Джорджетт Хейер - Duplicate Death

"Ah!" said the Chief Inspector. "Daresay the chap led his partner a heart after he'd signalled he wanted a club. Well, I've got no sympathy for him!"

"Look here!" interrupted the Superintendent, in whom this suggestion awoke galling memories. "If I have much more from you, Stanley, you'll know it! Get up and dress! I'm putting you in charge!"

"What's C Division done?" demanded Hemingway, swinging his legs out of bed, and groping with his bare feet for his slippers. "Don't they do night-duty these days?"

"You'll find Inspector Pershore waiting for you at the house," said the Superintendent, with some relish.

"Oh, I will, will I? Well, isn't that a bit of luck for me? Of course it would have to be him, wouldn't it? He'll tell me all about it, I expect, and give me a few hints and tips as well, if I speak nicely to him! Hold on, while I shut this damned window, Bob!" He laid down the receiver, pushed the sash up, shrugged himself into a dressinggown, and sat down again on the edge of the bed. "All right: go ahead! Who's the murdered chap?"

"Man called Seaton-Carew."

"Anything known about him?"

"Nothing known about any of them."

The Chief Inspector groaned. "Any line on it at all?"

"Might be, might not. Doesn't sound like a cinch, from the first report. There were forty-nine people in the house at the time -"

"What?"

"Fifty-five, counting the servants," said the Superintendent.

"And I suppose any one of them could have bumped this chap off! You know, Bob, I believe I've got an attack of 'flu coming on, or maybe it's scarlet fever!"

The Superintendent laughed. "That's all right: it isn't as bad as that! Pershore has established that most of them couldn't have had anything to do with it. Not counting the servants, there seem to be seven people who might have had the opportunity."

"Is that all! It's too easy, Bob!"

"According to Pershore, it's easier still. He says it's a clear case against one person - young fellow, name of Butterwick."

"Well, if that's what he says, I've only got six people to interrogate - not counting the servants," said the Chief Inspector unkindly. "In fact, he may as well send young Butterwick off home to bed at once. I'd better get round there before he gets us all into trouble jugging a lot of innocent people. Let me have Sandy Grant, will you, Bob? Setting aside he knows my ways, once you get used to his silly habit of never giving you a straight yes or no, I'd sooner have him with me than any of the rest of them."

"I've already detailed him, and Sergeant Snettisham, to you."

"That's fine, but you don't have to go dragging Snettisham out of his bed at this hour: he's a married man, and I shan't need him tonight. Besides, I've got some consideration for other people, even if there are some that haven't."

"All right, all right! I'll send a car round to pick you up.:

"You're spoiling me!" said Hemingway, and rang off.

It was shortly before two in the morning that the police car drew up behind two others, and an ominous ambulance, outside Mrs. Haddington's house in Charles Street. Chief Inspector Hemingway, followed by the wiry, redheaded Inspector Grant of the CID, got out, and were admitted into the house by a uniformed constable, who saluted, and said that Inspector Pershore was awaiting them in the dining-room. Inspector Pershore came out of this room to greet them. He was a large, hard-faced man, with a consequential manner that had never yet failed to annoy the Chief Inspector. He took himself and his duties very seriously; and if Hemingway disliked him it was only fair to say that this dislike was cordially reciprocated. The higher Hemingway rose in the Department, the more important the cases that were entrusted to him, the less could Inspector Pershore understand the rules governing such promotion. He could not be brought to believe that anyone as incorrigibly flippant as the Chief Inspector could be what he called an efficient officer. He had been heard to express his astonishment at what the Chief Inspector's superiors put up with, and would certainly have been staggered to learn that no less a personage than the Assistant Commissioner had once said: "Put Hemingway on to it! He'll threaten to resign - but he'll bring home the bacon!"

"Good-evening, Chief Inspector!" said Pershore punctiliously. "Superintendent Hinckley informed me that he would be despatching you to the scene of the crime. I trust -"

"Well, there's no need for you to start talking like a newspaper report!" said Hemingway irritably. "What he told you was that he'd be sending me along, because nobody ever heard him talk in that silly style - not outside the witness-box, that is!" He put his hat down on the table under the gilded mirror, and struggled out of his overcoat. A glance round the eau-de-nil hall out of his bright, birdlike eyes made him nod approvingly. "Very classy!" he said. "Where can we go where we shan't be interrupted?"

"I have made the dining-room my headquarters, Chief Inspector. The staff has not yet cleared away the refreshments intended for the party that was earlier assembled -"

"You couldn't have hit on a better place," said Hemingway, walking into the dining-room, and warming his hands before the electric radiator. "I daresay we shall need some refreshment before we're through. Now, what's all this about, Pershore?"

Pershore, clearing his throat rather pompously, glanced at his voluminous notes, and replied: "I should say, Chief Inspector, that it is a clear case. At first sight, it may seem impossible that the crime could have been committed under the circumstances in which it was done; but, pursuant upon my interrogation of several of the persons present in the house, I reached the conclusion that this is a case that presents few difficulties -"

"What you want to do is to hire a hall, and give a series of lectures on police work," interposed Hemingway. "You'll probably make a lot of money: people will pay to listen to anything! I wouldn't, of course, but that's because I have to listen to you, and even the Department wouldn't expect me to pay for doing what I can't help. Now, you stop trying to annoy me, and tell me what's been happening here without any trimmings!"

The Inspector glared at him, but the exigencies of discipline prevented him from uttering a retort. He said stiffly: "The house is rented by a Mrs. Lilias Haddington, of whom nothing is known. She resides here with her daughter, Miss Cynthia Haddington, and a staff of six persons. There is also a young woman who is her secretary. She was on the premises at the time, but does not reside here. The murdered man was a Mr. Daniel Seaton-Carew, address Haughton House, Jermyn Street. I understand him to have been a close friend of Mrs. Haddington. He was one of forty-four persons invited to take part in some sort of a Bridge-game, and had previously dined here in company with Mrs. and Miss Haddington, Miss Birtley, who is the secretary, Lord Guisborough, and a Mr. Harte. There were two other guests, acting as scorers, one of whom is Dr Theodore Westruther, who was the first to inspect the body. The murdered man was called to the telephone, which is situated in the room known as the boudoir shortly after eleven pm; and some minutes later, nobody being able to state with certainty how many, Mrs. Haddington saying about ten, and Miss Birtley putting it rather higher, and no one else admitting to any knowledge of the exact hour at which Mr. Seaton-Carew was called to the telephone, which is, of course, possible, if they hadn't happened to look at the clock -"

"Take a breath!" advised Hemingway.

The Inspector found that he had lost the thread of his narrative, and was forced to refer to his notes.

"The murdered man was called to the telephone," Hemingway prompted.

"Some minutes later," resumed Pershore coldly, "Mrs. Haddington requested Sir Roderick Vickerstown to go down to the boudoir, and remind Mr. Seaton-Carew that they were all waiting for him. Sir Roderick complied with this request, and discovered the body of the murdered man as you will see for yourself, Chief Inspector. I come now to the persons whose movements during the period when the murder may be assumed to have been committed are unaccounted for."