Читать книгу Tenant for Death - Alfred Alexander Gordon Clark - Страница 9

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Monday, November 16th

Lewis and Harper, their work above stairs completed, descended to a ground floor that seemed suddenly to have become crowded with people. Heavy police boots tramped in the hall, and through the smoking-room door they could see the sudden flash of magnesium as photographers recorded the appearance of the room and its occupant. Scotland Yard had taken possession.

Sergeant Tapper met them at the foot of the stairs.

“The inspector wants a word with you,” he said.

Inspector Mallett was a tall, stout man, whose bulk, as he stood four-square in the middle of the carpet, seemed to make the small room still smaller. From a rosy, round face looked out bland blue eyes, the mild expression of which contrasted oddly with his fierce military moustache. He favoured the two young men with a quiet, appraising stare as they entered.

“These are the two men who——” began Tapper.

“Yes,” said Mallett. He turned at once to Harper. “Have you finished with your inventory?” he asked.

“Yes,” answered Harper. “Every room except this one, of course.”

“Then just run your eye over this room, and tell me if anything has been taken.”

Harper began to go through the list, checking it off with the objects in the room. Not for the world would he, in this room, and in the presence of all these strangers, acknowledge the need of Lewis’s help. Lewis, on his part, was equally determined to see that the job was done thoroughly, and to Harper’s extreme annoyance, took up a position at his elbow, where he could look over the inventory and correct what was being done. As quickly as possible Harper completed the work, a desire to be out of the room and to be away from his companion spurring him on.

“There’s nothing missing,” he announced.

“Yes, there is,” said the odious Lewis in the same breath. “The blind-cord has gone.”

Harper could not avoid showing his annoyance at his own lapse and his contempt for the other’s uncalled-for nicety; but the inspector smiled grimly.

“Is this it, do you think?” he asked, pointing to the dead man.

Both had hitherto averted their eyes from the grisly object in the chair as much as possible, while taking in everything above, below and around it, but now, following the direction of the detective’s pointing finger, they saw protruding from the back of the neck, just above the collar, an unmistakable wooden knob, attached to a thin cord, most of it so embedded in the folds of the skin as to be invisible. Speechless, they nodded in agreement.

“Right!” said Mallett cheerfully. “That’s one thing settled, anyway. Now I don’t expect you fellows want to be in here any longer than you can help. Come into the other room.”

He consulted in low tones with one of his subordinates before leading the way into the front room. While he did so, Harper, his repugnance now conquered by curiosity, gazed with close interest at the face of the dead man. The body had been moved for the photographers to do their work, and it was possible for him now to look at the upturned features more closely. There was no trace of sympathy in the young man’s expression as he stared, but only a deep interest. It seemed unnatural that one who had probably never seen death before, and certainly not in such terrible guise, should be able to regard it with such passionless curiosity. So absorbed was he that he was evidently unaware that he too was the object of scrutiny from eyes no less observant than his own.

“Well?” said Mallett’s voice suddenly close behind him. “What are you staring at?”

Harper started, and is was an appreciable time before he could recover his self-possession. When he did speak, however, it was in his airiest and most superior tone. Lewis, listening, privately concluded that he had decided to assume his Oxford manner so as to impress upon the inspector that he was something more than an ordinary estate agent’s clerk.

“As a matter of fact. Inspector,” he said, “I was wondering why an obviously well-dressed man like that should have chosen to wear a green bow tie with a grey suit.”

The inspector grunted, but said nothing.

“Particularly”, pursued Harper, “when it isn’t even decently tied. I shouldn’t like to be seen dead in it myself.”

“Probably Ballantine wouldn’t either,” snapped Mallett. “If you’ve finished with the camera, cover that up, one of you, until it can be moved.” He strode out of the room, motioning the two young men to follow him.

“I shan’t keep you long,” said the inspector, when they were alone together. “I know who you are and why you were here. Just let me have a few details about the house. Whose is it?”

“Miss Penrose’s,” said Harper. “She is a client of ours, and is in Italy for the winter.”

“That is,” put in Lewis heavily, “Miss Penrose is the leaseholder. Actually the house belongs to Lord Minfield.”

“We won’t bother about him,” said Mallett. “Then you let it furnished on Miss Penrose’s behalf?”

“Yes,” said Harper.

“For how long?”

“A month, expiring today.”

“What was the tenant’s name?”

“Colin James.”

“Where is he now?”

“Abroad, so far as I know,” said Harper. “That is, on Saturday morning he returned the keys of the house with a letter to say that he was giving up possession and going to France.”

“What do you know about him?” asked Mallett. “He gave you some references, I suppose?”

“The only reference he gave was his bank,” said Harper. “He paid the rent in advance.”

“Which bank was it?”

“The Southern—the Lower Daylesford Street branch. I remember that because it was the same as the firm’s.”

The detective paused for a moment, sucking his cheeks reflectively, his broad back to the window, through which came the murmur of a crowd, already collected at the signs of police activity.

“What did this Colin James look like?” was his next question.

“He was a fat man,” answered Harper, “or rather, paunchy. I mean, he had a big stomach and a thin face, as if he had a bad digestion. He had a rather large dark brown beard. He was about medium size, and as far as I can remember, he spoke in rather a husky voice.”

Mallett turned to Lewis. “Do you agree with that?” he asked.

“I never saw him,” said Lewis. “I only came in on this job because Mr. Browne, my boss, wanted me to help check the inventory.” He could not resist a spiteful glance at Harper as he spoke.

“In that case you needn’t wait here,” said Mallett. “Get back to your office, tell them what has happened, if they don’t know already, and ask them to have all their records about Mr. James and his tenancy ready for inspection. I’ll let you know when you’re wanted again. Not until the inquest, probably.”

Lewis left, and the inspector turned to Harper.

“How often did you see James?” he asked.

“Only once. He came into the office in the morning when I was alone, and said he wanted a quiet furnished house in a hurry. I took him out and showed him this place——”

“Leaving the office empty?”

“Mr. Browne was in the inner office, but wouldn’t see him from where he was.”

“I see. Go on.”

“He liked the look of it and wanted to move in that afternoon. I took him back to the office and he gave me his cheque, which I paid into the bank during the morning. In the afternoon, Mr. Browne made out the tenancy agreement, and later on in the day Mr. James came back and signed it.”

“Were you alone in the office then?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact everyone else had gone home, and I had to wait specially late for him.”

“The tenancy agreement will be in the office, I suppose?”

Harper appeared to hesitate. “Yes—I suppose so,” he said. “It should be, at any rate.”

“You’ve given a very good description of a man you only saw once,” Mallett pursued. “Had you any particular reason for remembering him?”

“No—I don’t think so. Except of course a beard is a bit unusual.”

“Quite. Would you know him again if you were to see him?”

“I think so—only there’s the beard again. I’m not sure if I should know him without that.”

The inspector nodded thoughtfully.

“Was he alone in the house, do you know?” he asked. “It seems a biggish place for one man to take.”

“So far as I know he was.”

“What about servants?”

“He said he would want a man to come in by the day. I engaged one for him.”

“What is his name?”

“Crabtree—Richard Crabtree. He lives in the Terrace, just round the corner. No. 14.”

“Thank you,” said Mallett, making a note of the address. “Now about this inventory. Is there anything missing from the house?”

“No—nothing of any consequence.”

“Anything may be of consequence in a case like this,” said Mallett severely. “You had better leave the list with me for reference. Is there anything here that isn’t on it?”

“Only the linen and cutlery which James brought in with him.”

“That may be important. Where did it come from?”

“I ordered it myself for him from the stores near our office, and he gave me the money when he called to sign the agreement.”

“Rather an unusual transaction for a house agent to do, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose it was,” admitted Harper. “But he asked me to do it, and I didn’t think of it at the time.”

“I see.” Mallett went to the door. The interview was evidently at an end, and Harper rose to go. But the detective stopped him.

“Just one more question,” he said. “Have you ever seen Ballantine before?”

“No.”

“Then what exactly was it that made you stare at him in the way you did just now?”

“Exactly what I told you,” answered Harper coldly.

“No more than that?”

“No.”

The inspector shrugged his shoulders. “Very well. I shall keep in touch with you and let you know when you are wanted again. Good day.”

He opened the door, and Harper stepped into the open air again. He was conscious of the sound of many voices, of the click of cameras, of the hot breath of a crowd surging round him. But in his relief to be free at last of the horrors of the morning he gave them no heed. Pushing his way through, he walked at his best pace to the end of the street. Then he suddenly realized that he was very tired and distinctly hungry. Looking at his watch, he was astonished to find that it was not yet one o’clock. In an hour and a half he had lived an age. From the window, Inspector Mallett, with a quizzical expression on his lips and a slight frown barring his broad forehead, watched him go.