Arthur Upfield - Murder Must Wait

Bony smiled.

“Remember the order to tell you nothing until the breakfast is served?”

“Yes, I remember,” Essen chuckled. “What a girl! Ten thousand women in one, and to date I’ve only seen about six of them: mother, man-handler, sleuth, home-manager, infant-welfare expert, and dictator.”

“The order doesn’t prevent you informing me on the movements of Mr Cyril Martin, Junior.”

“That’s so. Young Martin’s been in town two days, arriving late the day before yesterday. The last time he was here he stayed with a pal who owns a vineyard about two miles down-river. That was from January 26th or 27th to February 10th. He was in Mitford on February 1st and 10th, because on those days he booked petrol at the Service Station.”

“Where is he staying now?”

“With his parents,” Essen replied.“Must have patched it up with the old man.”

“The patching could have fallen apart, Essen. I heard them in heated argument at the father’s office.” Bony paused, to add:

“Even that must wait.”

They were discussing Tracker Wilmot’s spurs when Alice returned with a tray, which she set before Bony and at once poured his coffee. She returned Bony’s smile before sitting beside Essen on the far side of the desk and examining her chief with critical eyes.

“What have you to report, Alice?” he asked, sipping coffee and holding a sandwich in the other hand.

“I went to the Delph house and called on my bosom friend the cook. They seem to treat her pretty well, and as she had cleaned up for the day she’d gone to her room. Her room is at the back of the house, where there’s a small cottage for the domestic staff, but she’s the only domestic. There’s a house telephone in her room.

“Anyway, we settled for a half bottle of gin and a few bottles of dry, and I got the news of the day. Everything went as usual until half past three in the afternoon, when the doctor came in and Mrs Delph rang for afternoon tea. The cook took it to the lounge, where there was a hot argument going on between the doctor and his wife over the usual; the usual, according to the cook, being the monthly plonk bill.

“The cook had cleared away the tea things and was preparing the vegetables for dinner when the telephone in the hall rang and Mrs Delph answered it. Mrs Delph called loudly to her husband, who came from somewhere. She said something the cook couldn’t hear, and then let out a screech like areefered* galah. The doctor shouted, and then spoke a bit softer into the phone. A moment after that he shouted for the cook. *Reefered: A close-fitting jacket or short coat of thick cloth.

“When the cook reached the hall, the doctor was bending over Mrs Delph, who was lying on her back on the floor and yelling over and over the one word ‘No’. The doctor told the cook to try to pacify her, and he rushed away to his surgery and came back with a hypodermic and gave his wife a shot. It put her out in under the minute, and they carried her to her bedroom and the cook undressed her and put her to bed. Afterwards, Dr Delph told the cook they had received a badshock, that someone at the bank had rung to say Mr Bulford had killed himself.

“Later, when the cook was setting the table for dinner, she heard the doctor phoning a telegram to the Post Office. It was to Dr Nonning, Mrs Delph’s brother down in Melbourne, telling him she had had a nervous breakdown and asking him to come up at once and help. After that nothing happened. When she had cleaned up, she asked Dr Delph if she could do anything for Mrs Delph, and he said he would nurse her and she could go off for the night.

“I left most of the gin with Cookie and found a phone-booth and reported to Sergeant Yoti as you ordered. From there I went to the Olympic Bank. There were three cars outside. There were lights in the rooms over the bank, and the light outside the private door was on. So I got into the vacant place next-door and took a stand against the fence opposite the private door and waited to see who came out.

“I had been there less than twenty minutes when Dr Delph drove up and came along the lane to ring the door-bell. It was Professor Marlo-Jones who let him in, not Mrs Bulford, and as neither said a word, I thought they’d done a spot of telephoning and Dr Delph had come to give Mrs Bulford a shot, too.

“Anyway, I spent two hours fighting the mosquitoes, when the door opened and the visitors came out. With them was Mrs Bulford, so she couldn’t have had a shot, and by the look of her she didn’t need one.

“There was Professor Marlo-Jones and his wife, DrDelph, that Mrs Coutts and her husband, the Town Engineer, and another man and woman I didn’t know by name. They were at the plonk party. After they’d gone I waited around, and when all the upstairs lights were out I reckoned Mrs Bulford had gone to bed, and I went off to get a couple of cups of coffee and a meat pie before going back to the Delph’s place.

“In the hall there was a light on, and lights were on in one of the front rooms and one at the side. I had seen a seat just inside the front gate and I sat there and again squashed my blood from mosquitoes. Nothing happened all night, and the lights remained on. It was near dawn when the car came, and then I happened to be out in the street walking up and down to keep the circulation going. This car was a big one, and it drove straight through the gateway as though the driver knew the place well.

“Even before the car stopped at the front entrance, Dr Delph came out. He said to the driver:

“ ‘Hullo, Jim. Made good time.’

“ ‘Yes, I let her go and the road’s empty at night,’ said the driver. ‘Could only bring one nurse at such short notice. How’s the patient?’

“ ‘Keepher quiet, Jim,’ said Dr Delph, and Jim opened the door of the car and helped two women out. One of them was introduced as Miss Watson, but the other was known to Delph, who called her Dicky. The women went inside, Dicky apparently knowing her way round, and as the men were unloading the luggage Jim said: ‘Brought Dicky along to run the house for a bit. Miss Watson’s a good nurse, and discreet. She can be trusted.’

“ ‘Ifyou say so,’ Delph said. ‘Good of Dicky to come. What about those other people? The sooner this last business is cleared up the better.’

“ ‘That’swhat I thought,’ said Jim. ‘I told them to come at eleven tonight, and gave the husband the usual instructions.’

“And that was all they said for me to hear,” concluded Alice.

“Usual instructions?” pressed Bony.

“Yes,” replied Alice. “As it was getting too light for me to stay any longer, I went home for a couple of hours’ shut-eye. Driver Jim is Dr James Nonning.”

“And Dicky?”Bony asked, faintly mocking.

“Must be Nonning’s wife.”

“How come you to think that?”

“Both the doctors were polite to Miss Watson the nurse. They didn’t bother about Dicky, so she must have been Nonning’s wife.”

“Sound deduction, Alice, and ninety-per-cent correct. But remember there are a few husbands like me. Now off you go, both of you. Go back to bed and rest, because we’ll all be on the job tonight.”

“I’ll be ready. I’m sure I could sleep for eight hours and Mr Essen must be really unconscious.” Alice rose and Essen looked at her suspiciously. At the door Alice paused to enquire, expectantly:

“Did you do any good last night?”

“Oh, yes,” airily replied Bony. “I found another Moses in the bulrushes.”

“What… You found…” Alice’s face lost its official woodenness, became swiftly eager. “Not a… a…”

“The admissions you drag from me, Alice! Nothing more. Now be off and let me change. Report at eight tonight.”