Barbara Cleverly (16 page)

‘Flora,’ said Joe seriously, ‘I continue to wonder why you are telling us this. Are you planning to break with Troop? For good? Is this the end of a beautiful friendship? Or merely a lovers’ tiff?’

‘Break with Edgar? I wouldn’t dare!’

‘Leave it there,’ said Joe, ‘for the moment. But if we were to want to communicate with you without raising suspicions, without going through the Troop front-of-house presence, is there any way

?’

‘Of course. Claudio. Contact him. He is discreet and loyal to me. And now I will show you to a side door. Edgar will grow suspicious if I delay my appearance any longer.’ She smiled a sly smile. ‘We have a most distinguished visitor to the house this evening.’

As they walked back to the police station in the Simla dusk, they went over the two interviews, exclaiming, swearing and laughing.

‘Now see here, Sandilands,’ said Carter, handing back to Joe the packet of cigarettes Joe had claimed to have found, ‘you’re to give me warning before you go pulling a trick like that again!’

‘Well, you never know! Seemed worth the try,’ said Joe. ‘But the whole place seems to abound in smoker’s requisites to suit all types so I don’t think it got us very far. Even the madam likes to take a puff, it seems.’

‘So, where do you think all this leaves us? Troop? Flora? Reggie? In collusion or at each other’s throats? Who’s your money on? Can we believe a word Flora says?’

‘Well, considering Troop for a moment – he’s quite a conspirator, our Mr Troop, but not a very practised one!’

‘Oh? How so?’

‘Well, first, that was an over-elaborate alibi he dished up and it depends on the testimony of three or four people. If it’s true, then he has no problems but if it isn’t, they’d have to be as well rehearsed as the chorus of the Messiah if they’re all to give us the same story, same times, same places. Very easy to break down an alibi like that. Want to watch me do it?’

‘I’ll take Johnny Bristow and you can have Jackie Carlisle,’ said Carter with relish.

‘I shall be very surprised if there isn’t a gap or two. Not sure I believed a word he said.’

‘And then there’s the guns! I’ll get them examined as soon as we get to the station. Tomorrow we’ll fire off a few rounds and send the results to Calcutta.’

‘Fingerprinting?’ said Joe. ‘Are you all right for fingerprinting? I can — ’

‘Got everything we need,’ said Carter confidently.

‘And what did you make of Flora’s fingering her partner for the double murder? Does she perhaps want him out of the way? Is she really afraid of him? You seem to know her pretty well?’

‘Wouldn’t say that,’ said Carter uncomfortably. ‘I don’t think anyone really knows her. And as for being afraid – don’t be taken in! Is a crocodile afraid of a rabbit? I can tell you, Sandilands, if I had to encounter one or other of them in a dark alley I’d choose Troop every time!’

‘Still, there was something,’ said Joe slowly, ‘the wistful way she said she couldn’t move about in the same circles, have the same influence as Troop

there was a genuine uncertainty there and perhaps fear? Don’t you think?’

‘Come down to earth!’ said Carter derisively. ‘Flora has lots of charm and poise and stunning looks with a certain amount of sexual magnetism – to which many fall prey. And, speaking of which – how’s your blood pressure, heart rate and respiration? But don’t forget she runs a grossly immoral business. She stays inside the law but she goes along with me because I could close her down – and there’s a lot to be said for an establishment of that sort in a town of this sort. It’s an alliance perhaps but not a friendship. I’m sure I don’t need to say any of this – but, have a care, Joe! Have a care! Put your loose change and six-shooter under the pillow!’

‘Oh, come now! I didn’t think she was particularly setting out to charm and, anyway, I’m charm-proof!’

‘I think she batted a pair of dampened eyelashes at you and you melted! I can see I shall have to watch your back for you, Sandilands! Now, I’ll get the chaps to drop these guns off at the station and head for home. Meg will be pleased to see me. If you don’t hang about you might get back to the Governor’s house in time for dessert. Always assuming he’s there, of course, and not out roistering at Flora’s!’ He laughed. ‘She did say she was expecting some top brass this evening! Pity we’ll never know exactly who.’

Ť ^ ť

A little unsure of his welcome, Joe duly presented himself at the Residency. He couldn’t remember whether Sir George had been expecting him back for dinner and it was now half-past nine. But, hospitable to the last, Sir George greeted him with a cheerful bellow as he walked across the hallway and into the dining room.

‘Ah, there you are, my dear fellow! I understood that you had last been seen making your way under police escort into Madame Flora’s. Shan’t see him until morning! I thought. Boys will be boys! And worse – in Simla, men will be boys! What have you been up to, Joe?’

‘I really don’t know,’ said Joe, ‘how on earth your information service works! How the deuce could you possibly know that I’d visited Madame Flora? I only left there ten minutes ago.’

‘It’s very simple,’ said Sir George. ‘People like to keep in with me – they know I like to have information of all sorts and no better way of keeping in with me than by bringing me news as it arises. Anyway – so you’ve seen Madame Flora?’

‘I’ve seen her, I’ve seen the charming Captain Troop and I spent quite a lot of time earlier with Alice Conyers-Sharpe and, as no doubt you already know, I had lunch with Meg and Charlie Carter.’

‘Tell me – Alice – what about Alice?’

‘She has all the charm, all the elegance, all the competence – a sort of ruthless competence – and she has glittering success. Popular, you might say, with all classes of the community, including yourself, unless I’m mistaken.’

‘That’s all very fine, Joe, but your next sentence is going to start with the word “but”. Am I right?’

‘Yes,’ said Joe reluctantly, ‘you’re right. But there is something there I can’t get hold of. I’m absolutely convinced that there is some connection between her and Korsovsky. I believe there is some connection between her and Reggie Sharpe and Edgar Troop. I’m increasingly of the opinion that Troop knows a very great deal more about these killings than he is saying.’

Joe explained his suspicions concerning the .303 rifle.

As he spoke a procession entered the room. A tray bearing a bowl of soup, a chapatti, a cold roast grouse and, on the side, a green salad.

‘I guessed,’ said Sir George, ‘in the light of your busy evening that you hadn’t had anything to eat. Will this do you? There’s a good Stilton out there – shall I send for it?’

‘No. This’ll do me fine,’ said Joe. ‘Absolutely fine.’ And he continued his account.

‘I have a very strong feeling that some part of the secrets arise and are connected with the Beaune railway crash,’ he said, telling Sir George about the newspaper he’d found in Korsovsky’s luggage. ‘Alice remembers practically nothing about it. She was knocked cold by the first impact apparently but remembers coming round in hospital in Beaune. It’s always been said that she was the sole survivor and so she believes but we’ve discovered that that’s not true. According to Le Matin, there was a British officer on the train, name of Simpson, very badly wounded in the war and badly damaged in the crash. We’re trying to run him to earth to see what he has to tell us. Probably nothing to the point.’

‘Well, well,’ said Sir George. “That’s something, in spite of my impeccable information service, that I didn’t know! One more survivor, eh?’

‘And I have one other possible source: she’s not exactly a survivor, nor yet is she a witness, but there is someone who may have some information that is of value to us

I’m referring to Marie-Jeanne Pitiot. She’s right here in Simla.’

‘I know who you mean. Frenchwoman – another one. Runs a dress shop. Very successful, I believe. Why might she know anything about it?’

‘She’s probably the person who knows Alice better than anyone, I’m told, and she was with her right after the crash that seems to have had such significance for Korsovsky. I’m planning to call on her. Not quite sure how I can question her without seeming to breach Alice’s confidence, but there it is.’

I’m confident that you will handle the interview with aplomb,‘ said George. ‘You’ll find La Belle Epoque couldn’t be more different from the other French-run place in town! Height of elegance. Everything above board. Best clientele. Marie-Jeanne Pitiot has always seemed a bit mysterious to me, though,’ he added.

‘The ex-nurse?’

‘Yes. Seems a well-bred sort of woman. Good Catholic family, I understand. Parents wanted her to be a nun. That wasn’t Marie-Jeanne’s intention at all and they compromised on nursing. Rather a plain girl – gawky, that’s the word. I gather that marriage was not seen as much of an option.’

‘Has she kept up her friendship with Alice since they arrived here?’

‘Oh yes, I’d say they were very thick. She seems always to be on hand to support Alice in her more tense moments. She was with Alice at the shooting competition last year the day young Conyers was killed and it was Marie-Jeanne, I couldn’t help noticing, not Reggie to whom Alice turned for comfort when they broke the news of Lionel’s death. Now finish that up and have a glass of port. I’ll join you. We might go into the library – it’s rather more comfortable in there. Koi hai!’

They carried their glasses into the other room.

‘I like this room,’ said George. ‘More friendly. The rooms on the floor above, of course, are supposed to be for entertaining but you can’t really relax with a fifteen-foot ceiling, at least I can’t. Take the big chair by the window, have another glass and tell me, if you can, what possible motive do you ascribe to Edgar Troop? Why would he want to shoot Conyers and why Korsovsky? What gain could there possibly be for him unless you’re going to suggest that somebody employed him to do the dirty deed. (That’s not impossible, by the way.)’

‘I hadn’t told you that I suspected Edgar Troop but I won’t deny it – I do! It may simply be because I think he’s a nasty piece of work and I know that oughtn’t to influence me but it does. He’s just the sort of man I don’t like though I have to admit that he answered all Charlie Carter’s questions with manly frankness.’

‘Don’t kid yourself that you saw the whole of Flora’s establishment,’ said George. ‘I understand it goes for miles. It’s one of the oldest houses in Simla. It climbs the hill, it goes into the hill, they tell me – “caverns measureless to man” you might say. I think there are about six exits; there may be as many as thirty rooms. Impossible to raid even if you wanted to. I haven’t been worried about the place. You might say it serves a useful social function and gives no cause for concern – at least until recently.’

‘Recently?’ Joe asked.

‘There’s a very faint suspicion,’ said George. ‘We’re not far from the frontier here and, of course, smuggling is a way of life, smuggling anything – gold, firearms, women. It’s as old as the frontier itself but just lately it has seemed as if it’s been not only more widespread but better organized. There are an awful lot of rifles washing about in the world – British Army surplus, French Army surplus, German rifles (much in demand) – the demand has always been there and now you might say the supply has caught up with it. And the collapse of the Turkish Empire has had its effect and the Arab states – not so meticulous, not above a little slavery, it would appear.’

‘And if you had to pinpoint the marketplace for all this trade in Simla you’d say – Flora’s?’

‘It’s a possibility.’

Joe frowned. ‘Everywhere I turn in this investigation I confront – at the end of the passage as it were – an elegant, cooperative and even talkative woman. Eager to tell me all. And each with a faithful if mysterious gentleman friend in the background. Note this – we have Alice so eager to help, with the faithful Rheza Khan waiting in the wings to do her bidding. There is likewise the friendly but notably shady Flora, supported as far as we can tell by the no less shady Edgar Troop. And let’s not forget Claudio who will, we are assured, be prepared to fetch and carry. And linking the two we have the determination on the part of both of them, it would seem, to push Troop off the back of the sledge into the jaws of the pursuing wolves – that’s you, me and Carter!’

Ť ^ ť

It was early on Wednesday morning and Carter looked as though he’d been at his desk for hours. He was bubbling with information. ‘Lots to report! Sit down, Joe, and hear this! Koi hai! We’ll have some tea, please. And bring us some of those little Greek pastries.’

Carter’s welcome washed around Joe and he wondered whether the time would ever come when he would not feel the need to question it. His fast rise to his present high position in the force had engendered suspicion and jealousy on the part of his colleagues in England and he had learned to ride the waves of mistrust and misunderstanding using only the strength of his ability to support him. His record spoke for itself. But here was a provincial policeman with no knowledge of Joe’s past successes, his outstanding war record, his good family connections, accepting him for what he was – a fellow professional working to the same ends as himself with no suggestion of backbiting or rivalry.

Joe settled down for a happy exchange of information.

‘Worst things first, I always say. So here’s the bad news.’ Carter handed a telegram to Joe. ‘Korsovsky’s agent – G.M. He’s out of the country. We sent our telegram to his Paris office but they say he’s on his way to Prague. They’re sending it on. Do they have telegram facilities in Prague, do you suppose? Where is it anyway?’

‘Czechoslovakia. Important cultural centre – they’ve got the telegraph all right but we may have to wait a day or two. Infernal nuisance!’

‘Well, Korsovsky can’t wait even two or three days, I’m afraid. I’ve ordered the funeral for tomorrow at Christ Church. We’ll just have to hope the chap wasn’t a Muslim or a Zoroastrian.’

‘Have you got any further with the guns?’

‘Yes, we have. We’ve fired the rounds, got samples to compare with the fatal rounds extracted from the Governor’s upholstery and they’re, as we speak, on their way to Calcutta. We’ve fingerprinted them. Lots of dabs on the two rifles that were in the glass cupboard – the two that Troop described to us. And, of course, the likelihood is that they’re all his. I’ve sent a chap over to Flora’s to get samples of his fingerprints and then we’ll see. The other gun – the one in the oily rag – is a bit of a mystery. It had been wiped clean. Not a trace of a dab on it anywhere. What’s the betting that’s our weapon?’