Death in the Stocks (3 page)

'Oh!' said Antonia. 'Rather beastly.'

'Yes,' said the Inspector.

She stretched out her hand mechanically towards an open box of cigarettes, and began to tap one of them on her thumb-nail. 'Very nasty,' she observed. 'Who did it?'

'The police have no information on that point at present, miss.'

She struck a match, and lit the cigarette. 'Well, I didn't, if that's what you want to know. Have you come here to arrest me, or something?'

'Certainly not, miss. All I wish to do is to make a few inquiries. Anything you can tell me that would throw some light on -'

She shook her head. 'Sorry, but I can't. We haven't been on speaking terms for months.'

'Excuse me, miss, but if that's so, how do you come to be in Mr Vereker's house now?'

'Oh, that's easy,' she replied. 'He wrote me a letter which made me see red, so I came down to have it out with him.'

'May I ask if you have that letter, miss?'

'Yes, but I don't propose to show it to you, if that's what you're after. Purely personal.'

'I take it the matter was very pressing? Mr Vereker would have been in London again on Monday?'

'Well, I didn't feel like waiting till Monday,' retorted Antonia. 'He wasn't in Eaton Place when I rang up, so I took a chance on his being here. He wasn't, but the beds were made up, and there was some milk and butter and eggs and things in the larder, which made it look fairly certain that he was expected, so I waited for him. When he didn't turn up at midnight I went to bed, because it seemed to be a bit late to go home again then.'

'I see. And you haven't been out of the house since - I think you said it was about seven o'clock - last night?'

'Yes, of course I've been out of the house since then,' she said impatiently. 'I took the dog for a run just before I turned in. That's when he had the fight. A mangy looking retriever set on him about half a mile from here. Blood and fur all over the place. However, there was no real damage done.'

The Constable was surveying the bull-terrier, lying watchfully by the door. 'You dog wasn't hurt then, miss?' he ventured.

She looked contemptous. 'Hardly at all. He's a bull terrier.'

'I was only thinking, miss,' said the Constable, with a deprecating glance towards the Inspector, 'that it was odd your dog wasn't bitten too.'

'You don't seem to know much about bull-terriers,' said Antonia.

'That'll do, Dickenson,' intervened the Inspector. He addressed Antonia again. 'I shall have to ask you, miss, if you would come back to the Police Station with me. You'll understand that you being a relative, and in Mr Vereker's house at the time, the Chief Constable would like to have your statement, and any particulars you can give of the deceased's -'

'But I tell you I don't know anything about it,' said Antonia snappishly. 'Moreover, if I'm wanted to make statements and sign things, I'll have a lawyer down to see I don't go and incriminate myself.'

The Inspector said in a measured tone. 'No one wants you to do that, miss. But you must surely realise that the police are bound to want all the information they can get. You can't object to telling the Chief Constable quite simply anything you know about your brother -'

'Don't keep on calling him my brother! Half-brother!'

'I beg pardon, I'm sure. Anything you know about your half-brother, and what you yourself were doing at the time of the murder.'

'Well, I've already told you that.'

'Yes, Miss, and what I want you to do is tell it again, just in what words you please, at the Station, where it can be taken down in shorthand, and given you to read over and correct, if you like, and sign. There isn't any harm in that, is there?'

The girl stubbed the end of her cigarette into her saucer. 'It seems to me there might he a lot of harm in it,' she said with paralysing frankness. 'If you're going to investigate my half-brother's murder you're bound to find out quite a lot of happy little details about our family, so I might just as well tell you at the outset that I loathed the sight of Arnold, I didn't happen to murder him, but I haven't got an alibi, and, as far as I can see, things rather point my way. So if it's all the same to you - and equally if it isn't - I shan't say anything at all till I see my solicitor.'

'Very well, miss, it's just as you like. And if you'll accompany me to Hanborough you can ring your solicitor from the station.'

'Do you mean I've got to hang about in a Police Station all day?' demanded Antonia. 'I'm damned if I will! I've got a luncheon engagement in town at one o'clock.'

'Well, miss,' said the Inspector placably, 'I've no wish to force you into making a statement if you don't want to, but if you'd only see sense and act reasonably, I daresay the Chief Constable wouldn't see any need to detain you.'

'Have you got a warrant for my arrest?' Antonia shot at him.

'No, miss, I have not.'

'Then you can't stop me going back to Town.'

The Inspector showed signs of beginning to lose his temper. 'If you go on like this much longer, miss, you'll soon see whether I can take you up to the Police Station or not!'

Antonia lifted an eyebrow, and glanced towards the 'Would you like to bet on it?' she inquired.

'Come along, miss, don't be silly!' said the Inspector.

'Oh, well!' said Antonia. 'After all, I do want to know who did kill Arnold. I've often said I'd like to, but I never did, somehow. Do you mind if I put on my skirt, or would you like me just as I am?'

The Inspector said he would prefer her to put on her skirt. 'All right. But you'll have to clear out while I do. And while you're waiting one of you might look out Mr Giles Carrington's number in the telephone book, and get on to him for me, and tell him he's got to come down here at once, because I'm being charged with murder.'

'Nobody's charging you with anything of the sort, miss, I keep on telling you!'

'Well, you will be soon,' said Antonia, with the utmost cheerfulness.

Chapter Three

Mrs Beaton, when interviewed, proved a disappointing witness. Constable Dickenson had warned the Inspector that she was not one to talk, but the Inspector soon formed the opinion that her reticence had its root in a profound ignorance of her employer's affairs. When Arnold Vereker was at the cottage she was never required to do more than cook breakfast, and tidy the house before going home again at twelve o'clock. Mr Vereker nearly always brought a hamper down with him from Fortnum & Mason's, and sometimes, when he did not come alone, she never even set eyes on his guests. She had received a wire from Mr Vereker on Friday, warning her that he was coming down on Saturday, and might bring a visitor, but who the visitor was, whether man or woman, or at what hour they would arrive, she had not the least idea.

The Chief Constable, adopting a fatherly attitude, failed to make any impression on Antonia Vereker, and there was nothing for it, with regard to her evidence, but to await the arrival of Mr Giles Carrington. Unfortunately Mr Giles Carrington had gone to play golf by the time a call had been put through to his residence, and although the servant who answered the telephone promised to ring up the golf club at once no dependence could be placed on the message's reaching him before lunch-time.

Consigning Miss Vereker to the care of the Station Sergeant, the Inspector and the Chief Constable went into consultation and were very soon agreed on the advisability of calling New Scotland Yard at once. The stocks had revealed no finger-prints and the Doctor's autopsy very little more than his first examination.

The Station-Sergeant, who described himself as a rare one for dogs, got on much better with Antonia than the Inspector had done. He spent half an hour arguing with her on the merits of the Airedale over the bull-terrier, and would have been pleased to have continued the argument indefinitely had his work not called him away. She was left in a severe apartment with a couple of Sunday papers and her own thoughts, her only visitor being a young and rather shy constable, who brought her a cup of tea at eleven o'clock.

It was past one o'clock when a touring car drew up outside the Police Station, and a tall, loose-limbed man in the mid-thirties walked in and announced in a pleasant, lazy voice that his name was Carrington.

The Inspector happened to be in the Charge-room at the moment, and he greeted the newcomer with relief, not unmixed with dubiety. Mr Carrington did not look much like a solicitor to him. However, he conducted him to the Chief Constable's office, and duly presented him to Colonel Agnew.

There was another man with the Colonel, a middle aged man with hair slightly grizzled at the temples, and a square, good-humoured face in which a pair of rather deep-set eyes showed a lurking twinkle behind their gravity. The Colonel, having shaken hands with Giles Carrington, turned to introduce this man.

'This is Superintendent Hannasyde, from New Scotland Yard. He has come down to investigate this case, Mr Carrington. I have been putting him in possession of the facts as we know them, but we are a little - er - hampered by your client's refusal to make any sort of statement until she has consulted you.'

Giles shook hands with the Superintendent. 'You must forgive me: I haven't the least idea what your case is,' he said frankly. 'The message that reached me - on the third tee - was that my cousin, Miss Vereker, wanted me to come down at once to Hanborough Police Station. Has she been getting herself into trouble?'

'Your cousin!' said the Colonel, 'I understood -'

'Oh, I am her solicitor as well,' smiled Giles Carrington. 'Now what is it all about?'

'I'm afraid it's rather a serious business,' replied the Colonel. 'Miss Vereker's determined refusal to assist the police by giving any evidence - But I trust that you will be able to convince her that her present attitude is merely prejudicial to her own interests. Miss Vereker's halfbrother, Mr Carrington, was discovered in the village stocks at Ashleigh Green in the early hours of this morning, dead.'

'Good heavens!' said Giles Carrington, mildly shocked. 'When you say dead, what precisely do you mean?'

'Murdered,' said the Colonel bluntly. 'A knife-thrust in the hack.'

'There was a moment's silence. 'Poor chap!' said Giles, in precisely the same way as he might have said 'Dear me!' or 'What a pity!' 'And do I understand that you have arrested Miss Vereker, or what?'

'No, no, no!' said the Colonel, a look of annoyance coming into his face. 'That is merely the ridiculous notion Miss Vereker seems to have got into her head! Miss Vereker, on her own admission, spent the night at her half-brother's house, Riverside Cottage, and all that she was wanted to do was to tell us just why she was there, and what she was doing at the time of the murder. Since she is a close relative of the murdered man, it did not seem unreasonable to expect her to give us what information she can about Mr Vereker's habits and friends; but beyond informing Inspector Jerrold that she loathed her half-brother, hadn't set eyes on him for months, and had come down to Riverside Cottage with the intention of 'having something out with him,' she refused to say a word.'

A half-laughing, half-rueful look crept into Giles Carrington's eyes. 'I think I'd better see her at once,' he said. 'I'm afraid you've been having rather a difficult time with her, sir.'

'I have,' said the Colonel. 'And I think you should know, Mr Carrington, that her attitude has been extremely - equivocal, let us say.'

'I'm sure it has,' said Giles sympathically. 'She can be very tiresome.'

The Superintendent, who had been watching him, said suddenly: 'I wonder, Mr Carrington, whether by any chance you are also Mr Arnold Vereker's solicitor?'

'I am,' replied Giles. 'I am also one of his executors.'

'Well, then, Colonel,' said Hannasyde, with a smile, 'we must be grateful to Miss Vereker, mustn't we? You are the very man I want, Mr Carrington.'

'Yes, I've realised that for some time,' agreed Giles.

'But I think I'd better see my cousin first.'

'Undoubtedly. And Mr Carrington!' Giles lifted an eyebrow. The twinkle in the Superintendent's eye became more pronounced. 'Do try to convince Miss Vereker that really the police won't arrest her merely because she disliked her half-brother.'

'I'll try,' said Giles gravely, 'but I'm afraid she hasn't much of an opinion of the police. You see, she breeds bull-terriers, and they fight rather.'

The Superintendent watched him go out in the wake of Inspector Jerrold, and turned to look at the Colonel. 'I like that chap,' he said in his decided way. 'He's going to help me.'

'Well, I hope he may,' said the Colonel. 'What struck me most forcibly was that he showed almost as little proper feeling at hearing of his cousin's death as the girl did.'

'Yes, it struck me too,' said Hannasyde. 'It looks as though Arnold Vereker was the sort of man who had a good many enemies.'

Meanwhile Giles Carrington had been escorted to the room where Antonia awaited him. The Inspector left him at the door, and he went in, closing the door firmly behind him. 'Hullo, Tony!' he said in a matter-of-fact voice.

Antonia, who was standing by the window, drumming her fingers on the glass, turned round quickly. She was looking a little pale, and more than a little fierce, but the glowering look faded, and some colour stole into her cheeks when she saw her cousin. 'Hullo, Giles!' she returned, with just a suggestion of embarrassment in her manner. 'I'm glad you've come. Arnold's been murdered.'

'Yes, so I've heard,' he answered, pulling a chair up to the table. 'Sit down and tell me just what asinine tricks you've been up to.'

'You needn't assume I've been asinine just because I happen to be in a mess!' snapped Antonia.

'I don't. I assume it because I know you awfully well, my child. What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you weren't on speaking terms with Arnold.'

'I wasn't. But something happened, and I wanted to see him at once, so I came down -'

He interrupted her. 'What happened?'

'Well, that's private. Anyway -'

'Cut out the anyway,' returned her cousin. 'You've called me in to act for you, Tony, and you must take me into your confidence.'

She set her elbows on the table and leaned her chin on her clasped hands, frowning. 'I can't, altogether. However, I don't mind telling you that my reason for wanting to see Arnold was because he's started to interfere with my life again, and that made me see red.'

'What had he done?'

'Written me a stinking letter about -' She stopped. 'About my engagement,' she said after a moment.

'I didn't know you were engaged,' remarked Giles. 'Who is it this time?'

'Don't say who is it this time, as though I'd been engaged dozens of times! I've only been engaged once before.'

'Sorry. Who is it?'

'Rudolph Mesurier,' said Antonia.

'Do you mean that dark fellow in Arnold's Company?' asked Giles.

'Yes. He's the Chief Accountant.'

There was a short pause. 'This is quite beside the point,' apologised Giles, 'but what's the great idea?'

'Why shouldn't I marry Rudolph if I feel like it?'

'I don't know. I was wondering how you came to feel like it, that's all.'

She grinned suddenly. 'You are a noxious cad, Giles. I do think I ought to marry someone or other, because Kenneth will, sooner or later, and I don't want to be left stranded.' A rather forlorn look came into her eyes. 'I'm sick of being all alone, and having to look after myself, and, anyway, I like Rudolph a lot.'

'I see. And did Arnold object?'

'Of course he did. I thought he'd be rather pleased at getting rid of his responsibilities as a matter of fact, because he's tried often enough to marry me off. So I wrote and told him about it, because though you say I'm unreasonable I quite realise I can't get married, or anything, without his consent till I'm twenty-five. And instead of sending me his blessing, he wrote the filthiest letter, and said he wouldn't hear of it.'

'Why?'

'No reason at all. Snobbery.'

'Now, look here, Tony!' Giles said. 'I know Arnold, and I know you. I don't say he was the type of fellow I cultivate, but he wasn't as bad as you and Kenneth thought him. Yes, I know you two had a rotten time with him but it's always been my firm conviction that you brought a lot of it on yourselves. So don't tell me that he refused to give his consent to your marriage without letting you know why. He was much more likely not to care a damn what you did.'

'Well, he didn't like Rudolph,' said Antonia restively. 'He wanted me to make a better match.'

Giles sighed. 'You'd better let me see his letter. Where is it?'

She pointed to the ashtray at the end of the table, a sort of naughty triumph in her eyes.

Giles looked at the black ashes in it, and then rather sternly at his cousin. 'Tony, you little fool, what made you do such a damned silly thing?'

'I had to, Giles; really I had to! You know that awful way we all have of blurting out what we happen to be thinking? Well, I went and told those policemen I'd had a letter from Arnold, and they were instantly mustard keen to see it. And it hadn't anything to do with the murder; it was just private, so I burned it. It's no use asking me what was in it, because I shan't tell you. It just wasn't the sort of letter you want anyone else to see.'