Agatha Christie - Yowards Zero

XII

Crossing the hall. Superintendent Battle was waylaid by Mary Aldin.

"Can I speak to you a minute. Superintendent?"

"Certainly, Miss Aldin. Shall we come in here?"

He threw open the dining-room door. Lunch had been cleared away by Hurstall.

"I want to ask you something, Superintendent. Surely you don't, you can't still think that this — this awful crime was done by one of us? It must have been someone from outside! Some maniac!"

"You may not be far wrong there. Miss Aldin. Maniac is a word that describes this criminal very well, if I'm not mistaken. But not an outsider."

Her eyes opened very wide.

"Do you mean that someone in this house is — is mad?"

"You're thinking," said the Superintendent, "of someone foaming at the mouth and rolling their eyes. Mania isn't like that. Some of the most dangerous criminal lunatics have looked as sane as you or I. It's a question, usually, of having an obsession. One idea, preying on the mind, gradually distorting it. Pathetic, reasonable people who come up to you and explain how they're being persecuted and how everyone is spying on them — and you sometimes feel it must all be true."

"I'm sure nobody here has any idea of being persecuted."

"I only gave that as an instance. There are other forms of insanity. But I believe whoever committed this crime was under the domination of one fixed idea — an idea on which they had brooded until literally nothing else mattered or had any importance."

Mary shivered. She said: "There's something I think you ought to know."

Concisely and clearly she told him of Mr. Treves' visit to dinner and of the story he had told. Superintendent Battle was deeply interested.

"He said he could recognise this person? Man or woman — by the way?"

"I took it that it was a boy the story was about — but it's true, Mr. Treves didn't actually say so — in fact, I remember now — he distinctly stated he would not give any particulars as to sex or age."

"Did he? Rather significant, perhaps. And he said there was a definite physical peculiarity by which he could be sure of knowing this child anywhere?"

"Yes."

"A scar, perhaps — has anybody here got a scar?"

He noticed the faint hesitation before Mary Aldin replied: "Not that I have noticed."

"Come now, Miss Aldin," he smiled. "You have noticed something. If so, don't you think that I shall be able to notice it, too?"

She shook her head.

"I — I haven't noticed anything of the kind."

But he saw that she was startled and upset. His words had obviously suggested a very unpleasant train of thought to her. He wished he knew just what it was, but his experience made him aware that to press her at this minute would not yield any result.

He brought the conversation back to old Mr. Treves. Mary told him of the tragic sequel to the evening.

Battle questioned her at some length. Then he said quietly: "That's a new one on me. Never come across that before."

"What do you mean?"

"I've never come across a murder committed by the simple expedient of hanging a placard on a lift."

She looked horrified. "You don't really think — "

"That it was murder? Of course it was! Quick, resourceful murder. It might not have come off, of course — but it did come off."

"Just because Mr. Treves knew — "

"Yes. Because he would have been able to direct our attention to one particular person in this house. As it is, we've started in the dark. But we've got a glimmer of light now, and every minute the case is getting clearer. I'll tell you this, Miss Aldin, this murder was very carefully planned beforehand down to the smallest detail. And I want to impress one thing on your mind — don't let anybody know that you've told me what you have. That is important. Don't tell anyone, mind."

Mary nodded. She was still looking dazed.

Superintendent Battle went out of the room and proceeded to do what he had been about to do when Mary Aldin intercepted him. He was a methodical man. He wanted certain information, and a new and promising hare did not distract him from the orderly performance of his duties, however tempting this new hare might be.

He tapped on the library door, and Nevile Strange's voice called "Come in."

Battle was introduced to Mr. Trelawny, a tall, distinguished-looking man with a keen, dark eye.

"Sorry if I am butting in," said Superintendent Battle apologetically. "But there's something I haven't got clear. You, Mr. Strange, inherit half the late Sir Matthew's estate, but who inherits the other half?"

Nevile looked surprised.

"I told you. My wife."

"Yes. But — " Battle coughed in a deprecating manner, "which wife, Mr. Strange?"

"Oh, I see. Yes, I expressed myself badly. The money goes to Audrey, who was my wife at the time the will was made. That's right, Mr. Trelawny?"

The lawyer assented.

"The bequest is quite clearly worded. The estate is to be divided between Sir Matthew's ward, Nevile Henry Strange, and his wife, Audrey Elizabeth Strange, nee Standish. The subsequent divorce makes no difference whatever."

"That's clear, then," said Battle . "I take it Mrs. Audrey Strange is fully aware of these facts?"

"Certainly," said Mr. Trelawny.

"And the present Mrs. Strange?"

"Kay?" Nevile looked slightly surprised. "Oh, I suppose so. At least — I've never talked much about it with her — "

"I think you'll find," said Battle , "that she's under a misapprehension. She thinks that the money on Lady Tressilian's death comes to you and your present wife. At least, that's what she gave me to understand this morning. That's why I came along to find out how the position really lay."

"How extraordinary!" said Nevile. "Still, I suppose it might have happened quite easily. She has said once or twice, now that I think about it, ‘We come into that money when Camilla dies,’ but I suppose I assumed that she was just associating herself with me in my share of it."

"It's extraordinary," said Battle , "the amount of misunderstandings there are even between two people who discuss a thing quite often — both of them assuming different things and neither of them discovering the discrepancy."

"I suppose so," said Nevile, not sounding very interested. "It doesn't matter much in this case, anyway. It's not as though we're short of money at all. I'm very glad for Audrey. She has been very hard up and this will make a big difference to her."

Battle said bluntly: "But surely, sir, at the time of the divorce, she was entitled to an allowance from you?"

Nevile flushed. He said in a constrained voice: "There is such a thing as — as pride. Superintendent. Audrey has always persistently refused to touch a penny of the allowance I wished to make her."

"A very generous allowance," put in Mr. Trelawny. "But Mrs. Strange has always returned it and refused to accept it."

"Very interesting," said Battle , and went out before anyone could ask him to elaborate that comment.

He went out and found his nephew.

"On its face value," he said, "there's a nice monetary motive for nearly everybody in this case. Nevile Strange and Audrey Strange get a cool fifty thousand each. Kay Strange thinks she's entitled to fifty thousand. Mary Aldin gets an income that frees her from having to earn her living. Thomas Royde, I'm bound to say, doesn't gain. But we can include Hurstall and even Barrett if we admit that she'd take the risk of finishing herself off to avoid suspicion. Yes, as I say, there are no lack of money motives. And yet, if I'm right, money doesn't enter into this at all. If there's such a thing as a murder for pure hate, this is it. And if no one comes along and throws a spanner into the works, I'm going to get the person who did it!"