They Found Him Dead (29 page)

"If he didn't, Aunt, who did?" demanded Lady Harte.

"I'm sure I don't know. It seems to me people will do anything nowadays. I've no patience with it," replied Emily.

By the time the party rose from the luncheon table a great many methods of protecting Jim from his unknown enemy had been put forward and heartily condemned.

The news that a plain-clothes man had arrived, and was apparently keeping the house under observation, afforded gratification to no one but Timothy, who at once dashed out to make his acquaintance.

Emily, bristling, said that they had had enough of policemen prying about the place and upsetting the servants; Patricia agreed with Lady Harte that to send one man only to guard Jim's precious person was frivolous; and Rosemary complained that the sight of a detective "brought it all back to her." Jim, discovering that his bodyguard, a shy but very earnest young man, proposed to accompany him if he left the premises, not unnaturally decided to cancel an expedition to a ruined abbey which Miss Allison had expressed a desire to visit. When Patricia had seen Mrs. Kane comfortably bestowed on the couch in her own sitting room for her customary siesta, she went downstairs again to join Jim in the garden, the edge of her pleasure in this programme being considerably dulled by Rosemary's saying thoughtfully that it must be rather horrid to reflect that behind any bush or tree a murderer might be lurking.

When Mr. Harte exercised a simple sense of humour by stalking his stepbrother down to the lake and suddenly commanding him in gruff accents and from behind a rhododendron to "stick 'em up!" Miss Allison came to the conclusion that two chairs on the terrace would be more agreeable to her shattered nerves than wandering about all too well-wooded grounds.

Mr. Harte, roundly cursed by Jim, was quite unabashed.

"Made you jump, didn't I?" he said ghoulishly. "As a matter of fact, I'm guarding you."

"Thanks," said Jim. "Are you going to guard me the whole afternoon?"

"Well, while you're in the garden I shall. Sergeant Trotter—that's the new detective, you know—said I ought to."

"I'll have a word with Sergeant Trotter," said Jim grimly. "Come on, Pat, let's go and sit sedately on the terrace."

Mr. Harte accompanied them back to the house, chatting with his usual insouciance. Halfway across the south lawn he stopped, his blue eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Say, buddy!" he pronounced. "I got a swell idea! Only I must have some dough!" He planted himself in front of Jim and raised an eager, beseeching countenance. "Have you got any money, Jim? Because if so, could I have some, please? There's something I frightfully want to go and buy in Portlaw, and if you gave me about ten bob—or perhaps a pound, if you can spare it—I could whizz in on my bike."

"Look here, is it something devilish?" asked Jim suspiciously.

"No, no, honestly it isn't! As a matter of fact, it's actually for you, and I know you'll be pleased!"

"Oh God!" said Jim, with deep misgiving.

Mr. Harte danced with impatience. "Oh, Jim, don't be a cad!"

"Well, if you swear it isn't anything hellish, and if it really means that you'll remove yourself till teatime," began Jim, taking out his notecase.

"Oh, good of you!" exclaimed Mr. Harte, waiting to hear no more. He pocketed a pound note with fervid thanks and was about to hurry away when a thought occurred to him, and he paused. "I say, can I keep the change?" he asked anxiously.

Jim nodded.

"Say, you're a swell guy!" declared Mr. Harte in a burst of gratitude and vanished.

Jim and Patricia ensconced themselves on the terrace.

They enjoyed peace for nearly an hour, at the end of which time a stately procession issued out of the house. Emily had cut her siesta short and elected to join the rest of the party. This entailed the summoning of the footman and the chauffeur to carry her downstairs; the butler to bear her favourite chair out on to the terrace; and Ogle to bring up the rear with her rug, her shawl, and her spectacles.

By the time Emily had been settled in her chair, a table placed at her elbow, her ebony cane propped up within her reach, and her sunshade fetched for her, the party had been further augmented by the arrival of Oscar Roberts. He was ushered on to the terrace by Pritchard and after bowing to Mrs. Kane and Patricia went up to Jim and shook hands. "I met Timothy in the town," he said. "What he had to say made me feel I'd like to come right on up to see you. Are you still telling me I'm crazy?"

"I don't think I ever said that, did I?" replied Jim, pulling forward a chair, "Sit down, won't you? Cigarette?"

Roberts took one from the case held out to him and lit it. "Might I know just what happened to your car this morning, Kane? I can't say I made much of my friend Timothy's story. It sounded mighty lurid."

"Oh, it wasn't lurid at all!" replied Jim easily. "Just something put out of action in the steering. No damage done."

Roberts smiled. "Quit stalling, Kane!"

"Well, we're not saying too much about it, you know. A nut had worked loose and came off. We might have crashed badly, but we didn't."

"We?"

"Miss Allison was with me."

"Say, Miss Allison, you'd better stop riding around with this guy: it seems to be kind of dangerous!" Roberts said humorously. "If you take my advice, young man, you'll leave that car of yours in the garage till this case is cleared up."

"As she's a bit bent I shall probably have to," replied Jim. "Not that I think anyone would pull the same trick twice."

"What was the trick?"

"The nut holding one of the ball joints on the track rod was loosened. The split pin securing it was missing when we inspected the car."

Roberts interposed. "Sorry, Kane, but that doesn't mean a thing to me. What kind of a steering system is this?"

"Quite a usual one. Certain makes of car have it. I can soon show you." He produced a pencil and an envelope from his pocket and drew a rough diagram, elucidating it as he did so.

Roberts watched with knit brows, putting one or two questions as the drawing progressed. He took the envelope from Jim presently and studied it. "Guess you'd have to be familiar with the car to be able to pull this one," he remarked. "Now, this nut, you say, came off; if you knew the car, it wouldn't be a difficult job to pull that pin out and loosen the nut?"

"No. Dead easy, given a spanner and a pair of pliers."

"Could it have been done in a few minutes, do you suppose?"

"I should think so."

Roberts gave back the envelope. "Well, that certainly is interesting," he said. "Looks like you're up against something, Kane. Can't help blaming myself for this one. I ought to have thought of your car standing in that yard just crying out to be tampered with."

Emily, who had been listening to him with ill-concealed impatience, said crossly: "I don't know why, I'm sure. You're not a detective, are you?"

Roberts turned courteously towards her. "Mrs. Kane, when a man sees murder rife under his very nose, he's apt to take notice of it."

"Scotland Yard has the matter in hand," said Emily in her stiffest voice.

Roberts smiled a little. "Sure they have. I expect when it comes to solving problems they're swell. Maybe they're not quite so clever at preventing crime."

At this moment Sir Adrian came out on to the terrace with Superintendent Hannasyde. Jim said at once: "My God, sir, has it come to this?"

"No, not yet," replied Sir Adrian calmly. "I am still a free man. The superintendent wishes to have a word with Mrs. Kane."

Emily felt no particular animosity towards Superintendent Hannasyde, who had at their first meeting handled her with consummate tact; but her inevitable reaction towards anyone requiring anything of her was of hostility. She looked him up and down and said: "I don't know what he thinks I can tell him."

Patricia got up. "I expect you'd like to speak to Mrs. Kane alone, Superintendent."

"Sit down!" said Emily sharply. "I've no secrets. If I knew anything I should have told it in the first place. Well, what do you want?"

Hannasyde took the chair Jim had thrust forward.

"I take it that you have been informed of the accident to your great-nephew's car, Mrs. Kane?"

"Yes, I have," said Emily; "and I'll thank you to see that nothing of the sort happens again! I don't know what the police think they're for."

"I'll do my best," promised Hannasyde. "I think you may be able to help me." He glanced fleetingly round the assembled company. "Do you wish me to speak frankly, or would you like to see me alone?"

"No, I shouldn't," replied Emily.

"Then I'm going to be very frank indeed," said Hannasyde. "I have seen the foreman of Lamb's Garage, and I have seen Mr. Kane's car. I am satisfied that the accident did not occur naturally. It remains for me to discover who tampered with the car. Sir Adrian will, I hope, forgive me if I say that his presence in the garage this morning makes it necessary for me to consider the possibility of his being the guilty person."

"Stuff and nonsense!" interrupted Emily with a snort.

"A thought occurs to me," said Sir Adrian, disposing himself in a deck chair. "Had I a motive for murdering Clement Kane?"

Hannasyde's eyes twinkled appreciatively. "I have not yet discovered it, sir."

"Murder begets murder," said Jim. "You didn't murder Clement, Adrian. His murder just put the idea of murdering me into your head."

Sir Adrian wrinkled his brow. "I never take my ideas at second hand," he complained.

"Waiving you for the moment, sir," interposed Hannasyde, "I am apparently left with only two suspects."

"Joe Mansell wouldn't murder anyone, if that's what you mean," said Emily. "I don't know anything about his son, and I don't want to."

"We'll waive him too," said Hannasyde. "There is one other person who would benefit by Mr. Kane's death, and that is his heir."

Emily stared at him. "Maud? Rubbish, she's in Australia!"

"Are you sure of that, Mrs. Kane?"

"I had a letter from her, posted in Sydney. I don't know what more you want."

"May I see that letter?"

For a moment it seemed as though Emily would refuse; then she turned towards Miss Allison and commanded her to fetch it from the davenport in her sitting room.

Patricia got up and went into the house. Hannasyde said: "When did you last see your great-niece, Mrs. Kane?"

"When she was a child." replied Emily. "I don't know when. I never took any stock in that Australian lot."

"Then it is safe to assume that you would not recognise her today?"

"I've no idea. She was a plain child. I remember they dressed her very unsuitably. Just like them! If they had a penny to bless themselves with it went on grand clothes and trips to England. They never got any encouragement from me."

"Do you know anything of the man she married, Mrs. Kane?"

"Never saw him in my life. She used to write cadging letters to my son. Of course, we guessed that was at her husband's instigation. He was no good at all."

"You never even saw a photograph of him?"

"I never saw one, and if I had, I shouldn't have been interested. If you want to know anything about him, you'd better ask Mr. Roberts. He comes from Australia."

Oscar Roberts had been listening with a slight frown in his cold, intelligent eyes. He said slowly: "I'm an Australian sure enough; but I don't know Sydney very well. What is the man's name, Mrs. Kane?"

"Leighton," she replied. "That's what my great-niece signs herself, anyway."

"Leighton?" His frown grew. "The only Leighton I ever knew I met in a bar at Melbourne, and, as far as I know, he wasn't a married man."

From the recesses of her memory Emily unexpectedly brought a new fact to light. "That's nothing. He left her years ago, I remember her mother—she was an empty little ninny, always whining about something or other—wrote to my son about it. I don't know what she thought he could do about it. Of course, he did nothing at all. Maud was fool enough to take the man back again, but it didn't last. It wouldn't surprise me to hear of him posing as a bachelor in Melbourne, or wherever you say you met him. I've no doubt if he had sixpence in his pocket he wouldn't trouble his head over Maud."

"They are not divorced?" Hannasyde asked.

"If they are I never heard of it. Maud had no pride at all. Just like her mother."

Hannasyde turned to Oscar Roberts. "How well were you acquainted with the man you met in Melbourne?"

"Not so well. If he was the Leighton you want he certainly wasn't on the up-and-up when I knew him. He was picking up a living doing odd jobs for any firm that would use him. Chicken feed! The trouble with him was drink. Are you figuring he might be at the bottom of this racket, Superintendent?"

"He or his wife. Possibly both."

"That's ingenious," Roberts admitted. "That certainly is ingenious; but I can't get around to it fitting the hobo I knew."

"Would you know that man again if you saw him?"

"Sure I'd know him, unless he was wearing a wig, or something. Say, you've got me thinking, Superintendent. But there's a couple of snags I can see."