Read Death in the Andamans Online

Authors: M. M. Kaye

Death in the Andamans (26 page)

BOOK: Death in the Andamans
5.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

‘We didn't see anything at all,' said Valerie. ‘And what's more, I believe that she carried the thing she threw away stuffed down the front of her frock, and it stands to reason that she couldn't shove a hammer or a kitchen poker down there without it being pretty noticeable if anyone had stopped her.'

Nick uttered a sound between a laugh and a groan and pushed his hands through his hair so that it was ruffled again. ‘God forbid that I should ever meddle with a job like this again! What we need is Scotland Yard and the Ten Best Brains of Britain to cope with this bloody jig-saw puzzle. And I — heaven forgive me! — had an idea that if we dug about we might with luck come across something that would give us a lead. But I didn't bargain for half a hundred separate leads. Let's go and tackle that woman about it at once and see what she's got to say.'

‘No!' said Valerie firmly. ‘That would be fatal. If we try and bounce her into anything she'll only deny it hotly. Copper and I will wait for a suitable opportunity, and try and lure her into having a girlish chat when she is slightly less hysterical.'

‘All right. Then let's get on with the three-ring circus. Who's next?'

‘Rosamund Purvis. Take over, Nick.'

‘Nothing doing. It takes a woman to prosecute a woman. Take her yourself.'

Valerie chewed the end of her pencil for a moment or two, and then wrote once again in the notebook. ‘How will this do?' she inquired. ‘
ROSAMUND PURVIS
. Opportunity: same as everyone else. Motive: possibly the same one as Copper suggested for Leonard, and Charles for Hamish — “Mistaken Identity”, i.e. she killed Ferrers in mistake for Ronnie. Goodness knows she must have wanted to do it pretty often. He treats her abominably, and
____
'

‘You know,' interrupted Nick wearily, ‘that theory of Copper's struck me as pretty far-fetched the first time I heard it — though I will admit that it did seem to be just within the realms of the remotely possible. But with every repetition it appears less and less so. For heaven's sake let's scrap it for the moment and try another.'

‘But I can't think of another,' complained Valerie plaintively. ‘I must say I'm inclined to agree with you. But if you can think up any reason why Rosamund would want to murder Ferrers, you're a better man than I am Gunga Din and you can darn well take over the prosecution yourself!'

Nick said irritably: ‘It's no earthly good asking me to supply reasons. Damn it all, Val, I've only been on this flaming island a little over a week, so it's hardly likely that I'd know much about the character and private lives of the local inhabitants. All I know is that this ring theory is so thin it's transparent!'

Copper turned swiftly to face him: ‘Is it?' she said tersely. ‘Then perhaps this may thicken it a bit. Do you remember the afternoon of the Mount Harriet picnic, just after lunch, when we four were in the lorry and someone came up and put a hand on the edge of it?'

‘What's that got to do with it?' inquired Charles impatiently: ‘Of course we remember. It was Ronnie, and
____
No, by God, it wasn't! It was Ferrers!'

Copper threw Nick a brief, triumphant glance and turned to Charles: ‘What made you so sure at first that it was Ronnie, Charles?'

Charles considered the question, wrinkling his nose thoughtfully. ‘Damned if I know,' he admitted. ‘But now that you come to mention it, I did think it was him, and I was surprised when it turned out to be Ferrers. I certainly can't remember noticing any ring, but that could have had something to do with my jumping to the conclusion that Passionate Purvis was in our midst.'

‘Of course it had,' said Copper. ‘Not many Englishmen wear rings, and the ones that do usually wear plain gold signet rings. But Ronnie wore a ring with a large red stone set in it, and so did Ferrers. And you are so used to seeing Ronnie's ring that your subconscious mind registered
Ronnie
when you saw a man's hand with a red ring on it. And don't tell me I'm wrong, because I know I'm not!'

‘Don't worry,' said Charles, ‘I lack the necessary nerve to contradict you. And I daresay you're right. In which case I suppose these series of ring-theories must remain on the books for the present; which appears to thicken the general fog to no ordinary extent.'

‘I don't see why it should,' said Valerie obstinately.

Charles moaned and closed his eyes: ‘
O Woman! in our hours of ease!
Listen, my love, think! — ponder! — consider for a brief moment! If we retain this ring business, it would appear that the whole island is swarming with people who were panting to massacre Ronnie, and that the elimination of the late unlamented Ferrers was due to a mere slip of the spanner. It seems to me to add endless vistas of sinister conjecture to a landscape already overstocked with sinister vistas.'

He drank deeply and subsided on to the sofa, and Valerie said: ‘Oh well, let's leave it for the moment and get on with the case against Rosamund. For the prosecution: she plays a good game of tennis and is the best swimmer in the Islands, bar none, so she could have coped with the problem of disposing of Ferrers's body without much difficulty. Then there was definitely something extremely queer behind that display of nerves on Christmas Eve. She was scared to death.'

‘She was,' agreed Nick. ‘And on thinking back on her behaviour that night, I would like to advance a theory of my own that could account for it. It seems to me just possible that she saw Ferrers die.'

‘But you
____
'

‘
Ssh!
— don't interrupt. Let us suppose, for the sake of argument, that she was holding on to the same boat as Ferrers, and saw just enough to realize that someone beyond him had deliberately cracked him over the head? If that were so, the chances are that she would have let go her hold in a panic, and swum around in the smother until forced to grab hold of a boat that she probably hoped was not the one she had originally been attached to. After that there'd have been no point in her saying anything. Unless she knew who had done the hitting, which is unlikely. I think it was Copper who remarked that same evening that Mrs Purvis appeared to be playing a peculiar game of
“Is it you? — Is it you? — Is it you?”
with herself. Which could support the theory that she was aware, even then, that Ferrers had not been drowned but murdered. It would also account for her subsequent behaviour.'

‘Um,'
said Valerie thoughtfully. ‘It does seem to fit. That is, if she didn't do the job herself and wasn't wondering who, if anyone, had seen her do it?'

‘For the defence,' said Copper, taking over: ‘she wasn't on the beach when Ferrers's body turned up, and neither was she at the Christmas Day dinner party. Therefore she couldn't have known of Dan's interest in the corpse.'

Valerie said: ‘Against that we have Amabel and Dutt and Ronnie and Truda. All, or any of them, could have told her something. And even if she hadn't heard any details, if she was the murderer she'd be scared to death at hearing that the corpse of her victim had turned up, and be pretty restless until the body was safely buried. She could easily have got out of the hospital that night, and perhaps gone to the Guest House to assure herself that the murder hadn't been discovered, and found Dan there.'

‘Hell!'
groaned Charles. ‘Then that's six of them who could have done it. Oh well, we might as well make a good job of it and prove that they all did it. Who's next for the electric chair?'

‘Nick,' said Valerie, and laughed. She appeared to be the only one amused. Charles was watching Nick over the rim of his glass, and Nick was watching Copper. Copper kept her eyes on the tips of her shoes and said nothing, and Valerie, suddenly aware of tension, looked up from her notebook and glanced from one to another of the three still faces. She opened her mouth, and then closed it again without speaking.

Nick said dryly: ‘Well, Copper?'

He saw Copper's fingers clench themselves together in her lap, but apart from that slight movement she might not have been aware that he had spoken.

‘Why this magnanimity, sweet? I can take it, we murderers are tough. Produce your evidence, Coppy. Even if Val and Charles don't see eye to eye with you about it, it's as good as that signet-ring stuff any day!'

Charles saw Copper's chin come up with a jerk, and rushed in where angels might justifiably have feared to tread: ‘Yes, come on young Sherlock. Spill the sinister beans and put us out of our misery. Then we can tear up all those appalling notes that Val has been preparing for the purpose of spreading confusion and despair, and fall on Nick in a body. I shall direct operations from behind the bookcase, and you and Val can do the actual arresting. After which we can bury him behind the squash court, and go off to dinner secure in the righteous conviction that we have faithfully administered the King's Justice.'

‘I haven't anything to say on Nick's behalf,' said Copper in a small cold voice. ‘Either for or against. To misquote him, “It takes a thief to —”' she checked a little ostentatiously. ‘— I mean, it takes a man to prosecute a man. You can take it over, Charles.'

For a brief moment the knuckles of Nick's hands showed white, and then he laughed and relaxed once more in his chair. Valerie gave Copper a puzzled look, and then turned back to Charles: ‘Last prisoner, darling. Take over the charge-sheet, and after that you can come up to the house and I'll make you a mint julep and hold your hand on the drawing-room sofa.'

‘A clear case of bribery and corruption,' sighed Charles. ‘But then I have always been a weak character. Oh, all right. Prisoner at the Bar, did you or did you not, on the afternoon of December the twenty-fourth, either of intent, or under the impression that you were slugging Mr Ronald Purvis, cause the decease of one Ferrers Shilto?'

‘Objection!' said Nick. ‘I appeal to the court. That's a leading question.'

Valerie said: ‘Objection sustained. Get on with it, Charles.'

‘All right — all right. Don't rush me! Case for the prosecution: that the said Nicholas Tarrent, being a member of the sailing party, had full and ample opportunity for slugging the said Ferrers Shilto. Moreover he possesses the physical ability, together with the necessary nerve, guts, brains and what-have-you, to carry out the task to a successful conclusion. Added to which is the damning fact that he shared a room with the second victim, and therefore would certainly have been aware of his suspicions regarding the corpse of the said Ferrers Shilto
____

‘In fact,' said Charles, reverting to plain English, ‘for all we know, Dan may have spilt the beans to him and told him that he proposed to have a look at the corpse. In which case he would have had plenty of time to plan the whole thing before leaving the house: murder of Dan, disposal of Ferrers, the entire works. I will even withdraw my previous assertion that the job couldn't have been carried out inside an hour and a half. Given quick thinking, it could probably have been done in that time and with a few minutes to spare.'

Nick said: ‘A bit more of this and I shall burst into tears and confess all. Go on, Charles. You're doing fine.'

‘Matter of fact,' confessed the counsel for the prosecution, ‘that about cleans me out of ideas. You see there's the small matter of motive. Just between the two of us and strictly in confidence, what
was
your motive?'

‘Objection!' murmured Nick.

‘Oh yes, of course. Leading question, an' all that. It's no good, Val, you'll have to enter “No Motive” on the prisoner's charge-sheet. And that, thank God, can go in reference to Ronnie as well as Ferrers, for if anyone had mentioned the word “ring” again I should have screamed aloud and burst a blood-vessel. You can put down that, as far as we know, the prisoner Tarrent had no quarrel and very small acquaintance with Mr Ronald Purvis. Was not sentimentally smitten by Mrs Ruby Stock, and had only laid eyes on Mr Ferrers Shilto a couple of hours or so before the murder. Otherwise all things are equal. Can I stop now?'

‘You can,' said Nick. ‘And I may say that my case in your hands, as compared with Copper's, is as a bucket of whitewash to a truck-load of coal.'

Charles hitched himself round in his chair and regarded Copper with interest. ‘You mean she's suppressing evidence, do you? Well, far be it from me to discourage her. In fact if anyone else has any more evidence against anyone, I'd be everlastingly grateful if they would tie a brick to it and drop it in the harbour. I have had just about as much of it as I can stand in one day, and my brain is reeling. It appears to have been conclusively proved that there are not one, but seven murderers or potential murderers loose upon Ross, and I shall therefore retire to bed tonight wearing a bullet-proof vest under my pyjamas and clutching a loaded shot-gun in either hand. Amateur detectives and intending sleepwalkers, please note!'

Valerie laughed, and turning in her chair slid a hand under his arm. ‘Thank God our late librarian didn't have a yen for Ethel M. Dell! I don't think I could have borne a stern, square-jawed hero in this situation. Thank you, darling. Your act has been terrific, and for about the first time in weeks I've really appreciated it.'

‘It was rather good, wasn't it?' agreed Charles complacently. ‘What the dramatic critics would have termed “a fine, sustained performance”.'

‘If you don't watch it,' observed Copper crisply, ‘you'll wake up one fine morning and find that you're talking like that naturally.'

‘But I am,' said Charles. ‘I do! I find it's a thing that grows on one — like boils. But not to worry. A good strong dose of Hemingway will eliminate the germs.'

‘Try Anouilh, darling,' advised Valerie. ‘And now listen — I'm going to read out everything I've written this afternoon, and after that I suggest we clear out and go for a quick walk round the island before it's dark. But before I start reading we'll have a five-minute silence during which I want everyone to go over as much as they can remember of the last two days, starting with the Mount Harriet picnic. And if they can think of any incident, however tiny, that strikes them as odd or unusual, to produce it for inspection. Ready?'

BOOK: Death in the Andamans
5.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Highland Conqueror by Hannah Howell
A Christmas Guest by Anne Perry
Into the Storm by Melanie Moreland
Christmas Three by Rose, Dahlia
The Privilege of the Sword by Kushner, Ellen
Dirty Little Lies by James, Clare
Hard Place by Douglas Stewart