Murder on the Flying Scotsman (21 page)

BOOK: Murder on the Flying Scotsman
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‘Arson is what I’m trying in vain to commit. Sit down, Daisy, and tell me. I can listen and light my pipe at the same time, no matter what Bel says.’

Daisy sat down on the magenta plush sofa. Alec took a step towards her, cast a glance at the nearest arm chair, then, with an air of resolution, joined her on the sofa. She bit back a small
smile. He did remember, though whether he regretted that kiss she couldn’t be sure.

‘It was the sheep that gave me the clue,’ she said as he took out his tobacco pouch and stuffed a few more shreds into the bowl. Unburnt tobacco smelled so good, Daisy could never
understand why anyone wanted to burn it. She hated cigarette smoke, and even worse cigar smoke, but she had never minded pipe smoke; she was actually coming quite to like it, since she’d
known Alec.

‘Sheep?’ he queried between fierce sucks on the mouthpiece. The ashtray was filling with spent matches.

‘Something to do with sheep, Belinda said, and I came up with fleece.’ She explained where that had led her. ‘So, fleece, misappropriation, embezzlement, audit – it all
adds up to financial shenanigans, unless I’m completely on the wrong track.’

‘Hmm.’ The pipe had gone out again, but he didn’t seem to notice. Frowning, he spoke around it. ‘It sounds good, but it would be more convincing if we could fit in the
arson.’

‘Belinda didn’t actually say arson, she said arsony.’

‘Hell! Arsony? Sorry, Daisy.’

She scarcely heard his apology. ‘Alec, that’s it! Larceny! I bet he said something like . . . oh, “It’s plain, simple larceny,” or “that’s foul
larceny.”’

‘Could be,’ Alec said slowly. ‘It fits with the rest, which is rather stretching coincidence. And with what Braeburn told us . . . Daisy, this is strictly in confidence.
Braeburn says Alistair McGowan’s vast fortune is largely mythical, or at least historical. The past few years, he’s been speculating on the Stock Exchange and giving away large sums to
charity. There’s only a few thousand left.’

‘The miser giving away large sums? Not likely! I can’t see him speculating, either. Much more probable that someone’s been cheating him.’

‘It is, isn’t it? Even without Belinda’s clues, we’d considered that possibility. But how did Brother Albert find out?’

Daisy pondered. ‘Braeburn told you about the vanished riches? In confidence? You mean he hadn’t told any of the family?’

‘Only Albert, as Alistair’s heir, when Albert consulted him on the train.’

‘But Albert knew perfectly well that his twin brother is a penny-pinching skinflint. I distinctly remember his saying something of the sort. He wouldn’t have believed for a moment in
donations to charity.’ She and Alec stared at each other, comprehension dawning. ‘So when he was told . . . by the man who’d have found it easiest . . .’

‘Now hold on, Daisy,’ Alec begged, ‘don’t go off half-cocked!’

‘He accused Braeburn of larceny and threatened an audit.’

‘Hold on! This is a flight of sheer fancy, a house of cards. All we have to go on are a few words misheard by a child, addressed to we know not whom. Even if you’ve guessed every one
right, it doesn’t prove the person spoken to killed Albert. It’s not evidence.’

‘What’s not evidence, Chief?’ Sergeant Tring came in. ‘Morning, Miss Dalrymple.’

‘Good-morning, Mr. Tring. I’ve just made some simply brilliant deductions and the chief says they’re not evidence.’

Alec briefly explained. Not for the first time, Daisy admired his ability to render a convoluted tale concisely and clearly. He was a wizard at it. In fact, he was altogether wizard, even if he
had punctured her balloon.

Tring listened, then shook his head. ‘Sorry, Miss Dalrymple, but you could’ve got it all right and it still doesn’t mean anything. Who’s to say old Albert wasn’t
shouting at Braeburn about someone else’s swindle?’

‘Hold on, Tom,’ said Alec. ‘If that was the case, surely Braeburn would have mentioned Albert’s suspicions to us. He was quick enough to point to Peter Gillespie as the
most likely murderer.’

‘And we already agreed Mr. Gillespie’s the most likely swindler, Chief.’

‘True. It’s all pretty thin, but all the same, I think I’ll ’phone up the Yard and have someone from the Fraud Squad go and speak to Braeburn’s partners. Inspector
Fielding, I think. He owes me one, and he’s tactful but persistent.’

‘He’ll need to be, trying to pump a bunch of lawyers about one of their own!’ said Tring.

‘With any luck it won’t matter. You spoke to Sergeant Barclay?’

‘Yes, and it looks like Madame Paskeyay’s in the clear. They’d never’ve guessed she was connected if she hadn’t spoke up.’

‘Any news from Dr. Redlow?’ Alec asked impatiently.

‘I talked to Dr. Fraser.’ Tring’s mustache twitched as he grinned. ‘It’s blood on the pillow-case, Chief. And what’s more, they found blood and skin under the
old man’s fingernails.’

‘The same type of blood?’

‘The very same, Chief. Group three, he says, which is not too common. Seems it’s different from Albert McGowan’s, and he’s got no scratches on him, anyways.’

‘Then our chummy has four scratches on one hand.’ Alec curled his fingers into a claw. ‘Albert’s left hand – no, the pillowcase was inside out. Albert’s
right, chummy’s left hand. I doubt he attacked from behind, though we’ll check both.’

‘There should be marks on the other hand, too, Chief. He scratched with his left hand as well, just didn’t draw enough blood to stain the pillow-case. Leastways, not enough to soak
through or to see under all that dirt. The doc says it should be easy to tell fingernail scratches from bramble scratches, but to call him in if there’s any problem.’

‘Excellent. All we have to do now is examine everyone’s hands. I’ll . . . Oh, Daisy, I’d forgotten you were here. I need Piper. Could you go back to Belinda?’

So much for the kiss, Daisy thought gloomily. ‘All right,’ she said with a sigh. ‘But there’s one thing you need to take into account.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I told you the train was fearfully overheated, and the wireless had forecast a summery day. The younger ladies were in short-sleeved dresses, and Raymond had abandoned his jacket and
rolled up his shirt-sleeves. Mr. McGowan’s compartment was even hotter. I heard him invite Dr. Jagai to take off his jacket when he went in there. The other men may have followed suit.
You’d better check people’s arms as well as their hands.’

‘Oh lord!’ Alec groaned. ‘Asking people to show their hands is one thing. They’re bound to kick up a dust when I ask them to start stripping!’

 

CHAPTER 17

‘Have any of the rest come down yet, Ernie?’ Alec asked as the young D.C. hurried into the parlour.

‘Most of ’em, Chief. Mr. Smythe-Pike’s laid up with a bad attack of the gout – and Mr. Bretton and Mr. Jeremy Gillespie look like they wish they had half as good an
excuse to stay in bed. Mrs. Jeremy’s come down. If you ask me, Chief, she’s
much
too big to murder anyone. Wouldn’t be surprised if it popped out any minute.’

‘Let’s hope not! Things are going to be difficult enough as it is. It seems we’re right about those scratches.’

Piper looked puzzled. ‘Don’t that make it easy, Chief? All we have to do is check their hands and we’ve got chummy by the short hairs.’

‘We’re going to have to look at their arms, too.’ Alec explained Daisy’s reasoning. ‘It’s easy enough for the gentle men to take off their jackets and roll up
their sleeves,’ he went on, ‘though some of them will undoubtedly squeal. The difficulty’s with the women. If they’re wearing tight sleeves they’ll have to change, and
then they’ll have every right to object to our scrutinizing their arms. I suppose I’ll have to get hold of a police matron. I hope Halliday can produce one.’

‘Why not ask Miss Dalrymple to do it, Chief?’

‘Because . . .’ Why not? Because he hated to see Daisy involved in the sordid business of murder any more than she herself made absolutely necessary?

‘Do what?’ Tom returned from the telephone.

‘You got through already?’ Alec asked. ‘That was quick.’

‘Told the girl urgent police priority, Chief. Don’t want to be stuck up here longer’n we must, do we? The missus’ll be getting in a pucker. She’s always afraid
I’ll fade away without good home-cooked meals.’

‘No fear of that, Sarge,’ said Piper.

‘Cheeky cub,’ the vast sergeant said tolerantly. ‘Inspector Fielding’s on his way, Chief. What are we asking Miss Dalrymple to do?’

‘Check the women’s arms. But we’re not.’ He had come up with a reasonable reason. ‘I don’t want Belinda either mixed up in it or left alone, and I need you
two.’

‘She likes the Indian doctor, Chief,’ said Piper. ‘He’s already out of it, pretty much. Check his arms first, then ask him to look after Miss Belinda.’

Alec considered. There was nothing against it but his own reluctance to ask for Daisy’s help. And if the Berwick force had no matron, it might take hours to bring one in from
elsewhere.

‘All right, assuming Dr. Jagai is cleared, I’ll see if Miss Dalrymple is willing.’ Fat chance she’d refuse. ‘We could take them in two groups, men and women, but I
think we’ll do it one by one in case chummy gets excited. I don’t think it’s any of the women, but Ernie, you’ll stand at the door of whatever room Miss Dalrymple’s in
and get in there fast if you hear the slightest squeak.’

‘Don’t worry, Chief,’ said Ernie importantly, ‘I’ll take care of her. Shall I go and ask her to come here so’s you can explain?’

‘Not yet. We’d better let her – and everyone else – eat their breakfasts in peace. Then I’ll see Dr. Jagai first to make sure he’s willing to keep an eye on
Belinda. In fact, go and tell him I’d like to consult him as soon as he’s finished. Discreetly, Ernie. I don’t want the others wondering.’

‘Easy, Chief, he’s sitting with Miss Dalrymple and Miss Belinda’.

Piper popped out again. Alec discussed with Tom the best order in which to call in the gentlemen. Bretton and Jeremy Gillespie first, they decided, as their statements were sketchy in the
extreme.

‘Then Peter Gillespie, while Miss Dalrymple keeps his missus out of the way,’ Tom suggested.

‘Good point! In fact, we’ll see him first to make sure of coordinating with his wife’s absence. Then Bretton and Jeremy, then we’ll tackle Smythe-Pike, in bed or out of
it. Any further details we can get out of them may help our case. I’d say the scratches will be damning evidence, but you know what lawyers are like’.

‘Slippery as jellied eels,’ Tom agreed. He looked round as Piper came back once more. ‘Hooked fish, young ’un?’

‘Dr. Jagai’ll be here in a coupla minutes, Chief. He eats his porridge the Scotch way, Sarge, and he don’t follow it up with a ton and a half of bacon and eggs. Nor curry,
neether,’ Piper added regretfully, as if such proof of foreign eccentricity would have pleased him.

The doctor didn’t keep them waiting long. ‘A medical consultation, Mr. Fletcher?’ he asked. ‘I have my black bag upstairs.’

‘No, Doctor. I have a favour to ask of you. But first, would you mind letting me look at your hands?’

Jagai raised his eyebrows, but he promptly held out his hands, brown-skinned, blunt-fingered, competent, with well-trimmed, spotless nails. The scratches he had received while helping Belinda
now formed a network of rows of tiny scabs. Fingernail scratches would be in roughly parallel lines, Alec thought, and wider, therefore slower to start to heal.

The Indian turned his hands, revealing pink palms, one stained with iodine where a thorn had stabbed more deeply. ‘Nothing vital pierced,’ he said quizzically. ‘Cat scratches
are worse. They tend to fester.’

‘What about human?’ Alec queried. ‘I’m afraid I must ask you to take off your jacket and roll up your sleeves.’

Jagai shrugged out of his jacket and unfastened his cufflinks. ‘So Mr. McGowan branded his assailant,’ he said, baring arms unmarked but for a small white scar near one elbow.
‘Good for the old boy! Human scratches can be nasty, partly because of the width, partly because they are usually inflicted by dirty nails, though not, of course, in this case.’

Alec held his jacket for him to put back on. ‘By the way, did you in fact take this off in Mr. McGowan’s compartment?’ he asked.

‘Yes. It was too hot in there for comfort.’

‘He invited you to do so? Would he have done the same for his other visitors?’

‘I rather doubt it,’ Jagai said dryly. ‘He disliked them and wouldn’t have cared for their discomfort. But it’s possible, certainly.’

‘I’m sorry to have had to check you. You weren’t really still under suspicion but I had to be quite sure, partly just for the sake of thoroughness, partly because of the favour
I spoke of.’

‘What can I do for you?’

‘You’re free to leave, but would you be kind enough to take charge of my daughter for a while this morning? I need Miss Dalrymple’s help, I need both my men, but I dare not
leave Belinda alone after what may have happened out on the walls yesterday. She likes and trusts you.’

‘It will be a pleasure, Mr. Fletcher,’ Jagai said, smiling.

‘You realize she must not be left for so much as a minute?’

‘You truly think she is in danger?’ he asked gravely. ‘Believe me, I had no idea or I’d not have left her yesterday.’

‘We didn’t know then. She’s no threat to the murderer now, if she ever was – she’s told us what she knows, whether it turns out to be useful or not, and in any case
we now have the scratches to go by – but he or she isn’t aware of that.’

‘Better safe than sorry. I’ll keep my eye on her. It might do her good to get away from the hotel for a while. May I take her for a walk, in the town, not on the walls?’

‘That sounds like a good idea, for an hour or so. Thank you, Doctor.’ Alec shook his hand. ‘Don’t mention the scratches to anyone, please. I’d rather they
didn’t know exactly what we’re looking for. Piper, go with Dr. Jagai; explain to Belinda and tell Miss Dalrymple I request the pleasure of her company.’

Daisy was rather disappointed to find Alec intended to share the pleasure of her company with both Piper and Tring. However, she cheered up when she discovered she was
actually being invited to lend a hand in the investigation.

BOOK: Murder on the Flying Scotsman
3.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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