The Affair of the Bloodstained Egg Cosy (27 page)

'Deveraux's hearing, eh?' said Peabody.

'Yes, sir. But again something not heard, a sound that was lacking. So I took another closer look at Miss Clifton's evidence. And immediately one question struck me: when, during the night, she'd left her room, supposedly to investigate the sounds she'd heard, why hadn't she switched on a light? By then I knew about the movements and motives of everyone else who'd been up, and I realised they'd all had good reasons for not wanting to be seen. But if Miss Clifton were telling the truth, she'd had no such reason. Yet apparently, apart from quickly flashing the gallery light on and off, she'd spent all the time groping about in the dark and striking matches.

'I next asked Mr. Deveraux to go into very precise detail as to their finding of the Baroness's body. Then I learned something else odd. Miss Clifton had been going to take her handbag into the passage with her. I could think of no reason she should do that - unless it were to put something in it. Which meant she must have known there was something behind the panel. And the only thing - other than the body -was the pistol which had killed Batchev. I was then sure Miss Clifton had set up the business of the breakfast room window just to fool us.

'I still couldn't understand how she'd managed the actual murder, as it didn't seem she'd had time to leave the house and get back again. I thought of all sorts of things: that she'd had an accomplice; that Batchev wasn't killed instantly and had staggered out to die; even that there might be an underground river leading to the lake with an entrance in the cellars, into which she could have dumped the body. Then, when I was looking in the gun room again, I saw the circus cannon - and something clicked. We checked and found minute traces of blood inside the barrel. That was it.'

'Lord Burford's collection,' Richard said. 'I thought that simply meant the murder weapon came from it.'

'One murder weapon came from it sir. The pistol that killed Batchev came from Mr. Peabody's collection. From that aspect, both collections were of equal importance, and I would have mentioned both if that had been what I had in mind.'

'And the pointer about the weather?' Peabody asked.

'Miss Clifton explained that correctly. The weather was important: you had complete darkness followed by vivid flashes of light; dead silence, then loud claps of thunder. So some minor things were seen or heard, while others, normally more noticeable, were not.

'But to revert: my suspicions that Miss Clifton had engineered the business in the breakfast room were virtually confirmed when, during enquiries in the village, we learnt that a girl answering her description had bought a reel of cobbler's thread there on Saturday afternoon.

'I was then certain there'd been one murderer - and one murderess. When this evening I asked Mr. Deveraux to give me the name of the murderer, and he said Batchev, I knew he'd reached the truth.'

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Future Plans

The next morning Richard and Adler commenced their talks. This time there were no snags, and the desire of each of them for a quick settlement was so great that by five p.m. they had reached full agreement.

Also in the morning, the diamond necklace was dug up by a policeman and restored to a joyful Mrs. Peabody, who immediately insisted on Hiram making out a substantial cheque to the local police benevolent fund.

The Peabodys were to stay on at Alderley for a few more days. Peabody and the Earl decided that Lord Burford should retain both the Bergman Bayards until the return of Trimble Greene, and then take them to New York himself in time for the exhibition. The Countess was to go too, and afterwards the Peabodys were to show them something of America.

Algy had managed to build up a somewhat jumbled picture of the events which had taken place while he was asleep. He came rapidly to the conclusion that two dangerous criminals, recognising in him the chief threat to their nefarious schemes, had both attempted, to kill him, and that only his remarkably tough constitution had saved him. This story he was anxious to spread without delay through London society, and by Tuesday lunchtime he had left.

During all this, one person remained downcast. Gerry was very distressed and worried about Jane. She turned down an invitation to accompany the Earl and Countess to the United States, and spent most of the day quietly by herself.

Then came another invitation. The negotiations over, Adler sought her out and, surprisingly diffidently, suggested she visited the Duchy as his guest while her parents were away.

In spite of everything, Gerry was thrilled. But still she regretfully refused.

'It'll be quite safe,' he assured her, 'thanks to the arrangements your uncle and I have completed today.'

'It's not that, really,' she said. 'Normally it would be wonderful. But I couldn't be happy doing anything like that until I know what happens to Jane.'

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'But I'll keep the invitation open.'

It was just after this that Gerry had a long conversation with Deveraux.

* * *

Deveraux was dressing for dinner when there was a knock and Richard entered. He sat down on the bed, lit a cigarette, and said: 'Guess what?'

Deveraux deftly inserted a cufflink in his dress shirt. He said: 'We're going to be at war before the decade is out.'

'Been listening to Churchill?'

'Yes. Haven't you?'

Slowly Richard nodded. 'Yes. Don't quote me, but I'm afraid he's right. I may say so myself publicly soon.'

'During this war, and in the period leading up to it, my department is going to become more and more important. It's going to expand. I'm lucky enough to have a certain amount of influence in the service, and over the next few years my main task is going to be recruitment. In fact, I've been told that if I find anybody I want, and he's willing, I can have him.'

'Very nice. So?'

Deveraux swung round. 'Last Thursday I met a girl. Since then I've got to know her well, and this evening I made it my business to find out everything I could about her background and history from your niece. I now know that that girl has got every quality and every qualification I'm looking for. She's cool, courageous and resourceful. She's self-confident and highly ingenious. She's intensely loyal, lives by a strict personal code, and I'd swear she's completely trustworthy. She's also pretty ruthless and she's prepared to kill in a good cause. She's strong and fit, and could obviously, even untrained, hold her own in a rough-house. She speaks French and German, and she has no close family. I've no intention of letting a girl like that rot away the best years of her life in penal servitude when she could be doing valuable work for her country.'

'I thought you might mean something like that.'

'Your family has second sight. Lady Geraldine seemed to read my mind quite remarkably.'

'Don't worry: she knows how to keep her mouth shut.'

'Oh, I'm not sorry she guessed - although naturally I couldn't have told her. She cheered up tremendously - then went off to accept some invitation from Adler.'

'How will you get Jane out? If such influence as I have can be any use . . .'

'Thank you, but I don't think it'll be necessary. First, we'll let her serve six to twelve months of her sentence. It'll do her good. She's a bit too arrogant and self-willed at present. She's got to learn to accept discipline - and control her temper. But after that . . .'

Deveraux stood up and put on his coat. 'Well,' he said, 'if you read in the papers that Jane Clifton, serving a life sentence for murder, has died in prison, don't grieve for her. It won't be true.' His face went grave. 'Grieve only if years from now you hear from me that somewhere in Europe an unnamed British woman agent has been executed by firing squad.'

Richard drew at his cigarette. 'And supposing she's not shot? Supposing we fight this war and win it, and Jane comes through it? What then?'

'Then,' said Deveraux, 'if I come through it too, I'm going to marry her.'

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

The Final Mystery

The following morning Richard, Adler and Deveraux left Alderley at the same time. Deveraux and Richard were to drive separately to London, and Adler was to be dropped at the station and from there go home alone, as inconspicuously as he'd come.

The others came out to see the three men off. They were all standing talking, while the servants loaded the luggage into the cars, when another car came up the drive. It stopped and Wilkins got out. 'I thought you'd all be glad to know,' he said, 'that we've just heard Anna Felman's been found safe and well.'

A minute later, while the others were saying good bye to Adler, Deveraux drew Wilkins aside. 'I was going to call in at your station to say so long,' he said. 'It's been quite an experience working with you, old man. I hope cracking this case will do you some good.'

Wilkins sighed deeply. 'It looks as though it might mean promotion.'

'Isn't that good?'

'I suppose so. But it'll likely mean more cases like this one. There seem to be hundreds of them among the English upper classes these days. And I don't really enjoy them. I'd be much happier working on the new one-way traffic system. I'm not sanguine, not sanguine at all. Still, I mustn't bother you with my troubles. What will the case mean to you?'

'Me? Oh, merely memories, Wilkins. I've just got the one memento.' He took from his waistcoat pocket a small woollen object. 'Funny, that's how I'll always think of this business -as the affair of the bloodstained egg cosy.'

'You know, Mr. Deveraux, I suspected you for a while.'

'Did you really? Why?'

'Well, while I believed Batchev had gone through that window, it seemed you'd actually been outside at the same time as him. If you'd had the gun, fitted with a silencer, you'd have had the best chance of anyone to bump him off. You'd have needed an outside accomplice to dump the body in the lake, that's all. But it wasn't long before I ruled you out. Besides, somebody had certainly bopped you on the head—'

'Great Scott!' Deveraux broke in. 'Wilkins - who on earth did it? We were so busy solving the murder, we forgot all about that.'

Wilkins' mouth dropped open. 'Goodness me, so we did. I haven't charged any of them with it.'

'I don't particularly want anyone charged. I've got to know, though. But - I don't see which of them it could have been. Not Thornton. Certainly not Jane. Batchev was dead.'

'Evans, then?'

'It could have been. But why? It doesn't make sense.'

They were standing near Deveraux's car. Nearly everyone else was out of earshot, the sole exception being Merryweather, who had dismissed the footman and was himself strapping Deveraux's luggage onto the rack behind the dickey seat. He turned now and cleared his throat.

'Excuse me, sir. I could not help overhearing your conversation. I am in a position to throw light on the subject.'

Deveraux blinked. 'You, Merryweather? Are you saying you know who hit me?'

'Yes, sir. I regret to say that it was I.'

'You?' Deveraux and Wilkins both goggled at him.

'Yes, sir. If I may be permitted to explain. I was suspicious of you. You will appreciate that I had no means of knowing your true standing. There had been that challenge to the Wraith in the magazine. You were a person virtually unknown to the Family, and appeared to have engineered your invitation. It seemed, if I may use a colloquialism, extremely, er, fishy, and I resolved to keep an eye on you. I watched your room on the Friday night and my suspicions were confirmed when you left lit and prowled around the house in the dark. I decided not to notify his lordship, as, if you denied it, I would have no proof. I was persuaded that on Friday you had been merely rehearsing and that you intended to steal the necklace on the Saturday night. So I followed you again, hoping to catch you in the act. But you simply continued to walk about the house. I thought that perhaps you were going to postpone the theft yet another night. Then, as you neared the top of the stairs, I heard footsteps approaching, which I recognised as being Mr. Richard's. You stopped and extinguished your flashlight. But then to my amazement you went rapidly after him. I immediately concluded that you were not a thief, but a hired assassin. My first thought was to save Mr. Richard. I dared not call out, as I was sure you were armed. So I rushed forward and struck you.'

In a weak voice, Deveraux said: 'With what?'

'With a silver salver, I'm afraid, sir.'

'Most - most apt.'

'Thank you, sir. Fortunately I missed striking a direct blow. Then my own torch failed. I endeavoured to reach the light switch at the same time keeping a firm grip on you. But you were too heavy. I was about to call for help, when you struck me a blow in the abdomen which winded me. Then the other commotion started and my nerve fled. Mr. Richard was by then clearly safe. I retreated down the stairs, brushing against the lady whom later learnt was Mrs. Peabody, and retired to the servants' quarters. The next day I discovered that you were a police officer. I would like to tender my most sincere apologies, sir.'

Deveraux's lips twitched, but he spoke gravely. 'Your apology is accepted, Merryweather.'

'I am gratified, sir. You did, I think, say you did not wish to prefer charges?'

'Quite correct.'

'That, sir, is a great relief to me. Will that be all, sir?'

'Yes,' said Deveraux, 'that will be all. Thank you.'

'Thank you, sir,' said Merryweather.

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