Death in the Stocks (22 page)

'Well, I have thought! And I want to know whether Tony really was with Mr Carrington till midnight. You needn't tell me that Murgatroyd saw him bring her back here: Murgatroyd would say anything. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me at all to discover that she had a great deal more to do with both these murders than we've any idea of!'

'One moment, Miss Williams,' said Giles. 'You are forgetting my evidence, aren't you?'

'No, Mr Carrington, I'm not. But it's quite obvious that you'd say or do anything to shield Tony. I'm sorry if you're offended, but I can't and I won't stand by and see Kenneth taken to prison for want of a little plain speaking!'

At this point Hannasyde interposed by asking Kenneth if he was ready to go with him.

'No,' said Kenneth. 'I'm not. I want a word in private with my cousin.'

'Certainly,' Hannasyde replied.

'Come to my room, will you?' Kenneth said to Giles.

'I've no intention of running away, Superintendent, so you needn't worry.'

Giles followed him out of the studio and across the little hall to his bedroom. He shut the door and watched Kenneth sit down on the end of his bed. Kenneth had a taut look about him, and when he spoke it was a little jerkily.

'Go on! You're my solicitor. What do I do now?'

'Keep your mouth shut,' answered Giles without hesitation. 'Were you at Roger's flat last night, or were you not?'

A faint smile flickered in Kenneth's eyes. 'Wouldn't you like to know?'

'If I don't know, I tell you in all seriousness, Kenneth, I won't touch your case.'

Kenneth shrugged. 'I haven't needed you so far, but it looks as though I may. I was in Roger's flat.'

'At what hour?'

'Precisely the hour specified by our clever detective.'

'What did you go there for, Kenneth?'

'Private affairs.'

'Luckily I can interpret that,' said Giles. 'You went to see if Violet Williams was there, didn't you?'

Kenneth flushed. 'What a lively imagination you have!'

'Was she there?'

'She was not.'

'Quite sure of that?'

'Quite.'

'Your error, in fact.'

Kenneth burst out laughing. 'Yes, blast you! My error.'

'Why did you think she was, Kenneth?'

'My unfortunate temperament,' said Kenneth lightly.

'I thought that might have been the reason she turned me down at the last minute over that ball. So I went to see for myself. She wasn't there, and hadn't been.'

'Did you part with Roger on good terms?'

'No, not at all.'

Giles sighed. 'Why not? What was there to quarrel over if Violet hadn't been there?'

'I could always find something to quarrel over with Roger,' replied Kenneth. 'In this case it was his Advice to a Young Man about to marry. But I didn't kill him.'

'All right, leave it at that. Does Violet know?'

'What, that I went to the flat in search of her? You bet she knows! Haven't you noticed the air of outraged virtue? If I have the least regard for her feelings or my own dignity, I shall keep my disgraceful conduct to myself. How long am I likely to be in jug?'

'I hope not more than a day or two. Don't annoy the police more than you can help.'

'The temptation,' said Kenneth, getting up and opening the door, 'is pretty well irresistible!'

Hannasyde was waiting for him in the hall, and at the sight of him Kenneth's eyes gleamed. 'Hush! Not a word!' he said. 'This is where I fade out, skipping the leavetakings. On your way, my friend-the-Superintendent!'

Hannasyde, propelled towards the front door by an insistent hand on his elbow, looked back to say: 'I'll send a man round to fetch what Mr Vereker needs. Would you ask Miss Vereker to pack a suit-case, Mr Carrington?'

'Tell her to shove my sketching-block in, and the usual appurtenances,' ordered Kenneth. 'I'm going to do a series of black-and-white policemen. After you - Macduff!'

Giles went back into the studio. Violet was standing by the fireplace, her lips still tightly compressed, and a look in her face more of exasperation than concern. Leslie had put on her hat, and seemed to be on the point of departure. Antonia was lighting a cigarette from the stub of her old one. They all three looked towards the door as Giles entered, but it was Violet who spoke. 'Well?' she said. 'Where's Kenneth?'

'Gone,' replied Giles unemotionally.

'Gone!' exclaimed Antonia. 'I quite thought you'd be able to think of something, Giles. Couldn't you get him out of it?'

'Not yet, Tony. Don't worry; he'll be all right.'

'I think,' said Violet, in a voice of still anger, 'that this is the last straw!'

'Oh, damn you, shut up!' snapped Antonia. 'How could he help going?'

Violet spoke with meticulous politeness. 'Will you please not swear at me? I am quite aware that he had to go, but I don't in the least understand why he could not take the trouble to say good-bye. It is a piece of rudeness which -'

'If you don't hold your tongue there will be a third murder,' said Leslie, with deadly calm. 'You've said more than enough already. In fact, there's only one thing you forgot; why didn't you advise the Superintendent to inquire into my movements last night?'

'I am quite sure that he had done so, dear,' replied Violet sweetly. 'Not that I think you did the murder, for, after all, what motive could you have?'

'If it comes to that, what motive could Tony have had? She doesn't inherit.'

'Not while Kenneth is alive,' agreed Violet, with meaning.

Antonia, not in the least indignant at this remark, frowned thoughtfully. 'Well, I don't know,' she said. 'I should have to be pretty hard-boiled to commit three murders. It would be dam' silly too, because I'd be bound to get caught out.'

'It seems to me that anyone of normal intelligence can get away with murder,' said Violet scornfully. 'What have the police done over this case? Absolutely nothing! They've no idea who murdered Arnold Vereker, and the best they can think of to do now is to arrest Kenneth.

Utterly obvious, and utterly brainless.' She bent and picked up her gloves and handbag from the chair where she had left them, and began to draw on her gloves, working her fingers into them. 'There's no point in my staying,' she said. 'If Mr Carrington can't help Kenneth, I am sure I can't.'

Giles made no reply to this, but when the gloves were at last on, he moved in his leisurely way towards the door, and opened it for Violet to pass out.

'Well, Tony,' she said, tucking her bag under her arm, 'if I've said anything I shouldn't, I'm sorry, but this thing is getting absolutely on my nerves. You had better come along, too, Leslie; Tony wants to talk to her cousin.'

Leslie said stiffly: 'Of course. But please don't wait for me. I'm not going your way.'

'Oh, just as you like, my dear,' Violet replied, shrugging. She walked to the door, but paused there as a thought occurred to her. 'I don't know if you've any of you realised it, but there's one person we've left out of our calculations. Where was Mr Mesurier last night?'

'Old Boy's Dinner,' said Antonia briefly.

'Really? But it wouldn't have been impossible for him to have left early, I suppose.'

'I do wish you'd stop making fatuous suggestions,' Antonia sighed. 'What on earth should induce Rudolph to murder Roger?'

'You needn't be so high-and-mighty, my dear. I can think of one very good reason. We all know that he said he meant to murder Arnold Vereker because of his - well, really, I must call it pilfering. Now, if Roger knew about that, and meant to prosecute -'

'You're missing on all your cylinders,' interrupted Antonia 'Roger knew, and he told Rudolph he wouldn't do anything about it. And if you don't believe me, I wrote a letter to Roger, thanking him. Can't you think of somebody else to suspect?'

Violet gave a little laugh. 'Oh, nothing I say will meet with approval in this house! I'm well aware of that! Goodbye, Mr Carrington. No, please don't bother to see me out. I know my way.'

'Of course, she just had to say, 'I know my way,'' commented Antonia gloomily, as Giles, disregarding her request, went with Violet to the front door. 'I used to collect her clichés at first, but it got so boring I gave it up. This is a most sanguinary affair, Leslie.'

'I know,' said Leslie. 'Only don't worry, old thing. I'm absolutely sure Kenneth didn't do it, and they practically never convict the wrong person. If there's the least doubt -'

'They give them penal servitude,' said Antonia in a hollow voice. 'You needn't tell me. And he'd rather be hanged than that.'

Leslie patted her shoulder, and said with a gulp: 'They won't. I - I'm certain they won't.' Then, as Giles came back into the room, she said: 'If that sickening female has gone I'll push off too. Mr Carrington, you'll look after Tony, won't you, and try and cheer her up? Goodbye, Tony, darling. I'll come round first thing in the morning. Good-bye, Mr Carrington.'

The door closed firmly behind her. Antonia was left alone with her cousin. She said forlornly: 'You needn't be afraid I'm going to cry, because I'm not.'

He sat down beside her. 'There's nothing to cry about, chicken,' he said.

She turned a rather warn face towards him. 'Oh, Giles, I have such a ghastly fear that he may have done it after all!'

'Have you, Tony? Would you like to bet on it?' he asked, smiling.

Her eyes questioned him. 'You don't think he did?'

'I'm very nearly certain he didn't,' replied Giles Carrington.

Chapter Twenty-two

This pronouncement did not have quite the desired effect, for after staring at Giles blankly for a moment or two Antonia tried to smile, failed, and felt a choking lump rise in her throat. Giles saw her face begin to pucker, and promptly took her in his arms. 'Don't cry, Tony darling!' he said gently. 'It's going to be all right.'

Antonia hid her face in his shoulder, and gave way to her over-wrought feelings. However, she was not one to indulge in an orgy of tears, and she soon stopped crying, and after one or two damp sniffs, sat up, and said shamefacedly: 'Sorry. I'm all right now. Thanks for being nice about it.'

Giles drew his handkerchief out of his pocket, and compelled Antonia to turn her face towards him. He looked down at her lovingly, and said: 'I won't kiss a wet face. Keep still, my lamb.'

Antonia submitted to having her tears wiped away, but stammered, rather red in the face,' D- don't talk rot, Giles!'

'I'm not talking rot,' he replied and took her in his arms again, this time not gently at all, and kissed her hard and long.

Antonia, unable to utter any protest, made one feeble attempt to push him away, and then, finding it impossible, grasped his coat with both hands and clung to him. When she was able to speak she first said, foolishly: 'Oh, Giles!' and then: 'I can't! I mean, you don't really — I mean, we couldn't possibly — I mean —'

'You don't seem to me to know what you mean,' said Giles, smiling into her eyes. 'Luckily, I do know what I mean.' He possessed himself of her left hand, and drew the ring from her third finger, and put it into her palm, closing her fingers over it. 'You'll send that back to Mesurier tonight, Tony. Is that quite clearly understood?'

'I was going to, anyhow,' said Antonia. 'But - but if you actually mean you want to m-marry me instead, I can't see how you can possibly want to.'

'I do actually mean that,' said Giles. Just as soon as I've finished with this affair of Kenneth's.'

'But I can't think Uncle Charles would like it if you did,' objected Antonia.

'You'll find he's bearing up quite well,' replied Giles. 'Will you marry me, Tony?'

She looked anxiously at him. 'Are you utterly serious, Giles?' He nodded. 'Because you know what a beast I can be, and it would be so awful if - if you were only proposing to me in a weak moment, and - and I accepted you, and then you regretted it.'

'I'll tell you a secret,' he said. 'I love you.'

Antonia suddenly dragged one of his hands to her check. 'Oh, darling. Giles, I've only just realised it, but I've been in love with you for years and years and years!' she blurted out.

It was at this somewhat inopportune moment that Rudolph Mesurier burst hurriedly into the studio. 'I came as soon as I possibly could!' he began, and then checked, and exclaimed in an outraged voice: 'Well, really! I must say!'

Antonia, quite unabashed, went, as usual, straight to the point. She got up, and held out the ring. 'You're just the person I wanted to see,' she said naively. 'Giles says I must give this back to you. I'm terribly sorry, Rudolph, but - but Giles wants me to marry him. And he knows me awfully well, and we get on together, so - so I think I'd better, if you don't mind very much.'

Mesurier's expression was more of astonishment than of chagrin, but he said in a dramatic voice: 'I might have known. I might have known I was living in a fool's paradise.'

'Well, it's jolly nice of you to put it like that,' said Antonia, 'but did you really think it was paradise? I rather got the idea that most of the time you thought it pretty hellish. I don't blame you a bit if you did, because as a matter of fact I thought it was fairly hellish myself.'

This frank admission threw Rudolph momentarily out of his stride, but after a few seconds' pained discomfiture, he said with a good deal of bitterness: 'I can't grasp it yet. I expect I shall presently. Just now I feel merely numb. I don't seem able to realise that everything is over.'

'You can't really think that everything's over merely because we're not going to be married,' said Antonia reasonably. 'I expect you only feel numb because I took you by surprise. You'll be quite thankful when you do realise it. For one thing you won't have to have bullterriers in your house, and you know you never really liked them.'

'Is that all you can say?' he demanded. 'Is that the only crumb of comfort you can find?'

It was apparent to tiles that Mesurier was enjoying himself considerably. He rose, feeling that the jilted lover did at least deserve to hold the stage alone for the last time. 'I'm sorry about it, Mesurier,' he said pleasantly. 'But Tony made a mistake. I expect you'd like to have a little talk with her. I'll go and get Murgatroyd to help me pack Kenneth's suit-case, Tony.'

Mesurier was so much interested in this that he forgot his role for a minute. 'Why, what's happened? Is Kenneth going away?'

'He's gone,' said Antonia, recalled to present trials with a jolt. 'He's being detained, whatever that means.'

'My God!' said Mesurier deeply.

tiles went out of the studio, and shut the door behind him.

Twenty minutes later Antonia joined him in Kenneth's bedroom, remarking with a sigh of relief that Rudolph had gone at last.

'And a good job too!' said Murgatroyd, fitting a bulging sponge-bag into the suit-case that lay, half-full, on the end of the bed. 'If it weren't for this dreadful thing that's happened I should be congratulating you from the bottom of my heart, Miss Tony, but when I think of poor Master Kenneth, locked up in a horrid cell with ten to one no proper bed or anything - well, it's just too much for me! I can't seem to take much notice of anything else. Not that shirt, if you please, Mr Carrington; it's only just back from the laundry.'

'Giles says he doesn't think Kenneth did it,' said Antonia.

'Thank you for nothing!' retorted Murgatroyd. 'He'd better not let me hear him say anything else, that's all. Him or anyone. There's a case for those brushes, Mr Giles. You leave them to me.'

Antonia picked up a folding leather photograph frame from the bed and grimaced at Violet's classic features. 'What on earth do you want to put this in for, Giles?' she inquired. 'Just when he seems to be going off her, too. He won't want it.'

'You never know,' Giles answered. 'Put it in.'

The rest of the packing was soon done, and in a few minutes Giles had locked the suit-case, and set it on the ground. 'I shall have to go, Tony,' he said. 'Promise me you won't worry!'

'I'll try not to,' said Antonia dubiously. 'What are you going to do?'

'Save some constable or other the trouble of having to fetch Kenneth's things,' he replied.

She raised her eyes to his face. 'Shall I see you tomorrow?'

He hesitated. 'I'm not sure. I think probably not until late, if at all,' he answered. 'I'm going to be pretty busy.'

'Busy for Kenneth?' she asked quickly.

'Yes, busy for Kenneth.' He took her hands, and held them clasped together against his chest. 'Keep smiling, chicken. Things aren't desperate.'

'You've found out something!' sic said. 'Oh, what is it, Giles?'

'No, I haven't,' he said. 'That's what I hope to do! At present I've only got a suspicion. I'm not going to tell you any more in case I'm wrong. But I do tell you not to worry.'

'All right,' she said. 'If you say I needn't I won't.'

It was past six o'clock when Giles Carrington left the studio. He delivered the suitcase first, and then, after a glance at his wrist-watch, drove to the Temple, and changed into evening dress. His subsequent proceedings might not have seemed to Antonia to be the actions of a man trying to aid her brother. He visited three cocktail bars, four hotels, one night-club, and two dance-halls. He partook of refreshment in all of these resorts, and engaged various head-waiters, assistant-waiters, hallporters, and page-boys in conversations which they at least found profitable. He reached his flat again in the small hours, swallowed a couple of aspirin tablets in the hope of defeating the inevitable headache, and got thankfully into bed.

In the morning, when his man brought in the early tea-tray, he awoke with a good deal of reluctance, and said: 'Oh, God! Not tea. One of your pick-me-ups. And turn on my bath.'

'Yes, sir,' said his man, thinking it was funny of Mr Carrington to go out on the binge when his family was in such a packet of trouble.

A bath, followed by an excellent pick-me-up, more or less restored Giles. He was able to face the task of shaving, and even, when that was over, to partake of a very modest breakfast. While he sipped a cup of strong coffee, he told his man to put through a call to Scotland Yard, and to ask for Superintendent Hannasyde.

Superintendent Hannasyde, however, was not in the building, and an inquiry for Sergeant Hemingway was equally fruitless. The voice at the other end of the telephone was polite but unhelpful, and after a moment's reflection Giles thanked the unknown, said that it didn't matter, and rang off. His next call was to his own office, and his man, hovering discreetly in the background, had his curiosity whetted by hearing that Mr Carrington was to be told that Mr Giles Carrington had important business out of town, and would not be at the office that day. It was certainly a queer set-out, and what Mr Giles Carrington thought he was playing at heaven alone knew.

At half-past five in the afternoon Giles walked into Scotland Yard and once more asked for Superintendent Hannasyde. This time he was more fortunate; the Superintendent had come in not half an hour earlier. He was with the Assistant Commissioner at the moment, but if Mr Carrington would care to wait? Mr Carrington nodded, and sat down to wait for twenty minutes. At the end of that time he was escorted to Hannasyde's office, and found Hannasyde standing by his desk, a sheaf of papers in his hand.

Hannasyde looked up: 'Good-afternoon, Mr Carrington. I'm sorry I was out when you rang up this morning. I've had rather a busy day.' He looked more narrowly at Giles, and said: 'Sit down. You look as though you'd been having a busy day too.'

'I have,' said Giles, sinking into a chair. 'And a still busier night. What I want to know is, did your men find anything that had any possible bearing on the case when they searched Roger Vereker's flat yesterday?'

Hannasyde shook his head. 'No, nothing. Was that what you wanted me for this morning?'

'Partly that, and partly to let you know what I'd been doing.' He moved rather restlessly in his chair, frowning. 'I want to see that night-porter, by the way. I wish I'd been present when the flat was searched.'

Hannasyde regarded him with some slight show of amusement. 'My dear Mr Carrington, there was nothing there other than what we saw.'

'Kenneth's pipe? Oh, that's not it! Kenneth had nothing to do with either murder. I wanted you to come and piece out the first murder with me today, but when I couldn't get hold of you I thought I'd better do it myself rather than hang about perhaps for hours.'

Hannasyde stared at him in astonishment for a moment, and then drew out his chair from behind the desk, and sat down in it. 'Forgive me, Mr Carrington, but have you been drinking, or are you just having a little joke with me?' he inquired.

A rather weary smile touched Giles's lips. 'To be frank with you, I've been drinking,' he answered. 'Not quite lately, but last night, from seven o'clock onwards. I had to be so tactful, you see - pursuing what might have turned out to be a wild and scandalous goose-chase.'

'Mr Carrington, what have you got hold off .'demanded Hannasyde.

'Arnold Vereker's murderer, I hope.'

'Arnold Vereker's murderer?' exclaimed Hannasyde. 'Roper's too. But if there was no clue of any kind in the flat—'

Hannasyde drew in his breath. 'What there was you saw, Mr Carrington,' he said patiently. 'You saw the pipe, the pistol, the half-finished letter in the blotter, the glass of whisky-and-soda, and the note from - no, you didn't see that, now I come to think of it. Hemingway found it after you'd left. But it hasn't any bearing on the case that I can see. It was only a note from Miss Vereker, thanking her half-brother for -' He broke off, for Giles Carrington's sleepy eyes had opened suddenly.