Towards Zero (21 page)

“What's this ridiculous story about gloves outside my wife's window?”

Battle said quietly: “Mr. Strange, we've found some very curious things in this house.”

Nevile frowned.

“Curious? What do you mean by curious?”

“I'll show you.”

In obedience to a nod, Leach left the room and came back holding a very strange implement.

Battle said:

“This consists, as you see, sir, of a steel ball taken from a Victorian fender—a heavy steel ball. Then the head has been sawed off a tennis racquet and the ball has been screwed into the handle of the racquet.” He paused. “I think there can be no doubt that this is what was used to kill Lady Tressilian.”

“Horrible!” said Nevile with a shudder. “But where did you find this—this nightmare?”

“The ball had been cleaned and put back on the fender. The
murderer had, however, neglected to clean the screw. We found a trace of blood on that. In the same way the handle and the head of the racquet were joined together again by means of adhesive surgical plaster. It was then thrown carelessly back into the cupboard under the stairs, where it would probably have remained quite unnoticed amongst so many others if we hadn't happened to be looking for something of that kind.”

“Smart of you, Superintendent.”

“Just a matter of routine.”

“No fingerprints, I suppose?”

“That racquet which belongs by its weight, I should say, to Mrs. Kay Strange, had been handled by her and also be you and both your prints are on it.
But it also shows unmistakable signs that someone wearing gloves handled it after you did.
There was just one fingerprint—left this time in inadvertence, I think. That was on the surgical strapping that had been applied to bind the racquet together again. I'm not going for the moment to say whose print that was. I've got some other points to mention first.”

Battle paused, then he said:

“I want you to prepare yourself for a shock, Mr. Strange. And first I want to ask you something. Are you quite sure that it was your own idea to have this meeting here and that it was not actually suggested to you by Mrs. Audrey Strange?”

“Audrey did nothing of the sort, Audrey—”

The door opened and Thomas Royde came in.

“Sorry to butt in,” he said, “but I thought I'd like to be in on this.”

Nevile turned a harassed face towards him.

“Do you mind, old fellow? This is all rather private.”

“I'm afraid I don't care about that. You see, I heard a name outside.” He paused. “Audrey's name.”

“And what the Hell has Audrey's name got to do with you?” demanded Nevile, his temper rising.

“Well, what has it to do with you if it comes to that? I haven't said anything definite to Audrey, but I came here meaning to ask her to marry me, and I think she knows it. What's more, I mean to marry her.”

Superintendent Battle coughed. Nevile turned to him with a start.

“Sorry, Superintendent. This interruption—”

Battle said:

“It doesn't matter to me, Mr. Strange. I've got one more question to ask you. That dark blue coat you wore at dinner the night of the murder, it's got fair hairs inside the collar and on the shoulders? Do you know how they got there?”

“I suppose they're my hairs.”

“Oh no, they're not yours, sir. They're a lady's hairs, and there's a red hair on the sleeve.”

“I suppose that's my wife's—Kay's. The others, you are suggesting, are Audrey's. Very likely they are. I caught my cuff button in her hair one night outside on the terrace, I remember.”

“In that case,” murmured Inspector Leach, “the fair hair would be on the cuff.”

“What the devil are you suggesting?” cried Nevile.

“There's a trace of powder, too, inside the coat collar,” said Battle. “Primavera Naturelle No. 1—a very pleasant-scented powder and expensive—but it's no good telling me that you use it, Mr. Strange, because I shan't believe you. And Mrs. Strange uses
Orchid Sun Kiss. Mrs. Audrey Strange does use Primavera Naturelle No. 1.”

“What are you suggesting?” repeated Nevile.

Battle leaned forward.

“I'm suggesting that—on some occasion
Mrs. Audrey Strange wore that coat.
It's the only reasonable way the hair and the powder could get where it did. Then you've seen that glove I produced just now? It's her glove all right. That was the right hand,
here's the left.
” He drew it out of his pocket and put it down on the table. It was crumpled and stained with rusty brown patches.

Nevile said with a note of fear in his voice: “What's that on it?”

“Blood, Mr. Strange,” said Battle firmly. “And you'll note this, it's the
left
hand. Now Mrs. Audrey Strange is left-handed. I noted that first thing when I saw her sitting with her coffee cup in her right hand and her cigarette in her left at the breakfast table. And the pen tray on her writing table had been shifted to the left-hand side. It all fits in. The knob from her grate, the gloves outside her window, the hair and powder on the coat. Lady Tressilian was struck on the right temple—but the position of the bed made it impossible for anyone to have stood on the other side of it. It follows that to strike Lady Tressilian a blow with the right hand would be a very awkward thing to do—but it's the natural way to strike for a
left-handed
person….”

Nevile laughed scornfully.

“Are you suggesting that Audrey—
Audrey
would make all these elaborate preparations and strike down an old lady whom she had known for years in order to get her hands on that old lady's money?”

Battle shook his head.

“I'm suggesting nothing of the sort. I'm sorry, Mr. Strange,
you've got to understand just how things are. This crime, first, last, and all the time was directed against
you.
Ever since you left her, Audrey Strange has been brooding over the possibilities of revenge. In the end she has become mentally unbalanced. Perhaps she was never mentally very strong. She thought, perhaps, of killing you but that wasn't enough. She thought at last of getting you hanged for murder. She chose an evening when she knew you had quarrelled with Lady Tressilian. She took the coat from your bedroom and wore it when she struck the old lady down so that it should be bloodstained. She put your niblick on the floor, knowing we would find your fingerprints on it, and smeared blood and hair on the head of the club. It was she who instilled into your mind the idea of coming here when she was here. And the thing that saved you was the one thing she couldn't count on—the fact that Lady Tressilian rang her bell for Barrett and that Barrett saw you leave the house.”

Nevile had buried his face in his hands. He said now:

“It's not true. It's not true! Audrey's never borne a grudge against me. You've got the whole thing wrong. She's the straightest, truest creature—without thought of evil in her heart.”

Battle sighed.

“It's not my business to argue with you, Mr. Strange. I only wanted to prepare you. I shall caution Mrs. Strange and ask her to accompany me. I've got the warrant. You'd better see about getting a solicitor for her.”

“It's preposterous. Absolutely preposterous.”

“Love turns to hate more easily than you think, Mr. Strange.”

“I tell you it's all wrong—preposterous.”

Thomas Royde broke in. His voice was quiet and pleasant.

“Do stop repeating that it's preposterous, Nevile. Pull yourself together. Don't you see that the only thing that can help Audrey now is for you to give up all your ideas of chivalry and come out with the truth?”

“The truth? You mean—?”

“I mean the truth about Audrey and Adrian.” Royde turned to the police officers. “You see, Superintendent, you've got the facts wrong. Nevile didn't leave Audrey. She left him. She ran away with my brother Adrian. Then Adrian was killed in a car accident. Nevile behaved with the utmost chivalry to Audrey. He arranged that she should divorce him and that he would take the blame.”

“Didn't want her name dragged through the mud,” muttered Nevile sulkily. “Didn't know anyone knew.”

“Adrian wrote out to me, just before,” explained Thomas briefly. He went on: “Don't you see, Superintendent, that knocks your motive out! Audrey has no cause to hate Nevile. On the contrary, she has every reason to be grateful to him. He's tried to get her to accept an allowance which she wouldn't do. Naturally when he wanted her to come and meet Kay she didn't feel she could refuse.”

“You see,” Nevile put in eagerly. “That cuts out her motive. Thomas is right.”

Battle's wooden face was immovable.

“Motive's only one thing,” he said. “I may have been wrong about that. But facts are another. All the facts show that she's guilty.”

Nevile said meaningly:

“All the facts showed that
I
was guilty two days ago!”

Battle seemed a little taken aback.

“That's true enough. But look here, Mr. Strange, at what you're
asking me to believe. You're asking me to believe that there's someone who hates both of you—someone who, if the plot against you failed, had laid a second trail to lead to Audrey Strange. Now can you think of anyone, Mr. Strange, who hates both you
and
your former wife?”

Nevile's head had dropped into his hands again.

“When you say it like that you make it all sound fantastic!”

“Because it
is
fantastic. I've got to go by the facts. If Mrs. Strange has any explanations to offer—”

“Did I have any explanation?” asked Nevile.

“It's no good, Mr. Strange. I've got to do my duty.”

Battle got up abruptly. He and Leach left the room first. Nevile and Royde came close behind them.

They went on across the hall into the drawing room. There they stopped.

Audrey Strange got up. She walked forward to meet them. She looked straight at Battle, her lips parted in what was very nearly a smile.

She said very softly:

“You want me, don't you?”

Battle became very official.

“Mrs. Strange, I have a warrant here for your arrest on the charge of murdering Camilla Tressilian on Monday last, September 12th. I must caution you that anything you say will be written down and may be used in evidence at your trial.”

Audrey gave a sigh. Her small clear-cut face was peaceful and pure as a cameo.

“It's almost a relief. I'm glad it's—over!”

Nevile sprang forward.

“Audrey—don't say anything—don't speak at all.”

She smiled at him.

“But why not, Nevile? It's all true—and I'm so tired.”

Leach drew a deep breath. Well, that was that. Mad as a hatter, of course, but it would save a lot of worry! He wondered what had happened to his uncle. The old boy was looking as though he had seen a ghost. Staring at the poor demented creature as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Oh, well, it had been an interesting case, Leach thought comfortably.

And then, an almost grotesque anticlimax, Hurstall opened the drawing room door and announced: “Mr. MacWhirter.”

MacWhirter strode in purposefully. He went straight up to Battle. “Are you the police officer in charge of the Tressilian case?” he asked.

“I am.”

“Then I have an important statement to make. I am sorry not to have come forward before, but the importance of something I happened to see on the night of Monday last has only just dawned on me.” He gave a quick glance round the room. “If I can speak to you somewhere?”

Battle turned to Leach.

“Will you stay here with Mrs. Strange?”

Leach said officially: “Yes, sir.”

Then he leaned forward and whispered something into the other's ear.

Battle turned to MacWhirter. “Come this way.”

He led the way into the library.

“Now then, what's all this? My colleague tells me that he's seen you before—last winter?”

“Quite right,” said MacWhirter. “Attempted suicide. That's part of my story.”

“Go on, Mr. MacWhirter.”

“Last January I attempted to kill myself by throwing myself off Stark Head. This year the fancy took me to revisit the spot. I walked up there on Monday night. I stood there for some time. I looked down at the sea and across to Easterhead Bay and I then looked to my left. That is to say I looked across towards this house. I could see it quite plainly in the moonlight.”

“Yes.”

“Until today I had not realized
that that was the night when a murder was committed.
”

He leant forward. “I'll tell you what I saw.”

XVI

It was really only about five minutes before Battle returned to the drawing room, but to those there it seemed much longer.

Kay had suddenly lost control of herself. She had cried out to Audrey.

“I knew it was you. I always knew it was you. I knew you were up to something—”

Mary Aldin said quickly:

“Please, Kay.”

Nevile said sharply:

“Shut up, Kay, for God's sake.”

Ted Latimer came over to Kay, who had begun to cry.

“Get a grip on yourself,” he said kindly.

He said to Nevile angrily:

“You don't seem to realize that Kay has been under a lot of strain! Why don't you look after her a bit, Strange?”

“I'm all right,” said Kay.

“For two pins,” said Ted, “I'd take you away from the lot of them!”

Inspector Leach cleared his throat. A lot of injudicious things were said at times like these, as he well knew. The unfortunate part was that they were usually remembered most inconveniently afterwards.

Battle came back into the room. His face was expressionless.