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Authors: Georgette Heyer

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Traditional, #General, #Traditional British

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BOOK: Death in the Stocks
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'Then Poltmore is probably the name of her house,' said Antonia. 'I call Pansy a perfectly rotten name for a dog.'

At this point Giles intervened. 'This would be done more expeditiously if Miss Rivers told the Superintendent what he wants to know and you two kept quiet,' he said.

'Well, don't forget the copper-headed wench,' said Kenneth, getting up and strolling over to the fireplace. 'She came with Tommy, and appeared to regret it.' He selected a pipe from the rack on the mantelpiece and began to fill it from an earthenware jar of tobacco. By the time it was alight Leslie had come to the end of her list, and the Superintendent was jotting down the last name in his notebook. Kenneth puffed for a moment, and then said: 'And now, if you've no objection, when did my halfbrother shoot himself?'

'Your half-brother, Mr Vereker, was shot sometime last night - probably before midnight, but on that point I have as yet no certain information.'

'And the weapon?'

'The weapon was a Colt .32 automatic pistol.' Kenneth's brows lifted. 'It was, was it? Where's your gun, Tony?'

She looked startled, saw the hint of a frown in Giles Carrington's eyes, and said jerkily: 'What are you driving at? I didn't shoot Roger!'

'Nobody said you did, my child. Where is it?'

'In the top left-hand drawer of my bureau.'

He moved towards the bureau. 'I'm willing to bet it isn't.'

'Well, this time you'd lose,' retorted Antonia. 'I happen to know it's there, because I had it out and oiled it that day we spring-cleaned this room.'

Kenneth opened the drawer, and turned over the papers in it. 'I win,' he said. 'Think again.'

'But I know I put it there!' said Antonia, growing rather pale. 'Under the used cheques. Leslie, you were here: don't you remember?'

'I remember you oiling it, but I don't think I saw you put it away,' said Leslie. 'Try the right-hand drawer, Kenneth.'

'Not there either,' said Kenneth.

'I am utterly positive I put it in the left-hand drawer!' stated Antonia. She got up, and went to the bureau, and turned the contents of the drawer upside down. Then she said in rather a frightened voice: 'No, it isn't there. Someone's taken it.'

'You're quite sure you didn't move it later, and forget about it?' Giles asked.

'Yes. It always lives in my bureau. I'll look, but I know I never moved it.'

'I shouldn't bother,' said Kenneth.

Hannasyde said quietly: 'Did anyone other than your brother and Miss Rivers know where you kept your pistol, Miss Vereker?'

'Oh yes, lots of people!'

'Can you be a little more precise?' he asked.

'Anyone who knew the flat well. You did, for instance, didn't you, Giles?'

'Yes, I knew you kept it in your bureau, Tony. I think it was nay suggestion. But didn't I also suggest a lock and key?'

'I daresay you did, but I lost the key ages ago, and anyway I never remembered to keep it locked up.'

'Do you think your half-brother knew, Miss Vereker?'

She reflected. 'Roger? I should think he must have found out, because he told me himself he'd been through my bureau to see if I kept any money there. Kenneth, is that what you're driving at? Do you think Roger took it?'

'Yes, of course I do,' replied Kenneth. 'My friend-the Superintendent, on the other hand, thinks I took it.'

Hannasyde paid no heed to this, but merely asked Antonia if she knew the number of the pistol.

'On your licence, Tony,' prompted Giles. 'Can you lay your hand on that?'

'It's sure to be somewhere in my desk,' she said hopefully.

Exhaustive search, in which she was aided by Kenneth, Giles and Leslie Rivers, at last brought the Arms Licence to light. She gave it triumphantly to Hannasyde, apologising at the same time for its somewhat dilapidated appearance. She said that dogs got hold of it once when Juno was a puppy.

Hannasyde noted down the number of the pistol, gave her back the licence, and prepared to depart. Kenneth stopped him. 'How serious are you in thinking that this may not have been suicide, friend Osric?' he demanded.

'You have reminded me yourself that I am not a Vereker,' replied Hannasyde. 'I don't joke on such matters.'

'Some reason up your sleeve for thinking it murder?'

'Yes,' said Hannasyde. 'Several reasons. Is there anything else you would like to know?'

'Certainly there is,' answered Kenneth, a trifle unexpectedly. 'I want very much to know who, after me, is the next heir.'

His words produced a surprised silence. Hannasyde broke it. 'That is hardly my province,' he said.

'I hate to contradict you,' said Kenneth, 'but it is very much your province. If this was murder, I look like being the next victim. And, frankly, I don't fancy myself in the part. I want police protection, please.'

Chapter Twenty

The Superintendent looked at him for a moment, under slightly frowning brows. It was Antonia who spoke. 'But aren't I the next heir?' she asked. 'Giles, aren't I?'

'I'm not sure, Tony. Your father didn't visualise the deaths of all three sons when he made his Will. You may be.'

'What of it?' said Kenneth blandly.

Antonia said, with feeling: 'You beast, Kenneth!'

'If you are serious in wanting police protection no doubt you will get it, upon application to the proper quarter,' said Hannasyde. 'Meanwhile, I should like to see your maid - Murgatroyd —- please.'

'That ought to be good value,' observed Kenneth, and lounged over to the door, and called to Murgatroyd.

She came at once, and, upon being told that the Superintendent wanted to speak to her, confronted him with undisguised hostility in her eyes. 'Well?' she said. 'No need to tell me something's happened: I can see that.'

'You'd never guess what, though,' said Kenneth. 'Roper's dead.'

She looked quickly from one to the other of them. 'Dead?' she repeated. 'You're not making game of me, are you, Master Kenneth?'

'Ask my friend-the-Superintendent,' he shrugged.

She drew in her breath in a hissing sound through her teeth. 'Well, that's a surprise, I will say. Dead! And drunk at the time, I'll be bound. And no loss, either - though I'm sure I didn't wish him as much harm as that.' She glanced at Hannasyde. 'What is it you want to ask me? I don't know how it happened, if that's what you're after.'

'Where were you last night?' he asked.

'What's that got to do with you?' she retorted. 'You're not going to try and make out Mr Roger was murdered, are you?'

'I am afraid I have a good deal of reason for thinking that he was,' replied Hannasyde. 'He was found in his flat, early this morning, shot through the head.'

Murgatroyd's rosy cheeks turned quite pale. She took a step backwards, was stopped by a chair and sat down in it with a plump. 'Oh, my goodness gracious me!' she gasped. 'Whatever next? Of all the unnatural - I never did in all my born days!'

'And needless to say,' put in Kenneth, 'the police think I did it.'

This brought her up out of the chair with a bounce. 'Oh, they do, do they? Well, let me tell you,' she said, rounding upon Hannasyde, 'that Mr Kenneth was at a dance all last night, as Miss Rivers here can swear to!'

''That wasn't what I asked you,' said Hannasyde quietly. 'I want you tell me where you were.'

'At the Pictures,' she replied.

'Alone?'

'Yes, I was.'

'And afterwards?'

'Straight back here, where I was when Miss Tony came in.'

'What time did you get back?'

'Twenty minutes past eleven. You can ask Mr Peters, if you like - you'll find him farther down the mews. He owns the lock-up garages, and he saw me come in, and asked me what the picture was like. Which I told him.'

There was nothing more to be got out of her. Hannasyde let her go, and in a few minutes had left the flat himself.

For some moments after the front door had shut behind the Superintendent no one spoke. It was Murgatroyd, coming back into the room, who broke the silence. 'I've got my vegetables to do,' she said prosaically, 'let alone all this washing up, so it stands to reason I can't waste time talking. You'd better come and give me a hand, Miss Tony. You won't do any good sitting there looking scared. It's a nasty set-out, and no mistake, but brooding won't mend matters.'

Antonia looked at Giles. 'Giles, it's all getting so beastly,' she said. 'I didn't mind about Arnold, but I hate this! Kenneth - you were at the Albert Hall the whole night, weren't you?'

'God bless the girl, now she thinks I did it!' Giles said, watching Kenneth: 'You lied badly. You were in Roger's flat last night, weren't you?'

'He wasn't! I tell you he never left the Hall!' Leslie struck in fiercely.

Giles paid no heed to her, but kept his eyes on Kenneth's face. Kenneth met that look challengingly.

'Why should I have been in Roger's flat? Can you think of any reason?'

'Yes,' said Giles. 'I can.'

Kenneth's lip curled. 'I see. Murder. You're wrong.'

'Not murder. Jealousy.'

A flush crept into Kenneth's lean cheeks. 'Again you're wrong.'

'Very well, what was the reason?'

'You've already heard me say that I didn't leave the Albert Hall until past four.'

'Is that statement likely to be corroborated by the other members of your party? Miss Rivers gave that alibi, not you. I was watching you; you weren't expecting it. I think you nearly denied it.'

'Why don't you join the police-force?' inquired Kenneth. 'You've missed your vocation.'

Giles got up. 'You young fool, can't you see what a tight corner you're in?' he said. 'Lie to Hannasyde if you must, but if you lie to me you can look for another lawyer. I won't touch your case.'

'As you wish,' Kenneth said.

'Don't throw him over, Giles!' Antonia begged, a catch in her voice .' Please , please don't desert us.'

His face softened; he said more gently: 'I shan't do that, Tony. But I can't handle a case where I'm kept in the dark.'

'All very moving,' remarked Kenneth. 'So far I haven't asked you to handle my case. Supposing someone in my party did lose sight of me for half an hour? Have you ever danced at the Albert Hall? It's a largish sort of place, you know.'

'Yes, and we sat out a good bit,' Leslie said.

Antonia looked anxiously at Giles. 'You think he's in a mess, Giles?'

'I know he's in a mess.'

'Any fool could see that,' said Kenneth contemptuously. 'First I kill Arnold, then Roger turns up, so naturally I have to kill him as well. All for filthy lucre too. Take that worried look off your face, Tony; there's no evidence.'

'There's your pipe,' she pointed out.

'They won't hang me on that,' he answered.

They could get no more out of him than that. He walked up and down the studio, his hands in his pockets and his pipe clenched between his teeth. 'It's possible they may arrest me,' he said, frowning.

Giles, who had moved to the desk, and was flicking over the pages of the telephone directory, glanced up. 'More than that.'

'Very well, more than that. You ought to know. But it isn't enough if they prove I left the Albert Hall during the dance. They must prove I went to see Roger, and that they can't do.'

Giles, having apparently found what he was looking for, shut the directory and laid it down. 'Think it over,' he advised. 'And don't overlook the fact that no one has so strong a motive as you for murdering Arnold, and then Roger. I'm going now, but if you come to your senses, ring me up!'

'What, with a full confession?' jibed Kenneth.

Giles did not answer. Antonia went out with him, and at the front door detained him for a few moments. 'Giles , it's getting worse. I'm dead sure he was with Roger last night. You can always tell when Kenneth's lying. He does it so badly. What will happen if they find it out?'

'Tony, my dear, I don't know, because I've no idea when he went there, or what he did there. But things are going to look remarkably ugly if he's caught out in a lie. Everything points to him already.'

'Yes, I can see that, but I don't believe he did it all the same,' she replied. 'I wish Leslie hadn't nipped in with that alibi before he had time to speak. I think she's queered his pitch.' She paused, and then said in a troubled way: 'There's one rather horrid thing, Giles. I don't know whether you've thought of it. If Kenneth didn't do it - who could have? Nobody else had any reason to kill Roger.'

'Yes, I have thought of it,' he said curtly.

'I expect a jury would too?' she suggested, raising her eyes to his face.

'Undoubtedly.' He took her hands, and held them comfortingly. 'Don't worry, chicken. I don't believe Kenneth did it any more than you do.' He smiled down at her. 'Here's one cheering thought for you at least: Mesurier looks like being cleared of all suspicion.'

'Oh, him!' said Antonia. 'I'd forgotten about him. He's fed-up with me, by the way. Not that I blame him. I don't think I'll get engaged any more. It doesn't seem to lead anywhere.'

'It will next time,' said Giles. 'That I promise you.' He gave her hands a quick squeeze, released them, and ran down the stairs to his car.

Five minutes later he drew up outside a house in a street leading up from the Embankment. It had been converted into two maisonettes, the one on the ground and the first floor having Violet Williams's name on a brass plate beside the door.

He rang the bell, and was presently admitted by a middle-aged woman in a dirty overall. Her method of announcing him was to call out: 'Oh, Miss Williams, here's somebody to see you!'

Violet came out of a room at the front of the house. She gave an exclamation of surprise at seeing Giles. 'Why, Mr Carrington! I'd no idea! Do come in!'

He followed her into a sitting-room furnished in bleached oak with jade-green curtains and cushions. A table in the bay window had a litter of sketches on it, and the chair, pushed back from it, seemed to indicate that Violet had been working there. Giles said: 'I hope I'm not disturbing you. You look as though you were busy.'

'Of course not. Won't you sit down? I apologise for the creature who let you in, by the way! I don't keep a proper maid. She's just a char who comes to clean in the mornings.' She picked up a cigarette-box from a low table by the fireplace, and offered it to him. 'Don't think me terribly rude,' she said, smiling, 'but what on earth do you want to see me about?'

He struck a match, and held it to the cigarette she had taken from the box. 'I'm hoping you will be able to induce Kenneth to behave sensibly,' he answered.

She laughed. 'Oh, I'm afraid he's impossible! What has he been up to?'

'I wish I knew, Miss Williams. You see, something rather shocking has happened. Roger Vereker has been found shot in his flat.'

She gave a start. 'Mr Carrington! Oh no!'

'I'm afraid it is quite true,' he said gravely.

She put a hand over her eyes. 'How awful! Poor, poor Roger. I never dreamed he was feeling it all as badly as that. I knew he was on edge, of course, but that he would actually - oh, it doesn't bear thinking about!'

'Was he in a very nervous state?' Giles asked. 'I believe you saw more of him than anyone - you would probably know.'

'Yes, he was,' she answered. 'He had it fixed in his mind that the police were hounding him down. I was saying so to Kenneth only the other day. He didn't see it - or wouldn't see it, but then Kenneth isn't always very observant.' She let her hand fall. 'But that he should have actually take his own life! I can't get over it!'

'I don't think he did take his own life, Miss Williams.'

She turned very pale. 'You mean - oh, impossible!'

'It was meant to look like suicide,' Giles said, 'but there are one or two circumstances which point rather conclusively to murder.'

She shuddered. 'I can't believe that. Please tell me what reason you have for saying such a thing!'

'My chief reason is purely technical,' he said.

'But the police - do they think it was murder?'

'They think it very probable,' said Giles.

BOOK: Death in the Stocks
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