Джорджетт Хейер - Death in the Stocks

The Superintendent was silent. After a moment Giles added, with a faint smile: “Moreover, I hardly think he would have overlooked the cartridge-case.”

“You think I'm prejudiced against young Vereker,” said Hannasyde. “But I can honestly say that I hope very much you may be right. But it's no use blinking facts: Roger Vereker's death - assuming it to have been murder - narrows the field down considerably. I don't think there's much doubt that the man who killed Arnold also killed Roger. You yourself said that although there might have been several motives for the first murder there can only have been one for the second. That seems to dispose of Mesurier for one, and of Arnold's chauffeur - never a probable suspect, I admit - for another. Neither stood to gain anything through Roger's death. There is just one person who stands to gain a fortune; you know it as well as I do, so we may as well be frank about it. What is more, Mr Carrington, you have never been sure that Kenneth Vereker didn't commit that first murder. You believed him to be capable of it, I've known that from the start. What sticks in your gullet is this second murder. But if you think it over you must see that it follows perfectly logically, almost inevitably, on the first. Admitted, it wasn't foreseen. It takes a pretty hardened criminal to plan to kill two people. One murder only was planned, but when Roger Vereker turned up that murder was useless unless he also could be got rid of. You know the French saying that it's only the first step that counts: well, you can apply it here. If a man can murder one half-brother for his money, and get away with it, he won't find it so hard to murder a second half-brother. And I don't in the least mind admitting that Arnold's murderer looked like getting away with it completely - which Kenneth Vereker was well aware of.”

“It would have to be an abnormal mind!” Giles said harshly.

“Yes, certainly.”

“Rubbish! That boy's not abnormal at all. Nor, had he planned to kill Roger, would he have been fool enough to show his animosity so plainly.”

“Wouldn't he?” Hannasyde's voice was very dry. “I think that is just what Kenneth Vereker would do. But don't run away with the idea that I've ruled out every other possible suspect. I haven't - but I should be a fool if I didn't go into his movements last night very carefully.”

They had come to a crossing, and the traffic lights were against them. Not until the car had moved forward again did Giles Carrington answer. Then he said, with a smile: “Yes, you'd be a fool - but I told you I was going to take a hand, didn't I?”

“Well, if anything has occurred to you, let me have it,” said Hannasyde placably.

“Two possibilities have occurred to me, but both are so wildly improbable that I think I won't bother you with them,” replied Giles. “One is obvious enough for you to have thought of for yourself -”

Hannasyde gave a chuckle. “Thank you!”

“Sorry, I didn't mean it quite like that. The other —” he paused - “the other, as far as I know, has absolutely nothing to support it. I'll see if I can find something.”

“It doesn't sound very promising,” said Hannasyde, rather amused. “But by all means go ahead with it.”

In another few minutes they had arrived at the studio. Giles ran his car a little way down the mews, and followed Hannasyde up the stairs to the door of the flat.

It was opened to them by Murgatroyd, who exclaimed: “What, again?” in tones of deep disgust. “Well, one thing's certain - you can't go worrying my young lady and gentleman now. They're having breakfast. Good-morning, Mr Giles.”

“Having breakfast, Murgatroyd?” Giles said. “Do you know it's nearly eleven?”

“Yes, and it was nearly five before Mr Kenneth and Miss Leslie came back from that dance,” said Murgatroyd grimly.

“Well, I'm sorry, but Superintendent Hannasyde is a busy man. Mr Kenneth will have to be disturbed.”

“If you say so, sir,” conceded Murgatroyd, disapprovingly, and stood back. “Not but what I doubt whether Miss Leslie's dressed to receive company, but I'll see.”

“Miss Leslie? Is she here?”

“Oh yes, she's here, and has been all night - what there was left of it by the time Mr Kenneth brought her back,” replied Murgatroyd. “What must she do but leave her latch-key behind, so sooner than knock up her landlady she wakes Miss Tony, and gets into her bed.” She opened the door into the studio as she spoke, and looked in. “Here's Mr Giles with the Superintendent, Miss Tony. Will I let them in, or not?”

“Oh, my God, at this hour!” groaned Kenneth. “Say we're out.”

“No, don't. Of course they can come in,” said Antonia. “You don't mind, do you, Leslie? Hullo, Giles! Good morning, Superintendent. Have some coffee!”

The breakfast-table had been laid in the window. Antonia, fully dressed, was seated at one end, behind the coffee-pot, with Leslie Rivers, in a kimono, on one side of her, and Kenneth, in pyjamas, a pair of flannel trousers, and an old blazer, on the other. Kenneth, who looked half asleep, blinked somewhat morosely at the visitors, and said: “Well, what's happened now? Don't spare us. For God's sake cover up those repulsive eggs, Tony! Murgatroyd must be mad. Where's the ham?”

“We finished it yesterday. Do sit down, Superintendent! This is Miss Rivers, by the way. You're looking rather grim, Giles. Is anything the matter?”

“I'm afraid something very serious, Tony. Roger is dead - shot.”

There was a moment's frozen silence. Then Antonia gasped out: “Gosh!”

Kenneth, who had stayed his coffee-cup half-way to his mouth, blinked again and drank with a good deal of deliberation. Then he set the cup down in the saucer, wiped his mouth with his napkin, and said coolly: “If true, slightly redundant. Is it true, by any chance?”

“Perfectly true, Mr Vereker,” said Hannasyde, watching him.

It struck Giles, also watching, that Kenneth's control over his features was almost too perfect. There was a suggestion of rigidity about his mouth, a curiously blank look in his eyes. They travelled from Giles's face to Hannasyde's. Then Kenneth picked up his cup and saucer, and handed it to Antonia. “More coffee, please,” he said. “How my fortunes do fluctuate!”

“You don't seem to be greatly surprised, Mr Vereker.”

“I should hate you to know how very greatly surprised I am, my friend-the-Superintendent. You did say shot, didn't you? What does that mean? Suicide?”

“That or murder,” said Hannasyde. The word, uttered so baldly, had an ugly sound, and made Leslie Rivers shiver involuntarily.

“Let's stick to suicide,” suggested Kenneth. “It's more likely.”

“Do you think so? Why?”

“Obvious inference. He killed Arnold, thought you were on to him, lost his nerve, and pulled the trigger. Violet said he had the wind up.”

“Did she?” It was Giles who spoke. “What made her think that?”

“I didn't ask.”

Leslie said in rather a strained voice, “He must have had the wind up. I thought so myself.”

“Well, I never saw any signs of it,” said Antonia flatly.

Leslie looked steadily at her. “Oh yes, Tony! He often had a sort of scared expression in his eyes.”

“That was only because he thought you'd like to murder him,” replied Antonia irrepressibly. “He said you -” She broke off, flushing scarlet. “Oh, Lord, what on earth am I saying? It was only a joke, of course! He didn't really think so!”

“No, I should hardly suppose he did,” said Leslie quietly. “I can't say I liked him much, but I hadn't any desire to murder him. However, perhaps it's just as well that I've got an alibi.” She turned to Hannasyde and smiled. “I was with Mr Kenneth Vereker last night, from a quarter to eight onwards. We had dinner together at the Carlton, and went on from there to the Albert Hall, where we danced till after four o'clock. Then we came back here.”