Thomas Godfrey (Ed) (39 page)

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Authors: Murder for Christmas

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“Inspector Fox,” said
Alleyn, “tells me those holes could be used for conducting wires and that a
lead could be taken from the—the transformer, is it?—to one of the knobs.”

“And the other connected
to earth,” said Fox. “It’s a job for an expert. He could get three hundred
volts or so that way.”

“That’s not good enough,”
said Arthur quickly; “there wouldn’t be enough current to do any damage—only a
few hundredths of an amp.”

“I’m not an expert,” said
Alleyn, “but I’m sure you’re right. Why were the holes drilled then? Do you
imagine someone wanted to play a practical joke on your father?”

“A practical joke? On
him?”
Arthur gave an unpleasant screech of laughter. “Do you
hear that, Guy?”

“Shut up,” said Guy. “After
all, he is dead.”

“It seems almost too good
to be true, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t be a bloody fool,
Arthur. Pull yourself together. Can’t you see what this means? They think he’s
been murdered.”

“Murdered! They’re wrong.
None of us had the nerve for that, Mr. Inspector. Look at me. My hands are so
shaky they told me I’d never be able to paint. That dates from when I was a kid
and he shut me up in the cellars for a night. Look at me. Look at Guy. He’s not
so vulnerable, but he caved in like the rest of us. We were conditioned to
surrender. Do you know—”

“Wait a moment,” said
Alleyn quietly. “Your brother is quite right, you know. You’d better think
before you speak. This may be a case of homicide.”

“Thank you, sir,” said
Guy quickly. “That’s extraordinarily decent of you. Arthur’s a bit above
himself. It’s a shock.”

“The relief, you mean,” said
Arthur. “Don’t be such an ass. I didn’t kill him and they’ll find it out soon
enough. Nobody killed him. There must be some explanation.”

“I suggest that you
listen to me,” said Alleyn. “I’m going to put several questions to both of you.
You need not answer them, but it will be more sensible to do so. I understand
no one but your father touched this radio. Did any of you ever come into this
room while it was in use?”

“Not unless he wanted to
vary the program with a little bullying,” said Arthur.

Alleyn turned to Guy, who
was glaring at his brother.

“I want to know exactly
what happened in this house last night. As far as the doctors can tell us, your
father died not less than three and not more than eight hours before he was
found. We must try to fix the time as accurately as possible.”

“I saw him at about a
quarter to nine,” began Guy slowly. “I was going out to a supper-party at the
Savoy and had come downstairs. He was crossing the hall from the drawing-room
to his room.”

“Did you see him after a
quarter to nine, Mr. Arthur?”

“No. I heard him, though.
He was working in here with Hislop. Hislop had asked to go away for Christmas.
Quite enough. My father discovered some urgent correspondence. Really, Guy, you
know, he was pathological. I’m sure Dr. Meadows thinks so.”

“When did you hear him?”
asked Alleyn.

“Some time after Guy had
gone. I was working on a drawing in my room upstairs. It’s above his. I heard
him bawling at little Hislop. It must have been before ten o’clock, because I
went out to a studio party at ten. I heard him bawling as I crossed the hall.”

“And when,” said Alleyn, “did
you both return?”

“I came home at about
twenty past twelve,” said Guy immediately. “I can fix the time because we had
gone on to Chez Carlo, and they had a midnight stunt there. We left immediately
afterwards. I came home in a taxi. The radio was on full blast.”

“You heard no voices?”

“None. Just the wireless.”

“And you, Mr. Arthur?”

“Lord knows when I got
in. After one. The house was in darkness. Not a sound.”

“You had your own key ?”

“Yes,” said Guy. “Each of
us has one. They’re always left on a hook in the lobby. When I came in I
noticed Arthur’s was gone.”

“What about the others?
How did you know it was his?”

“Mother hasn’t got one
and Phips lost hers weeks ago. Anyway, I knew they were staying in and that it
must be Arthur who was out.”

“Thank you,” said Arthur
ironically.

“You didn’t look in the
study when you came in,” Alleyn asked him.

“Good Lord, no,” said
Arthur as if the suggestion was fantastic. “I say,” he said suddenly, “I
suppose he was sitting here—dead. That’s a queer thought.” He laughed
nervously. “Just sitting here, behind the door in the dark.”

“How do you know it was
in the dark?”

“What d’you mean? Of
course it was. There was no light under the door.”

“I see. Now do you two
mind joining your mother again? Perhaps your sister will be kind enough to come
in here for a moment. Fox, ask her, will you?”

Fox returned to the
drawing-room with Guy and Arthur and remained there, blandly unconscious of any
embarrassment his presence might cause the Tonkses. Bailey was already there,
ostensibly examining the electric points.

Phillipa went to the
study at once. Her first remark was characteristic.

“Can I be of any help?”
asked Phillipa.

“It’s extremely nice of
you to put it like that,” said Alleyn. “I don’t want to worry you for long. I’m
sure this discovery has been a shock to you.”

“Probably,” said
Phillipa. Alleyn glanced quickly at her. “I mean,” she explained, “that I
suppose I must be shocked but I can’t feel anything much. I just want to get it
all over as soon as possible. And then think. Please tell me what has happened.”

Alleyn told her they
believed her father had been electrocuted and that the circumstances were
unusual and puzzling. He said nothing to suggest that the police suspected
murder.

“I don’t think I’ll be
much help,” said Phillipa, “but go ahead.”

“I want to try to
discover who was the last person to see your father or speak to him.”

“I should think very
likely I was,” said Phillipa composedly. “I had a row with him before I went to
bed.”

“What about?”

“I don’t see that it
matters.”

Alleyn considered this.
When he spoke again it was with deliberation.

“Look here,” he said, “I
think there is very little doubt that your father was killed by an electric
shock from his wireless set. As far as I know the circumstances are unique.
Radios are normally incapable of giving a lethal shock to anyone. We have
examined the cabinet and are inclined to think that its internal arrangements
were disturbed last night. Very radically disturbed. Your father may have
experimented with it. If anything happened to interrupt or upset him, it is
possible that in the excitement of the moment he made some dangerous
readjustment.”

“You don’t believe that,
do you?” asked Phillipa calmly.


Since you ask me,” said Alleyn, “no.”

“I see,” said Phillipa; “you
think he was murdered, but you’re not sure.” She had gone very white, but she
spoke crisply. “Naturally you want to find out about my row.”

“About everything that
happened last evening,” amended Alleyn.

“What happened was this,”
said Phillipa; “I came into the hall some time after ten. I’d heard Arthur go
out and had looked at the clock at five past. I ran into my father’s secretary,
Richard Hislop. He turned aside, but not before I saw... not quickly enough. I
blurted out: ‘You’re crying.’ We looked at each other. I asked him why he stood
it. None of the other secretaries could. He said he had to. He’s a widower with
two children. There have been doctor’s bills and things. I needn’t tell you
about his... about his damnable servitude to my father nor about the
refinements of cruelty he’d had to put up with. I think my father was mad,
really mad, I mean. Richard gabbled it all out to me higgledy-piggledy in a
sort of horrified whisper. He’s been here two years, but I’d never realized
until that moment that we... that...” A faint flush came into her cheeks. “He’s
such a funny little man. Not at all the sort I’ve always thought... not good-looking
or exciting or anything.”

She stopped, looking
bewildered.

“Yes?” said Alleyn.

“Well, you see—I suddenly
realized I was in love with him. He realized it too. He said: ‘Of course, it’s
quite hopeless, you know. Us, I mean. Laughable, almost.’ Then I put my arms
round his neck and kissed him. It was very odd, but it seemed quite natural.
The point is my father came out of his room into the hall and saw us.”

“That was bad luck,” said
Alleyn.

“Yes, it was. My father
really seemed delighted. He almost licked his lips. Richard’s efficiency had
irritated my father for a long time. It was difficult to find excuses for being
beastly to him. Now, of course... He ordered Richard to the study and me to my
room. He followed me upstairs. Richard tried to come too, but I asked him not
to. My father... I needn’t tell you what he said. He put the worst possible
construction on what he’d seen. He was absolutely foul, screaming at me like a
madman. He was insane. Perhaps it was D. Ts. He drank terribly, you know. I
dare say it’s silly of me to tell you all this.”

“No,” said Alleyn.

“I can’t feel anything at
all. Not even relief. The boys are frankly relieved. I can’t feel afraid either.”
She stared meditatively at Alleyn. “Innocent people needn’t feel afraid, need
they?”

“It’s an axiom of police
investigation,” said Alleyn and wondered if indeed she was innocent.

“It just
can’t
be murder,” said Phillipa. “We were all too much
afraid to kill him. I believe he’d win even if you murdered him. He’d hit back
somehow.” She put her hands to her eyes. “I’m all muddled.”

“I think you are more
upset than you realize. I’ll be as quick as I can. Your father made this scene
in your room. You say he screamed. Did any one hear him?”

“Yes. Mummy did. She came
in.”

“What happened?”

“I said: ‘Go away,
darling, it’s all right.’ I didn’t want her to be involved. He nearly killed
her with the things he did. Sometimes he’d... we never knew what happened
between them. It was all secret, like a door shutting quietly as you walk along
a passage.”

“Did she go away?”

“Not at once. He told her
he’d found out that Richard and I were lovers. He said... it doesn’t matter. I
don’t want to tell you. She was terrified. He was stabbing at her in some way I
couldn’t understand. Then, quite suddenly, he told her to go to her own room.
She went at once and he followed her. He locked me in. That’s the last I saw of
him, but I heard him go downstairs later.”

“Were you locked in all
night?”

“No. Richard Hislop’s
room is next to mine. He came up and spoke through the wall to me. He wanted to
unlock the door, but I said better not in case—he—came back. Then, much later,
Guy came home. As he passed my door I tapped on it. The key was in the lock and
he turned it.”

“Did you tell him what
had happened?”

“Just that there’d been a
row. He only stayed a moment.”

“Can you hear the radio
from your room?”

She seemed surprised.

“The wireless? Why, yes.
Faintly.”

“Did you hear it after
your father returned to the study?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Think. While you lay
awake all that long time until your brother came home?”

“I’ll try. When he came
out and found Richard and me, it was not going. They had been working, you see.
No, I can’t remember hearing it at all unless—wait a moment. Yes. After he had
gone back to the study from mother’s room I remember there was a loud crash of
static. Very loud. Then I think it was quiet for some time. I fancy I heard it
again later. Oh, I’ve remembered something else. After the static my bedside
radiator went out. I suppose there was something wrong with the electric
supply. That would account for both, wouldn’t it? The heater went on again
about ten minutes later.”

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