The Judas Kiss (12 page)

"Will your father see to that?" Roger asked.

"No," Peter answered reluctantly. "He thought it best to hand it over to the police. She was not his patient, though he attended her husband after his accident."

"Did he express any opinion to you as to the probable cause of death, or would you rather not tell me?"

"I think, sir, it is better for me not to say anything. I am so terribly sorry for them all."

"I quite understand. My wife and I are going next door to see if there is anything we can do. There was no other case of illness there?"

"No, sir. My father specially asked that. If, if you should see Pearl, would you say I am on surgery this morning but would come round any moment she wanted me."

"I will."

When they entered Sunbay, Pearl saw them and came to meet them.

"You have heard?" she said dully.

"We have," Roger replied.

Ruth kissed her. "We are so very sorry. Is there anything at all we can do?"

"I don't think so. Will you come in and see Emerald?"

"Where are your brothers?" Roger asked.

"Jasper is in London. We telephoned him and he said he would come back at once. Garnet is out at the moment."

They entered the house and Emerald joined them. If Pearl appeared distressed, her sister certainly did not. She was cool and practical.

"Of course it is very shocking," she said, in reply to their words of sympathy. "I think they will find she poisoned herself, though why she did it I cannot imagine."

"Have you any reason for thinking it was poison?" Roger asked.

"What else could it be? Of course I know nothing about medicine but Pearl and I arrived just before she died. There were no wounds or injuries of any kind, no weapon. They had put her on the bed and her eyes looked as they describe them in books. She used to say she had never had a day's illness in her life."

"No heart trouble?"

"Never a sign of it."

"If it was poison, you suggest it was self-administered?"

"I think it must have been," Emerald said. "At first I wondered about food poisoning, but no one else has been ill. She had lunch here and tea at the hotel. She had just dressed for dinner, but had not had any. I suppose there will be an inquest; they may discover something."

"She was not taking medicines of any kind; I mean slimming tablets or things of that sort?"

"I don't think so. She enjoyed her food."

"You cannot suggest any reason, other than an accident, for her ending her life? Please do not think I want to intrude. I am only anxious to help if it is possible."

"You are very kind. You mean had she any motive? I confess it puzzles me. Two things suggested themselves, but neither is very convincing."

"What are they? The police and the Coroner will want to know, provided of course your surmise is right."

"Our father's death was a shock to her, but she was getting over it. I cannot think that would account for her doing away with herself. She had been left remarkably well off." There was a vicious tone in the last words.

"What is the other thing?"

"Well, I suppose it is bound to come out now, so I may as well tell you. The fact is she and my father were not married at all. She entrapped him in some way. They ran off together and just said they were married. Naturally we never doubted it."

She seemed to find some vindictive pleasure in being first with the news. Ruth and Roger were surprised and shocked.

Pearl was silent. After a few moments Roger said, "You are sure of it, they were not married?"

"Quite sure. Jasper by chance met the husband she had left. There was no divorce or anything like that. No time for it. A clean bolt. The husband was a hairdresser in St. Malo. We charged her with it and she admitted it. Didn't she, Pearl?"

Pearl nodded.

This again was considered for a while in silence.

"She told my wife of your father's will," Roger said. "Do you mean, as there was no marriage, she forfeited all interest under it?"

"Very much the reverse," Emerald replied. "Father had worded his will so that she got as much as if she had really been his wife. Possibly more. She had sometimes made hints of propriety to me. I confess I was angry at that when I knew the truth about her."

Ruth remembered her talks with Adelaide about the girls and her reluctance to mention her doubts to their father. In the circumstances that was understandable. An unmarried "step-mother" could not criticise others. Nor could the father have much to say about it. But she was silent. Emerald went on.

"She, of course, was furious at what we had discovered. It might have upset her mental balance; I don't say I believe it. She was not all that sensitive, but I cannot think of anything else."

"Had you, or any of you, threatened to make it known?" Roger asked.

"Certainly not. We had our father's good name to think of. We told her so. We promised that no one should know about it. She did not really care so much about that. What annoyed her was our suggestion that she should at once pay us the money our father said we were to have."

"Did she agree?"

"No. She said she would prefer to be by herself. She would go to the hotel and think it over. Then this happened."

Pearl had been listening but not speaking. She noticed how Emerald had told the truth, but not all of it. She had said nothing about Adelaide's revelation as to their father and mother. Pearl was glad about that. She too would keep the secret.

Before anything more was said the door opened and Garnet came in. He paused; he had not known there were visitors. He looked haggard, as though he had not been sleeping for nights. Roger got up and shook his hand, expressing sympathy at this new tragedy.

"The wages of sin is death," the curate said in a hollow tone. He turned and left the room as abruptly as he had entered it.

The others remained in startled silence for some moments. Then Ruth and Roger thought they had better go.

"Remember we are close at hand," the latter said, "and will only be too glad to help if we can. Of course every thing may be cleared up without trouble, but there may be some unpleasantness for you all, though I hope not."

"I am glad it happened there and not here," Emerald said. Roger did not reply and he and Ruth made their way up the drive. Then Pearl came running after them.

"May I tell you something?"

"Of course, my dear," Ruth said. "Come in with us." She led the way to her sitting-room and insisted that the girl, who looked worn and strained, should have a biscuit and a glass of sherry.

"Now tell us in your own way. There is no hurry."

"I don't believe Adelaide committed suicide," Pearl said. "If she did, it was for reasons Emerald knows nothing about."

"You were on rather better terms with her than the others?" Ruth asked.

"I think I was. She was kind to me and she and Daddy took me for drives with them. But it is not that. The day before yesterday she told me she was going abroad, to places like Vienna and Rome, and asked if I would go with her. She would not have done that if, if she meant to kill herself, would she?"

"It would certainly appear not," Roger said. "What was your reply?"

"I didn't really make one. I wanted time to think about it. But something happened after that, something that surprised me very much."

"Yes?"

"Her husband arrived and asked if he could see her."

"Her husband, the man from St. Malo?"

"Yes. He didn't say he was her husband, but he gave his name, Gaston Bidaut. He was just as Jasper had described. We were alone in the house with Nan. Adelaide said she would see him."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I waited in case I was wanted. After a time he came out alone and drove away. I did not go to Adelaide. I did not want to seem prying. I thought perhaps she would send for me. But I did not see her again until, until she was dying."

"She did not say goodbye?" Ruth asked.

"No. She was only going down the street. I rather kept out of her way because I did not think I wanted to leave everybody and travel with her. I could have seen her at any time but I was a little hurt she did not ask for me. Could her husband have said or done anything to her to make her take her life?"

"I should not think so," Roger said, "though this certainly introduces a new factor into the case. He could offer to take her back; he could threaten an action for the restitution of conjugal rights if she refused, or a divorce. But as she had independent means that would not have much effect. How did she receive him?"

"I do not know. Nan took him to her."

"Let me get it clear. What time was this?"

"After tea. He left her about five o'clock."

"You did not meet her at dinner?"

"No. After the trouble over the will on the day of Daddy's funeral, she had all her meals in her own room."

"And lunch the next day?"

"Yes."

"She had tea at the hotel and died about dinner-time, more than twenty-four hours after her husband left her?"

"Yes. I didn't tell anyone about him. Garnet was out and I thought of writing to Jasper. Then, then she died and I telephoned, just telling him that."

"You did not see her during the day, but, so far as you know, she was her normal self?"

"So far as I know. Nan said she seemed pleased to get away and they told us at the hotel she had tea in the lounge and talked to one or two people there."

"I do not think her husband could have said or done any thing to her to account for what happened.” Roger said thoughtfully. "Of course she could have promised to go back to him later on, though it does not seem likely. It is a queer story and there may still be things we do not know. Why did you not tell your sister about that call?"

"I was so muddled. I wanted to get it clear in my own mind. Emerald and I do not talk much."

"Well, my dear, the police will probably question you. If they do, you must tell them all you have told us."

"I will," Pearl promised.

"I was sorry to see how ill Garnet looked," Ruth remarked. "He seemed very distressed."

"He is," Pearl said. But she thought his distress was from a different cause. Not the unhappy fate of Adelaide, but her story about the parents they had loved so much. Emerald had not mentioned it. Neither would she, not even to these kind friends. But later she was to wish she had.

"I had a message for you from Peter," Roger said. "He was very sorry for you and would come at once if you wanted him."

"Peter. Yes," Pearl murmured. "Thank you."

Then she left them.

THE inquest was fixed for three days later. In the meantime the searches and questionings by the police were painstaking and persistent. Everyone it was thought might throw any light on the matter was interrogated again and again, and all Adelaide's possessions were scrutinised, analysed and expertly overhauled. No statement was issued as to the results achieved.

The Bennions were not approached; they were regarded as strangers in the district. They had no official information as to the progress of the investigations but Roger had his own "grapevine" that kept him fairly well in the know of things. He had no reason to offer his help to the police, and Ruth, although willing to assist their neighbours, hoped he would not become in any way involved. It was bad luck if he could not have a holiday without grim tragedy rearing its ugly head!

Ben Orgles who, with his wife Bessie, had served them for years, had been an airman and a police constable in his earlier days. He had helped Roger in some tough cases and it was hardly likely, when an affair of this sort happened on their threshold, that his interest would not be stimulated.

He had some special qualifications for a case centred round the village inn. He could quaff a quart more quickly than most men and could throw a dart with the best. The saloon bar in the Crompton Arms was the recognised meeting place for the village worthies: it was, in fact, the mainstay of the establishment as the hotel season was so short. Ben had located it directly he arrived and had soon been accepted as a welcome member of its most select circle.

Little happened in the village that was not known and discussed there and he was able to keep Roger informed of the latest reports and rumours. Even the landlord seemed to confide in him.

"You have got friendly very quickly," Roger remarked.

"Yes, sir," Ben said with his usual broad grin. "I started a little competition. They like it and it is good for the 'ouse."

"What is it?"

"Quick ones, sir. Not what you might mean by a quick one though. Everyone who likes can enter by putting a bob in the kitty. Each starts fair with a quart and the one who finishes first, without spilling a drop, takes the pool and another quart on the 'ouse. The barman has a stop-watch and you bang your pot on the table when you're done."

"Who generally wins?"

"Well, sir, I can when I want to, but it wouldn't do not to let the others have a look in sometimes. We don't do it every night but some of 'em like to keep in practice and that 'elps."

"I doubt if our temperance friends would approve. You are putting on weight, Ben."