The Affair of the Thirty-Nine Cufflinks (35 page)

'When did you first realise your mistake?'

'I don't think there was one moment. But one thing about Dorry puzzled me from the start: why she hadn't phoned her sister earlier? I mean, they'd inherited a large fortune, which was going to transform their lives. The first thing she'd want to do would be call her sister and tell her. OK, immediately after she learned about it, she was distracted by Clara's tantrum, and had to go up and try and calm her down. But even when she'd done that it couldn't have been much more than six o'clock at the latest. Agatha was (supposedly) going to a party in the evening, but Dorry had an hour or two in which she could have at least tried to get in touch with her. But she didn't. The same thing applies at the end of the evening: you can't be sure what time a person is going to get home after a party, but in such a situation I'd certainly ring them at about eleven or half past - and keep trying. But she stayed with you - as, of course, she had to — all the time. It did sow the seed in my mind that perhaps she wasn't being entirely above board with me.'

'Yes, I thought it was odd. But nothing more than that, of course, at that stage.'

'There was something else: Agatha referred to the killer having held a pillow over her stepmother's face. As far as I could discover, she had never been told it was a pillow. Of course, it's a reasonable assumption, but it could just as easily have been a cushion or a towel or something. I decided at the time it was probably just a lucky guess. I was still working on the belief that the murderer was one of the other beneficiaries. After I'd interviewed them, I knew that most of them had lied to me, the possible exceptions being Miss Mackenzie and Penelope. But I was sure that all of them were capable of having done it. I was already fairly certain, from the way she spoke, that Stella was an impostor. I didn't believe Tommy's story about the armour for a moment and the fact that it gave him an alibi for the time of Stella's intruder made me virtually sure that that was him. He was the only one who'd known her at all well years previously and I wondered if he had spotted she was a fake and was trying to prove it. The stealing of the toothpaste clearly suggested something to do with her teeth, but that's as far as I was able to take it. I'd marked Timothy down as the likely source of the postcard, as soon as I learnt who Dora Lethbridge was. It occurred to me that the use of the word "Miss" was meant to indicate she had never been married, and there was a subtlety about that which suggested a lawyer to me. I couldn't think, though, that he'd leave the card
and
scatter the cufflinks, so that left Gregory as the likely culprit as regards them. Anyway, that was the position when we left here yesterday lunchtime.'

'So what did you do the rest of the day? What were those enquiries you were pursuing elsewhere?'

'I sent Jack up to London. First of all he went to Somerset House and obtained a copy of Clara's birth certificate, which showed that she was almost certainly illegitimate. I also wanted to see what Timothy's block lettering was like, and I thought the best source would be some official form he had filled out. I phoned the Passport Office, asked them to look him up and ten minutes later they rang back to say that he had made an application for a passport a few years previously. I asked them to do a photostat of it and informed them that my sergeant would pick it up. I'd told Jack to phone after he'd finished at Somerset House and I left instructions at headquarters for them to tell him to go and get the photostat. Then I went up to Worcestershire.'

He told her what he had told Julie the previous day. He went on: 'By then I'd confirmed many of my suspicions and theories but I still didn't know for sure who the murderer was. I'd ruled out Miss Mackenzie and Penelope, and almost, but not quite, ruled out Tommy and Stella. That left Timothy and Gregory. All the time, though, at the back of my mind those two little facts about the sisters - the delayed phone call and Agatha's knowing about the pillow - must have been nagging away. I woke up thinking about them yesterday morning. It was the phone call that worried me most. I was on my way to work, asking myself, "Why didn't she call earlier?" And then it suddenly hit me. There was a possible reason - that Dorry had already spoken to her sister, face to face. Which would mean Agatha had been in the house all along. I realised how she could have got in unobserved and where she could have hidden.'

Gerry gave a grimace. Actually in the room with me! And I didn't have a clue.'

'No way you could have, Lady Geraldine. Anyway, that left the question of the early morning phone call - obviously necessary because there had to be a record of a call to their home: it would be unthinkable that Dorry wouldn't phone her
eventually
. And, of course, Agatha had had to go home after the murder, in order to answer it.'

'It also gave her a sort of alibi, didn't it? I bet that if you'd made enquiries in Hampstead, you'd have found a neighbour or postman or milkman who saw her leaving in a hurry on her motor-bike early that morning.'

'More than likely. But this all meant that the call could have been very brief — just long enough for Dorry to tell her that nothing untoward had happened since Agatha had left and that she could start back straight away. I wondered if it was possible that they had slipped up and forgotten to make the call long enough. I turned round and went straight to the telephone exchange. They showed me their records, and there it was: call from Alderley 1 to their Hampstead number, starting at 7.09 a.m., lasting for 11 seconds.'

'And that's when you knew Agatha was guilty.'

'Not knew. She was now obviously a very strong suspect, but so were Timothy and Gregory. That's why I needed them all present when we went through the events of the night, as that might show up some blatant discrepancies in someone's story which would clearly point to his guilt. But actually it didn't. When I finally got Timothy and Gregory, as well as Tommy, to tell the whole truth, their accounts dovetailed remarkably well. And that was when I knew.'

'Marvellous,' Gerry said. 'But you say you didn't work out how Agatha could have done it until you were actually on your way to work yesterday morning. What time was that?'

'Oh, around eight-fifteen, I suppose. Why do you ask?'

Gerry looked smug. 'Because that means I beat you to it, by about four hours.'

'Really? Congratulations, Lady Geraldine.'

'You see, Aggie made one other mistake. I didn't spot it at the time, though I knew there was
something
. About four o'clock, I woke up and remembered what it was. When she first arrived, Aggie spent about a quarter of an hour with us. Then she said she'd like to go up to her room and asked which one it was. Mummy told her. She said that after she'd freshened up she'd go and see Dorry.
But she didn't ask which was Dorry's room
. Of course, she could have asked one of the servants, but the natural thing would have been to ask the location of both rooms at the same time. I wondered if Dorry could have told her when they spoke on the phone. But it was inconceivable to me that, with everything else on her mind, she would have mentioned that. Can you imagine it? "Oh, Aggie, Mother's been murdered, and we've come into sixty-five thousand pounds, and I've got a nice room, almost opposite the top of the stairs"? I thought to myself that the obvious explanation for Aggie's not asking where Dorry's room was, was that she already knew. And then, just like you, everything came to me in a flash. All those unidentified ladies in black veils at the funeral, free to roam the house during the afternoon. So easy just to stay behind when everyone else had left. Only where I was stupid was at first it didn't occur to me that Dorry had been in it from the start. I imagined she'd only discovered afterwards what Aggie had done, and had simply been covering up for her. I just had to go and see Dorry at once and confront her. But before I'd got out more than a few words - wham. After that, as they say, I knew no more.'

'Well, you did very well, Lady Geraldine. You've got the natural makings of a detective. I'm just sorry you weren't in at the dénouement.'

'No, no, it was horrible seeing people being arrested the other times and I would have hated to see it happen to Aggie and Dorry. You know, for a while earlier today I found myself feeling quite sorry for Dorothy and worrying about her.'

'Oh, I shouldn't worry too much about that young woman.'

Something about his tone made Gerry glance at him sharply. 'Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Mr Wilkins?'

'What would that be, Lady Geraldine?'

'Well, she seems such a natural victim, a pushover for anyone who wants to use her or manipulate her. And apparently being virtually blackmailed by Clara over this guilty secret - and I suppose we've all got a pretty good idea of what that must have been. But I can't help remembering that hour or two when she and I were together downstairs. She seemed really happy, and totally engrossed by all I had to tell her about the other cases. And yet she knew that at that very time her sister was murdering their stepmother.'

'She says she never believed Aggie would go through with it.'

'But she knew Aggie was
planning
it, and at the very least there was a chance she'd do it. Even when we first met here, after the funeral, she virtually arranged that she and I should stay down and have a chat after everyone else had gone to bed. And when the time came, she made sure she was with me every second. Yet, she didn't seem even slightly anxious. And later, going on about how she would always be grateful to Clara. Aggie at least wasn't a hypocrite. But Dorry could have stopped the murder, as soon as she knew about the inheritance, which was obviously going to change everything - just told Agatha it was off, and Agatha could have walked out of the house, pretending to be one of the funeral guests, who had lost count of the time. Again, when I knocked on Dorry's door and called out that I had to speak to her about the murder, Aggie must have got an inkling I was on to something and gone behind the door immediately. Didn't Dorry wonder why? Didn't she see her pick up the statuette? No, I'm sure she knew just what Aggie was going to do. Then, helping Agatha carry me in here, putting me to bed and leaving me, without attempting to let anybody know. I could have died in those four hours before Marie found me unconscious.'

Wilkins nodded. 'And then she let Agatha take all the blame, and after she's killed she's only really concerned about what's going to happen to her, and she wouldn't get a long sentence, would she? No doubt within a few months she'll have a cell to herself, she'll be a trusty with all sorts of privileges, and all the wardresses will be saying what a pity it is that such a nice, ladylike, gentle person should have to be there.'

'And I suppose in a year or two she'll be out. With sixty-five thousand pounds in the bank - plus interest.'

'Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that. When it comes to trial, I'll emphasise all the points we've just made, as I'm sure the prosecutor will. Miss Dorry could be in for quite a shock. She won't do life, of course. I don't say she deserves to. I don't believe she planned the murder - that
was
sister Aggie's work. But she's not the used innocent she pretends. I reckon about eight years would be satisfactory, from my point of view.'

'I just hope you're right,' Gerry said, fingering the back of her head.

Chapter Forty-Three

'Well, Wilkins, we have to thank you yet again,' said Lord Burford, when the Chief Inspector was saying his good-byes.

'We are greatly in your debt,' added the Countess.

'Not at all, your ladyship. Very pleased to have been of service. A complex case. But its occurrence here not such a coincidence as your lordship at first assumed.'

'How d'you mean?'

'Agatha had decided to kill her stepmother whenever the opportunity arose. The funeral provided the first such opportunity. And the funeral would not have taken place here had it not been for the earlier crimes. It was those murders that made Miss Mackenzie so eager to conduct her experiment here and tell her little fib about your great aunt's wishes. So the location of this crime resulted directly from the earlier ones. It was a simple matter of cause and effect.'

The Earl nodded. 'Yes, I see. Good point.'

'And I have to say that in one respect this was the most satisfying case I have ever handled.'

'Really? What respect was that?'

'For the first time in my life I was able to tell both a Member of Parliament and a King's Counsel to shut up.' A quite dreamy expression came over his face. 'It was a moment I shall long remember and cherish.'

Lord Burford chuckled. 'So shall I, Wilkins, so shall I.'

* * *

When Wilkins had left, the Countess said: 'George, it's wonderful about Geraldine, but it's almost as good that you seem quite your old self, too. I was so worried about you.'

'Worried about
me
? Why?'

'Well, you were behaving extremely oddly: picking bunches of nettles, carrying spare socks around with you, making purple ink, burying things outside.'

'Oh. That. Yes. I see.' He looked decidedly embarrassed.

'What were you up, to, George?'

He coughed. 'Well, suppose I can tell you now. Fact is, I was trying to break the curse.'

'What curse?'

'That old gypsy's curse. Thought perhaps all these dreadful things happenin' here, might be something in it, after all. Found this old book about folklore in the library. Lots in it about black magic. Full of ways you can undo or nullify curses and hexes. Some of 'em quite disgustin', actually. But some of the others didn't seem it would do any harm to try. One of them was to take a lot of nettles, cut them up into small pieces and stuff them into things they call poppets - sort of effigies, made of cloth. Best I could do was a pair of old socks. Then you bury them one each side of the porch. Another was to put a lot of bent pins or nails into glass jars and bury them as well. Then there was one where you take a purple candle, write "All blocks are now removed" in reverse on a strip of paper, fold it round the candle and then let it burn out. Only I didn't have a purple candle, so I dipped an ordinary one in purple ink. Then some say you've got to rub oil of rosemary on it, and I didn't have any of that, either.'