Original Sin (26 page)

ffhe little archives room will be sealed and I should also like to

lock the archives room itself.'

'For how long?'

'For as long as necessary. Will that be very inconvenient?'

'Of course it will be inconvenient. Gabriel Dauntsey is working on the old records. The job is already well behind schedule.'

'I realize that it will be inconvenient. I asked if it will be very inconvenient. The work of the firm can continue without access to those two rooms?'

'Obviously if you think it important, we shall have to manage.' q"hank you.'

He ended by asking her about the practical joker at Innocent House and the means taken to discover the culprit. The investigation seemed on the whole to have been as superficial as it was unsuccessful.

She said: 'Gerard more or less left it to me, but I didn't get very far. All I could do was to list the incidents as they happened and the number of people who were on the premises at the time or could have been responsible. That meant practically everyone except staff who were off sick or on holiday. It was almost as if the joker deliberately chose times when all the partners and most of the staff were here and could have been responsible. Gabriel Dauntsey has an alibi for the last incident, the fax that was sent yesterday from this office to Better Books in Cambridge. He was on his way at the time to lunch with one of our authors at the Ivy, but the other partners and the senior staff were here. Gerard and I took the launch to Greenwich and had a pub lunch at the Trafalgar Tavern, but we didn't leave here until twenty past one. The fax was sent at twelve-thirty. Carling was due to begin signing at one o'clock. The most recent incident, of course, is the stealing of my brother's diry. That could have been taken from his

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desk drawer any time on the Wednesday. He missed it first thing yesterday morning.'

Dalgliesh said: 'Tell me about the snake.'

'Hissing Sid? Goodness knows when that first appeared here. About five years ago, I think. Someone left it after a staff Christmas party. It used to be used by Miss Blackett to prop open the door between her room and Henry Peverell's. It's become something of an office mascot. Blackie's attached to it for some reason.'

'And yesterday your brother told her to get rid of it.'

'Mrs Demery told you that, I suppose. Yes, he did. He wasn't in a particularly good mood after the partners' meeting and for some reason the sight of the thing irritated him. She put it in the desk drawer.'

`you saw her do that?'

'Yes. Myself, Gabriel Dauntsey and our temporary shorthand-typist, Mandy Price. I imagine that the news got round the office pretty fast.'

Dalgliesh said: 'Your brother came out of the meeting in a bad temper?'

'I didn't say that. I said he wasn't in a particularly good mood. None of us were. It's no secret that the Peverell Press is in trouble. We have to face up to selling Innocent House if we're to have any hope of staying in business.'

'That must be a distressing prospect for Miss Peverell.'

'I don't think any of us welcomes it. The suggestion that any of us tried to prevent it by harming Gerard is ludicrous.'

Dalgliesh said: 'It was not a suggestion that I have made.'

Then he let her go.

She had just reached the door when Daniel put his head round. He opened it for her and waited to speak until she had left the room.

`The gas engineer is ready to go, sir. It's what we expected. The flue is badly blocked. It looks like rubble from the chimney lining, but there's been a lot of falling grit over the years. He'll provide an official report but he hasn't any doubt about what happened. With the flue in the state it is, that fire was lethal.'

Dalgliesh said: 'Only in a room without adequate ventilation. We've been told that often enough. The lethal combination was the burning fire and the unopenable window.'

Daniel said: 'There was one particularly large piece of rubble

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wedged against the flue. It could have fallen naturally from the lining of the chimney or been deliberately dislodged. There's really no way of telling. You'd only have to prod parts of that lining and chunks

would fall away. Do you want to have a look, sir?'

q(es, I'll come now.'

'And you want the fire as well as the rubble to go to forensics?' /es, Daniel, all of it.' He had no need to add 'And I want prints, photographs, the lot.' He was, as always, working with experts in violent death.

As they made their way upstairs, he asked: 'Any news of the missing tape recorder or Etienne's diary?'

'Not so far, sir. Miss Etienne made a fuss about checking the desk drawers of the staff who'd been sent home or who are on leave today. I didn't think you'd want to apply for a search warrant.'

'Not necessary at present. I doubt whether it will be. The search can take place on Monday when all the staff are here. If that tape recorder was taken by the murderer for a specific reason it's probably at the bottom of the river. If the office joker took it, it could turn up anywhere. The same goes for the diary.'

Daniel said: 'The recorder was the only one of its kind in the office, apparently. It belonged personally to Mr Dauntsey. All the others are larger and are AC/battery cassette recorders which take the usual two-and-a-half by four inch cassettes. Mr de Witt wonders if you'll see him fairly soon, sir. He has a seriously sick friend living with him and

promised that he'd be home early.'

'All right, I'll take him next.'

The gas engineer, already in his coat and ready to go, was vocal in his disapproval obviously torn between an almost proprietorial interest in the appliance and professional outrage at its misuse.

'Haven't seen a fire of this type for nearly twenty years. It should be in a museum. But there's nothing wrong with the functioning of the fire itself. It's well-made, sturdy. It's the type they used to install in nurseries. The tap's removable, you see, so that the children couldn't accidentally turn it on. You can see plainly enough what happened here, Commander. The flue's totally blocked. This grit must have been coming down for years. God knows when this appliance was last serviced. This was a death waiting to happen. I've seen it before, you too no doubt, and we'll see it again. People can't say they haven't been warned often enough. Gas appliances need air. Without

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ventilation what you get is malfunctioning and a build-up of carbon monoxide. Gas is a perfectly safe fuel if it's used properly.' 'He'd have been all right with the window open?' 'Should have been. The window is high and rather narrow, but if it'd been properly open he'd have been all right. How did you find him? Asleep in a chair, I suppose. That's usually how it happens. People get a bit dozy, fall asleep and don't wake up.' Daniel said: q'here are worse ways of going.' got if you're a gas engineer there aren't. It's an insult to the product. You'll be needing a report I suppose, Commander. Well, you'll get it soon enough. He was a young chap, wasn't he? Well, that makes it worse. I don't know why it should but it always does.' He opened the door and looked round the room. 'I wonder why he came up here to work. Odd place to choose. You'd think there'd be plenty of offices in a building this size without wanting to come up here.'

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James de Witt closed the door behind him and paused for a moment nonchalantly against it as if wondering whether he would after all bother to enter, then walked across the room in easy strides and pulled the empty chair to one side of the table.

'Is it all fight if I sit here? Confronting you across the board in this adversarial way is rather intimidating. It brings back unpleasant memories of interviews with one's tutor.' I-Ie was casually dressed in dark blue jeans and a loose-fitting fibbed sweater with leather patches on the elbows and shoulders which looked like army surplus. On him it looked almost elegant.

'He was very tall, certainly over six feet, and loose-limbed with a suggestion of gawkiness in the long bony wrists. His face, with something of the melancholy humour of a clown, was lean and intelligent, his cheeks flat under the jutting bones. A heavy strand of light brown hair fell across the high forehead. His eyes were narrow, sleepy under heavy lids, but they were eyes which missed little and gave nothing away. When he spoke the soft agreeable drawl was oddly inappropriate to his words.

'I've just seen Claudia. She looks desperately tired. Did you really need to interrogate her? She has, after all, lost an only brother in appalling circumstances.'

Dalgliesh said: 'It was hardly an interrogation. If Miss Etienne had asked us to stop, or if I thought she was too distressed, we would obviously have deferred the interview.'

'And Frances Peverell? It's just as ghastly for her. Can't her interview wait until tomorrow?'

'Not unless she's too distressed to see rne now. In this kind of investigation we need to get as much information as possible as soon as possible.'

Kate wondered whether his real concern had been for Frances Peverell rather than Claudia Etienne.

He said: 'I suppose I'm taking Frances's t-urn. Sorry about that. It's just that my arrangements have temporarily broken down and my

friend, Rupert Farlow, will be alone if I don't get back by half past four. Actually, Rupert Farlow is my alibi. I'm assuming that the main purpose of this interview is for me to provide one. I went home yesterday by the launch at five-thirty and was at Hillgate Village by half past six. I took the Circle Line from Charing Cross to Notting Hill Gate. Rupert can confirm that I was at home with him for the whole evening. Nobody called and, unusually, no one telephoned. It would be helpful if you could make an appointment before you check with him. He's seriously ill now and some days are better for him than others.' Dalgliesh asked him the usual question, whether he knew anyone who might wish Gerard Etienne dead. He asked: 'Any political enemies for example, using that word in the widest sense?' 'Good God no! Gerard was impeccably liberal, in talk if not in actions. And after all it's the talk that matters. All the correct liberal opinions. He knew what can't be spoken or published in Britain today and he didn't speak it or publish it. He may have thought it, like the rest of us, but that's hardly a crime yet. Actually, I doubt whether he was much interested in political or social affairs, not even as they affected publishing. He'd pretend to a concern if it were expedient but I doubt whether he felt it.' 'What did concern him? What did he feel deeply about?' 'Fame. Success. Himself. The Peverell Press. He wanted to head one of the largest - the largest - and most successful private publishing house in Britain. Music: Beethoven and Wagner in particular. He was a pianist and played rather well. It's a pity his touch with people wasn't as sensitive. His current woman, I suppose.' 'He was engaged?' to Earl Norrington's sister. Claudia has telephoned the Dowager. I expect she's broken the news to her daughter by now.' 'And there was no problem about the engagement?' 'Not that I am aware of. Claudia might know but I doubt it. Gerard was reticent about Lady Lucinda. We've all met her, of course. Gerard gave a joint engagement and birthday party for her here on the tenth of July instead of our usual summer bash. I believe he met her in Bayreuth last year but I gained the impression - I could be wrong that it wasn't Wagner who had taken her there. I think she and her mother were visiting some continental cousins. I really know little else about her. The engagement was surprising, of course. One didn't

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think of Gerard as socially ambitious, if that's what it was all about. It's not as if Lady Lucinda was bringing money into the firm. Lineage but not lolly. Of course, when these people complain that they are poor they only mean that there is a slight temporary difficulty about paying the heir's fees at Eton. Still, Lady Lucinda certainly counts as one of Gerard's interests. And then there's mountaineering. If you had asked Gerard about his interests he would probably have added mountaineering. To my knowledge he only climbed one mountain in his life.'

Kate asked unexpectedly: 'Which mountain?'

De Witt turned to her and smiled. The smile was unexpected and transformed his face. q'he Matterhorn. That probably tells you as much about Gerard Etienne as you need to know.'

Dalgliesh said: 'Presumably he intended to make changes here. They can't all have been popular.'

'That didn't mean they weren't necessary, still are necessary I suppose. Maintaining this house has been eating up the annual profit for decades. I suppose we could stay on if we halved the list, sacked two-thirds of the staff, took a 30 per cent cut in our own pay and contented ourselves with the back-list and being a very small cult

publisher. That wouldn't have suited Gerard Etienne.'

'Or the rest of you?'

'Oh, we grumbled and kicked against the pricks at times but I think we recognized that Gerard was right; it was expand or go under. A publishing house today can't survive on trade publishing. Gerard wanted to take over a firm with a strong legal list - there's one ripe for plucking - and to go into educational publishing. It was all going to take money, not to say energy and a certain amount of commercial aggression. I'm not sure that some of us had the stomach for it. God knows what will happen now. I imagine that we'll have a partners' meeting, confirm Claudia as chairman and MD and defer all disagreeable decisions for at least six months. That would have amused Gerard. He would have seen it as typical.'

Dalgliesh, anxious not to detain him too long, ended by asking him briefly about the practical joker.

'I've no idea who's responsible. We've wasted a lot of time in the monthly partners' meetings talking about it but we've got nowhere. It's odd really. With a total staff of only thirty, you'd imagine that we'd have got some clue by now if only by a process of elimination.

Of course, the great majority of the staff have been with the Press for years and I'd have said that all of them, old and new, were beyond suspicion. And the incidents have happened when practically every-one has been there. Perhaps that was the joker's idea, to make elimination difficult. Most serious, of course, was the disappearance of the artwork for the non-fiction book on Guy Fawkes and the alteration of Lord Stilgoe's proofs.'