The Affair of the Bloodstained Egg Cosy (22 page)

'Maybe not then,' Deveraux said, and his voice was dangerously soft, 'but I wonder why you've kept quiet until now. More than anybody, you had a good excuse for being there: you knew Batchev to be a ruthless spy, who had killed your superior and friend, who had kidnapped Anna, and who was attempting to obtain secret information endangering the safety of your country. It would be quite reasonable for you to have been in his room - perhaps looking for incriminating evidence. The fact that his men were holding your sister would protect you from suspicion of murdering him yourself, wouldn't it?'

'Yes, but—'

'But for the fact that they are not holding your sister at all - because you are not Nicholas Felman. Is that what you were going to say?'

For seconds the man they'd known as Felman didn't move a muscle. Then: 'You're right,' he said. 'I'm not Felman. I'm Martin Adler.'

* * *

'Yesterday morning,' the real Martin Adler said, 'I told you how Martin Adler was killed on the Orient Express by Batchev and his men. That story was true in every particular but one: it was really Nick Felman who died - though Batchev believed he had killed me.

'The idea originally came from our security service back home. There was a fear that an attempt would be made to stop me reaching this country. The Grand Duke and his advisers seemed to think that my presence here was vital to the success of these talks. So it was suggested that Nick and I switch identities for the trip. Special passports were issued to us. Everybody - including Nick - thought it was a good idea. Except me, that is: I agreed to go along with it just to keep them all happy, but only because I didn't for one moment believe there was any real danger. If I had, I wouldn't have let Nick face it instead of me. As it turned out, they were right and I was wrong. Batchev and his men killed Nick, believing they were killing Martin Adler. I was forced to come along here and watch Batchev masquerade as me, and at the same time masquerade as Nick Felman myself. It was a most wearing - and very weird - experience. Every time anybody here asked me a question about my past life, I had to answer as though I were Nick.'

He looked at Lady Burford. 'For instance, I've never been to Stockholm, yet I had to answer as though I were Nick, who had. I'm sure I slipped up. I know Batchev did. He was supposed always to answer as me, and he'd obviously researched my life, but several times I heard him talking about places I'd never been. Naturally, to Batchev that wouldn't matter: the real Adler was unknown here and, he believed, dead anyway. The negotiations were a nightmare. I was scared all the time that Mr. Saunders here would give Batchev the dope he wanted. I knew that as soon as that happened he'd vamoose - probably trying to kill me first, so I couldn't expose him. Worse than that, once she was no longer needed as hostage, I could see no reason for them not to kill Anna Felman. However, luckily, Saunders, you held out. The ironic thing was that while Batchev simply didn't have the information you wanted, and so had to stall you, I did have it. It's all in my head. But he'd been told - correctly - that only Adler, not Felman, had this knowledge, so, believing I was Felman, it never occurred to him to ask me.'

Richard said: 'But why did you keep the pretence up so long?'

'Because,' Deveraux said, 'he knew that Felman was in the clear: that as soon as we confirmed Anna's kidnapping, we'd no longer consider him a serious murder suspect. As Martin Adler, on the other hand, he can offer no reason at all why he shouldn't have killed Batchev.'

'Look, for the love of Mike,' Adler said, 'don't you think Anna Felman's safety is important to me? I know the kid - I'm very fond of her. I wasn't going to put her life in danger. I agree I kept quiet for just the very reason you said: I knew I wasn't guilty and I didn't want you wasting time trying to pin the murders on me, and letting the real killer get away. But you don't imagine I thought I could keep it up for more than a couple of days, do you? And I didn't attempt to deceive the Duke on the telephone. I told him what had really happened and what I intended to do. I asked him not to announce Felman's death for the time being - and in the event that a request from the British police for photos of Adler or Felman was received either there or at our London embassy, to ensure that my picture was sent for his and his for mine. In fact, I'm not sure yet how you discovered the truth.'

Deveraux said: 'Wilkins simply asked Scotland Yard to get a photo of Martin Adler from the London office of your country's leading newspaper.'

Adler shrugged. 'Well, I couldn't think of everything.'

'What were you doing in Batchev's room that night?' Deveraux asked.

'Like you said, I was hoping to get some dirt on him -something that would give me a lever to use against him, or perhaps some clue as to where Anna was being held. It was a forlorn sort of hope, but I felt I had to take any chance, however slight. And I guess I've got to own up to something. It's due to me Fotheringay got drugged.'

'What do you mean?'

'I slipped a sleeping-draught in Batchev's coffee that night, so as I'd be able to search his room without waking him. Somehow Fotheringay must have got it instead.'

Gerry gave an eager nod. 'Yes, Batchev suddenly changed his mind after the cup was passed to him, and said he'd have black instead. So Algy took his cup.'

'Perhaps he spotted me lacing it,' Adler said, 'though I don't see how he could have. Nor why it made Fotheringay sleep for so long. Anyway' - he looked towards Algy - 'I'm sorry, buddy. I wouldn't have had it happen.'

But there was no reply. Algy's head had dropped and his eyes were closed. Gerry leaned over and gave him a poke. He jerked awake and smiled vaguely round.

Deveraux said: 'What happened in Batchev's room?'

'Search me. I left my own room at exactly two-seventeen. I imagined Batchev would be well away by then. I opened his door very quietly and slipped in. I was just going to switch on my torch when I heard a board creak on the far side of the room. I thought Batchev was lying in wait for me. I couldn't understand it when he didn't switch the light on or challenge me. I didn't want to make the first move myself. So I just stood there in the dark, waiting, for over ten minutes. Then I heard two-thirty strike. I couldn't stay there for ever so I started to creep towards the door. The next thing I knew someone had barged into me in the dark. He tried to jump away from me. I figured he was going to put the light on and that idea didn't appeal to me, so I hung on to him. We fairly waltzed around the room, knocking things over right, left and centre. We rolled clear across the bed and he got free of me. He blundered towards the door, but he didn't switch the light on, just ran out. That surprised me, but I wasn't intending to hang around and meditate on the phenomenon. So I hightailed it out of there at top speed. There seemed to be all sorts of things going on around me in the dark, but I was only concerned with making sure Batchev didn't find out just then that I'd been disobeying orders. I thought it was vital that he carried on thinking he'd got me under his thumb. So I started feeling my way back to my room. Lady Geraldine knows too well what happened next. Fortunately, I'd noticed the cupboard and the chair every time I'd gone to my room, and was able to find them in the dark. Then I hurried on and got into bed pronto. Somebody - you, I guess' - he nodded towards Deveraux - 'came into the room and looked at me a few minutes later, but I just lay doggo and you went away.'

Deveraux said: 'I thought from the first you were the most likely one to have locked up Lady Geraldine, and it occurred to me I might just catch you out of bed.'

'No chance. I stayed there until you came back again later and told me Batchev was missing.'

'Well,' said Deveraux, 'that's another mystery at least partially cleared up. Let's now pass on to the next: the theft of Mrs. Peabody's necklace.'

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Arrest

'We've proved beyond doubt,' Deveraux said, 'that a notorious international jewel thief known by the sobriquet of the Wraith was in this house after the burglar alarm was switched on, on Saturday night, and that Mrs. Peabody's necklace was removed from its box during the same night. But was it the Wraith who escaped through the breakfast room window, setting off the alarm in the process; or did he simply take advantage of Batchev having set off the alarm to escape quietly himself another way?

'Now, the more I thought about it, the more I found it impossible to believe that a professional thief such as the Wraith would not have known of Alderley's alarm system, or knowing of it, would have chosen to commit the robbery at a time when he would have to set off that alarm in order to escape. It was just inconceivable. You might say that he could not resist the challenge laid down in the magazine. Which, frankly, is nonsense. The Wraith is, above all, a professional. He's not going to risk his freedom and depart from the methods which have stood him in such good stead for so long in order to answer the challenge of some footling magazine. In addition, there is a further difficulty. Mr. and Mrs. Peabody's evidence shows that one or the other of them was awake and in the bedroom until Mr. Peabody left to go to the gun room a little after two-twenty-five. There was then a space of about three minutes during which their rooms were empty. Mrs. Peabody met somebody she supposed was the Wraith on the stairs just after two-thirty, and this would tie up with the necklace having been taken during those three minutes. But nobody could have known that the rooms were going to be empty at just that time. Are we to assume that the Wraith happened to enter the Peabodys' suite at precisely that moment, purely by chance? Or that he was waiting, say in one of the rooms across the corridor, on the off-chance that Mr. and Mrs. Peabody would at some time during the night both leave the room? Each of these alternatives seems equally unlikely.

'At one stage, I must confess, I did seriously suspect Mr. Peabody himself of having faked the theft. But that theory was soon abandoned. For one thing, enquiries in the United States have indicated that his financial position is as sound as a bell, and secondly there is the evidence of the Wraith's calling card. So the question remained: why should the Wraith have behaved in this incredibly reckless way, leaving so much to chance and only avoiding capture through sheer luck? It was an act of insanity.'

Deveraux paused and Gerry spoke. 'It worked though, didn't it?'

'Precisely, Lady Geraldine. It worked. Improbably, the Wraith got away with the necklace. Or was that merely what we were meant to think? For suppose he hadn't got away at all? Suppose he was still in the house?'

Lord Burford looked puzzled. 'You mean hidin' somewhere?'

'No, Lord Burford. We never seriously suspected that, though Inspector Wilkins' men did in fact make quite sure he wasn't. No - I mean still living in the house openly.'

The Countess interjected. 'I trust you're not suggesting that one of the servants—'

'No, no, Lady Burford. They are all cleared. They've all been with you far too long. No - I mean here as one of the guests. Suppose the Wraith had come to Alderley hoping to steal the necklace? Suppose he had then faced the obstacle of a foolproof burglar alarm which would prevent him leaving with the necklace, and so would immediately throw suspicion on to one of the guests when the theft was discovered? Suppose he had just been biding his time, hoping to find a way round this obstacle, when he had been woken in the early hours of the morning and told the alarm had gone off and that a mysterious man had escaped from the house? In those circumstances, there'd be one obvious course: to go straight to Mrs. Peabody's room and steal the necklace there and then -knowing that the Wraith would almost certainly be thought to be the man who went through the window.'

Deveraux swung round. 'And you did it actually after alerting us all to the possibility that the necklace had been stolen - isn't that right, Mr. Evans?'

For long seconds Evans didn't move or speak. Then he slowly removed his spectacles and rubbed his eyes. 'That's right,' he said. 'I took it - just about five seconds before I woke you, H. S.' He chuckled. 'It was in my pocket all the time. Then when I was searching the east wing with Lord Burford I slipped it inside a vase in one of the lumber rooms on the top floor.'

'Is it - is it still there?' Carrie Peabody asked breathlessly.

'No, Mrs. P. I buried it near the lake yesterday. I'd been intending to come back and dig it up on one of the open days later on, when the heat was off. I shall be pleased to point out the precise spot to Wilkins' rozzers on my way out.' He looked over his shoulder. 'Are you still there, Inspector?'

'I'm here, Mr. Evans,' came Wilkins' voice from the corner.

'Well, I hope you're noticing how cooperative I'm being: admitting my guilt, making no show of resistance, giving the exact location of the stolen property. What with it being a first offence, and my having yielded to sudden temptation, I think I might get off with a couple of years in jug, don't you?'

'First offence! Sudden temptation!' Wilkins gave a snort. 'The Wraith's been operating for years.'

'What makes you think I'm the Wraith?' Evans sounded quite indignant. 'You'll never prove that.'

'What about the visiting-card?' Deveraux asked quietly.

'I've no intention of revealing my defence at this stage, old boy, but take it from me that I've got a perfectly good explanation for having it. It was my chance possession of that card which first tempted me into pretending to be the notorious Wraith.'

'Tell that to the judge,' Deveraux said. 'I fully intend to.'

Wilkins nodded to Leather, who opened the door. Two uniformed policemen came in. Leather spoke to them quietly.

Evans said: 'You want me to go with these gentlemen? Right-ho. The good secretary learns unquestioning obedience. Well, good bye, H. S. It's been a pleasure. Sorry it doesn't look as though I'm going to be able to work out my notice. Good bye, Mrs. P. Believe me, I really very much regretted robbing you. I seriously considered not stealing your necklace - until my worse self triumphed. Good bye, my lord, ladies and gentlemen. I'm sorry to leave you all at this stage. I've never been involved in a murder before and I was looking forward to learning who done it. Still, I suppose it'll be in the papers -which no doubt one can consult in the prison library.'