Margot Bennett - The Man Who Didn't Fly

“I don’t believe that’s all,” Marryatt said violently. “They were in a bar. What did they drink?”

“Give me those notes, Sergeant Young. No, I don’t want them all, complete with the three-thirty at Lingfield. I want the extracts.”

Sergeant Young left the roses with a sigh, opened his coat dreamily, and selected a few pages of typescript from his inside pocket. He glanced absently through the pages, stopped for a second to read, then walked across the room, still reading.

Lewis snatched the papers from him.

“They drank whisky. Three. Twice.”

“Were they all whisky drinkers? I had some drinks with Harry. He drank beer,” Marryatt said.

Moira shook herself with an angry tremble, like an old woman remembering an insult. “Oh, come,” she said. “Harry would drink anything he could get free.”

“But he liked beer?”

“I don’t think that’s in any way conclusive,” Lewis said regretfully. “The others drank whisky on occasion, I suppose.”

“Joe did, sometimes,” Moira said. “I don’t propose to answer any more questions about him,” she added quickly.

“I’ve known Maurice to drink whisky,” Wade said.

“And you should just see the bottles in Morgan’s wardrobe,” Prudence said. “So we still don’t know what happened to Maurice.” She turned her frank unembarrassed stare on Marryatt.

“Oh, yes, we do,” Sergeant Young said reproachfully. “We know for a fact Maurice Reid flew in that plane.”

“You know what?” Lewis asked, turning on him massively. “You know it for a fact, Sergeant Young? Tell me how you arrive at this fact?”

“You remember the evidence of this numerologist, the gardener, Benson, isn’t it? You have the notes, sir. Benson said he saw one of our three men offer the others cigarettes out of his case. Here, sir. ‘One of them had some cigarettes and as I walked over with the drinks he offered cigarettes to the others.’ He was then asked if it was a packet or a case. ‘Now you mention it, I’m sure it was a case. Yes, I’d take my oath it was a case… It was a long silver case. He opened it at both of them, and one of them took a cigarette. Or did they both – now, I can’t remember. Anyway, someone lit the two cigarettes with a lighter. I remember it was a lighter, but I don’t know if it was the first man who used it. One man didn’t smoke. Now, it’s queer I noticed that, except I’m trying to give up smoking myself, so I saw that this man didn’t smoke.’”

Sergeant Young had been reading from the typed pages. Now he stopped, and looked round the room enquiringly.

“Harry smoked. He didn’t have a case. Morgan didn’t have a case? I thought not. But Maurice Reid did? Was it a long silver case?”

“Yes. I remember it. And Uncle Joe didn’t smoke at all.”

“Now just wait a minute. Not too fast,” Moira said huskily, and everyone turned to look at her. “Joe didn’t smoke cigarettes, but he often carried them to offer to other people. He carried them in a silver cigarette case, and I’m quite sure he wouldn’t go to Ireland without that case. So you see, all you’ve proved is – nothing.”

“Why don’t you keep quiet till you get that lawyer to think for you?” Marryatt asked unpleasantly. “It was a good try, anyway, Sergeant. Let’s have some more.”

Inspector Lewis made an impatient movement, and everyone was silent. He sat still for more than a minute, then stretched out his hand and took the pages from Sergeant Young. He read slowly, while they all watched him. Moira made an effort to speak, but Prudence scowled at her so fiercely that she gave up. Lewis began to smile. He looked as though he was apart from them all, enjoying some unique experience, like listening to a crystal set with the only available earphones.

“Sergeant Young was absolutely right,” he said benevolently. “Maurice Reid flew on that aeroplane. There really is no doubt at all. This passage, Sergeant.” He handed the pages to the sergeant, who read them in a bemused manner.

“Yes, I see,” he said flatly.

Lewis smiled delightedly. “Are you sure you do, Sergeant? Read the passage aloud. Let them all see.”

“‘There was a word about horses and Ireland, but next thing it was accidents and Australia, or it might have been South Africa, then I lost interest.’ When asked what they said about horses: ‘It was only the Grand National.’ When asked about Australia: ‘Nothing about Australia. It might have been South Africa. It was a place like that. No it wasn’t New Zealand. It was South Africa or Australia. I’ll swear to one of them. I’ve a cousin in one and an uncle in the other, so I’m sure of my facts… One of them says to another that reminds me about something that happened to me once. I had a premonition, he says, or words to that effect, when I was in Australia, or South Africa, and you haven’t been there, have you, he says to that other, crushing the opposition. No, says the other, But I have, says the third man, interrupting, Isn’t it time we left?”’

Sergeant Young put the paper down slowly, and stopped to consider what he had been reading. “I’ll have to look at my notes,” he said doubtfully. “No I won’t. I remember. It’s all there. Oh, sir, that’s a very nice piece of reasoning.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Hester said slowly.

“I do. I do!” Prudence cried, “No, wait. I wish I had a pencil.”

“I don’t think I know all the facts,” Marryatt said. “Harry had been in Australia. Had he been in South Africa? No?”

“No, he hadn’t,” Hester said. “Maurice had been in both. Morgan—”

“You told us,” Inspector Lewis said happily. “You told us all of them. Morgan had been in South Africa, but not Australia. Maurice Reid had been in both. And Mr Ferguson—”

“I’ve told you already. Joe had never been in that part of the world,” Moira admitted cautiously.

“So Maurice was one of the three men there, one of the three men on the aeroplane. I follow,” Marryatt said. “So that’s over.” He didn’t specify what he meant. He spoke in a voice that was hard and sharp, like an iron fence erected quickly to keep other people out of his private world. “I’ll be getting along, then. I think I’d like some fresh air.”

“No, stay,” the inspector said. “We haven’t finished, have we, Mr Wade?”

Wade turned his handsome, muddled face to the inspector. “Poor Maurice,” he said, sighing.

“But I don’t understand,” Hester said. “Do you, Father?”

“I – actually, I haven’t been following at all. I see something’s there, but I can’t see how it proves anything. Poor Maurice!”

“I’ll explain,” Inspector Lewis said, very glad of the opportunity. “Listen. Harry had been in Australia, but not South Africa. Morgan was the reverse. He’d been in South Africa, but not Australia. Mr Ferguson had been in neither. Maurice Reid had been in both. Now what’s the evidence? One of the three men in the Fairway Arms, and these three were certainly the three who flew in the plane, one of them made a remark that showed he had been in South Africa or Australia. The second man hadn’t been there. The third man stated he had been in the country referred to. Now, as we couldn’t get the landlord to be more explicit, we can’t know who made the remark, or even who answered it, but we can prove Maurice Reid was present.”

“Please wait. Oh, if only I’d had a pencil, I’d have seen it first,” Prudence said.

“One of the four men who were supposed to have travelled in the plane must have made the initial remark,” Lewis continued implacably. “Joseph Ferguson had been in neither country, so he can be excluded. Any of the other three could have said it. If Harry Walters made the initial remark, saying, for instance, ‘It happened when I was in Australia, have you been there?’ only Maurice Reid could have said, ‘Yes, I have.’ So if Harry made the remark, Maurice Reid was present. If Morgan Price said: ‘It happened to me in South Africa, have you been there?’ only Maurice Reid could have said, ‘Yes, I have.’ And if Maurice made the initial remark, either Harry or Morgan could say, ‘Yes, I’ve been there!”’