Death on Allhallowe’en (5 page)

Murrain, with a sly obsequious smile, indicated the open door of the room to the right of the front door from which the woman's voice had come, and Carolus entered.

He found Alice Murrain to be a big woman wearing old-fashioned clothes, including a silk blouse with a high neckband. Her face was pasty and the dark eyes, peering sharply from above the unhealthy white cheeks, had a curious feline vivacity.

‘We were expecting you,' she said.

‘So I see. Very kind of you,' said Carolus brightly.

‘Will you have a glass of Madeira?'

‘Thanks, but it's too early for me. I came to see you both about this ridiculous affair of the shot fired last night. Why on earth did your husband say he hadn't heard it? Horseman's not a complete fool, you know.'

Murrain, who had followed Carolus into the room, seemed about to speak, but his wife anticipated him. Carolus had a feeling that his breezy approach had made them change their prearranged line.

‘He didn't hear it. He was out of earshot by then.'

‘How did he get out of earshot? Broomstick, levitation or motor-cycle?'

‘He is a fast walker. But I heard it. It struck the roof above my bedroom window, which was open. I was in the room at the time.'

‘I see. Lucky it didn't hit you.'

‘Not lucky, Carolus Deene. There is no such thing as luck. Everything is fore-doomed.'

‘I dare say. How did you account for a shot being fired at your roof after nightfall? Did you think it was intended for you?'

Alice Murrain closed her eyes for a moment, then said in an oracular voice, ‘The foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines.'

'I say, don't go into a trance, will you? I can do that too, but I always think it's so ill-mannered. What's this about foxes?'

Gerald Murrain broke in.

‘We've lost a number of chickens lately,' he said lugubriously.

‘That's better. Vines are so improbable, whatever the
Song of Solomon
says. But you don't have foxes on the roof, do you?'

Alice Murrain sighed.

‘I let it be known in the village that I wanted the fox destroyed.'

‘And you thought someone was having a go? But that doesn't account for his hitting the roof.'

‘You
must account for that, Carolus Deene.'

‘I wish you wouldn't call me “Carolus Deene” in that Cromwellian sort of way. There is really no need to behave like that with me. Or to try to stare me out. I know all about the old Evil Eye lark.'

‘You are a sceptic, Mr Deene,' said Alice Murrain with the suggestion of a smile.

‘No. I'm a Catholic. If I thought you were in earnest I'd make the sign of the cross at you. Then according to tradition you'd have to disappear in smoke, which would be a pity because I'm enjoying our chat. Let's all drop the dramatics and behave like reasonable people.'

Alice Murrain showed no displeasure at this suggestion. Her composure seemed impregnable.

‘What is reasonable to one person may not be so to another. We all have our standards.'

‘Quite. Who fired that shot last night, Mrs Murrain?'

‘I don't know.'

‘Then couldn't you get out your crystal ball and have a look-see?'

‘I am not a fortune-teller.'

‘No. More of a misfortune-teller, I understand. But by one means or another, what you call reasonable or what I do, you must surely know who it was?'

'I'm afraid not. It is a matter for your kind of investigation or deduction, not for mine, if I have any.'

‘What about your Second Sight? Isn't that part of your equipment?'

Mrs Murrain smiled.

‘Like most sceptics you are very credulous. You really shouldn't believe all you're told in Clibburn.'

‘No. But I believe what I see. Last night I saw a very frightened man and I want to know the explanation. I don't see why you shouldn't make it easier. I shall find it in the end.'

Then, for the first time in the interview, Carolus had a shock. In the same monotonous, good-humoured voice Alice said, ‘If you live long enough.'

Carolus recovered quickly.

‘If, as you say, I live long enough. You wouldn't be trying to scare me to death, would you, Mrs Murrain?'

‘People sometimes scare themselves to death.'

‘Yes. That's true too, but it doesn't get us much farther, does it?' He turned suddenly and rather savagely on Gerald Murrain, who had been sitting uneasily near the door. ‘Why did you start waving that torch about last night?' he asked.

Once again Alice interrupted.

‘That is the kind of questioning I will not permit in my house. I have put up with a good deal of impertinence from you, but don't suppose you can behave like an investigating detective.'

Carolus ignored this, and, still looking at the wretched Gerald, said, ‘And why did you lie to Horseman about the shot?'

‘Will you kindly leave the house?' said Alice.

‘Of course. At once. But I must tell you both before I go that for me you're just a pair of suspects. The people of Clibburn may believe that you can fly through the air on broomsticks and put curses on their crops, or what have you, but to me you're plain Mr and Mrs Murrain, suspects in an investigation.'

Alice had risen to her feet.

‘Suspects of what?' she asked haughtily.

‘Murder,' said Carolus, and without looking back passed out of the house, leaving the two to decide what murder he meant.

He had not achieved much, but Alice Murrain had achieved nothing at all if she had really hoped to intimidate him. On the other hand, she was surely too intelligent to mouth one of those ‘Beware the Ides of March' warnings.

Just as he was approaching the gate Ebby Smith became visible, seeming to materialise near a shrub in the border, looking like a malignant leprechaun if there is such a thing.

‘Hullo there,' called Carolus. ‘We meet again. Are you part of the circus here?'

‘I work here, Mondays and Thursdays.'

‘Feeding the chickens?'

Ebby Smith gave him a guarded look, then said, ‘Oh. Ah. The chickens.'

‘I hear they've been losing some of them lately.'

‘Not that I know of. I only come on Mondays and Thursdays.'

‘So you said. No foxes about on those days perhaps?'

‘Foxes? What are you talking about? I must get on with my work. You're in danger, mister. I'll tell you that for nothing. Mortal danger.'

‘What of?'

‘Perdition, that's what. The devil is come down unto you, having great wrath, because he knoweth that he hath but a short time.'

What a day this is for quotations! thought Carolus, and remembered that the devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.

‘Do you think he has a gun?' asked Carolus.

Ebby looked up.

‘What's that?'

‘A gun. Like the one fired last night.'

This brought a hostile stare to Ebby's wrinkled face.

‘Take heed of what I'm telling you and go!' he said. ‘Go!
There's no room for you in this place. You're in with the Rector and all his works. Go while there's yet time.'

‘You said that bit well, Ebby. But next time someone tells you to talk like that to me, tell him—or her, for that matter—not to waste your time. Call down wrath on your congregation on Sunday and don't let's quarrel.'

Ebby said something that he would not repeat in his bethel or anywhere else, and Carolus laughed in a friendly manner and walked away.

From the road outside he glanced at the roof but, as he expected, saw nothing unusual.

Back at the rectory he met Mrs Lark in the hall.

‘Hullo,' she said. ‘Been round the vil? Not much to see, is it? The Rec's in the stud with Charl Slo.'

‘Did Charlie Sloman call of his own accord?' asked Carolus.

‘Well, the Rec told me if I saw him in the vil to bring him back if I could. He didn't need much persuas. Funny boy. I don't think he's as simp as they say.'

Carolus had the same impression when he saw Charlie Sloman sitting bolt upright in a straight chair, looking alert and watchful rather than absent-minded.

John explained that he had sent for him ‘to tell us about that shot last night'.

‘Yes, well, I heard it,' said Charlie Sloman.

He appeared to ignore the presence of Carolus and kept his eyes on John, but from time to time he gave quick, furtive glances at Carolus.

‘Where were you when it was fired, Charlie?' Carolus asked.

Charlie continued to stare at John.

‘Round about the church,' he said.

‘In the churchyard?'

‘Thereabouts.'

‘But you didn't see who fired it?'

‘No. I didn't see anything. Just heard the bang, that's all. Hell of a big bang it seemed to me.'

‘Was it near you?'

'Pretty near. Least, it seemed to be. I thought my ears was blasted.'

‘If it was so near you must have seen who fired it?'

‘No, I didn't. It was pretty dark.'

John broke in.

‘But you're always around at night, Charlie. You must be able to see your way about.'

‘Some things I can. Didn't see a thing last night. Just heard this bang.'

‘Was it behind you or in front of you?' asked Carolus.

‘That I couldn't say. It didn't half give me a start, going off like that.'

‘It was actually
in
the churchyard?'

‘Must have been.'

‘And you were too?'

Charlie looked cautious.

‘Round there somewhere,' he said. ‘Can't remember just where.'

‘Who do you think can have fired it?'

‘Can't say.'

‘But why was it fired, do you think?'

‘No idea at all. Unless it was the fox.'

Carolus recognised this as a break-through and followed it up.

‘What fox?'

Charlie seemed to realise he had said too much.

‘I did hear that Murrains had been troubled with a fox after their chickens.'

‘Where did you hear that?'

‘Can't say. Someone must have told me.'

‘And when you heard the shot you thought, Ah, that's someone firing at that fox of Murrains.'

Charlie brightened. ‘Ah. That's it. That's what I thought.'

‘Who did you think it would be?'

‘Couldn't say at all. Might have been anyone. Lots knew about it.'

'It might have been your brother, for instance?'

‘Drummer? No. Wouldn't have been him. Not Drummer, it wouldn't have been.'

‘Why not? He must have known about the fox.'

‘May have. I couldn't say. But it wouldn't have been Drummer. He'd have told me if he was going after it. Besides, he was out ferreting over in Kirby Woods, a long way away. On his motor-bike, he was, and wouldn't be back till after midnight. No, it wasn't Drummer.'

‘Did he take his gun with him?'

‘What gun?'

‘He's got a gun, hasn't he?'

‘Oh, yes. He's got a gun all right. He's a gamekeeper, isn't he? But he didn't take it last night.' ‘How do you know?'

‘Stands to reason. On a motor-bike? To go ferreting? Besides, I saw it at home when I got in. It wasn't Drummer fired that shot.'

‘Then who was it?'

‘Couldn't say. Couldn't say at all.'

‘Square one,' put in John.

‘It wasn't you, was it, Charlie?'

The little bluff failed. Charlie grinned.

‘No. It wasn't me. Why not? Because I can't fire a gun. That's why not. Drummer won't let me handle one. I've got to be going now, Mr Stainer.'

‘Just a moment, Charlie. Did you hear where that shot went?'

‘Some say it hit the roof of Murrain's house.'

‘Yes, but did you hear that at the time?'

‘I only heard that bang. Nothing more. It may have hit the roof, for all I know.'

Carolus had waited to ask the crucial question.

‘What made you run after Major Horseman and ask if he was all right?'

Charlie looked confused.

'I don't know. I thought he might have been hurt by the shot.'

‘Oh. You had seen him passing?'

‘Must have done, I suppose. I don't rightly remember.'

‘You don't remember much, do you, Charlie? I wonder why you don't want to help us?'

‘I want to help you all right. Anything I remember. But I can't tell you what I don't know, can I?'

‘No. But you can tell us what you
do
know. Unless you're afraid of Mrs Murrain.'

‘Her?
I'm not afraid of her. She can't do anything to me, though I dare say she'd like to. You have to believe in it for her to do anything to you.'

‘Believe in what?'

‘All of it. I don't believe she can wish anything on you. Not after what Mr Stainer's taught us.'

‘Do you think that shot was fired at her?'

The unexpectedness of this took Charlie off his guard.

‘At her?'
he gasped. ‘Trying to kill her, you mean?' He recovered himself. ‘Whatever makes you think that?' Then, gaining courage with what was evidently a new idea, he added, ‘Might have been, of course. How is anyone to tell? There's plenty would like to see her out of the way, that's certain.'

‘But not the one who fired that shot?'

Carolus nearly had him there.

‘Him?' There was a promising pause before the old manner returned. ‘Shouldn't think so. Whoever it was. Ten to one he was after the foxes.'

‘On the roof? And why do you say “him”? Women can fire guns.'

‘So they can. I just said him in a manner of speaking.'

He stood up, this time with obvious determination to reach the door and go. Carolus did not try to detain him further.

When Carolus was alone with John he said, ‘How would you like to be prosecuting counsel with that as a witness for the defence?'