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Authors: Gladys Mitchell

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BOOK: Adders on the Heath
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The ponies took no notice of Arthur, for they were farther off than he had realised and his weary little legs soon caused him to call off the chase.

'Wonder why the figures been going up so much this last two years,' remarked Mrs Bath, watching her son's listless approach. 'Arthur's tired hisself.'

'Figures?' Dame Beatrice enquired.

'Yes,
you
know. Injured on the roads. Ponies. I see the figures in the paper the other day. Funny enough, it's only the pony figures as 'as gone up. Cattle and deer is down, and the pannage pigs, well, of course, they're seasonal and don't trouble the roads, anyway. You know what I sometimes wonder?'

'No, I don't think I do.'

'I sometimes wonder whether the gippoes 'ave got a system.'

'A system?'

'For knocking of 'em off.
You
know-stealing 'em.
I
don't reckon all them ponies gets killed.'

'But I thought there were strict laws about reporting animals injured or killed on the roads. Do not the bodies have to be produced? Are there not people called Agisters with responsibility for such matters?'

'I know nothing of that, Dame Beatrice, but Mabel's husband-the policeman, you know-he will 'ave it there's something fishy going on, and he's a man right out of the Forest, as you might say. It was him as pointed them figures out to me and it was then he said it. "There's something fishy about them figures Deirdre," he said, "and if
I
was Chief Constable," he says, "I'd want to look into it," he says, "because the number of motorists booked don't have all that connection with the number of ponies as is missing." That's what he said.'

'Really!' said Dame Beatrice; and she tucked away the information in her memory. 'That's very interesting indeed.'

'Well,' said Mrs Bath, getting up from the seat, 'I think we'll be getting along. It's been ever so nice meetin' up with you again, Dame Beatrice.'

In spite of the mother's protests, Dame Beatrice carried the baby back to the hotel. Arthur, sturdy and independent to the last, refused to be helped, but raised no objection to orangeade and biscuits in the hotel lounge. The baby had milk and the ladies coffee, and the porter went to warn George to bring round the car.

As soon as she had seen the family off from the hotel steps. Dame Beatrice rang up the Superintendent. He was in his office and promised to be with her in about an hour. Dame Beatrice invited him to lunch, and told him, with a cackle which disconcerted him, that he need not worry about having to sit at the same table as his chief suspect. She would arrange, she said, for the young men to have a table for two, so that, with perfect propriety, he might join herself and Laura. The Superintendent accepted with alacrity. There was shepherd's pie on the menu at home.

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

DESPATCHES FROM THREE FRONTS

 

'As he handled it he could not help noticing how pliable it was, especially for so strong a rope, and one not in use.

'"You could hang a man with it," he thought to himself. When his preparations were made he looked around, and said complacently:

'"There now, my friend, I think we shall learn something of you this time!"'

Bram Stoker

 

They sat at a table in the window, the Superintendent facing the garden, Dame Beatrice with her back to it, and Laura at Dame Beatrice's left hand. The Superintendent seemed mildly pleased with life, but he spoke of nothing beyond commonplaces until they were taking cheese at the end of the meal.

'We're getting somewhere,' he observed. 'Do you think they'd let us have that little room again?'

Dame Beatrice said she thought it could be managed, as the retired naval officer who usually laid claim to it was still away. To the drawing-room lounge, therefore, they repaired. Laura bolted the french windows, locked the door (after the porter had been requested to put the
Engaged
notice on the corridor side of it) and the three settled down, with coffee, for what Laura referred to as a nice cosy chat.

Outside the windows the garden showed every sign of autumn. Horsechestnut burrs strewed the grass and the flowers were becoming bedraggled. Every fir tree bore its cones and a vivid creeper was gay with reds and yellows. There were blackbirds on the lawn, but their brilliant summer song had given place to a monotonous and querulous chirping.

'Those birds sing flat,' remarked Laura. Dame Beatrice, bolt upright on the only straight-backed chair in the room, asked the Superintendent to enlarge upon his promising beginning.

'You are getting somewhere?' she asked, prompting him.

'We are, I think,' he replied. 'Acting on your suggestions, we had another go at Mr and Mrs Campden-Towne. The gentleman was not at home, but the good lady told me that he was at his Southampton office. I got her to give me the address and telephone number and went there by car. He wasn't there, but I was given the address and number of his London office. I rang up and was told that he was expected but had not arrived.'

'He seems an elusive gentleman,' Dame Beatrice remarked.

'Yes. Well, as I badly wanted to see him, I thought I might as well kill two birds with one stone, so I went first to that hotel in Kensington where the Campden-Townes were supposed to have stayed, and gave them a description of Mrs Maidston. She isn't a bit like Mrs Campden-Towne to look at-as you, Dame Beatrice, will testify-and, in her own way, is quite striking but rather small. They hadn't any difficulty in recalling her. Of course, I referred to her as Mrs Campden-Towne and then I asked about the husband. Well, the description was of a tall, thinnish chap with a bald forehead. This doesn't fit Campden-Towne, who's about as wide as he's high and has thick brown hair.'

'I never did think that visit of the Campden-Townes to London would hold water,' Dame Beatrice observed. 'It was altogether too opportune.'

'That's as maybe, ma'am. I then went to Campden-Towne's London office. By that time he'd arrived. He trades under the name of S. Ponly Ltd. and is in a pretty good line of business, I should think. Everything looked plush. Well, I challenged him, straight to the point. Told him I knew he hadn't been in London on the nights in question-that's to say, the time when the murders were committed and the bodies disposed of. (I was bluffing there a bit, of course.) I asked him where he
had
been at the times stated, and I hinted that I knew more than I'd actually said.

'Well, he's a cagey bird and a bold one. He sent me to the devil, asked where was my authority for questioning him and told me to prove he wasn't in Kensington when he had said he was. I said I was only asking for his help, but he blew a raspberry at that one and stuck to it that he was being victimised by the police.'

'I wonder how phoney his business is,' said Laura. The Superintendent shook his head.

'It's all it should be, so far as I can make out from other enquiries I instituted,' he said. 'I'm afraid we can get no angle there at present, Mrs Gavin. Still, there's plenty of scope yet. Mind you, I left him a bit thoughtful, I could see that. My trouble is, though, that even if I can prove he never went near that Kensington hotel, I can't prove that he murdered those two men. I've still to establish a connection between him and them, and there's no line of contact at present.'

'Would his business link up with protection money?' asked Laura.

'Not unless it's a cover for something illegal,' the Superintendent replied, 'or perhaps a bookmaking side-line.'

'I wonder whether a discreet question or two at the headquarters of the Scylla and District Social and Athletic Club would help to establish the required connection between him and the dead men,' said Dame Beatrice. The Superintendent looked doubtful.

'We might try, I suppose,' he said. 'Well, look now Dame Beatrice, you yourself have already had friendly relations with some of the members, so you might be willing to take on that aspect and save me the job. I am not too anxious to make a police matter of it with the club if I can avoid it. The less publicity my efforts are given, the better it will be at present.'

'I had friendly contact with Mrs Bath again today,' said Dame Beatrice. She gave an account of her walk. 'I think, from what she told me, that Mrs Bath might be able to throw a side-light, if nothing stronger, on to Mr Campden-Towne's business activities.'

The Superintendent made a note. Then he said,

'I also went to see Mr and Mrs Maidston. My word! That boy of theirs is a coughdrop!'

'Yes. He isn't theirs, of course. They were fostering him with a view to a possible adoption. That boy, Superintendent, was in Mr Richardson's form at the preparatory school until his foster-parents took him away.'

'Was he indeed? That might be worth looking into. What was their reason? Did you gather that?'

'Not from Mrs Maidston and only obliquely from the boy. By the way, what was the result of your interview with Borgia Robinson? You did go and see him, I take it?'

'Oh, him! A nasty bit of work if ever there was one! Actually suggested he should
sell
me his information!
Sell
it me! I soon told him where he got off, and, of course, I've still got to check on what he told me. I suppose you've guessed what that was, ma'am?'

'Well, it is nothing but guesswork, as you suggest, but my guess would be that he told you about the missing poisons-the hydrocyanic acid and the potassium cyanide.'

'Dead right. Mind you, according to him, only a small quantity of each was missing, but enough to provide more than one lethal dose. He as good as accused Mr Richardson, but, in spite of what I think, I took him up very short on that, and told him to be careful what he said. All the same, he'd said it.'

'Yes, of course he would. He has read the newspapers. No, Superintendent, I am pretty sure who it was who obtained possession of the poisons, and it was not Mr Richardson. I am convinced that it was the child Clive, probably as the result of a "dare," or possibly to give himself a sense of power. I think the wretched Robinson found out about it, or, much worse, sold Clive the poisons and then put pressure on the boy. The boy, who has a keen sense of
sauve qui peut
, appealed to his foster-mother to be taken away from the school and so out of Robinson's clutches, and, as his wishes sometimes seem to be law-he probably threatened to run away if she did not take him away-'

'I see. Could well be, of course.' The Superintendent rubbed his jaw. 'But even if, through the boy, we could trace possession of the poisons to the Maidstons, it wouldn't help us much if the couple were safely tucked away in a Kensington hotel at the time of the murders, would it?'

'Well, first things first,' said Dame Beatrice, refusing to play to the gambit. 'I will tackle the members of the Scylla and District club and see whether there is anything there to help us.'

'One trouble,' said the Superintendent, 'is that, so far, we haven't a clue as to where the murders took place, nor can we find out what the men were doing up to the time of their deaths. Only one thing seems clear. Going by the medical evidence, they must have died at pretty much the same time and that means it was likely they were together when they took the poisons. If the murderer hadn't been fool enough to move the bodies, we might almost have expected the coroner's jury to suggest it was a suicide pact.'

'Unlikely, in my opinion, Superintendent. But with reference to the murderer's foolishness, doesn't it occur to you that he
had
to move the bodies?'

'You mean the place where they would otherwise have been found would have given away the identity of the murderer, ma'am?'

'Exactly.'

'And you think they would have been found at Campden-Towne's place?'

'No, but I think they might have been found on the back seat of his car.'

'In the back of his car? But...'

'I should not be surprised if you found that he and his wife entertained the two young men at whichever house or hotel they patronised while they were supposed to be staying in London.'

'And the poison was administered there? Too dangerous, surely? The two men might have dropped dead in the hotel. That would have taken some explaining.'

'I envisage something more in the nature of a stirrup cup, after they were all in the car.'

'Two flasks, you mean, one for the Campden-Townes and the other for the victims? The difficulty there, ma'am, is that two different, although, I suppose, related poisons were used. They'd have needed
three
flasks.'

'I do not think the point need trouble us at present. Let us take the broad view. And, speaking of the broad view, what did you make of the Maidstons?'

'Well, they denied that they stayed in that London hotel, but I don't think they've got anything more to hide except, as you say, concerning the boy. Your suggestion that he may have pinched or purchased the poisons I find very interesting, but we've yet to prove it, and I don't like frightening kids.'

'I agree, and on the major issue of the murders I do not think we shall need to involve the boy. On the other hand, if we can trace those poisons to him, we may be in a strong position to find out what happened to them afterwards. The Maidstons and the Campden-Townes seem to be very close friends.'

The Superintendent said nothing, but drummed on the arm of his chair. Dame Beatrice realised what he must be thinking, but she waited for him to speak.

'Of course, ma'am,' he said at last, 'you do see that, if the lad was in Mr Richardson's form at school, and got hold of the poisons, it is more likely, on the face of it, for Mr Richardson to have confiscated the stuff and so got it into his possession, than that the foster-parents found out about it and took it away from the lad, don't you?'

'I admit the possibility, Superintendent,' replied Dame Beatrice blandly. 'Schoolmasters do confiscate the dangerous, illegal or irritating property of boys. You would have to prove, however, that Mr Richardson knew that Clive had possession of these lethal substances. Besides, there is the evidence supplied by the boy himself.'

'A first-rate little liar I should class him as,' commented the Superintendent sourly. 'Anyway, ma'am, if I might involve you a little deeper in the affair, I'd like to suggest that you undertake another enquiry at the school. You are known to the Headmaster and would find him less difficult of approach, perhaps, than I should. Prompted by you, a question or two from him to the other boys who were in Clive's form at the time should establish whether Mr Richardson could have known that Clive had the poisons in his possession.'

'You regard me as impartial in this affair, Superintendent?'

'No, ma'am. I know you're all out to put Mr Richardson in the clear, but I also know that you won't tamper with the truth.'

'Hear, hear!' said Laura unnecessarily. Dame Beatrice nodded.

'Very well,' she said. 'The Scylla shall be my wash-pot and upon the Headmaster will I cast out my shoe. What is more, I will pay another visit to the Maidstons and will find out, if possible, whether Clive did take samples from the poisons cupboard in the chemistry laboratory and, if he did, what happened to them. I intend to promise the child diplomatic immunity if he betrays guilty knowledge of the exploit.'

The Superintendent looked a little doubtful.

'I don't want to put wind up the little so-and-so,' he said, 'but, of course, do as you like, ma'am. It all comes under the same heading, I suppose.'

'That angels can rush in where-er-the police fear to tread,' said Laura. 'May I come with you on these expeditions, Mrs Croc, dear? Only to be in the car, not to be present at the interviews.'

'Your presence will be a solace in the case of disappointment, an inspiration if I meet with success,' Dame Beatrice replied.

The Superintendent unlocked the door and bowed the ladies out.

 

BOOK: Adders on the Heath
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