Arthur Upfield - Venom House

“She seems unusually masculine,” Bony observed.

“I’ll be candid, sir,” Mawson said, grimly. “There’s no one in this district I’m afraid to handle if he has to be handled. Excepting that he-woman. She’s ruddy dynamite. I’m more than glad that Headquarters sent you down here at once.”

“I was not sent, Mawson. I chose to come. The case promised interest, in view of the other murder. We’ll discuss that tonight. Tomorrow we’ll visit the scene and pay our respects to the Misses Answerth. May I hope for your co-operation?”

Mawson made no effort to hide his eagerness.

“Certainly, sir. Only too pleased to give a hand. Inspector Stanley didn’t want any co-operation when he came down on the Carlow drowning.”

“And failed to finalize it, Mawson,” Bony reminded. “I understand that you have been stationed here eight years, and therefore would know the district and the people as well as your own quarters and your family. I am familiar with Inspector Stanley’s attitude to the uniformed men. He cross-examined you, and you felt he was trying to trap you into making an error. Naturally, you were unable to give of your best. He wanted only the bald facts, I’m sure. In addition to facts, Mawson, I shall want from you opinions, suppositions, ideas. I shall want you to treat me as a colleague, and eventually as a friend. Thus we shall succeed.”

“Glad to hear it, sir. It’s like breathing fresh air to listen to you.”

“Good! Take your first breath by omitting the “sir” when there isn’t a third party present. I am Bony to all my friends. Even the Chief Commissioner calls me Bony to my face. Did you ever meet him?”

“Only on Passing-Out Parade.”

“Choleric, Mawson. Horrible blood pressure. I am sometimes concerned that he will drop dead before me… when damning and blasting me for declining to obey orders at the double. But at heart a kindly man, Mawson. Likemyself, Colonel Spendor is unable to suffer fools gladly or otherwise. So this is Edison.”

“This is Edison,” repeated Mawson.“Situation very healthy. People just like people of other towns, having the same virtues and vices. One pub, two churches, three banks. The bank managers don’t associate with the publican, who could buy up the banks, and thepublican don’t associate with the parsons. Usual women’s leagues and such-like. Average number of drunks, till-ticklers, scandal-mongers and snobs.”

And yet, Bony found Edison in advance of “other towns”. When the track became a macadamized road, the policeman’s car began to work up a long slope. The road entered the town, and Main Street continued the slope upward. They passed a bank, some shops and the Shire Hall. They stopped beside the service car halted outside a dilapidated tin shed, from which Mike Falla emerged to transfer Bony’s case. They proceeded up Main Street, passing the police station on one side and the home ofThe Edison News on the other. Bony caught a glimpse of the butcher’s shop, other banks, a church either side the street.

The hotel was of red brick, a modern monstrosity and a travesty in this street of weatherboard and cement sheet and corrugated iron. Then Bony was looking at a neat little villa at the very top end of the street, guarded by two poplars and a white-painted picket fence. He was given a momentary vision of wide spaces in which lay folds of tree-covered hills, long white sand dunes, a wide arc of vivid blue sea. The light abruptly dimmed, and he found himself in a small hall furnished with a hat-stand, two chairs and a telephone on a small table. He heard Constable Mawson say:

“My sister, Mrs Nash. Inspector Bonaparte, Jean. Like to put up here for a bit.”

He bowed to a gaunt, grey-haired woman in her early forties. He was not charmed, for her face was wrecked by recent illness, and her dark eyes were without expression. One second that impression lasted. The next second she was smiling at him. The dark eyes were alive. The lips were parted in a smile of welcome, and swiftly-drawn lines brushed away all the hardness.

He was introduced to a large front bedroom exceptionally well furnished, and then to the lounge, colourful and inviting, which he could consider his own. Having showered and dressed, he was introduced to the dining-room, where he ate a first-class meal with his hostess and her daughter.

When the light was almost gone from the inverted celestial bowl resting upon the world at a lower altitude than the town, he entered the office of the police station to find Constable Mawson at his desk.

“Now, now, Mawson, don’t get up. Smoke if you wish. Both of us will probably do a lot of hard smoking before we’re through.”

“Thank you, sir… Bony.”

Bony drew a second chair to the side of the constable’s desk, and proceeded to manufacture an alleged cigarette.

“The P.M. report come in yet?” he asked.

“Doctor said he’d like to bring it himself. Suggests I ring him when convenient to you.”

“Oh! Considerate. Better call him now.”

Mawson’s hand was beginning to reach for the instrument when its alternating buzzer demanded attention. Mawson lifted the instrument. Bony could hear the distant voice. The policeman looked at him beneath quizzing sandy brows. He spoke with grave politeness.

“Yes, the Inspector is here now. Yes, very well.”

The large sandy-haired hand was cupped about the mouthpiece.

“Miss Answerth wants to speak to you,” he said. “Miss Janet Answerth.”

“Oh! Oh, how d’you do, Inspector Bonaparte. I’m Janet Answerth. I’m so glad you are available. You can spare me a few minutes?”

The voice was soft and theenunciation clear save for a slight lisp. What could have been nervousness in the caller Bony at once unchivalrously attributed to woman’s paving the way to the naming of a want. He was right, too.

“Yes, Miss Answerth. What can I do for you?” he purred.

“I’ve been wondering, Inspector, if we can come in the morning for poor Mother’s body. I do hope… I hope, indeed… that Doctor Lofty didn’t think it necessary to mutilate it. Mary, my sister, has been most upset. You will forgive her for being a trifle brusque, won’t you?”

“Naturally, Miss Answerth.”

“You see, Inspector, we often read of these dreadful things in the newspapers, and then when we are ourselves involved in such a tragedy we are horrified that anything of the kind could enter our lives. You will understand, I’m sure. We hate to think of poor Mother lying cut up on a cold slab or something. It’s just too grim. You will let us come for her in the morning?”

“Regretfully, Miss Answerth, I am unable to make a decision,” Bony told her. “However, I shall be calling on you at nine tomorrow morning, and may be able to advise you.”

“Oh!” There was a distinct pause. “You wish to come here?”

“To make a few enquiries. Formality, you understand.”

“Yes, of course, Inspector. How silly of me to be shocked by the idea of a visit from a detective-inspector. I will arrange that the boat is ready to bring you. You see, the causeway is dangerous to anyone who doesn’t know just where the deep holes are. It’s under water. We can easily wade over it, but as the water is often coloured, strangers cannot see it and would step into a deep hole for sure.”

“Very well, Miss Answerth. At nine in the morning.”

“You really could not decide to let us have the body… in the morning?”

“No.”

The negative reply was softly but stressfully given, and the voice from the Answerth house betrayed nothing of disappointment when the conversation terminated.

“Your opinion of Janet Answerth?”Bony asked Mawson.

“Very nice little woman,” replied the constable.“Much younger than the other, more civilized. Reminds me somehow of a little moorhen. Quite a good type, I think.”