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Authors: Carola Dunn

Dead in the Water (19 page)

BOOK: Dead in the Water
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Alec swung round to stare at her, not with annoyance at her interruption but with grey eyes narrowed in thought. At that moment, the door opened and Sister stuck her head in.
“Time for my patient to rest, Chief Inspector. I really must insist.”
“One moment more, Sister. Mr. Bott, the note wasn't found in your pockets when we pulled you out.
What did you do with it?
”
“Chucked it in the waste-paper basket in my room.”
“Thank you for your cooperation, and yours, Miss Hopgood. He's all yours, Sister. Come along, Piper.” Alec strode from the room, Piper loping after him and Daisy trotting to keep up. She pulled the door shut behind her as he turned, saw her, and said, “You're not staying to support Miss Hopgood, Daisy?”
“She doesn't need me any more. Bott's conscious and you've finished questioning him. Besides, I don't want to be stranded here if you're leaving. When I telephoned, Gladstone said Tish is all right, but I want to see her and tell her Bott is recovering.”
“What you mean is, you don't want to be left out of what happens next.”
“That too,” she said with a sunny smile.
His answering smile was rueful. “Well, I haven't time to argue. Ernie, I want you to stay here, standing guard outside
Bott's door. A Henley constable should be on his way to join you—I sent Sergeant Tring to phone for one. I doubt Lord DeLancey will try again to kill Bott in such a public setting, but it's always possible.”
“Right, Chief. Do I arrest him if he turns up?”
“Only if he somehow gets past you and you actually witness an attempt on Bott's life. Otherwise, try to stall him until I get back. If that fails, if he leaves, telephone me at the Cheringhams'.”
“Right, Chief.”
“Good man. Come along, Daisy.” He set off at a fast pace along the passage.
“Do you really think Lord DeLancey might try again to murder Bott?” she asked, scurrying at his side.
“Not if he has his wits about him, but he does seem prone to losing his head.”
“That's what caused his trouble in the War,” Daisy panted.
Regarding her with eyebrows raised, Alec slowed his pace. “It was? I'd better have the rest of that story, now that he's under suspicion.”
“I only know what Tish told me. Cherry said Lord DeLancey panicked and led his men into a massacre, only he led it from behind and he was the only one to come out unscathed. There were just two or three other survivors, I think. It was hushed up because of his father's position, but that's why he's in a blue funk about gossip.”
“A coward, in fact, who goes off the rails in the face of danger.”
“He can't help being afraid,” Daisy argued, finding herself unexpectedly defending Cedric DeLancey. “He didn't ask to be sent into battle. I mean, I expect he could have stayed at
home if he'd tried, Lord Bicester being a member of the government, but the social pressure was enormous. Michael said it took far more courage to withstand public opinion than …”
“Michael?” Alec stopped and frowned down at her, his dark, bushy eyebrows meeting over his nose.
“The man I was engaged to. He was a conscientious objector. You needn't look so beastly contemptuous.” Daisy blinked back tears. “He joined a Friends' Ambulance Unit and was blown up by a land-mine.”
Taking her hands, Alec said quietly, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to look contemptuous. You must explain to me … but not now.”
“No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring it up now.” She sniffed. “Here comes Mr. Tring.”
A quick squeeze of the hands and Alec was all business again, striding to meet the sergeant.
“Just coming to see if Sister'd chucked you out yet, Chief. What's next?”
“About turn, Tom. We're going back to Bulawayo.”
“Right, Chief. There's a Henley man on his way. Not to Crowswood Place?”
“No, if DeLancey's there, he'll keep.”
“You're going to look for his note to Bott?” Daisy asked, once more trotting to keep up.
“Yes, it may be the only concrete evidence we can find. I'm just afraid DeLancey may remember it and go to hunt for it. He can use the excuse that he's fetching his brother's stuff to get upstairs to search.”
“He doesn't know Bott bunged it in the WPB,” Daisy pointed out breathlessly.
“No, but he could hope to find it in Bott's room. Oh, the
dickens! Would the maids have emptied the waste-paper baskets by now?”
“It's Sunday,” Daisy panted, emerging into hazy sunshine a step behind Alec, Tom on her heels. With relief she saw the yellow Chummy parked nearby. “I don't expect the local girls will be in today, so the bedrooms will only get a sketchy going-over. I'll hop into the back seat, Mr. Tring.”
“P'raps you'd better, miss.”
The little Austin bounced beneath Tom's weight descending on the front passenger seat as Alec pressed the self-starter. The engine, tuned by Scotland Yard's motor mechanic, purred to life. They zipped away down the street.
“Since Ernie and I left DeLancey, he's had plenty of time to get to Bulawayo and destroy that note,” Alec said, swinging the car around a corner. Fortunately, the traffic was still Sunday-morning sparse after last night's celebrations. “I can only hope he wasn't too swift on the uptake, or that he dithered about what to do.”
“I just hope we don't have to go through the dustbins,” said Tom.
They turned into the Marlow Road. Clear of the town, Alec stepped on the accelerator. Daisy half-expected to see Lord DeLancey speeding towards them on his way to Townlands Hospital to bump off Bott. However, they passed the gates of Crowswood Place without meeting any motor-cars.
“Here, Chief, we're not at Brooklands,” Tom protested as the Austin rocketed around a bend. “It won't do us any good to arrive with broken necks.”
“Sorry.” Alec eased up the merest trifle. “I'm busy kicking myself for not telephoning from the hospital. The house is full of hefty young men quite capable of stopping DeLancey.”
“Cherry knows Lord DeLancey's under suspicion,” Daisy reminded him, hanging onto the side of the car. “I expect he'll be keeping an eye on him if he's turned up already. So if you're using your brake-pedal foot to kick yourself, kindly stop it.”
Alec and Tom both laughed, but there was no noticeable diminution in their speed until they reached Bulawayo and turned into the drive.
On the front lawn, Poindexter, Wells, Leigh, and Meredith were playing croquet. Alec pulled up nearby. “Have you seen Lord DeLancey?” he called.
“No, s-sir, not today.”
“We've been out here for an hour or so,” Leigh added.
“Thanks.” Alec waved and continued to the house. “Tom, find a spot indoors where you can see him drive up, assuming he does. Let him get inside, well out of the way, then let the air out of his tyres. If he's not after the note, we'll explain later.”
“What are you going to do, Alec?” Daisy asked, climbing out from the back seat.
“Try to catch him red-handed, without giving him a chance to destroy the note.” Alec rang the door-bell as they all went into the house. The butler came through the baize door at the rear of the hall. “Gladstone, I want to station Sergeant Tring at a window overlooking the drive.”
“The dining room, sir?” Imperturbable, Gladstone opened the dining-room door, and Tom went to take up his post.
“We're expecting Lord DeLancey.” Alec said.
“To fetch Mr. DeLancey's things, sir?”
“So he'll no doubt say. When you answer the door, please direct him upstairs, don't accompany him.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Which is Bott's room?”
“Last door on the left in the right wing, sir. Opposite the back stairs.”
“There's a door to the stairs?”
“Oh yes, sir. The usual swinging door padded against sound.”
“Perfect. Thank you.” Alec headed for the stairs. When Daisy followed, he turned to her and shook his head. “You're to stay well out of this. Cedric DeLancey is unpredictable and therefore dangerous.”
“I know, darling. I shan't get in the way, I promise, but I simply must go up and change my clothes.”
He looked her up and down and his grey eyes lit with laughter. “It might be a good idea, love,” he admitted.
“You're not in much better shape yourself,” Daisy retorted.
She pottered about in bedroom and bathroom, intending to keep her promise yet reluctant to go too far away. After all, Alec was in danger, too. She was in Tish's bedroom when she heard a motor-car drive up. Discreetly peering from the window, she saw Lord DeLancey step out of a dark green Bentley sports car.
Gladstone must have been watching with Tom, because he admitted Lord DeLancey at once. A minute or two later, Tom came out and knelt by the Bentley to open the valve of the first tyre.
“Hi, what's up?” called one of the croquet-players, and they all abandoned their game to cluster around the sergeant.
Daisy did not wait to try to hear what Tom said. Crossing the room, she eased open the door, and peeped out. No sign
of Lord DeLancey on the landing or in the opposite passage. Then Alec emerged from the back stairs, crept across the passage, and opened the door of Bott's room.
Footsteps thundered up the stairs. Meredith and Wells charged across the landing, Leigh and Poindexter close behind. Between them, Daisy caught a glimpse of Alec turning his head to glance at them, looking annoyed. Then he lurched as DeLancey shoved past him.
“View halloo!” cried Leigh.
DeLancey darted through the swinging door to the back stairs and disappeared. After him went the oarsmen, in full cry.
“Tally-ho!”
“Gone away!”
“Yoicks!”
“So-ho! So-ho!”
“Damn!” Alec glowered after the pack, then turned and headed for the main stairs. Seeing Daisy, he gestured back towards Bott's room. “Daisy, take a look in there, would you?”
“Right-oh.” She sped to the linen-room. Bott's camp-bed practically filled the floor space, with a frightful Victorian plant-stand of painted papier-mâché for a night-table. A shelf had been cleared of linens for his things. These were in disarray, tent-pegs scattered over rumpled shirts and vests.
On the bed lay a coat-hanger, a jacket half inside-out, a wicker waste-paper basket, and a small heap of its contents: an empty Woodbines packet, dead matches, a tobacconist's receipt, a pass for the General Enclosure, and a crumpled sheet of paper.
Lord DeLancey couldn't possibly have missed it. Alec must have interrupted him just as he emptied the WPB.
Snatching it up, Daisy paused just long enough to make sure it was indeed the invitation to the Temple Island rendezvous. Then she dashed after Alec.
Half-way down the stairs, she saw him at the front door with Tom Tring and Gladstone.
“Alec, I've got it!”
She waved the note as all three looked round. Alec took a step towards her but suddenly his gaze shifted to beyond her. On the next to bottom step, Daisy turned to peer over the banisters and saw the green baize service door at the rear of the hall swinging open.
Lord DeLancey rushed into the hall. As the door swung shut behind him, Daisy heard the baying of the hounds on his trail. His pale, drawn face and terrified eyes reminded her of why she had always refused to go fox-hunting.
Alec moved to meet him. “Lord DeLancey …”
With a cry of despair, he swerved and darted through the nearest door, into the library. Wells burst through the baize door just in time to spot him. View-hallooing triumphantly, he and his friends galumphed after their quarry.
But the fox was not yet brought to bay.
“He'll go through a window,” Alec cried, changing direction. “Tom, we'll try to head him off.” He ran into the drawing-room, the sergeant close behind.
Hurrying after them, Daisy was no longer sure whose side she was on.
F
rom the top of the terrace steps, Daisy had a grandstand view of the action.
Half-way down the lawn the four Ambrose men, slowed when they all tried to climb through the same library window, caught up with Alec and Tom. Cherry and Rollo had a headstart, dashing in from the side—they had been sitting under the chestnut with Aunt Cynthia and the girls when the hunt veered their way.
They all closed in on the landing-stage, where Lord DeLancey, already kneeling in one of the skiffs, slashed frantically with a pocket-knife at the painter.
The line parted. Pushing off, DeLancey grabbed the sculls and slotted them into the rowlocks. He pulled out into the stream as Rollo and Cherry pounded along the landing-stage to the second skiff.
“No oars!” Rollo cried in dismay.
Cherry swung round. “Fletcher!”
Alec altered course towards the boat-house, slowing as he fumbled for the padlock key in his trouser pocket.
Poindexter overtook him. “I put a pair here when we
fetched the missing s-skiff from Temple Island.” He retrieved two sculls from the bushes and made for the skiff.
By then, Cherry and Rollo were installed on the rowing benches and Meredith on the rear seat, while Wells slid the rudder into place. Alec unfastened the boat-house door anyway. Leigh plunged in and came out with another pair of sculls, which he and Poindexter passed at arms' length to Cherry across the already widening gap between boat and shore.
Lord DeLancey was nearing the middle of the river, heading across and downstream. A small, noisy motor-launch and several other rowing craft were making their way down the river from Henley, keeping to the right against the Berkshire bank.
Daisy looked down towards Hambleden. Nothing was coming up the river at the moment, but at the bend a number of boats were hanging on to the piles and booms above the lock, waiting their turns to enter. The lock must be filling to the level of the upper river.
Did Lord DeLancey know about the lock? His pursuers were bound to catch him there. Or did he intend to land on the Remenham bank and take to his heels? He couldn't possibly get far. Most likely he was in such a panic he had no plans at all.
With Meredith steering to take best advantage of the faster stream flowing towards the weir, on the near side of the river, Cherry and Rollo were rapidly gaining on DeLancey.
“There's not much they can do,” said Alec, joining Daisy at her vantage point, “until he goes ashore.”
“Or reaches the lock.”
“It's just round the bend?”
“Yes, on the right. Those boats are queuing to get in when the water level—Oh, the gates must have opened. Here comes a launch.”
Its well-tuned engine buzzing like a persistent bee, the launch came up fast, steering towards the middle of the river out of the way of the downstream traffic. Meredith spotted it a moment after Daisy. His yell reached her ears over the launch's hum. Rollo and Cherry backed their oars.
Lord DeLancey kept going, pulling on his sculls in a manic frenzy. The launch hooted at him and took evasive action—too late.
The skiff's bows splintered against the launch's side, an oblique blow that tipped DeLancey into the river.
He started to swim away from the launch, downstream on a long slant towards the Bucks bank. The current was swift, racing towards the weir. Meredith, Cherry, Rollo, the men in the launch, all shouted at DeLancey. Unhearing or unheeding, he made no effort to head directly for the bank.
From the height and distance of the garden steps, the speeding water looked smooth as glass, the swirling undercurrents concealed beneath the sleek surface. DeLancey's dark head bobbed on it like a fisherman's float, then disappeared.
 
“Drowned,” Alec confirmed tiredly, dropping to the grass beside Daisy in the chestnut's shade.
Jaws and teaspoons stilled.
In the hush, a heron flapping its leisurely way up the river emitted a loud
grawk
. Someone turned a nervous snicker into a cough, but the tension broke. Well-bred voices murmured once more, and porcelain cups chinked against saucers.
“Tea, Mr. Fletcher?”
“Please, Lady Cheringham. And a sandwich or two, if I may. I seem to have missed both breakfast and lunch.”
Daisy jumped up and piled a plate with cucumber sandwiches, watercress sandwiches, and Gentleman's Relish sandwiches, topped with two buttered scones. “You're in luck, darling,” she said, presenting it to Alec. “Cook is still catering to oarsmen's appetites.”
“That reminds me.” The first scone stopped half-way to his mouth and he raised his voice. “Gentlemen, you're free to leave now, of course. I want to thank you all for being quite the most helpful and cooperative group of suspects it's ever been my pleasure not to have to arrest.”
Everyone laughed. Daisy guessed that in the minds of four young men the drama and tragedy of the past few days was already metamorphosing into a splendid story for future telling and retelling.
Perhaps Alec saw the same thing, for he added, “I'm counting on you to keep your mouths shut, for the present at least. This is still a police matter, not to mention the innocent people who might be hurt if rumours spread.”
There was a disappointed murmur of assent.
“Does Fosdyke know he's free to go?” Daisy asked Alec.
“I left Tom to 'phone the Catherine Wheel before he joins Gladstone for his tea, since he, I gather, had breakfast at the hospital.”
“Yes, they fed us, though I can't recommend their catering. Do you know how Bott's doing?”
“I dropped in to tell him what happened, and that he's no longer under suspicion. He's a bit feverish. They're keeping him in overnight, but the doctor doesn't think it's serious as he's too fit to succumb easily to an infection. Miss Hopgood's
confident enough to be going home tonight so she won't miss work tomorrow.”
“Good. What about you?”
“I've got a few odds and ends to clear up here. I'm meeting the three Chief Constables at Henley Police Station.” He consulted his wrist-watch. “In half an hour, so let me eat in peace, woman.”
“Right-oh, darling.”
Leigh and Meredith, Poindexter and Wells, were already taking leave of their hostess, so Daisy went to say good-bye to them. Cherry, Rollo, and Dottie were staying on at Bulawayo for a few more days.
Rollo drew Daisy aside. “I'm dashed worried about Tish,” he confided. “All this ghastly business has hit her awfully hard.”
Daisy glanced at her cousin, sitting close beside her mother. She was pale and wan, and the effort she made to smile at the departing foursome was painfully obvious.
“She's not exactly used to people assaulting each other and expiring all over the place,” Daisy said. “It's just been one thing after another, with no time to recover from the shock in between. I'm sure a few days of peace and quiet will buck her up. Just take extra good care of her.”
“I wish I had the right to take care of her!” Rollo burst out.
“Have you decided yet what to do about your degree?”
He winced. “To tell the truth, I dread another year of lectures and essays and tutorials. I'm just not cut out for it.”
Daisy gave him a straight look. “It all rather depends on whether you consider Tish is worth the slog, doesn't it?”
Rollo was taken aback, as if he'd never thought in quite
those terms before. He flushed. “Yes, well, when you put it like that … .” He glanced at Tish, who sent him a tremulous smile. “Confound it, I'll try,” he said with a reckless air. “I'd slay dragons for her, so what's a few dons here or there?”
“Spiffing! Go and tell her. That will cheer her up.”
She watched as he went over to Tish and the two of them strolled down towards the river. Then Alec got up, so she joined him.
“I feel almost human again,” he said, setting his empty plate and cup on the tea-trolley, “but I must run. Lady Cheringham, my men will be off to London by train this evening, but if I might trespass further on your hospitality, I'd like to stay till tomorrow. There's business I can't complete till the morning, and then I'll be able to drive Daisy up to town.”
“You're more than welcome, Mr. Fletcher,” Aunt Cynthia assured him.
“Spiffing!”
Alec grinned at Daisy. “While I'm gone, you'll have time to type up your notes of Bott's statement. Regard it as the penalty for …”
“ … Meddling,” said Daisy, wrinkling her nose at him but dutifully accompanying him into the house.
 
With all the departures, there were enough bedrooms for everyone that night. Daisy was in bed and about to turn off her light when Tish tapped on the door and came in.
“Daisy, can I talk to you?”
“Of course.” Daisy patted the bed. “Come and sit down.”
To her dismay, her cousin's eyes were red and swollen. Aunt Cynthia had sent her up to bed right after tea, saying she
looked exhausted, and she had had her dinner on a tray, so Daisy had not seen her since her talk with Rollo. She certainly did not look as if she'd been crying from happiness.
Yet Daisy was quite sure Tish was in love with Rollo. Had he got cold feet at the last moment? He had been rather quiet all evening.
“What's the trouble?” she asked.
“Oh Daisy, I simply
must
tell someone! But it's all so dreadful, I can't bear … .” A sob escaped her.
Reaching for the handkerchief on her bedside-table, Daisy leaned forward to put her arm round Tish's shaking shoulders. “Here, darling. Is it something to do with Rollo?”
“Not really. Well, sort of, now. He's asked me to marry him—it'd have to be a long engagement, but what does it matter? I told him I'd have to think about it, because I couldn't bear to disappoint him, but I can't let him marry a murderer!”
Daisy's head swam. Trying to think, she leant back and clasped both Tish's hands. “Basil DeLancey?”
Tish nodded, her eyes shut and her lips trembling in spite of being pressed tight together.
“Darling, how frightful! Tell me.”
“I woke up in the night, that night.” Now she had started, the words poured forth. “I started to worry about Bott and the fours boat. It was Rollo's last chance to win a cup, and I thought if he didn't, he'd quit the university and that would be the end of
us
. You know how awful everything seems at two o'clock in the morning.”
“Beastly,” Daisy agreed.
“Things go round and round in one's head, and one simply
can't think straight. Rollo and Cherry were both sure Bott wouldn't do it, but they were equally sure Basil DeLancey wouldn't stand guard. In the end, I knew I'd never fall asleep again until I had seen for myself. So I crept out and went down there.”
“And there was the Hon. Basil, lying in wait for Bott.”
“I didn't see him till he had got between me and the door. The moon was shining right in at the windows, but Mother's vines kept half the light out, and you know how eerie moonlight can be.”
Remembering her own foray, Daisy nodded. “Did he mistake you for Bott?”
“Oh no. He called me ‘pretty Patsy,' which is a name I
despise
, and he said he was glad I'd come to give him a bit of nookie, he'd much rather have me than Bott. He was advancing on me, saying all sorts of horrible things. I grabbed an oar from the rack and told him to let me pass or I'd hit him. But he kept coming and coming until I couldn't move any further back, so I did.”
Tish buried her face in her hands, and Daisy put an arm around her shoulders again. “Gosh, darling, how absolutely frightful for you.”
“He ducked, but the blade caught him on the side of the head. I didn't think I'd be able to hit hard enough to really hurt him, but I suppose the length of the oar … . He fell, and slid across the floor, and lay still. I dropped the oar, but then I thought how annoyed Rollo would be to find it on the floor, so I put it back in the rack. I was going to go back to DeLancey to see how badly hurt he was, but when I turned round, he was already getting up. A moonbeam shone on his
face, and he looked so angry and positively
evil
that I just ran away.”
“I don't blame you a bit. No wonder you were terrified he had come after you when he barged into our room.”
“You were wonderful then, Daisy! I was sure you must be right about his being drunk. He wouldn't have behaved so badly if he hadn't had too much to drink, and I didn't think he could have walked back to the house if he was badly hurt. I didn't know people sometimes collapse later.”
BOOK: Dead in the Water
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