Unexpected Guest (6 page)

Just then, Sergeant Cadwallader ushered in Jan, who rushed up to the inspector. ‘Do you want me?' he cried excitedly. ‘Have you caught him yet? Will there be blood on his clothes?'

‘Now, Jan,' Miss Bennett cautioned him, ‘you must behave yourself. Just answer any questions the gentleman asks you.'

Jan turned happily to Miss Bennett, and then back to the inspector. ‘Oh, yes, I will,' he promised. ‘But can't I ask any questions?'

‘Of course you can ask questions,' the inspector assured him kindly.

Miss Bennett sat on the sofa. ‘I'll wait while you're talking to him,' she said.

The inspector got up quickly, went to the door and opened it invitingly. ‘No thank you, Miss Bennett,' he said firmly. ‘We shan't need you. And didn't you
say you're rather busy this morning?'

‘I'd rather stay,' she insisted.

‘I'm sorry.' The inspector's voice was sharp. ‘We always like to talk to people one at a time.'

Miss Bennett looked at the inspector and then at Sergeant Cadwallader. Realizing that she was defeated, she gave a snort of annoyance and swept out of the room, the inspector closing the door after her. The sergeant moved to the alcove, preparing to take more notes, while Inspector Thomas sat on the sofa. ‘I don't suppose,' he said amiably to Jan, ‘that you've ever been in close contact with a murder before, have you?'

‘No, no, I haven't,' Jan replied eagerly. ‘It's very exciting, isn't it?' He knelt on the footstool. ‘Have you got any clues–fingerprints or bloodstains or anything?'

‘You seem very interested in blood,' the inspector observed with a friendly smile.

‘Oh, I am,' Jan replied, quietly and seriously. ‘I like blood. It's a beautiful colour, isn't it? That nice clear red.' He too sat down on the sofa, laughing nervously. ‘Richard shot things, you know, and then they used to bleed. It's really very funny, isn't it? I mean it's funny that Richard, who was always shooting things, should have been shot himself. Don't you think that's funny?'

The inspector's voice was quiet, his inflection rather
dry, as he replied, ‘I suppose it has its humorous side.' He paused. ‘Are you very upset that your brother–your half-brother, I mean–is dead?'

‘Upset?' Jan sounded surprised. ‘That Richard is dead? No, why should I be?'

‘Well, I thought perhaps you were–very fond of him,' the inspector suggested.

‘Fond of him!' exclaimed Jan in what sounded like genuine astonishment. ‘Fond of Richard? Oh, no, nobody could be
fond
of Richard.'

‘I suppose his wife was fond of him, though,' the inspector urged.

A look of surprise passed across Jan's face. ‘Laura?' he exclaimed. ‘No, I don't think so. She was always on
my
side.'

‘On your side?' the inspector asked. ‘What does that mean, exactly?'

Jan suddenly looked scared. ‘Yes. Yes,' he almost shouted, hurriedly. ‘When Richard wanted to have me sent away.'

‘Sent away?' the inspector prompted him gently.

‘To one of those places,' the youngster explained. ‘You know, where they send you, and you're locked up, and you can't get out. He said Laura would come and see me, perhaps, sometimes.' Jan shook a little, then rose, backed away from the inspector, and looked across at Sergeant Cadwallader. ‘I wouldn't like to be
locked up,' he continued, his voice now tremulous. ‘I'd hate to be locked up.'

He stood at the french windows, looking out onto the terrace. ‘I like things open, always,' he called out to them. ‘I like my window open, and my door, so that I can be sure I can get out.' He turned back into the room. ‘But nobody can lock me up
now
, can they?'

‘No, lad,' the inspector assured him. ‘I shouldn't think so.'

‘Not now that Richard's dead,' Jan added. Momentarily, he sounded almost smug.

The inspector got up and moved round the sofa. ‘So Richard wanted you locked up?' he asked.

‘Laura says he only said it to tease me,' Jan told him. ‘She said that was all it was, and she said it was all right, and that as long as she was here she'd make quite sure that I would never be locked up.' He went to perch on one arm of the armchair. ‘I love Laura,' he continued, speaking with a nervous excitement. ‘I love Laura a terrible lot. We have wonderful times together, you know. We look for butterflies and birds' eggs, and we play games together. Bezique. Do you know that game? It's a clever one. And Beggar-my-neighbour. Oh, it's great fun doing things with Laura.'

The inspector went across to lean on the other arm of the chair. His voice had a kindly tone to it as he
asked, ‘I don't suppose you remember anything about this accident that happened when you were living in Norfolk, do you? When a little boy got run over?'

‘Oh, yes, I remember that,' Jan replied quite cheerfully. ‘Richard went to the inquest.'

‘Yes, that's right. What else do you remember?' the inspector encouraged him.

‘We had salmon for lunch that day,' Jan said immediately. ‘Richard and Warby came back together. Warby was a bit flustered, but Richard was laughing.'

‘Warby?' the inspector queried. ‘Is that Nurse Warburton?'

‘Yes, Warby. I didn't like her much. But Richard was so pleased with her that day that he kept saying, “Jolly good show, Warby.” '

The door suddenly opened, and Laura Warwick appeared. Sergeant Cadwallader went across to her, and Jan called out, ‘Hello, Laura.'

‘Am I interrupting?' Laura asked the inspector.

‘No, of course not, Mrs Warwick,' he replied. ‘Do sit down, won't you?'

Laura came further into the room, and the sergeant shut the door behind her. ‘Is–is Jan–?' Laura began. She paused.

‘I'm just asking him,' the inspector explained, ‘if he remembers anything about that accident to the boy in Norfolk. The MacGregor boy.'

Laura sat at the end of the sofa. ‘Do you remember, Jan?' she asked him.

‘Of course I remember,' the lad replied, eagerly. ‘I remember everything.' He turned to the inspector. ‘I've told you, haven't I?' he asked.

The inspector did not reply to him directly. Instead, he moved slowly to the sofa and, addressing Laura Warwick, asked, ‘What do you know about the accident, Mrs Warwick? Was it discussed at luncheon that day, when your husband came back from the inquest?'

‘I don't remember,' Laura replied immediately.

Jan rose quickly and moved towards her. ‘Oh yes, you do, Laura, surely,' he reminded her. ‘Don't you remember Richard saying that one brat more or less in the world didn't make any difference?'

Laura rose. ‘Please–' she implored the inspector.

‘It's quite all right, Mrs Warwick,' Inspector Thomas assured her gently. ‘It's important, you know, that we get at the truth of that accident. After all, presumably it's the motive for what happened here last night.'

‘Oh yes,' she sighed. ‘I know. I know.'

‘According to your mother-in-law,' the inspector continued, ‘your husband had been drinking that day.'

‘I expect he had,' Laura admitted. ‘It–it wouldn't surprise me.'

The inspector moved to sit at the end of the sofa.
‘Did you actually see or meet this man, MacGregor?' he asked her.

‘No,' said Laura. ‘No, I didn't go to the inquest.'

‘He seems to have felt very revengeful,' the inspector commented.

Laura gave a sad smile. ‘It must have affected his brain, I think,' she agreed.

Jan, who had gradually been getting very excited, came up to them. ‘If I had an enemy,' he exclaimed aggressively, ‘that's what I'd do. I'd wait a long time, and then I'd come creeping along in the dark with my gun. Then–' He shot at the armchair with an imaginary gun. ‘Bang, bang, bang.'

‘Be quiet, Jan,' Laura ordered him, sharply.

Jan suddenly looked upset. ‘Are you angry with me, Laura?' he asked her, childishly.

‘No, darling,' Laura reassured him, ‘I'm not angry. But try not to get too excited.'

‘I'm not excited,' Jan insisted.

Crossing the front hall, Miss Bennett paused to admit Starkwedder and a police constable who seemed to have arrived on the doorstep together.

‘Good morning, Miss Bennett,' Starkwedder greeted her. ‘I'm here to see Inspector Thomas.'

Miss Bennett nodded. ‘Good morning–oh, good morning, Constable. They're in the study, both of them–I don't know what's going on.'

‘Good morning, madam,' the police constable replied. ‘I've brought these for the inspector. Perhaps Sergeant Cadwallader could take them.'

‘What's this?' Laura asked, over the rumble of voices outside.

The inspector rose and moved towards the door. ‘It sounds as if Mr Starkwedder is back.'

As Starkwedder entered the room, Sergeant Cadwallader went out into the hall to deal with the
constable. Meanwhile, young Jan sank into the armchair, and observed the proceedings eagerly.

‘Look here,' exclaimed Starkwedder as he came into the room. ‘I can't spend all day kicking my heels at the police station. I've given you my fingerprints, and then I insisted that they bring me along here. I've got things to do. I've got two appointments with a house agent today.' He suddenly noticed Laura. ‘Oh–good morning, Mrs Warwick,' he greeted her. ‘I'm terribly sorry about what has happened.'

‘Good morning,' Laura replied, distantly.

The inspector went across to the table by the armchair. ‘Last night, Mr Starkwedder,' he asked, ‘did you by any chance lay your hand on this table, and subsequently push the window open?'

Starkwedder joined him at the table. ‘I don't know,' he admitted. ‘I could have done. Is it important? I can't remember.'

Sergeant Cadwallader came back into the room, carrying a file. After shutting the door behind him, he walked across to the inspector. ‘Here are Mr Starkwedder's prints, sir,' he reported. ‘The constable brought them. And the ballistics report.'

‘Ah, let's see,' said the inspector. ‘The bullet that killed Richard Warwick definitely came from this gun. As for the fingerprints, well, we'll soon see.' He went to the chair by the desk, sat, and began to study the
documents, while the sergeant moved into the alcove.

After a pause, Jan, who had been staring intently at Starkwedder, asked him, ‘You've just come back from Abadan, haven't you? What's Abadan like?'

‘It's hot,' was the only response he got from Starkwedder, who then turned to Laura. ‘How are you today, Mrs Warwick?' he asked. ‘Are you feeling better?'

‘Oh yes, thank you,' Laura replied. ‘I've got over the shock now.'

‘Good,' said Starkwedder.

The inspector had risen, and now approached Starkwedder on the sofa. ‘Your prints,' he announced, ‘are on the window, decanter, glass and cigarette lighter. The prints on the table are not yours. They're a completely unidentified set of prints.' He looked around the room. ‘That settles it, then,' he continued. ‘Since there were no visitors here–' he paused and looked at Laura–‘last night–?'

‘No,' Laura assured him.

‘Then they must be MacGregor's,' continued the inspector.

‘MacGregor's?' asked Starkwedder, looking at Laura.

‘You sound surprised,' said the inspector.

‘Yes–I am, rather,' Starkwedder admitted. ‘I mean, I should have expected him to have worn gloves.'

The inspector nodded. ‘You're right,' he agreed. ‘He handled the revolver with gloves.'

‘Was there any quarrel?' Starkwedder asked, addressing his question to Laura Warwick. ‘Or was nothing heard but the shot?'

It was with an effort that Laura replied, ‘I–we–Benny and I, that is–we just heard the shot. But then, we wouldn't have heard anything from upstairs.'

Sergeant Cadwallader had been gazing out at the garden through the small window in the alcove. Now, seeing someone approaching across the lawn, he moved to one side of the french windows. In through the windows there entered a handsome man in his mid-thirties, above medium height, with fair hair, blue eyes and a somewhat military aspect. He paused at the entrance, looking very worried. Jan, the first of the others in the room to notice him, squealed excitedly, ‘Julian! Julian!'

The newcomer looked at Jan and then turned to Laura Warwick. ‘Laura!' he exclaimed. ‘I've just heard. I'm–I'm most terribly sorry.'

‘Good morning, Major Farrar,' Inspector Thomas greeted him.

Julian Farrar turned to the inspector. ‘This is an extraordinary business.' he said. ‘Poor Richard.'

‘He was lying here in his wheelchair,' Jan told Farrar excitedly. ‘He was all crumpled up. And there was a piece of paper on his chest. Do you know what it said? It said “Paid in full”.'

‘Yes. There, there, Jan,' Julian Farrar murmured, patting the boy's shoulder.

‘It
is
exciting, isn't it?' Jan continued, looking eagerly at him.

Farrar moved past him. ‘Yes. Yes, of course it's exciting,' he assured Jan, looking enquiringly towards Starkwedder as he spoke.

The inspector introduced the two men to each other. ‘This is Mr Starkwedder–Major Farrar, who may be our next Member of Parliament. He's contesting the by-election.'

Starkwedder and Julian Farrar shook hands, politely murmuring, ‘How do you do?' The inspector moved away, beckoning to the sergeant who joined him. They conferred, as Starkwedder explained to Major Farrar, ‘I'd run my car into a ditch, and I was coming up to the house to see if I could telephone and get some help. A man dashed out of the house, almost knocking me over.'

‘But which way did this man go?' Farrar asked.

‘No idea,' Starkwedder replied. ‘He vanished into the mist like a conjuring trick.' He turned away, while Jan, kneeling in the armchair and looking expectantly at Farrar, said, ‘You told Richard someone would shoot him one day, didn't you, Julian?'

There was a pause. Everyone in the room looked at Julian Farrar.

Farrar thought for a moment. Then, ‘Did I? I don't remember,' he said brusquely.

‘Oh, yes, you did,' Jan insisted. ‘At dinner one night. You know, you and Richard were having a sort of argument, and you said, “One of these days, Richard, somebody'll put a bullet through your head.” '

‘A remarkable prophecy,' the inspector commented.

Julian Farrar moved to sit on one end of the footstool. ‘Oh well,' he said, ‘Richard and his guns were pretty fair nuisance value, you know. People didn't like it. Why, there was that fellow–you remember, Laura? Your gardener, Griffiths. You know–the one Richard sacked. Griffiths certainly said to me–and on more than one occasion–“One of these days, look you, I shall come with my gun and I shall shoot Mr Warwick.”'

‘Oh, Griffiths wouldn't do a thing like that,' Laura exclaimed quickly.

Farrar looked contrite. ‘No, no, of course not,' he admitted. ‘I–I didn't mean that. I mean that it was the sort of thing that–er–people said about Richard.'

To cover his embarrassment, he took out his cigarette-case and extracted a cigarette.

The inspector sat in the desk chair, looking thoughtful. Starkwedder stood in a corner near the alcove, close to Jan who gazed at him with interest.

‘I wish I'd come over here last night,' Julian Farrar announced, addressing no one in particular. ‘I meant to.'

‘But that awful fog,' Laura said quietly. ‘You couldn't come out in that.'

‘No,' Farrar replied. ‘I had my committee members over to dine with me. When they found the fog coming on, they went home rather early. I thought then of coming along to see you, but I decided against it.' Searching in his pockets, he asked, ‘Has anyone got a match? I seem to have mislaid my lighter.'

He looked around, and suddenly noticed the lighter on the table where Laura had left it the night before. Rising, he went across to pick it up, observed by Starkwedder. ‘Oh, here it is,' said Farrar. ‘Couldn't imagine where I'd left it.'

‘Julian–' Laura began.

‘Yes?' Farrar offered her a cigarette, and she took one. ‘I'm most awfully sorry about all this, Laura,' he said. ‘If there's anything I can do–' His voice trailed off indecisively.

‘Yes. Yes, I know,' Laura replied, as Farrar lit their cigarettes.

Jan suddenly spoke, addressing Starkwedder. ‘Can you shoot, Mr Starkwedder?' he asked. ‘I can, you know. Richard used to let me try, sometimes. Of course, I wasn't as good as he was.'

‘Did he, indeed?' said Starkwedder, turning to Jan. ‘What sort of gun did he let you use?'

As Jan engaged Starkwedder's attention, Laura took the opportunity of speaking quickly to Julian Farrar.

‘Julian, I must talk to you. I must,' she murmured softly.

Farrar's voice was equally low. ‘Careful,' he warned her.

‘It was a .22,' Jan was telling Starkwedder. ‘I'm quite good at shooting, aren't I, Julian?' He went across to Julian Farrar. ‘Do you remember the time you took me to the fair? I knocked two of the bottles down, didn't I?'

‘You did indeed, my lad,' Farrar assured him. ‘You've got a good eye, that's what counts. Good eye for a cricket ball, too. That was quite a sensational game, that match we had last summer,' he added.

Jan smiled at him happily, and then sat on the footstool, looking across at the inspector who was now examining documents on the desk. There was a pause. Then Starkwedder, as he took out a cigarette, asked Laura, ‘Do you mind if I smoke?'

‘Of course not,' replied Laura.

Starkwedder turned to Julian Farrar. ‘May I borrow your lighter?'

‘Of course,' said Farrar. ‘Here it is.'

‘Ah, a nice lighter, this,' Starkwedder commented, lighting his cigarette.

Laura made a sudden movement, and then stopped herself. ‘Yes,' Farrar said carelessly. ‘It works better than most.'

‘Rather–distinctive,' Starkwedder observed. He gave a quick glance at Laura, and then returned the lighter to Julian Farrar with a murmured word of thanks.

Jan left his footstool, and stood behind the inspector's chair. ‘Richard has lots of guns,' he confided. ‘Air-guns, too. And he's got one gun that he used to use in Africa to shoot elephants. Would you like to see them? They're in Richard's bedroom through there.' He pointed the way.

‘All right,' said the inspector, rising. ‘You show them to us.' He smiled at Jan, adding genially, ‘You know, you're being very helpful to us. Helping us quite a lot. We ought to take you into the police force.'

Putting a hand on the boy's shoulder, he steered him towards the door, which the sergeant opened for them. ‘We don't need to keep you, Mr Starkwedder,' the inspector called from the door. ‘You can go about your business now. Just keep in touch with us, that's all.'

‘All right,' replied Starkwedder, as Jan, the inspector and the sergeant left the room, the sergeant closing the door behind them.