Crossword Mystery (20 page)

“Yes, sir. Only I can't see why it was necessary to do that – get rid of the dog, I mean. If Mr. Winterton was expecting anyone, he could easily have kept the dog quiet. I'm sure Mr. Winterton was very puzzled at the dog's death. I think it frightened him.”

“So far as regards the Laura Shipman girl,” Mitchell observed, “she seems out of what's happened just now. It seems clear that after Owen here saw her, and paid her the reward, she left to visit some friends at Cromer.”

“Ran away,” suggested Major Markham. “Why? Knew what was coming, perhaps.”

“You'll be able to tell that better after you've heard her story,” Mitchell agreed.

“Probably it'll be a job to get her to speak at all,” Major Markham remarked pessimistically. “They all know they needn't if they don't want to.” He referred again to Bobby's report. “You mention in your statement that you saw footprints on the grass of the lawn – leading to the body?”

“Yes, sir, they were quite plain,” Bobby answered. “They led straight to the body, and then back to the gravel path, just opposite the front door of the house.”

“You didn't measure them?”

“There wasn't time, sir,” Bobby answered, and told again how they had vanished before his eyes – drunk up, as it were, by the suddenly released heat of the sun.

There was a silence for a moment, for his tale, of how the mute evidence of the trail the murderer left had passed away even while Bobby watched, impressed itself oddly upon the imaginations of his listeners. Then Markham, still studying the report, said:

“You are quite clear there were traces of dew on Colin Ross's shoes?”

“Yes, sir.”

“His statement is that he stepped on the grass borders after he came out of the house, and that accounts for it?”

“I am sure that's not true,” Bobby answered. “I am quite certain he had only just come down from the front-door steps on to the gravel path when I spoke to him.”

“The murder took place, apparently, from the doctor's evidence,” Markham continued, “somewhere about midnight or a little after. He is quite certain about it; though, in my experience, the more certain a doctor is, the more likely he is to be mistaken. Anyhow, no dew could have fallen by then, and you say yourself, in your report, that the ground under the body seemed dry?”

“Yes, sir,” agreed Bobby again. “I thought at first – I am afraid I was a bit rattled – but just at first I took it the dew on Mr. Ross's shoes proved he was the murderer. Now, I think it only proves that he, not I, was the first to discover the body. Only, why didn't he give an alarm? Unless, of course, he committed the murder earlier and went back later to the body for some reason – either to get something he wanted perhaps, or perhaps to destroy some evidence he was afraid would implicate him.” Bobby paused, and added: “I've seen the list of articles found on the body. There was no mention of a pocket-book I saw Mr. Winterton using several times.”

“It was lying on the table here,” explained Markham. “It has been identified as the one he habitually carried. It had money still in it – about twelve pounds in notes – some letters that don't seem very important, the ‘released from prison' telegram, and one or two other papers.”

As he spoke he handed to Bobby a careful list of the contents of the pocket-book. Bobby brooded over it for a moment or two in silence. Then he said:

“Mr. Winterton was working at a crossword puzzle he seemed very interested in. He wouldn't let anyone see it but he told me once or twice I might find it worth looking at when it was finished. I don't know why he said that, or whether he meant anything. But he used to keep his notes about it in his pocket-book, for I've seen him put them away in it, rather carefully, once or twice. From this list, it seems they weren't in it when it was found.”

“If there had been anything of the kind, it would certainly have been mentioned,” Major Markham agreed. “But I don't see that it matters, does it ? Most likely he got tired of the thing and tore it up. Anyhow, we are here to solve a crime – a murder – not a crossword puzzle.”

“Yes, sir,” agreed Bobby, rebuked, but with something in his tone that made Major Markham ask him sharply:

“You don't suggest that what Colin Ross wanted was to get hold of a crossword puzzle, do you?”

“I don't see my way clearly enough to think anything at all as yet, sir,” Bobby answered frankly. “Except that I think it strange Mr. Winterton talked about it to me once or twice, and that now it's vanished, when I am sure he was very interested in it – for some reason, only heaven knows what!”

“Well, anyhow, there's no trace of it in his papers,” Major Markham observed. “What's more important is that Mr. Waring tells us more than twenty thousand pounds of Mr. Winterton's capital seems to have disappeared lately – and putting things together, that and the ‘released prisoner' telegram, I say, blackmail.”

“It's my own idea,” agreed Mr. Waring. “Only – I can't imagine that a man like Winterton – Poor fellow, I knew him well – it seems incredible, blackmail. The actual amount is nearly twenty-five thousand pounds, as far as I can make out at present.”

“Twenty-five thousand pounds,” repeated Bobby, staggered at the size of the sum. “But surely, an amount like that can't have just – vanished.”

“Seems so,” Major Markham told him. “Mr. Waring tells us that late last year the two brothers, Archibald and George, realised securities to somewhere about that amount. The explanation they gave Mr. Waring is that they intended exchange speculations – about the quickest way there is just now of making money.”

“Of losing it,” interposed Mr. Waring gently. “Of losing it.”

“After Archibald's still unexplained death,” Major Markham went on, “George realised another ten or twelve thousand, explaining to Mr. Waring that their transactions were incomplete, and that he would take over all liabilities and return his brother's share of the capital employed to his widow. That was done, and Mr. Waring knows nothing more, and, so far, there's no trace in Mr. Winterton's papers of what became of the money.”

“Went down the drain, most likely,” interposed Mr. Waring again; “that's your exchange speculating all over.”

“Only we don't know,” said Major Markham. “And we ought to know. What's become of that money may have an intimate bearing on the case. Another thing, our finger-print people have found Colin Ross's finger-prints on the cover of the pocket-book. He accounts for that by saying that his uncle dropped it on the floor last night, and he picked it up and returned it to him. He says no one saw the incident. Miss Raby says no such incident occurred, to the best of her knowledge; and she was in Mr. Winterton's company the whole day after lunch. Ross's finger-prints have also been found on the handle of the door leading from this room to the garden. Ross says, last night he went in and out by that door once or twice. Miss Raby says he was never in the room till tea, and she is certain he did not use the door or even go near it. The handle of the knife found in Mr. Winterton's body has been examined, and the report has just been 'phoned to us. It is an ordinary kitchen knife – such as any number of shops sell, and any number of people use. Colin Ross's finger-prints are on it, too. He says he only remembers touching a knife of the kind once recently – when Mrs. Cooper asked him to do some trifling job for her, two or three days ago. Mrs. Cooper remembers the incident perfectly, but says she only has two knives like this one, and they are both still in the kitchen. She produced them. The analyst's report says that, while the recent blood on the knife is human, there is dried blood in the crevice between handle and blade that is undoubtedly animal. So that makes it look as if it was the same knife that was used before for getting rid of the dog.”

“I wonder,” observed Bobby thoughtfully, “if there was any reason, after Mr. Winterton's head had been beaten in in the brutal way it was, why a knife should be used as well?”

“To make sure, I suppose,” Major Markham answered. “Quite natural – you often notice murderers never feel they are sure enough. In that connection, the weapon used for the murder has been found – in the garden, behind some bushes. It's a brick, apparently taken from a heap behind one of the outhouses, left over, I understand, when some repairs were carried out a year or two ago. There is blood on it, and there is no doubt it is what was used. Colin Ross, of course, would have known the bricks were lying there. Also, he acknowledges he has been betting heavily, and that probably means losing heavily – it generally does. If so, he would be pressed for money. But against that is the fact that Mr. Waring tells us Mr. Winterton has never altered an old will by which all his money goes to his brother and his brother's heirs, so that in fact none of the three nephews benefit. But it is doubtful if Ross knew that. It seems George Winterton had intended to make a will dividing his estate between the nephews; and they would have had a share, too, if he had died intestate. We can't rule out the possibility that Ross expected to inherit a big share of the estate. Only I don't know if that can be proved. There seems no doubt, however, that Winterton had given all his three young men to understand he was intending to alter his will in their favour.”

“One of whom,” put in Mitchell suddenly, “is known to have been in the neighbourhood last night, and is also said to have been on bad terms with Winterton.”

“Exactly,” agreed Major Markham. “So, had we better investigate Miles's movements last night, and hear what he has to say first, or is what we know enough to justify us in taking action against Ross? And, in any event, wouldn't it be better to wait till the matter of the ‘released prisoner' telegram has been cleared up? With such a clear clue in our hands, and such a simple task as discovering to whom the telegram referred, it might be better to wait before taking any overt action – no use risking a blunder when we're pretty sure to know for certain before long. In the meantime we can keep a sharp look-out on Ross. If he's guilty, he may give himself away. They often do.”

“That's to be your job, Owen,” Mitchell explained to Bobby.

He added: “What do you think yourself – that Ross did it?”

“Well, sir, at present it seems there's too much unexplained to make it worth while forming any opinion,” Bobby answered slowly. “I should like it all to hang together better than it does. We haven't got the visit of that motor-launch explained, and we know no more than we did about Archibald's death – if it was accident, or murder, or, if so, who was responsible?”

“We shall most likely,” Major Markham said, with conviction, “once we've got to the bottom of that telegram – won't be difficult either, I imagine, when we know it must be someone released so recently.”

“There's so much that wants fitting in,” Bobby went on, half to himself. “The swilling down of the Greek Temple summer-house in the garden here, for example, and the disappearance of the crossword puzzle. I would give a lot to find that and have a look at it.”

But of this crossword puzzle it seemed no sign or trace remained in the crowd of papers that filled the drawers of Mr. Winterton's writing-table, or, indeed, anywhere else; and, though Major Markham did go so far as to promise that Bobby should be informed if it, or any notes concerning it, were found, very plainly he attached no importance to it.

“Just his way of passing his time,” he commented, dismissing the matter with a gesture. “It's a perfect craze with some people – crossword puzzles, I mean. Why, I've an uncle who fines himself a shilling for charity for every minute over twenty he takes solving the one in the
Telegraph
each morning, and allows himself sixpence off for every minute he takes less than the twenty. He says he was three and six up last year, and will be more this time most likely. And I expect Winterton was like that, only he was trying his hand at composing instead of solving.”

With this Bobby had to be content; and when presently he was dismissed from the study he found Mrs. Cooper in the hall, evidently still worried about her future and that of her husband, and about how the household was to be carried on.

“There's the books,” she said. “Mr. Winterton, poor gentleman, would have given me the money to pay them to-morrow, and now I don't know what I'm to do.”

Bobby promised to speak to Mr. Waring, who was, he understood, an executor under the will, and later, Mr. Waring himself talked to Mrs. Cooper – Cooper himself, still suffering from shock, had retired to bed – and arranged for her and her husband to continue in charge for the present, with authority to meet all necessary expenses.

Colin also, who had said something about finding rooms in London, was asked if he minded staying on at Fairview for the present. It would be convenient, he was told; there were still various matters about which he might be able to give the police useful information, and it might save them much time and trouble if he would remain on the spot for a few days. Somewhat grudgingly, he consented, but Bobby was aware of an odd impression that in reality this arrangement suited Colin very well, and that he had no real intention of quitting Suffby Cove just yet. It might be, of course, that he wished to remain on the spot to watch his interests, for that Colin had a very keen eye for money Bobby was quite convinced. It was understood, further, that Miss Raby was to stay on for the time. Bobby also was to remain ostensibly as a principal witness whose evidence would be required at the inquest; in reality to watch events in general and Colin Ross in particular.

The hour was late before Major Markham and his assistants departed, and even then a sergeant of the county police was left in charge, since much routine work still remained to be done. Both Mitchell and the lawyer had left earlier in the evening, and the remaining inmates of the house, after a day of such great and terrible nervous strain, were anxious enough to seek their beds.