Death in the Stocks: Merely Murder Read online

  They had come to a crossing, and the traffic lights were against them. Not until the car had moved forward again did Giles Carrington answer. Then he said, with a smile: ‘Yes, you’d be a fool – but I told you I was going to take a hand, didn’t I?’

  ‘Well, if anything has occurred to you, let me have it,’ said Hannasyde placably.

  ‘Two possibilities have occurred to me, but both are so wildly improbable that I think I won’t bother you with them,’ replied Giles. ‘One is obvious enough for you to have thought of for yourself –’

  Hannasyde gave a chuckle. ‘Thank you!’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it quite like that. The other –’ he paused – ‘the other, as far as I know, has absolutely nothing to support it. I’ll see if I can find something.’

  ‘It doesn’t sound very promising,’ said Hannasyde, rather amused. ‘But by all means go ahead with it.’

  In another few minutes they had arrived at the studio. Giles ran his car a little way down the mews, and followed Hannasyde up the stairs to the door of the flat.

  It was opened to them by Murgatroyd, who exclaimed: ‘What, again?’ in tones of deep disgust. ‘Well, one thing’s certain – you can’t go worrying my young lady and gentleman now. They’re having breakfast. Good-morning, Mr Giles.’

  ‘Having breakfast, Murgatroyd?’ Giles said. ‘Do you know it’s nearly eleven?’

  ‘Yes, and it was nearly five before Mr Kenneth and Miss Leslie came back from that dance,’ said Murgatroyd grimly.

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, but Superintendent Hannasyde is a busy man. Mr Kenneth will have to be disturbed.’

  ‘If you say so, sir,’ conceded Murgatroyd, disapprovingly, and stood back. ‘Not but what I doubt whether Miss Leslie’s dressed to receive company, but I’ll see.’

  ‘Miss Leslie? Is she here?’

  ‘Oh yes, she’s here, and has been all night – what there was left of it by the time Mr Kenneth brought her back,’ replied Murgatroyd. ‘What must she do but leave her latch-key behind, so sooner than knock up her landlady she wakes Miss Tony, and gets into her bed.’ She opened the door into the studio as she spoke, and looked in. ‘Here’s Mr Giles with the Superintendent, Miss Tony. Will I let them in, or not?’

  ‘Oh, my God, at this hour!’ groaned Kenneth. ‘Say we’re out.’

  ‘No, don’t. Of course they can come in,’ said Antonia. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Leslie? Hullo, Giles! Good-morning, Superintendent. Have some coffee!’

  The breakfast-table had been laid in the window. Antonia, fully dressed, was seated at one end, behind the coffee-pot, with Leslie Rivers, in a kimono, on one side of her, and Kenneth, in pyjamas, a pair of flannel trousers, and an old blazer, on the other. Kenneth, who looked half asleep, blinked somewhat morosely at the visitors, and said: ‘Well, what’s happened now? Don’t spare us. For God’s sake cover up those repulsive eggs, Tony! Murgatroyd must be mad. Where’s the ham?’

  ‘We finished it yesterday. Do sit down, Superintendent! This is Miss Rivers, by the way. You’re looking rather grim, Giles. Is anything the matter?’

  ‘I’m afraid something very serious, Tony. Roger is dead – shot.’

  There was a moment’s frozen silence. Then Antonia gasped out: ‘Gosh!’

  Kenneth, who had stayed his coffee-cup half-way to his mouth, blinked again and drank with a good deal of deliberation. Then he set the cup down in the saucer, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and said coolly: ‘If true, slightly redundant. Is it true, by any chance?’

  ‘Perfectly true, Mr Vereker,’ said Hannasyde, watching him.

  It struck Giles, also watching, that Kenneth’s control over his features was almost too perfect. There was a suggestion of rigidity about his mouth, a curiously blank look in his eyes. They travelled from Giles’s face to Hannasyde’s. Then Kenneth picked up his cup and saucer, and handed it to Antonia. ‘More coffee, please,’ he said. ‘How my fortunes do fluctuate!’

  ‘You don’t seem to be greatly surprised, Mr Vereker.’

  ‘I should hate you to know how very greatly surprised I am, my friend-the-Superintendent. You did say shot, didn’t you? What does that mean? Suicide?’

  ‘That or murder,’ said Hannasyde. The word, uttered so baldly, had an ugly sound, and made Leslie Rivers shiver involuntarily.

  ‘Let’s stick to suicide,’ suggested Kenneth. ‘It’s more likely.’

  ‘Do you think so? Why?’

  ‘Obvious inference. He killed Arnold, thought you were on to him, lost his nerve, and pulled the trigger. Violet said he had the wind up.’

  ‘Did she?’ It was Giles who spoke. ‘What made her think that?’

  ‘I didn’t ask.’

  Leslie said in rather a strained voice, ‘He must have had the wind up. I thought so myself.’

  ‘Well, I never saw any signs of it,’ said Antonia flatly.

  Leslie looked steadily at her. ‘Oh yes, Tony! He often had a sort of scared expression in his eyes.’

  ‘That was only because he thought you’d like to murder him,’ replied Antonia irrepressibly. ‘He said you –’ She broke off, flushing scarlet. ‘Oh, Lord, what on earth am I saying? It was only a joke, of course! He didn’t really think so!’

  ‘No, I should hardly suppose he did,’ said Leslie quietly. ‘I can’t say I liked him much, but I hadn’t any desire to murder him. However, perhaps it’s just as well that I’ve got an alibi.’ She turned to Hannasyde and smiled. ‘I was with Mr Kenneth Vereker last night, from a quarter to eight onwards. We had dinner together at the Carlton, and went on from there to the Albert Hall, where we danced till after four o’clock. Then we came back here.’

  ‘Were you together the entire evening, Miss Rivers?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she answered.

  Kenneth’s eyes went swiftly to her face with a look in them hard to read.

  ‘Did you go to the ball alone, or in a party?’ asked Hannasyde.

  It seemed to Giles that she hesitated for a moment. ‘We joined a party,’ she said.

  ‘A large party, Miss Rivers?’

  ‘No, not very.’

  ‘How many were in it?’

  ‘About a dozen, all told,’ said Kenneth. ‘We shared a box.’

  ‘And you naturally danced with other members of the party besides Miss Rivers?’

  ‘Naturally,’ concurred Kenneth.

  ‘But we always met in the box again after every dance,’ Leslie struck in. ‘I don’t think we lost sight of each other for more than five minutes at a time the whole night, did we, Kenneth?’

  ‘No,’ said Kenneth slowly. ‘Probably not.’

  Giles thought, with a sinking heart: That’s a lie. And Kenneth isn’t doing it well.

  ‘You didn’t leave the Albert Hall during the course of the dance, Mr Vereker?’

  ‘No.’

  There was a pause. Hannasyde put his hand in his pocket, and drew out the meerschaum pipe. ‘Have you ever seen that before?’ he asked.

  Kenneth looked at it, then held out his hand. Hannasyde put the pipe into it. Kenneth inspected it more closely and gave it back. ‘Many times. It belongs to me.’

  ‘I found it on the mantelpiece in your half-brother’s flat, Mr Vereker.’

  ‘Did you?’ said Kenneth. ‘I must have left it there.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Two or three nights ago. I was dining there.’

  ‘You haven’t missed it?’

  ‘No,’ said Kenneth indifferently. ‘I don’t always smoke the same pipe.’

  ‘A meerschaum is usually a somewhat cherished possession,’ Hannasyde said. ‘I too am a pipe-smoker, you know.’

  ‘You may be, but you’re not a Vereker,’ returned Kenneth, the ghost of his impish look in his eyes. He pushed his plate aside, and set his elbows on the table. ‘And now may I ask a few questions?’

  ‘In a moment, Mr Vereker. I want you first to tell me the names of the other members in your party last night.’

  ‘You a