look far for a motive for ‘is murder, sir,’ said Frost.

  ‘So you’re beginning to come round to my way of thinking, eh, Inspector?’ asked Simon.

  ‘I’m certainly beginnin’ to believe that Mrs. ‘Allam may not be guilty, after all, an’ that’s a fact, sir.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so glad,’ exclaimed Jill.

  ‘But we’ve got a long way to go before we can say who is,’ said Frost, shaking his head.

  ‘At the moment it might be any one of them, mightn’t it?’ said Gale. ‘Upcott, Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys, Vanessa, Miss Ginch, Fergusson…’

  ‘Surely not Major Fergusson, Simon?’ objected Jill. ‘He wouldn’t have come and told you about father if…’

  ‘If he was clever he would,’ broke in Gale, ‘and our poisoner is very clever.’

  ‘Clever enough to ’ave thought of sendin’ that note to Miss Lane, sir,’ remarked Frost.

  Simon swirled the beer round in his tankard, and frowned at it. ‘There’s something about that I can’t understand,’ he said.

  ‘What do you mean, sir?’

  ‘Was there a note at all,’ said Gale. ‘If Vanessa had to find an excuse for coming to Rigg’s caravan,
that would have been as good a one as any, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘That would account for ’er not bein’ able to find it.’

  ‘There’s another reason. If there was a note, and it contained some reference to this thing that both Vanessa and Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys are so anxious to hide — something that Hallam knew about them — they’d still pretend it was lost. I can’t make up my mind which is the truth.’

  ‘Whichever it is, you made ’em feel proper uncomfortable, an’ that’s a fact, sir.’

  ‘I meant to,’ said Simon. ‘I hope it may have some effect.’

  ‘Martin was furious,’ said Jill. ‘That’s why he went off in a temper.’

  ‘I don’t care a fig whether Martin’s furious or not,’ retorted Gale. ‘There’s only one important thing — and that’s to get Maggie out of that condemned cell. We can straighten other things out afterwards.’

  ‘An’ we’ll ’ave our work cut out to do it, an’ that’s a fact, sir,’ said Frost. ‘Two an’ a half days — that’s all we’ve got.’

  ‘It’s got to be time enough,’ said Gale.

  ‘Well, sir,’ said Frost, ‘I’ll be able to ’elp officially now, since Rigg was murdered.’

  ‘Yes, that’s something to be thankful for,’ answered Simon. ‘We shall need all the help we can get … Jill, do you feel like throwing a little party this evening?’

  She stared at him in astonishment. ‘A party, Simon?’

  ‘Yes — you might ask Upcott, Miss Ginch, Doctor Evershed — and you can try Vanessa and Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys if they’ll come … oh, and Fergusson, too.’

  ‘I’m sure Major Fergusson won’t come,’ she said. ‘He never goes anywhere.’

  ‘Perhaps you’d better leave him to me,’ said Gale. ‘I might be able to persuade him.’

  ‘What’s the idea?’ asked Jill, curiously. ‘Why do you want me to ask all these people to Easton Knoll?’

  ‘Just a little experiment,’ he replied.

  She was going to question him further when the landlord came over.

  ‘Oh, excuse me, Miss ’Allam,’ he said confidentially, ‘I forgot to mention it before. I ’ope there was no inconvenience caused over the beer.’

  ‘The beer?’ said Jill.

  ‘Yes, miss,’ answered the landlord. ‘Yer see, I couldn’t let your ’ousekeeper ’ave any bottled beer yesterday mornin’ ’cos it ’adn’t come in. I’ve got plenty now, if you should be wantin’ any?’

  ‘Oh … I see … thank you…’ she stammered.

  ‘You’d better send a crate up to the house, landlord,’ broke in Gale.

  ‘Very good, sir. I’ll ’ave it got up this afternoon.’ The landlord nodded and went to attend to a new customer.

  ‘Simon,’ said Jill, a little bewildered. ‘I don’t understand … Mrs. Barrett evidently tried to get some bottled beer here yesterday morning.’

  Inspector Frost pursed his lips. ‘That’s rather a rummy coincidence, sir, considerin’,’ he remarked.

  ‘Yes, isn’t it?’ said Gale, thoughtfully. ‘Very rummy…’

  Jill stopped playing and got up from the piano as Martin came into the room. She had spent the afternoon alone. Simon Gale and his brother had both gone out immediately after lunch.

  ‘Where’s Simon?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ answered Martin curtly. He looked worried and ill-humoured.

  ‘Where do you think he can have gone to?’ asked Jill.

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Anywhere. Simon’s a law unto himself. You’ll realize that when you know him better…’

  ‘I think he might have said where he was going.’

  ‘Simon might do a lot of things that he doesn’t,’ grunted Simon’s brother. ‘There are times when he makes me sick.’

  ‘I know — this morning was one of them, wasn’t it?’ she said.

  ‘Yes, it was.’

  ‘You needn’t snap my head off,’ she retorted. ‘It was nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Vanessa was upset enough as it was,’ he said, sulkily. ‘Without Simon making it worse.’

  ‘Don’t you think Margaret’s life is more important than upsetting Vanessa?’ she said.

  He took out a cigarette and lighted it. ‘I wouldn’t grumble if it was going to help Maggie — you ought to know that,’ he said, inhaling deeply. ‘But it won’t. It’s absurd to imagine that Vanessa had anything to do with your father’s death.’

  ‘Is it?’ said Jill quietly.

  ‘Of course it is,’ said Martin. ‘How could she? Can you imagine Vanessa poisoning anyone?’

  ‘Do poisoners have some sort of outward and visible sign, then?’ she asked.

  ‘No — but Vanessa … Ridiculous!’

  ‘What about Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys?’ said Jill. ‘Does she come under your championship too?’

  ‘There’s no reason why you should try and be funny about it,’ he said crossly.

  ‘I’m not … I don’t think it’s a little bit funny.’

  ‘All I’m saying is that Simon might have shown more tact,’ grumbled Martin. ‘Vanessa had a pretty bad shock — coming to that beastly caravan and — and finding Rigg and all of us. It was only natural she should be upset. When everybody started in on her about that wretched note.’

  ‘You must admit,’ said Jill, ‘that there’s something very strange about that note.’

  ‘I think Simon was right about it. It was obviously a trap to drag Vanessa into this thing.’

  ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘Of course it was.’

  ‘I wonder…’

  Martin flared up. ‘Are you suggesting that there wasn't a note?’ he demanded.

  ‘It wouldn’t be much good if I did, would it?’ she snapped. ‘If Vanessa says she had a note, she must have had a note … That’s how you look at it, isn’t it?’

  ‘I believe her, if that’s what you mean?’

  ‘Oh, you’d believe her whatever she said,’ she declared irritably.

  ‘I don’t know about that, but I’m sure she’s telling the truth in this instance.’

  ‘Well, I’m not!’ said Jill.

  Martin flung his half smoked cigarette into the fire. His face reddened and he looked very angry.

  ‘I don’t think you’ve any right to say that!’ he exclaimed.

  She looked at him and sighed suddenly. ‘I wonder if you’d stick up for me like that?’ she said.

  ‘I suppose I would … yes, I’m sure I would.’ The anger died out of his face. ‘But you’re different, Jill. You’re much more capable of looking after yourself.’

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘Vanessa’s so — so helpless.’

  She laughed. It was a short and rather bitter laugh.

  ‘You don’t really know her very well, do you?’ she said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You don’t know much about women, Martin.’

  ‘Look here, I’m not exactly a schoolboy,’ he protested.

  ‘Vanessa adopts that pose because it suits her,’ said Jill. ‘Can’t you see that? It’s useful, sometimes, to appear helpless and appealing. It gets you things that you wouldn't get otherwise … Vanessa’s quite clever really … ’

  ‘You don’t like her,’ said Martin. ‘That’s why you say these things … ’ ‘You’re wrong, Martin,’ she shook her head. ‘I think she’s a very nice girl, but she doesn’t fool me. Underneath she’s a little selfish and rather hard … ’

  ‘Well, I suppose most of us are,’ he said.

  ‘Yes — but when you say that Vanessa is ‘helpless’ … it’s just silly … ’

  Mrs. Barrett came in and interrupted the argument — an interruption for which they were both thankful. The housekeeper wanted to know about the arrangements for that evening and when she had gone, Martin said:

  ‘What’s happening tonight, Jill? Who’re coming?’

  ‘Mr. Upcott, Doctor Evershed, Miss Ginch — I’m not sure about Major Fergusson — an
d Inspector Frost … ’

  ‘What’s the idea?’ he asked.

  She shook her head.

  ‘It’s Simon’s,’ she said.

  ‘What on earth’s he up to now?’ muttered Martin, frowning.

  ‘I don’t know, he didn’t say,’ said Jill. ‘He asked me to invite those people for this evening, and I have, but I don’t know what it’s all about.’

  ‘Didn’t he want Vanessa and Mrs. Langdon-Humphreys?’

  ‘Yes, I asked them both, but they didn’t think they’d be able to come.’

  Martin grunted. ‘I’m not surprised after this morning,’ he said. ‘I wonder what Simon’s playing at’

  ‘He said he wanted to try an experiment,’ she said.

  ‘And now he’s vanished somewhere?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Martin thrust his hands into his pockets. His forehead wrinkled into a puckered frown.

  ‘I wonder where the deuce he’s gone to?’ he muttered.

  *

  ‘In here, Hallam,’ said the wardress, curtly.

  Margaret Hallam walked slowly into the visitors’ room, but her face lit up with pleasure when she saw who was awaiting her.

  ‘Simon!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Hello, Maggie,’ he greeted with a grin. ‘I thought it was time I popped in and had a look at you.’

  ‘I’m so very glad to see you, Simon,’ she said.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ He eyed her critically. ‘You’re not looking too bad, I must say.’

  He took a step nearer and the wardress’s voice broke in warningly:

  ‘Keep the regulation distance from the prisoner, please.’

  ‘All right, all right,’ said Gale. ‘I know. I’ve no files, hacksaws, bottles of arsenic, or other lethal weapons concealed about me … There you are, hands on the table according to the rules and regulations.’

  He slapped his hands, palm downwards on the long table.

  ‘The rules have to be obeyed,’ said the wardress stolidly.

  ‘They will be, my good woman,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry … sit down, Maggie.’

  She sat down and they faced each other across the dividing table.

  ‘Have you come up from Easton Knoll?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes — I wanted to ask you one or two questions,’ he said.

  ‘Simon — have you found out anything?’ she demanded, eagerly. ‘Is there any chance…?’