Roger Sheringham and the Vane Mystery (29 page)

“But wait a minute!” Roger interrupted. “You’re wrong there, Inspector. It
could
have been put there by Mrs Vane. I found out that Meadows only smoked his pipes a week at a time, remember!”

The inspector’s expression was more pitying than chagrined. “Yes, but did you find out when he changed them, Mr Sheringham, sir? I did, you see. On Sunday mornings. So it couldn’t have been Mrs Vane after all. It was somebody who came during that previous night, while he was asleep. It wasn’t the doctor, because he’d never have put the stuff in the tobacco; there’s no conceivable reason why it should have been Miss Williamson; it
must
have been Miss Cross. But there again there’s no absolute proof.”

“Well,” said Roger, “I’ll be damned!”

The inspector helped himself with an absent air from the bottle of whisky which stood, flanked by a couple of syphons, on a small table at his elbows. He sipped his drink thoughtfully.

“And you’re not going to apply for a warrant?” Roger asked, when all this had sunk into him. “You’re going to let her get away with it?”

The inspector allowed a little whisky to sink into him. “No help for it, I’m sorry to say. We could never get a conviction. As I said, I think you’ll find that the verdict next Thursday will be suicide, and we shall let it rest at that; the verdict of accidental death on Mrs Vane as well. It isn’t the first time this has happened, you know. There’s any number of people walking about today, free men and women, that we
know
to be murderers, but we can’t prove it to the satisfaction of a court.”

“Yes, I know that, of course,” Roger nodded. “Legal proof is a very different thing from moral conviction. Well, I must say I’m not sorry. They were two distinctly unpleasant specimens of humanity of which she ridded the world, and I should be sorry to hear of her hanging for them. But – poor Colin!”

“Be thankful she hasn’t got into your own family, Mr Sheringham, sir,” replied the inspector philosophically. “And I dare say she won’t make him a bad wife when all’s said and done. It was his money she was after, of course; now she’s got that, and an established position, she may settle down all right.”

“Not the sort of wife I’d choose myself for all that,” Roger said with a little shiver. “Yes, she must have been after his money, I suppose. As no doubt Mrs Vane was before her.”

“No, sir,” said the inspector meditatively. “I’m inclined to think Mrs Vane wasn’t; I think she was genuinely fond of the boy. Margaret knew about her affair with him, of course, and that was another reason for wanting her out of the way. That’s why the engagement was kept so secret too. She knew her cousin would never give him up to her, and would certainly cut her out of her will as well. By the way, it may interest you to know that the doctor’s marriage settlement is invalidated, as Mrs Vane was never his legal wife; I had the wording looked into and a legal opinion taken. So the girl doesn’t get that ten thousand after all.”

‘ “Much Ado About Nothing’,” Roger commented ironically.

“Or ‘The Dead Hand’,” smiled the inspector. “That was a good title of yours after all, sir, because it was the button in Mrs Vane’s dead hand that makes the whole thing so certain.”

Roger stifled a yawn and looked at his watch. “Good Heavens, do you know it’s past two, Inspector? We’d better get to bed. Though whether I shall sleep very much is another question. All this is a little upsetting, you must understand. By Jove,” he added as he rose to his feet, “do you know, even now I can hardly believe that she did it!”

The inspector smiled at him tolerantly as he also rose. “Because she looked pretty and innocent, and you thought at one time she might be going to make a match of it with your cousin, sir? Because you saw her, in fact, as the pretty little heroine of one of your own books?”

“I suppose so,” Roger admitted.

The inspector patted him on the shoulder with a large and consoling hand. “Do you know what’s the matter with you, sir?” he said kindly. “You’ve been reading too many of those detective stories.”