Alan Hunter - Gently Does It

Gently finished his piece of toast and licked his fingers. ‘Fisher came in through the kitchen just after lunch and went upstairs to Gretchen’s room. There was nobody in the kitchen and nobody saw him enter. Gretchen went up with her coffee and stayed there with him. When Peter arrived they went out on the landing to see who it was — Fisher was the person Peter caught sight of — and directly he had gone to the study Fisher left Gretchen on the landing and went into the passage. Gretchen heard the quarrel from the landing. It ended, and she waited two or three minutes for Fisher to come back, but he didn’t come back, and at the end of that two or three minutes she heard the old man’s death scream.

‘By the time she pulled herself together and went down the murderer had gone. She met nobody in the passage and saw nobody in the study, and feeling certain that Fisher was the man, she took away the knife and wiped the prints off the handle. When she got back to the bedroom Fisher was already there. He expressed surprise when she told him what she had found, and suggested going out and establishing the alibis. They went out by the study and the timber-yard. Fisher exhibited no interest in the body when he passed it. I discovered by questioning that he was not even aware that the knife had been removed. Fisher’s version differs inasmuch as he claims that he never left the landing, otherwise they pretty well agree.’

‘Then he was the person in the drawing-room?’ interrupted the super, biting mechanically at a fresh piece of toast.

‘Unquestionably. Otherwise, he could not have got back to the bedroom without being seen by Gretchen. Of course, we don’t know at what point he entered. He may have gone in straight away, watched the quarrel, seen the murder, seen Gretchen go in and then slipped back to the bedroom… or he may not.’

‘You’re telling me he may not! But what about the money?’

‘I’m not sure about that. If Fisher was the murderer I think he must have come back for it, after he’d got rid of Gretchen. He might have come back for it anyway, though I don’t think it’s likely. At all events there was too much of it to carry about his person. There is, incidentally, some indication that Fisher has come into money just recently.’

‘And that’s one of the seven deadly sins in criminal investigation.’ The super’s eyes glistened. ‘By God, Gently, you certainly get results. I’ll let this be a lesson to me.’

Gently shook his head. ‘It’s mostly one witness against another at the moment. We’ve got to have proof.’

‘We’ll get proof. I’ll get a warrant and take his flat apart, brick by brick, and if the money’s there we’ll find it. And I’ll make him talk, if I have to question him from now to Christmas.’

‘He won’t talk if he’s the murderer.’

‘Then if he doesn’t talk I’ll charge him with it.’

‘I shouldn’t be too hasty about that…’ began Gently, and broke off. Hansom came striding into the room, followed by Police Constable Letts. ‘Look at this!’ boomed Hansom, ‘look at this!’ And he waved a limp piece of paper under the super’s nose. The super stared at it. ‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘What is it!’ ‘It’s another of the Huysmann notes — it’s just been turned in by the bank!’

The super grabbed it as though it were a rare visitant from another world. ‘Where did they get it?’ he exclaimed.

‘It was paid in this afternoon by “The Doll’s Hospital”.’

‘By the what?’

‘“The Doll’s Hospital”.’

The super goggled at Hansom. ‘And what the blazing blue hell is “The Doll’s Hospital”…?’

‘Excuse me, sir…’ Constable Letts slid round the mass that was Hansom. ‘“The Doll’s Hospital” is a toy-shop in St Benedict’s, sir.’

‘And what the devil has that got to do with the Huysmann case?’

Gently said: ‘What sort of toy-shop is it?’

‘It’s one of those that goes in for Meccano sets and that sort of thing, sir.’

‘Does it sell scale model aeroplanes?’

‘Yes, sir. It’s got a window full of them.’

‘Fisher!’ yipped Hansom, catching on with commendable suddenness. ‘He told us he built scale models in his spare time.’

The super shot a meaningful glance at Gently. ‘You wanted proof, by golly…!’ He turned to Hansom. ‘We’re pulling in Fisher right away. Wait here till I get warrants — I’m in on this party — and send a patrol car round to his flat.’

Ten minutes later the super’s Humber bumbled over the ruts of Paradise Alley and pulled up beside the patrol car. A police sergeant ran round and saluted. ‘There doesn’t seem to be anybody at home, sir,’ he said.

‘Is the door locked?’ snapped the super.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Smash it in, then.’

‘Very good, sir.’

The super, Gently and Hansom climbed out and watched the sergeant direct smashing operations. It was not the best of doors. It yielded easily to one constable-power. The super, eager to draw blood, went bounding up the narrow stairs, Hansom in close pursuit. Gently followed at a more sedate pace. ‘He’s not here!’ bawled Hansom, emerging from the bedroom. ‘Try the lounge,’ suggested Gently, ‘it’s a bit before his bedtime…’ He wandered into the kitchen after the super, who was making great play with a wall-cupboard full of junk. ‘Hell’s… bells!’ came from Hansom. ‘Chiefy — for God’s sake come and look at this lot!’ ‘What have you found, Hansom?’ barked the super. ‘Just come and look at it!’ The super bounced across the dingy landing, Gently following. Hansom stood back, tallow-faced.

Sprawled on the floor of the sitting-room, mouth open, eyes staring, was Fisher. His throat was cut down from the ear on the right side. A blood-stained razor, which Gently recognized, lay near his right hand and on the couch near him, neatly stacked, stood a fabulous pile of treasury notes.

Alan Hunter

Gently Does It

G ENTLY, HAVING SEEN enough, went out and sat in the Humber while the police medico made his examination. After him came the photographer, whose flash-bulbs could be seen popping through the unmasked window. Hansom and the super came out in conference with the medico. ‘… Naturally, it’s always possible,’ said the medico, ‘any self-inflicted wound may have been the result of an attack… we can only offer proof the other way round, viz., that a certain wound could not have been self-inflicted. But there is no suggestion of that here. I am perfectly satisfied that this is a bona fide case of suicide.’

‘I wasn’t querying the present case,’ grunted the super. ‘I could see that for myself with half an eye.’

Hansom said: ‘And Gently recognizes the razor… it’s the one he cut out the models with.’

They came up to the car and Gently got out. ‘You might well say that Fisher was getting worried,’ said the super to him, a trifle grimly.

‘He didn’t seem so terribly worried when I last saw him… just a bit on edge.’

The super shook his head. ‘You must put the fear of the Lord into people without realizing it. Well… I suppose it’s saved a deal of trouble and expense, though personally I should have got a lot of satisfaction out of putting him in dock. We can let young Huysmann go now.’

Hansom said: ‘I still can’t quite get this straight… I feel like a kid who’s got his sums wrong. But I hand it to you, Gently. You were right and I was wrong… I reckon they don’t put you in the Central Office at the Yard for nothing.’

‘You weren’t the only one who was wrong,’ growled the super. ‘It just goes to show… you need specialists when it comes to homicide.’ He glanced at Gently, half-admiring, half-jealous. ‘I suppose it gets to be an instinct when someone’s been on the job as long as you have.’