The China Governess (35 page)

‘Did you go in?'

‘No. I only opened the door a foot and put my head in. The street lamps shine into that room. I could see him. He was all right. Sleeping like a great grampus. Poor, poor chap.'

‘Don't think of that now. What did you do?'

‘I went back to my seat and watched the detectives fidgeting about across the road. A police car came crawling by and one of them went off after it down the side street. To make his report I expect. There was no one else at all about. We don't have many people pass at night although it's so crowded in the daytime. I might easily have gone to bed then but I didn't. I waited to see the
detective come back and that was why I was still there when the person came again. I could hardly believe it when I saw her, but she went straight into Mr. Basil's room and she was there five or six minutes. Then she came out again.'

‘The same woman as before?'

‘Oh, yes.'

‘Are you sure you could identify her?' In his effort to keep his voice level and in tone Luke exerted so much strength he set the entire group trembling.

‘Well, one never is absolutely sure, not at night, is one? I wasn't sure who it was. I had to satisfy myself. That was why I spoke to her.'

Munday made a little strangled sound deep in his throat and turned it into a cough whilst everybody else held his breath.

‘I said, “Is he all right?” I couldn't think of anything else to say. She didn't jump, she just turned round and came up to me. “There are lights on downstairs” she said. I said “I know: it's all right. How is Mr. Basil?” Miraculously Mrs. Broome's urgent whisper had never faltered but, now, remembered indignation interfered with her clear picture. ‘She said “I never went in”. The cheek of it! “Tim put him to bed”, she said. “I never went in.” Of course I didn't know then what she'd been up to or I'd have given her something to go on with! . . .'

‘Wait.' Luke dropped a hand on her shoulder. ‘Take a deep breath.' He was treating her as he treated child witnesses and she responded, obeying him literally.

‘I've done that.'

‘Right. Now go back. You spoke to her. She answered you. You were sure who it was. When she said she had not been in, what did you do?'

‘I stared. “I thought you had”, I said. “Good night.” Then I sat down again and looked out of the window. She stood there waiting for a second and I thought she was going to explain, but she didn't. She just turned round and went straight back to her room and I stayed where I was, never dreaming he was in that thing.'

‘How long before you looked at him?'

‘Several minutes.' It was an appalled whisper. ‘I sat behind the
curtains getting warmer and warmer. My mind was easy, you see. She hadn't woken him the first time and I didn't expect her to do it on the second. I sat wondering why she'd gone in and why she'd been so silly as to try to pretend she hadn't with me actually sitting there, and I almost dozed!'

‘Never mind, Keep on the ball. When did you look?'

‘After about ten minutes. I'd meant to go down and call the children because they're only young and enough is enough. When I got up I listened at Mr. Basil's door and I couldn't hear him. It was as silent as the grave in there. I didn't think much about it but it did strike me as extraordinary and I wondered if he was lying awake. I opened the door very softly and looked in. The reading lamp was on and there he was, shining like a great pool of water in the bed. I told one of you, didn't I? I lost my head and began to scream and because I knew you were all there outside the window I shouted to you.'

‘Because you thought it was a crime?'

‘No. Because I wanted help. I don't think of policemen as always having to do with crime.'

‘The trusting public,' murmured Mr. Campion under his breath as Luke spoke.

‘You'll have to give us her name,' Luke said gently. ‘Loyalty and long service and the respectability of the house, all those things are important, but not important enough at this point. Who was it Mrs. Broome? Just the name?'

‘It was that old girl who was shouting when I came into the bedroom, wasn't it?' Stockwell could contain himself no longer. ‘What's her name? Aicheson? She's pretending to be absorbed by the attack on the old sister of the householder.'

Nanny Broome stared at him.

‘Oh no,' she said. ‘Miss Aich wouldn't hurt a fly and couldn't without it getting away! No. It was Mrs. Telpher. I should have guessed that without seeing her, once I'd noticed the likeness between Mr. Basil's colour and Miss Saxon's.'

‘Mrs. Telpher? Who's she? I haven't even heard of her!' Stockwell was already half-way to the door and Mrs. Broome's unnaturally quiet voice arrested him.

‘When you first came over the road who let you in, young man?' she demanded. ‘I've been wondering that ever since I came in here. There wasn't anybody else. She must have been going out as you came in. She's bolted. As soon as I spoke she knew she was found out, see? Even if she had been able to get back for the bag before I found him I'd have known she was to blame in the morning when it came out he was dead!'

In the moment of silence while her meaning became clear, there was an abrupt tap on the door and the little doctor came hurrying in, brusque and important.

‘I've an announcement,' he said to nobody in particular. ‘He'll do. He's just spoken. I don't think the brain is impaired. The last thing he remembers is Miss Alison Kinnit bringing him a drink in bed.'

There was a long silence broken by a deep intake of breath by the Chief Inspector.

Luke shrugged his shoulders. ‘That has torn it every which way,' he said. ‘Now what? I'm glad he's alive but I wish he'd stopped talking.'

‘But it
was
Mrs. Telpher who gave him the drink. That was the first thing I noticed.' Nanny Broome was so excited that she was on the verge of incoherence. ‘Miss Julia was with me when we saw her bring the glass upstairs and I mentioned it. I said “She must have half a tumbler of neat spirit there”.' She paused and turned to Luke again with one of the sudden outbursts of utter frankness which were her most alarming characteristic. ‘That was the real reason why I went to her room when she called me to help with the window. She was taking a long woolly dress out of a plastic bag then. I wanted to see if she really had drunk all that stuff. It's not only that I'm inquisitive, but if I'm to look after the house I must know what's going on.'

‘And she hadn't?' Luke pounced on the thread before it got away.

‘No. There it was untouched on the dressing-table. She'd put a tissue over it but you couldn't miss it, it was smelling the place out. Later on, when I saw her taking it in to Mr. Basil, I guessed what she was up to. “You're going to make sure he passes right out
so there won't be any more disturbances tonight” I thought. “You selfish thing! Serve you right if he gets delirium and the whole place turns into a mad-house.” I remember his Papa, you see.'

Luke ignored the historical reference.

‘Can you swear on oath it was Mrs. Telpher you saw in the passage and not Miss Alison Kinnit? They're very alike.'

‘Of course they're alike! That's what muddled Mr. Basil in the state he was in. All the Kinnits are alike; the family flavour is very strong. Their natures are alike. When she tried to put the whole thing on to Mr. Tim she was exactly like any other Kinnit. I thought that at the time.'

‘
When?
' Luke leapt on the flaw. ‘When you were speaking to Mrs. Telpher in the passage you didn't know that anything had happened to Mr. Toberman.'

Nanny Broome's innate honesty shone through the clouds of wool.

‘No, but as soon as I saw Mr. Basil all glistening like that I realized that whatever had happened to him it must be Mrs. Telpher who'd done it, and that she'd clearly meant to put the blame on Tim.
That's why I screamed and called the police
. I'm not very easily upset, you know. I don't scream for nothing. I usually know what I'm doing. Where would Tim and I be now, let me ask you, if I hadn't screamed and you weren't all here but it had been left to the family to decide what story to tell? I knew she'd have to run because I'd spoken to her and she knew I knew who'd been into Mr. Basil's room. She's got away. Good riddance! I've been thinking she would if I gave her time enough.'

‘You be careful what you're saying, Missus!' Munday intervened despite himself. ‘The lady hasn't a chance of getting far. Meanwhile, have you ever heard of an Accessory after the Fact?'

‘Only in tales,' said Mrs. Broome contemptuously. ‘Catch her if you think you can, but don't bring her here near my kiddiewinkies!'

‘Who are they?' Munday was beginning with interest, but Luke signalled to him hastily.

‘Forget it,' he muttered. ‘We've only got one life. Sergeant Stockwell, you ought to have noticed the lady at the door. You
put out the call. Wait a minute. She has a child at St. Joseph's. You might try there first. I think we can take it that she's not normal. It's the old psychiatric stuff. There'll be no very definite motive I mean, and. . . .'

‘I rather think there is, you know.' Mr. Campion, who had taken no part in the proceedings and who had been forgotten by everybody, now ventured to intervene a trifle apologetically.

‘She was the only person who had sufficient motive, or so it seemed to me. Fear is the only adequate spur for that sort of semi-impulsive act, don't you think? Fear of loss. Fear of trouble. Fear of unbearable discovery. Especially when backed by the glimpse of definite gain.'

Luke stared at him.

‘“Oh my prophetic soul”, your telegram!' he said. ‘I might have known! She is not Mrs. Telpher, I suppose?'

‘Oh but she is.' Mr. Campion appeared unhappy. ‘That is her true name and she is the Kinnit niece. The telegram was a reply to, a routine inquiry I made about her through the Petersen agency in Jo'burg.' He paused, looking awkward. ‘It's one of those sad, silly,
ordinary
, explanations which lie behind most criminal acts,' he went on at last. ‘I suppose her secret is the most usual one in the world and she hid it successfully from everybody except Basil Toberman, who is the kind of man who spends his life making sure he is not deceived on that particular point.'

Luke's eyebrows rose to peaks.

‘Money?'

Mr. Campion nodded. ‘I'm afraid so. She simply isn't rich. It is as easy as that. She isn't even badly off, hard up or in straightened circumstances. She is simply not rich. She never has been rich. The deceased Telpher was an accountant but not a financier.'

‘But the Kinnit family must have known this?'

‘Why should they? There are people who make a habit of keeping an eye on the financial positions of their various relatives, but with others, you know, complete ignorance on the subject is almost a cult. Mrs. Telpher was a distant relative. Distant in miles. The Kinnits were aware of her but not at all curious about her. How the idea that she was extremely wealthy was implanted in
their minds originally I do not know. It may have started with some trifling mistake, or be based merely on the simple fact that they are extremely wealthy and she had never let them know that she was not. At any rate, when she had to come to London she found it very easy to make use of them. Her success lay in the fact that she understood them so well. They are all alike. Cold, incurious, comfort-loving and deeply respectful towards money, and yet in an odd inhuman way hospitable and aware of the duties of hospitality.'

‘That woman only lives for one thing and that's cash,' said Mrs. Broome unexpectedly. ‘If she hasn't got a fortune already her main reason for coming here was to make sure of an inheritance when the time came. You can be sure of that! Don't forget she's the only Kinnit relative except for Mr. Tim and she probably thought he ought not to count, being merely adopted. Her idea was to oust him, take it from me. Meantime, here she got her living free, and Miss Saxon's.'

This prosaic thought, which had been in the minds of everybody present, passed entirely without comment.

Luke was still waiting for Mr. Campion, who finished his interrupted statement.

‘The one great risk she took never materialized,' he said. ‘No one insisted on visiting the child. Knowing the family she did not think they would.'

‘I insisted and was soon told where I got off!' the irrepressible Mrs. Broome put in tartly. ‘The poor little mite was “far too ill to see strangers! Doctors' orders.” As if a visit from me would hurt a kiddie!'

Luke flapped a silencing hand at her and continued to watch his friend. ‘Isn't there a child?'

‘Oh, yes, there's a child,' Mr. Campion spoke sadly. ‘And its condition is just as she said – silent, incurable, unconscious. A heartrending sight, too terrible for anyone very close to sit and watch for long. Mrs. Telpher is not very close. She is the governess. She was driving when the accident occurred. She was sent by her employers to London with the child and her nurse, Miss Saxon, when every other hope of cure had failed. The child's name is
Maria Van der Graff. She is registered under it at the hospital. Anyone could have discovered it had they thought to ask.'

The story struck the depressingly familiar note with which true stories ring in the tried ears of experienced policemen. No one queried it. It was in the classic pattern of human weakness, mean and embarrassing and sad. The second note, the high alarum, not so familiar and always important since it indicates the paramount sin in Man's private calendar, took most of them by surprise although they had been well prepared.

‘Attempted murder,' said Luke. ‘She did it to avoid discovery and the failure of her plans, and when she saw she was caught she made a definite attempt to incriminate the young man who stood between her and an inheritance. That covers the present charge.' He hesitated and they waited, the same thought in every mind.