Part 6 (1/2)
”Not this time, I'm afraid. I have to go out. Twice. I want you to come with me the first time, that's why I wanted you here.”
She didn't ask any questions. She picked up the phone, ordered whisky for me, sherry for herself. Old s.h.i.+rt-sleeves brought it up, huffing a bit after climbing the stairs. Mary smiled at him and said, ”Could we have dinner in our room please?”
”Dinner?” s.h.i.+rt-sleeves stiffened in outrage, his face going an imposible shade redder. ”In your room? Dinner! That's a good 'un! Where do you think you've landed- Claridges?” He brought his gaze down from the ceiling, where he'd been imploring heaven, and looked at Mary again.
He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, kept looking at her and I knew he was a lost man. ”Claridges,” he repeated mechanically. ”I-well, I'll see what can be done. Against the house rules, mind-you-but-it'll be a pleasure, ma'am.”
He left. I said, ”There should be a law against you. Pour me some whisky. And pa.s.s that phone.”
I made three calls. The first was to London, the second to Inspector Wylie and the third to Hardanger. He was still at Mordon. He sounded tired and irritated and I didn't wonder. He'd had a long and probably frustrating day.
”Cavell?” His voice was almost a bark. ”How did you get on with those two men you saw? At the farm, I mean.”
”Bryson and Chipperfield? Nothing there. There are two hundred witnesses who will swear that neither of them were within five miles of Mordon between eleven and midnight last night.”
”What are you talking about? Two hundred--”
”They were at a dance. Anything turned up in the statements made by our other suspects in number one lab?”
”Did you expect anything to turn up?” he said sourly. ”Do you think the killer would have been so dumb as to leave himself without an alibi. They've all got alibis-and d.a.m.n good ones. I'm still not convinced there wasn't an outsider at work.”
”Chessingham and Dr. Hartnell. How strong are their stories?”
”Why those two?” His voice was a suspicious crackle.
”I'm interested in them. I'm going to see them to-night and I wondered what their stories were.”
”You're not going to see anyone without my say-so, Cavell.” His voice was pretty close to a shout. ”I don't want people blundering in--”
”I won't blunder. I'm going, Hardanger. The General said I was to have a free hand, didn't he? Blocking my way- which you can do-is not my idea of giving a free hand. The General wouldn't like it, Hardanger.”
A silence. Hardanger was bringing himself under control. At last he said, in a quieter tone, ”You gave me to believe that you didn't suspect Chessingham.”
”I want to see him. He's not only acute and observant, he's more than usually friendly with Dr. Hartnell. It's Hartnell I'm really interested in. He's an outstanding research man, young and financially irresponsible. He thinks because he's clever with bugs he can be the same on the stock market. Three months ago Hartnell put all his cash into a fly-by-night company who'd splurged their adverts in all the national dailies. He lost the lot. Then he mortgaged his house a few weeks before I left Mordon. I believe he lost most of that too, trying to recoup.”
”Why the h.e.l.l didn't you tell me before?” Hardanger demanded.
”It just suddenly came to me this evening.”
”It just suddenly came--” Hardanger's voice cut off as if he had been strangled. Then he said, thoughtfully, ”Isn't that too easy? Jumping on Hartnell? Because he's heading for the bankruptcy court?”
”I don't know. As I say, he's not clever at everything. I've got to find out. Both have alibis, of course?”
”Both were at home. Their families vouch for them. I want to see you later.” He'd given up. ”I'll be at the County in Alfringham.”
”I'm at the Waggoner's Rest. A couple of minutes away. Could you come round to see us? About ten?”
” Us?”
”Mary came down this afternoon.”
”Mary?” There was surprise in his voice, suspicion that he didn't get round to elaborating but, above all, pleasure. One good reason Hardanger had for not liking me too much was that I'd made off with the best secretary he'd ever had: she'd been with him three years and if any person could ever be said to be the apple of an eye like a basilisk it was Mary.
He said he would be around at ten.
CHAPTER FIVE.
I drove out to Hailem Woods with Mary sitting strangely silent by my side. Over dinner I'd told her the whole story- the whole story. I'd never seen her scared before, but she was that now. Badly. Two frightened people in a car.
We reached Chessingham's house about a quarter to eight. It was an old-fas.h.i.+oned, flat-roofed, stone-built affair with long narrow windows and a flight of stone steps leading up to the front door over a moat-like trench that ran right round the house and gave light to the bas.e.m.e.nt. High trees, sighing in the cold night wind, surrounded the house on four sides and it was beginning to rain heavily. It was a place and a night in keeping with our mood.
Chessingham had heard the car and met us at the top of the steps. He looked pale and strained but there was nothing in that, everyone who was in anyway connected with ”E” block had every reason for looking pale and strained that day.
”Cavell,” he said. He didn't offer his hand, but opened the door wide and stood sideways to let us in. ”I heard you were in Mordon. Must say I didn't expect you out here though. I thought they asked me enough questions to-day as it was.”
”This is a pretty unofficial visit,” I a.s.sured him. ”My wife, Chessingham. When I bring along my wife I leave the handcuffs at home.”
It wasn't funny. He shook hands reluctantly with Mary and led us into an old-fas.h.i.+oned sitting-room with heavy Edwardian furniture, velvet drapes from ceiling to floor and a fire burning in a huge open fireplace. There were two people sitting in high-backed arm-chairs by the fire. One was a good-looking young girl of nineteen or twenty, slender, brown-haired and brown-eyed like Chessingham himself. His sister. The other, obviously, was his mother, but much older than I had expected his mother to be. A closer inspection showed that she wasn't really so old, she just looked old. Her hair was white, her eyes had that curious glaze you sometimes see on old people who are coming to the end of their road, and the hands resting on her lap were thin and wrinkled and criss-crossed with blue veins. Not an old woman: a sick woman, a very sick woman, prematurely aged. But she sat very erect and there was a welcoming smile on her thin, rather aristocratic features.
”Mr. and Mrs. Cavell,” Chessingham said. ”You've heard me speak of Mr. Cavell. My mother, my sister Stella.”
”How do you do, both of you?” Mrs. Chessingham had that a.s.sured direct no-nonsense voice that would have gone well with a Victorkn drawing-room and a houseful of servants. She peered at Mary. ”My eyes aren't what they used to be, I'm afraid-but, my goodness, you are a beautiful girl. Come and sit beside me. How on earth did you manage it, Mr. Cavell?”
”I think she must have mistaken me for someone else,” I said.
”These things happen,” Mrs. Chessingham said precisely. For all their age, her eyes could still twinkle. She went on, ”That was a dreadful thing that happened out at Mordon to-day, Mr. Cavell. Dreadful. I have been hearing all about it.” A pause, again the half-smile. ”I hope you haven't come to take Eric to jail already, Mr. Cavell. He hasn't even had dinner yet. All this excitement, you know.”
”Your son's only connection with this affair, Mrs. Chessingham, is that he is unfortunate enough to work in number one laboratory. Our only interest in him is his complete and final elimination as a suspect. Every narrowing of the field is an advancement of a kind.”
”He doesn't have to be eliminated,” Mrs. Chessingham said with some asperity. ”Eric has nothing to do with it. The idea is ridiculous.”
”Of course. You know that, I know that, but Superintendent Hardanger, who is in charge of investigations, doesn't know that. All statements must must be checked, no matter how unnecessary the checking. I had a great deal of difficulty in persuading the superintendent that I should come instead of one of his own officers.” I saw Mary's eyes widen but she recovered herself quickly. be checked, no matter how unnecessary the checking. I had a great deal of difficulty in persuading the superintendent that I should come instead of one of his own officers.” I saw Mary's eyes widen but she recovered herself quickly.
”And why did you do that, Mr. Cavell?” I was beginning to feel sorry for young Chessingham, he must have felt foolish and ineffectual with his mother taking command in this fas.h.i.+on.
”Because I know your son. The police don't. Saves seventy-five per cent of the questioning straight away. And Special Branch detectives can ask a great number of brutal and unnecessary questions in a case like this.”
”I don't doubt it. Nor do I doubt that you could be as ruthless as any man I've ever known if the occasion arose. But I know you won't on this occasion.” She sighed and s.h.i.+fted her hands to the arms of her chair. ”I hope you will excuse me. I am an old woman and not very well and so I have some privileges-dinner in bed is one.” She turned and smiled at Mary. ”I'd like to talk to you, my child. I have so few callers-I make the most of them. Would you like to help me negotiate those dreadful stairs while Stella sees to the dinner?”
When we were alone Chessingham said: ”Sorry about Mother. She does tend--”
”I think she's a wonderful woman. No need to apologise.” His face lightened a little at that. ”About your statement. You said you were at home all night. Mother and sister will of course vouch for that?”
”Of course.” He smiled. ”They'd vouch for it whether I was at home or not.”