The Riddle at Gipsy's Mile (An Angela Marchmont Mystery 4) (28 page)

‘
She kept it from you because the doctor told her to, not out of spite,
’
said A
ngela.
‘
I believe you do Lucy an injustice, Lady Alice. Perhaps she is not to your taste but I don
’
t think she is deliberately plotting against you. I believe she is very fond of Gil and would hate to see him come to harm
—
indeed, she has said as much to m
e
—
so she is hardly likely to try and hurt you, since to do that would be to hurt him too.
’

‘
I
’
m afraid you don
’
t know what you
’
re talking about,
’
said Lady Alice.
‘
We understand each other very well, she and I,
’
she went on somewhat obliquely. Angela saw th
ere would be no convincing her and determined to waste no more breath in defence of Lucy.

‘
Very well, I shall see to it that you are informed when your son has been found,
’
she said.

‘
Thank you,
’
said Lady Alice.
‘
And now if you would have the goodness to
ring for my maid, I shall bid you good day.
’

Angela left the house, thinking about what Lady Alice had said to her. Did she really trust Lucy so little that she believed her to be lying about Gil? Angela found the relationship between the two women unfatho
mable.

‘
Well, William, it looks as though the cat is out of the bag now, and Lady Alice knows all,
’
she remarked as they drove back along the narrow lanes to Gipsy
’
s Mile.
‘
She must have got wind of what was happening and asked Lucy about it. I wonder Lucy
didn
’
t say anything when I saw her this morning. It
’
s a pity she couldn
’
t have kept the secret.
’

‘
From what I
’
ve heard, the two ladies don
’
t exactly get along,
’
said William,
‘
and now that Lady Alice is so ill maybe Miss Syms thought that if she told her
about Mr. Blakeney it might hurry her along a little, so to speak.
’

‘
Do you mean Lucy was hoping to give Lady Alice another heart attack? Surely not!
’
said Angela, half-laughing.

William cocked his head and looked expressively as though to say,
‘
Stranger t
hings have happened,
’
and Angela paused for a moment to wonder whether it was true. Gil
’
s troubles aside, it would certainly make their lives a little easier to have Lady Alice out of the way. But then she thought of Lucy
’
s open, sensible face and rejecte
d
the thought.

‘
I believe you are becoming a cynic, William,
’
she said.

‘
Maybe I am, ma
’
am,
’
he replied.
‘
But after hearing about all these people who hate each other, who could blame me?
’

Angela glanced at him curiously. There was that word again:
‘
hate.
’
Alvie Berteau had said that someone must have hated Lita to have murdered her, and now William was using the same word in connection with Lucy and Lady Alice. Was hatred really what this case was all about?

Angela arrived back at Gipsy
’
s Mile
to find that Lucy had just left
—
which was something of a relief
—
and that Marguerite had been along to Littlechurch and stood bail for Miles, who had been released, with instructions not to leave the area. He was sitting in his usual easy-chair, looking e
v
en more white and drawn than usual, while Marguerite danced attendance on him, but he managed a smile when Angela came in, and spoke to her in much his usual manner.

‘
I expect you
’
ve heard I
’
ve been rather an idiot,
’
he said.

‘
I
’
ve heard something of the s
ort, yes,
’
replied Angela with a smile.

‘
Of course, it
’
s nothing to the trouble Gil
’
s got himself into, but it
’
s bad enough,
’
he went on.
‘
The police are talking about ten years.
’

‘
Oh, don
’
t, darling,
’
cried Marguerite in distress.
‘
You mustn
’
t think like
that. You did it with the best of intentions, to help a friend.
’

‘
It was very wrong of me,
’
said Miles,
‘
but poor Gil was in such a state I rather lost my head, I think.
’

‘
But what happened, exactly?
’
said Angela.
‘
I mean, I know what you did, but how did
Gil explain the fact of having a dead body to get rid of.
’

‘
Why, the fellow was barely coherent,
’
said Miles.
‘
All I understood from him was that this was some girl he had married years ago, and she
’
d turned up and given him a terrible shock, and now he wa
s terrified that his mother and Lucy would find out and cancel the wedding, when everything had been so neatly organized between them.
’

‘
But where was the body when you arrived at Blakeney Park?
’

‘
In the boot of the Wolseley. He
’
d put her there while he tr
ied to decide what to do. I saw her face and remembered her immediately
—
she had the sort of face one does remember. It was the girl he
’
d taken up with all those years ago in London. I don
’
t know which gave me the bigger shock: the fact that he was married
or the fact that he
’
d apparently killed her, but I can
’
t have been thinking straight or I never should have helped him.
’

‘
Was it you who disfigured her face?
’
said Angela.

Miles winced and shook his head.

‘
No,
’
he said,
‘
but I think it might have been my f
ault. You see, I said we should have to make sure that nobody could identify her if she was found. I meant that we ought to remove all possessions that could be easily traced, but Gil took it rather more literally than that and decided to
—
well, you know w
h
at he did. I
’
m afraid he took a golf club to her. He was dreadfully sick afterwards.
’

‘
This was on the Thursday, was it? That is, the day before we all arrived?
’

‘
Yes. He called me in the afternoon, and I went along and found him shivering on the ground by
the car. He was in a bad way, as a matter of fact. I finally got him to calm down and tell me what had happened, and he opened the boot and showed me the body.
’

‘
But he couldn
’
t tell you how he
’
d killed her?
’

‘
No. He didn
’
t seem to know,
’
said Miles.

‘
How
odd,
’
said Angela, half to herself.

‘
He just kept saying that there would be hell to pay when his mother and Lucy found out. The police appeared to be merely a secondary consideration. At any rate, once we
’
d established that we needed to get rid of Lita,
we sat and waited until later, when darkness had fallen, and did the deed then.
’

‘
Was it your idea to hide her in the undergrowth?
’

‘
Yes,
’
he said.
‘
It was such a beautiful hiding-place. I thought no-one would ever find her there.
’

‘
But I did
—
the very next
day, in fact,
’
said Angela wryly, feeling once again as though she had been responsible for unleashing chaos where previously there had been order.

Freddy now spoke up.

‘
It was just your bad luck that the darling of Scotland Yard happened to be passing, M
iles,
’
he said.

‘
Freddy,
’
said Angela reproachfully, and he looked a little ashamed of himself.

‘
Sorry,
’
he said.
‘
It
’
s a rotten affair, this whole thing, and I don
’
t mind telling you I
’
m not nearly so fond of this reporting business as I was. It
’
s all ver
y well writing stories about the weddings of fatuous aristocrats one
’
s never met before and never shall again, but this
—
well, this feels all wrong. Old Bickerstaffe has sent me down here because of my close connection to the case, and he
’
s expecting me to
get a nice, juicy story out of it, but it sticks in my throat to profit from the misery of friends, especially since it turns out that my own father knew about it all along. I never thought I
’
d find myself in this sort of position.
’

‘
You aren
’
t going to pu
t what
’
s been said just now in the paper, I hope?
’
said Angela, alarmed.

‘
No, of course not,
’
he said.
‘
But I shall have to produce
something
for them, since I
’
m on the inside, so to speak. However, at present the well of inspiration seems to have run dry.
Really, it would be better for all concerned if Gil would do the decent thing and turn himself in. But where the devil can he be? Miles, are you sure you don
’
t have an idea?
’

Miles sighed.

‘
No, none at all,
’
he said,
‘
as I
’
ve already told the police sever
al times. They seemed to think I might know where he went
—
as a matter of fact, it was touch and go as to whether or not they charged me with having helped him do the deed
—
but I assure you I haven
’
t the faintest idea. He might be in Bournemouth or Bulawayo
as far as I know.
’

‘
I wonder, now,
’
murmured Freddy.
‘
Marguerite, might I use the telephone?
’

‘
Why, certainly,
’
said Marguerite.

Freddy wandered out and was gone for a few minutes, then he returned and said that he was going into Littlechurch, to try and s
peak to the police.

‘
Perhaps they will have something to tell me that
’
s tame enough for me to use and yet still worth publishing,
’
he said glumly.
‘
I
’
m sure I saw Corky Beckwith of the
Herald
on the road on my way down here. I shouldn
’
t be surprised if he
’
s stolen a march on me. I warn you all now
—
on no account must you speak to him if you happen to meet him, or if he comes here. He has the morals of a snake and the sting of a wasp, and he
’
ll leave you smarting for weeks if he decides to do a story on you.
I shan
’
t be back for lunch, so do go ahead without me.
’

He went out, looking more serious than Angela had ever seen him, and returned at about half-past two, having succeeded in speaking to Inspector Jameson for a short while.

‘
Well? Have you found out any
thing new?
’
said Angela.

Freddy grimaced.

‘
It
’
s not looking good for old Gil, I
’
m afraid,
’
he said.
‘
The police have been nosing around at Blakeney Park, and they seem to have come up with the goods, all right.
’

‘
Oh?
’
said Angela.

‘
Yes,
’
went on Freddy.
‘
I
don
’
t suppose you know the estate well, but in the grounds there are three or four little cottages which were originally built to house faithful old retainers, gamekeepers, secret mistresses and suchlike. Most of them are inhabited by tenants, but one of
them is presently vacant, and it was there that the police directed their search. You see, it occurred to them that in a grand house such as Blakeney, with its many servants, it would be rather difficult to poison a visitor with arsenic without drawing un
w
elcome and pointed attention from a passing abigail.
’

‘
That is very true,
’
said Angela.

‘
Their theory is that Lita wrote to Gil to tell him she was coming, and that he went to meet her at Hastings station on the Wednesday afternoon, and brought her back to
Blakeney, but not to the great house
—
the idea being that he slipped her the poison and put her somewhere out of the way while it did its work. So, yesterday they went to this cottage, which is situated in some woods not far from the house, and searched i
t
thoroughly. According to Jameson, the house has only two rooms and is small but smartly and comfortably furnished, and there is no reason why a guest of the Blakeneys might not be put up there for a night or two.
’

He paused.

‘
Go on,
’
said Angela.

‘
Well, t
he police did their stuff in the usual fashion and searched the place from top to bottom. The cottage was almost immaculate
—
but not quite. The linen on the bed was fresh, and the place had evidently been scrubbed clean fairly recently, so for a good while
they thought they wouldn
’
t be able to find anything useful
—
or perhaps that there was nothing to find. However, when they examined the bed more closely, they discovered several blonde hairs with dark roots trapped in a crack in the wooden headboard.
’

‘
Did t
hey, now?
’
said Angela thoughtfully.

‘
Now, those hairs may have a quite innocent explanation, but then there is the fact of the poison. I suppose you are aware that poisoning by arsenic tends to give one something of an upset stomach, to say the very least
, so in theory, if Lita did indeed spend the night in that cottage as the police were assuming, then she ought to have left plenty of traces of it.
’