Trouble Brewing (35 page)

He got up and walked across the room to the table which still stood with the tray of medicines on it and picked up a brown bottle. ‘Here you are. You can see it's nearly empty. It's a tonic syrup which helps the heart, lungs and nerves.'

He put the bottle back on the tray and stood with his arms folded for a few seconds, before shaking his head. ‘Strychnine is an appalling way to kill someone. I can only hope that Mr Hunt had no idea of the effects. However, he was desperate. For your sake, Pat, he had to get rid of Tyrell. There must have been a note, though. You can't tell me that a methodical old bird like Mr Hunt would take an action like that without explaining himself. It's simply not in character.'

Jaggard looked bewildered. ‘Look here, Haldean, I can quite believe that H.R.H. would kill Tyrell. He was very strong minded and had a ruthless streak to his nature. Pat's told me that since she came to live here they've got a great deal closer. I can see he'd want to protect her. But why kill himself? And what happened to the note?'

‘If,' said Pat unsteadily, ‘he did kill Larry, he would take his own life afterwards. He'd see it as a matter of justice.'

‘As for the note,' said Jack, ‘just think what must have been in it. The confession that he'd poisoned Tyrell, right enough, but also the reason why. I believe Frederick Hunt went into the library. When he found his father dead with that note on the desk, he panicked. If the police suspected for one moment that Tyrell hadn't been at the plantation at Christmas, the whole wretched scheme and his part in it would be revealed. He
knew
, you see, and was in a total funk. So Frederick Hunt took the note, went to his study, and pretended to know nothing had happened.'

Bill nodded. ‘You're right, Jack. He was scared stiff of being accused of his father's death. I could hardly stop him talking once he realized how much we knew. According to him it's all Tyrell's fault.'

‘Tyrell frightened him, of course,' said Jack.

‘Frightened?' said Bill with a snort. ‘Terrified, more like. Now he's got every chance of getting what's coming to him, he's beside himself.' He glanced at Jack. ‘Don't tell me you're feeling sorry for him.'

‘Not exactly,' admitted Jack. ‘But for a man like Frederick Hunt to come up against Laurence Tyrell must have been like a rabbit meeting a snake. I can feel sorry for the rabbit. I haven't got any sympathy for the snake.'

Jack received a telephone call that evening. It was from Bill.

‘You know our case against Hunt?' said Bill in deep disgust. ‘It's off.'

‘Off?'

‘O-ruddy-double-f. He's hanged himself. Oh, well, it'll save the courts some work. The papers will love this.'

They did. The new director of Hunt Coffee, Limited, one Captain Meredith Smith, was quoted on every front page for a week. And then a chorus girl eloped with a Duke, quintuplets were born in Ashton-Under-Lyne, the Dean of Manchester said that Communism was Christianity, a solo attempt to fly the Atlantic failed, Eve Lahone, society hostess, was charged with supplying cocaine and heroin, and Hunt Coffee returned to being an item in the grocers rather than an item in the press.

At the Young Services Club, one month and three days later, the director of Hunt Coffee wiped his mouth with his napkin and sat back in his chair with a smile. ‘It seems a long time since we were in here, Jack. D'you remember the evening it all started? I was full of the letter I'd written to you from H.R.H.' He finished his wine. ‘I'm glad I didn't know what was going to happen next.'

‘It wasn't nice, was it?' said Jack. ‘I see Jag and Pat managed to get away on honeymoon without anyone being any the wiser.'

‘Yes, thank goodness. The last thing they want is more publicity. You know Jag's coming into the firm? He's selling his business to Miller. I'm looking forward to working with him. I'll give him a couple of weeks to settle down, then I'm off to Branca Preto to make them sit up a bit.'

‘Is Jag giving up racing?' asked Jack in surprise.

‘Oh no. The racing was the part he loved best of all. He'd miss the excitement if all he did was work for Hunts.'

Jack smiled broadly. ‘That's the last thing anyone from Hunts should complain about.'

‘Excitement?' said Meredith with a puzzled frown. ‘I wouldn't call it exciting. Interesting, certainly, but not exciting. Mind you, we've got the new roast perfected at last, I've totally reorganized the warehouse and I've got some really radical ideas for the after-dinner . . . That's not what you meant, is it?'

Jack shook his head with a grin and turned to the waiter. ‘Coffee, please. Make sure it's Hunt's.'