No Wind of Blame Read online

  ‘You ought to be grateful to me for swelling your audience,’ replied Hugh.

  ‘I must have people in sympathy with me,’ said Vicky. ‘All great artistes are like that.’

  ‘What’s that got to do with it?’ inquired Hugh unkindly.

  The Inspector interrupted this exchange without ceremony. ‘You are Miss Victoria Fanshawe?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, didn’t you know? Only not Victoria, if you don’t mind, because I practically never feel like that.’

  ‘My information,’ pursued the Inspector relentlessly, ‘is that at the time of your stepfather’s death you were walking by the stream with your dog. Is that correct?’

  ‘Yes, and I definitely heard the shot, only I quite thought it was someone potting rabbits.’

  ‘Did you see anyone amongst the bushes, miss?’

  ‘No, but I don’t think I could have. They’re awfully thick by the stream. Besides, I didn’t look, and as a matter of fact I wasn’t paying any attention at all, until I heard Mr White’s voice, and Janet White sobbing. That’s what made me go down to the bridge.’

  ‘And this dog of yours, miss: he didn’t bark, or anything, as though he knew there was a stranger prowling about?’

  Vicky shook her head. ‘No, he didn’t, which makes it look rather as though it wasn’t a stranger, now I come to think of it. Unless, of course, he kept jolly still, and Roy didn’t get wind of him.’

  Ermyntrude said uneasily: ‘But, lovey, it can’t have been other than a stranger. Not anyone belonging to us, I mean, and it isn’t to be supposed any of our friends would go and do a thing like that.’

  ‘No, I worked it all out while I was changing,’ said Vicky. ‘I think Percy must have done it.’

  ‘Vicky, we don’t want to go into that!’ said Ermyntrude hurriedly. ‘It’ll be all over the country once anyone gets wind of it! Now, you hold your tongue, sweetie, like a good girl!’

  ‘Oh, darling, did you want me not to mention Percy? I’m so sorry, but I haven’t myself got any compunction, because he said he was the declared enemy of all our class, so that it seems awfully likely he did it.’

  ‘I must request you, miss, to give me a plain answer!’ said the Inspector, regarding her with such an alert expression on his face that Mary’s heart sank. ‘Who is this person you refer to as Percy?’

  ‘Well, he’s a Communist,’ said Vicky. ‘He’s Percy Baker, and he works at Gregg’s, in Burntside.’

  ‘What makes you suppose he might have had something to do with Mr Carter’s death? Had he got a grudge against him?’

  ‘Yes, but it’s a very sordid story,’ said Vicky softly. ‘You wouldn’t like to hear it from an innocent girl’s lips.’

  ‘I don’t mind whose lips – look here, miss, are you trying to make game of me? Because, if so—’

  ‘Oh no, no, no!’ faltered Vicky, looking the picture of scared virginity.

  Ermyntrude arose majestically from the couch. ‘Is nothing sacred to you?’ she demanded of the Inspector. ‘Won’t you be satisfied until you’ve crucified me?’

  ‘No, I won’t – I mean, there’s no question of me doing anything of the sort!’ said the exasperated Inspector. ‘What I want, and what I’m going to have, is the truth! And I warn you, madam, you’re doing yourself no good by carrying on in this unnatural way!’

  ‘Don’t think that you can bully me!’ begged Ermyntrude. ‘I may look to you like a defenceless woman, but you’ll find your mistake if you try me too far!’

  ‘Oh, Aunt Ermy, do, do control yourself!’ said Mary wearily. ‘Percy Baker, Inspector, is the brother of a girl whom my cousin, I’m sorry to say, had got into trouble. But as all he wanted from my cousin was money, I can’t see why he should have killed him.’

  ‘No, that’s what I thought at first,’ agreed Vicky, ‘but I must say he did seem to me to be frightfully undecided about his racket, when I saw him. I wouldn’t wonder at all if he suddenly made up his mind to go all out for revenge, because he rather approves of massacring people, and thinks the French Revolution was a pretty good act, ’specially while the Terror lasted.’

  ‘The girl’s name and address?’ said the Inspector, holding his pencil poised above his notebook.

  ‘Well, we’re not, as a matter of fact, on calling-terms,’ said Vicky. ‘She works at the Regal Cinema, in Fritton.’

  ‘That’s right: brandish my shame over the whole countryside!’ said Ermyntrude, tottering back to the couch. ‘Pillory me as much as you like!’

  ‘Darling Ermyntrude, it isn’t your shame at all. You don’t mind my brandishing Gladys’s shame, do you?’

  ‘I can assure you, madam, I shall, so far as I am able, conduct my inquiries with the utmost discretion,’ said the Inspector.

  ‘Yes, I wish I may see you!’ retorted Ermyntrude tartly. ‘And if you’re going to interview that – that – well, never mind what, but if you’re going to see that girl, you can tell her that she can sing for her five hundred pounds, for she won’t get it out of me, not after this!’

  ‘Is that the sum that was demanded from Mr Carter, madam?’

  ‘Yes, you may well look surprised!’ said Ermyntrude. ‘And the young man coming up here, as bold as brass, to blackmail my husband in the middle of a dinner-party, and him having the face to tell me as cool as you please that he’d have to ask me for five hundred to get rid of this Gladys with!’

  ‘Mr Carter told you what he wanted this sum for?’ said the Inspector incredulously.

  ‘Well, he had to, or I wouldn’t have given it to him.’

  The Inspector coughed. ‘No doubt that was the cause of your disagreement with Mr Carter, madam?’

  ‘Of course it was!’ replied Ermyntrude. ‘Well, I ask you, wouldn’t you be a bit upset if you found that your husband was carrying on like a Mormon all over the town, and expecting you to provide for a pack of – well, I don’t want to be coarse, so we’ll leave it at that!’

  The Inspector was staring at her. ‘Yes, madam, I’m bound to say I would. But – but – did you tell Mr Carter you would give him this money?’

  ‘Well, what else was I to do?’ demanded Ermyntrude. ‘Faults I may have, and I don’t deny it, but thank God no one’s ever said I was mean!’

  A new train of thought had been set up in the Inspector’s mind. He said in a suspiciously mild voice: ‘I don’t think I need to ask you any more questions at present, madam, except what you were doing at the time of Mr Carter’s death – just a matter of routine!’ he added, perceiving a spark in Ermyntrude’s eye.

  ‘How do I know when he died? What are you trying to get at?’

  ‘Judging from the evidence I’ve heard so far, madam, and the time of Mr White’s phone call to the police station, Mr Carter was shot at about five minutes to five.’

  ‘It makes no difference to me when he was shot,’ said Ermyntrude. ‘I’ve been lying down the whole afternoon on my bed.’

  ‘And you, miss?’ said the Inspector, turning suddenly towards Mary.

  ‘I came downstairs just before my cousin set out to go to the Dower House. When he left, I went out to get some tomatoes from one of the hot-houses.’

  ‘Where is this hot-house, miss?’

  ‘By the kitchen-garden, on the other side of the house.’

  ‘I take it you heard nothing?’

  ‘No, nothing at all.’

  ‘I see, miss.’ The Inspector shut his notebook. ‘I should like to interview the servants, if you please.’

  ‘Certainly,’ Mary replied. ‘But only the butler and his wife, and the under-housemaid are in. The rest of them went out immediately after luncheon. If you’ll come into the morning-room, I’ll send the butler to you at once.’

  The Inspector thanked her, and followed her to the morning-room. Ermyntrude, after c