Have His Carcase (57 page)

‘Yes,’ said Bunter. ‘The fact is, I heard there might be a vacancy for a

gentleman’s personal attendant at No. 17, and I thought I’d like to know what

the family was like before applying for it.’

‘Oh, I see. Yes, You’d find it a nice family. Quiet. No children. Mrs

Morecambe is a nice lady. Good-looking in her time, I should say. Used to be

on the stage, I’m told, but that must have been a good long time ago. Two

maids kept and everything quite as you might wish to find it.’

Bunter expressed his gratitude and left the shop to send a telegram to Lord

Peter.

The chase was ended.

XXXI

THE EVIDENCE OF THE HABERDASHER’S ASSISTANT

‘Ha! well! what next?

You are the cupbearer of richest joy—

But it was a report, a lie.’

The Second Brother

Monday, 6 July

‘I look at it this way,’ said Superintendent Glaisher. ‘If this here Bright is

Morecambe, and Mrs Morecambe is in cahoots with Weldon, then, likewise,

Weldon and Bright – so to cal him – are in cahoots together.’

‘Undoubtedly,’ said Wimsey, ‘but if you think that this identification is going

to make life one grand, sweet song for you, you are mistaken. Al it has done so

far is to bust up every conclusion we have so far come to.’

‘Yes, my lord; undoubtedly the thing stil has a hitch in it. Stil, every little

helps, and this time we’ve got more than a little to go on with. Suppose we

work out where we stand. First of al, if Bright is Morecambe, he isn’t a hair-

dresser; therefore he had no legitimate cal to buy that razor; therefore his tale

about the razor is al eyewash, like we always thought it was; therefore,

humanly speaking there’s not much doubt that Paul Alexis didn’t commit

suicide, but was murdered.’

‘Exactly,’ said Wimsey, ‘and since we have devoted a great deal of time and

thought to the case on the assumption that it was a murder, it’s a convenience

to know that the assumption is probably correct.’

‘So it is. Wel, now, if Weldon and Morecambe are both in this together, it’s

likely that the motive for the murder is what we thought – getting hold of Mrs

W.’s money – or isn’t it?’

‘It’s likely,’ agreed Wimsey.

‘Then what’s al this Bolshevik business got to do with it?’ demanded

Inspector Umpelty.

‘Lots,’ said Wimsey. ‘Look here; I’m going to offer you two more

identifications. First of al, I suggest that Morecambe was the bearded friend

who came to stay with Weldon at Fourways Farm at the end of February. And

secondly, I suggest that Morecambe was the bearded gentleman who

approached Mr Sulivan of Wardour Street and asked him for the photograph

of a Russian-looking girl. It is interesting that Mr Horrock’s cultivated theatrical

mind should have associated him immediately with Richard III.’

Inspector Umpelty looked puzzled, but the Superintendent smacked his hand

on the table.

‘The hunchback!’ he cried.

‘Yes – but they seldom play Richard as a real hunch-back nowadays. A

slight suggestion of crookedness is what they usualy give you – just that

scarcely perceptible twistiness of shoulder that Morecambe has about him.’

‘Of course, that’s plain enough, now we know about the beard,’ said

Glaisher. ‘But why the photograph?’

‘Let’s try and put the story together in the right order, as far as we’ve got it,’

suggested Wimsey. ‘First of al, here is Weldon, over head and ears in debt,

and raising money against his expectations from his mother. Very wel. Now,

early this year, Mrs Weldon comes to Wilvercombe, and begins to take a great

deal of interest in Paul Alexis. In February, she definitely announces that she

means to marry Alexis, and possibly she is foolish enough to admit that, if she

does marry him, she wil leave him al her money. Almost immediately after this

announcement, Morecambe comes to stay at Weldon’s farm. And within a

week or two, the strange coded letters with the foreign stamps begin to arrive

for Alexis.’

‘That’s clear enough.’

‘Now, Alexis has always hinted to people that there is a mystery about his

birth. He fancies that he is of noble Russian descent. I suggest that the first letter

—’

‘One minute, my lord. Who do you suppose wrote those letters?’

‘I
think
Morecambe wrote them, and got them posted by some friend in

Warsaw. As I see it, Morecambe is the brains of the conspiracy. He writes his

first letter, no doubt in plain English, hinting at Imperialist activities in Russia and

grandiose prospects for Paul Alexis, if he can prove his descent – but, of

course, there must be complete secrecy about the whole thing.’

‘Why the secrecy?’

‘To preserve the romantic atmosphere. Alexis, poor egg, swalows this,

hook, line and sinker. He promptly writes back teling the so-caled Boris

everything he knows or imagines about himself. The code is henceforth used, of

course, to keep Alexis in the proper frame of mind and give him a nice toy to

play with. Then, from the little bits of family tradition that Alexis supplies,

“Boris” (that is, Morecambe) builds up a suitable genealogical fantasy to fit in

with these data, and outlines a marvelous plot to place Alexis on the Imperial

throne of Russia. Meanwhile, Alexis reads books about Russian history, and

obligingly assists his murderer to bait and arm the trap. Eventualy, Boris tels

him that the conspiracy is nearly ready to take effect; and that is when we find

Alexis indulging in mysterious hints and prophecies of his forthcoming

apotheosis.’

‘Just a minute,’ said Glaisher. ‘I should have thought that the simplest way

for Morecambe would have been to get Alexis to break off with Mrs Weldon

on the grounds that he had to go to Russia and be a Tsar. Surely that would

have attained the object of the plot without bumping off the poor little blighter.’

‘Wel, would it?’ said Wimsey. ‘In the first place, I rather imagine that Mrs

Weldon’s romantic reaction to a notion of that kind would have been to hand

over large sums of money to Alexis for the Imperial war-chest, which would

hardly have suited Messrs Weldon and Morecambe. Secondly, if Alexis did

break off the engagement and they trusted to that – what would happen next?

They couldn’t go on for the remainder of al their lives writing code-letters

about imaginary conspiracies. Some time or other, Alexis would wake up to the

fact that the plot was never going to materialise. He would tel Mrs Weldon and

in al probability the
status quo
would be restored. And the lady would be

keener than ever on the marriage if she thought her fiancé realy was the

unacknowledged Tsar of al the Russias. No; the safest way was to tel Alexis

to keep the whole thing absolutely secret, and then, when the time came, they

could wipe him out finaly and completely.’

‘Yes – I see that.’

‘Now we come to Leila Garland. I don’t think there is any doubt that Alexis

deliberately pushed her off on to our conceited young friend, da Soto – though

naturaly neither da Soto nor she would admit that possibility for a moment. I

fancy Antoine has got the right idea about that; he is probably an observer of

considerable experience in these matters. Leila would be a very dangerous

person if she were alowed to know anything about the pretended plot. She

would be bound to talk, and they didn’t want talk. We’ve got to remember that

the object of al this business was to stage a suicide. Young emperors on the

point of leading successful revolutions do not commit suicide. To tel Leila about

the plot was to tel the world: therefore, Leila must be got rid of, because, if she

remained closely in contact with Alexis, it would be almost impossible to keep

her in ignorance.’

‘Sounds as though young Alexis was a bit of a black-guard,’ said Inspector

Umpelty. ‘First, he chucks his girl. Secondly, he leads poor old Mrs Weldon up

the garden, by pretending to go in with an engagement he doesn’t mean to carry

out.’

‘No,’ said Wimsey. ‘You don’t alow for the Imperial outlook. A prince in

exile may form irregular attachments, but, when the cal comes to him to take up

his imperial station, al personal ties must be sacrificed to his public duty. A

mere kept woman, like Leila, can be simply dismissed or handed over to

somebody else. A person to whom he is bound by more honourable ties wil

also have to be sacrificed, but with more ceremony. We do not know, and we

never shal know, exactly what Alexis meant to do about Mrs Weldon. We

have her word for it that he tried to prepare her for some grand and surprising

development in the near future, though, naturaly, she put the wrong

interpretation on the thing. I imagine that what Alexis intended to do was to

write her a letter, after his departure for Warsaw, teling her what had happened

to him and offering her his hospitality at his Imperial court. The whole affair

would have been surrounded with a halo of romance and splendour and self-

sacrifice, and no doubt Mrs Weldon would have enjoyed it down to the

ground. There’s one thing: although, before al this Russian business started,

Alexis had Mrs Weldon completely under his thumb, he apparently always

refused to take any large sums of money from her – and that, I think, is greatly

to his credit, and shows that he had the instincts of a gentleman, if not

necessarily of a prince.’

‘That’s true,’ said Glaisher. ‘I suppose, if the plot had never been started, he

would have married her.’

‘Oh, yes, I should think so. He’d have married her and done his duty by her

according to his own lights, which were probably – wel, continental. He would

have been a charming husband to her and kept a mistress in a discreet and

decent manner.’

Inspector Umpelty seemed disposed to quarrel with the term ‘decent,’ but

Wimsey hurried on with his argument.

‘I fancy, too, that Alexis may have shown a little reluctance to take this

course with Leila and Mrs Weldon. He may have been realy fond of Leila; or

he may have felt uncomfortable about letting Mrs Weldon down. So that was

why they invented Feodora.’

‘And who
was
Feodora.’

‘Feodora was no doubt supposed to be the lady of lofty lineage destined to

be the bride of the new Tsar Pavlo Alexeivitch. What was easier than to go to a

theatrical agent, find the photograph of a not-too-wel-known lady of Russian

extraction, and send it to Alexis as the portrait of the Princess Feodora, the

lovely lady who was waiting and working for him in exile until the time should

come for her to take her place beside him on the Imperial throne? Those

blessed romances that Alexis was so fond of are ful of that kind of thing. There

would be letters, perhaps, from Feodora, ful of tender anticipation. She would

be already in love with the Grand-Duke Pavlo from al she had heard of him.

The glamour of the whole idea would bewitch him. And besides, it would be his

duty to his people to marry Feodora. How could he hesitate? A glance at that

very beautiful face, crowned with its regal head-dress of pearls—’

‘Oh!’ said Glaisher. ‘Yes, of course. That would be one reason why they hit

on that particular photograph.’

‘Of course. No doubt the pearls were merely the best Woolworth, like the

whole pathetic ilusion, but these things serve their purpose, Glaisher, they serve

their purpose. My God, Glaisher – when you think of that poor sily devil, going

to his death on a lonely rock, with his brain spinning with the idea of being

crowned Emperor—’

Wimsey broke off, shaken by an unwonted vehemence of feeling. The two

policemen shuffled their feet sympatheticaly.

‘Wel, it does seem a shame, my lord, and that’s a fact,’ said Glaisher. ‘Let’s

hope he died quick, without knowing any better.’

‘Ah!’ said Wimsey, ‘but how did he die? That’s the snag, you know. Wel,

never mind that for the moment. What next? Oh, the three hundred pounds in

gold. That’s a funny little incident, and very nearly upset the conspiracy

altogether.

‘I can’t believe that that was any part of the plot as originaly worked out.

Morecambe couldn’t have foreseen the opportunity of colecting that gold. I

think that must have been Paul Alexis’ own contribution to the romance. He

had probably read in books about gold – about its passing current everywhere,

and al that – and thought it would somehow be a fine thing to set out to

conquer a throne with a beltful of gold. It was ridiculous, of course – an absurd

little sum, bulky and awkward to carry about – but it was gold. Gold has its

glitter, you know. As somebody says, “the glitter is the gold”. That sounds like

relativity physics, but it’s psychological fact. If you were a romantic young