They Found Him Dead (31 page)

The over-genial note in his voice did not escape Hannasyde. He replied calmly: "You can tell me, Mr. Mansell, what your car was doing outside Cliff House at 3.30 P.M. on August tenth."

Paul Mansell lost some of his colour. He countered with a swift question: "Who says my car was outside Cliff House that afternoon?"

"I have evidence that it was drawn up at the side of the road by the tradesmen's entrance, Mr. Mansell. Do you care to explain this?"

Paul lit a cigarette and inhaled a breath of smoke before answering. "I should very much like to know where you got this tale from."

"I am sorry. I am not in a position to disclose the source of this piece of evidence," said Hannasyde, unmoved.

"Well, really, I——" Paul stopped, plainly undecided what to say. "I don't know that I feel inclined to answer this most extraordinary question, without knowing——" He met the superintendent's cold eyes and broke off again.

"Do you deny that your car was parked outside the grounds of Cliff House that afternoon, Mr. Mansell?"

Paul looked at him for a moment under his lashes.

"Deny it? No, I didn't say I denied it. But it has nothing to do with this case, I can assure you. As a matter of fact, the
raison d'être
is so simple——"

"I should be obliged to you if you would tell me what the
raison d'être
was," interrupted Hannasyde.

"Oh, certainly! I've no objection," said Paul. "As I told you before, I was due at a tennis party at Brotherton Manor that Saturday. I stayed talking to Mrs. Trent longer than I meant to. I had to stop at Cliff House to pick up my racket, that's all."

"Why?"

"Why? Because I'd left it there, of course. If you don't believe me, you can go and ask my sister, Mrs. Pemble, or her husband. They were both there."

"Both where?"

"At Cliff House, the day before Silas Kane's death. There was a small tennis party—well, hardly a party: just ourselves, and Patricia Allison. My people haven't got a tennis court, and Silas Kane let us use the ones at his place whenever we wanted to. On that particular occasion it came on to rain just before tea, and we all went into the summerhouse—sort of glorified sun-parlour arrangement; I dare say you've seen it—hoping that it would clear up. Played silly games, you know. Up Jenkins, and Rummy, and that sort of thing, to pass the time. The rain kept on, and we all went up to the house for tea. I happened to leave my racket in the summerhouse: forgot about it, you know. The weather didn't clear up, and in the end we—my sister, and Pemble and myself—drove home without returning to the summerhouse. I remembered my racket when I got back to Portlaw, but I knew where I'd left it, and that it would be perfectly safe and dry. I knew I'd put it in its press, too, which was all that mattered. Naturally I didn't go chasing back to Cliff House for it. Then all this business of Silas Kane dying, and then Clement, came, and what with one thing and another I never thought about the racket again till I had to play tennis at Brotherton Manor on the tenth. Of course, I remembered at once where the thing was, and I simply picked it up on my way. That's all. Not really interesting, is it?"

"Do you mean, Mr. Mansell, that you just walked through the grounds to the summerhouse without anyone's knowledge, abstracted your racket, and came away again?"

"That's it. What do you suppose I'd do? Drive up to the front door and send the butler to get the darned thing?"

"I should suppose that a more usual form of procedure would have been to have called first at the house to ask permission to get your racket," replied Hannasyde.

Paul brushed that aside with one of his airy gestures. "Quite unnecessary, I assure you. I know the Kanes so well—I mean, I've always had the run of the place, pretty well. I don't say that, if I'd had twenty minutes to waste, I mightn't have done the polite as you suggest, but the point is, I was late already. You must be fairly familiar with Cliff House by this time. Do you know where the tennis courts are situated? They're a day's march from the house—dam' silly place to have put them, I always thought—but that's beside the point. The point being that, if you nip in the tradesmen's entrance, and turn sharp to your left down the first path you come to, you reach the summerhouse in about half the time it takes you to start from the house. Anything more I can tell you?"

"Yes," said Hannasyde. "Why did you conceal this perfectly innocent errand?"

"Oh, come, Superintendent, I don't know that I concealed it!"

"Pardon me; but when I asked you for a precise account of your movements on the afternoon of August tenth, you not only made no mention of this episode, but you must obviously have misstated the time of your leaving Mrs. Trent's house after lunch. No matter how near to the side entrance of Cliff House the tennis courts may be, you could not, if you left Mrs. Trent at 3.25, have stopped at Cliff House, collected your property, and still have contrived to arrive at Brotherton Manor at 3.45."

Paul smoked for a moment or two in uneasy silence. Then he said: "Well, if you must know, I got the wind up a bit. Silly of me, of course; but when I got the news of Clement's having been shot, and realised I must have been actually in the grounds when it happened, I saw that my perfectly ordinary behaviour might strike an outsider as being rather odd. Mind you, if I'd heard or seen anything I'd have come forward at once: that goes without saying. But I knew my being there had absolutely no bearing on the case, so I lay low about it. I don't say it was altogether wise of me, but——"

"It was the very reverse of wise, Mr. Mansell. You must see for yourself that it places you in an extremely invidious position, to say the least of it. Can you bring anyone besides your sister forward to corroborate your statement that you left your racket in the summerhouse on the day of this tennis party?"

"Oh Lord, yes!" said Paul with an assumption of nonchalance. "Mrs. Trent knew that I had to stop at Cliff House for my racket, because I told her so."

"You might ask yourself, with advantage, Mr. Mansell, whether, in view of Mrs. Trent's instant corroboration of a part of your original deposition which you now admit to have been false, her further testimony is likely to carry much weight with me," said Hannasyde unpleasantly.

"Well, I don't know whom you expect me to refer you to," said Paul. "Miss Allison might remember the incident; but it's quite possible she never knew anything about it. I didn't make a song and dance about having left the dam' racket in the summerhouse. She probably didn't notice that I didn't take it away with me. I dare say it sounds fishy to you, but I can't help that. And unless there's anything more you want to ask me——"

"There is," said Hannasyde. "Will you tell me, please, where you were between eleven o'clock and twelve this morning?"

"Look here, what on earth's it got to do with you where I was?" demanded Paul, his temper fraying a little.

"Have you any objection to telling me where you were, Mr. Mansell?"

"I don't know that I've any objection, but——"

"Then let me advise you to answer my question."

Paul said with a flash of anger: "Damn it, I'm not bound to answer you!"

"Certainly not," said Hannasyde. "Am I to put it on record that you decline to answer me?"

"Good Lord, what a fuss to make—I don't mind answering you, but I dislike being interrogated without any apparent rhyme or reason!"

"Very well, Mr. Mansell; then I will tell you that an event has occurred which renders it necessary for me to check up on the movements during that hour of anyone connected with this case. Where were you?"

"I don't know. Here, I expect. Where should I be?"

"I must request you to be more precise, Mr. Mansell. You are surely able to recall what your movements were this morning?"

"I don't sit and watch the clock! I've got something better to do. I did what I usually do—attended to my correspondence first, dictated some letters to my secretary——"

Hannasyde glanced round. "Does your secretary work in this room?"

"Of course not. She works in there," replied Paul, nodding towards a door communicating with an adjoining apartment.

"When did she leave this room this morning to type your letters?"

"Oh, round about ten-thirty! I don't know for certain."

"Did she return at any time between eleven and twelve?"

"No, I don't think so. In fact, I'm sure she didn't."

"What did you do?"

"Got on with my work, of course."

"In this room?"

"Mostly. I went down to the packing room once, and into the ledger department. That's all."

Hannasyde got up and walked over to the window. It overlooked the yard below, and beyond the cover of the lean-to shelter, built at right angles to the house, he could just see the tail of Paul Mansell's car protruding. The body of the car was hidden by the low roof above it.

Paul Mansell watched him with a shade of uneasiness in his face. "What's the matter? What are you getting at?" he asked.

Hannasyde turned his head. "I see that you look out on to the yard," he said. "Did you see Mr. James Kane park his car there this morning?"

"No, I can't say I did. I don't hang out of the window to gape at every car I hear in the yard. Look here, what's this all about?"

Hannasyde came back to the desk. "Upon his way back to Cliff House, after his interview with your father, Mr. Kane met with an accident," he said.

Paul Mansell half started to his feet, "Good God, you don't mean he's dead?"

"No," replied Hannasyde. "Mr. Kane escaped injury. But investigation has disclosed the fact that the accident was caused by the loosening of one of the nuts holding the left ball joint of the track rod of his car in position."

Paul stared at him, his brows knit. "The inference being that I monkeyed about with his blasted car?"

"Not necessarily," said Hannasyde in his quiet way.

"I should dam' well hope not!" Paul said angrily. "What reason have I got to try and kill Jim Kane? Or his cousin Clement, for that matter! I think it's about the limit that you policemen should have the neck to suspect me! Do you suppose I'd be fool enough to murder a couple of men—oh, three, isn't it?—three men, just to put through a potty business deal?"

"There is no need for such heat, Mr. Mansell."

"Well, I think there is! It's about time the air was cleared a bit. You needn't imagine I haven't realised what you've been getting at ever since you came down here! What's more, I know who put you up to it! It was that stagy fool Roberts, trying to do the giddy detective all over the shop!"

The door opened, and Joseph Mansell came into the room, looking worried and a little frightened. "What's all this? What's all this?" he said. "Paul, my boy, really! I could hear your voice in my office! No need to shout—no need to shout, you know! Good afternoon, Superintendent. Now, what is the trouble?"

"Oh, nothing!" Paul said, sinking back in his chair. "Superintendent Hannasyde is just accusing me of trying to murder Jim Kane, that's all!"

"Murder Jim? Good God, what's this, Superintendent?"

"Your son is labouring under a misapprehension, Mr. Mansell. I have accused him of nothing. All I have asked him to do is to account for his movements this morning, while Mr. Kane was in your office."

"Well, well, there's no harm in that: you have to do your duty. But what's this about Jim Kane?"

Hannasyde explained briefly. Joe looked very much shocked, said feebly that he felt sure there must be a mistake, and added that surely the superintendent could not seriously suspect his son of having had anything to do with the accident.

"That's where you're wrong," said Paul mockingly. "He thinks I killed Clement, and probably Silas too. Now I'm rounding off the job with Jim. And what I say is that such a cracked-brained idea would never have come into his head if that meddlesome know-all Roberts hadn't put it there!"

"Paul, my boy, Paul! Gently! I'm sure the superintendent doesn't think any such thing, or Roberts either. You're letting all this worry get on your nerves!"

"Well, and if I am, is it surprising?" retorted Paul. "I've had detectives nosing around till I'm sick of the sight of them, and, on top of that, I've had Roberts dogging my footsteps and coming as near to saying bang out that I murdered Clement as he dare!" He swung round in his chair to face Hannasyde and added venomously: "If you want to chase a wild goose, try him for a change! I've had enough of it! He had just as much motive as I had for killing Clement!"

"Paul!" said his father warningly. "Now, that's quite enough! There's no need to talk in that wild fashion. You know perfectly well that Roberts couldn't possibly have killed poor Clement, even if he had had a motive, which really, my boy, he hadn't. Must keep calm, you know! The superintendent's only doing his duty, after all."

Paul seemed to recollect himself. He flushed and muttered that he was sorry, but that the case was getting on his nerves a bit. Hannasyde, realising that nothing further could be elicited from him, took his leave and left the room in company with Joe Mansell, who went with him to the head of the staircase, trying all the way to excuse his son's outburst.

From Kane and Mansell's offices Hannasyde proceeded to the Cedars, Joe Mansell's comfortable Victorian house situated in a wide avenue leading off the Esplanade. He found the household undergoing the doubtful pleasure of having the children down after tea.