The Darke Chronicles (11 page)

At around ten o’clock, Luther Darke picked Carla up for their appointment with Inspector Thornton at Scotland Yard. As they journeyed in the cab, Carla announced, somewhat breathlessly, ‘I’ve received some information this morning which could be very helpful in solving the murder.’

‘And so have I,’ grinned Darke, holding up a small suitcase.

‘Well then, we need to exchange ideas before we meet Edward.’

‘I agree. So give me your news. I am all aquiver with anticipation.’

Carla pursed her lips in mock disapproval at Darke’s sarcasm. ‘You’re not the only one who can play detective, you know,’ she said tartly.

‘I’m aware of that, my dear. Now tell me what you know … what have you discovered?’

‘Well, I just cannot accept that burglary nonsense last night. I believe Mrs Stone was murdered for a reason, and the mess downstairs was meant to make it look like a burglary.’

‘That’s how I see matters, also.’

‘I also believe that Stone is involved in the murder. I’m not sure in what way, and how he managed to carry it out, but I think I have discovered a motive.’

‘Go on.’

‘I rang a friend of mine this morning, a fellow who works on one of the financial papers in the city. I asked him if he knew anything of the fortunes of Charles Stone. Did he! He knew quite a bit about our grumpy diner. Apparently Stone has been involved in several disastrous deals recently and he is heading for bankruptcy. His cachet in the City is at zero. And what is more, it is rumoured that his relations with his wife, his third by the way, were far from harmonious.’

‘Interesting,’ said Darke.

‘So … if you’ve got a fat insurance policy on your wife, the wife you don’t care for any more, all you have to do is bump her off, collect the cash and save your own financial skin.’

‘You would have to be a cold, calculating demon to do that.’

‘Well, he is, isn’t he? Look at the way he behaved in the restaurant last night…’

‘That hardly condemns him as a murderer.’

‘No … but you know of his reputation as well.’

Darke nodded. ‘Of course. I was just playing Devil’s advocate. We are obviously thinking along the same lines. In fact, the motive was one of the missing pieces in my theory, and your idea is credible.’

‘Credible! It’s more than probable.’

‘But is it possible? Remember, our friend Stone was in the restaurant last night, round about the time his wife was murdered, and then we saw him being attacked on the way home. How could
he have killed her? She’d been dead less than half an hour at the most when we got there.’

Carla slumped back in her seat with a sigh. ‘I don’t know how. I … I just know he did it.’

Darke chuckled and placed his hand on hers. ‘Of course he did it. And I know how.’

The interview at Scotland Yard with Charles Stone was a fruitless affair. He claimed a certain amnesia concerning the ‘terrible events of the previous evening’ and could tell them nothing that they did not already know. Somewhat angry and frustrated, Thornton was at a loss as to what to do next when Luther Darke made his dramatic announcement.

‘I believe that I can settle this matter once and for all and bring the murderer of Mrs Stone to justice. For this, we must return to Leonardo’s restaurant late this afternoon.’

At dusk that day Luther Darke, Carla, Inspector Edward Thornton, Sergeant Grey and Charles Stone gathered in the main dining room of Leonardo’s restaurant. The owner was also present, and he looked most unhappy. ‘I hope this won’t take long Inspector, I am due to open my restaurant in half an hour. I don’t want my customers to know the police have been here. That will not be very good for business.’

‘I’m hoping that it won’t take long either,’ said Thornton, uneasy about agreeing to this meeting. Darke had been infuriatingly secretive about it, only assuring him that it would clear up ‘this nasty business’ once and for all.

‘I presume there is a good reason for all of this,’ snapped Stone brusquely. The grieving widower of the previous evening had
disappeared altogether and in his place was the rude, irritable curmudgeon Darke and Carla had first encountered in the restaurant the previous evening.

‘This is Mr Darke’s idea, and it had better be a good one,’ Thornton observed dryly, throwing his friend a glance.

Luther Darke’s eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘I don’t believe it will be a waste of anyone’s time. I just wanted to demonstrate how Mr Charles Stone here carried out the murder of his wife.’

‘Why you blackguard,’ roared Stone, who rushed forward, fists clenched in readiness to attack Darke.

Sergeant Grey stepped forward to restrain him. ‘Let him have his say, sir.’

‘It’s outrageous. He’s telling lies,’ Stone cried, wriggling under his restraint.

‘I’ll be the judge of that, Mr Stone,’ said Thornton. ‘Now, Luther, can you please get to the point?’

Darke stepped forward and gave a little bow, as though he was about to give a performance. ‘It is no secret that Mr Stone is in great need of money. Also, it is a fact that there is a very large insurance policy on his wife’s life, which will provide him with more than the necessary funds to salvage his business.’

Stone was about to object again, but Grey’s firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

‘So much for a motive to remove the lady. But what about the modus operandi? That was, if I may say so, quite ingenious. Mr Stone dined here in this restaurant last night. He arrived shortly after Carla and I did, around ten o’clock. We certainly knew he was here, as did all the other customers, because of his noisy complaints and obstreperous behaviour. He was, by his ostentatious and dramatic performance, making certain that many people would remember him, thus establishing his alibi. However, he did disappear for a short time to visit the lavatory. Now gentlemen, if you’d be kind enough to come with me to the lavatories, I can explain more easily what happened next.’

‘I’m coming, too,’ said Carla.

‘Of course,’ agreed Darke.

Once the group had assembled in the small room, Luther Darke indicated a window at the rear of the dank chamber. ‘This is generally kept unlocked and…’ – he opened the window wide – ‘…it would be easy enough for a man to slip out of this aperture. Stone lives less than five minutes’ walk away from here, less if you run. I have timed the journey. He need only have been absent from the restaurant for about fifteen minutes at the most, giving him time to go home, murder his wife and create an impression of a burglary before returning, climbing back in through the window. He would hardly be missed. No one times someone’s visit to the urinal.’ Darke laughed at this final observation, but no one else did.

‘One other point which Mr Stone overlooked,’ he continued. ‘When we arrived at his house last night, the door was ajar and yet there was no sign of a forced entry. Obviously Stone had let himself into his quarters to carry out his plan.’

Stone said nothing, but merely glowered at Darke, his eyes bulging with hatred.

Luther Darke then led the party outside the restaurant. It was now almost dark and the stars were starting to break through the deepening blue of night.

‘For the next part of my demonstration, I must disappear for a moment. In the meantime, Carla will take up the story.’ So saying, Darke turned on his heel and at some speed raced up the hill, carrying with him his small suitcase. All eyes turned to Carla.

‘After Mr Stone had created his alibi in the restaurant, he went one step further to strengthen it and establish his innocence. For this, he required a witness. As luck would have it, he secured two: Luther and myself. When he saw us about to leave the restaurant, he pushed passed us, ensuring that he was out onto the street first. On departing Leonardo’s, we saw what we thought was Mr Stone being attacked about halfway up the hill.’ Carla pointed up the street, and then placing two fingers in her mouth, she emitted
a shrill whistle. As she did so, two figures appeared on the bend of the hill at the exact spot where Stone had been attacked the night before. The figures, just touched by the rays of the gas lamp, appeared to be involved in a ferocious struggle. ‘Help, murder!’ cried one of them.

‘My God, what’s happening?’ cried Sergeant Grey.

‘Come along and we’ll show you,’ said Carla leading the way.

The group moved quickly up the hill towards the struggling figures. As they drew near, they could see that one of the men was in fact Luther Darke, while the other was not a man at all.

‘Meet my assailant,’ announced Darke grandly. ‘It’s a stuffed dummy – a bundle of rags in the rough shape of a man, rather like a children’s Guy on bonfire night but very convincing from a distance, eh? In shadow and silhouette from some yards away, this bundle of rags takes on the illusion of being a real man, a real assailant. When Stone had caught our attention with his histrionics, he slipped around the bend in the hill and quickly disposed of the dummy in an old box which he had secreted down the alley there. So by the time I arrived on the scene, his assailant had gone: the disappearing man.’

‘Thus the alibi was strengthened,’ explained Carla. ‘The poor man had been attacked on his way home. He could have been murdered. He was a victim, too, just like his wife. Then, at his request, we walked him home, so that we would discover his dead wife’s body with him. He was leaving nothing to chance.’

‘It’s a pack of damned lies,’ cried Stone, but there was no conviction in the voice.

‘It was just your misfortune, Mr Stone,’ said Darke, ‘that unwittingly you involved my services in your nefarious schemes. I am rather adept at illusions myself.’

Stone made a move to run, but Sergeant Grey blocked his way.

‘Clap the darbies on him and get him back to the Yard,’ said Inspector Thornton.

A tirade of obscenities escaped Stone’s lips as Grey handcuffed him.

‘A
very neat job, Luther,’ grinned Thornton, patting his old friend on his back. ‘How did you work it out?’

‘Strangely, the use of a dummy instead of a real man is a ploy used by Merlin the Magnificent in one of his illusions in his stage act at the theatre down the road. It is a case of devious minds thinking alike.’

‘And who is Merlin the Magnificent?’ asked Thornton with some puzzlement.

‘Let’s say that he’s a close friend of mine, Edward.’

At these words, both Darke and Carla burst into laughter, much to the confusion of their friend.

David Stuart Davies left teaching to become editor of
Sherlock Magazine
and is generally regarded as an expert on Sherlock Holmes, having written six novels, film books and plays featuring the character. He has given presentations on Holmes at many festivals and conferences as well as on board the
Queen Mary II
. He appeared as toastmaster at the Sherlock Holmes Dinner at Bloody Scotland in 2012 – Scotland’s first international crime writing festival. He also created his own detective, wartime private eye Johnny Hawke, who has appeared in six novels. David’s latest detective thriller,
Brothers in Blood
(The Mystery Press, 2013), is set in the north of England in the 1980s and introduces Detective Chief Inspector Paul Snow. He has just completed the second in this series,
Innocent Blood
. David is a member of the national committee of the Crime Writers Association, editing their monthly magazine
Red Herrings
. He lives in Huddersfield, West Yorkshire.