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Alan Hunter: Gently Does It

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Alan Hunter Gently Does It

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Hansom continued: ‘When did you go to the study?’

‘I went there straight away, to ask Mr Huysmann what time he wanted tea.’

‘Was that usual?’ chipped in Gently.

‘Yes, it was usual! He didn’t have no set times for his meals. You had to go and ask him.’

‘That would be a few minutes after 5 p.m.?’ proceeded Hansom.

‘About five-past, I should think.’

‘And you knocked on the door and entered?’

‘That was how he told us to go in.’

‘Tell us what you saw when you entered.’

‘Well, I just see Mr Huysmann lying there sort of twisted like, as though he might have had a fit.’

‘Was he lying in the same position as he was when the police arrived?’

‘I might have moved him a little bit, but not much. I thought as how he was took ill. I tried to get him up, but when I saw all the blood under him I knew that something horrible had happened, so I put him back again.’

‘And then?’

‘Then I went for Susan and told her to get the police.’

‘Did Susan go into the study?’

‘No, I told her not to. That was bad enough for me, who’ve seen dead people. I nearly went out when I got back to the kitchen.’

‘A telephone message was received at headquarters at 5.17 p.m. That was ten minutes after you would have returned to the kitchen.’

‘Well, there I was in a bad way, I had Susan fetch me some brandy. And then Miss Gretchen, she came back and had to be told.’

‘What time did Miss Huysmann return?’

‘About a quarter past five, I suppose it was.’

‘At which door did she enter?’

‘She came in the front, of course. Susan was just going through to phone and she see Miss Gretchen in the hall and tell her.’

‘How did Miss Huysmann take the news?’

‘Well, she’s always a very quiet sort of girl, but she was mortal pale when she came into the kitchen. I gave her a sip of brandy to pull her together.’

‘Was Susan at all surprised when Miss Huysmann came in?’

‘She said: “Oh — I thought you was still in your room, miss.”’

Hansom paused, leaned back in his chair and appeared to be studying the rash his cigar-ash had made on his blotter. The constable beside him scribbled industriously. Outside the rain made a soft quiet noise, like the sound of time itself. The housekeeper sat upright and rocked very gently backwards and forwards.

Hansom said: ‘You have been a long time in this family, Mrs Turner. Certain private matters concerning it must have come to your notice. Can you think of anything which may have a bearing on the present tragedy?’

The housekeeper’s face changed to defensive righteousness. ‘There’s Mr Peter,’ she said, ‘he’s no secret.’

‘Is there anybody else connected with Mr Huysmann who, to your knowledge, may have had a grudge against him?’

‘I daresay there’s several people as weren’t over-fond of him. He was a long way from being open-handed. But I can’t think of anybody who’d want to do a thing like this.’

‘Did you know that Mr Huysmann proposed to make a fresh will disinheriting his son?’

‘Oh yes. He’d been talking about that ever since Mr Peter got married.’

Gently said: ‘How long ago was that?’

The housekeeper thought for a moment. ‘It’ll be just on two years,’ she replied.

‘Did Peter know about it two years ago?’

‘Mr Huysmann told him before he got married.’

Gently nodded his slow, complacent nod. Hansom glared across at him. ‘Is there anything else you’d like to ask before we let Mrs Turner go?’ he asked bitingly.

Gently placed his fingers neatly together. ‘Was the safe door open or closed when you discovered the body?’ he said.

‘It was open.’

‘And how about the outer door?’

‘I think it was closed.’

‘Ah,’ said Gently. He leaned forward in his chair. ‘At the time the murder was discovered, are you positive that Susan and yourself were the only persons in the house?’ he asked.

The housekeeper’s face registered surprise followed by indignation. ‘If there had been anyone else I should have said so,’ she retorted magnificently.

‘Is there anybody not so far mentioned whom you would not have been surprised to find in the house at that time in the afternoon?’

She paused. ‘Well, there’s the chauffeur, but he was off duty. And there might have been someone from the yard about business.’

Gently nodded again and rested his chin on his thumbs. ‘This room we’re in,’ he said, ‘was it last cleaned before lunch yesterday?’

‘You’d best ask Susan about that. It should have been done.’

‘To your knowledge, did anybody enter it after the discovery of the murder?’

‘There was nothing to come in here about.’

Gently leant far back into his chair, elevated his paired fingers and looked through them at the ceiling. ‘During the time when you were not at your sister’s yesterday,’ he said, ‘would you have been… somewhere else… for the purpose of taking alcoholic refreshment?’

The housekeeper’s face turned scarlet. She jumped to her feet, her eyes flashing, and seemed on the point of a scathing denial. Then, with an effort, she checked herself and flung out of the room like an outraged duchess.

Gently smiled through the cage of his fingers. ‘Pass me,’ he said dreamily, ‘there’s one alibi less on my list.’

Gently was eating a peppermint cream when Susan came in. He had offered one to Hansom as a sort of olive branch, but Hansom had refused it, and after counting those that remained in the bag Gently was not sorry. He had a feeling that Norchester would not be very productive of peppermint creams on a Sunday, especially a wet Sunday, and the prospect of running short was a bleak one. Life was hard enough without a shortage of peppermint creams.

Susan was a pretty, pert blonde girl with a tilted bra and an accentuated behind. She wore a smile as a natural part of her equipment. She had a snub nose and dimples and a pleased expression, and had a general supercharged look, as though she was liable to burst out of her black dress and stockings into a fierce nudity.

The constable with the shorthand notebook sighed as she took her seat. He was a young man. Hansom ran through the preliminaries of identification and association.

‘What time did the family finish lunch, Miss Stibbons?’ he asked.

Susan leant her bewitching head on one side. ‘It would be about two o’clock, Inspector. It was quarter past when I went to clear away.’

‘Did Mr Huysmann go to his study directly after lunch?’

‘I wouldn’t know, Inspector. But he was there when I took him his coffee.’

‘When was that?’

‘It would be about half-past two, I should think.’

‘What was he doing then?’

‘He was standing by the window, looking at the garden.’

‘Did he make any remark out of the ordinary?’

The bewitching head dipped over an errant blush. ‘We-ell, Inspector…’

‘Did he lead you to suppose he was expecting a visitor?’

‘No… he didn’t give me that impression.’

Hansom looked her over thoughtfully. He was only forty himself. ‘What did Miss Huysmann do after lunch?’ he asked.

‘She took her coffee up to her room.’

‘She apparently left the house shortly afterwards to go to the pictures. She says she left at half-past two. You didn’t see her go?’

‘No, Inspector.’

‘Did she take her coffee to her room before you took Mr Huysmann’s to him?’

‘Oh yes, she came and got it from the kitchen.’

‘You didn’t hear the front-door bell between the time she took her coffee and the time you went to the study with Mr Huysmann’s?’

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