Detection Unlimited Read online

  ‘No, but that’s just the type of man Warrenby was too,’ Charles said.

  ‘We don’t know he was, dear: he wasn’t here during the War.’

  ‘At all events, he wasn’t the kind of man the Squire usually encourages.’

  ‘Oh, no, not in the least I must say,’ remarked Mrs Haswell reflectively, ‘I have sometimes wondered why he bothered to be nice to him, particularly when poor Mr Drybeck disliked him so much.’

  ‘He did dislike him, didn’t he?’ said Abby eagerly.

  ‘Well, dear, I’m afraid we all did.’

  ‘But Mr Drybeck much more than most people. Charles, I can’t think how you can be so dim about this! Going on and on about Mavis, when all the evidence points to Mr Drybeck!’

  ‘It doesn’t. Besides, –’

  ‘Yes, it does,’ Abby insisted. ‘He had a motive, for one thing. Not just hating Warrenby, but being done down by him, which I know from things Aunt Miriam’s told me. Losing clients to him, and Warrenby pulling fast ones on him.’

  ‘Abby, me sweet, be your age!’ Charles besought her. ‘Look at poor old Thaddeus! The most respectable body!’

  ‘Like Armstrong!’ she flashed. ‘That’s what’s been in my mind all day! He’s a solicitor, too, and it’s almost the same motive. Armstrong was a respectable little man no one ever dreamed would murder anyone, but he did, so it’s no use saying the motive isn’t strong enough!’

  ‘I agree with all that, but you’re forgetting that it was Armstrong’s second murder – at least, he didn’t pull it off, did he? I remember he was tried for having poisoned his wife, and he had a much stronger motive for that. I don’t suppose he’d have tried to do in his rival if he hadn’t got away with the first murder. Probably made him think he was so damned clever he could get away with any number of murders. Like the Brides in the Bath man. Isn’t it true, Dad, that if a murderer gets away with it he very often commits another murder? Sort of blood to the head?’

  ‘So I believe,’ replied his father. ‘But if you are suggesting that Drybeck has already murdered someone it’s high time you curbed your imagination.’

  ‘I’m not. I’m merely pointing out to Abby where Drybeck’s resemblance to Armstrong ceases.’

  ‘Well, whatever you’re doing, I think we’ve had about enough of the subject,’ said Mr Haswell. ‘Did you get any tennis this afternoon?’

  This question, impartially addressed to both the young people, put an effectual end to the discussion. It was not reopened, the rest of the evening being spent in playing Bridge. Only when Charles motored her back to Fox Cottage did Abby say ‘Was your father annoyed with us for talking about the murder?’

  ‘Oh, no!’ said Charles. ‘I think he’s afraid we shall be indiscreet in the wrong company, that’s all. Like Gavin.’

  She wrinkled her brow. ‘He isn’t indiscreet. He’s waspish.’

  ‘Baiting the Major? I don’t think he’s doing anyone any harm, you know. Merely being witty, and showing-off.’

  ‘He was definitely waspish about Mavis,’ she insisted.

  ‘And who shall blame him? So am I.’

  ‘Yes, but you wouldn’t set the police on to her,’ she said seriously.

  ‘Under certain circumstances I might.’

  ‘What circumstances? I don’t believe you would!’

  ‘Like a shot I would! If I thought the police were after me, or my people.’ He paused, rounding the corner into Fox Lane. ‘Or you,’ he added.

  ‘Thanks awfully! Big of you!’

  ‘I’m like that,’ he said unctuously, pulling up outside Fox Cottage. ‘Nothing I won’t do for the people I love!’

  ‘Go to the stake for them, I wouldn’t wonder!’ she returned, with an uncertain little laugh.

  ‘With enthusiasm – for you!’

  ‘D-don’t be so silly! Oh, look! here comes Aunt Miriam!’

  ‘Blast Aunt Miriam!’ said Charles savagely.

  ‘Hallo, Charles!’ said Miss Patterdale, opening the gate, and coming up to the car with a large cardboard dress-box under her arm. ‘I thought you’d bring Abby back, so I packed up the things for your mother’s Sale of Work. Will you give them to her, please?’

  He took the box from her, and threw it somewhat unceremoniously on to the back-seat. ‘All right, Aunt Miriam. Is that ghastly Sale upon us again already? Hell! What about running down to the sea tomorrow, after tea, Abby? I’ll look in in the morning on my way to the office, and see how you feel about it. ’Night, Aunt Miriam!’

  ‘Nice boy, Charles,’ remarked Miss Patterdale, accompanying her niece up the path to the front-door. ‘Did you solve the mystery between you?’

  ‘No. Actually, Mr Haswell rather squashed us. I say, Aunt Miriam, you know Charles and I looked in at the Red Lion for a short one before we went on to The Cedars? Well, we were having drinks with Gavin and Major Midgeholme when that detective who interviewed Mavis walked in, and whoever do you think he brought with him?’

  ‘Two detectives from Scotland Yard,’ said Miss Patterdale promptly. ‘I met them up at Fox House.’

  ‘Oh, no, did you really? What did you think of the little one – the Chief Inspector? I rather fell for him. He’s got a sense of humour, and he handled Gavin a fair treat!’

  ‘I should say,’ responded Miss Patterdale grimly, ‘that he is adept in handling people a fair treat, as you put it. You should have heard him with Flora Midgeholme! I knew this would lead to trouble!’

  ‘No, why should it? Only for the murderer, and you don’t mind that, do you?’

  ‘Certainly not, but it won’t be only for the murderer if I know anything about it. There won’t be a skeleton in Thornden that isn’t dug up. Don’t tell me! Your Chief Inspector said that they always tried to be discreet. I don’t know whether he thought I believed him. I suppose you know he called on Thaddeus Drybeck?’

  ‘No! What happened? Tell me!’

  ‘I don’t know, except that he’s made Thaddeus behave like a cat on hot bricks. He came up here after supper with one of the feeblest excuses I’ve ever heard, and tried to make me remember what time it was when Mavis came to tell me her uncle had been killed. I’m not surprised he’s losing ground in his practice: make him grasp that I wasn’t likely to remember something I’d never known I could not! I couldn’t think what he was after. You’d never guess what it turned out to be! He’s trying to prove that Mavis killed her uncle! Silly old fool! The fact of the matter is he’s lived the whole of his life wrapped up in cottonwool, and this affair has frightened him out of his wits.’

  Abby, who was trying to pour out a glass of lemonade without allowing the scraps of peel to slide out of the jug, suspended her operations to stare at her aunt. ‘Is he really scared?’ she asked. ‘Then it all goes to show! Why should he be scared if he had nothing to do with it? Trying to divert suspicion on to someone else, too!’

  Miss Patterdale was rather amused by this. ‘Well, you all of you seem to suspect someone, so why shouldn’t he?’

  ‘No, only Charles and me, really, because Gavin isn’t serious. The Haswells don’t suspect anyone, and the Major doesn’t either.’

  ‘Flora does,’ said Miss Patterdale, with a short bark of laughter. ‘Lord, what a fool that woman can be! She can’t make up her mind whether that Pole did it, or the Lindales – either one of them or both.’

  ‘The Lindales,’ repeated Abby, considering this suggestion dispassionately. ‘I don’t know them well enough to say. Why does Mrs Midgeholme think they might have?’

  ‘No reason at all. Mrs Lindale has been a little stand-offish to her. Don’t blame her!’

  ‘What do the Lindales themselves say about it?’

  ‘My dear girl, you don’t suppose I’ve been up to Rushyford, do you? I’ve no idea.’

  ‘Oh, no, I just thought you might have seen them after church!’

  ‘They aren’t churchgoers. At least, he isn’t. I don’t know what she may do: I believe she’s an RC.’

  ‘O