Leslie Charteris - The Saint Around the World

“Go on.”

“What a wonderful gag, Claud! He passes himself off as his own housekeeper, and creates an identity that a dozen tradesmen and villagers will vouch for — only telling his wife that he can’t find anyone and he’s doing all the housework himself. Being confined to her bed, she never saw him go out or come in in that costume, and they never had visitors. So when she’s found dead, and her jewels are stolen, and Mrs Jafferty has disappeared, it’s so obvious that he doesn’t need much of an alibi. The beetle brains of the CID are so busy combing the country for Mrs Jafferty that they’d never think of anything else.”

“But what did you do ? Teal almost howled.

“I didn’t stop there. In the top drawer of his dresser I found those gloves he had on, and a small crowbar which is now on the floor of his wife’s bedroom where he used it to jimmy her jewel drawer. No doubt someone would swear Mrs Jafferty bought it. I went to the maid’s room. There were a few clothes and personal articles which a woman like that would have — he was that thorough. And I also found this, which you can bet Mrs Jafferty bought from the local chemist.”

He produced a small dark bottle from his pocket and handed it over.

“Believe me, Claud, that was a jolt. I’d hoped to goose him into something rash, but it was meant to be something that I could move in fast and prevent — like perhaps a clonk on the head with that crowbar. And now I was certain that this was the night, with him going to London and Mrs Jafferty supposedly out. But poison…”

Adrienne Halberd was reading the label on the bottle over Teal’s shoulder, and her face had gone white.

“She had a lovely plate of Irish stew,” said the Saint remorselessly. “I said, just to clinch it: ‘I bet your cook is an Irish woman.’ ‘Oh, no,’ she said, ‘we haven’t been able to get a cook for weeks. My husband has to do everything, but he does it so well—’  ”

A sort of inarticulate sob came from the talented husband, and Mr Teal somewhat belatedly remembered an official obligation.

“Mr Clarron,” he said formally, “it’s my duty to warn you that anything you say will be taken down and may be used in evidence. Now, did you wish to make any statement?”

“I did it,” Clarron said hopelessly. “Everything. Just as he said.”

Teal nodded to the constable with the notebook.

“And the one before?”

“Yes. I knocked the radio into her bath.”

“What about the first one — the one who was drowned?”

“I killed her too,” Clarron said with his head in his hands. “I upset the boat and held her under.”

Suddenly the girl thrust herself between them.

“You idiots, all of you!” she cried insubordinately. “We might still save this one. We should be getting a doctor—”

“Don’t waste his time,” said the Saint. “I tried to break it all to Mrs Clarron, but it was tough going. As you can imagine. She got quite hysterical at one stage, but luckily there was quite a hysterical play on television at the same time, so nobody outside would have noticed much. But at least she lost all her appetite. I took advantage of that to arrange the table as if she’d been eating, and put most of the stew, the wine, and the coffee in other containers, which you can take for analysis if you need it. I got her half-convinced, but I knew she was in no condition to play dead when Reggie came in, even if I could have talked her into trying, and she had to do that if he was to book himself all the way to the gallows. So when I heard his key in the lock, I just gave her a little judo tap on the neck.” Simon smiled apologetically. “She should wake up any minute now, and all she’ll need is an aspirin and a good dinner.”

As if on cue, a dull moan reached them from the floor above, and Adrienne ran up the stairs.

It was somewhat later when Teal, Simon, and the girl wound up back at the cottage next door.

The uniformed men had taken Mr Clarron away, and a nurse had arrived to take charge of his wife. Mrs Clarron had refused to let a doctor be called in with sedatives, but she was quietly and methodically getting drunk, which would eventually have a similar effect. The Saint couldn’t blame her.

“That’s the one ugly thing left,” he said. “She’s still got to live with the results of Reginald’s first attempt. And I’ll always wonder if it wouldn’t have been kinder to let her eat that stew.”

“Perhaps you won’t have to,” Adrienne said. “She told me that the specialists had been talking about another operation that might fix her up.

The Saint’s eyes lightened.

“Then maybe it’s not so indecent to celebrate after all. And some celebration certainly seems called for. I suppose you did bring some beer when you thought I’d be waiting when you came back, and Claud and I should drink a parting toast.”

“You’re forgetting,” Teal said stodgily, “I don’t drink. Fat men didn’t ought to drink.”

Adrienne made him a cup of tea.

“The one thing that puzzles me,” Simon said, “is why you took so long to show up at Clarron’s, Claud, after I disappeared from here. Or, put it another way, how you were on his doorstep at the ideal moment.”

“After you left Heathrow,” Teal said reluctantly, “I came down to the Maidenhead police station and waited for Miss Halberd to get in touch with me. When she reported that Clarron had gone to London, I had a man watch the railway station to let us know when he came back. Then she phoned and told me you’d left, and I hoped you meant it. I came over and joined her here. We were informed as soon as Clarron got off the train, and we started watching his house. I was afraid he might try something desperate soon, after the scare you’d given him, and I could only hope we’d be able to prevent it. As soon as he started screaming, we rushed over.”

“But you hadn’t spotted that Mrs Jafferty was purely fictitious.”

“Not yet.”

“And if I hadn’t been there, you still wouldn’t have been in time to save Mrs Clarron’s life.”

“We might have been able to get her to a hospital in time.”

“You wouldn’t. But even if you had, you’d only have been looking for Mrs Jafferty. And even if you’d discovered that she was a phony, you could only have convicted Reginald of attempted murder. It took the fright I threw into him to make him confess everything.”

“That’s probably true,” Teal said grudgingly. “But it still doesn’t excuse your interfering and taking the law into your own hands.” His voice rose a little. “And one of these days—”

“Now you’re forgetting,” Simon reminded him gently. “There aren’t going to be any more of these days for you. You’re retiring, and you’ll only read about me in the papers.”

Chief Inspector Teal swallowed.

He looked ahead into a vague Elysian vista in which there were no problems, no apprehensions — and no taunting privateer with unquenchable devilment in his eyes and an impudent forefinger pointing like a rapier at his stomach. It would be very restful, and there would be something lacking.

“That’s right,” said Mr Teal. “I was forgetting.”

He hauled himself sluggishly to his feet, and put out his hand, and for almost the first time in all those years Simon saw something very like a smile on his round pink apoplectic face.

“I’m rather glad it ends up this way,” Teal said. He glanced self-consciously around him. “But I’ve still got work to do tonight. And I think Miss Halberd has some apologizing to do which she might rather do in private. The rent’s paid on this cottage to the end of the month,” he added inconsequently. “So if you’ll excuse me—”