Death of a Commuter (25 page)

“You were taking serious risks, Deene,” said Mr. Gorringer reproachfully. “Of both your own life and … others.”

Carolus went on rather hurriedly.

“I was lucky enough to obtain a room in the boarding-house owned by Catford's aunt in which he lived. I learned a great deal about that young man—excellent material for neo-nazi recruitment. My miscalculation was in respect of Rumble. I thought he would have the sense to hand over the money, however much it was. That was the only way in which I could account for those few days' delay. If he had done so it would have meant that I could go at last to the police with a case of murder and one of blackmail neatly tied up. But Rumble and Elspeth had decided otherwise. They did not believe themselves suspected of anything, for I had maintained the friendliest relations with Elspeth. In that case there would be nothing in the world to connect either of them with the murder of Catford, and their dream of life together would come true.

“It was decided that Rumble should do this alone. He telephoned to the number Catford had given him, his aunt's, and told Catford he was ready to hand over. Catford himself was wary enough to take no chances of hidden tape-recorders or witnesses and arranged the meeting at the Great Ring. He set off on his motor-cycle and I followed, but was unfortunately delayed by a car parked in front of mine. I smashed its window and got away as fast as possible but was too late. I arrived to see the vicar's car, which Rumble had stolen for the purpose, coming out of the lane from the Great Ring. I found that Catford had been shot through the back of the head while he had been lifting his motor-cycle on its stand.

“Back in Brenstead I stopped only to confirm that it was the vicar's car that had been used and learn from his wife that Hopelady had been in bed with flu since yesterday afternoon.
That could, of course, be checked with the doctor …”

“It has been,” said Hemingway quietly.

“I then went to report the finding of Catford's body to the police. My report was received with a certain scepticism, perhaps because the registration number of the motor-cycle was the one I had given when I was trying to trace Catford.”

“You could scarcely expect anything else, Mr. Deene.”

“I didn't. But I had to make my report credible enough for a police car to go out at once.”

“Which it did, of course. You will probably be surprised to know that James Rumble has already been charged with the murder of George Catford.”

Mr. Gorringer could not keep silence.

“
I
am surprised, at all events! This will be the first time I have known one of Deene's theories actually anticipated!”

“It has nothing to do with Mr. Deene's theories. Police work is less complicated than that, and more practical, perhaps. We do not look for these elaborate theories based on instincts, intuitions and so on, but we do have our simple methods of procedure. James Rumble was seen returning the vicar's car to its place by a very observant witness, Miss Nora Limpole, which set in motion other enquiries, finger-print tests and so on. Rumble has already made a statement His chief object seems to be to take all the blame on himself. Not,” added Haggard patronisingly, “that yours has not been a very interesting story, Mr. Deene.”

“He can't take all the blame himself,” said Carolus. “I was about to tell you that after I had reported to the police I went to the Old Manor. Rumble's coat was hanging in the hall, but Elspeth said he was ‘staying in for an early night'. Clearly he had come to report and was somewhere in the house. I felt his presence and knew that if I gave any indication that I knew the truth I should have had it On the contrary, I said that I had abandoned the case and Catford had taken his secrets to the grave. I've never in my life felt nearer to an unpleasant death.”

“I hope you never
are
nearer, my dear Deene. But I'm bound to point out that such risks come of meddling in affairs which
the police are perfectly capable of handling without your intervention.”

“Not at all. They knew that Rumble killed Catford, that's all. They did not know why. They did not know that he and Elspeth also killed Felix Parador.”

“We don't know that now, Mr. Deene. You have provided us with some very interesting possibilities. That is all There is no proof.”

“Oh,
proof?
said Carolus, almost contemptuously. “I leave that to you. You have all the facilities. Proof is a technical matter.”

“Which follows in the wake of inspiration; is that it, Mr. Deene?” said Hemingway, smiling grimly. “You may be right. But it would never do for us to start thinking like that What you have done here is to suggest a possible motive for the murder of Catford. It is not unlikely that we should have had that within twenty-four hours. We haven't yet gone through Catford's papers.”

The two detective-inspectors rose to leave. Carolus sank back exhausted in his chair.

“You think they will act on your excellent suggestions?” queried Mr. Gorringer.

“It's not a matter of that. The whole thing follows automatically now. Elspeth and Rumble will both get life sentences of course.”

“For murder,” Mr. Gorringer reminded him.

“For a very cruel and pitiless murder and for a savage and ruthless one.”

“Then what is troubling you?”

“Not any injustice. The sentence will be most just. But something else. You know, when I met them, they both seemed such thoroughly
nice
people.”

“I catch your drift” said Mr. Gorringer nodding solemnly. “You mean that what we call nice people may not be nice at all. May, in fact, be …”

“Murderers,” said Carolus wearily and emptied his glass at a gulp.