Death in the Andamans (34 page)

‘I propose, presently, to walk out of this house. And if I should hear any cries or sounds of pursuit I shall shoot the first person I see after that; and probably the next four as well, as this admirable weapon still contains five bullets. Therefore, unless either of you prefers to have the blood of several innocent persons on your head, you will watch me go without screaming or calling for help, and you will also refrain from raising an alarm for at least half an hour afterwards. Have I made myself quite clear?'

Valerie and Copper nodded wordlessly.

‘In that case,' said Mr Stock, ‘I will wait until Dutt's arrival, which will ensure the removal of most of the household from the hall to the turret room and give me a clear field. It will also allow me a few more moments in your company, so if those two somewhat thoughtless swains of yours should join us, I am sure you would not be so foolish as to arouse their suspicions. May I add that I am an excellent shot?'

He returned the weapon to the pocket of his dressing-gown, and to Copper's bewilderment, re-seated himself and lit a cigarette.

‘Valerie, my dear,' he said smoothly. ‘I am very much afraid that I shall have to trouble you. I do not really think I should leave the house in these garments, so perhaps you would be so good as to go to my room and fetch me the pair of stout walking shoes you will find there? Also the flannel trousers and the tweed coat, both of which are hanging over the back of a chair, and my shirt, hat and raincoat …

‘You will please do this without being seen. A simple matter if you keep in the shadow and select a time when someone is not actually passing through the ballroom. I will ask you to be as quick as possible, and warn you, in case you have forgotten, that if I get suspicious at the length of time you are away, or if you return in company with anyone else, the consequences will be most unpleasant for your young friend here.'

‘I won't go!' said Valerie in a dry whisper.

‘Go on, Val,' said Copper evenly. ‘It's all right. He won't shoot unless he is cornered, and if you do as he asks you'll at least lessen the chances of his shooting Charles or Nick.'

‘Your friend has grasped the situation admirably,' approved Leonard Stock. ‘I advise you to do the same.'

Valerie stood up uncertainly. ‘All right,' she said shakily. ‘I'll do it.' She turned away and, fear lending wings to her feet, ran through the doorway into the drawing-room and vanished into the shadows.

Copper sat tensed and waiting, and with every second that dragged by she saw Leonard Stock's face become more strained and his eyes more wary. Watching him, she wondered how she had ever thought his face was characterless or weak, for in the yellow lamp-light it looked neither. And all at once she knew why. That curious flickering light that seemed to burn behind the pale eyes was suddenly revealed for what it was: a consuming desire for revenge. And with that knowledge cold panic clutched once more at her hammering heart. Weak he had been, possibly characterless. But now he was neither, for hatred had given him both strength and character.

She wondered how long the spark of revolt had been smouldering in his heart. And what had suddenly caused it to flare up and consume him?… Had it been the storm? What long years of disappointment and lost opportunity, of snubs from social and official superiors and incessant nagging and bullying by an overbearing wife, lay behind the sudden metamorphosis of a small, diffident man into the merciless and cold-blooded little killer who had already murdered three men, and was perfectly capable of putting a shot through her head should Valerie fail to keep to the letter of his instructions?

His sudden pedantic turn of speech. Was that too a sign of hate? What he himself had described as ‘dramatization'? He was acting — even the nonchalance of his present pose was acted — but his pale eyes remained tense and watchful, and as the moments ticked by and Valerie did not return, Copper saw his hand move stealthily towards his pocket, and in spite of the close atmosphere of the verandah she was suddenly ice cold … What did it feel like — being shot? A cold bead of sweat ran down her forehead and smeared her cheek: and then Valerie was back again, light-footed and breathing in quick gasps, her arms laden with clothing.

‘Ah!'
said Leonard Stock on a short sigh. ‘I was beginning to think that you had been stupid. Sit down beside your friend, please.'

He slipped out of the dressing-gown and began to clothe himself; drawing on the garments over his pyjamas, swiftly but without undue haste. And as he dressed he talked in a low, precise voice that made his words seem like so many drops of ice water.

‘Yes,' he said, ‘it is strange how in spite of exercising the greatest caution one can yet make such unpardonable slips. Throughout this affair I have made no mistake which might have been avoided. I think I put the case clearly in that typescript that I pinned to poor Shilto's pillow. The discovery of Harcourt's body, owing to the unexpected production of a coffin that proved to be a few inches too small, was a quite unavoidable accident. But the plan for the elimination of John Shilto appeared to contain no flaws. I thought it all out very carefully from every angle and down to the last detail, though the broad outline was of course childishly simple …

‘I had only to walk from my room to his, and after pinning the letter to his pillow (he was fortunately drunk enough to be sleeping soundly) shoot him, allow myself a margin of roughly fifteen to twenty seconds to complete the scene, and then step out of the window. This admirably patterned dressing-gown of my wife's served as an excellent camouflage to anyone looking up from below, but the mist proved even more valuable.

‘The moment those two young men in the next room had run out into the passage nothing was more simple than to enter their room from the balcony, and walking through it, pick my time and join those who were crowding into the turret room. But I forgot that damnable stain, and I followed it up by the almost worse slip of forgetting about the mosquito net. I congratulate you on spotting that, my dear. You did, didn't you?'

‘Yes,' said Copper steadily. ‘Valerie and Charles and I were the only other people in the room when Nick pulled out the mosquito net to look at Mr Shilto. No one else could have known that it wasn't like that when we found him. Unless it wasn't suicide, but murder. And then only the murderer could have known.'

‘Ah, yes. It was regrettably careless of me. A bad slip.'

‘There was another one,' said Copper conversationally, her voice unstrained but her eyes intent. ‘Not exactly a slip, but a useful clue.'

‘You surprise me,' murmured Mr Stock, stooping to lace his shoes — the revolver beside his foot and within easy reach of his swiftly moving fingers. ‘I had imagined that outside those two glaring examples I was blameless.'

Copper said: ‘On the day of the Mount Harriet picnic I saw you carry a packing-case full of bottles from the car to the far side of the lawn, single-handed; and I remember being surprised. Then later, when we decided that you couldn't be the murderer because you hadn't the strength, I had forgotten about it and could only remember that something had happened that afternoon that had struck me as a little peculiar. I couldn't even connect it with anyone in particular. But when you made the slip about the mosquito net, and I realized that you must have been in John Shilto's room before we were, I thought: “It's impossible, because whoever shot him must have killed the other two, and he isn't strong enough.” And then quite suddenly I remembered the box of bottles, and so I asked you to move the lamp, to make sure. It takes two of the servants to lift that lamp, yet you lifted it easily.'

Mr Stock straightened up and laughed his little bloodless laugh: ‘Clever!' he approved. ‘Very clever of you. Yes, I once wanted to be a gymnastic instructor at a private school; before I came out to India. But Ruby thought athletics of that description were undignified, and so I gave it up. But I used to practise in secret. I've never missed doing a few press-ups every morning.'

His thin lips stretched to show his teeth, and the sheer concentrated malignancy of that smile chilled Copper's blood and made her shrink back involuntarily. But Leonard Stock was not thinking of her …
‘Ruby!'
he said softly, and his lean fingers tightened convulsively about the weapon he held. ‘
Dear
Ruby! I'd put a shot through her head before I go, except that she'll hate this worse than death! I think she suspects even now. For the first time in her life she's frightened — and of me!'

It was plain that he was no longer addressing Copper, but speaking his thoughts aloud: ‘Seventeen years I've put up with her. Seventeen years from my life
____
! And for a good many of them I've been planning how I'd kill her. It's been my one recreation — planning the details of her murder. But this was better. Who would have supposed that that little rat Ferrers would stumble on a pearl bed? If we hadn't stopped at his bungalow that day I might never have found out. It must have been in that tidal lagoon behind the house. He'd left the shells to rot in the sun — the fool!'

Once again, and too late, Copper remembered something. A look she had seen on Leonard's face when the Shilto cousins had met at Mount Harriet. Yes, he had known even then; and had realized in that moment that John Shilto also knew…!

But he was still speaking, and now his voice held a note of injury and bewilderment: ‘I didn't mean to kill him. It wasn't my fault. It was the storm. I'd felt queer all day — keyed up and on edge — and when it broke, something seemed to snap. He was beside me, and suddenly it came to me that if I killed him I could get the pearls. Freedom and money. Freedom from these damned Islands — freedom from Ruby! With the pearls, I could walk out — disappear …

‘So I killed him. Harcourt was a mistake — his mistake, not mine. And as it seemed that John Shilto had also found out about the pearls, I realized that he would have to go too. Besides, it was useful to have those two murders pinned on someone else. And then for the whole thing to fall to pieces over a smear of red wood-stain and a slip of the tongue!'

Leonard Stock jerked back his head and laughed: so suddenly and so shrilly that involuntarily Copper started to her feet. In a flash the barrel of the revolver was levelled at her breast, held in a perfectly steady hand. ‘No tricks, my dear,' urged Leonard Stock.

He reached behind him, and picking up his raincoat struggled into it; changing the revolver from his right hand to his left and back again in the process. There were voices from the direction of the hall, and he said: ‘Ah, that will be Dutt arriving. Yes, he is going to the turret room, so I shall be able to leave without attracting undue attention. May I remind you both not to go rushing to your friends with this story until I have had ample time to get clear of the island? Say half an hour?'

‘Are you mad?' interrupted Valerie breathless: ‘You're marooned on this island like the rest of us!'

‘Oh, dear me, no.' Leonard Stock laughed with genuine amusement. ‘You forget that I always keep my own boat in the old swimming-bath. And after the discovery of Harcourt's body I took the precaution of provisioning her — just in case of accidents. This is no weather to be setting out in a sailing boat, I will admit. But she has a good engine, and luckily the sea appears to have fallen considerably, so I shouldn't do too badly. Half an hour should see me well off the premises. So remember, no immediate hue and cry if you wish to avoid further bloodshed.'

He wagged the heavy revolver at them with a grim joviality, and grinned maliciously. ‘Well —
au revoir,
my dears. I trust we shall not meet again, but one can never
____
'

He stopped suddenly. There were voices in the ballroom, but this time it was Charles. Charles and Nick.

Copper swayed sickeningly and caught at the arm of the sofa to steady herself. She saw Leonard Stock slip the heavy revolver into the pocket of his raincoat, but his hand still kept a grip on it and she knew that his unshaking finger was still upon the trigger.

He did not again remind them that at least one life, if not all their lives, depended upon their behaviour during the next few moments. Perhaps he knew that they needed no reminder. He began to speak in his usual rather diffident voice, and they saw, with a fresh stab of fear, that his face had once more become weak and characterless and rather foolish, as though he had drawn a mask over that other face whose owner had murdered three men.

Valerie gave a hysterical laugh and said: ‘And I once said that story about Jekyll and Hyde was far-fetched! One lives and learns.'

‘What's that about Jekyll and Hyde?' inquired Charles. And then he and Nick were standing beside them: real and solid and alive in an unreal world.

Nick looked sharply from Copper to Valerie and said: ‘You two look pretty done up. A stiff brandy all round would about suit the case I think.'

‘Suits me all right,' said Charles. ‘God! What a night! Hello, Leonard, old man, what are you all togged up for? If you're thinking of fetching Dutt, you're too late. He arrived a few minutes ago and they're all poring over the body again. So we beat it.'

‘Er — as a matter of fact,' fluttered Mr Stock, ‘Ruby is a bit upset, and she says she cannot go to sleep again without some tablets which she sometimes has to take, which are unfortunately down at our house. I said that I would slip down and fetch them — it won't take me a moment.'

‘Jeepers, these wives!' said Charles. ‘Who wouldn't be a bachelor?'

Copper attempted a laugh. ‘That's a nice thing to say in front of your future wife, Charles. Are we going to get those drinks or aren't we?'

‘Of course. Come on.' They moved off down the verandah, Leonard Stock walking a little behind them, and paused at the top of the stairs. ‘I think I should appreciate that drink more when I come back,' said Mr Stock.