The Curious Incident at Claridge's (18 page)

30

The Great Escape

‘What did you give him?' Payne asked.

‘Something to shut him up. He was overexcited. He was talking too much. Showing off. It is bad for him to meet new people, really. His blood pressure tends to go up. He keeps waking up during the night, asking for things, which is a fucking nuisance. You look disappointed, Major Payne.' Madden smiled. ‘You don't really want to know what happened next, do you?'

‘As a matter of fact I do.'

‘She went to his room that night and they became lovers. Grandpa was an incredible lover. Casanova would have been jealous of his technique. Grandpa and Mrs Simpson went on meeting in secret after their respective returns to England. Their affair was unflaggingly intense and earth-shatteringly passionate, but when she married “David”, it all had to end. They kept in touch over the years. Corresponded. Spoke on the phone. In 1937 she ordered him to write a series of obscene poison pen letters to the Duchess of York and Queen Mary, which he did. When the war started in 1939, they were on Hitler's side. Grandpa managed to keep his allegiances secret and he worked his way to the very top of the medical profession. He got several important government jobs—'

‘Sorry to interrupt, but how does the ring come into all this exactly?'

‘Bored already?' Madden grinned. ‘And this is only the potted version! OK. Fast forward to 1946. The war is over. The Duchess of Windsor and “David” are languishing in the Bahamas. “David” is the Governor. She finds Nassau nauseating, the back of beyond, a pitiful place, the pits. She has started finding “David” dreary. She is in fact at her wits' end. She rants and raves against “David's” family. She is obsessed with not being an HRH. She brims over with bile. She mourns the German defeat. She chants
lamentoso
—the dirge of suicidal despair. The Nazi defeat and the capture of Ribbentrop in particular have sunk her in the deepest depression.'

‘Ah. The Nuremberg trials. Something happened in Nuremberg, correct?'

‘It did. Grandpa found himself part of the British team, which was dispatched to Germany to make sure interrogations and executions were properly conducted. Grandpa was appointed by no less a figure than Sir Dick White, the head of Counter-Intelligence in the British Zone of Germany. The Duchess was thrilled when Grandpa was then given “charge” of Ribbentrop, former German ambassador to Britain and Hitler's foreign minister. Ribbentrop, you will remember, had been declared a war criminal and sentenced to hang.'

Payne thought back to what he had read about Mrs Simpson's involvement with Ribbentrop. Prior to the war she was said to have acquired classified information via the King, which she then passed on to Ribbentrop, who paid her directly from German funds in Berlin. Hitler's aim seemed to have been to get the King interested in the Fascist cause.

‘How terribly curious … Two of the Duchess's former lovers brought together in the most extraordinary of circumstances … Perhaps the Duchess had something to do with it?'

‘Grandpa claims he managed to get close to Ribbentrop by buying gallons of vodka for one or two top-ranking Russian officials. That was what the Duchess had instructed him to do, yes. She had already placed a special “fund” at Grandpa's disposal.' Madden looked at Payne. ‘I must warn you Grandpa is not a particularly reliable narrator.'

‘What did the Duchess want him to do exactly?'

‘To help Ribbentrop escape from prison.'

‘You are not serious,' Payne said.

‘It does sound fantastic, I agree. The most awful rot. I don't believe any of it myself. There are actually several versions of this story, depending on what mood Grandpa happens to be in. I am going to stick to the most popular version, shall I?'

‘Please do.'

‘Grandpa notices that the prison padre, a Pastor Turgau, looks a bit like Ribbentrop and at once he hits upon the bold notion of substituting one for the other. The substitution is to take place on the morning of the execution. Pastor Turgau is a little thinner than Ribbentrop, he is also older, but Grandpa doesn't consider that a problem since everybody knows that people lose weight and age prematurely in prison, especially if they happen to be on death row, awaiting execution. Father Turgau's eyebrows are bushy, of the “caterpillar” variety, and he sports a mane of grey hair. Ribbentrop, on the other hand, is practically bald, with no eyebrows to speak of. But there are such things as artificial eyebrows and trimmers—'

‘How in heaven's name could Dr Fairchild have persuaded the pastor to shave his eyebrows and allow his head to be placed inside the hangman's noose? But perhaps persuasion doesn't come into it?'

‘It doesn't. The plan—code name, the Great Escape—is to have Pastor Turgau injected with a hallucinogenic, mind-altering drug. Grandpa insists it would have been one of the earliest uses of LSD. The idea was to reduce Turgau to a gibbering wreck moments before he was taken to the scaffolding. Now do not interrupt. Pastor Turgau has an established routine of visiting each one of the war criminals in their cells every morning. He prays for them, in some cases with them. He invariably starts by falling on his knees, shutting his eyes and bringing his hands together. When he goes into Ribbentrop's cell, he finds there not only the condemned man, but Grandpa as well. Ribbentrop is lying on his bunk—'

‘What about the soldiers guarding him?' Major Payne protested.

‘Untrustworthy Russian guards.' Madden waved his hand dismissively. ‘Highly corruptible. Would sell their mother and father for a glass of fiery water. There are two of them and they are only too willing to be bribed. Please do not interrupt, or I'll never be able to finish. I fucking hate this story. Dr Fairchild informs Pastor Turgau that Ribbentrop has been taken ill and he says he has just given him an injection. Indeed Dr F. is still holding the syringe in his hand. The poor padre suspects nothing. He has no means of knowing that the syringe is for him. The moment he kneels and shuts his eyes in prayer, the syringe is plunged into his neck.'

‘How perfectly simple and straightforward.' Payne stole a glance at his watch.

‘Once Pastor Turgau is incapacitated, the swap takes place. Cassock, wig, dog collar, caterpillar eyebrows and black cap for Ribbentrop. Turgau, on the other hand, is shorn of his mane and eyebrows and put into Ribbentrop's prison uniform. Then, jabbering incomprehensibly and gesticulating wildly, in the grip of what appears to be a hysterical fit, he is led to the hangman. Meanwhile Ribbentrop, in the guise of Turgau, leaves the prison building. A car is waiting for him outside. A false passport and a plane ticket are handed over to him. Then the usual destination. Brazil or Argentina. It is the Duchess's funds that make it all possible.'

‘And what exactly are the Duchess's motives? I refuse to accept it is love. A less lovable person than Ribbentrop, one could hardly imagine.'

‘Well, Grandpa thinks that was her way of cocking a snook at the Establishment. She never forgave Britain for her non-HRH status and her and the Duke's exile. She bore them a grudge to the end of her days. According to one version of the story, the Duke was part of the conspiracy. He knew of the scheme from the very moment of its inception and approved of it whole-heartedly.'

‘To imagine any such scheme could ever possibly have succeeded, one needs the mental equipment of the White Queen in
Alice
…'

‘Grandpa insists that it
would
have succeeded—if it hadn't been for the intervention of Sir John Tradescant.'

Payne nodded. ‘I'd started to wonder where exactly Sir Seymour's father came in.'

‘Sir Seymour's father was my grandfather's nemesis. A somewhat flamboyant figure notable for the tortured splendour of his moustache and the diamond stud in his tongue at a time when pierced tongues were not the commonplace they are today. As it happened, Sir John was also part of the diplomatic troupe that had arrived in Nuremberg. He and Grandpa were friends to start with, they played bezique together, but it all went wrong when Sir John took the wildest of fancies to the ring. Sir John, apparently, had a thing about jewellery, which amounted to an overpowering fetishistic obsession. Grandpa says Sir John coveted the ring with Gollum-like intensity.'

‘The Duchess of Windsor had already given the ring to your grandfather?
Before
the task had been accomplished?'

‘Yes. The chronology of the story's events is somewhat shaky, you have noticed. The Duchess had the ring delivered to Grandpa by a messenger. It was a token of her trust. The proper reward, she said, would follow. What that might be she never specified. Each time Grandpa tells the story, he changes some of the details. The crux of the matter is that Sir John Tradescant found out what Grandpa was preparing to do and used this knowledge to blackmail him. He demanded the Wallis ring in return for his silence.'

‘How did he find out what Dr Fairchild was preparing to do?'

‘Sir John had a queer womanish streak in him. He was the worst busybody who ever lived. Sir John contrived to eavesdrop on a telephone conversation between Grandpa and the Duchess. According to another version of the story, Sir John stole some of Grandpa's papers and read a letter written to him by the Duchess. Sometimes Grandpa says Sir John stole his diary, which contained all the details of the Great Escape.'

‘Sir John threatened Grandpa with exposure?'

‘Yes. He said he would bring the matter to the attention of the authorities unless Grandpa gave him the ring. Well, those were harsh times. Collaborators and fifth columnists got hanged at the drop of a hat, as I am sure you know. Showcase trials were all the rage. Lord Haw-Haw and so on. Grandpa says he had no other option but to play ball.'

‘What did Sir John do
after
he got the ring?'

‘He proceeded to demolish the Great Escape plan, that's what. He made sure the complicit Russian soldiers guarding Ribbentrop were replaced by incorruptible British ones and that there were four of them instead of two. He also informed Pastor Turgau that his services were no longer needed. Consequently, Ribbentrop's hanging took place exactly as scheduled.'

‘I believe Ribbentrop's hanging was badly botched? It took him at least five minutes to die? I read about it somewhere. He kept writhing and making terrible noises. All rather gruesome.'

‘Grandpa says that that was also Sir John Tradescant's doing. Sir John bribed the hangman to “botch” the hanging. He instructed him to prolong the end for as long as was possible. That was the kind of thing Sir John got a kick out of.'

Payne said, ‘It's a fascinating story. It might make a good film.'

Madden glanced across at Dr Fairchild who was sleeping with his mouth open. Madden's expression was hard to fathom.

There was a pause.

‘I say, old boy, I don't suppose you'd tell me if you saw anything of interest in Sir Seymour's room at the time you pinched the ring, would you?'

‘On the contrary, Major Payne. I have every intention of telling you. I did see something of interest. Let's go to my room,' Madden said. ‘I don't want us to interrupt Grandpa's beauty sleep.'

31

What the Steward Saw

Madden's room adjoined his grandfather's. It was very small, hardly larger than a cupboard. Everything in it was narrow. The bed was narrow. The bedside table was narrow. The chair was narrow. The table lamp was incredibly narrow. The Gothic window that overlooked the chapel was narrow. It felt like entering some modernist installation, Payne thought.

‘Don't you get a little claustrophobic here? No dreams of premature burials at night?'

Madden shrugged. ‘It's better than a prison cell.'

‘Have you been in a prison cell?'

‘Perhaps I have. What exactly would be the cause of death if one did get buried prematurely? Asphyxiation?'

‘You could be brain dead through oxygen starvation after only a few minutes,' said Payne.

His eyes fixed on the pile of books that lay on Madden's bedside table with some surprise. They were not the kind of books he would have associated with Madden, but then he had no idea what kind of books he would have associated with Madden. Madden was an enigma.

‘Do you like Charlotte Brontë, Madden?'

‘Not in the least. She was an unpleasant example of spinsterhood, a raving, craving maenad seeking self-immolation on the altar of her frustrated passions.' Madden waved towards the narrow chair. ‘Take a pew.'

‘What about Austen?'

‘Under the mask of an impartial observer, Aunt Jane was nothing but a prying, sub-acid busybody in everyone's flirtations.' Madden had perched on the edge of his bed.

‘One wonders what a clever fellow like you is doing in service.'

‘I am not really in service. Never been. I am here at Grandpa's behest.'

‘The Master tells me you were the last person to see Sir Seymour alive.'

‘That's not strictly true.'

‘Oh?' Payne looked at him.

‘I brought Sir Seymour his early morning tea. I drew his curtains. He asked me to run his bath, which I did. He then came up with a quotation.'

‘What kind of quotation?'

‘
Amat avidus amores miros, miros carpit flores.
I left the room soon after.'

‘But you returned for the ring?'

‘I did. Some quarter of an hour later I went back. The door to the bathroom was ajar. I thought I heard the sound of water splashing. I didn't think anything of it. I went straight to the bedside table, took the ring from the china dish and I put it into my pocket. When I looked towards the bathroom again, I saw someone standing beside the bath. The man was wearing an orange habit and he was looking down at something in the bath. I couldn't see the person's face. The person had the habit hood up, which at once struck me as unusual. I also caught a glimpse of the person's hands in black gloves. The gloves were dripping water.'

‘Sir Seymour's head was held under water till he drowned. He must have put up a bit of struggle, which would account for the splashing sound you heard … The killer didn't become aware of your presence?'

‘No.'

‘What did you do?'

‘I was standing beside the window. I quietly sneaked behind the window curtains. A good thing because the next moment the person came out of the bathroom. The front of the habit looked darker. It had been splashed with water.'

‘I see.'

This, Payne reflected, tallied with what Travis had told him earlier on. Travis too had seen the mysterious steward. Travis had thought that it was Madden.

‘The person quickly walked out of the room. I waited a couple of moments, then came out from behind the curtains and went to the bathroom. Sir Seymour was lying in his bath. His eyes were open. He was dead.'

‘You checked his pulse?'

‘I did. I checked his wrist and his neck. As Grandpa informed you, I have had medical training. I don't make mistakes about things like that. There was no pulse.'

‘You didn't raise the alarm?'

‘No. I had Sir Seymour's ring in my pocket. I feared I might get myself in trouble. So I left and went to Grandpa's room. I knew that Travis would discover Sir Seymour's body when he brought his breakfast to him at half-past eight. Which he did.'

There was a pause, then suddenly Major Payne laughed. ‘Sorry! It's just hit me that all along there was a witness to the murder!'

‘I didn't witness the act of murder per se.'

‘You saw the killer's face …'

For some inexplicable reason, Madden's expression changed and for a moment it looked as though he was going to be sick. His hand went up to his upper lip, then it covered his mouth.

‘What's the matter?' Payne asked, concerned.

‘Nothing.'

Payne looked at him curiously. There was a pause. ‘Would you recognize the person if you saw him again?'

‘I would. Actually, it's not a him. It is a her.'

‘Oh? A woman? You sure?'

Madden said slowly, ‘
I know who the killer is
.'

‘You do?'

‘It was Sir Seymour's sister. Miss Bettina Tradescant.'