Read The Affair of the Bloodstained Egg Cosy Online
Authors: James Anderson
Tags: #Fiction, #Police Procedural, #Mystery & Detective
'Now, if possible. If he says yes to the search, bring him straight back and, unless I tip you the wink to the contrary, try to get him to take you straight up to their rooms without speaking to his wife and start right away.'
'What'll I be looking for?'
'You'll know when you find it.'
'And suppose he says no?'
'Don't push it.'
'All right, old man, I'll play along. But I'm not promising success. Why can't you ask him, by the way?'
'Because at the same time I shall be asking Mrs. Peabody precisely the same question. You only search if she says no to me.'
* * *
Deveraux achieved his end by the simple process of approaching Peabody when the latter was sitting on the terrace reading a copy of
The Wall Street Journal
which had arrived for him that morning, and saying ingenuously: 'Mr. Peabody, would you care to give me your views on this whole affair?'
Peabody was nothing loath. 'Sit down, son,' he said and waved to a chair.
'Well, sir, I've been sitting down most of the day. What do you say to a stroll round the lake while we talk?'
'Suits me.' Peabody got to his feet and they set off across the lawn.
The millionaire seemed positively eager to discuss the case, and was in no doubt that the murders and the theft of necklace and guns were connected. 'It's simply too much of a coincidence for all those things to have happened just about the same time, purely by chance,' he said.
'I tend to agree with you,' Deveraux said.
'Would I be breaching professional etiquette if I asked whether you're satisfied that one of the people presently at Alderley is implicated?'
'It's an inevitable conclusion.'
'And you've no doubt got your own ideas as to who it is?'
'Ideas, yes. Certainty, no.'
'But you won't want to be cluttered up with other guys' theories?'
'If you've got any theories I'd be glad to hear them.'
'Off the record?'
'Certainly.'
'Then if you ask me, Felman's your man.'
'Why do you say so?'
'He's not behaving naturally. He hasn't from the start. He's jumpy - on his guard all the time.'
'He's worried about his sister, of course.'
'Granted. But he's also worded about himself. I can feel it. Then again, what do you really know about him? It seems to me everyone else here has got a well-authenticated background. But nobody here knew a thing about him before last Thursday. He arrived here with Batchev. It seems to me he's the only one likely to have a motive.'
'Our problem is getting evidence. If we could only search his room, now . . .'
'Why don't you?'
'We don't know how he'd take the suggestion. He might try to claim diplomatic immunity; and the government wouldn't want us to press too hard. I'll tell what, sir: you might be able to help us in this.'
'How?'
'You're in more or less the same position as Felman. You're not a diplomat, but you are a distinguished foreign visitor. If we were to ask you for permission to search your rooms, and you agreed, then it would make it that much more difficult for Felman to refuse. How about it?'
'Say, look at that squirrel,' Peabody exclaimed.
'Deveraux glanced in the direction he was pointing. 'Oh yes.'
'Interesting creatures. You interested in wild life, Deveraux?'
'Not particularly. About this search . . . ?'
'Oh, the search. Er, when would you want to do it?'
'As soon as possible.'
'I see. Well, it's like this. I'd rather you didn't. Not today, anyway. It's Mrs. Peabody - she wouldn't be at all keen to have strangers poking through her things. Of course, if it were really necessary, I could probably talk her into it, but I'd need time. Do you understand?'
'Of course.'
'That's mighty accommodating of you. Shall we start back now? My doctor doesn't like me to walk too far.'
Deveraux glanced at his watch. 'By all means,' he said.
* * *
'Why, yes, of course, Mr. Wilkins, you go right ahead and search to your heart's content.'
'Thank you, Mrs. Peabody. That's very obliging of you. I should really obtain your husband's permission, too, but he doesn't seem to be around, and it is rather urgent.'
'That's quite all right. Hiram would say the same as me. I'm sure we've nothing to hide. And you're welcome to do anything which might help get my necklace back.'
'Then shall we go up?'
'Oh, you want me with you?'
'If you please, madam.'
They went upstairs and while Mrs. Peabody stood placidly by, Wilkins and Leather began a search of the suite.
It was in Peabody's dressing room that they found it.
Wilkins was standing on tiptoe, trying to feel it there was anything on top of the wardrobe. His groping fingers touched something that moved, but he just wasn't tall enough to get hold of it.
He called: 'Jack.'
Leather came across and easily lifted down a small suitcase.
Carrie Peabody said: 'Those are just souvenirs of our trip -curios we've bought all over Europe. Do open it.'
Leather did so. He lifted out a number of ornaments, and then came to a folded Spanish shawl. Wrapped in it he could feel something hard and bulky. He unfolded it. Resting inside was an engraved Bergman Bayard pistol.
Wilkins gave a sigh of satisfaction, at the same moment casting a sharp glance at Mrs. Peabody. On her face was an expression of blank astonishment.
'Well, madam?' Wilkins said.
She spoke in a whisper. That's - that's Lord Burford's gun?'
Wilkins nodded. 'Can you explain how it happens to be here?'
'No.' Her face was white. 'I don't - I can't understand it. I - he must have brought it ba - brought it here.'
'Lord Burford?'
'Yes.'
'You say he planted his own gun in your suitcase?'
She gulped. 'I don't want to say anything else until I've spoken to my husband.'
'I think perhaps you're wise, Mrs. Peabody. I'll want a few words with him myself when he turns up. But now I must go and show this to his lordship.'
* * *
'In Peabody's room!' Lord Burford's eyes bulged.
'Yes, my lord.'
'But what the blue blazes was it doing there?'
'I don't know. It is definitely your genuine Bergman, my lord? Not a replica?'
'No doubt about it. But what does Peabody say?'
'I haven't seen him since, my lord. Mrs. Peabody — '
'What about her?'
'She claims you must have put it there yourself, my lord.'
'What?'
'Of course, the idea of your lordship hiding one of your guns in the luggage of one of your guests is quite absurd, but I had to put it to you as a matter of form. So if your lordship will kindly give me a formal denial, we can get on.' Wilkins stopped and waited expectantly. Seconds passed. 'Er - my lord?' Still Lord Burford didn't speak. 'Are you all right, my lord?'
'I've got nothing to say.'
'Nothing at all, my lord?'
'Not until I've seen my solicitor.'
'As you wish, my lord. Then I wonder if I could trouble you once more for the key of the collection room. I want to have another look round in there after I've seen Mr. Peabody.'
* * *
Peabody stared. He opened his mouth. Then he closed it again. He gulped. 'I'm not saying anything,' he said.
'Nothing at all, sir?'
'No. I want to see an attorney first.'
'I see, sir. That's your privilege.' Peabody walked off.
'Well, well, well, well, well,' said Wilkins. Then he trotted off to the collection room.
* * *
'Did you expect to find the gun there?' Deveraux asked, after Wilkins had told him everything that had happened.
'I'm always ready for anything, Mr. Deveraux. Now you can do me another favour, if you'll be so kind.'
Deveraux eyed him suspiciously. 'What's that?'
'Search Lord Burford's study.'
'You - you mean without his knowledge?'
'That's right.'
'You're joking.'
'No.'
'I can't do that! Suppose he caught me?'
'Leather will be placed in a strategic position where he can see if his lordship approaches. He will then rush excitedly up and say that I want to see him on a matter of the utmost urgency.'
'What'll you tell him then?'
'Let me worry about that.'
'Why can't I worry about it and you search?'
'Because I can't search without either his permission or a warrant. I can't see him giving me permission at present, and a warrant to search an Earl's premises wouldn't be got quickly. But you're not bound by the same regulations as me. And you're a guest here.'
'That makes it worse!'
'Look, Mr. Deveraux, we're trying to solve two murders. We can't afford to be squeamish.'
'You really think there's something in the Earl's study that'll help solve the murders?'
'Not exactly.' Wilkins tugged at his ear. 'Just something that's going to help complete the overall picture.'
'You talk as though the case were nearly over, and that you only had a couple of minor points to clear up.'
'Yes, I think that's true.'
Deveraux gaped at him. 'What on earth do you mean?'
'That you're quite right - there are still a few minor points to clear up.'
'A few!'
'Yes. It's been a very complicated business. Even now I can't explain every feature of it. I don't expect to. Hercule Poirot always says that when trying to solve a mystery, any theory you evolve must explain each isolated fact and happening: they've all got to fit into a harmonious pattern with no loose ends. Of course, I'm not in the same class as him - though they do say I look a bit like him - and I can never get that far. At the end of a case there's nearly always something left unaccounted for. But as long as I can explain the main outline of the crime and provide proof of guilt, I'm happy. I'm not an ambitious man.'
'Let me get this straight.' Deveraux spoke very slowly. 'Are you telling me you know who the murderer is?'
'I think so. Of course, I may be quite wrong. It wouldn't be the first time. But to me one person seems pretty clearly indicated.'
'But for the love of Mike - who?'
'If you don't mind I'd rather not say until I've got a bit more evidence. I don't want to look silly if I'm wrong.'
'But - I thought you were baffled.' Deveraux sounded quite stunned.
'I was. I still am about certain things. But you can help me towards getting most of it sorted out by a search of Lord Burford's study. So how about it? Will you oblige?'
Deveraux gulped. 'I'll do it,' he said. 'What will I be looking for?'
'You'll know—'
'Don't say it: I'll know when I find it. OK, let's get it over with.'
* * *
Twenty minutes later Deveraux entered the music room, Wilkins looked up. 'Well?'
Deveraux brought a hand from behind his back. In it was a white silk handkerchief and in the handkerchief was an engraved Bergman Bayard pistol.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Inspector Wilkins Turns Poet
Deveraux said: 'Tucked down inside the armchair.'
An expression of pure self-satisfaction spread over Wilkins' face. 'I knew it,' he said. 'Mr. Deveraux, I deduced that that had to be there. That was pure reasoning, that was.'
'Old man, you have my heartiest congratulations. But how many more of these bally things are there hanging around?'
'No more. There were just the four - a pair of originals and a pair of replicas. This is the second replica. And if we find the fingerprints on this one that I expect to, I'll be a happy man. May I have it?' He took the pistol and handkerchief carefully from Deveraux. 'Thank you. I'll return your hanky later. I'm going away now. I've got to dig out a few more facts. I'll be back late this evening, and I hope then we can make an arrest. I'd like you to get everybody gathered in the drawing room at around nine-thirty. Perhaps you and I can meet here at, say, quarter-to, for a confab?'
'Any instructions for me in the interim, chief?'
'I don't think so. You can spend the time thinking. Keep an open mind and I'm sure you'll reach the same conclusion as me.'
'Wilkins, you couldn't give me a teeny weeny clue, could you?'
'You know, Mr. Deveraux, I thought you'd ask that. And I was working on a reply while I was waiting for you. All the following factors are important pointers. Ready?'
Deveraux nodded.
'Then listen carefully.' Wilkins cleared his throat, and to Deveraux's amazement declaimed:
'Mr. Deveraux's hearing,
Lady Geraldine's sight,
Miss Clifton's keen nostril,
Batchev's sudden flight,
Lord Burford's collection,
Mr. Wilkins's height,
And last but not least,
The weather that night.
I've written it down for you. Here. See you later. So long.'
* * *
After the departure of Wilkins, the rest of the day passed slowly. The most notable event was the awakening of Algy Fotheringay. This, according to the footman who had been detailed to sit with him, took place at four o'clock. Algy opened his eyes, yawned, saw the footman, and said: 'Morning. Would you get me some tea, please?'
But by the time the tea had arrived, he had turned over on his side and gone back to sleep. Shortly after, Dr. Ingleby had called again. This time, after some effort, he managed to keep Algy awake. When Ingleby had gone, and with Algy sitting groggily up in bed drinking cup after cup of tea, Jane and Gerry stayed with him and very carefully and gently tried to explain to him just what had been happening during his coma. Perhaps not surprisingly, he seemed to have difficulty in taking it in, and the effort needed all the girls' patience.
At dinner which, in view of Deveraux's request for a nine-thirty gathering, was taken at eight, the atmosphere was constrained; the imminent return of Wilkins hung like a cloud over everyone and conversation was stilted. Algy, up and dressed, still seemed in a half-trance, and kept asking where the Baroness had gone.
* * *
Deveraux was waiting in the music room when Wilkins and Leather got back. Wilkins came in and flopped into a chair. 'My, we've had a hectic few hours, haven't we Jack?'