Джорджетт Хейер - Death in the Stocks

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.”