Death in the Stocks: Merely Murder Read online

  ‘No, no, no!’ said the Colonel, a look of annoyance coming into his face. ‘That is merely the ridiculous notion Miss Vereker seems to have got into her head! Miss Vereker, on her own admission, spent the night at her half-brother’s house, Riverside Cottage, and all that she was wanted to do was to tell us just why she was there, and what she was doing at the time of the murder. Since she is a close relative of the murdered man, it did not seem unreasonable to expect her to give us what information she can about Mr Vereker’s habits and friends; but beyond informing Inspector Jerrold that she loathed her half-brother, hadn’t set eyes on him for months, and had come down to Riverside Cottage with the intention of “having something out with him,” she refused to say a word.’

  A half-laughing, half-rueful look crept into Giles Carrington’s eyes. ‘I think I’d better see her at once,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid you’ve been having rather a difficult time with her, sir.’

  ‘I have,’ said the Colonel. ‘And I think you should know, Mr Carrington, that her attitude has been extremely – equivocal, let us say.’

  ‘I’m sure it has,’ said Giles sympathetically. ‘She can be very tiresome.’

  The Superintendent, who had been watching him, said suddenly: ‘I wonder, Mr Carrington, whether by any chance you are also Mr Arnold Vereker’s solicitor?’

  ‘I am,’ replied Giles. ‘I am also one of his executors.’

  ‘Well, then, Colonel,’ said Hannasyde, with a smile, ‘we must be grateful to Miss Vereker, mustn’t we? You are the very man I want, Mr Carrington.’

  ‘Yes, I’ve realised that for some time,’ agreed Giles. ‘But I think I’d better see my cousin first.’

  ‘Undoubtedly. And Mr Carrington!’ Giles lifted an eyebrow. The twinkle in the Superintendent’s eye became more pronounced. ‘Do try to convince Miss Vereker that really the police won’t arrest her merely because she disliked her half-brother.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ said Giles gravely, ‘but I’m afraid she hasn’t much of an opinion of the police. You see, she breeds bull-terriers, and they fight rather.’

  The Superintendent watched him go out in the wake of Inspector Jerrold, and turned to look at the Colonel. ‘I like that chap,’ he said in his decided way. ‘He’s going to help me.’

  ‘Well, I hope he may,’ said the Colonel. ‘What struck me most forcibly was that he showed almost as little proper feeling at hearing of his cousin’s death as the girl did.’

  ‘Yes, it struck me too,’ said Hannasyde. ‘It looks as though Arnold Vereker was the sort of man who had a good many enemies.’

  Meanwhile Giles Carrington had been escorted to the room where Antonia awaited him. The Inspector left him at the door, and he went in, closing the door firmly behind him. ‘Hullo, Tony!’ he said in a matter-of-fact voice.

  Antonia, who was standing by the window, drumming her fingers on the glass, turned round quickly. She was looking a little pale, and more than a little fierce, but the glowering look faded, and some colour stole into her cheeks when she saw her cousin. ‘Hullo, Giles!’ she returned, with just a suggestion of embarrassment in her manner. ‘I’m glad you’ve come. Arnold’s been murdered.’

  ‘Yes, so I’ve heard,’ he answered, pulling a chair up to the table. ‘Sit down and tell me just what asinine tricks you’ve been up to.’

  ‘You needn’t assume I’ve been asinine just because I happen to be in a mess!’ snapped Antonia.

  ‘I don’t. I assume it because I know you awfully well, my child. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you weren’t on speaking terms with Arnold.’

  ‘I wasn’t. But something happened, and I wanted to see him at once, so I came down –’

  He interrupted her. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Well, that’s private. Anyway –’

  ‘Cut out the anyway,’ returned her cousin. ‘You’ve called me in to act for you, Tony, and you must take me into your confidence.’

  She set her elbows on the table and leaned her chin on her clasped hands, frowning. ‘I can’t, altogether. However, I don’t mind telling you that my reason for wanting to see Arnold was because he’s started to interfere with my life again, and that made me see red.’

  ‘What had he done?’

  ‘Written me a stinking letter about –’ She stopped. ‘About my engagement,’ she said after a moment.

  ‘I didn’t know you were engaged,’ remarked Giles. ‘Who is it this time?’

  ‘Don’t say who is it this time, as though I’d been engaged dozens of times! I’ve only been engaged once before.’

  ‘Sorry. Who is it?’

  ‘Rudolph Mesurier,’ said Antonia.

  ‘Do you mean that dark fellow in Arnold’s Company?’ asked Giles.

  ‘Yes. He’s the Chief Accountant.’

  There was a short pause. ‘This is quite beside the point,’ apologised Giles, ‘but what’s the great idea?’

  ‘Why shouldn’t I marry Rudolph if I feel like it?’

  ‘I don’t know. I was wondering how you came to feel like it, that’s all.’

  She grinned suddenly. ‘You are a noxious cad, Giles. I do think I ought to marry someone or other, because Kenneth will, sooner or later, and I don’t want to be left stranded.’ A rather forlorn look came into her eyes. ‘I’m sick of being all alone, and having to look after myself, and, anyway, I like Rudolph a lot.’

  ‘I see. And did Arnold object?’

  ‘Of course he did. I thought he’d be rather pleased at getting rid of his responsibilities as a matter of fact, because he’s tried often enough to marry me off. So I wrote and told him about it, because though you say I’m unreasonable I quite realise I can’t get married, or anything, without his consent till I’m twenty-five. And instead of sending me his blessing, he wrote the filthiest letter, and said he wouldn’t hear of it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘No reason at all. Snobbery.’

  ‘Now, look here, Tony!’ Giles said. ‘I know Arnold, and I know you. I don’t say he was the type of fellow I cultivate, but he wasn’t as bad as you and Kenneth thought him. Yes, I know you two had a rotten time with him, but it’s always been my firm conviction that you brought a lot of it on yourselves. So don’t tell me that he refused to give his consent to your marriage without letting you know why. He was much more likely not to care a damn what you did.’

  ‘Well, he didn’t like Rudolph,’ said Antonia restively. ‘He wanted me to make a better match.’

  Giles sighed. ‘You’d better let me see his letter. Where is it?’

  She pointed to the ashtray at the end of the table, a sort of naughty triumph in her eyes.

  Giles looked at the black ashes in it, and then rather sternly at his cousin. ‘Tony, you little fool, what made you do such a damned silly thing?’

  ‘I had to, Giles; really I had to! You know that awful way we all have of blurting out what we happen to be thinking? Well, I went and told those policemen I’d had a letter from Arnold, and they were instantly mustard-keen to see it. And it hadn’t anything to do with the murder; it was just private, so I burned it. It’s no use asking me what was in it, because I shan’t tell you. It just wasn’t the sort of letter you want anyone else to see.’

  He looked at her frowningly. ‘You’re not making things very easy for me, Tony. I can’t help you if you don’t trust me.’

  She slipped her hand confidingly into one of his. ‘I know, and I’m awfully sorry, but it’s just One of Those Things. We needn’t say I’ve burned the letter. We can chuck the ashes out of the window and pretend it’s lost.’

  ‘Go on and tell me the rest of the story,’ Giles said. ‘When did you receive the letter?’

  ‘Yesterday, at tea-time. And I rang up Eaton Place, but Arnold wasn’t there, so I naturally supposed he was coming down to Ashleigh Green, with one of his fancy-ladies, and I got the car out, and came after him.’

  ‘For the Lord’s sake, Tony, leave out the bit about the fancy-lady! No sane policeman will ev