The Silk Stocking Murders (27 page)

“Any other sort of French method?”

“A trap!” Roger mused. “We ought to set a trap for him. If he can’t be found out, he must be made to give himself away.
How?”

“They debated this matter in silence.

Suddenly Roger halted in his stride. “Supposing,” he said slowly, “supposing we staged a—— Could it be done? Good Lord, I do believe it could. It’s a horrible risk, but really… Well, it all depends on Anne. I must… Oh, yes, I think that might work. It’s our only possible chance, anyway.”

“What, Roger?” Newsome asked, bulging with curiosity.

“Another leaf from the French notebook. Look here, run along and ask Anne to come in here, Jerry, will you? And then stop in the other room and make charming conversation to Moira. Everything depends on what Anne’s got to say.”

“But what
is
the idea, man?”

“I’ll tell you when I’ve talked to Anne. Quick, Jerry, I’m simply bursting with excitement.”

“Roger, you are the most irritating devil,” grumbled Mr. Newsome, but went.

In a moment Anne arrived. Roger, sitting on the edge of the table, contemplated her with professional rather than human interest. Yet the human interest she might have been expected to arouse was quite strong.

“You wanted me, Roger?” she said.

“Yes. How are you feeling now, Anne? Pretty well recovered?”

“Oh, yes, thank you. My head still aches a bit, and my throat is a little sore, but otherwise I’m quite recovered.”

“I wonder what you’ll be feeling like to-morrow morning,” Roger said.

“Perfectly all right, I should imagine. Why?”

Roger got up and conducted her with ceremony to a chair. “Sit down, Anne. We’ve got to hold very serious converse. I want you to realise this first of all: as long as this man is at liberty and unsuspected, your life, to put it frankly, isn’t worth fourpence. In fact, I put it at a halfpenny to Jerry just now.”

“Oh!” said Anne, wide-eyed.

“Moreover, if he isn’t laid by the heels actually by midday to-morrow, your Jerry will be arrested; and I can tell you that once a suspect is arrested it’s no easy matter to get him released.”

Anne nodded. “Yes?”

“Well, it seems to me that it’s up to us to get him before it’s too late. You and I, Anne. We’re the only ones who can do it. And neither of us can do it without the other. Most of all, I can’t do it without you. No,” Roger corrected himself, “that’s not true. I could with Moira, I suppose. But we’ll talk about that later.”

“Oh! You’ve got a plan, Roger?”

“I have, my child. A perfect brute of a plan. I hate and loathe my plan, but I’m blessed if I can see another. And it ought, with any luck at all, to work. But before I tell it you, I want to make this clear. If this man remains at liberty, not only you, but dozens of other girls are in deadly danger. You realise that?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I want to ask you this question; in order to provide me with a chance (and it’s only a chance, mind) of catching the beast, are you prepared to risk your life?”

“Yes, Roger.”

“I don’t mean a slight risk. I mean a really dangerous risk, with the chances possibly balanced against you. I shall take every possible precaution, naturally, but there aren’t many I can take. You must realise that first of all.”

“Roger,” Anne said earnestly, “at present I’ve only got one aim before me. I’ve left home to achieve it; I’ve planted myself in a new world which I really don’t like at all; I display myself ever night in public in the minimum amount of clothing the censor will allow, which I simply detest—and all to gain my object, the discovery of my sister’s murderer. Of course I’ll take any risk you like.”

“Anne,” said Roger fervently, “I am about to kiss you.” And he did so.

“So now,” said the blushing Anne, having been duly kissed, “perhaps you’ll tell me what this plan of yours is.”

Roger did so. But this time he was careful not to mention his supposed identification of the murderer. It was an important part of his plan that Anne should be in ignorance of who her attacker had been. If Roger shared his suspicions with her, she could hardly avoid the infinitesimal gesture or glance that would put him on his guard; and the whole point of Roger’s plot was surprise.

Anne listened intently. “Why,” she said, when he had finished, “there’s no danger in that.”

“You think so?” said Roger grimly. “And supposing I didn’t rescue you in time, or there was a struggle, or anything unforeseen happened?”

“I shall be quite content,” said Anne, “to trust myself entirely to you, Roger.”

“You darling!” said Roger. “But you realise that it’s going to be quite damnably uncomfortable, to put it at the very least? I may have to leave you till you’ve actually lost consciousness, if the psychological moment doesn’t arrive before, you know.”

“Oh, it’ll be horrible, of course,” Anne said, with a prim little smile. “I shall simply hate it at the time, and probably I shall be quite unnecessarily frightened as well. But none of that matters. If you think there’s a good chance of catching him in this way, then you can do just what you like with me. Besides,” she added in a lower tone, “just think of all the other lives I may be able to save through a few minutes’ discomfort.”

They discussed the details for some time, and then Anne was ordered off to bed. Moira, who was far too excited by all these stirring events to remember her carefully acquired refinement and had been in consequence a much more amusing companion than ever before, was summoned from the sitting-room and given strict injunctions that Anne was to be got to sleep at once and caused to sleep all night long.

“Like hell she shall!” affirmed Sally Briggs, (late Moira Carruthers). “If I have to sit up all night singin’ at her.”

As soon as the two men were left alone, Roger fulfilled his promise and told Newsome of his intentions. He had expected Jerry to be difficult, and Jerry was difficult. Very difficult indeed. He had many things to say, and he said them all.

Finally Roger took a peremptory line. “Very well, Jerry,” he said. “If that’s your attitude, you can’t be present. This thing’s going through; Anne’s said so, and it’s her responsibility, not yours. I was going to ask you to take on the responsibility of rescuing her when I give the word; but if I can’t trust you to sit still through it all, however horrible and dangerous it seems to you, until I
do
give the word—why, then I simply won’t have you present at all. I’ll stage it the day after to-morrow instead, when you’re safe in jail.”

After which, of course, Mr. Newsome could put up no further fight.

“And now,” said Roger, “I’ve got just a little telephoning to do.”

T
HE
party from Scotland Yard was the first to arrive the next morning, for Roger had asked them to come at half-past eleven, whereas the rest were not expected till twelve o’clock. It was with an air of disapproving amusement that Chief Inspector Moresby, Superintendent Green and the Assistant Commissioner himself greeted their host and consented to imbibe the glasses of old pale sherry which he had prepared to soothe their feelings.

“Now remember,” he said, having seen a portion of the sherry safely down on its soothing path, “remember that you’re here quite unofficially. It isn’t because you’re from Scotland Yard that I’ve asked you to come and watch my little cat-and-mouse act. Nothing of the kind. It’s simply because Sir Paul Graham, Mr. Green and Mr. Moresby are friends of mine and I thought I’d like to have them to my party.”

“Humph!” said Superintendent Green, unsmiling.

“Ah!” said Chief Inspector Moresby, smiling.

“Sheringham, you’re incorrigible,” said the Assistant Commissioner, also smiling. “But I don’t approve, you know.”

“And on the other hand,” Roger retorted, “you don’t disapprove, because you don’t know what on earth I’m going to do.”

“Well, what
are
you going to do?” asked Sir Paul.

“That,” said Roger, “is just what you don’t know, isn’t it? Have some more sherry.” He refilled the glasses, to a refrain of politely protesting murmurs which he disregarded; as, indeed, their makers fully intended him to do.

“Well, anyhow,” persisted the Assistant Commissioner, “what do you want us to do?”

“Just sit still and look on at the little drama Miss Manners and I are going to perform. And above everything, not interfere by so much as a grunt till I show I’m ready for you. I warn you, you’ll find it a ticklish business to sit still and say nothing, but I want your three promises to do so, even though you think I’m killing Miss Manners under your very eyes. Do you agree?”

“I don’t like this,” said the Assistant Commissioner uneasily.

Roger became as persuasive as he could. This, he knew, was the moment upon which everything depended. If Scotland Yard refused its presence, the whole plan became useless. He pointed out with all the eloquence at his command that any methods were admissible in such a case, unorthodox as these might seem, and that Scotland Yard was not being invited actively to co-operate, but merely to sit aloof and step in only if they cared to do so; and he pleaded pathetically to be allowed just this one chance of saving Jerry Newsome from arrest and the police from the blunder of arresting him and of proving a fantastic theory of his own which they would simply laugh at if he were to voice it prematurely.

In the end Sir Paul consented. It was the argument concerning Newsome which probably brought him to agree to grace this unconventional scene with his own presence and that of two of his chief officers; for Sir Paul was by no means as convinced as were the two officers that Newsome was the man they wanted. Like Roger, he simply could not see him in the rôle; and circumstantial evidence, after all, though nearly always infallible if strong enough, is not invariably so.

Much relieved, Roger emptied the bottle among them and proceeded to give them their instructions. Moresby and Green were not to be in evidence at all; they were to lurk behind a screen which had been drawn across a corner of the room, and only come out when Roger called for them. The Assistant Commissioner was to be introduced, if any introduction was necessary, and Mr. Blake and his connection with Scotland Yard not revealed; he would sit in a dark corner and make himself as unobtrusive as possible. Would he do that? He would.

“Well, Mr. Sheringham,” said Chief Inspector Moresby jovially, “we shall expect some startling results from you after all this.”

“I think you’ll be startled all right, Moresby,” said Roger.

Superintendent Green continued to say nothing in a very masterly way. Even Roger’s excellent sherry had not softened that dour man. Except while actually imbibing it, his face was eloquent of his opinion that of all the time-wasting, silly businesses, this was going to be the silliest and waste the most valuable time. Superintendent Green, it was clear, was not going to be an appreciative audience.

Having completed his arrangements, Roger called in Anne and introduced her.

“Now, Anne,” he said in businesslike tones, “I want you to tell these three doubting Thomases that you are doing this of your own free will, that you fully understand the risks you are going to run even to the extent of losing your life, and that you don’t want them to interfere with what I am doing to you until I myself give the word.”

“That is so,” Anne agreed gravely. “And I should like to add that even though I knew it meant certain death, I think I should still go through with it because I am sure that if necessary one life should be sacrificed to save the others that this man will certainly take if he’s not caught, and also that if Mr. Sheringham had refused to carry out his plan with me after consideration, because he thought it too risky, I should not have rested until I’d found somebody else who would.”

There was a short silence after Anne had spoken. Even Moresby looked more or less serious.

“It is a fact, then, that this scheme involves real danger to Miss Manners’ life ?” asked Sir Paul uncomfortably.

“The gravest,” Roger assured him.

“Then I suggest,” said Sir Paul, “that for your sake, she put in writing what she has just told us.”

“That’s a very good idea,” said Anne, with equanimity. “I’ll go and do it at once.”

The Assistant Commissioner, who had entertained vague hopes of frightening her out of this hare-brained business, looked nonplussed.

Anne went out of the room.

“You realise, Sheringham,” said Sir Paul, “that what she said doesn’t make the slightest difference legally? If you do cause the girl’s death, you will be responsible in the usual way.”

Roger nodded. “Oh, yes, I know that, of course. But I thought you’d like to hear her own opinion. By the way, I’ve been guilty of a gross dereliction of duty. It will interest you gentlemen to hear that, although I haven’t yet reported it, Miss Manners was attacked yesterday by this brute and very nearly lost her life then.” He gave the details briefly and answered such questions as the three asked him.

“Newsome!” said Chief Inspector Moresby, without hesitation.

“Newsome, of course,” grunted Superintendent Green, in disgust.

“Really,” said Sir Paul, almost convinced in spite of his feelings, “it does look as if Newsome is the man.”

“So Pleydell said,” agreed Roger equably. “And yet he isn’t, you know.”

“And you really think you know who it is?”

“I’m convinced of it. But this business will prove once and for all whether I’m right or not. And it’s the only thing that will.” He handed to Sir Paul an ordinary envelope, sealed. “By the way, here’s the name of the man I suspect. Put it in your pocket and don’t open it till the show’s over. I should hate you to say afterwards that I’d been afraid to commit myself in advance.”

Sir Paul took it with a slight smile and stowed it away in his breast-pocket.

“And now,” said Roger, “I think you’d better take up your positions. The others will be arriving at any minute.”

They had been so far in Roger’s study. He now led them across the hall into the sitting-room. This was a room of tolerably large dimensions, long and not very narrow. There was a window in one end and two in one of the sides; the door opened in the middle of the end wall opposite the window. Across one corner at the window end the screen had been placed, and in the other corner was Sir Paul’s chair. Roger saw them into their places, and then drew the curtains half-way over all the windows so that the two corners were thrown into shadow.