They Found Him Dead Read online

  ‘No wonder,’ said Joe sympathetically. ‘I’m sure we all understand how you must be feeling. But, as I said to Paul, you’ll be the first to appreciate Roberts’s position. In actual fact I believe I’m right in saying that we are all three of us agreed on the subject?’ He paused, but Clement stood frowning down at the floor, and said nothing. Joe glanced momentarily towards his son, and resumed with a rather false air of heartiness: ‘Well, well, we’ve talked it over so often that we needn’t go into it again now. As you know, Roberts came down from town last night to get Silas’s final answer. Naturally things will have to remain in abeyance until after probate, but I fancy we shall have no difficulty in coming to an agreement on the future policy of the firm, and can give our friend here his answer now. What do you say, Clement?’

  There was a short silence. Clement was thinking of what the upkeep and the probable refurnishing of Cliff House would cost him; of death duties, and the super-tax he would have to pay; of the pearls Rosemary must have. Silas had been right: this Australian project was a chancy business. It meant locking up a lot of capital without any certainty of an adequate return. Easy enough for the Mansells to talk so lightly about it. They wouldn’t be risking anything. He looked up and said: ‘Really, I don’t think I am in a position to say anything definite at the moment. I shall have to look into things carefully. The whole situation has altered. I don’t feel I ought to commit myself rashly before I see just how I stand. I’m sure Mr Roberts will understand that it is quite impossible for me to give him an answer today.’

  Oscar Roberts replied before Joe Mansell could speak: ‘Why, surely, Mr Kane! I reckon it wouldn’t be reasonable to expect you to decide anything at a moment’s notice like this.’

  ‘Exactly! This has come upon me so unexpectedly that really I hardly know what is happening. I only came to the office to inform you of Silas’s death, Joe, in case you shouldn’t have heard about it. I’m going up to Cliff House immediately to see my great-aunt, and to make the – er – the necessary arrangements.’ He glanced at his wrist-watch. ‘Yes, I see I’m late already. I have to pick my wife up on the way. I shall have to ask you to excuse me.’

  He hurried away. Oscar Roberts sat still, with his long legs crossed, a faint, imperturbable smile on his lips. Paul Mansell said with an unpleasant ring in his voice: ‘So that’s how it’s going to be, is it?’

  Joe had been standing rather foolishly gazing at the door through which Clement had gone, but he turned as his son spoke, and said robustly: ‘Nonsense, my boy, nonsense! It’s very natural he should feel all at sea just at first. Mr Roberts quite understands that.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Roberts amiably. ‘I don’t want to hurry him unreasonably. You know my position, Mr Mansell. I want the best I can get for my firm, and you make the best. If I can fix things with you I’ll be glad to do so; if I can’t – well, I’ll have to negotiate with the next best.’

  ‘Quite, quite!’ Joe said. ‘We fully appreciate your position, and I think I may say – yes, I am sure I may say that we shall be able to give you a definite answer at no very distant date.’

  On this note of optimism they parted. No sooner had Oscar Roberts left the room than Paul said furiously: ‘The damned skunk! I suppose you see what’s going to happen now he’s got his hands on the money-bags?’

  ‘We mustn’t leap to conclusions,’ Joe said. ‘He hasn’t had time to find his feet yet, that’s all it is.’

  ‘Oh, that’s all it is, is it?’ Paul said. ‘Just hasn’t found his feet! Well, if you ask me, he is finding them a dam’ sight too quickly! When I think that we’ve got rid of that old fool Silas only to find Master Clement –’

  ‘Paul, my boy! Paul!’ Joe interrupted, losing a little of his high colour. ‘You’re talking very wildly – very wildly indeed!’

  ‘Yes, and I feel wild!’ his son threw back at him. ‘Like a fool I thought that, if once Silas was out of the way, we could see our way clear. Now we’ve got a –’

  Joe brought his open hand down upon the desk between them. ‘Hold your tongue!’ He saw Paul staring at him, and said in a milder voice: ‘It’s very tiresome; but I don’t despair of Clement by any means. He’ll come round. Why, he’s been in favour of the scheme all along! But this – this tragic business of Silas’s death – My dear boy, you can’t be too careful what you say. Anyone hearing you might well wonder –’

  ‘Whether I had anything to do with Silas’s death?’ Paul said, looking him in the eye.

  Joe made a gesture with one hand. ‘Of course, it would be a preposterous idea; but we don’t want to give people the least cause to suspect that we did want him dead. And when you talk of having believed that once he was out of the way – well, it’s injudicious, my boy, extremely injudicious!’

  Paul lit a cigarette, and flicked the match into the grate. ‘Naturally I only meant that we’ve heard so much about Silas’s weak heart that I couldn’t help envisaging the possibility of his death.’

  ‘Naturally, naturally!’ Joe agreed. ‘But though the very notion is absurd, one has to be careful. There’s bound to be an inquiry, and one doesn’t want the least hint of suspicion – not that any sane person could possibly imagine for a moment –’

  ‘Well,’ said Paul blandly, ‘if the police suspect foul play, I fancy they’ll be more interested in Clement’s movements last night than in mine.’ He paused, and inhaled a deep breath of smoke. ‘What makes you think there was foul play, Dad?’

  Joe started. ‘I? Good God, I don’t think it! Nothing of the sort! Nobody could think such a thing! Nobody who knew Silas!’

  He was wrong. Mr Timothy Harte, having spent an awe-inspiring hour watching the proceedings of the police, inspecting the scene of the accident, and cross-examining Pritchard and Ogle, told Miss Allison that he was now quite sure that Silas had been bumped off. Miss Allison took instant exception to this vulgar and unfeeling expression, and said that he was talking nonsense.

  He looked her over with a sapient eye. ‘You can say it’s nonsense if you like, but all the same, I bet you think it was murder.’

  ‘I do not!’ said Patricia emphatically. ‘I think it’s all absolutely horrible, and that you’re making it worse by trying to turn it into a cheap thriller.’ She walked away from him, up the stairs to Mrs Kane’s rooms, conscious of a faint wish that Mr James Kane was present to quell his half-brother.

  She was a young woman not easily shaken out of her calm, but the events of this fateful day were, she suspected, a trifle on her nerves. Policemen and ambulances, official questions, servants whispering together, and a general atmosphere of surmise and suspicion, were not conducive to a calm frame of mind. Nor was relief to be found in Mrs Kane’s presence.

  Emily was in her own sitting-room, motionless in a straight-backed arm-chair, staring before her with blank, cold eyes, her shrunken mouth compressed, as though guarding secrets. Miss Allison knew herself to be overwrought when an odd fancy seized her that there was something ruthless about her employer.

  Emily brought her gaze slowly to bear upon Miss Allison’s face. ‘Well?’ she said. ‘So they’ve taken him away?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Patricia.

  ‘Nice scandal!’ Emily said. ‘Inquests! Post-mortems! My husband would turn in his grave!’

  ‘It’s very unpleasant,’ agreed Patricia. ‘But it’s only a matter of form.’

  Emily looked at her queerly. ‘It is, is it?’

  Coming immediately after Timothy’s sinister pronouncements, this grim utterance made Patricia feel uncomfortable. She met Emily’s look, and said after a moment: ‘What do you mean, Mrs Kane? What are you thinking?’

  ‘I?’ said Emily sharply. ‘I don’t think anything. All I know is, that my son is dead. What I think won’t bring him to life again. Yes, what is it?’

  Ogle, in the doorway, brought the news of Mr and Mrs Clement