The Affair of the Mutilated Mink (30 page)

He looked at Jemima again. 'You, in the meantime, had realised the point about the bullet hole in the coat giving away the actual time of death. And - well, I've previously explained what happened then, and we all know the eventual outcome.'

Allgood paused and looked round at his audience. 'And so the mystery is solved and my job is over. Chief Inspector Wilkins will handle the formal charges. So now—'

He broke off, for a
most
unexpected sound had interrupted. It was laughter. And it was coming from the girl they'd known as Jemima Dove. Allgood stared at her in amazement. Then he barked, 'You may think this is all highly amusing, but perhaps—'

She broke in. 'I'm sorry, Mr Allgood. Yours was a marvellous effort, it really was. I'm filled with admiration. Unfortunately for you, there's just not one word of truth in it.' She picked up her handbag. 'It's all right, I'm not getting my gun out — though incidentally I do have a permit for it.'

She reached into the bag and brought out a small folder of stiff cardboard. 'I
am
an impostor. My real name is Ann Davies. I'm an operative of the Tinkerton Detective Agency, as this will prove.' She handed him the folder and continued, 'I had never seen, or even heard of, Mr Carter or Mr Quartus until last Saturday. And I certainly didn't shoot Laura Lorenzo.'

Allgood was gazing at the identity card with an expression of utter disbelief. He looked up, stared blankly at her for several seconds, then suddenly swung round on Paul. 'Carter, this is the girl you knew, isn't it?'

Paul shook his head. 'No.'

Allgood gave what almost amounted to a screech of rage. 'You blithering idiot! Why didn't you say?'

Paul looked annoyed. 'I thought you didn't want me to say, that you wanted me to play along for a bit because you were laying some trap for her - or for somebody else. I didn't know what to say. Besides, you'd already accused her by then, so what difference did it make?'

Allgood's face was a study. He stammered, 'But - but she perfectly fits the description of your girlfriend, which your manservant gave a colleague of mine this morning.'

Paul looked amused. 'They've been talking to Albert?' He looked at Ann Davies appraisingly. 'Yes, I daresay she does. The colouring's the same, the height, the figure. But the girl I knew - her name was Jean Barnes, by the way - didn't look a bit like Miss Davies, really. As Albert, or any of my friends who knew her would confirm, if they saw Miss Davies. I haven't seen Jean for, oh, eighteen months. Last thing I heard she was in South Africa.'

Ann Davies bowed her head. 'Thank you, Mr Carter.'

Allgood rounded on her fiercely. 'All right, so you're not Jean Barnes. But you were here under a false name. And you wouldn't be the first private detective to commit murder.'

She shook her head. 'It won't do. If I'm not this Jean Barnes, where's my motive? And if Mr Quartus and I have never met before this weekend, which I know he'll confirm—'

Hugh nodded. 'Absolutely. You'll never trace any connection between us, Allgood, because there isn't one.'

'So,' Ann Davies said, 'who stole the gun? You've admitted I couldn't have.'

Allgood made a valiant attempt to recover. 'Then if you didn't come here to kill why are you here under a false identity? What are you up to?'

Ann stood up. She seemed quite a different person from the timid Jemima Dove - brisk, assured, decisive. She said crisply, 'I came here on the track of one of the world's most ruthless and efficient professional blackmailers.'

Rex Ransom looked up sharply.

'My firm was hired,' she continued, 'by a wealthy businessman who'd been blackmailed and was determined to see his persecutor brought to justice. He gave us virtually unlimited funds. I've been on the assignment for two years, always just one step behind the blackmailer. I've travelled thousands of miles. Four times I've traced victims who were unwilling to cooperate, seven times I've lost track of my quarry completely. I was on the verge of giving up. And then I got one more lead: the next job was going to be at Alderley this weekend. How I found out about Jemima Dove isn't important. What is important is that at last I've succeeded.' She looked straight at Arlington Gilbert. 'Is it true what Mr Haggermeir said earlier, that you're washed up and on your beam ends?'

Gilbert bridled. 'How dare you! Of course it's—'

But suddenly the piercing gaze she was directing on him seemed to make him think better of what he was saying. He stopped short and his eyes dropped. 'It's - it's true enough,' he muttered.

'In that case, how can you afford to employ a secretary?'

Gilbert seemed to come to a decision. He looked straight at her and spoke clearly. 'I can't.'

'You don't pay Miss Fry any salary, do you? In fact,
she
paid
you
to be allowed to accompany you here and pose as your secretary.'

This time he did hesitate, but only for a second before saying, 'Yes.'

'Would you be prepared to testify to that in a court?'

'I would.'

'Mr Ransom, are you prepared to give evidence and produce the photo and note that were left in your room?'

'You bet I am, honey.'

Ann Davies stepped across to Maude Fry and looked down at her. 'And that, Miss Fry - or Miss Robinson, or Miss Harris, or Miss Clark - means that after two years I've got you cold.'

When Ann had first mentioned her name, Maude Fry had seemed to freeze. But now she at least reacted. She jumped to her feet. 'This is monstrous! I've never been so insulted in my life. I shall leave this house immediately. And I assure you, Miss, that you will be hearing from my lawyers.'

'Then in that case, you'd better sit down again and listen until I've finished. You'll then be able to tell them all I said about you, won't you?'

Maude Fry's lips tightened. 'Well, really! I most certainly shall. I have an excellent memory.'

'Good.' Ann looked at Allgood. 'This woman's usual technique, though not in this particular case, is to obtain a post as private secretary to some wealthy business or professional man. It's always somebody she's heard some whisper of scandal about, and she has quite a network of informers. She's a first-class secretary and quickly makes herself invaluable. A confidential secretary has wonderful opportunities to dig out her boss's secrets. Then, sooner or later, she strikes. She leaves his employ, her bank balance considerably fatter, and usually with a good reference to boot. She's been intelligent enough never to go back with fresh demands, and so her victims have never been driven to prosecute. This time, however, she changed her technique slightly. She'd plainly learnt something about Mr Ransom who, he'll excuse my saying, must be a very rich man. There was little chance, though, that he'd want a secretary: the studio handles all his correspondence, and so on. However, when she heard he was coming to Alderley she did the next best thing. She got herself ostensibly taken on by a man who was going to be a member of the same house party.'

'I didn't get my lead on her movements until last week - how doesn't matter - and then I had to find a way of getting into the house myself. It took some time. On top of that I was delayed by the road conditions on Friday, so I didn't arrive here until the party was well under way. I'd never seen my quarry face to face, but I'd been given enough descriptions of her to recognise her as Maude Fry as soon as I clapped eyes on her. I didn't know what the situation was: whether she'd started to apply the squeeze, or even who her victim was. It could have been any of the gentleman guests, or even the Earl.

'After I was introduced to Fry I was determined not to let her out of my sight more than I could help. When she left the room I went with her, but instead of going to my bedroom I waited a few seconds in the corridor and then followed her. I hid in this gallery and kept an eye on her door. It must have been after that that Mr Turner brought the motor-bike up. After a minute she left the room again, carrying a large envelope. She went into the Royal Suite, came out again almost immediately without the envelope, and went downstairs. I slipped in there myself. The envelope was propped up on the mantelpiece. I took it into the next-door bathroom and steamed it open. As I'd expected, it contained a photograph - which I did not, incidentally, look at - and an anonymous letter. This was cut from newspapers in the usual way and demanded two thousand pounds in cash for the negative. Otherwise copies would be sent to the press.'

'That's just about the amount of cash I have with me,' Rex said. 'How the heck did she know?'

'Oh, her research has always been excellent. She would probably have asked more, but that would have entailed a delay for you to get hold of the money.'

Ann addressed Allgood again. 'If Mr Ransom agreed to meet the demand, he was to come down the following morning wearing his watch on his right wrist. And he was then to leave the money in the roots of a certain specified tree in the park near the drive on Saturday morning. If he went out again in the evening he would find the negative in the same place. That way there need be no contact between blackmailer and victim, and Mr Ransom would not know who the blackmailer was. Fry, who had already prepared a reason for leaving the house on Saturday morning without causing suspicion, would simply slip back into the grounds later in the day and collect the cash.'

'But why do it this way?' Rex said. 'Why not wait until we'd both left here and she could have contacted me by post or phone? It would have been much less risky and, as you said, she could have squeezed me for even more money.'

'For the simple reason that she was in desperate need of the cash. She's made a great deal over the years, but she's gambled most of it away. She's in debt to several bookmakers, who are getting very nasty. She simply couldn't afford to wait. Of course, in the event, the murder meant she had no choice. One thing only puzzles me: why she didn't plant the envelope in Mr Ransom's room earlier on Friday. Before the party left for the village, I imagine, she was prevented by people constantly entering and leaving the other bedrooms all around, but I don't know why she didn't do it immediately after they all left.'

'I think I can tell you.' The words, unexpectedly, came from Mabel. 'I went to her room almost as soon as they'd gone and told her we were just going to start playing bridge. She more or less had to come straight down with Ned and me.'

'Thank you,' Ann said. 'Not that the delay really mattered. Mr Ransom would assume the envelope had been put there much earlier, while he was downstairs waiting to leave, and Mr Gilbert, as well as everybody else, was still upstairs, getting ready.'

Rex nodded grimly. 'That's just what I did figure. And all along it was
her
I tangled with in my room, not Gilbert at all. But I thought I blacked the intruder's eye.'

'You did,' Ann said. 'But it must have been a glancing blow and the bruising didn't show under these blue lenses. However—'

Suddenly her hand shot out and flicked the glasses from Maude Fry's face. 'You see? There's still a trace of a black eye there. She's been wearing these permanently since, and hasn't been seeing too well as a result - been tending to stumble over things. I fancy she only normally wears them for reading.'

'That's right,' Paul exclaimed. 'I remember her putting them on to write something almost as soon as she arrived and then taking them off again.'

Ann looked at Arlington Gilbert. 'It was after she left Mr Ransom's room on Thursday night that she cannoned into you.'

'I thought it was her,' he said in an unusually quiet voice. 'Until Lady Geraldine told me it was she who'd scratched me, that is. Even after that, when I'd had a chance to think about it, I decided Lady Geraldine had mistaken me for someone else. Because I became convinced it wasn't a knife I'd been scratched with. I couldn't prove it was Miss Fry, though.'

'I apologise for everything, Mr Gilbert,' Gerry said.

'But as a matter of interest, what were you doing walking about in the dark on Thursday night?'

'I'd been getting more and more worried about why Miss Fry had been willing to pay to accompany me here.

She'd said she was hoping to wangle a job as Lady Burford's secretary, but I came not to believe that. I was determined to find out the truth. I knew she had a camera
and
a flash gun with her, and the most likely time to use that would be at night. I decided to keep a watch on her room. On Thursday night, I came along here and waited with the door open an inch. After about half an hour, however, there'd still been no movement from her room, and I realised I was being a bit of an ass and she might not stir all night. So I made my way back towards my room. But the lights had gone out, and just as I was groping across the landing somebody came blundering up the stairs and ran right into me. We struggled, and then he slugged me in the eye. So that bloody nose I gave you just now, Haggermeir, you had coming to you. I'd no sooner got to my feet, when almost the same thing happened again, only this time I got a scratched face instead. She must have gone into Ransom's room much earlier, before I'd ever started watching her room, and had been in there all the time.'

Ann nodded. 'The whole thing Was well-planned. Even, I strongly suspect, to the extent of breaking the window in Mr Ransom's original bedroom.'

'She did that?' Rex exclaimed. 'But why?'

'She must have started snooping around as soon as she arrived and quickly realised it would be much easier to get a photo of you if you were occupying the Suite — three rooms with adjoining doors. If your first room was made uninhabitable, it was more than likely you'd be transferred to the Suite: his lordship wouldn't want you relegated to a room at the far end of one of the wings. I won't press that point, though. I can't prove it.'

During all this time St. John Allgood had obviously been making violent efforts to get his thoughts under control. Now at last he spoke again. 'This is all very well, but it's Friday night, not Thursday, that concerns me. You weren't in your room when that shot was fired.'

'I admit it,' Ann said. 'I'll tell you what happened. After reading the blackmail note I replaced it in its envelope and put it back where I'd found it. I wanted the victim to have the shock of finding it. Then a little later I'd go to him, tell him the truth, and ask him to come to the police with me. But at that time
I still didn't know who the victim was
. I had no way of telling who was occupying the Royal Suite. There was no time to go through the occupant's things and get a clue. I had to hurry back downstairs for the bridge game. I could have asked the Countess who was in there, but it might have looked a bit odd. So when we later heard the others returning I went upstairs again with Fry, hurried to my room and put a dressing-gown on over my clothes — I thought it would look more natural if I was up for any length of time - then took up position in that linen room opposite the Royal Suite. About five minutes later Mr Ransom came up and went into his rooms. I decided to give him about ten minutes fully to take in the situation, then go across, identify myself, tell him I knew who the blackmailer was, and ask for his cooperation. Eventually I left my hiding place and tapped on the bedroom door. There was no reply. I was surprised, and I suddenly thought with horror that perhaps he'd committed suicide. I went in. The room was empty. I crossed to the centre, looking fearfully round for a body. Then I saw the envelope where I'd left it — and heard Mr Ransom whistling in the next room. I realised he'd come in and gone straight through to his dressing-room without noticing the letter. The next moment I heard him coming towards the connecting door.