Terror by Gaslight (21 page)

‘Do the doctors let you talk to her?’

‘She demands to see me, in order to brag about her crimes. She admits killing Grace Butters, who she calls “a silly old woman, too feeble to stand up for herself”.’

Steele shook his head thoughtfully. ‘Do you think she might escape the gallows on the grounds of insanity?’

‘Quite possibly,’ said Willoughby. ‘Since the M’Naghten ruling, courts are making many more allowances for mental disturbance.’

He was referring to the case of Daniel M’Naghten, a Scottish carpenter who, some years earlier, had shot dead Sir Robert Peel’s secretary under the delusion that he was assassinating Peel himself. He claimed he thought the Prime Minister had been out to kill him. He escaped the death penalty, when his counsel convinced the court that M’Naghten suffered from other delusions as well, and was not responsible for his actions at the time of the killing. After that, it was accepted as a possible defence that some people can suffer from monomania, a form of madness that causes occasional bouts of homicidal hysteria, while leaving the
individual intellectually sound. It was a defence of which the police, and many of the public, did not approve.

Steele was familiar with the rule.

‘The M’Naghten Rule applied to a single homicide, did it not? Miss Austin killed several times.’

The inspector sniffed. He was clearly one of those who didn’t care for the current trend.

‘I’ve no doubt a clever lawyer could argue that the condition could be recurrent,’ he said. ‘Anyway, two medical experts are to examine the woman next week.’

‘I hope they may be merciful,’ said Steele. ‘The poor wretch has been much ill-used.’

‘I shall do nothing to send her to the hangman,’ Willoughby assured him. ‘I am content that no more young men will be murdered on the Heath. At least, not by Clare Austin.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Now, gentlemen, to a more pleasant topic. The younger sister.’ He glanced at Mason. ‘I understand you have been looking after her.’

Steele intervened. ‘Mrs Mason has. Jack himself has been relaxing in hospital. There’s a nurse there he’s much attracted to.’

Mason ignored the jibe. ‘Yes, Emily has been treating Harriet like a daughter. She’ll be sorry to say goodbye to her.’

‘Miss Austin is moving today to a more permanent home,’ Steele explained. ‘We’ve managed to trace her mother’s brother, Richard Cresswell, living in Richmond and unaware of his niece’s problems. He’s delighted to have her join his family. And he’ll be here to collect her shortly.’

Willoughby was a kindly man and he smiled with genuine pleasure. ‘Ah! A happy outcome indeed!’

‘Which we hope may become even happier. Cresswell is in touch with Harriet’s mother in Australia, where she has a gentleman friend. He thinks they may come to England and marry, now Austin’s dead. So, in due course, the girl may
experience the novelty of having loving parents around her.’

The hall door was knocked and opened, and a uniformed policeman came in. He addressed the inspector.

‘Excuse me, sir. The postman just delivered this letter for Miss Clare Austin. Sergeant Atkins thought you would want to deal with it.’

‘Quite right, Constable. It may contribute to our investigation.’ Willoughby nodded at Steele. ‘This may give us some clue as to the girl’s state of mind.’ He took the proffered letter, produced a penknife from his pocket, slit the envelope, and produced a folded sheet of notepaper. As he pulled it out, a smaller piece of paper fluttered to the floor.

‘Hello,’ said Willoughby, ‘that looks like a cheque.’ He picked it up, and it
was
a cheque.

Steele’s mind raced. ‘Good Lord! I wonder …’ He paused. ‘What does the letter say?’

Willoughby read it aloud.

‘What’s all this about?’

Steele’s face wore a sad smile as he answered. ‘The girl aspired to be a writer. She told us she had sent her first story to
The Strand
.’ His eye fell on the letter-heading. ‘Good heavens! Look what her story’s called!’

‘Tell me.’

‘The Hand of Justice.’ Steele gave a little mirthless laugh. ‘Life has its cruel ironies, has it not?’

Ever practical, Mason asked, ‘What happens to the letter and cheque now, sir?’

Willoughby took the letter back from Steele. ‘They are not relevant to our inquiries, so I shall hand them to Miss Austin in one of her more lucid moments. She is not yet a convicted felon, so she is entitled to receive mail. And money, of course.’

‘Rather too late,’ Steele observed. ‘Still, perhaps it may be some consolation to the poor creature. Her wretched life has not been without some worthwhile achievement.’

The constable had been standing respectfully silent, but he now gave a discreet little cough, and spoke up.

‘I have another message, sir.’

‘Yes, Phillips?’

‘Miss Harriet Austin asked me to let these gentlemen know that she’s done her packing. When she returns from the garden, she’ll be ready to leave.’

Willoughby was astonished. ‘The garden? In this weather? What the devil is she doing out there?’

‘I couldn’t quite follow, sir. Something about a rabbit.’

‘Hm. Well, women do strange things. Thank you, Phillips.’

Constable Phillips withdrew, and Willoughby turned a puzzled face towards Steele. ‘What on earth would induce the girl to go out in the garden on a day like this?’

Steele’s reply was somewhat self-satisfied. The blackcurrant wine had made him quite mellow. ‘I think she may be reacting to a discussion we had on the way here.’

‘Oh, the lost cat!’ said Mason. He told the inspector about Austin’s cruel hoax.

‘Good gracious!’ said Willoughby. ‘That actually happened, did it? Clare Austin described it in one of her mad ravings. I thought she might be fantasizing.’

‘No, it really happened,’ Steele confirmed. ‘And after that the cat, Ella, disappeared, to Harriet’s great distress. Today I realized where the creature might be found.’

‘Another of your theories,’ said Willoughby, with a hint of mockery.

‘My dear chap, I prefer to think of it as deduction,’ Steele purred. ‘Obviously, Austin will have set out to kill his daughter’s pet rather than just pretend to do so. But Ella saw him coming, sensed the man’s evil intentions, and fled the house.’

‘A sensible thing to do,’ Willoughby observed.

‘Very sensible,’ Steele agreed. ‘She will have needed a refuge. She must have felt cold and unloved,’ he continued. ‘In need of comforting.’

‘I know the feeling,’ said Willoughby. He took another swig of whisky.

‘She will have sought a friend. And today, in the cab, Harriet told us how her cat loved to play with Herbert, her rabbit, and Freddie, her guinea pig.’

‘The guinea pig’s gone,’ said Mason.

‘So he has,’ said Steele. ‘But his abandoned hutch will still be there, with a strong scent of Freddie left behind. I suggested Harriet might look inside.’

At this moment they saw Harriet coming up the garden path cradling a cat in one arm and carrying a straw basket with the other. Above the rim of the basket two furry ears could be seen. Mason jumped up and opened the garden door and she came in, glowing with happiness.

‘You were right, Major!’ she declared. ‘Ella was playing with Herbert in Freddie’s old cage. They’d torn back the wire so they could get in and out. Thank you a million times! Now I can take them both to Uncle Richard’s!’

‘Let’s hope Uncle Richard is an animal lover,’ said Mason.

‘He should be,’ said Steele. ‘He’s a vet.’ He turned to Inspector Willoughby. ‘Make that four cases concluded this week, George.’

The Shadow of Treason