The Seven Stars (19 page)

‘
And you have no idea what Nicholas Warren did with the spoils?’

‘
Not a clue, though if it’s any help, I’m damn sure the substantial payments didn’t come out of his pocket.’

The fresh coffee arrived and they drank it in silence.
‘Warren’s brother-in-law writes horoscopes for the
Evening
News
, doesn’t he?’ Ledbetter said then.

Hardy raised a quizzical eyebrow.
‘Does he? Good Lord!’

‘
You didn’t know that?’

‘
No; any reason why I should?’

Ledbetter did not reply. Hardy had nothing to gain from lying at this stage
, and Mrs Campbell said they were sensitive about the column. It was possible they didn’t mention the connection, even to friends.

So although the Seven Stars was up to its neck in all this
, no direct connection had yet been made with the horoscopes, which were what had roused Mrs Campbell’s suspicions in the first place. Perhaps he’d know more when he had Steve Pembury’s report.

He looked at Hardy.
‘Anything you’d like to add to your statement?’

‘
Come, come, Inspector; you’ve already got jam on it!’

Ledbetter couldn
’t help smiling. In other circumstances, this was a man he could have admired.

‘
In that case, interview terminated at three-twenty.’ He switched off the tape. ‘Your statement will be typed in the morning. I’ll see you then.’

They waited till Hardy had been led away to the cells.
‘Right, home, James, and don’t spare the horses. The guest-room bed’s made up, and knowing Janet, she’ll probably insist on cooking us bacon and eggs before we crash out.’

‘
Sounds great,’ Webb said, getting stiffly to his feet. ‘My round of sandwiches at eight-thirty seems a long time ago.’

Together they went out into the cold
, starlit night.

*

Some seven hours later, five police cars drew up outside the Seven Stars. Ledbetter and Hopkins approached the door, the other officers remaining in the vehicles.

Their ring was answered by a tall
, red-haired woman. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’ she demanded, before they could speak.

‘
SB CID, ma’am. Detective Inspector Ledbetter and DS Hopkins. And you are —?’

‘
Stella Cain.’

‘
We’d like a word with you all.’

Stella
’s eyes went past him to the vehicles lined up on the gravel. ‘Five cars? But what —’

‘
The others are in, I hope?’ Ledbetter interrupted.

‘
Yes,’ Stella admitted hesitantly, and after a moment held the door open for them to enter. ‘My sister and brother-in-law are in their apartment.’ She gestured towards one of the wings which extended on either side of the front door.

‘
Perhaps you’d tell them we’re here.’ Though, Ledbetter thought, they could scarcely have failed to notice their arrival. Sure enough, at Mrs Cain’s knock, the door to the wing opened immediately and a tall, grey-haired man came out, closely followed by his wife.

‘
Nicholas Warren?’

‘
Who wants to know?’

‘
Inspector Ledbetter, Steeple Bayliss CID. And you, ma’am: could I have your full name?’

She stared at him with unflinching dark eyes.
‘Katherine Warren.’

‘
Nicholas and Katherine Warren, I’m arresting you on suspicion of conspiracy to burgle and handling stolen goods. You’re not obliged to say anything, but anything you do say may be taken down and used in evidence. Do you understand?’

The man looked stunned. His wife
, clutching his arm, stood immobile.

‘
Do you both understand?’ Ledbetter repeated.

They nodded.

‘You’ll be taken separately to the station for questioning.’ He nodded to Hopkins, who opened the front door and signalled to his colleagues.

As the Warrens were escorted out of the house
, Ledbetter turned to Mrs Cain, still standing like a mesmerised rabbit in the middle of the hall. ‘Now, ma’am, where’s your husband?’

‘
In his study,’ she answered mechanically.

He gestured to her to lead the way and they walked in silence through the large kitchen
, where preparations for the evening meal had been interrupted by their arrival, out of the back door and across the courtyard to the mews buildings. Mrs Cain pushed open a door and called up the stairs, ‘Gordon! Can you come down?’

There was the sound of a chair being pushed back and Cain appeared at the top of the stairs
, stopping short as he saw the detectives. Slowly, resignedly, he came down, to be arrested with his wife on the same charges as the others.

As they walked back to the house
, Stella said anxiously, ‘Will we be back this afternoon? We have guests, who’ll be expecting a meal.’

‘
Arrangements will be made,’ Ledbetter answered enigmatically. ‘In the meantime, I have a warrant to search the premises.’

‘
Now look here —’ Cain burst out angrily, then broke off with a helpless shrug of his shoulders. Two officers were waiting in the hall to accompany them, also in separate cars, back to the station.

‘
And now,’ Ledbetter said with satisfaction, ‘they can all kick their heels while we see what we can find here. Tell the rest of the lads to come in, Happy.’

*

At Melbray the Old Masters lecture was in full swing, amply illustrated by colourful slides. It should have been one of the highlights of the week, but Helen was finding it hard to concentrate.

Had the police found what they were looking for last night? Was Dominic really involved with the Stately Homes break-ins? If so
, was it her conversation with Inspector Ledbetter that had led them to him? And how would Andrew react at her involvement in what he’d regarded as his private investigation?

And Michael. Time and again she went over what had been said in his room. If things didn
’t work out with Andrew, would she contact him? Did she
want
things to work out, or, having made this tentative break, would she prefer to extend it indefinitely?

To none of these questions had she any answers
, but the weight of them was bringing on a migraine. She gritted her teeth. She’d paid for this course, and it was laying the foundation of her future. She couldn’t afford to allow personal worries to affect her concentration.

But the worries intruded again at lunch-time
, when, told someone was waiting to see her, she found a young woman in the foyer.

‘
Mrs Campbell? I’m WDC Birch. Mr Ledbetter asked me to tell you that the two couples from the Seven Stars are at the station, and though they’re likely to be released later, he thought you might be uncomfortable staying on there.’

Helen swallowed.
‘You mean he told them I — ?’

‘
No, no, but apparently you’d shown some interest in horoscopes, and when the subject was brought up, Mrs Warren immediately assumed you were involved. It seems they knew of your visit to the station.’

Suspicious Kate
, and Terry, with his prying eyes. Well, if she was to be a — grass, was that the word? — she might as well go all the way.

‘
I mentioned Mr Pike, one of the lodgers, to the inspector. I think he might be worth talking to as well.’

‘
I’ll see he gets the message. In the meantime, if you would like to move, I can run you back to the Seven Stars and help you pack up your things before they get back. There are several good B & B places in town — I’m sure you’ll have no difficulty finding one.’

*

Webb had returned to Shillingham that morning to write up a report on a case he’d been dealing with. By mid-afternoon he’d finished it, and, curious to know how things were progressing, he phoned Ledbetter.

‘
Dave — I was just about to ring you. We’ve had quite a profitable day, one way or another. Know what we found in a safe at the Seven Stars? One Nymphenberg shepherdess.’

‘
That’s all?’ He’d been expecting an Aladdin’s cave.

‘
Afraid so, everything else has been passed on.’

‘
And the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question is,’ Webb said, ‘to whom?’

‘
Yes, but unfortunately we don’t have the sixty-four-thousand-dollar answer. Look, it’s too involved to go into on the phone. Can you get over here?’

‘
Should think so. I’ve been on to Regional Crime, by the way and put them in the picture. Shall I bring Brian Rigby along?’

‘
Sure. You can both listen to the tapes if you like.’

‘
Are the Seven Stars lot still with you?’

‘
No, released on bail. There’s not much against the women, anyway, other than benefiting from the proceeds of crime. They haven’t been charged.’

‘
Fair enough. See you in about an hour, then.’

*

Helen had asked at the desk for a copy of the accommodations list before leaving Melbray. There were three or four addresses in Steeple Bayliss; she picked one at random and rang to ask if they’d a free room, explaining she would need it for four nights. They had, and directions were given how to get there.

Now
, feeling lonely and bereft, she stood in the middle of it and looked about her. It had nothing like the atmosphere of the poppy-and-cream bedroom at the Seven Stars, being small and dark, with a single, high window looking out on to a brick wall.

Still
, she told herself, she would be spared the smouldering atmosphere and suspicious glances.

She
’d left a cheque at the guesthouse covering the full fortnight, together with a brief note saying she was moving to be closer to her daughter. They’d know, of course, that was not the reason for her flight; doubtless it would cause sardonic amusement.

And Michael
... She drew in her breath sharply, realising for the first time that he might take her precipitate departure as a direct result of their conversation last night.

She stood stricken
, hands clasped in front of her. What could she do? Certainly not phone him at the Seven Stars, and she didn’t know where he worked. Oh, why hadn’t she thought to slip a note under his door? Though under the eyes of the efficient young policewoman, that might have been difficult.

It was the horoscopes that had brought her to this
, she reflected; if she’d confined herself to handing over the button, Dominic would have been arrested (as the policewoman told her he had been) and no one would have connected her with the betrayal. But as soon as Ledbetter had mentioned horoscopes — and he must have placed more importance on them than she’d realised — Kate would have known she was behind it.

So here she was
, displaced and alone and desperately in need of someone to talk to. But it was only two days since she’d seen Pen, and she mustn’t keep making demands on her time. She was still telling herself this as she went down to the public call-box and dialled the halls of residence.

‘
Just to let you know I’ve changed my phone number,’ she said brightly, when her daughter came on the line. ‘In case you wanted to fix that meal.’

‘
What do you mean, you’ve —?’ Penelope broke off and her voice sharpened. ‘Have you left the Seven Stars?’

‘
Yes,’ Helen admitted, keeping an eye on the half-closed door to the kitchen, from which a somewhat unappetising smell of supper was emerging.

‘
But why? Did they throw you out?’

‘
Certainly not! I’ll explain when I see you.’

‘
Mum, you can’t leave it at that! Did you go on poking your nose in and get their backs up? What
happened
? And where are you now?’

‘
At a B & B in town, on one of the roads overlooking the river.’ She hesitated, but loneliness overcame her resolve not to make demands. ‘Could you possibly slip out for an hour?’

‘
Of course I could. Shall we meet at the Barley Mow? It shouldn’t be far from you, and I can bike down.’

‘
That would be lovely,’ Helen said gratefully. ‘Seven-thirty?’ She’d been informed that ‘tea’ was served at six, and the evening had stretched interminably ahead. There would be no interesting conversation over the dining-table here.

‘
I’ll be there,’ Penelope said.

14

Brian Rigby was a small
, sharp-featured man, with a penchant for telling old jokes. Webb, who liked him well enough, was nevertheless relieved when they drew up in front of Maybury Street police station and he was spared having to force any more laughs.

It was five o
’clock, the rush-hour traffic was under way, and he wondered how it would feel to know exactly what time you’d be home each evening. Boring, he decided, pushing his way through the swing doors. It did not seem all that long since he’d arrived here in the early hours with Dominic Hardy. Now the case had moved forward again, though it seemed their principal quarry still eluded them.

‘
So what had they all to say for themselves?’ Webb asked Ledbetter, when they were seated in his office.

‘
I saw Warren first. Once he realised the game was up, he confirmed Hardy’s story of the stolen brooch. The circumstances of its recovery became quite a legend, and eventually reached the ears of the man he refers to as Q.’

‘
Why Q?’ Webb asked.

‘
It stands for “Query”, since Warren didn’t know his name. And,’ Ledbetter ended flatly, ‘I regret to say, still doesn’t.’

Webb slammed his hand on the arm of the chair.
‘You’re not telling me that even now we don’t know who’s behind it?’

‘
That’s exactly what I’m telling you,’ Ledbetter said grimly. ‘Anyway, to continue. After he came back from South Africa, Warren had a phone call. The caller said he’d learned of his feat in retrieving the brooch and wondered if he’d like to put his expertise to further use. Warren explained he hadn’t recovered it himself, but agreed to contact his colleague.

‘
And that was the start of it. Once Hardy agreed to come in, the operation took shape, but the damnable thing is that after all this time, Q is still an enigma and Warren has no way of contacting him.

‘
He’s the sole instigator. Warren receives a phone-call — always on a Wednesday evening at eight o’clock — and is told what item is desired. Sometimes Q doesn’t even know where it is — he might just have read about it, or seen it illustrated in a magazine.

‘
Those, believe it or not, are the cases Warren enjoys most. Strategy and planning are his forte and he admits he was finding life dull back in this country. There’s never any time-limit imposed, and sometimes he plans several “easier” thefts while working on what he regards as a challenging, long-term one. Once, he said, it took him a full year to discover who owned a certain vase and where it was, and then work out the means of acquiring it. Honestly, Dave, to hear him talk, you’d think he was businessman of the year!

‘
Once Hardy has stolen the item and delivered it to the Seven Stars, a line is inserted in the horoscope column of the
Evening
News
under “Tomorrow’s Birthday”.’

‘
What is this about a horoscope column?’ Webb interrupted. ‘The first time I heard of it was when you mentioned it to Hardy last night.’

Ledbetter explained about Helen Campbell
’s visit. ‘If there’s any reward going for nailing this gang, she’s the one who should get it,’ he ended. ‘She spotted the repetitions in the column and she found the lost button at Beckworth. She deserves a gold medal. What puzzled her was why the two parties didn’t simply phone each other, but we now have the answer. Warren couldn’t contact Q, because he didn’t know who he was. The column was the ideal point of contact.

‘
Q, who obviously lives within the circulation area of the
Evening
News
, reads “Tomorrow’s Birthday” every day, and when the agreed code appears, phones the following Wednesday with instructions where to take the goods. It’s always a postal sorting office, using the poste restante facility, and always a busy one, where staff aren’t likely to remember one particular transaction.

‘
What surprised me is that Warren didn’t express any curiosity about the bloke behind it all. He was happy just to be utilising his strategic skills and being handsomely paid for so doing.’

‘
What about the payout?’ Rigby asked. ‘How is it received?’

‘
By registered post, in wads of fifty-pound notes. It’s incredible really, the web of secrecy they maintained: Q knows Warren’s identity, but not that of Hardy or Budd.

Warren knows Hardy and Budd but not Q; and Hardy and Budd know of Warren
’s involvement, but not Q’s. They didn’t even know about the horoscope column, as we discovered last night. So Warren’s the kingpin round which it all revolves, the only one known to both sides.’

‘
What was Cain’s part in all this?’

‘
Minimal. He saw to the horoscopes, of course, and took a small — I gather very small — share in the payout. He also delivered the goods; once the object was in their hands, Warren seemed to lose interest. Incidentally, I had one of my DCs go through the column for the last two years and note the dates when this cryptic message was inserted. In every case it was less than a week after a country house break-in.’

Webb moved impatiently.
‘But what happens now, if there’s no way of contacting the bugger?’

‘
Ah, but there is! At least, I hope so. As we know to our cost, there was a robbery at Buckhurst last Thursday, and even after the business with Lord Cleverley, the stolen ornament was delivered to the Seven Stars as usual. Furthermore, one of the agreed phrases appeared in last night’s column.’

There was a short silence. Then Webb said
, ‘So if all goes according to plan, our mystery man should phone at eight tomorrow evening?’

‘
Exactly. The one fear is that Lord Cleverley’s death might have frightened him off, and since the figurine isn’t valuable anyway, he could decide not to claim it. In fact, with a murder hunt in progress, he might well think the game isn’t worth the candle, resolve to be content with what he has, and retire from the scene completely. In which case we’ll never catch up with him.’

‘
Don’t even imagine it!’ Rigby said vehemently.

‘
We can but hope. We’ve arranged to insert a bugging device in the phone at the guesthouse and with luck the message will come through as usual.’

‘
Warren will cooperate?’

‘
He hasn’t much option. Our lads will be in a van outside, listening in. The phone-calls are always brief, just the address of the sorting office and the day the parcel has to be delivered.’

‘
What kind of voice has he got, this Q? Any clues there?’

‘
He speaks in a whisper — impossible to identify and no discernible accent. So there we have it. Would you like to hear the tapes?’

Webb shook his head and got to his feet.
‘You’ve told me all I need to know. Best of luck with the phone-call. You’ll keep us advised?’

‘
Of course.’ Ledbetter stood up. ‘I’ll come down with you; there’s nothing more I can do this evening, so I’m off home. Last night’s lack of sleep is catching up with me.’

‘
Me too,’ Webb agreed.

They went through the swing doors to discover it was raining.

‘At least there’s no evidence it can wash away now,’ Led-better commented and, raising his hand in a salute, he went on his way.

*

Helen lay in the narrow, unfamiliar bed, thinking over the evening. In the bar at the Barley Mow, with the rain rattling against the porthole beside them, she and Pen had had the frankest conversation of their lives.

It started
, of course, with an account of Helen’s visit to the police and the dramatic events that resulted from it.

‘
So you were right after all, Miss Marple. Well done you!’

‘
Up to a point, but I was quite wrong about the hit-and-run — it was an accident after all. And a particularly sad one.’ Her face clouded.

‘
Poor Molly; I learned today why she went running out like that — the inspector asked the policewoman to tell me. It seems she’d overheard them saying some money was missing and wondering if she’d pinched it. The awful thing was that they’d simply miscalculated and discovered the mistake later. Nicholas told the inspector that his main regret in the whole affair was that Molly had died thinking she was under suspicion.’

Gradually
, as the evening passed, their talk had become more personal. Helen had been startled to discover how much Penelope, and by definition Thomas also, had known of the tensions between their parents, which she thought she’d successfully concealed; surprised, also, by the maturity her daughter showed in discussing them.

‘
We felt so helpless,’ she said, ‘watching you both rub each other raw and not being able to do anything. We’ve been expecting for years to hear you were separating.’

‘
How would you feel if we did?’ Helen asked in a low voice.

‘
Sad, of course, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world. We love you both and would keep in touch, so don’t stay together simply for our sake. It’s much more important to sort out your lives and do what’s best for you.’ Penelope reached for her hand. ‘You saw that woman on Sunday, didn’t you?’

Helen nodded.

‘I — think I’ve seen her before.’

Helen looked up sharply.
‘Where?’

‘
I’ve been trying to remember.’

‘
With Daddy, you mean?’

‘
Not exactly with him, but on the fringes. Like Sunday.’

‘
She must be adept at dodging round corners,’ Helen said bitterly.

‘
What about Michael Saxton, Mum? You do like him, don’t you?’

‘
I like him, but I don’t suppose I’ll ever see him again.’

‘
Would you mind if you didn’t?’

Helen said lightly
, ‘I’d be sorry, but after all we’ve only known each other ten days.’

‘
What difference does that make? You know something? You were more relaxed with him that I’ve seen you in years.’

‘
Only because he’s an outsider and I didn’t have to keep up pretences.’

Penelope laughed.
‘Have it your own way. Anyway, it’s great that you’re thinking of going back to work full time. After being a wife and mother all these years, you’ll be a person in your own right again. And take Sir Clifford up on his offer of help, too. A personal contact like that is worth something.’

Yes
, she’d do that, Helen thought, pulling the pillow into the hollow of her neck. These two weeks had been more traumatic than she’d ever anticipated, but at least she’d established contact with Sir Clifford, which should stand her in good stead. She reached up and switched off the light.

*

Terry Pike settled himself in a chair opposite Ledbetter and commented, ‘I suppose I owe this pleasure to Helen Snoopy Campbell?’

‘
We’re interviewing everyone at the Seven Stars, sir,’ Ledbetter said smoothly. ‘I understand you’ve been lodging there for some time?’

‘
A couple of months, but I doubt if it’ll be for much longer.’

‘
Oh?’

‘
My business should be wrapped up shortly.’

‘
And what is your business, Mr Pike?’

Pike met and held his eye.
‘I’m a private investigator.’ Ledbetter raised an eyebrow. ‘Engaged by whom?’

‘
An insurance company anxious to end the Stately Home break-ins before it goes out of business.’

Ledbetter considered that for a moment.
‘I believe you live in the north of England?’

‘
I do, thank God.’

‘
I’m just wondering why, since the burglaries have taken place all over the country, you couldn’t have operated equally well from there?’

Pike tapped the side of his nose significantly.
‘I had a lead which brought me down here, Inspector.’

‘
And what was that?’

‘
A tip-off to keep an eye on Nicholas Warren. I couldn’t believe my luck when I found out he ran a guesthouse.’

‘
It would have been a courtesy to have contacted us.’

‘
Given time I would have, when I’d something concrete to go on. And I was getting there.’

‘
What was the tip-off ?’

‘
Only that he’d been seen in the vicinity of a couple of houses that were later robbed. All very vague, but my clients were desperate enough to follow up anything. They’re only a small company, and this is stretching them to breaking point.’

He paused.
‘Then Helen Campbell arrives out of the blue and announces to all and sundry that her husband’s a loss adjuster. I could cheerfully have strangled her. All my softly-softly work gone for a burton. They were going to be very much on their guard after
that
piece of information.’