Peter Lovesey - Mad Hatter

‘Careful, Thackeray,’ warned Cribb. ‘Let’s leave imagination out of it.’

Thackeray returned a sharp glance. ‘Well, the facts are,’ he said with emphasis, ‘that he chanced to meet Bridget in the Steine on Saturday morning and discovered that she knew all about him following her mistress and even the secret meetings. That was sure to be a severe shock to him. He was accustomed to being alone and watching other people from a secret, solitary position. Now he discovered that Bridget, this common servant-girl, knew a rare amount of what was going on. Then in the evening, when he went to meet his Zena, who should come instead, but Bridget! The formula never got back to Mrs. Prothero because Moscrop took Bridget along the beach and killed her. She must have become a nightmare to him and he found the quickest way he could of finishing it. Afterwards he hid the body in the arch and set about planning to dispose of it in his usual methodical way.’

‘Admirable!’ said Cribb, genuinely impressed. ‘Can you explain why he told us so much about his doings, though? Wasn’t it in his interest not to have anything to do with the police?’

‘I don’t think so, Sarge. He’d met Guy as well as Zena. They would have been sure to have mentioned his name when the questions began. It was clever thinking on his part to anticipate all that and volunteer to help us. Of course, he pretended to believe it was Zena whose body was found at first. That way he could seem to be just as surprised as anyone when it was found that Bridget was the victim. In short, Sergeant,’ Thackeray ended triumphantly, ‘I think we ought to run him in.’

‘Wait a moment!’ said Cribb. ‘What about the others-Mrs. Prothero and her servant problem, Guy in prospect of being a papa and Dr. Prothero undergoing blackmail? Do we forget about them just because Moscrop had a strong motive?’

Thackeray frowned. ‘But they couldn’t possibly have done it. They all had alibis. Mrs. Prothero was drugged with chloral and asleep, Guy was in the hotel, watching the fireworks from the balcony, and the doctor was at the ball all evening, except for half an hour in Steine Gardens which he spent with Miss Floyd-Whittingham. If you want to be quite sure, we could see if Moscrop’s got a criminal record. A man like that could very well have been in trouble before.’

Cribb opened the drawer of the desk in front of him and took out a sheet of paper. ‘All right. How’s this for a record? “August, 1881, Hove, criminal assault upon a minor, one Matthew Hawkins, not brought to court. December, 1881, Eastbourne, indecent assault upon a servant-girl of 17 years, Jane Brett, not brought to court. June, 1882, Eastbourne, attempted murder of Jane Brett by strangulation, not brought to court.”‘

‘Really, Sarge?’ said Thackeray. ‘We’ve got him this time for sure, then. “Not brought to court”, indeed! Makes you wonder what the local force was up to. We’d better get along to Montpelier Parade and clap the darbies on him quick before he adds to the list.’

‘Montpelier Parade?’

‘The address of Moscrop’s lodgings,’ pointed out Thackeray, not altogether suppressing his surprise at Cribb’s obtuseness.

‘Ah. Now that wouldn’t do.’

‘Why not, Sarge?’

‘Because it ain’t Moscrop’s record. So far as I’ve been able to check, he’s never put a foot wrong in his life. You couldn’t really call this a record at all, come to that, could you? Three cases, none of ’em brought to court. I put it together myself, from information received, as they say. It’s more of a school record than a criminal one, since all the information comes from headmasters. There’s nothing like a small private school for hushing up a scandal, paying reparation to the victim and pushing the offender on to some other place of learning. Sometimes it’s the masters that go, and sometimes the boys. Boy in this case.’

‘Do you mean Guy?’ Thackeray was open-mouthed.

Cribb nodded. ‘Well, you had him on your list, so don’t be too despondent.’

‘But he had an alibi. He was in the hotel all evening with his mother. Moscrop saw him on the balcony.’

‘His mother was asleep, if you remember. Once we established that, Guy had no alibi. The game of cribbage had to be pure invention. Oh, yes, he was seen on the balcony, but it was while Bridget was with Moscrop. After that, she went back to the hotel suite and out with Guy to see the fireworks, having borrowed Mrs. Prothero’s jacket to add a little spice to the escapade.’

‘But there’s nothing to suggest she went back to the Albemarle, Sarge. She still had the chemist’s report with her when she died.’

‘Do you think she would have left it lying about up there? Her Mistress was out to the world until next morning. There was only Prothero himself to see it if she left it in the bedroom. She didn’t want that so she took it with her. Besides, she must have gone back to put on the sealskin jacket. She wasn’t wearing it when she met Moscrop.’

‘He didn’t say so, it’s true, but-‘ ‘He wouldn’t have come to us suggesting Zena Prothero was dead if he’d seen Bridget wearing the jacket that night, now would he? He’s an observant man, Constable.’

There was an interval while Thackeray rearranged his thoughts.

‘When did you discover all this, Sarge?’

‘About Guy? On the day I went to Dorking. I missed Zena Prothero, unfortunately, but I was able to get the names of Guy’s schools from the servants. The local police extracted the information I wanted from the headmasters at Hove and Eastbourne. There’s quite a history of violence-torturing pet animals, bullying younger children and so on, leading up to a vicious attack on the boy Hawkins at Hove, but Guy is now of an age when he’s turning his attention to women. The girl Jane Brett is fortunate to be alive. If there’s such a thing as a born killer I would stake my reputation that Guy Prothero is it.’

‘A madman, Sarge?’

‘Sane in most respects, but with a lust for violence that makes him uncontrollable in certain situations.’

‘His parents must have been at their wits’ end when they got those reports from the schools,’ said Thackeray.

‘Prothero was inclined to disbelieve them, thinking the schools were exaggerating, until the attack on Jane Brett at Eastbourne. He was asked to take the boy away from school at once, and the headmaster urged his committal to an institution for the mentally deranged. As a medical man, Prothero was bound to consider the suggestion, unpalatable as it must have been. I don’t believe he told his wife about the nature of the boy’s outbursts at school-the “unspeakable thing” she mentioned to Moscrop was the disgrace of a second expulsion from school. If she’d known that Guy had attacked a servant-girl she certainly wouldn’t have countenanced his going off to swim with Bridget.’

‘Yet Prothero himself was quite agreeable to Guy swimming with the girl. You told me that yourself, Sarge. “A bit of spooning under the waves,” he called it.’

Cribb nodded. ‘That was his attitude after Bridget’s death. He knew his son to be a murderer by then. By posturing as a “forward thinker” he was trying to remove suspicion from Guy. It became clear that he’d changed his attitude when I interviewed Mrs. Prothero. She was thoroughly alarmed at the prospect of his finding out about the bathing with Bridget. “He would have stopped it at once,” she said. “I had my instructions, but I was not equal to them.” Prothero had strictly forbidden any such thing. He knew what the consequences might be. Afterwards it was smarter to suggest that he knew exactly what was going on and didn’t disapprove.’

‘He was protecting the boy all along, then?’