Death Comes to Cambers (7 page)

‘I don't think so,' Farman answered. ‘Not that I know of.'

Moulland had been putting down on the writing-table various objects he had been carrying. Among them was the fountain-pen Bobby had found on the scene of the murder. While Moulland was saying something to the chief constable, Bobby turned down the handkerchief in which it was still enveloped and showed it to Farman.

‘This wasn't hers, was it?'

‘Oh, no, sir. That's Eddy Dene's,' the butler answered at once. ‘A present from her ladyship, I believe.'

His tone as he said this was so markedly non-committal that Bobby glanced at him sharply, but, before he could say anything, Colonel Lawson turned round.

‘What's that?' he asked. ‘The pen – belongs to young Dene, you say?'

‘Well, sir, I couldn't be sure, sir,' Farman answered. ‘But it looks very like it, sir – very like it indeed; very much like one her ladyship gave him herself, sir, for a present.'

His tone was still so markedly non-committal that both Lawson and Moulland seemed to notice it. They exchanged glances, and Lawson, after a moment's hesitation, said: ‘We'll go into that later. I would like to hear what you know, first, of what happened last night.'

It was not much Farman had to tell. He had locked up after Eddy Dene left at half-past ten. He was quite clear that he had securely locked and bolted every door. He had finished his task a little after eleven. He was quite sure Lady Cambers was then in her room, and he had seen her go up to bed about eleven, while the rain was still falling heavily. She had commented on the downpour to him, as she passed him in the hall, and he thought, now, she seemed a little worried or bothered over its being so unusually heavy. After that he had not seen her again. He had gone to his own room on the ground floor, next the pantry. Lady Cambers liked him to sleep there, as a kind of safeguard for the silver against burglars. He had not gone to bed at once. He had sat at his open window, reading the paper and smoking his pipe, till quite late – one o'clock perhaps. He wasn't sure. He hadn't noticed the time. But he had neither seen nor heard anything out-of-the-way, and when he had gone to bed he had gone to sleep at once, and not wakened till his usual time in the morning. It had all been a tremendous shock to him, and he couldn't understand it in the least.

Lawson asked one or two questions, and inquired about Lady Cambers's keys. Did she always keep them herself, or did she ever trust them to anyone else?

Farman was quite clear and emphatic in his assertion that his mistress was always most careful with them and never let them out of her possession. If they had not been found in her hand-bag, he could not imagine what had become of them. The chief constable opened a drawer of the writing-table, and took a bunch of keys that he had seen lying just within.

‘What about these?' he asked.

Apparently very much surprised, Farman came nearer to look at them more closely.

‘That's them, sir, all right,' he declared, blinking at them in the same surprised manner. ‘I don't know what they are doing there, sir.'

Bobby, too, drew closer to look, and thought that he also recognized them as those of Lady Cambers he himself had noticed she was always careful to keep in her own possession. He remembered that string or column of figures that had caught Colonel Lawson's attention, and, going across to the safe, had a look at the combination lock. Farman was still expressing surprise over the keys.

‘Her ladyship was always most careful and particular about them, sir,' he was saying. ‘I've never known her put them in a drawer – never.'

‘It seems she did this time, for some reason,' Lawson remarked. ‘Do you know which is the key of the safe? Or the combination? It's a combination lock in figures, I think, not letters.'

Farman seemed equally uninstructed on both points.

‘Key no good unless we know the right combination,' observed Lawson, and Bobby ventured to make a suggestion, indicating the leather-bound blotting-book as he did so.

‘There's a row of figures someone jotted down there,' he said. ‘Always five figures, and all struck out except the last. I was wondering if they could be the numbers of the combination Lady Cambers put down in case she forgot?'

‘It's just a chance, we might try,' agreed Lawson, and Farman remarked: ‘There was a difficulty, sir, about a year ago, when her ladyship did forget. We had to get a man down from the makers, and I remember her ladyship saying, afterwards, she would always make a note of the number when she changed the combination.'

‘Just like a woman trying to be businesslike,' commented the chief constable, with considerable injustice. ‘Gets a first-class safe and sets the lock all right, and then leaves the key and a note of the combination all handy.'

‘I never knew her leave her keys about before, sir,' Farman said again. ‘Her ladyship was always most particular.'

‘Well, she did this time,' repeated Lawson, impatiently, fitting the keys one after the other to the lock of the safe till he found the right one. ‘The jewellery is kept here, I understand?'

‘Yes, sir. Her ladyship liked to have it where she could get it when she wanted.'

‘Was it valuable?'

‘I understood it was worth twenty or thirty thousand pounds, sir,' the butler answered cautiously. ‘Especially the Cleopatra pearl there was so much talk about.'

The chief constable whistled softly as, having by now hit on the right key, he opened the safe. Within he found a good many papers and documents of one kind and another, a cash-box, containing twenty or thirty pounds in notes and change, but no sign of any jewels.

‘Are you sure the jewellery was kept here?' Lawson asked the butler.

‘Yes, sir. It was always understood so, sir. Everyone knew that was where it was kept,' Farman answered. He was looking over the chief constable's shoulder. It seemed he could not believe his eyes. He muttered, half to himself: ‘Now then... now then... it's been took.'

With a touch of animation in his generally somewhat stolid manner, Moulland exclaimed: ‘That's what the suitcase was for. That's why it was empty when it was found.'

‘Yes,' said Lawson. ‘Yes. Yes. Only we can't be sure... dashed odd.'

‘What for should she take all her jewels out in a suit-case at that time of night?' Farman burst out suddenly.

‘Well, if they aren't here, and if they were here, same as you say, where are they?' retorted Moulland.

‘May have something to do with that fellow in the rhododendrons,' mused Colonel Lawson. ‘Suggests the motive for the murder, of course, only how... who... why...?'

He was looking hard at the butler as he spoke, and it was easy to see what suspicions were running in his mind. Farman, more obviously agitated and disturbed even than before, was beginning to perspire gently. He said: ‘Begging your pardon, sir, I think I ought to say I came, when Emmers told me she couldn't find her ladyship, to see if she was here, and she wasn't, and there was a tray on the table with a plate and glass, as if someone had been partaking of refreshment. The glass smelt of brandy, which her ladyship never took, so at first I thought perhaps Eddy Dene had had some, only, if he had, her ladyship must have served him herself, which isn't likely, and, besides, she would have had to go and find the brandy. If I may say so, sir, it looks to me as if someone else was here late, and her ladyship let him in and let him out again herself, without any of us knowing.'

They all listened with interest. It was evident this was a new fact of importance. Lawson said quickly: ‘Have you the tray and glass? Can you find them?'

‘I'll see, sir,' Farman answered. ‘I gave them to one of the maids to take into the kitchen. Emmers wanted to herself, but I told her to see if she could find her ladyship, knowing nothing then.'

‘Better go with him, Moulland,' the chief constable said. ‘There may be finger-prints.'

Moulland and Farman went off together, leaving Bobby alone with Colonel Lawson. After a pause, Lawson said: ‘Do you know anything about this jewellery? Looks bad, if it's really missing.'

‘I understood it was valuable,' Bobby answered, ‘and that it was kept in the safe here, and that was why Lady Cambers was nervous when she heard a stranger was in the village asking a lot of questions and mooching about here, trying to make friends with the maids.'

‘That'll have to be looked into,' Lawson said. ‘Did he get on friendly terms with any of them, do you know?'

‘I don't think so, sir. I don't think they liked his looks very much. He may have met the gardener or the chauffeur in the pub here. I believe Miller – that's the chauffeur – is a kind of local darts champion, and this man I'm speaking of used to play darts a lot. He was supposed to be looking for a cottage and land to buy, but I don't think many people believed that.'

‘It'll have to be looked into,' the chief constable repeated. ‘Sounds a bit queer. Only, I don't see how it hangs together. What made Lady Cambers go out so late without letting anyone know? How was it all the doors were locked in the morning? – that is, if the butler is telling the truth. Then, who was hiding in the rhododendrons long after the murder had been committed – and why? And who was Lady Cambers giving brandy to after Dene left her? Or was it Lady Cambers having a drink herself, to screw up her courage before she went out? If there are any finger-prints on the tray or glass, they may help us.'

Moulland and Farman came back without tray or glass or plate.

‘All washed up and put away,' Moulland reported. ‘One of the maids, Amy Emmers, says she remembers doing it. Says she thought they ought to be got out of the way. Farman says it wasn't her work to wash anything up, and he never remembers her doing anything of the kind before.'

There was  little pause then, as if they were all considering the implications of this piece of information. Colonel Lawson scowled and frowned and breathed heavily, unwonted mental exertion betraying itself in evident physical signs. Superintendent Moulland took out an enormous pocket-book and made a careful entry in it, and Bobby read over slowly and attentively the full shorthand note he was taking. A little with the air of an actor repeating a gesture that has already won much applause, Farman said: ‘I think I perhaps ought to mention there was a scene between her ladyship and Emmers, Wednesday last week. Something Emmers had done must have greatly annoyed her ladyship. It was after breakfast. One of the maids came and told me. She said she could hear Lady Cambers shouting at Emmers and Emmers answering back, and there must be something wrong. I told her at once it was no business of hers and she had best get on with her work, and' – Farman hesitated for a moment, and then continued – ‘I felt it was my duty, me being responsible for the discipline of the staff, to be on hand if required. So I proceeded towards this room where Robins – the maid who told me about it – said they were, and certainly you could hear them both distinctly – not what they were saying exactly, you understand, gentlemen.' Again Farman paused, this time to allow his features to express horror and disgust at the mere thought of even involuntary eavesdropping. ‘Besides, they were both speaking at once – fair shouting at each other, and then Emmers rushed out and up to her own room as fast as she could, so we all thought she was packing to leave. But after a time there she was down again, going on with her work just as usual, and inclined to be insolent when asked what was the matter.'

‘Do you think it likely she had been given notice?' the chief constable asked.

‘I couldn't say, sir, I'm sure,' Farman answered. ‘Everything seemed to go on just the same. Everyone noticed how Emmers had been crying, but, as cook said to me, she only bit your head off if you said anything. Of course, it wasn't my place to inquire, her ladyship not saying a word.'

‘You are sure you didn't catch anything that was said; even a single word or phrase might be useful?' Lawson asked.

‘No, sir,' the butler repeated, with visible regret. ‘Shouting they were, and both at the same time, and Emmers giving as good as she got, if you ask me. Most disrespectful Emmers sounded. I made sure – we all did – her ladyship would pack her off at once. But it all seemed to blow over.'

‘I think we must hear what she has to say herself,' the chief constable decided. ‘But first we might have a word with the maid who told you about it.'

‘The first housemaid, Robins, sir,' Farman answered. ‘Shall I tell her you want her, sir?'

‘Yes, tell her we would like to see her at once,' Lawson said, and for the life of him, discipline or no discipline, Bobby could not help putting down his note-book, and saying: ‘Shall I go, sir? You meant me?'

‘Yes, all right, you go and find her,' Lawson agreed, and whether he thought it a matter of indifference who went to find the girl, or whether he had taken the hint and realized it would be better to hear the girl's story before Farman had any opportunity of influencing her one way or another, involuntarily or otherwise, Bobby never knew.

At any rate, Bobby was through the door and outside before Farman had even begun to move, and as the door closed behind him Bobby heard Colonel Lawson again addressing to the butler some question that did not sound very important.

‘Good/ Bobby thought, knowing as he did how easily people's memories and ideas are affected by those of others. ‘That'll keep him out of the way till I've got hold of this Robins girl.'

He found his way to the servants' hall, discovered the first housemaid, and brought her back with him. Farman, warned not to say anything to Amy Emmers, was thereupon dismissed, and Miss Robins was asked if she remembered anything to indicate any dissatisfaction with Amy Emmers on the part of Lady Cambers.