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Authors: Peter; Peter Lovesey Lovesey

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‘It begins to sound more like an accident than a deliberate act,’ said Strathmore.

‘No, sir. We can’t get away from the fact that somebody put the handkerchief in a position where it was certain to kill Brand when he touched it. What we can say with certainty is that the action wasn’t planned from the beginning of the evening.’

‘In legal parlance, it was not done with malice aforethought,’ said Strathmore.

‘I didn’t say that, sir.’

‘Well, it was not premeditated.’

‘I prefer to say that it was improvised,’ said Cribb. ‘The murderer made use of circumstances that did not occur by his or her design. That, you see, tells us a lot about the nature of the crime. It was the subject of a quick decision, a decision that was possible only in that interval after the professor’s interruption. Only then did the circumstances make a murder conceivable at all.’

‘Something must have happened,’ said Alice. ‘Mr Brand must have said or done something that drove one of us to a sudden act of murder. What could that have been?’

‘I’ll tell you, miss. It was the sight of Peter Brand sitting in the chair with the handkerchief stretched between the handles. It showed that Brand was no more than a clever sharp, you see.’

‘But I don’t see, Sergeant. None of us saw what you describe. We had no idea that he was planning such a deception until you demonstrated it this evening.’

‘I must correct you, miss. One of you did see it. When Brand called out after the interruption, somebody went to the curtain and looked through.’

‘Strathmore!’ said Probert. ‘But he claimed he couldn’t see a damned thing.’

‘Take my word for it, sir. There was enough light when Mr Strathmore pulled aside the curtain to see a white handkerchief stretched between those chair-arms. That was why he was so particular in the reconstruction this evening about being the one to look through. He had to find out for himself whether I knew what he had seen last Saturday.’ Cribb turned to Strathmore. ‘You don’t deny it, do you, sir?’

Strathmore avoided the question. ‘That’s a slender thread to support a charge of murder, Sergeant.’

‘There’s more than that, sir. There’s the question of your sudden change of attitude towards Brand. Before the murder you were quite ready to believe that your twelve years of searching for a genuine materialising medium were at an end. You were talking of your paper on the subject being read by scientists the world over—and who can blame you? How could
you
have known that three other people were assisting Brand in producing his phenomena? It was inconceivable that people like the Proberts and Miss Crush could be persuaded to collaborate with an impostor. No, every indication suggested that you had achieved the ultimate purpose of your Society—to prove the existence of life after death in scientifically controlled conditions. In short, sir, you were duped, and the first moment you realised it was when you looked through that curtain, before Brand had the wit to get the handkerchief back into his pocket. During those minutes of confusion when everyone was trying to account for what had happened, you removed the handkerchief from Brand’s pocket.’

‘It was partially on view, I remember,’ contributed Jowett.

‘Anyway, it was no difficult matter to gain possession of it while you were re-connecting wires,’ said Cribb. ‘Once the current was turned off, you twisted the end round the terminal on the transformer and left Brand to his fate.’

Strathmore had listened with extraordinary calm. ‘If he had been a genuine medium,’ he said, ‘he would not have needed to touch the handkerchief. My action put him to the test. Is that really murder?’

‘That’s a question a court of law might argue over, sir, but it’s my duty to charge you with murder, I’m sure of that.’

Strathmore produced a handkerchief and polished his monocle methodically. ‘I should like to hear the rest of your case, Sergeant. What made you certain that I was responsible for Brand’s death? It seems to me you might equally have charged Dr Probert.’

‘Go to the devil!’ said Probert.

‘I probably shall, but it would interest me to know why you’re not going in my place.’

‘I’ll tell you,’ said Cribb, whose respect for Strathmore was growing. A man who could face a charge of murder with dignity was not wholly to be despised. ‘If Dr Probert had killed Brand it would have been for a different reason, a reason he knew about on Friday evening, the night before the seance. He had
time
to plan a murder. He wouldn’t have left it to chance. He could have built a fault into the transformer which would have killed Brand and been accepted as an accident. He had no need to use a handkerchief.’

‘He pocketed it afterwards,’ said Strathmore.

‘He did—and that, more than anything, convinced me that he hadn’t put it there in the first place. It was the action of a man in a panic, a man who had just seen it there and realised its purpose. He put it in his pocket thinking to protect his daughter. That must have made things difficult for you, Mr Strathmore, because you intended the handkerchief to be found, didn’t you?’

‘The whole thing might have been passed off as an accident,’ Strathmore agreed.

‘Yes, but you had another reason for wanting it to be found,’ said Cribb. ‘You wanted the world to know that Brand had cheated, and the handkerchief was going to be the proof of that. Instead, you were put into the position of calling him a fraud without any proof at all. Even after he was dead, you couldn’t bear to let anyone believe he might have been genuine, and you made your change of opinion very clear. I remember that Captain Nye commented upon it at the time.’

‘Quite right,’ said Nye. ‘It was a damned quick turn about, and I said so. You also made some very dubious remarks about my fiancée’s part in the seance.’

‘With good foundation, I gather,’ said Strathmore. He ignored Nye’s spluttering reaction to this, and faced Cribb. ‘Thank you for the explanation, Sergeant. I can see that my mistake was that I behaved unscientifically. I made an assertion which I knew to be true before I could support it with a demonstrable proof. I should have waited for the
post mortem
to have shown incontestably that Brand was a cheat. I was unscientific, but I can at least claim to have acted in a way consistent with truth, as I have always tried to do in my years of searching for the evidence of life after death. I cannot say the same of all my fellow-searchers.’ He faced Cribb steadily and at that moment looked the least guilt-ridden of all Dr Probert’s guests. ‘Do you require a statement at this stage, Sergeant, or will you take it at the police station?’

‘WILL HE HANG?’ Thackeray asked Cribb in the small hours of the morning after the door was closed on Strathmore’s cell in Richmond police station.

‘Difficult to say. It’s got the makings of a classic trial. Everything should hinge on the question of intent. If you read the statement through, you’ll notice that he gave a very clear account of his actions, but said nothing of motives. He’s a very knowing card, is our Mr Strathmore, and he’ll stand up well in the dock. Yes, I think a good defence counsel has the chance of winning an acquittal. We’ve done our job. It’s a matter for the lawyers now.’

‘The press will have a field-day when Miss Crush and Alice Probert go into the witness-box. By the way, Sarge, the Proberts still don’t seem to know the real reason why Alice kept visiting the hat-shop. They don’t know what I saw through the window at Maids of Honour Row, and nor does Captain Nye.’

‘Better all round if they never find out,’ said Cribb. ‘It won’t affect the outcome of the case. No need to upset Captain Nye any more. He’s a great bore, I know, but he’ll make a staunch husband for Alice Probert, and she needs an anchorage. Why, if you think back on it, you probably imagined it all, swaying up there on a trellis, trying to see through a first-floor window.’

‘I don’t imagine things,’ protested Thackeray. ‘I had a perfectly clear view. The sun was shining into the room. I’ve always been an accurate observer.’

Cribb shook his head slowly. ‘Thackeray, it’s very late, I know, and this has been a hard week. I would have thought it might have taught you that you can’t believe everything your eyes tell you, but as it obviously hasn’t, I must tell you about an item of police equipment that you may not know you have. It’s your blind eye, and it’s just as important as your bullseye lamp or your truncheon. Knowing when to use it is the test of a successful bobby.’ He put his hand on Thackeray’s shoulder. ‘When we met the Proberts they were a disunited family, but I think they’ve learned a little. Let’s turn that blind eye and leave ’em the chance of finding a spot of harmony.’

‘If you say so, Sarge,’ said Thackeray, ‘but I wouldn’t put the chance very high.’

‘Why not?’

‘There was something I noticed earlier this evening, but I didn’t report it to you. I was—er—using my blind eye.’

‘Oh?’ Cribb gave Thackeray a long look.

‘Yes, I was waiting in the corridor outside the library while you were reconstructing the seance, if you remember. I didn’t hear much of what was going on, but I saw Professor Quayle tiptoe into the study and come out again.’

‘Quite right,’ said Cribb. ‘That was what he did on Saturday. He played his part convincingly.’

‘That’s a fact, Sarge. He even had a bottle of gin in his pocket. After he came out of the study he made his way upstairs to Mrs Probert’s room.’

‘That wasn’t strictly necessary to the investigation,’ said Cribb, ‘but I suppose he was retracing the movements he made on Saturday.’

‘That’s what I supposed, Sarge, and I thought I’d better try to play your part and follow him upstairs. And that was when I had to turn my blind eye.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I think Mrs Probert didn’t understand what he was coming up the stairs for. She opened her door and instead of throwing her book of sermons at him she pulled him inside and closed it. I shouldn’t think there will be much of that gin left by now, and I don’t give much chance of harmony on Richmond Hill tonight when Dr Probert finds out.’

Cribb smiled. ‘I wouldn’t lose any sleep over that, Thackeray. The last I saw of Dr Probert, he was inviting Miss Crush to take a look at his Etty.’

‘Well, I hope she knows how to turn a blind eye,’ said Thackeray.

BOOK: A Case of Spirits
10.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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