Dorothy Sayers - Have His Carcass

‘Oh Inspector! I’m so glad to see you. I began to think I never should get hold of anybody with any common-sense about them. I’ve had a trunk-call, Mr Hearn. I don’t know what it costs, but here’s a ten-bob note. I’ll call for the change another time. I’ve told my friends I shall be stuck in Wilvercombe for a few days, Inspector. I suppose that’s right, isn’t it?’

This was disingenuous, but novelists and police-inspectors do not always see eye to eye as regards publicity.

‘That’s right, miss. Have to ask you to stay on a bit while we look into this. Better jump into the car and we’ll run out to where you say you saw this body. This gentleman is Dr Fenchurch. This is Sergeant Saunders.’

Harriett acknowledged the introduction.

‘Why I’ve been brought along I don’t know,’ said the police-surgeon in an aggrieved voice. ‘If this man was down near low-water mark at two o’clock, we shan’t see much of him tonight. Tide’s more than half-full now, and a strong wind blowing.’

‘That’s the devil of it,’ agreed the Inspector.

‘I know,’ said Harriet, mournfully, ‘but really I did my best.’ She recounted the details of her odyssey, mentioning everything — she had done at the rock and producing the shoe, the cigarette-case, the hat, the handkerchief and the razor.

‘Well, there,’ said the Inspector, ‘you seem to have done a pretty tidy job, miss. Anybody’d think you’d made a study of it. Taking photographs and all. Not but what,’ he added, sternly, ‘if you’d started sooner, you’d have been here be ‘I didn’t waste; much time,’ pleaded Harriet, ‘and I thought, supposing the body got washed away, or anything, it would be better to have some record of it.’

‘That’s very true, miss, and I shouldn’t wonder but what you did the right thing. Looks like a big wind rising; and that’ll hold the tide up.’

‘Due south-west it is’ put in the policeman who was driving the car. ‘That there rock will be awash; next low tide if it goes on like this, and with the sea running it’ll be a bit of a job to get out there.’

‘Yes,’ said the Inspector. ‘The current sets very strong round the bay, and you can’t get a boat in past the Grinders — not without you want her bottom stove in.’

Indeed, when they arrived at ‘Murder Bay’, as Harriet had mentally christened it, there were no signs of the rock, still less of the body. The sea was half-way up the sand, rolling in heavily. The little line of breakers that had shown the hidden tops of the Grinders reef had disappeared. The wind was freshening still more, and the sun gleamed in spasms of brilliance, between thickening banks of cloud..

‘That’s the place, miss, is it?’ asked: the Inspector.

‘Oh, yes, that’s the place,’ replied Harriet, confidently.

The Inspector shook his head.

‘There’s seventeen, feet of water over that rock by now,’ he said. ‘Tide’ll be full in another hour. Can’t do anything about it now. Have to wait for low’ tide. That’ll be two ack emma, or thereabouts, Have to see if there’s any chance of getting out to it then, but if you ask me, it’s working up for roughish weather. There’s the chance, of course, that the body may get washed off and come ashore somewhere. I’ll run you up to Brennerton, Saunders; try and get some of the men there to keep a look-out-up and, down the shore, and I’ll cut along back to Wilvercombe and see what I can arrange about; getting a boat, out. You’ll have to come along with me, miss, and make a statement.’

‘By all means,’ said Harriet, rather faintly.

The Inspector turned round and took a look at her.

‘I expect you’re feeling a bit upset, miss,’ he said, kindly, and no wonder. It’s not a pleasant thing for a young lady to have to deal with. It’s a miracle to me, the way you handled it. Why, most young ladies would have run away, let alone taking away all these boots and things.’

‘Well, you see,’ explained Harriet, ‘I know what ought to be done. I write detective stories, you know,’ she added, feeling as she spoke that this must appear to the Inspector an idle and foolish occupation.

‘There now,’ said the Inspector. ‘It isn’t often, I daresay, you get a chance of putting your own stories into practice, as you might say. What did you say your name was, miss? Not that I read those sort of books much, except it might be Edgar Wallace now and again, but I’ll have to know your name, of course, in any case.’

Harriet gave her name and her London address. The Inspector seemed to come to attention rather suddenly.

‘I fancy I’ve heard that name before,’ he remarked.

‘Yes,’ said Harriet, a little’ grimly; ‘I expect you have. I am—’ she laughed rather uncomfortably ‘I’m the notorious Harriet Vane, who was tried for poisoning’ Philip Boyes two years ago.’

‘Ah, just so!’ replied the Inspector. ‘Yes. They got the fellow who did it, too, didn’t they? Arsenic case. Yes, of course. There was some very pretty medical evidence at the trial, if I remember rightly. Smart piece of work. Lord Peter Wimsey had something to do with it, didn’t he?’

‘Quite a lot,’ said Harriet.

‘He seems; to be a clever. gentleman,’ observed the Inspector. ‘One’s always hearing of him doing something or other.’

Yes,’ agreed Harriet; ‘he’s — full of activities.’

You’ll know him very well, I expect?’ pursued the Inspector, filled with what Harriet felt to be unnecessary curiosity.

‘Oh, yes, quite well. Yes, of course.’ It struck her that this sounded ungracious, seeing that Wimsey had undoubtedly saved her from a very disagreeable position, if not from an ignominious death, and she went on, hastily and stiltedly, ‘I have a great deal to thank him for.’

‘Naturally,’ replied the Inspector. ‘Not but what (loyally) ‘Scotland Yard would probably have got the right man in the end. Still’ (here local patriotism seemed to take the upper hand), ‘they haven’t the advantages in some ways that we have. They, can’t know all the people in London same as we know everybody hereabouts. Stands to reason they couldn’t. Now, in a case like this one here, ten to one we shall be able to find all about the young man in a turn of the hand, as you might say.’

‘He may be a visitor,’ said Harriet.

‘Very likely,’ said the Inspector, ‘but I expect there’ll be somebody that knows about him, all the same. This is where you get off, Saunders. Raise all the help you can, and get Mr Coffin to run you over to Wilvercombe when you’re through. Now then, miss.’ What did you say this young chap was like?’

Harriet again described the corpse.

Beard, eh?’ said the Inspector. ‘Sounds like a foreigner, doesn’t it? I can’t just place him for the moment, but there’s not much doubt he’ll be pretty easily traced. Now, here we are at the police-station, miss. If you’ll just step in here a minute, the Superintendent would like to see you.’

Harriet accordingly stepped in and told her story once again, this time in minute detail, to Superintendent Glaisher, who received it with flattering interest. She handed over the various things taken from the body and her roll of film, and was then questioned exhaustively as to how she had spent the day, both before and after finding the body.

‘By the way,’ said the Superintendent, ‘this young fellow you met on the road what’s become of him?’

Harriet stared about her as though she expected to find Mr Perkins still at her elbow.

‘I haven’t the slightest idea. I’d forgotten all about him. He must have gone off while I was ringing you up.’

‘Odd,’ said Glaisler, making a note to inquire after Mr Perkins.