Appleby's Other Story (7 page)

Reluctantly, Pride looked at Hermes – a much-weathered statue on a pedestal immediately below.

‘On this occasion,' Appleby went on, ‘the chip may have been taken out of his skull, wouldn't you say?'

‘Absolute nonsense.'

‘I'm afraid so.' Appleby closed the window. ‘But the general point is valid. People have committed suicide and gone to strange and ingenious lengths to obscure the fact. People have committed suicide and
other
people have promptly undertaken the same obscuration on their behalf. Or there was the episode I think of as
The Case of X, Y, and Z
. It sounds like one of Holmes', but I assure you it was one of my own. X killed himself, and when Y found the body he so arranged matters that Z was in danger of being convicted of murder. And all three may be described as having moved in good society.' Appleby turned back into the room and sat down. ‘So one can't too closely scrutinize one's facts. Shall we begin?'

 

‘I think that should mean with the discovery of the body.' Henderson had produced a notebook. ‘It took place in this room at approximately twenty past eleven last night, and the immediate circumstances were as follows.
First
: there was a small house party, only two members of which, a Mr Raffaello and a Miss Kentwell, were at all unfamiliar with the place.
Second
: Mr Tytherton excused himself to his guests round about ten o'clock and for some time the party appears to have drifted about a little restlessly here and there.
Third
: later on, the secretary, Ramsden, came in to join them, and noticed that Raffaello, who had been drinking, was making a bit of a nuisance of himself towards a woman called Mrs Graves. I get the impression that keeping an eye on embarrassments of this sort, and taking appropriate tactful action, is more or less part of Ramsden's job.'

‘Odd state of affairs,' the Chief Constable said. ‘Deplorable, eh?'

‘So Ramsden suggested that he should show Raffaello and Miss Kentwell – the comparative strangers, as I've said – one of the sights of the place. One of its nocturnal sights, you might say. You climb to the lantern on the roof, and on any clear moonlight night there's a magnificent view.

‘Now,
Fourth
: this plan only partly fulfilled itself. Raffaello, who was more or less breathing down Mrs Graves' cleavage – Mr Ramsden's words these, sir – turned down the invitation out of hand, with the result that Ramsden was left stuck with Miss Kentwell, who was all in favour of the expedition. So he had to lead her away to no particular purpose. But he is a very gentlemanlike young man, and he seems to have done the thing in style, politely showing off this and that as they made their way to the top of the house.
Fifth
: the party as left downstairs broke up almost at once. Nobody has been willing to tell me much about this, but I think it possible that Mrs Graves – a very smart woman, she is, very fashionable indeed, sir – had to go off to bed to end Raffaello's nonsense, and that then everybody else did the same. The feeling I get is that there was something uncommonly uncomfortable, or edgy, about the whole evening.'

‘Dubious crowd,' Colonel Pride said. ‘It becomes clearer and clearer. Eh, John? Oughtn't to have proposed to land you in it.'

‘Sixth
: this dispersal was, from our point of view, neatly and awkwardly complete. There was nobody without his or her own room; and off they all went into privacy. And they remained like that until the murder – perhaps one had better say the fatality – was discovered.'

‘All,' Appleby said, ‘except Ramsden and Miss Kentwell, innocently seeking, hand in hand, certain glimpses of the moon.'

‘Just so, sir. And, as you will realize in a moment, they are the only people with an alibi. You might say they hand each other alibis.'

‘Deuced fishy,' Pride said.

‘Well, sir, it can be viewed that way. Put very formally, Mr Tytherton's death may have been brought about by any single person in this house, with the exception of these two. These two would have to be conspirators.'

‘And what's more likely. Eh, John?' Colonel Pride might have been described as hot on the scent.

‘They sound an improbable couple. But it's a possibility, I agree.' Appleby paused. ‘But, Inspector, we've lost sight of the movements of the dead man. Not that dead men do move.'

‘No, sir.' Henderson had received this witticism with civil respect.
‘Seventh
: I have something fairly specific on the movements of the two people we've been discussing. On their way to the top of the house they came into this room – partly, it seems, to tell Mr Tytherton what they were about and suggest he go up to the roof with them.'

‘And partly, would you say, to show Miss Kentwell this Goya? But, come to think of it, I doubt whether she much approved her host's activities as a collector. She had other plans for him.'

‘That's rather what Mr Ramsden hints at.' Henderson was impressed. ‘Anyway, they came in here, where Ramsden supposed his employer would be working. The lights were on, but there was no sign of him. So they waited for a minute or two, and came away again. Ramsden says he supposed Tytherton had gone to the lavatory. He says he had a notion that Miss Kentwell supposed the same thing, and was embarrassed by it. Anyway, off they went again, and climbed to the leads.'

‘I suppose there really was a moon?'

‘The moon isn't one of the doubtful factors, sir. It was a beautiful night.'

 

 

‘Then I don't doubt the view was worth inspecting.' Appleby had got to his feet again and returned to the window. He felt restless and knew why: this was the stage in an affair at which he wanted to get past the reports of competent subordinates and enjoy a run for his own money. But the immediate prospect didn't conduce to bustle. A peacock had appeared and perched on the head of Hermes just below; it half spread out its tail as Appleby watched; then seemed to think better of the effort, and simply reposed in the sun. What was visible of the park was at present given over to a few head of cattle of a congruously superior sort. The tower of what must be Mr Voysey's church stood off behind a belt of trees – hovering, one might say, to proffer its services if required, but without any disrespectful importunity. There was a little ripple on a corner of the lake. It was hard to extract from those appearances any effect of an imperative call to action. Appleby now spoke briskly, all the same.

‘Well, those two people went up to the roof. For how long?'

‘Long enough to smoke a cigarette.' Henderson had consulted his notebook. ‘Ramsden's words.'

‘Any proof that they
did
go there? Were they noticed by a servant – anything of that kind?'

‘No. They simply corroborate each other's story.'

‘What about the cigarettes?'

‘Quite so, sir.' Henderson was prepared for this question. ‘I found two butts on the leads myself – quite fresh, and of the kind Ramsden appears to carry around with him. They weren't beside what's called the lantern – which is no more than a rather grand skylight – but over in the north-west corner of the roof of the main building. And that corresponds with what they remember of their movements. The lantern is on an octagonal platform some feet higher than the rest of the roof. They climbed to that first, and then came down and circled the whole perimeter of the place, more or less close to the enclosing balustrade. Ramsden, still doing the host's right-hand man, pointed out various landmarks. Then they descended by a second staircase, and more or less wandered back through the house and to this room.'

‘And then came the crunch?'

‘Just that. I get a feeling that Miss Kentwell was losing no opportunity of making herself agreeable to Mr Tytherton, and was proposing to say good night, if he was back in his workroom. That, and polite remarks about her little tour, no doubt. Anyway, for the second time within about twenty minutes, young Mr Ramsden ushered her in. And there' – with an unexpected effect of drama, Inspector Henderson's finger shot out and pointed at a writing-table – ‘the dead man lay sprawled.'

‘Shocking thing,' Colonel Pride said. ‘A lady, I mean, being confronted with such a sight. Sounds a tiresome woman, I admit. Kind of professional sponger on the rich in the interest of large charities. Works on commission, likely enough. Odd, eh? Sorry for her, all the same. Unless, of course, these two really are the villains of the piece. Mustn't lose sight of the notion. But it's hard to see what interest they could have in common.'

‘Quite so, sir.' Henderson had received these remarks respectfully. ‘And I suppose it's possible that enquiry will reveal some concealed association. At the moment, however, I confess to seeing several more promising avenues.'

‘Then let us press on with them, my dear chap.'

‘Certainly, sir. But first I had better tell Sir John about the period immediately succeeding the discovery. This young Mr Ramsden seems to have behaved very efficiently – and the first efficient thing he did was to look at his watch. It was exactly eleven-twenty.'

‘I see.' Appleby frowned suddenly. ‘Inspector, let me get this right. The
first thing
? Do you mean that Ramsden followed Miss Kentwell into this room, saw that his employer had been shot dead, or nearly dead – and
instantly looked at his watch
?'

‘Just that. He made a point of being precise about it to me.'

‘By way of airing or showing off his efficiency?'

‘No, sir. He realizes the oddity of it, as a matter of fact. He says he has an instinct to be precise about time, and that it must have made him do this automatic thing. Incidentally, there can have been no rational occasion to suppose that Tytherton was only, as you put it, nearly dead. The state of his head told only one story. Nevertheless, the order in which Ramsden at once proceeded was undoubtedly the correct one. He picked up the telephone on the writing-table and called the Tythertons' doctor, who lives no more than a couple of miles away. Then he put through a 999 call to the police. And then he poured Miss Kentwell some brandy.'

‘Very proper attention,' Colonel Pride said approvingly. ‘Knocked out, was she?'

‘It's my impression she didn't fall into any panic, but that she was bewildered and in a slight state of shock. Ramsden then went over to that other telephone – the one beside the fireplace. It's a house telephone, and he called up the butler on it. Name of Catmull, you will remember, sir. He told Catmull what had happened, and ordered him to get his wife out of bed if necessary, and come to the workroom at once. They were both still up, it seems, and came straight away. Ramsden told Mrs Catmull to stay with Miss Kentwell, and Catmull to be ready to admit the doctor and the police. After that, Ramsden made his way to Mrs Tytherton's room, and broke the news to her. The doctor was here by twenty-five to twelve, and a couple of my men arrived a few minutes later. I myself turned up just before midnight' – Henderson smiled faintly – ‘with a safety-razor in my pocket.'

‘Wise precaution.' Colonel Pride nodded approvingly. ‘Always encourage a smart turn-out, eh?'

‘Undoubtedly.' Appleby, to whom the question had been addressed, turned to Henderson. ‘When you put the razor in one pocket,' he asked, ‘I don't suppose you balanced it with a revolver in the other?'

‘Certainly I didn't.' Henderson's tone was almost reproving. ‘I had no notion of running into a gang of armed robbers, or anything of that kind.'

‘It wasn't all that unlikely, Inspector – not with affairs like that around.' Appleby pointed to the Goya. ‘But I was really thinking of something else: a harmless, although perhaps mildly alarming experiment. Just a pot shot at nothing in particular, taken in the quiet of midnight or thereabout in this room. Wouldn't it make a bit of a rumpus? I'm surprised that, so far, I've heard nothing about the sound of a shot.'

‘Well, sir, there is something on the record there, and I'll be coming to it in a moment.' Henderson was unperturbed. ‘It's more perplexing than helpful, to my mind. However, there are three preliminary points to make. The first is that a great house like this is a very solid affair. A pistol-shot won't necessarily sound like the crack of doom in it, as it would in a small villa. Then, again, there's the character and calibre of the weapon used. We have no report on that as yet, but at the point-blank range involved the ugly job could have been done with something pretty well like a toy – the sort of miniature weapon ladies whip out of neat little handbags in movies. Not much bite, but even less bark. And the third point is this: almost up to the moment of dispersing and going to bed, the party downstairs seems to have been amusing itself every now and then with intermittent bursts of loud music – pop music, it seems – from an affair like a domestic juke-box.'

‘Good heavens!' The Chief Constable made an expressive gesture. ‘A thoroughly rackety crowd. Ashamed, my dear John, that I thought of introducing you to them.'

‘On the contrary, Tommy, I can hardly wait to make their acquaintance. But, Inspector, you say there is some record about hearing a possible shot?'

‘Yes, sir. From a Mr Archibald Tytherton. I don't think I've had occasion to mention him.'

‘But I have,' Colonel Pride said. ‘You remember, John? Nephew of Tytherton's who comes and goes, and seems not on record as doing much else. What was he doing last night, Henderson? Coming and going, I shouldn't be surprised.' And Pride chuckled, much pleased at thus refreshing the company with wit.

‘Well, sir, he certainly went. Rather early, it seems. Even before his uncle went off to write letters, or whatever it was supposed to be. He went to bed. He's quite frank about it.'