The Affair of the Mutilated Mink (23 page)

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Authors: James Anderson

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Detective and Mystery Stories, #England, #Burford; Lord (Fictitious Character), #Country Homes, #Motion Picture Industry, #Humorous Fiction, #Traditional British

BOOK: The Affair of the Mutilated Mink
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They were about to leave the gallery when Hugh stopped. Jemima glanced at him curiously. He said, 'I knew there was some little thing wrong with that bike. The penny's just dropped. The petrol cap's not on properly.'

He walked back to the motor-bike. Jemima waited by the door until he rejoined her a minute later. 'Someone's put petrol in the tank,' he said.

'Really? How odd. I mean why, if they didn't intend to ride it away?'

'Your guess is as good as mine. Anyway, many thanks for finding it. Come on.'

They went out. Hugh closed the door and made to lock it. Then he paused. 'Oh, no key.'

'Is that important? It's been unlocked all day.'

'Agreed. But I would like to be able to assure old Allbad that the bike hasn't been tampered with since I found it. Look, sorry to bother you, but I wonder if you'd mind going and asking the Earl if he's got a key to this door. I'll wait here, just to be on the safe side.'

'Oh, yes, certainly.' She walked off.

It was ten minutes before Lord Burford came along the corridor, carrying a large key. 'Sorry to keep you waiting, Hugh. Had to find this.'

'That's all right. Before you lock up - it's none of our business, really, but Miss Dove and I were wondering about this.'

He went back into the gallery and pointed at the plank. The Earl stared. 'Great Scott! Where did that come from?'

'We thought about decorators - recently departed or imminent?'

'No, no plans that way at all. It's another mystery. Oh, lor', I'm getting so fed up with them.'

They left the gallery again and Lord Burford locked the door and pocketed the key. Saying he wanted an early night, Hugh then went to his room, while the Earl rejoined his guests downstairs.

It turned out, however, that none of them was in the mood for sitting up very late. Nobody had got a lot of sleep the previous night, and mentally it had been an exhausting day for everyone. It was, therefore, almost as a group that the entire party shortly afterwards went upstairs. Paul remained very close to Gerry and walked with her to the door of her bedroom. She was just going in when he took her hand.

'Sweetheart, do me a favour: after Marie leaves, lock your doors.'

She gave him a startled look 'Why?'

'There's a murderer in the house, Gerry.'

'But he wouldn't want to kill me.'

'I expect that's what Laura thought. Will you, darling? Promise?'

'Oh, all right, you old fusspot, if it's going to keep you happy.'

'Thanks.' He gave her a kiss. 'And before Marie leaves make sure there's nobody hiding in there.'

'You know something,' she said, 'you couldn't be more protective if we were man and wife.'

'Gerry, darling, you know—'

She put a hand on his lips. 'Not tonight, Paul. Plenty of time for that when this is all over. Sweet dreams, darling.'

She went into her room and shut the door. Paul made his way to his own room with a song in his heart.

Chapter Eighteen

At ten o'clock the following morning St. John Allgood seated himself behind the table in the small music room. He had moved it since the previous day. His back was now to the window, through which the light from a pale, wintry sun streamed in, waiting to strike straight in the face anyone sitting in the chair opposite him. On the table in front of him were the preliminary statements that had been taken from each of the guests the night of the murder.

Allgood addressed Leather, who was standing submissively by the door. 'Ladies first, I think. Go and tell Miss Fry I'd like to see her.'

 

* * *

 

Walking a little hesitantly, Maude Fry crossed the room, stumbling slightly as her foot caught the edge of the rug. She sat down, folded her hands placidly in her lap, and gazed at Allgood with a calm, uninquiring expression. Her eyes behind the blue-tinted glasses, were almost invisible, but she gave the impression of being prepared to sit there until kingdom come if it was required of her.

Leather sat down in the corner and unobtrusively picked up a notebook.

Allgood said, 'Miss Fry, how long have you worked for Mr Gilbert?'

'Only a matter of weeks. Before that I was personal secretary to Sir Charles Crenshaw, the company promoter. But he retired.'

'I see. That's a pity.'

'That Sir Charles retired?'

'I meant that you haven't been with Mr Gilbert very long. You can't know him all that well.'

'Quite well enough.' For the first time there was a note of emotion in her voice.

'Really? May I take it that he's not a very satisfactory employer?'

'You may. But I would prefer not to elaborate upon the subject.'

'Come, Miss Fry, that's hardly fair. It may mean that he works you too hard, that he fails to pay your salary on time, or that he makes improper advances.'

Maude Fry flushed slightly. 'Nothing like that. The work actually has been quite light. But he's insufferably rude to everybody, all the time - behaviour which, of course, tends always to rebound on the secretary - is invariably late for appointments and thoroughly disorganised. But the last straw was when he brought me here uninvited. It was a most invidious position, and one with which I was not prepared to put up.'

'Ah, yes, Lady Burford told me you'd been intending to leave on Saturday morning.'

'That is so, but naturally in the event I was unable to do so.'

'How did Gilbert react when you told him you were intending to leave his employ?'

'He wasn't pleased.'

'Why do you suppose he wanted you along in the first place?'

'To type the script of
The King's Man
!

'But isn't it very early days for that? As I understand it, the film is only in a provisional planning stage: no contracts have been signed, no firm decision has been made about shooting here at Alderley. Would one normally start typing a screenplay without a lot more discussion and preparation?'

'Well, I have never worked in films before, but I can see his reason for that: he wants to establish himself at the earliest possible moment as the writer of the film - make himself one of the team from the start, so that there can be no question of the job being given to someone else.'

'I thought he had the copyright.'

'Apparently the position is legally a little uncertain. However, if he actually started the script and was able to supply Mr Haggermeir with some good material, as they call it, before he left here, then they'd be far less likely to drop him.'

'Quite astute.'

'Mr Gilbert is no fool. Of course, the murder has changed the situation for everybody.'

'Speaking of the murder, what can you tell me about it?'

'I can tell you virtually nothing. I think the only words I spoke to Signorina Lorenzo were "How do you do?" when we were introduced.'

'Did she speak much to Mr Gilbert?'

'They did have a private talk on Friday morning. I don't know what about. But then, she seems to have spent most of the day seeking out the various men and engaging them in conversation.'

'Is that so? Now, what about the night of the murder? Tell me just what you saw and heard, and what you did.'

'We'd been playing bridge - Lady Burford, Mrs Everard, Miss Dove, and I — until we heard the others arriving home. I was anxious not to see Mr Gilbert, and Miss Dove seemed eager to be out of the way before they came in, so we went up together. It was about one a.m. By ten past, I was in bed. I was very drowsy and fell asleep almost immediately. The shot woke me about an hour later. I got outside in time to see Lady Geraldine rush past, stop in the signorina's doorway, then go into the room. Mr Quartus emerged from his room and followed her. I joined them, and you know what I saw.'

'Can you tell me the order in which the other people arrived?'

She frowned. 'I'm afraid not. They just suddenly seemed to be all around me. And it's rather dim at that end of the corridor. Besides, I must admit I only really had eyes for what I saw in the bedroom.'

Allgood then questioned her about her activities since her arrival at Alderley. She gave painstakingly thorough replies. However, when he asked her about things said or done by the other guests, or any impressions or feelings she may have had about them, he might have been questioning somebody deaf, dumb and blind. He let her go, requesting her to ask Jemima Dove to come in.

 

* * *

 

Jemima sat on the edge of the chair, very pale in the harsh sunlight, her eyes flicking from Allgood to Leather as if she was fearful of a murderous attack being launched on her by one of them if she didn't keep a close watch on them. Allgood didn't speak, just gazed at her until eventually she let her eyes settle on him. Then at last she blurted out, 'I don't know anything.'

'Oh, I'm sure you do, Miss Dove.'

'But I don't honestly. I only arrived a little while before it all happened. I never even saw Miss Lorenzo alive.'

'We only have your word on that.'

'But it's the truth! I went upstairs before she and the others came in.'

'Which gave you a perfect opportunity to go to her room, wait for her, and shoot her. You could have then put the pistol outside, waited for Carter to come along, groaned to lure him in, pushed him in the back - it would have required no great strength - fired the alarm shot with a second gun, hidden in the bathroom for a minute or so, and then joined the others in the doorway.'

Jemima gave a squeak of dismay. 'But the gun, the murder weapon. When could I have got that? I mean, everybody's been saying that the murderer had to get the key to the collection room from the safe in Lord Burford's study first.'

'Are you saying you couldn't have done that?'

'Of course I am! Listen, no one could have got into the study while there were people about in the hall, could they?'

'No.'

'Well, from what's been said, after Miss Fry and I went up, somebody was there all the time until at least ten minutes after Miss Lorenzo went upstairs. I'd have then had to come down, open the safe, take the key, go to the gun room, open it, find and load the gun, and go to Miss Lorenzo's room. By then she would have been in her room at least a quarter of an hour. But according to Lady Geraldine, you deduced from her still having her coat on that she'd been shot two or three minutes at the most after she went in.'

'That's correct. But what about when you first arrived? You were left in the hall while the butler told Lady Burford of your arrival. You might have had time to slip into the study then.'

'Wrong!' she said triumphantly. 'I was only kept waiting for about two minutes. And there was a footman there the whole time. He was winding the clock.'

Allgood bowed his head and spread his hands. 'Miss Dove, you have just cleared yourself of suspicion of murder.'

She fell back in the chair with a little gasp. 'Oh, my, what a relief!' She looked at him, and was aware of a slight smile playing round his mouth. She sat up again, suddenly indignant. 'You'd worked all that out yourself, hadn't you? You never suspected me at all.'

He drew back his lips, revealing his big teeth in a wolf-like smile. 'Perhaps not.'

'Oh, Mr Allgood, I do think that's very unfair! Why put me through all that?'

'Shall we say to stimulate you mentally, get you thinking about that night and talking about it? I think I've succeeded. Now tell me, what was the first you knew of the murder?'

'I heard the shot. I was in bed, but not asleep. Then I heard other noises - voices, footsteps - and I thought I ought to go and see what was happening. I put on a dressing-gown and went outside. I walked along to the main corridor and saw a man making his way towards the east wing. So I followed him. It was Mr Gilbert, I think. When I reached the east wing I saw the crowd and joined them.'

'Everybody else was already there?'

'I think so, but they were mostly strangers and I wasn't really looking at them. And of course it was rather dark.'

'I see. Well, then, I think you can go. Unless there's anything else you want to tell me, anything you've seen or heard that strikes you in any way as odd or significant.'

She puckered her brow. 'No, I don't think so. Except the motor-bike in the gallery, of course. They told you about that?'

'Yes, the Earl mentioned it. Most intriguing. All right, Miss

Dove, thank you. Ask Mrs Everard to join me, if you will?'

 

* * *

 

Cecily Everard was cool and calm and answered Allgood's questions crisply. She knew nothing of Laura Lorenzo, had never even heard of her before Thursday afternoon. She had spoken to her hardly at all, except for a few minutes when she'd been giving Laura a lift back up to the house. She related that conversation. Her knowledge of the other guests was no greater, only having engaged them in small talk. She had spent most of her time on Thursday and Friday talking over old times with her cousin. She had neither seen nor heard anything strange or unusual. As to the murder itself, she had not even heard the shot. Her husband had awakened her to tell her of it. They had gone outside, seen the Earl and Countess hurrying round the corner to the east wing, and followed. She thought that Mr Gilbert and Mr Haggermeir had arrived in the doorway just behind them, but hadn't really noticed.

Allgood let her go. He asked her to send her husband in.

 

* * *

 

Sebastian Everard was by far the most relaxed member of the house party whom Allgood had yet spoken to. He wandered vaguely into the room, smiled amiably and said, 'Colder again today, what?'

'Sit down, please, Everard.'

'Oh. All right. If you like.' He eyed the chair doubtfully. 'Mind if I move this a bit? Sun in the old peepers, you know.' He pulled the chair to one side, plumped himself down onto it, and look a bag of brightly coloured sweets from his pocket. He held them out to Allgood. 'Like one?'

'No, thank you.'

Sebastian turned to Leather. 'How about you?'

'No, thank you, sir.'

'Sure? They're very good.' He took one, unwrapped it, and popped it in his mouth. 'I can make one last over twenty minutes,' he said indistinctly.

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