Ne'er Do Well (8 page)

“At precisely twelve o'clock I knocked on the door of the Mother Superior's room. Sister Helena opened the door and ushered me in. I bowed to them both. Then I produced the statement.

“‘With your permission, Madam, Sister Helena will read this through and say if there is anything in it to which she cannot subscribe. If there is, it will be altered at once. And then, if you please, I should like you to read it yourself.'

“‘Very well.'

“There were one or two slight corrections, but nothing of any account. When these had been made, I gave it to the Mother Superior. She perused it with a slight frown. Then she addressed Sister Helena. ‘When you looked in at three o'clock, you saw nothing amiss?' ‘Nothing,
ma mère
.' Then she addressed herself to me.

“‘You will understand, Superintendent, that Lord St Amant was never seriously ill. The sister was, therefore, more concerned not to rouse him than she was to observe his condition. Had he been seriously ill, the reverse would have been the case.'

“‘I quite understand, Madam.'

“She handed the statement back.

“‘Have you any more questions to put to Sister Helena?'

“‘A few, if you please.'

“‘Very well.'

“‘Tell me, Sister Helena, have you any tablets at all, except japonica?'

“‘No. When we had tried japonica, the others were all withdrawn.'

“‘You use japonica at your discretion.'

“‘Not altogether. I'm allowed to give two or three, as I see fit. But not more than three in two hours.'

“‘Did you give them to other patients?'

“‘Oh, yes.'

“‘Who did you give them to?'

“‘Mr Dallas and Mr Berryman. Both have pain.'

“‘Do you wait for them to ask?'

“‘No. I always put two by their side, when I say goodnight. If they want any more in the night, they let me know.'

“‘You place them in the bowl of a spoon?'

“‘Yes.'

“‘What about injections?'

“‘I only give them by order.'

“‘Had any been ordered that night?'

“‘No.'

“‘Have you
ampoules
at your disposal?'

“‘Only penicillin. That is kept in the refrigerator.'

“‘Did you look into all the rooms about three o'clock?'

“‘Yes.'

“‘Did you go into any room?'

“‘I passed through Sir Arthur Brake's – that's Number Two.'

“‘I take it that he's the patient that sleeps so sound.'

“‘Yes.'

“‘Did you go into any other?'

“‘Only Number One. That's Admiral Lacey's room.'

“‘I understand that he's very ill.'

“‘Yes. That was why I went in.'

“‘To have, shall we say, a close-up?'

“‘Yes.'

“‘What about Number Three?'

“‘He's being specially nursed. I just showed myself to the Sister, in case she wanted me.'

“‘Not counting Number Two, through which you passed, you only went into one?'

“‘Yes.'

“‘So far as you could see, were the other patients asleep?'

“‘Yes.'

“‘How long did that round take you on Tuesday night?'

“‘I should say about a quarter of an hour.'

“‘Did you start at three o'clock?'

“‘No. About five minutes to.'

“‘Thank you.'

“I looked at the Mother Superior.

“‘The Inquest, madam, will be held tomorrow at two o'clock. I shall not be called, but I shall be there. Entirely between us three, I have seen the Coroner and he has expressed his intention of showing the utmost consideration to any Sister called. I have also seen the Press, and I've done my best with them. I have some influence there, because they find it pays to keep in with me. If they do as I ask, I'm more inclined to talk.

“‘I should like to call for Sister Helena at half past one. I expect both you and she would like another Sister to go with her. I'm going to try to arrange to bring them into the court by a private way.'

“‘Thank you,' said the Mother Superior. ‘The two will be ready and waiting tomorrow at half past one. Have you any more questions to ask Sister Helena?'

“‘No more questions for the moment, but I have a request to make.'

“‘Yes.'

“‘Madam, the thing is this. On the table beside the bed were a glass and a spoon. These are being tested for fingerprints. Two sets of prints will, I imagine, be found – on the glass at any rate. One will be those of Sister Helena. But I cannot be sure that they are her fingerprints, unless she allows me to take an impression of hers. And I must know whose they are.

“‘If she will allow me to take it, the moment the prints have been checked she shall have the impression back.'

“The Mother Superior turned to Sister Helena.

“‘Have you any objection?'

“‘None at all,
ma mère
.'

“The Mother Superior returned to me.

“‘Can you take them here, Superintendent?'

“‘At once, if you please.'

“It was done in a minute, of course: but I did hate doing it so to Sister Helena. We very often obtain them by means of a trick. But I couldn't treat her like that. I had to ask straight out.

“When it was over–

“‘Thank you very much,' I said.

“‘Anything else, Superintendent?'

“‘No, madam.'

“‘Very well. You may leave us, Sister Helena.'

“I opened the door, and the Sister bowed and withdrew.

“As I closed it behind her –

“‘I understand, Superintendent, that you have been told the name which Sister Helena used to bear.'

“‘I have, madam. That was something which it was right I should know.'

“‘It must not be divulged in Court.'

“‘It will not be divulged, madam.'

“‘Is that your doing?'

“‘Yes.'

“‘What about photographs?'

“‘I've done my utmost, madam. I hope that none will be taken. I daren't put it higher than that.'

“‘Very well. Is there anything else?'

“‘By your leave, madam, I should like to see the night-sister of Number Three.'

“‘Why do you wish to see her?'

“‘Because she was on duty all night in the room which is next to the room in which Lord St Amant died.'

“‘Four sisters share the duty in this particular case. Of course they do other work: but six hours on end in that room is long enough. One comes on at eight in the morning, another at two: another at eight in the evening and another again at two.'

“‘I should like to see the two who are on duty at night.'

“‘Very well. The first of the two shall be here at three o'clock.'

“‘If you please, madam.'”

Falcon looked from Mansel to me. Then –

“I don't have to tell you,” he said, “that I should much have preferred to see them alone. The atmosphere created by the Mother Superior's presence is as forbidding as it is invulnerable. Still, my relations with her had so much improved that it would have been sheer folly to raise such a delicate point.”

“I agree,” said Mansel. “You'd've lost more ground than you'd made. But it is most unfortunate. I don't suggest that the questions you ask in her presence are ever answered with lies: but the fear of incurring her displeasure by something they say is bound, I think, to command every answer you get.”

“As you will see,” said Falcon.

“I drove back to the station then, saw the Chief Constable and dictated a report to the Yard. In this I said that, if nothing broke down here, I proposed to return on Saturday, make a report in person and then go to Curfew Place. Rogers, of course, will remain at Ne'er-do-well. I plan to be back on Tuesday or Wednesday evening. May I come here, Mrs Chandos?”

“Your room will be waiting,” said Jenny.

“You're sure that you've no other guests that–”

“We haven't, indeed. We live very quietly now.”

“You're very good to me.”

“Please don't say that, Superintendent. We're only so sorry you have to be out all day.”

“Mrs Chandos,” said Mansel, “always means what she says. As for your host and myself we count it a very great privilege to be admitted to your counsel.”

“That's less than the truth,” said I. “But I know that I speak for us both, when I say that, because you've begun, there is no reason at all why you should go on. And we don't want you to get tired.”

“Mr Chandos,” said Falcon, “I think I'm right in saying that you never worked alone. If you had, you would know what a blessed relief it is to be able to talk. Rogers is very good; but I cannot talk to him as I can talk to you. Add to that that I look for your reactions to what I say. In a case like this, his would be – I won't say valueless, because that wouldn't be fair: but of very much less account. Neither you nor Colonel Mansel could do Rogers' job. He knows what to look for, and in his particular line he's a tower of strength. But ordinary, routine work is not going to help us here. In this deep and delicate case, outlook, habits and manners make up the bottle of hay in which the needle called motive is lying concealed.

“And now let me take up my tale.

“I lunched with Rogers. Then we went to his room and I heard what he had to say. Only one thing of importance. A car was seen by a cyclist on Monday night. About eleven o'clock. A handsome, pale-grey saloon. It was berthed just off the road, and its lights were out. Rogers was shown the place. It took him seven minutes to walk from there to the Home. Monday, of course – not Tuesday. But, as I have pointed out, if the crime was done by a stranger, a reconnaissance had to be made. The gardeners were not very helpful. In view of my talk with the Mother Superior, I told him to try them again. Oh, by the way, no marks at all on the wall. But this is very easy to scale.

“Then I went back to the station and read and signed my report. Whilst I was there, a note from the Yard came in. Sir William was doing the analysis – at least, it was in his hands. They hoped to have the result by Friday midday. St Amant's prints on everything but the spoon. Somebody else's prints on the spoon and the glass. A hundred to one they're those of Sister Helena.

“Then I drove back to the Home.

“The first of the special night-nurses for Number Three is called Sister Josephine. She has a very sweet face, but it's easy enough to see why she took the veil. She did it to obtain sanctuary. Very earnest, very shy, and next to no brain. Utterly and completely helpless, and only too thankful not to have to think for herself.

“The Mother Superior introduced us and the poor girl looked ready to sink into the ground. I endeavoured to reassure her as best I could.

“‘When I first came here, Sister Josephine, I felt very strange and I don't mind confessing to you that I wished that somebody else had been sent in my stead. But everyone here has been so kind and understanding that I don't feel a stranger now. For all that, I've still got a lot to learn, and the only way I can learn it is by asking questions. So now I'm going to ask some of you.

“‘I think you're helping to nurse a patient in Number Three.'

“‘Yes.'

“‘Does that patient require much attention?'

“‘Not very much.'

“‘But you stay in the room?'

“‘Oh, yes.'

“‘Do you draw the curtains at night?'

“‘Yes.'

“‘Where do you sit in the room?'

“‘In a corner close to the bed.'

“‘Close to the window, too?'

“‘Yes, but the curtains are drawn.'

“‘But you move about, Sister Josephine?'

“‘Oh, yes. But I'm sitting down for most of the time.'

“‘Do you ever look out on the terrace?'

“‘I do sometimes while it's light. But at night the curtains are drawn.'

“‘Now please look back for a moment to Tuesday night. Between half past ten and two… Can you remember hearing any sound which was unusual – a sound, for instance, which you had not heard the night before?'

“‘Oh, no, indeed.'

“‘Quite sure, Sister Josephine?'

“‘Yes, I'm quite sure.'

“‘It's very important – this. You see, I'm almost sure that a sound
was
made or that a light
was
shown on the terrace during that night.'

“The girl shook her head.

“‘Does that mean you can't help me?'

“‘Yes.'

“There was a little silence.

“In the ordinary way I should have left it there. But I wasn't satisfied. Her last two answers seemed strange. The first two were so emphatic: but not the third. And I thought she protested too much that the curtains were drawn. Again, sweet face or no, she would not meet my eyes. If only the Mother Superior hadn't been there… Her presence embarrassed
me
, and I knew I was not at my best. Question and answer had been an exercise – the very thing I always seek to avoid.

“‘Listen to me, Sister Josephine. In this very serious case, I must have everyone's help. Time and again in my life, I have discovered something of which I should have been told. And when I say to the person who should have told me, ‘Why didn't you tell me that?' they say, ‘Because you never asked me.' That answer always upsets me, for it means they've been strict with me. Of course, I should have asked them – the fault was mine: but we're all human, you know; and, though I do my best, I make a lot of mistakes. But if people help me, I don't make quite so many. So please don't be strict with me, and don't withhold the answer to a question I've failed to ask.'

“She looked up there for a moment. Then she looked down and away.