John Rhode - Mystery at Olympia

‘Let me see now. There was Miss Betty, of course. She was staying here all the week. But you can hardly count her as a visitor, since she is here as much as she is away. Then Mr Bryant came to lunch on Sunday, yesterday, that is, and stayed till after dinner. Mrs Bryant was to have come too, but she had a cold and stayed at home. The only other visitor we had last week was Mrs Sulgrave. She drove over on Friday and lunched with Miss Betty.’

‘Who is Mrs Sulgrave?’

‘She’s the wife of Mr George Sulgrave, who is the son of old Mr Sulgrave, who was a great friend of Mr Pershore’s. Mr and Mrs Sulgrave live in a house called High Elms, in Byfleet, quite close. They often drive over. Mr Sulgrave has something to do with the motor business, but I don’t know exactly what it is.’

‘Had Mr Pershore any other intimate friends?’

‘Only Mr Odin Hardisen, who lives at Wells in Somersetshire. They used to see a lot of one another. Mr Hardisen used to come and stay here, and Mr Pershore would go and spend a few days with him at Wells. But I have an idea that they had fallen out about something.’

‘What gives you that idea, Mrs Markle? Did Mr Pershore say anything to you about it?’

‘No. It was Miss Betty who asked me if I knew anything. She likes Mr Hardisen, and she told me that she asked her uncle one day why he never came here now. He told her not to talk to him about the damned scoundrel Hardisen. Those were the very words Mr Pershore used, so Miss Betty told me.’

‘And you’ve no idea why he called Mr Hardisen a damned scoundrel?’

‘None at all. Mr Pershore has never so much as mentioned him to me.’

Hanslet made mental notes of all that Mrs Markle told him. Although they seemed to be straying a long way from the suspected olives, this information might come in useful later. And now he ventured to put a question which had been all the while at the back of his mind. ‘It’s rather a delicate subject, Mrs Markle,’ he said, ‘but do you know anything about the contents of Mr Pershore’s will? Who he has left his money to, I mean?’

‘Only what Miss Betty has told me. Mr Pershore never mentioned the matter to me himself.’

‘And what did Miss Rissington tell you?’

‘That her uncle had left her most of his money. Anything that might be over was to go to Mr Bryant.’

‘Has Miss Rissington been informed of her uncle’s death?’

‘Not yet. You see, I don’t know where she is, and Mr Bryant doesn’t either. She left here this morning with Mr Pershore, and went up to London with him. She told me she wouldn’t be back for a few days, but she didn’t tell me where she was going.’

Having secured from Mrs Markle Bryant’s address. Hanslet brought his conversation with her to an end. There was nothing more for him to do at Firlands for the present. He returned to London, taking the two bottles of olives with him. On his arrival at Scotland Yard he handed these over for analysis, asking for a report as soon as possible. Then he set to work to make notes of the information he had gathered.

Assuming the olives to have been poisoned, as everything seemed to indicate, there was no doubt that the attempt had been aimed against Mr Pershore. It could not have been foreseen that Jessie’s curiosity would suddenly induce her to experiment upon them. But the attempt had apparently failed, since Doctor Formby was of the opinion that a sudden collapse, such as had been experienced by Mr Pershore, was not likely to have been caused by arsenical poisoning. On the other hand, it seemed probable that Mr Pershore had eaten five olives out of the same bottle.

The search for the poisoner was limited to the domestic staff at Firlands, and recent visitors to the house. Hanslet shared Doctor Formby’s conviction that Mrs Markle was innocent. If Jessie had been the culprit, she would have hardly have gone to the length of eating so many herself, even in the attempt to avert suspicion.

It seemed far more likely that one of Mr Pershore’s friends or relations was the guilty party. Hanslet proceeded to make a list of these, with appropriate comments. Philip Bryant, first. As Mr Pershore’s nephew he was frequently a visitor to the house. His movements in it would be unquestioned. He had spent Sunday afternoon there. His behaviour had been curious. On being told of a case of poisoning, he had evinced an emotion which, while it might have been due to natural horror, might also have been due to a guilty conscience. And yet, on being told that the poisoning was due to arsenic, his emotion had changed to one of bewilderment. Finally, why had he left the house so unaccountably? His behaviour distinctly suggested that he knew more about his uncle’s death than he had chosen to reveal. Yet, if Mrs Markle’s information about Mr Pershore’s will was correct, it would seem that Bryant had very little to gain by his uncle’s death.

Next came Miss Rissington. She had been staying at Firlands, and her opportunity for tampering with the olives had been even better than her cousin’s. She appeared to be the principal beneficiary under her uncle’s will. It was she who had originally suggested olives to him.

Micah Pershore, that shadowy half-brother, might be ruled out, at least for the present.

Then Mr Pershore’s various friends and acquaintances. The Chantleys, to begin with. Hanslet felt pretty certain that Mrs Markle knew more about the relations between them and Mr Pershore than she had cared to say. But, since it appeared that they had neither been to the house for some considerable time, their opportunity was obscure. Even more obscure was any motive on their part for an attempt to murder Mr Pershore.

Odin Hardisen, the ‘damned scoundrel’ who lived at Wells. He had at one time been a friend of Mr Pershore’s, but, quite obviously, they had quarrelled. But quarrels between old friends did not usually lead to attempted murder. Besides, in this case, opportunity appeared to be entirely lacking.

The Sulgraves. Mrs Sulgrave had been at Firlands as recently as the previous Friday. She might therefore have had an opportunity of tampering with the olives. George Sulgrave was connected with the motor business. This might account for Mr Pershore’s visit to the Motor Show. He might have gone there on Sulgrave’s suggestion, for instance. But here, again, any possible motive seemed entirely lacking.

The superintendent, having completed his notes, read them through very carefully. As he folded them up and put them in his pocket, he shook his head. ‘It looks to me as though that girl, Miss Rissington, had had a hand in this,’ he muttered. ‘I shall have to get on her tracks, I’m afraid. But, before I do that, I’ll see what evidence crops up at the inquest.’

Hanslet had not been long in his office next morning when he received a telephone call. He picked up the instrument. ‘Who is it? Mr Merefield? Yes, I know him. Put him through.’

The connection was established, and he heard the well-known voice of Harold Merefield, Dr Priestley’s secretary. ‘Hallo, is that you, Mr Hanslet? Good-morning. I say, do you know anything about an inquest on a chap named Nahum Pershore, who died at the Motor Show yesterday?’

‘As it happens, I know quite a lot about it,’ Hanslet replied. ‘Why?’

‘I’ll tell you. Oldland was here last night. It seems that he picked the fellow up, or something. He was telling Dr Priestley all about it. There doesn’t seem to me to be anything very special in his yarn, but you know what my old man is. He jumped at it at once. And he wants to know when and where the inquest is to be held, and whether you can get him a seat at it.’

‘You can tell him that I’ll keep a seat for him, all right. Two-thirty this afternoon, at the Kensington Coroner’s Court. Is that all?’