Death of a Commuter (23 page)

“But what did he know? And which of the five men was concerned? And how concerned—directly or indirectly? This I decided to discover, and I set out in my own way, listening to a good deal of idle chatter and irrelevant information in order to do so.”

“A moment!” said Mr. Gorringer. “How did you identify this man?” Carolus smiled.

“The police were good enough to do that for me. I had the number of the motor-cycle he had left in the station car park that morning and I faked a small accident to my car, reporting his as the other party. They discovered the owner and his address.
I shall really have to apologise to Sergeant Beckett but there was no other way of learning the facts quickly.”

The faces of Hemingway and Haggard remained unmoved.

“From this point, and for a long time, I was reduced to guesswork. I was faced with a number of questions, some of which were unanswerable, and yet I believed that some theory existed which would make sense of
all
of them. If Catford knew something important enough to enable him to attempt such a barefaced piece of blackmail it could only be one thing—the fact that Parador had not died by his own hand. Yet how else? Who could possibly be responsible? For what motive? I tried all manner of combinations, but nothing seemed to fit. Until, on a certain occasion I will describe to you, I heard one sentence of nine words which satisfied me that one of the possibilities I had seen was not a possibility at all but a certainty. Thereafter everything fitted into the pattern and I knew the truth.

“I must start with a love-story. Two years ago James Rumble lost his wife and, a lonely and introspective man, he fell desperately in love with Elspeth Parador. I have seen them together and apart and I have no hesitation in saying that this was more than sincere love, it was blind, agonising, ruthless, the love of Abelard and Heloise, if you like, or if you are more cynical, of Thompson and Bywaters. For a long time it was secret, but secrecy only added to its intensity. The two had to see one another occasionally and their method of covering up on this was for Elspeth to appear to be equally friendly with several men in the place, entertain them and talk about them to Felix, the principle of safety in numbers. Boggett told me of these, Hopelady, Thriver, the younger Limpole. Even to Boggett's crafty and observant eye, James Rumble was only one of the men who occasionally came to the Old Manor. For over a year Elspeth and Rumble—I can only use the common but pregnant expression—were madly in love.”

What proof have you of this?” asked Haggard impatiently.

“Only my own observation and instincts—and the events which followed.”

“But let us cry halt for a moment,” said Mr. Gorringer to
smooth over this awkward moment “It is the custom of those privileged to hear Deene's lucid expositions to give him a moment's respite
de temps en temps
while we refresh ourselves.”

“I've heard no lucid explanations yet,” grumbled Haggard. “Only an admission of having brought a false charge against a motor-cyclist and a lot about love based on personal instinct. What I want to know …”

“What you want to know, you
will
know; rest assured of that my dear sir, and in the meantime let me fill your glass.”

Carolus, looking rather seedy and troubled, said nothing while the headmaster was busy. Then he went on.

“Elspeth was so taken up with James Rumble and the difficulties of keeping the secret of their love in a place hungry for gossip, that she did not even know her husband was keeping Henrietta Ballard and going to Buttsfield to see her. Yet she had been fond of Felix and perhaps in her way was fond of him still. Love like that obsessive and aching, can blind people to everything else. She was actress enough to follow her usual life so far as others could see, even so far as Felix could see.

“But this could not continue. As time passed she and James Rumble imagined for themselves a sort of paradise, somewhere abroad, perhaps in Spain, where they could be together for the rest of their lives. At first perhaps, they thought of it as ‘one day', meaning after Felix's death, for Felix was a considerably older man and believed at one time that he had cancer. At first it was as harmless as that—the Great Possibility in the future. But months passed and Dr. Sporlott decided that there was no sign of cancer and at last, in desperation, they began testing each other by allusions and suggestions. ‘One day' became ‘if anything were to happen to Felix'. Finally they decided to kill him.”

“Good gracious me!” said Mr. Gorringer.

“Once they had admitted to one another that this was their intention, they began to plan how it could be done without the slightest risk to themselves. They were not going to have their paradise snatched away by years of imprisonment for murder. And they nearly succeeded. So nearly that even now one of them, at least may escape the consequences.

“The plan was to give Felix an overdose of sleeping pills disguised as something else, then make it appear that he had committed suicide. They took their time. First they had to obtain a powerful antibiotic, and decided on Opilactic. Elspeth suggested a holiday in Tangier where, she must have known, chemists sell this and other drugs without insisting on a doctor's prescription. She may have obtained the information from Scotter; if so, it was with great subtlety and she certainly would not have got the tablets from him. What she may have bought, some considerable time ago—and this the police will doubtless ascertain if they think it necessary—is something sold in those little capsules made of rice-paper in which a sufficient dose of Opilactic, pounded in a mortar, could be inserted. This is, of course, only a guess, but Felix was a man who took medicines easily.

“There were other preparations to make. Rumble was aware that Bert Holey who kept the local filling-station was in the habit of noticing the mileage and petrol level of his clients' cars, and not wishing this observation to be made of his, picked a quarrel with Holey and filled his car elsewhere. They also saw less of one another, so that Elspeth in introducing Rumble to me was able to say that they ‘scarcely knew each other' before Felix's death without fear that she would be contradicted, and Rumble could say ‘it's only since this happened I've been seeing much of Elspeth'.

“I think they fixed the time by a certain eventuality. Felix occasionally drove over to see Dr. Kumar Shant in Buttsfield, and the doctor would give him a prescription which Elspeth would take to Scotter next day. Felix would then be expecting to take medicine when he came down in the evening and Elspeth could give him the capsule or capsules full of Opilactic without arousing his suspicion. It was unlikely that this
would
be aroused since he trusted Elspeth, but they had to think of every possible eventuality. The only risk she ran now was that Felix might grumble at the size of the capsule and decide to ring up Dr. Kumar Shant before taking it But it was a small risk. As I knew from Magnus Parador, one of Felix's little meannesses was
over the telephone. He hated making unnecessary calls and would swallow the capsules without question.

“Yes. They nearly brought it off. And as usual it was chance that defeated them. For how were they to know that on the day they had chosen, the very day on which Elspeth had taken Kumar Shant's prescription to Scotter, Felix Parador would call at his lawyer's to sign a new will? And how were they to know of George Catford and his habit of motor-cycling to lonely places to indulge in megalomaniac dreams?”

Mrs. Stick, who must have been waiting at the door for a pause in Carolus's narrative, entered.

“What about dinner?” she asked firmly. “
They've
all gone to the pictures and I've got yours ready.”

She gave a hostile look at the rest of the assembly.

“There are four of us, Mrs. Stick.”

“Yes, I know there are but there's not enough, I'm afraid.” This was so unlike Mrs. Stick that it could only be explained by her hostility to the police.

Hemingway and Haggard both made protestations. Carolus was not to bother about them.

“What about some sandwiches, Mrs. Stick? We can eat them while we are talking.”

Knowing that her disapproval of policemen as visitors was only slightly less than her horror of ‘murderers', Carolus feared this might bring another outbreak from Mrs. Stick. But her pride as a caterer was too strong for her.

“I might manage a few sandwiches,” she admitted, “but you'll have to wait some time because there's nothing ready and Stick's gone to the pictures with the rest of them. I don't know what's come over him. I really don't. He usually won't leave the telly. Well, I'll see what I can do.”

She left them and Mr. Gorringer shook his head.

“You are fortunate indeed, my dear Deene. The help we are able to get at the School House is meagre. Meagre in the extreme.”

Haggard coughed and looked at his watch, but Hemingway said, “It's very kind of you to be so hospitable, Mr. Deene. But
you will understand we have to get back to Brenstead. I'm not denying that what you are telling us may turn out to be useful, but…”

“Detective-Inspector, relax!” commanded Mr. Gorringer.

“That's all very well,” said Haggard. “But we happen to be on duty.”

“Ah! Magic word! But I assure you Deene will reach the end of his peroration in his own good time.”

Carolus, as though he had not heard this altercation, continued quietly.

“Yes, Felix Parador went to Thriver's office in the City that afternoon to sign a new will. Only three people were aware of it, Parador himself, Thriver, and Thriver's confidential clerk, all men accustomed to keeping secrets. There was good reason for secrecy in this case for Parador had arranged to leave a thousand pounds a year for life to his mistress, Henrietta Ballard. He was also cutting out two minor beneficiaries for reasons which seemed to him adequate, Dr. Sporlott for what he considered a breach of confidence, and Hopelady for a practical joke which had shown him at a disadvantage. These are not things which would make many men change their wills, but Parador was in some ways unusual and had had an unusual life. According to his own sense of justice (or was it humour?) he was fair to his godson who would lose nothing, in fact probably gain by the change.

“Thriver told me that he was quite himself, quite cheerful that afternoon and a boy in his own office remembered and told the Coroner of how he had fooled about with a hat too small for him. He came down in the train, gave Bill Flood the same impression as he gave Thriver, then set off in his car. From that time to the next morning at ten when a policeman found his dead body in his own car in the parking place of the Great Ring, nothing positive is known of his movements.

“But there was one fact which I found very helpful. His car, when it was driven back to Brenstead after his death, registered, according to Bert Holey, only twenty miles more on the speedometer. This was the distance to the Great Ring and back.
Wherever he was between the arrival of his train at Brenstead and the arrival of his car at the Great Ring, he was not driving about the countryside.

“But we know where he was. From the station he drove, as he did every evening, to his home. Among the plans made by Elspeth and Rumble was one—I think ill-advised from their point of view—that Elspeth should say she had received a call from Felix to say he was not coming down that night. The idea was to account for her not being anxious when he—according to the account she would give—did not appear. But there is nothing but Elspeth's word for this call and no reason to think it was ever made. Felix arrived home, was welcomed by Elspeth and, according to his custom as told me by Magnus, probably had a couple of stiff whiskies which would make deadlier and quicker the effect of the Opilactic.

“Everything, on the surface, was as usual. Then probably Elspeth said, ‘By the way I got your pills from Scotter today. You have to take two this evening'. Felix may have said, ‘What pills? ‘, and she, ‘The ones Dr. Kumar Shant ordered for you'. And Felix swallowed the capsule, or two capsules if that was necessary. I don't know how long after that he died but I have no doubt experts could tell to within half an hour. I don't think it's very important, anyway.”

Haggard could scarcely restrain himself.

“But what proof have you of all this?”

Carolus smiled rather sadly.

“I'm afraid I'm telling it rather as I see it. Novelist fashion. But I
do
know that he went to his home and that only later was he taken out to the Great Ring. I think I shall be able to convince you of that in a moment, if you'll let me go on in my own way.”

“I'm bound to confess,” boomed Mr. Gorringer, “that you seem to be taking a great deal on yourself, Deene, by so positively accusing a woman of high repute. Did you yourself find her so base?”

“I found her charming. But then she had been an actress. Ah, here is Mrs. Stick with our sandwiches.”

“Just a minute, sir; there's another tray to come. These are the smoked salmon and there's some caviar there by the headmaster. I've left the foy grass whole on the ice so you can help yourselves. I didn't know what you'd like to drink so I've had this couple of bottles of Rosy on the ice for you.”

“Kingly providence!” said Mr. Gorringer. “Mrs. Stick, you excel yourself.”

“I did what I could in the time,” said Mrs. Stick modestly. “I thought if you must talk about murders and that you might as well have something to do it on.”

“You are not interested?” asked Mr. Gorringer with his mouth full.

“I don't want to hear of such things,” said Mrs. Stick. “I've had quite enough of it as it is. You'll ring if you want anything else, sir?”

Carolus nodded and ate and drank in a preoccupied way. Then almost before they had finished eating, he went on.

“Elspeth Parador was an astonishing woman as I had reason to know later. She coolly waited until her husband was dead then telephoned to Rumble to come at once, according to plan. At a certain time that night, which you gentlemen will be able to establish for yourselves, the two of them took the body of Felix out to the yard at the back. They may have prepared a stretcher for this—I don't know. They put him in the seat next to the driver's in his own car which one of them drove, while the other followed in Rumble's. I rather think, because it fits in with my conception of her character, that it was Elspeth who drove the dead man.