Authors: Carola Dunn
Dead in the Water (9 page)
“I'm sure he didn't whack DeLancey. He's much too peaceable.”
“You can't be sure. You told me he had a motive, had a hard time restraining his anger at DeLancey's making eyes at Patricia. You can't take him under your wing just because he's your cousin's suitor.”
“I'm not!” Daisy insisted. “He's just not the sort to biff someone without immediate provocation. Since Tish wasn't at the boat-house to be quarrelled over ⦔
“Ah, the boat-house! Let's drop Frieth and Tish for the moment while you explain why you keep harping on that. And also how it happened that you and she saw DeLancey in a parlous state when no one elseâapparentlyâdid.”
“All right. I told you DeLancey shoved Bott into the river. Bott swore revenge, and DeLancey took it into his head that he was going to sabotage the fours boat. So heâDeLanceyâplanned to spend the night in the boat-house guarding the boat. Lord DeLancey forbade it, said he'd just make a silly ass of himself and people would talk. Though after his public attack on Bott, a mere vigil would hardly add to the scandal.”
“Lord DeLancey seems to have a strong aversion to being a subject of gossip,” said Alec. “That was his chief emotion on learning his brother was dead.”
Daisy hadn't actually promised Tish not to pass on the reason. The details were irrelevant, however. “He had rather a poor War record,” she said. “It was hushed up, but of course
some people know, and he's madly afraid it will come out if there's talk about the family. Anyway, I shouldn't be at all surprised if Basil DeLancey went down to the boat-house regardless of his brother's prohibition, should you?”
some people know, and he's madly afraid it will come out if there's talk about the family. Anyway, I shouldn't be at all surprised if Basil DeLancey went down to the boat-house regardless of his brother's prohibition, should you?”
“Not at all.”
“Especially as he
had
been drinking, so he very likely wasn't thinking frightfully clearly.”
had
been drinking, so he very likely wasn't thinking frightfully clearly.”
“Very likely not. We'll have to consider the boat-house as a possible scene of the crime, certainly, but there's nothing to say it wasn't elsewhere.”
“I suppose not,” said Daisy, crestfallen.
“Cheer up, my love. It's worth knowing we need to check the place carefully. âWe,' I say. I can only hope Tring and Piper turn up, and soon.”
“There are extra trains down to Henley because of the Regatta, and it's not more than an hour's journey.”
“True, but it depends whether the Yard can contact them quickly, and how hard they try, based on a request from a Berkshire Inspector. I'd better ring up myself. I'm going to be spending a long time on the telephone, Daisy, so you'd better tell me the rest before we get to the skiffs.”
“There's not much more. Only that DeLancey woke us up, Tish and me, in the middle of the night. He came stumbling into the bedroom, confused and unsteady on his feet, just as if he were drunk.”
“The middle of the night?” Alec asked sharply. “Can you be more definite?”
“About two. Just past.” Daisy noted that he expressed no concern for her safety. She could not decide whether to be pleased that he believed she could take care of herself, or hurt
by his lack of solicitude. Of course, he could see she had suffered no harm. “I looked at the clock when I turned on the light to see what was going on,” she added.
by his lack of solicitude. Of course, he could see she had suffered no harm. “I looked at the clock when I turned on the light to see what was going on,” she added.
“It sounds as if DeLancey was hit before two, then, though I'll have to talk to Mr. Fosdyke and Dr. Dewhurst about the symptoms. They'll probably want a more precise description from you. What did you do about his intrusion?”
“Tish fetched young Fosdykeâthey shared a bedroomâand Fosdyke took him away for us, bless him.”
Alec stopped her with a hand on her arm, so that they fell further behind the next in line, Rollo and Mr. Fosdyke Senior.
“If DeLancey was, in fact, simply drunk at that point,” Alec said in a low voice, “he could have started a dust-up with young Fosdyke after they left you.”
“You mean it could have been Fosdyke who biffed him?”
“Exactly. Though, come to think of it, surely someone would have heard if they had scrapped in the passage or bedroom.”
“Not necessarily. The rowers sleep the sleep of the deadâUgh! I mean, they sleep like logs. Tish had a frightful struggle to wake Fosdyke. Rowing seems to be a fearfully
draining
sport,” Daisy remarked in a meditative aside. “They all eat like horses, too.”
draining
sport,” Daisy remarked in a meditative aside. “They all eat like horses, too.”
“No one heard DeLancey in your room, I assume,” Alec said impatiently, starting off again after the others.
“No. It's on the other side of the landing from the wing the men are in, and there's a bathroom opposite, and a dressing-room between Tish's room and her parents'. Dottie's opposite Aunt Cynthia's room, diagonally across the passage from Tish's.”
“Miss Carrick heard nothing?”
“She might have if DeLancey had kicked up a row, but actually all he did was mumble and moan. Tish was afraid for a minute that he'd come after her, but he wasn't at all aggressive.”
“He might have become aggressive on being removed. Young Fosdyke has to go on my list. Oh, Daisy, Daisy, I'm afraid our weekend is thoroughly dished!”
“Too maddening,” said Daisy with regret, but she went on philosophically, “Still, no one can say you didn't warn me about marrying a policeman. And at least you're here with me, not in the outer reaches of darkest Devon or Derbyshire.”
“Daisy, where's Tish?” Rollo asked anxiously, dropping back as Mr. Fosdyke moved ahead to join his son.
“Cherry took her and Dottie home, ages ago. She was fearfully upset.”
Rollo frowned. “I didn't think she liked DeLancey.”
Glancing at Alec, Daisy was sure he had noted this intimation of jealousy. “She didn't, you chump,” she assured Rollo. “Seeing someone die right in front of you is upsetting even if you loathe him.”
“He wouldn't stop pestering her!”
“He's stopped now,” Alec observed.
“Yes,” said Rollo, not troubling to hide his satisfaction. If he was going to be a successful diplomat, Daisy thought, he needed to practise inscrutability. “I can't say I'm sorry,” he went on, adding earnestly to Alec, “but I didn't take a whack at him, you know, though I can't deny I often wanted to.”
Alec's nod was as inscrutable as a nod can be. “From what I've heard, you had cause.”
Rollo stopped in his tracks, an expression of horror crossing
his eloquent features. “Daisy, what's upsetting Tish isn't that she thinks I biffed him, is it?”
his eloquent features. “Daisy, what's upsetting Tish isn't that she thinks I biffed him, is it?”
That notion had not crossed Daisy's mind before. “Of course not. She knows you too well,” she said hastily, as convincingly as she could, but it seemed more than possible that Tish suspected Rollo, or Cherry, or both.
Tish had another reason for her distress, Daisy recalled. Now that DeLancey was dead, no harm could come of Rollo knowing about his intrusion into their bedroom, so she told him.
“You see, Tish and I have as much cause to reproach ourselves as you did,” she pointed out. “If you hadn't let him row, if we'd realised he wasn't drunk but needed a doctor ⦠.”
“Mr. Fosdyke says even if he had not rowed, any exertion could have killed him. And even with medical attention he might have died, or lived on with crippling brain damage. I'll ask him to talk to Tish.” Rollo hurried after the doctor.
Alec sighed. “He does seem too ingenuous to be lying. What about Cheringham? If I'm not mistaken, you said Frieth once held him back from coming to cuffs with DeLancey.”
“I wish I hadn't told you!” said Daisy. “Anyway, he pulled DeLancey out of the river.”
“I don't for a moment imagine whoever struck DeLancey intended his death, or he'd have finished him off there and then. But, as you no doubt heard me tellâremindâSir Amory, from a police point of view, all unlawful deaths are equivalent. It's up to the courts to decide between murder and manslaughter. Cheringham's efforts to save DeLancey would certainly be a mitigating factor.”
“I don't believe he did it.” But Daisy remembered Cherry's aghast face when Mr. Fosdyke pronounced DeLancey dead.
“I suppose I can't expect you to speak ill of your cousin's cousin. Nonetheless, I'm afraid he and Frieth have to be considered prime suspects.”
“What about Horace Bott?” said Daisy.
“Ah, there you have it,” said Alec, “what about Horace Bott? And, more to the point, where is Horace Bott?”
A
lec spent a frustrating but ultimately successful hour on the telephone in Sir Rupert's library.
lec spent a frustrating but ultimately successful hour on the telephone in Sir Rupert's library.
He had permission from the Chief Constables of Bucks and Oxfordshire to operate on their respective manors as necessary. They were both delighted not to have to deal with a murder, especially one involving the aristocracy.
Alec's Superintendent at the Yardâor rather, run to earth at his country cottageâhad impatiently agreed to the three C.C.s' request for Alec's services, as relayed by Alec. With luck, the Assistant Commissioner for Crime need never be consulted. He'd receive the final report, but Alec meant to do his damnedest to keep Daisy's name out of it.
Detective Sergeant Tom Tring and Detective Constable Ernie Piper were on their way to Henley. Alec was sorry to wrest them from a weekend with their respective families, but in a case which promised as many complications as this, he needed men he knew he could rely on.
A Henley constable had been despatched to make enquiries at Bott's young lady's lodgings (Daisy knew the name and address; how the dickens did she manage it?).
The Berkshire officer who had helped to carry the stretcher was ensconced in the drawing-room, keeping an eye on the young men. Three constables had already arrived from the Buckinghamshire police, who were minimally involved in the Regatta. One was guarding the boat-house, one the bedroom DeLancey had shared with young Fosdykeâwhat else ought to be guarded and searched Alec could not guess. The third stood outside the library door, ready to run errands.
The police surgeon had also arrived. The next item on Alec's agenda was to talk to Dr. Dewhurst and make sure he agreed with Mr. Fosdyke's diagnosis.
Alec gulped the last bite of the sandwiches Lady Cheringham had kindly sent in to him and washed it down with a swig of lukewarm tea. Daisy had made Alec's apologies to her aunt when they reached the house, while he headed straight for the telephone. He was very glad her uncle was in Londonâthough the news might well bring him scurrying back.
Leaving the constable to mind the telephone in Sir Rupert's library, Alec made for the old coach-house and stables, now converted into garages. In one of these reposed the remains of the Honourable Basil DeLancey.
Dr. Dewhurst and Mr. Fosdyke sat on a bench against the sunny brick wall, the former smoking a pipe, the latter a cigar. Crossing towards them, Alec felt in his pocket for his own pipe and the tobacco-pouch Belinda had made him, blue, with a crooked monogram.
The medical men saw him and stood up. Fosdyke introduced Alec to the police surgeon, a short, slight, elderly but sprightly-looking gentleman.
“Miss Dalrymple is your fiancée, Chief Inspector?” asked
Dr. Dewhurst, shaking his hand. “A charming young lady. Judging by her description ⦔
Dr. Dewhurst, shaking his hand. “A charming young lady. Judging by her description ⦔
“You have spoken to her?” Alec demanded.
“Why, yes. In such cases, a first-person report is greatly to be preferred, and I understand the young lady of the house, who was also a witness, is indisposed.”
Mr. Fosdyke shook his head gravely. “I've talked to Miss Cheringham, tried to convince her that no possible fault attaches to her for failing to recognise that the young man was not simply inebriated.”
“That was kind of you, sir.”
“She has taken the matter a good deal to heart, I fear. I prescribed a bromide, and her mother, a sensible woman, has put her to bed.”
“I'm sorry to hear she's so cut up,” said Alec, wondering if Tish might be suffering from knowledgeânot mere suspicionâthat Cheringham or Frieth was involved.
“Miss Dalrymple is made of stronger stuff,” Dr. Dewhurst said in a congratulatory tone. “I hope you don't object to my having consulted her.”
Tamping the fragrant tobacco into his pipe with his thumb, Alec bit back a sigh. “No, of course not, sir.” He should have realised Daisy had already inextricably entwined herself in the case. He wasn't even sure any more whether he'd wanted to keep her out of it to protect herâor himself.
“She gave an admirably clear account of the symptoms of the deceased last night and this morning,” the police surgeon continued. “Taking it together with Mr. Fosdyke's account of his death and my own preliminary examination, I concur absolutely with his conclusions. I should be exceedingly surprised
if the autopsy doesn't show the cause of death as subdural haemorrhage and haematoma resulting from a blow to the head and subsequent fall.”
if the autopsy doesn't show the cause of death as subdural haemorrhage and haematoma resulting from a blow to the head and subsequent fall.”
“Would you say DeLancey might have been drunk when she saw him last night? That is, could he have been struck later?”
“Oh yes, quite possibly. But he could equally well have been suffering already from the effects of the brain injury. To the layman, the two may be virtually indistinguishable. Not more than forty-eight hours; at least four. Not much help, but I might be able to narrow it a bit at autopsy.”
“Thank you, sir. I expect I'd better take a look at the injuries for myself, if you wouldn't mind coming along to help me interpret what I see.”
“I'll be off,” said Fosdyke, “if you don't need me any more. Here's my card, Chief Inspector. I'm staying at the Catherine Wheel in Henley, at least until tomorrow evening. If, that is, as I assume, you want Nicholasâmy boyâto remain here.”
“I can't insist, sir, but it would be more convenient.” Alec applied a third lighted match to his pipe and puffed vigorously.
“He'll stay. Nick didn't do it, you know. A fist to the chin, perhaps, but a blunt instrument to the back of the head, never.”
“That's what it looks like?”
“You'll see.” Fosdyke shook hands and Alec thanked him for his assistance, hoping the surgeon was right about his son.
Examining the contusions on DeLancey's head, Alec found himself agreeing with Fosdyke's analysis, though there was room for disagreement. For a start, neither swelling appeared to be caused by a fist.
“The impact of individual knuckles is observable ninety-nine times out of a hundred,” Dr. Dewhurst said, adding cautiously, “There is always the hundredth time, of course.”
Which lump came first was less certain. They were both on the sides of the head rather than the top, front, or back. The one on the right was towards the upper rear, that on the left much further forward but well behind the hair-line. The latter had a raw, scraped look in spite of the draining of blood to the back of the head after death.
“This must have bled,” said Alec.
“Yes, but not badly. It's more of an abrasion than a laceration. Blood would ooze, not flow. Enough to leave you a clue, possibly, but not enough to draw attention, matted in his dark hair as it would have been.”
“And those who saw him were half-asleep. This would be the secondary blow, don't you think?” Alec proposed. “It looks as if he might have fallen and slid across a rough surface.”
Dewhurst agreed. “Also, the swelling is less pronounced, as if caused by a fall from no great height, not a severe blow. What is more, there is some bruising on the left hip and ⦔
“I don't need to see it,” Alec said hastily as the doctor started to draw back the sheet. It was difficult enough to keep his professional composure while examining a disembodied head, without the pathetic sight of the naked body. He puffed on his pipe, though this body, unlike many, required no counter-irritant for the nasal membranes. Thank heaven.
The doctor was also puffing away, speaking around his pipe-stem. “There are several tiny splinters of wood in the secondary contusion and in the left hand,” he observed.
“A wooden floor? Rough plank, not parquet.”
“That's for you to find out, Chief Inspector, but it would
seem a reasonable inference. I find it difficult to picture a weapon which would leave such signs, though that, again, is your business. On the other hand, the right parietal contusion appears to have been produced by some sort of blunt instrument, more flat than rounded, I should say, and smooth rather than rough. No bleeding.”
seem a reasonable inference. I find it difficult to picture a weapon which would leave such signs, though that, again, is your business. On the other hand, the right parietal contusion appears to have been produced by some sort of blunt instrument, more flat than rounded, I should say, and smooth rather than rough. No bleeding.”
“Hit from behind, by a right-handed assailant,” Alec concluded.
“From behind and slightly above.”
Alec frowned. “He's quite tall, isn't he?”
“Five foot eleven and a quarter.”
“Tall enough. Crouching?” Lurking low in the boat-house?
“Bruised hip,” countered Dr. Dewhurst. “He landed on it from more than crouching height.”
“Hmmm. He'd have been knocked unconscious, I assume.”
“Not necessarily. The immediate effect might have been quite insignificant. It was intra-cranial swelling, bleeding, and possibly a blood clot which killed him.”
“So his assailant may not have realised how badly he was injured.”
“I'd be surprised if he wasn't feeling pretty groggy,” the doctor said, “but brain injuries are curious things. It's possible he simply got up and walked away.”
DeLancey could have made his own way from the boat-house to the house, then. “Anything else I ought to consider?” Alec asked. “Will you do the post-mortem, sir?”
“If you wish. I doubt jurisdiction will be disputed in the circumstances, and I have good facilities in Reading. If you
have the body delivered this afternoon, I'll get on to it right away.”
have the body delivered this afternoon, I'll get on to it right away.”
“The sooner the better, I'd say. It's a hot day. If you're doing the post-mortem, perhaps you wouldn't mind notifying your local Coroner? Thank you, Doctor.”
Returning towards the house, Alec was met by the constable he had left at the âphone. “The station rang up, sir,” he reported. “Henley Police Station, I should say. Miss Hopgood's landlady says she made 'em a picnic, her and Mr. Bott, and they was talking of taking a walk up the river, t'ards Marsh Lock.”
“That's away from the Regatta?”
“That's right, sir. The lock's a mile or thereabouts up from the bridge. They wants to know, did you want summun to go after Bott?”
Alec pondered as they entered the house by a side-passage. He didn't see how Bott could possibly have learnt of DeLancey's death, so there was no reason for him to attempt to flee. It would not hurt to have more information before confronting him. Things looked black for the cox. Alec could imagine Frieth or young Fosdyke or Cheringham letting fly with his fists, but to attack someone from behind with a weapon would go against the instincts of a gentleman.
All the same, he should not have let Cheringham return to the house with the girls. He had had every opportunity to destroy evidence.
“Alec!” Daisy came up to him as he crossed the hall towards the library. “I was coming to find you.”
“Ah, Daisy, Bott is expected back here, isn't he?”
A lover-like greeting! she thought, practically trotting to
keep up with his stride. “Yes. He was worried that Aunt Cynthia would expect him to leave once the eight was knocked out of the Thames Cup, but of course she didn't.”
keep up with his stride. “Yes. He was worried that Aunt Cynthia would expect him to leave once the eight was knocked out of the Thames Cup, but of course she didn't.”
“Good.”
“He wanted to stay on because of Miss Hopgood, of course, and it's impossible to get a room in town. When she goes back to London tomorrow evening, he's going off on a walking tour, camping at night, but he left all his stuff here, I know. Leigh rowed him across the riverâthe towpath's a shorter walk than by roadâand they went off straight from breakfast. Alec, I ⦔
“Just a minute, darling. Henley Police are expecting me to ring back.”
Daisy glanced at her wrist-watch. She had a few minutes to spare still. Unabashedly she listened as Alec told the officer on duty it was not necessary to track down Horace Bott.
“But have the beat bobby keep an eye on Miss Hopgood's lodgings, please, and report to me when they come in.” He listened, his face relaxing. “At the railway station? Good. I'll fetch them myself. Can you give me directions and the telephone number?”
“Tring and Piper?” Daisy mouthed at him and he nodded. She waited as he wrote down the number and cut the connection, then she said, “If you're going to drive into the town, you could give me a lift.”
“A lift?” he asked, already dialling again.
“I have an appointment ⦔
“Hullo. This is Detective Chief Inspector Fletcher.”
“ ⦠to meet my friend who ⦔
“That's right. Please tell them I'll pick them up in a quarter of an hour.”
“ â¦is going to present me ⦔
“Yes, thank you.”
“ ⦠to Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester.”
“What's that, Daisy? The Duke of Gloucester?”
“For my article. If I have to walk, I must leave right away or I'll have to hurry and get all hot and sticky. Rollo said he'd drive me, but I imagine you don't want him to leave. It's all right for me to go, isn't it? I'm not a suspect.”
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