Authors: Carola Dunn
Dead in the Water (8 page)
“His only tormentor, really. The others just ignore him, mostly. Rollo stood up for him when DeLancey was being quite disgustingly rude, and he and Cherry went to the rescue when DeLancey attacked him.”
“DeLancey actually physically attacked Bott?” Alec exclaimed.
“He shoved him into the river.” Daisy explained about the taunts which had led Bott to drink whisky and to attempt to cox next morning, and the sorry result. “DeLancey didn't accept any responsibility whatever. He blamed the whole thing on Bott. The ducking was only the climax of a whole string of public insults, and there's no knowing what he might have done next if Lord DeLanceyâhis brotherâhadn't taken him away.”
“So Bott had every reason to go for DeLancey.”
“Cherry and Rollo did, too.” Daisy immediately regretted her instinctive defence of the defenceless cox, but Alec's raised eyebrows demanded elaboration. “Cherry was absolutely livid over DeLancey insulting Dottie and pursuing Tish,” she said reluctantly. “Rollo only just stopped him going for him once.
But Rollo found it hard to restrain himself, as well. He and Tish aren't engaged yet, but he's frightfully fond of her.”
But Rollo found it hard to restrain himself, as well. He and Tish aren't engaged yet, but he's frightfully fond of her.”
“Bott, Cheringham, and Frieth,” Alec mused. “What about the rest of them?”
“I didn't hear DeLancey provoking any of them, not to fury. They were pretty fed up with his behaviour to Bott when it made them lose the race. It wouldn't surprise me at all if one of them quarrelled with him over it. Assuming he ignored his brother's wishes, anyone could have gone down to the boat-house and ⦔
“Hold on! Where do DeLancey's brother and the boat-house come into this? Oh, the dickens, here come Leigh and the local constabulary!” He stood up and reached down to help Daisy up.
“Oh blast!” she said. “If you're not put in charge, I don't suppose anyone else will be willing to listen to my theory.”
Holding both her hands, he looked down at her with a crooked smile. “I'll do my best to persuade them at least to listen,” he promised. “You do occasionally come up with the odd fairly bright idea.”
“You're too kind!” said Daisy.
L
eigh had brought Inspector Washburn, two bobbies, and a tall, lean gentleman he introduced as the Chief Constable of Berkshire. Alec blinked at Sir Amory Brentwood's brilliant pink blazer, tie, cap, and socks, a startling contrast to the sober police blue surrounding him.
eigh had brought Inspector Washburn, two bobbies, and a tall, lean gentleman he introduced as the Chief Constable of Berkshire. Alec blinked at Sir Amory Brentwood's brilliant pink blazer, tie, cap, and socks, a startling contrast to the sober police blue surrounding him.
“Everything under control, eh?” said Sir Amory. “Hope you've no objection to taking charge, my dear fellow. My men are spread thin, what with the Regatta crowds, and Prince Henry due to pop in this afternoon. Dashing young chappie, wants a bit of watching, what?”
Seeing Daisy lurking not quite beyond earshot, her back tactfully turned as if she was watching the races, but undoubtedly listening, Alec made a last-ditch effort to save their weekend. “Sir, the Assistant Commissioner ⦔
“I'll make all right with your A.C., never fear,” Sir Amory assured him. “Spot of luck your being down here. You can call on Inspector Wishbone here for any help you need, of course, but I hope you'll try not to be too much of a drain on my manpower.”
Alec surrendered. “I'll send for my own men, sir. There
seems to be a Buckinghamshire connection. I don't suppose you could advice me how to get in touch with the C.C.?”
seems to be a Buckinghamshire connection. I don't suppose you could advice me how to get in touch with the C.C.?”
“Old Felter? He'll be at Phyllis Court I expect, old chap, and so will Packington, the Oxfordshire C.C., if you need him. I'm a rowing man myself, you know.” He sighed. “Or used to be. Well, I'll leave you chaps to get on with it then. Over to you, Wishbone, what?”
“Yes, sir,” said the Inspector resignedly.
Already turning away, Sir Amory swung back. “I say, it is murder, is it? That young fellow wasn't too sure.”
“Or manslaughter, sir,” Alec temporised, “but that's up to the courts. For police purposes, all homicides are presumed to be murder.”
“Yes, of course. Homicide, eh? Not a homicidal maniac, I trust?” He laughed nervously. “Er, who ⦠?” He glanced past Alec at the victim under his temporary maroon shroud.
Alec was glad to see that Poindexter had used his blazer to cover the legs. “The Honourable Basil DeLancey,” he said.
“Honourable ⦠?” The Chief Constable paled. “Good gad! It couldn't be a Bolshevik plot, could it?”
“I think it highly unlikely, sir.”
“Good, good. Prince Henry coming and all, what? Be grateful if you could keep it under your hat as much as possible, old chap. Don't want a lot of fuss with royalty around, eh?”
“I'll do my best, sir, but I gather Lord DeLancey, the victim's brother, is in Henley. I can't expect to keep it from him until the Prince has left.” In fact, Alec began to realise, the case was not only going to disrupt his time with Daisy. One way or another, it was going to land him in a thoroughly invidious position.
Sir Amory shook his head gloomily. “Can't ask more than your best,” he admitted. “Lord DeLancey, eh?”
Leigh, who had stepped away to join Daisy, returned. “Sorry to butt in, sir,” he said, “but I think that's Lord DeLancey coming now. There, in the navy blazer.”
The Chief Constable glanced back along the towpath, his eyes popping. “I'm off. Least said, soonest mended, eh, Chief Inspector?”
Alec did not waste time watching him go. “Washburn, isn't it?” he said to the local Inspector, earning a look of gratitude. “I'd like to keep your two men for the moment, though I'll return them to you as soon as possible. I won't detain you, but will you be so good as to telephone the Yard and ask them to send down my men?”
“Of course, sir.” The Inspector took out his notebook.
“Sergeant Tring and Constable Piper. They'd better go to the Henley police station. I'll leave a message there when I know where to have them contact me.”
“Right you are, sir. I've sent for our police surgeon, sir, Dr. Dewhurst, but he has to come from Reading. If you're going to be working with the Henley force, too, you might want to get hold of their man.”
“Damn!” said Alec. “I need to speak to the Bucks and Oxfordshire C.C.s. Where's this Phyllis Court?”
“It's an exclusive clubâsocial, not rowing like Leanderâover on the other side of the river, sir.”
“It would be! I'll have to get to a telephone myself.” He groaned as he saw complications multiplying. The man Leigh had pointed out as Lord DeLancey was about to add to them. “Felter and Packington, was it?”
“Colonel Felter and Mr. James Packington, sir.”
“Thanks, Washburn. Forget about the Henley surgeon for the moment. I'll send one of these fellows if I need your further help.”
Inspector Washburn, turning to leave, was accosted by the man in the navy blazer. “Hi, you, I'm DeLancey. What's all this rot about my brother falling out of his boat? Is he ill?”
“Detective Chief Inspector Fletcher will assist you, sir,” said the Inspector, and made good his escape.
Lord DeLancey paled. “What's going on?” he asked uncertainly. “Frieth just said he'd puked and fallen in.”
“I'm sorry, sir,” Alec said, “I'm afraid I have bad news. Your brother is dead.”
“Drowned? The damned fool!” DeLancey said savagely, flushed now with anger. “No one drowns at Henley! With half the world looking on, we'll never manage to keep it quiet.”
So much for brotherly love. Alec had the fewer qualms as he said, “Not drowned. It seems Mr. DeLancey died from the delayed effects of a blow to the head.”
“He fell?” His lordship's flush faded. “Or do you mean someone hit him?”
“Yes, sir. Presumably in the course of a quarrel.”
“A quarrel?” DeLancey's pallor almost equalled his dead brother's. “What do you mean delayed? How long delayed?”
“At present I have very little information. I shall have to ask you when you last saw your brother and his condition at that time, what you know of his movements, and whether you are aware of anyone who ⦠disliked him. However, this is hardly the place.”
For the first time, Lord DeLancey looked beyond him, at the blazers covering Basil DeLancey's corpse. “This is hardly
the place to let him lie, exposed to every passer-by,” he exclaimed irritably.
the place to let him lie, exposed to every passer-by,” he exclaimed irritably.
Alec agreed. Nor was there any reason not to move the body before the police surgeon saw it; no need to photograph its position; no need to search the ground for clues. The clues would be found wherever DeLancey was hit and fell, not where he died.
In the boat-house? Alec wondered, glancing at Daisy, still pretending not to listen.
“I hesitate to have him carried through the crowds to the town,” he said to Lord DeLancey.
“No, by jingo!”
“Which doesn't leave much alternative. Daisy!” Alec almost smiled at the alacrity with which she turned. “How upset would your aunt be if we carried the deceased back to the house?”
“I haven't the foggiest. Not too, I expect. Worse things must have happened in Africa, don't you think? It ⦠he wouldn't stay long, would he? Gosh, that sounds awful. I'm sorry, Lord DeLancey. Please accept my condolences.”
DeLancey bowed slightly.
“Just until we can get him to the nearest mortuary,” Alec said. “She won't mind if I make a few telephone calls?”
“No, not at all, I'm sure.”
“We'll take him to the Cheringhams', then. You know the house, Lord DeLancey? âBulawayo,' on the Marlow Road.”
“I know it.”
“It may be rather awkward managing things in a skiff, but we'll do it somehow. You can put the stretcher together now, Constable.”
One of Washburn's men had brought a stretcher, dismantled
and rolled up with a sheet inside. Alec took the sheet while the two constables started to assemble the stretcher.
and rolled up with a sheet inside. Alec took the sheet while the two constables started to assemble the stretcher.
“I'll be on my way,” said Lord DeLancey.
“You won't come with us?” Alec asked, surprised.
“No. I'm going back to Crowswood Place, where I'm stayingâyou can reach me there. I must try to get in touch with my people. The Earl and Countess of Bicester, you know. They're on board ship on their way to visit my sister in America.”
One complication the fewer. Alec breathed a silent prayer of gratitude. “As you wish, sir. First, I must ask you to identify the victim. Not that there's the least doubt he's your brother, I'm afraid, but the Coroner prefers formal identification by a relative.”
Reluctantly, Lord DeLancey trailed him over to the body. Alec turned back the corner of the blazer from the face. His lordship cast a quick glance, looking sick.
“That's my brother, Basil DeLancey,” he confirmed, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead.
“Thank you. I'll be in touch.”
DeLancey departed along the towpath at a walk fast enough to be almost a trot.
With the assistance of Poindexter and Wells, Alec quickly and smoothly replaced the blazers with the sheet. Poindexter and Leigh showed a marked distaste for their returned clothing.
“It doesn't s-seem quite respectful to put it on,” said Poindexter.
Leigh merely shuddered and held his at arm's length.
“You might as well wear them,” Daisy said practically, “because
you'll have to carry them back anyway. You can't just drop them here.”
you'll have to carry them back anyway. You can't just drop them here.”
“I should rather say not, fellows,” Meredith agreed. “We don't want a couple of scavenging tramps wandering around in Ambrose blazers.”
“Here come Frieth and Fosdyke,” Leigh announced. “Their need is greater than ours.”
He and Poindexter went to meet Rollo and the younger Fosdyke, whose father turned at the sound of his name. The doctor had not stirred since propping himself on his shooting-stick, but now he folded it.
“Chief Inspector,” he said to Alec, now supervising the constables in lifting the sheet-covered body onto the stretcher, “do you wish me to accompany you to ⦠er ⦠Bulawayo?”
“If it's not too much of an imposition, Mr. Fosdyke, I'd appreciate it.”
“Not at all. I shall be glad to be with my boy at such a distressing time.” He followed Leigh and Poindexter.
“What about the police surgeon?” Daisy asked Alec. “The man's coming from Reading, which is Berkshire ⦔
“I knew you were eavesdropping!”
She grinned at him. “But the body's going to be in Bucks.”
Alec groaned. “And I suppose the Henley surgeon's in Oxfordshire.”
“Marlow's probably the nearest in Buckinghamshireâthough it's not a very big town.”
“The Reading man will have to do the job,” Alec said decisively. “He's on his way, and after all, DeLancey died in Berkshire. Didn't he?”
“Possibly,” said Daisy, “but the county boundary runs
down the middle of the river and I've no idea exactly where. You see why I said they'd want you to take over?”
down the middle of the river and I've no idea exactly where. You see why I said they'd want you to take over?”
“I do indeed!” He turned to Wells and Meredith. “You two won't mind giving a hand with the stretcher, will you? And rowing over to the Cheringhams'?”
They hastened to assure him that Scotland Yard might count on them. The shock of DeLancey's death past, Daisy suspected they were beginning to enjoy the drama of the occasion. It wasn't as if the victim had been beloved of all.
Alec sent one of the constables back to Inspector Washburn with a message for Dr. Dewhurst to proceed to Bulawayo. By then Rollo and young Fosdyke had arrived with their escort. They both looked exhausted and shocked.
“He's really dead?” Rollo asked Alec. “It's my fault!”
Everyone stared at him.
“Mr. Frieth,” Alec said gravely, “It is my duty to warn you that ⦔
“That's not what he means,” Daisy cried, her own feelings of guilt rushing back. “You didn't hit him, did you, Rollo?”
“Lord, no!” he exclaimed, aghast. “I saw enough violence in France. Haven't raised my hand to a soul since. But Mr. Fosdyke says it was probably the stress of sudden exertion which made him keel over. I should never have let him row.”
“Fat choice you had,” Wells snorted. “He insisted he was well enough to go out. And anyway you thoughtâwe all thoughtâall that ailed him was a hangover.”
“That's right,” the others agreed.
Mr. Fosdyke started to reassure Rollo, but Daisy didn't listen as Alec, after glaring at her, set about organising the cortege. The remaining seconded constable led the way at the head of the stretcher, with Wells at the foot. Alec thanked
Constable Rogers for his assistance, then he and Daisy joined the tail end of the procession, behind Mr. Fosdyke and Rollo.
Constable Rogers for his assistance, then he and Daisy joined the tail end of the procession, behind Mr. Fosdyke and Rollo.
“You shouldn't have interrupted,” Alec said softly, tight-lipped. “For all you knew, he was going to confess. You made him pull back from the brink.”
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