‘Last December. Before Christmas.’

  ‘So you’d have been getting the letter soon.’

  ‘Yes. But who knows who’d grab it now Louella’s dead? The people dealing with the estate. Lawyers. Accountants. Tax inspectors, as like as not. Busybodies. Muckrakers. I don’t mean you, but one has one’s enemies. Even I.’

  ‘And you were trying to force the lock on the cottage door when I got there.’

  The collapsed, adipose Elderberry cut an unconvincing figure as a lock cracker. ‘Yes. With a credit card. Doesn’t work. Not for me anyway.’ He stifled a hiccup, wobbling his whole frame.

  ‘Perhaps it’s the wrong sort of lock. Look, finding the body would have been worse for you than me. You knew the chap quite well. There’s no chance you could have saved him.’ Treasure felt sorry for the dejected, fuddled figure. He was also inclined to believe the Malcolm story. ‘D’you want me to see if I can get that letter for you? I shan’t try to read it.’

  ‘Would you? How?’ Cp

  ‘Let’s say I’m a disinterested party with entry rights pending. I’ll have a shot.’ He figured from something the lawyer had said that Pitty probably knew about the letter. It would have been natural enough for Lady Brasset to have consulted her lawyer over the episode. It may even have been Pitty who had seen off the importunate Malcolm with such lasting effect.

  ‘I’d be so grateful. It was in a tin box. Bottom drawer of her bureau. Pink envelope, resealed and addressed to me.’ Elderberry had cheered up enormously.

  ‘By the way, how many times did you go out yesterday?’ Treasure asked suddenly and with great firmness.

  Elderberry looked up sharply. The brusqueness had put his expression back into mourning. ‘F … Friday? Why?’

  ‘Never mind why. Just indulge me, will you? How many times?’

  ‘I … I was working all day. I went next door to view a desirable typewriter after tea.’ He gave a thin smile. ‘Oh, and I came here for the meeting at seven. I was pursued each time. But positively pursued.’

  ‘Who by?’

  ‘That scamp Bobby. The one who accosted us. He was camped by my gate — whoops, there’s a Freudian. He was there all day.’

  ‘You mean Bobby followed you to the Round House …’

  ‘And back home. Then here later. Then he gave up for the day. Such a pesterer. I refused to talk to him — or let him in. He didn’t try to get into the hotel.’

  Treasure wasn’t interested in Elderberry’s movements after he had reached the Beachcomber. If anyone at that freeholders meeting had turned on the gas at the cottage he’d done it by seven. Treasure met all of them at the hotel bar later. They had stayed together since seven, and up to the time Mrs Daws had announced Lady Brasset’s death — after Elderberry’s prophetic outburst.

  According to Tracy, Elderberry had learned Louella was in London — and why — at five. If Bobby had been dogging him all day he could hardly have slipped out without being noticed. So whatever the reason for Elderberry’s visit to the cottage today, he hadn’t been there yesterday — and he had the vexatious Bobby as alibi. Could there be any doubt in the matter? Treasure thought not. He was still a long way from proving that murders had been done. If they had it was conceivable that more than one person had been involved. Somehow, though, he couldn’t see the loquacious Elderberry as partner in that sort of criminal conspiracy.

  The banker rose, picking up his jacket. ‘I’ll do what I can about the letter.’

  Elderberry struggled to his feet. ‘I should go. Can’t thank you enough. So sorry … about everything.’ He moved towards the door, then stopped. ‘You’ve no reason to think there’s something fishy about Louella’s death? That would mean Jacks was … well …’

  ‘No reason,’ Treasure lied, preferring that to volunteering grounds for litigation. ‘Have you?’

  ‘No. Good heavens no.’

  ‘When Mrs Daws came in to tell us there’d been an accident, I remember …’

  ‘I asked if Louella was dead? It just came over me, that’s all. Second sight. Get it from my mother. Can’t explain it.’ He hesitated as though he was going to try, thought better of it, and shuffled out.

  ‘My condolences about Eddy Jacks, squire.’

  ‘Thank you. I wasn’t related to him, Mr Daws,’ replied Treasure blandly from the customer side of the reception desk.

  Mrs Daws had scuttled into the rear office as the banker had come down the stairs. The two aged ladies were moving across the hall, this time in line ahead. They were making progress towards the residents’ lounge, though not very much. Both were in long dark woollen dresses: one had on a wilted fur cape, the other a grey shawl.

  ‘Oh, very dry, Mr Treasure. Excuse me a minute. Esta!’ Daws called over his shoulder to his wife through the open door behind him. ‘Tell Tracy, two medium Cyprus sherries in the residents’. No hurry,’ he added less loudly, eyeing the old biddies. ‘But the Misses Catchready-Taunton are working up terrible thirsts.’ He grimaced at Treasure. ‘Has to be Saturday. They don’t live it up on the other nights. Won’t sit in the bar, though. Don’t know what they’ll do in their next place. No proper lounge and two quid a day over what we charge for permanents. Don’t know they’re alive. Maybe they aren’t.’ The smile froze. ‘Sorry, squire, bad taste after your horrible experience.’

  ‘I’m not in to dinner, Mr Daws.’

  ‘Ah, so a little bird told me. Dining at a competitive gourmets’ delight in Arundel. You got a table in the end?’

  ‘Your wife was good enough to telephone. It’s been confirmed. They’re pretty busy.’

  ‘Saturday night. Same everywhere.’ Daws looked around the deserted hall. Even the Misses Catchready-Taunton had disappeared. ‘Norfolk Arms, where you’re going, great favourite of Lady Brasset’s. For lunch. She didn’t go out much in the evening, I understand.’ He shook his head. ‘Still hard to believe. Her death, I mean. Eddy Jacks, that was a shock too, of course, but always a risk, those power tools. To get blown up, though.’ He tutted several times. ‘Beats me with that gas on all day why nobody twigged it. Somebody must have called there since breakfast.’

  ‘Somebody who might have gone in the house, you mean?’

  ‘Or up to one of the doors.’

  ‘You think they’d have smelled the gas from outside?’

  ‘Could have. Bet I’d have niffed it.’ He tapped his nose with a nicotine-stained finger.

  ‘You weren’t there yourself?’

  ‘Me? Not me, squire. What reason would I have for calling on Lady Brasset?’

  ‘Weren’t you friends?’

  Daws forced a chuckle. ‘In a word, no. Acquaintances only. Friends, no. Bit of a snob, her Ladyship, and who could blame her? Mostyn Daws was not one of her intimates.’

  Treasure wondered if Eddy Jacks would have agreed. If so, the …

  ‘The lady wife, now, that’s different,’ Daws went on.

  ‘They had literature in common, you see. Members of the Tophaven Readers Guild.’ He glanced over Treasure’s shoulder. ‘Ah, the fleet’s in. ’Evening, Commander. Dining aboard?’

  Nigel Mane joined them at the desk. ‘Not this evening, Mostyn. Dropped in on the chance of seeing Mr Treasure.’ He smiled. ‘Care for a noggin in the bar?’

  ‘You’ll have to excuse me,’ said Daws, unnecessarily since he hadn’t been included in the invitation. ‘Saturday night. Don’t know whether we’re coming or going.’ He glanced about. ‘Early yet, of course.’

  ‘One large pink gin, one Scotch, free peanuts, and the barmaid’s available after eleven,’ said Tracy, bobbing prettily after putting the contents of her tray on the little table.

  Treasure and the Commander were seated in the corner furthest away from the dining-room. The bar was otherwise empty.

  ‘Are you sure that’s a small Scotch? I’m driving,’ said Treasure.

  Tracy gave a surreptitious look to both sides. ‘Don’t worry, guv, we waters all the drinks ’ere,’ she whispered, then added louder and without the Cockney accent, ‘If you want refills soon, help yourselves and put it on the slate. I’m taking adulterated sherry to the oldest surviving inhabitants. Always keep me chatting about how they were raped in the Indian Mutiny or on Mafeking Night, in Cheltenham or somewhere.’

  ‘You don’t say?’ countered Treasure. ‘And they told me they never leave Tophaven.’

  ‘So they’re after you, too?’ cried Tracy, wide-eyed. ‘Don’t you be taken in by those sweet-talking frails. They’re man-eaters. Both of ’em.’ She sidled up close to Treasure, advising — this time in broad Devonshire — ‘Take no chances, kind sir. Lock and bolt your door tonight. But not before I’m inside.’ She winked and left.

  ‘Glad I made her learn shorthand,’ said the Commander philosophically. ‘It’s a crowded profession. Acting I mean. Can’t all be successful like your wife.’ He pulled a pipe from his pocket. ‘Poor old Jacks. Terrible thing. Nasty shock finding him like that. Can’t imagine how he came to do such a bloody fool thing. You know he was twelve years in the Royal Navy? Able Seaman, so not one of your natural leaders. Even so, every trained sailor knows the importance of safety with machines. You’d die a thousand deaths at sea if you don’t observe the drills.’

  ‘He was worried,’ Treasure offered cautiously.

  ‘Mmm. That’s one of the things I wanted to talk about. Told me he’d unburdened on you.’

  ‘And you were the next stop.’

  ‘Used to it. You advised him to talk to someone he trusted.’

  ‘Or a lawyer.’

  ‘He wouldn’t have done that. Not first thing. Incidentally, I gave him the same advice, including the tip he should go to the two people he saw at the cottage.’

  ‘There was a third.’

  ‘Oh, as you know, that was me. Told Jacks as much. No secret. He didn’t see me. Only the car, which he might have recognized by the number as well as the make.’

  ‘Don’t suppose he was paying that much attention.’

  ‘Right. Just anxious no one should know he was there.’ The Commander blew down the empty pipe. ‘Often thought of becoming a jobbing gardener myself. Strictly cash. No tax. Help my pension no end. Nobody wants me for anything else. Should be a vacancy for a postman now, of course.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘Know what they’d say if I applied?’

  ‘Too old?’

  ‘Too experienced. Amounts to the same thing. Never mind. There’s hope yet. Chance of a part interest in a little boatyard up the coast. That’s once the Seawell money materializes.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Pretty important, that. Going to pay for Tracy at this acting place, too. Been sweating a bit since Louella’s meddling, I can tell you.’

  ‘Which is why you went to see her.’

  ‘Yes. Tracy said you wanted to know what time I was there. Understood the reason after Jacks came to see me. I’ve thought about it. Must have been a few minutes after five. Tracy told me what Louella was up to when she came home at lunch-time. Cynthia Tring had told her about it. Worried me all afternoon. I didn’t tell anyone else. Didn’t see anyone, as it happened. Knew there was no point in trying to see Louella earlier. Thought she might have taken the early train back from London. Gets in at four-thirty. I was wrong.’

  ‘You didn’t go into the cottage?’

  ‘Good Lord no. Louella used to be pretty casual about that kind of thing, of course.’

  ‘Key under the mat …’

  ‘Flower-pot, actually. Liberty Hall. Not my style, I’m afraid. Liked people to go in if she was late for an appointment. Always out somewhere, Louella. Usually on good works. Still, I’d rather wait in my car than bust into someone else’s house. Better still, prefer ’em to be home if they’ve invited me.’

  ‘You didn’t smell gas, of course.’

  ‘No. Wouldn’t necessarily have expected to with the kind of insulation she had there. Not from the outside,’ he ended pointedly, pushing tobacco into his pipe.

  ‘Jacks thought one of the others might have gone in.’

  ‘So he said.’

  ‘He didn’t tell you who they were?’

  ‘Friends of Louella’s, that’s all. I didn’t push him. Could be almost anyone.’

  ‘But he’d be able to separate the friends from the acquaintances. He worked around the place, after all.’

  ‘Wouldn’t count on it. Louella had a wide circle of callers. Lot of them went to her for help in one form or another.’

  ‘I see. The most frequent visitors could have been supplicants rather than close chums.’ He pointed to the Commander’s nearly empty glass. ‘Pink gin, wasn’t it?’ He looked towards the bar. Mrs Daws had come in quietly and taken Tracy’s place there.

  ‘No more for me. I have to be off and I know you’ve got a date, so let me tell you why I wanted to catch you.’ Mane frowned. ‘What Jacks said is obviously bothering you. Did the same to me. If Louella left that gas on so it blew her to kingdom come at eight, why didn’t Jacks smell it at five?’

  ‘His not smelling the stuff was odd but apparently not impossible.’

  ‘But if it were proved impossible?’

  Treasure nodded. ‘You want to try finding out?’

  Mane looked about him. Apart from Mrs Daws there was now a middle-aged couple standing at the bar — all were out of earshot. ‘Have tried. Went up there about an hour ago.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Hour and a half, actually. As soon as I heard about Jacks. Thought the police would still be there. They weren’t.’

  ‘Constable Stock and I were the last to leave. That was about four-thirty.’

  ‘Hadn’t planned anything. Came to me on the instant, though. Why not check out the gas business? Bit cavalier, I know, but there’s a responsibility.’

  ‘One that we share,’ said Treasure firmly. ‘The police ought to be told Jacks’s story, except the implications could be pretty serious for someone …’

  ‘If that someone had been in and couldn’t have avoided niffing gas — if the gas was on already.’ The two men stared at each other silently for a moment before Mane continued. ‘That’s why I made the experiment. Privately.’

  ‘How did you get in?’

  ‘Easy. The backdoor key to my house fits the front door at the cottage. Always has. That’s why I never cared for Louella leaving spare keys about. Always meaning to have my lock changed. Never got around to it. Pointless, too, I suppose. She said she’d never let on we had keys to each other’s places. Pretended it would compromise my reputation.’ He smiled wanly, then sucked on the unlit pipe. ‘Poor Louella. Anyway, I let myself in, turned on four gas rings, full cock …’

  ‘Four?’ Treasure interrupted.

  ‘Four over quarter of an hour equalling one over an hour. Technically imperfect for a variety of reasons, but good enough for our purposes. More than good enough.’

  ‘How d’you mean?’

  ‘I shut all inside doors, and sat on a chair in the hall. In ten minutes I was getting a strong whiff of gas. In fifteen I turned off the taps and opened the windows. Had to, for safety. Hall was reeking of the stuff.’

  Treasure frowned. ‘Yesterday’s explosion could have opened airways that weren’t there before.’

  ‘True, except the force of that explosion went in the opposite direction — out to the garage.’

  ‘So you think …’

  ‘I think we can make every sensible allowance and double it. We’ll still come back to the fact if Louella left the gas on early morning, Jacks would have smelled it when he went in.’

  ‘What you mean is someone else switched the gas on much later in the day.’

  The Commander frowned. ‘I wish I knew what I meant. There are quite a lot of alternative explanations, some of them quite innocent. I mean not involving …’

  ‘Criminal actions? Like an old-fashioned gas leak?’

  ‘That’s one, yes.’

  ‘What d’you want to do about it?’

  ‘To be honest, I’d like to sleep on it.’

  ‘See the police in the morning?’

  ‘If I …’

  ‘If we feel the same way. We’ll see them together.’

  ‘Agreed,’ said the Commander, evidently much relieved.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Arundel town is stopped in history?’ asked Sheikh Mhad Alid tentatively.

  ‘Steeped. Yes,’ Treasure corrected without emphasis.

  ‘Especially the castle. Good position defensively. Modernized,’ Ali went on, the wrinkled brow indicating deep calculation, or a headache from the night before.

  ‘The seventeenth Duke of Norfolk still lives there,’ said Treasure.

  ‘Norfolk is a long way from Arundel, no?’

  ‘It’s an old family. Lots of estates and titles all over the place.’

  ‘Nomadic.’

  Treasure chuckled. ‘You could say that, I suppose.’

  ‘Anyway, the Duke’s not open to offers,’ put in Quaint. He drained his wine glass, an action Treasure was coming to regard as characteristic.

  ‘My brother, the Emir, he likes historic castles.’

  ‘Collects them, you mean?’ Quaint was helping himself to the claret, beating the attentive wine-waiter to the decanter by a hair’s breadth.

  ‘This one was begun in the reign of Edward the Confessor,’ said the banker. ‘Circular keep and double bailey. Looks like a small version of Windsor.’

  ‘My brother, he’s been to Windsor.’

  ‘Too pricey, even for him, eh?’ Quaint joked, too loudly. Alcohol seemed to do wonders for his back — and his lungs.

  ‘The cathedral too. That is old?’

  ‘Not very. Roman Catholic. Late nineteenth-century. Architect Joseph Aloyius Hansom.’

  ‘Like Hansom cab?’ asked Quaint, but only because he was trying to disguise a belch. He stared defiantly at a man who looked round from the next table.

  ‘He invented it.’

  ‘What?’ Quaint demanded.

  ‘The Hansom cab.’

  Ali was writing busily.

  ‘Some dessert? Cheese?’ The banker smiled at the others.

  ‘Food’s good here,’ responded Quaint, who had eaten almost as well as he’d drunk. ‘Bit of Stilton to keep the port company, perhaps,’ he added, unwaveringly identifying his needs and priorities.

 

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