Читать книгу Accident by Design - Edith Caroline Rivett - Страница 14

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“I am very sorry to trouble you just now, madam——”

“All right, Sergeant. I know you have to send in a full report.”

Judith Vanstead faced Sergeant Brown with her usual grace and dignity; her face was very pale and her dark eyes heavily shadowed, as though sunk in their deep sockets, but her poise was as steadfast as ever. Brown went on:

“Would you tell me about the car your brother was driving, madam? It was his own car, I see.”

“Yes. He bought it a year ago. When my brother and his wife came to live here with us, I soon realised that he disliked being driven by Beach, our chauffeur, and I use my own little car rather a lot for W.V.S. business, so it seemed sensible for Gerald to have something of his own to drive; as you know, there is no ‘alternative transport’ available. He bought the Stanhall at an auction sale in Oxford, and we teased him for buying such an old crock—it was a 1937 car. But my brother said he liked it because it was the same model he had driven in Malaya before the war, and he felt at home in it. I know he was perfectly satisfied with it.”

“Did you ever hear him say that he had had any trouble with it—the brakes, for instance?”

“No, never. He was a very good mechanic and looked after the car himself. I suggested that Beach should service it for him, but Gerald was most indignant and said he liked to look after his own car.”

“Have you ever heard it said that your brother was a reckless driver, madam?”

A faint colour crept into Judith’s pale cheeks. “No, Sergeant. It is not very likely that anybody would say a thing like that to me about my own brother. One of our neighbours—an elderly lady—once told me that he drove too fast, but as anything over twenty miles an hour means speeding to that lady, I did not take it very seriously. I believe he was a very good driver—he had to drive great distances in Malaya.” Judith paused, her face drawn and frowning. “Have you any idea what caused the accident, Sergeant?”

“Yes, madam, it seems perfectly plain. Mr. Vanstead came down Templedean Hill out of gear; his brakes were faulty, and when he tried to check speed he was unable to do so, the brakes were not properly adjusted.”

“Oh dear ... yet I am sure I heard him say that he had been over the car himself recently and that it was in perfect order. I know he had it up the elevator thing—our garages are very well equipped. But Beach could tell you.”

“Very good, madam.” The Sergeant looked uncomfortable, as well he might, but he intended to have his report perfectly clear, and he persisted: “It is rather difficult to understand how the brakes were in such a bad condition, madam, if your brother was a good mechanic. Could anybody else have interfered with the car?”

Judith’s frowning face became yet more intent, “Interfered with it? I don’t quite follow you. The Stanhall was always garaged in its own lock-up, and I think my brother always kept the garage doors shut—there is a Yale lock which shuts automatically. I don’t see how anybody could have borrowed the car, if that is what you mean.”

“Very good, madam. Was there anybody who might have had a grudge against your brother and meddled with the car to annoy him, so to speak?”

Judith sat very still, and her steady gaze made Brown flush uncomfortably. “I don’t think we have any irresponsible people in our service here,” she replied. “Beach is over fifty years of age and he has been with us since 1920, save for the time he was directed into National Service during the war. The gardeners don’t go into the garage yard at all, and our only other manservant is Saunders, the butler—a very faithful servant. Nobody here ‘meddled,’ as you put it, and I think it very unlikely that any unauthorised person found his way to the garages. If that is your theory, Sergeant, you must look elsewhere. I suppose it is possible that the car could have been interfered with while it was parked somewhere, but it seems very unlikely to me.”

“Yes, madam, it does to me also,” rejoined Brown. “If your brother always looked after the car himself it looks as though he himself must have been responsible for the state the brakes were in.”

Judith frowned. “Isn’t it possible that the mechanism was defective in itself? Old cars do tend to become faulty. In these days when so many people are driving prewar cars, one is always hearing groans about the cost and difficulty of replacing worn parts. Somebody told me that the metal itself can ‘get tired’; it seems to lose resilience or something.”

Brown nodded. “Yes, madam, I have heard something of the kind myself. There is another point I ought to ask you about Mr. Vanstead’s health. I believe he had a shocking time when he was a prisoner in Malaya.”

“Yes. He had an appalling time,” said Judith. “I don’t think he ever really got over it.”

“Isn’t it possible that his experiences may have affected him more than appeared, madam? Driving a car needs judgment and quick reactions, especially when you are in a dangerous situation. Do you think it possible that his judgment failed, and that he lost his head in a manner of speaking?”

Judith nodded, her eyes very sombre. “I’m afraid that’s what may have happened, Sergeant. Although my brother appeared to be perfectly well and normal, I think it’s possible that his nerve and judgment failed together when he realised what had happened—the car was out of control, and he was unable to make the necessary mental readjustment which might have saved him.”

Brown risked one more question, though he realised that Miss Vanstead looked exhausted and that her own nerves were very much on edge.

“Can you tell me if Mr. Vanstead made a habit of driving down Templedean Hill out of gear, madam?”

Judith made an exasperated sound. “I’m quite certain he did not!” she exclaimed. “I told you he was a good driver. If the car was out of gear, he must have attempted to change down when he realised the brakes had gone. That car needs a double declutch to get down into first gear; he tried it and found it was impossible and had to leave it in neutral.”

“Thank you, madam. I am sorry to have had to trouble you just now. We should all like to express our sympathy with you and Sir Charles. Everybody in the neighbourhood has a very great respect for the family at Templedean Place.”

Judith flushed, and her eyes filled with tears, for the Sergeant’s voice had a genuine ring of kindly feeling.

“Thank you,” she replied. “That was very kindly said, and when one is in trouble, kindness is very helpful.”