Blood From a Stone (12 page)

‘That wasn't me,' said Bill with a smile, pushing a lock of ginger hair out of his eyes. ‘We were set on the right track by Mrs Stanton. No, not a cocktail, Stanton, thanks,' he said in answer to Arthur's question. ‘I'd rather have a whisky and soda.' He took the glass with satisfaction. ‘Thanks. I've earned this.'

He looked at Celia enquiringly. ‘Have you explained how the sapphires and money came to be stolen this morning?'

‘No, I haven't, actually,' said Celia, turning to Jack, Arthur and Isabelle. ‘A man came to the house this morning, supposedly looking for work. Dad found him hanging around the garden and didn't like the look of him, so turfed him off the premises. There's an old right of way that runs through the grounds, so it's perfectly easy to get in, but passers-by aren't meant to come up to the house, of course. He must've got into the study – the French windows open onto the garden – and looted the safe. Dad said there was some money missing, too.'

‘We found fifty pounds in his jacket pocket,' put in Bill.

‘There was fifty pounds missing from the safe,' said Celia. ‘That must be it.'

‘I'd say so,' said Bill. ‘The man murdered on the train was one Andrew Parsons. From what your father told me, the safe seems a very old-fashioned affair and Andrew Parsons was an expert safe-cracker.'

‘So I was right,' said Isabelle triumphantly. ‘He was a thief.'

‘Absolutely he was,' said Bill. ‘The Records Department turned him up.'

Arthur sipped his cocktail with a frown. ‘I still don't get it. Why murder someone and leave the sapphires?'

‘We think the murderer didn't realise Parsons had the sapphires,' said Jack. ‘Leonard Duggleby said they were pushed under the seat. Tell us what you've unearthed about Parsons, Bill.'

Bill took a cigarette from the box on the table. ‘There's no fingerprints or photographs on file, worse luck, as we never laid hands on him, but we had a record of him, all the same. You remember we found two cards in his things, Jack? Well, Parsons left a card in the Leighs' safe. He'd drawn a motif on it, a little cross with a circle over it like a halo. That motif was well known to the Yard a few years ago. Parsons, would you believe, is none other than the Vicar.'

‘The Vicar?' repeated Celia, puzzled. ‘A clergyman, you mean?'

Jack laughed. ‘From the sound of it I don't think he's a minister of the established church.' He looked at Bill. ‘It's a play on the name
Parsons
, isn't it?' Bill nodded. ‘Come on. Who the dickens is the Vicar?'

‘The Vicar,' said Bill, ‘had a pretty fierce reputation as a crook before the war.' He hunched forward. ‘There's always been a question mark over him. He was supposed to have been killed in 1915. He was cornered in a warehouse in Lambeth. The place caught fire and a charred body was recovered but, as you'd expect, there's always been rumours it wasn't his body and that he got away scot-free.'

‘Hang on,' said Jack, getting up and refilling his glass. ‘This is beginning to ring a bell. I wrote a series about past crimes for
On The Town
a couple of years ago. If he's the man I'm thinking of, he pulled off a good few robberies in France. Is he the chap who stole a small fortune in diamonds from the Calais Mail Train in 1911 or thereabouts?'

Bill nodded. ‘That's the one. The diamonds belonged to a Wenzel Osterhagen, the American butter king. I read up on the case this afternoon and I don't think the diamonds were ever on the train. Mrs Osterhagen's maid could have easily stolen the diamonds beforehand and passed them on to the Vicar.
She resigned shortly after the robbery and set up a fashionable milliners in New York, having apparently come into a considerable amount of money. The really rotten thing about the
whole business, though, is that the train guard was murdered. If the maid did steal the diamonds, the guard's murder was nothing more than a blind.'

Isabelle gave a little cry. ‘That's horrible!'

‘It didn't end there,' said Bill. ‘A string of thefts, a raft of assaults and at least three murders were attributed to him.'

‘Good God!' said Arthur. ‘I'd have thought that would have started a real hue and cry.'

‘You'd think so, Stanton, but all the victims were petty crooks and known informers and not the types to attract much sympathy. They'd promised to squeal on the Vicar but he got to them before we did, poor devils. We know it was the Vicar because he always signed his crimes with that cross and halo. Sometimes it would be chalked on a wall, sometimes it was drawn on a card or a piece of paper, but he always signed it.'

‘But why?' asked Isabelle and Celia together. ‘That's really creepy,' added Isabelle with a shudder. ‘Why advertise yourself like that?'

‘Mainly because it is creepy, I imagine,' said Bill. ‘He had a fair old reign of terror in the underworld before the war. He was a real hard case.'

‘I wonder if he's been holed up in France?' said Jack. ‘There was a definite French theme to the things we found on him. Was the knife a French trench dagger?'

‘It was. I had a good look at it after the doctor got it out. Unfortunately, as far as we're concerned, it's a type which was produced by the thousand. It had a plain wooden hilt, as we saw, Jack, a steel cross guard and a blade about seven inches long. It's a very efficient weapon.'

‘Vengeance,' said Jack. ‘If I know the type, it had
Le Vengeur 1870
inscribed on the blade.'

‘It did.'

‘I'm going to have nightmares at this rate,' complained Isabelle. ‘It was bad enough finding the man in the first place without you going on about daggers. Why on earth did it have
Vengeance
written on it?'

‘Because of the Franco-Prussian war,' said Jack absently. ‘The French had some scores to settle. It seems as if someone else did too. We were looking for a motive, weren't we, Bill? I wonder if it's revenge? Someone who wanted to be revenged on the Vicar, perhaps?'

‘You might be right,' said Bill. ‘It's worth bearing in mind, certainly.'

‘Who could that be?' asked Isabelle.

‘An old associate of the Vicar's, perhaps?' suggested Jack. ‘Actually, Bill, I wonder if that is the reason? The Vicar was supposed to have died in 1915. What if someone, someone with a grudge, spotted him, still alive and kicking, and decided to finish off the good work that should have been completed years ago?'

‘You don't know that,' said Arthur. ‘You don't know anything, really. You're just guessing.'

‘True,' admitted Jack.

‘I'll tell you what I think is odd, though,' continued Arthur. ‘If the Vicar was supposed to have died in 1915, why would he come back to England? And, if he did come back, wouldn't
he try and conceal his identity?'

‘I think Arthur's got a point,' said Isabelle. ‘Are you absolutely sure it was the Vicar?'

‘Who else could it be?' asked Bill. ‘Why should anyone try and make out it's the Vicar when it isn't? It's not like saying someone's Jack the Ripper, say. The Vicar had an unenviable reputation in the underworld, but he was virtually unknown to the public. Andrew Parsons is a very obscure figure. It wasn't his name that gave him away, but the cross and halo on the card.'

‘Andrew Parsons,' said Isabelle thoughtfully. ‘Andrew Parsons ... Did he have his initials on any of his things?'

‘As a matter of fact he did,' said Bill, puzzled. ‘His case and toiletry set and so on.'

‘His initials,' repeated Isabelle, slowly. ‘A.P.' She looked up sharply, her eyes bright. ‘Jack! A.P.!
France!
'

‘What about it?' he asked.

‘Don't you see?' she said excitedly. ‘Celia, what was the name of Mrs Paxton's son?'

‘Sandy,' said Celia. ‘I told you so earlier.'

‘But he was actually called Alexander, wasn't he? Alexander Paxton. A.P. The same initials as the Vicar. What if Paxton
is
the Vicar?'

‘Hang on a minute,' said Bill, blinking. ‘The Vicar's called Andrew Parsons not Alexander Paxton.'

‘That could be just a blind.'

Jack clicked his tongue. ‘The pun on the name
Parsons
doesn't work if the Vicar's actually called Paxton, does it?'

‘Excuse me,' said Celia repressively. ‘This is a relative of mine you're discussing.'

Isabelle wriggled impatiently.‘Come on, Celia. It was you who told us Sandy Paxton was a crook. After all, he disappeared, just as the Vicar did.'

‘He was posted as missing,' said Celia blankly. ‘That means he's dead.'

‘I know what it usually means,' said Isabelle impatiently, ‘but what if he's alive? According to the papers, Terence Napier said Sandy Paxton had deserted and was still alive. Mrs Paxton must've believed he was alive, otherwise she wouldn't have gone to France with Terence Napier.'

‘Well, if you're going to believe the word of a man like that ...'

‘He could be telling the truth.'

‘Come off it, Isabelle,' said Jack witheringly. ‘Sandy Paxton might or might not be alive but the Vicar was killed – or supposedly killed – in 1915. Sandy Paxton was certainly alive until he was posted missing on the Somme which, as you'll recall, was in 1916.'

‘We don't know that,' said Isabelle stubbornly. ‘He could've been leading a double life. We don't know either of them were killed when they said they were.'

‘True,' agreed Jack.

‘And,' she said, pressing home her advantage, ‘Celia told us he'd been an actor. It'd be easy for him to pretend to be someone else. In fact, that could be it, couldn't it? Sandy Paxton might not have been the real Vicar but he could've been pretending to
be
the Vicar.'

Jack rolled his eyes to heaven, but Arthur looked impressed.

‘That's an idea, Isabelle,' said Arthur. ‘How old would Paxton be, Celia? If he was alive, I mean?'

‘He'd be about forty, I suppose.'

Bill clicked his tongue. ‘The age is about right, as far as that goes, but if Sandy Paxton stole the sapphires, Miss Leigh's father would have recognised him when he turned up at the house yesterday, wouldn't he?'

‘Of course not,' said Celia. ‘He's dead. I keep on telling you he's dead.'

‘Just pretend, Celia,' said Isabelle. ‘Just for the moment, yes? If he was alive, would your father have recognised him?'

Celia frowned in disapproval but tried hard. ‘Actually, I don't think he would,' she said slowly. ‘Dad disapproved of Sandy intensely and had as little to do with him as possible.'

‘You see?' said Isabelle. ‘It could have been Sandy Paxton. If your father was convinced he'd died years ago, he wouldn't expect to see him, would he?' She looked at Bill and suddenly grinned. ‘I can see you're not convinced.'

‘I can't say I am,' said Bill. ‘I can't see why Paxton, or anyone else for that matter, would pretend to be an obscure crook from years ago. Even if the man on the train was Paxton, it doesn't tell us who killed him.'

‘I suggested a confederate before, Bill,' said Jack. ‘Did
the Vicar have any associates?'

‘He had people who worked for him, certainly. As far as we know, they're all dead.'

‘What if one isn't dead? What if the murderer is a disgruntled ex-confederate?'

Isabelle sat up straight. ‘Could
he
be Sandy Paxton? The confederate, I mean?'

‘Dash it, Belle, they can't all be Sandy Paxton,' said Jack with a laugh. ‘Although, to be fair, I think there's more chance of Paxton being one of the Vicar's hangers-on than the Vicar himself.'

‘Why's that, Jack?' asked Bill.

‘Well, let's say Paxton is alive.'

‘Ridiculous,' muttered Celia.

‘Let me play around with the idea,' said Jack with a smile. ‘We know there was a lot in the papers about the sapphires after Mrs Paxton was killed. Anyone – any prospective thief – could have read about the sapphires and decided to have a crack at them, but there's no doubt that if Sandy Paxton saw them, he'd be fascinated.'

He broke off and looked at Isabelle. ‘For your benefit, old prune, and just to show I've been paying attention, I'm going to use Sandy Paxton's name as a stand-in for the Vicar's partner. Celia, bear with me. Let's say the partner – who could be Paxton – gets in touch with his old pal, the Vicar, and they travel down to Breagan Grange to give the place a once over. Parsons, the Vicar, might have hoped to get into the grounds but he can't have expected to find the house open for him to stroll into. It sounded like an impulsive robbery and maybe it was.'

Bill nodded. ‘You mean the Vicar saw his chance and
took it?'

‘Double quick, I imagine. Now, Sandy Paxton isn't expecting Parsons to have the stones, so Parsons keeps stumm about the fact he's got them. Then, on the train, the Vicar is actually looking at the necklace when Sandy Paxton comes in to the compartment. Parsons shoves the sapphires under the seat to hide them. There must be some reason why they were under the seat. Paxton doesn't know that the Vicar has the jewels but catches on that he isn't being straight with him and they quarrel.'

‘As a matter of fact, Parsons could have started the quarrel on purpose,' said Bill. ‘If he had the stones and didn't want to let on, he'd want a reason to fall out with the man so he wouldn't have to share the proceeds.'

‘You might be right. However it started, though, Parsons comes off worse, and Paxton, or,' he added, with an eye on the rebellious Celia ‘– whoever the murderer actually is – skips as fast as possible, not knowing he's leaving a fortune in jewels under the seat.'

‘Isabelle saw Parsons get on the train at Market Albury, didn't you?' said Arthur. ‘Was there anyone with him?'