The Judas Kiss (23 page)

Suddenly she gave a cry that put the matter in a new light, or might do so.

"I withdraw what I said. Now I remember. I did find that lipstick. It was on the floor. I put it in my pocket as I thought someone might tread on it. It was done on the spur of the moment and I forgot all about it. That is the truth."

"Or it is your story till you can think of a better one," Grimsby said sarcastically.

"It is the truth. This is the first time I have been told it was lipstick that caused Adelaide's death or I might have remembered sooner. I have never heard of such a thing before."

"Rather late to think of it now," Grimsby rejoined.

"Not at all," Emerald retorted. "Had you told us what you were looking for, instead of being so mysterious, I might have helped you."

At that moment the door opened and Detective Sergeant Allenby looked in.

"May I have a word in private with you, sir, and Major Bennion?" he said to his Chief.

Grimsby was annoyed at the interruption but he knew Allenby must have some good reason for his intrusion.

"I will send for you in a few minutes," he said. Then he turned again to Emerald. "That is the best explanation you can offer? You denied all knowledge of it. You called it a damned lie. Then when you saw that was useless you had this sudden rush of memory. You pocketed the woman's lipstick in all innocence and then forgot about it. Do you expect me, or a jury, to believe that?"

"It is the truth," Emerald replied a little shakily. "As I did not know there was a hole in the pocket it should not be so hard to believe."

"Take her away," Grimsby said to the constable. "I will see her again later. You others can go too."

"Have you nothing to say, Major Bennion?" the girl asked, as she was led from the room. She had appreciated his brief intervention on her behalf as to the use of her pocket, but it had not helped her much.

"Nothing at present," Roger replied. A few moments later he was alone with the Chief Inspector.

"Well, what do you think of that?" Grimsby demanded.

"I congratulate you. You have cleared up the point that worried us and which we might never have solved, how the poison disappeared from the room."

"I have cleared that up all right," Grimsby said, still taking all the credit to himself, "but what about her story? Did she think the lining of her coat was the best place to hide the thing, or was she really ignorant of the hole in the pocket and thought she had lost it?"

"Either could be true," Roger answered thoughtfully, "or her own story might be true. I wonder what Allenby has got hold of."

"Nothing that will change my conviction that Emerald Michelmore is the murderer," Grimsby said emphatically. "I will see him."

DETECTIVE-SERGEANT ALLENBY was a smart man with curly hair and a disarming smile. What he thought of his superior officer was a secret locked in his own bosom. He knew he must be content to do his job and let his Chief take the credit for anything achieved. But that is no peculiarity of the police service. He entered the room, carrying a small box in his hand. He had an air of satisfaction about him.

"You interrupted at a very unfortunate moment," Grimsby said curtly. "I had the guilty party, and I might have got a confession, but I thought I had better hear what you have to say before I charged her. What is it?"

"On the suggestion of Major Bennion, sir, I made a special search of the rooms of Jasper Michelmore."

"Am I in charge of this affair or am I not? I do not like these things being done behind my back and without my authority."

"It was hardly that," Roger said. "I chanced to see Allenby and although I knew you were looking for the lipstick, which you so cleverly found, I made a certain suggestion to him."

"Go on." Grimsby, slightly mollified, nodded to his subordinate.

"Jasper Michelmore is an artist and Major Bennion thought it might be a good thing if I examined his palettes."

"Palettes. What are they?"

"Generally made of wood, sir. He squeezes the paint on them and holds one in his hand and his brush in the other."

"Artists sometimes mix the paint on the palette to get the exact shade desired," Roger added.

"Well?"

"I went to the studio and at first I could not see any palettes. He has, of course, been away and apparently has done no painting since he came back. But I opened a cupboard and saw several of them. At the back, hidden behind the others, I found this." He opened the box he had brought and from it he very carefully lifted a piece of wood almost circular in shape with the usual hole for the thumb. Near the centre was what looked like a thick spot of paint, crimson in colour.

"I could see it was very like the lipstick we were after," Allenby went on, "but, of course, it might have been ordinary paint. I tried to find you, sir, to ask what I should do about it but you were away at the moment. I knew time was important, so I took it to be analysed. I came back directly I got the report."

"Well?"

"It is the stuff we are after. The lipstick mixed with cyanide. The same as on the woman's mouth. Here is the report."

He handed it to them and they read it at a glance. All three of them stared at the crimson splash.

"This is the actual poison mixture," Grimsby asked, "found in Jasper's studio?" He was evidently vexed at some of his thunder being stolen but the importance of the discovery could not be questioned.

"The actual mixture," Allenby said. "No doubt about it."

"The centre of the lipstick had to be removed, mixed with the poison and then replaced," Roger remarked. "It could have been done anywhere but it occurred to me an artist's palette would be useful for the job."

"And an artist the man to do it," Grimsby interjected. "You may as well know, Allenby, that I found the lipstick itself on Emerald. This means that she and Jasper fixed it between them."

"Certainly looks that way," his assistant agreed. Each was disappointed that his own great discovery was not the only one, but both could well contribute to the essential result.

"This discovery is highly important," Roger said, "but something may depend on when the mixture was made. We know when Jasper left home. Did he do it before he went away?"

"Sure he did," Grimsby replied. "He mixed it and left the rest to her. He stayed away until he heard of the death. He could not tell how soon it would be used."

"It wants a little thinking out," Roger commented. "Your investigations have established two remarkable facts. The first is that someone mixed the poison on Jasper's pallet and the second that Emerald picked up the lipstick on the floor of Adelaide's room. What does it prove?"

"That they worked it together, as I said," Grimsby answered sharply.

"But if Jasper made the mixture, would he have left that tell-tale splodge on his palette?"

"Why not? Who would think of analysing the dried paint in an artist's studio? Do you suggest that Emerald did it single-handed?"

"Consider her story. She now admits that she found the lipstick but says she forgot about it. She could not have foreseen that she and her sister would be practically the first to enter the room. If she knew it was poisoned it was a wonderful piece of luck for her to be able to remove it. But one would have expected her to be more careful with it and to have made sure it was destroyed."

"You forget the hole in the pocket!" Grimsby exclaimed. "I found it in the lining. She thought she had lost it and she would not dare to make enquiries about it."

"I think that too, sir," Allenby added to Roger, glad to support his Chief. "We have to remember that both parties, if there were two of them, thought they had hit on a foolproof trick for doing the dirty work. Using a woman's own lipstick! I have never heard of that being done before."

"Devilishly ingenious," Roger agreed, "whoever did it. May I see the lipstick? I do not want to handle it."

Grimsby produced it again from the soft paper roll in which he had kept it. It was encased in the usual gold-coloured metal container. For a moment they gazed at the apparently innocent object that still had such deadly possibilities It had taken one woman's life and it might be the means of bringing another to justice.

"No name or trade-mark on it, unless this means anything," Roger pointed to an incomplete circle on the rim at the base.

"The letter C," Allenby suggested.

"Looks like it. I am not very familiar with these things but there is of course the outer case or cover and the inner holder. On which did you find Emerald's prints?"

"On the outer case," Grimsby said.

"Not on the actual holder?"

"No. On that there were Adelaide's prints. Plenty of 'em. It all adds up. Jasper prepared the poison, cleaned the case and gave it to Emerald, who passed it to Adelaide. She used it and Emerald had the good luck to find it. She knew what it was and would not need to take the case off. Her bad luck was in losing it."

"And in your finding her prints on it," Roger added. "Would that be usual after it had been in her coat for some days?"

"They were faint but identifiable," Grimsby replied. "An ideal surface for taking them."

"I did not know you had them."

"Nor did they," the Inspector said grimly. "Not difficult when they all had separate rooms; prints everywhere."

"It could support Emerald's story," Roger said thought fully. "She picked it up with the case on, so Adelaide re-capped it after using it. Emerald never opened it."

"Good reason not to," Grimsby grunted. "One does not play about with cyanide. She put it in her pocket and it went through the hole into the lining. There is no more to say about it."

He was getting a little impatient. There was an indisputable case; why was Bennion so slow in the uptake, so fussy about details that did not matter?

Roger sensed his annoyance. He turned to Allenby. "Any prints on this?" He pointed to the palette.

"Not tried it yet, sir. Brought it straight from tests. Of course we will have a go at it."

"Jasper's won't help you; you would expect them. If you find others, or none at all, it will be interesting."

"Why none?"

"You could hardly use a smooth bit of wood for a messy job like this and not leave finger-marks, could you? If you do not find Jasper's, it may mean more than if you do."

"You have helped a lot, Major Bennion," Grimsby said testily. "Do you agree it is either Emerald or Jasper or both of them who are responsible for the killing?"

"I agree there is evidence, strong evidence, against either or both."

"And remember the motive. That woman stood between them and a fortune."

"I do not forget it. How did they, or either of them, convey the thing to her, seeing they were not on speaking terms and she kept herself to her own rooms?"

"Need we go into that?" Grimsby crossly demanded. "When anyone is shot or stabbed, you seldom get an eye witness!"

"True," Roger said, "but in a case like this you want a reasonable theory."

"Nothing easier. Emerald could slip into Adelaide's room when she was asleep. Or perhaps she left her bag about. And there was old Nan. She hated Adelaide. It would not take much to bribe her to put it on the dressing-table. I have always suspected Nan had a finger in it. She did the packing too."

"If Jasper had the poison before the death and Emerald after it," Allenby remarked, "that seems good enough. I doubt if we can fill in every detail between. Old Nan denies everything, but of course she would."

"What will you do?" Roger asked. "Send for Jasper and confront him with the new evidence?"

Grimsby considered this for some moments. It was what he had intended to do, but he was not sure he did not see a better way. He was annoyed with Roger's obstinacy but he saw there was a gap and he must try to get over it.

"I might confront the two of them with one another," he said. "When they see what we know we may squeeze the truth from them."

"You might have old Nan, too," Roger suggested. "She is the obvious link, as you said. In fact you might have the whole party: Jasper, the two girls and their boy friends and Nan and Teague. It would be rather like taking a hint from the crime stories where the detective assembles every body and makes them shiver in their shoes, until he finally pounces on the guilty party, generally with far less evidence than you will be able to produce."

"That is a good idea," Grimsby said. He rather fancied himself accomplishing such a tour de force. "It might, be difficult to get them all here. Arrange it for to-morrow, Allenby, in their own home and have the palette tried for prints. Meanwhile I will let that girl go, telling her we have fresh evidence for to-morrow. Give her something to think about!"