Читать книгу Invisible Weapons - John Rhode, John Rhode - Страница 7

Before the reverberations of the gong had died away, Dr Thornborough was on his knees beside the fallen man with Linton standing close behind him. The doctor made a rapid examination.

‘It’s Uncle Bob, and he’s dead!’ he exclaimed without looking up. ‘For Heaven’s sake shut the door, Linton, and fix it somehow so that it won’t open. We don’t want the women crowding in here and seeing this.’

Linton shut the door and managed to jam the broken lock. Then he returned to his station by the doctor’s side, uncertain what he should do. Even his inexperience could tell at a glance that Mr Fransham had not died of heart failure.

The body stretched on the floor was that of a man nearing sixty, grey-headed and clean-shaven. His rugged features and protruding chin proclaimed him to have been a man of strong will. In the front of his head above the middle of his forehead the skin was broken and the bone beneath it fractured. Linton felt assured that Mr Fransham had died as the result of a blow from some blunt instrument. The blood from the wound had trickled down the dead man’s cheek and collected in a small pool on the rubber flooring.

The cloakroom measured about fifteen feet by twelve. Its only entrance was by the door from the hall. The wall on the left of this entrance was provided with a series of hooks, upon which hung an array of masculine coats and hats. Against the opposite wall was a water-closet and, separated from this by a thin partition running half-way across the room, a lavatory basin. In the wall behind the basin was a window, glazed with frosted glass, and between this and the basin a wide window-ledge faced with vitrolite. Only a small panel of this window, less than a foot square, was made to open. It was now open inwards and secured by a rod and pin. The window looked out upon the carriage-way running beside the house from one of the drive gates to the garage. On the outside the window was protected by stout iron bars set about six inches apart. The carriage-way was about twelve feet wide, and it was bounded on its further side by an eight-foot brick wall.

Dr Thornborough rose slowly to his feet, keeping his eyes fixed upon the dead man’s face. ‘This is pretty ghastly,’ he muttered, more to himself than to Linton. ‘Uncle Bob dead like this, and here of all places. I don’t begin to understand it.’ He looked up suddenly and faced the policeman. ‘What are we going to do about it, Linton?’ he asked helplessly.

‘It’s my duty to take particulars, sir,’ Linton replied rather stiffly. ‘To begin with, would you mind telling me this gentleman’s full name and address?’

‘His name is Robert Fransham,’ Dr Thornborough replied. ‘His age is fifty-eight and his address is 4 Cheveley Street, London, SW1. You’ve heard me call him Uncle Bob, but he’s not really my uncle, he’s my wife’s, and the devil of it is that his sister, my wife’s mother, is staying with us at this very moment.’

‘What in your opinion was the cause of death, sir?’

‘You can see that for yourself, I should think. A depressed fracture of the anterior portion of the skull, severe enough to cause immediate death.’

‘Can you suggest what could have caused such a fracture, sir?’

‘I can’t. That’s just the puzzle. The fracture was caused by the impact of some hard body, of course. And that body must have been of a definite shape. You know what a cube is, I suppose?’

‘I think so, sir. It’s the shape of dice or of lumps of sugar.’

‘That’s right. Well, the nature of this fracture suggests that Fransham was struck by the edge of a cube an inch and a half across. And if you can suggest how that happened, you’re cleverer than I am.’

‘Perhaps if we were to search the room, we should find the object, sir.’

‘You’re at liberty to search as much as you like. In fact, it seems to me that this business is up to you. Meanwhile, I’m faced with the particularly unpleasant task of breaking the news to my wife. She and her uncle were devoted to one another, and she’s going to take it pretty badly.’

Dr Thornborough walked slowly out of the room and Linton secured the door behind him. He had no wish to be interrupted at this stage of the proceedings. He was first in the field and meant to take full advantage of the fact.

The dead man was lying flat on his back at right angles to the wall on which the coat-hooks were fixed, and with his arms outstretched. His feet were towards the lavatory basin and a few inches from it in the horizontal direction. The basin itself was half full of soapy water, still warm.

Linton examined the dead man’s hands and found that they were damp and soapy. This, together with the position in which the body was lying, suggested that Mr Fransham must have been actually washing his hands when he was struck. A cake of soap still moist was lying on the floor beneath the basin. Two clean towels hung on a rail nearby. Their appearance indicated that neither of them had been used.

Linton took up his position in front of the basin as though he were about to wash his hands in it. Looking straight in front of him he found that his head was on a level with the open pane of the window. Further, his view of the wall on the opposite side of the carriage-way was not obstructed by the protecting bars. From the centre of the basin to these bars was a matter of thirty inches, measured horizontally.

Linton entered these facts in his notebook and shook his head forebodingly. He didn’t at all like the way in which things were shaping. But for the moment he had done everything that could be expected of him. It was time that he got into touch with his superiors.

He opened the door of the cloakroom and peeped out. There seemed to be nobody about, though he could hear the sound of voices behind the closed door of the dining-room. He went to the telephone instrument which stood on a table in the hall, and rang through to Sergeant Cload, keeping his eye on the cloakroom door meanwhile.

His report to the sergeant was very guarded, since he was not sure who might be listening to him.

‘I’m speaking from Dr Thornborough’s, sir. Mrs Thornborough’s uncle has been found dead under rather suspicious circumstances.’

It took Cload some seconds to realise the full import of this message. ‘What on earth do you mean!’ he exclaimed at last. ‘Let’s have the particulars, man.’

‘I’d rather you came and saw them for yourself, sir,’ Linton replied firmly.

‘Are you trying to hint that there’s been a murder at Dr Thornborough’s?’ the sergeant asked.

‘It looks very like it, sir. But least said, soonest mended.’

‘I see. This is a job for the super. I’ll get on to him at once and tell him what you’ve told me. Meanwhile you stay where you are and see that nothing’s interfered with.’

Linton remained in the hall, awaiting further instructions. From the dining-room came the sound of a woman sobbing and the voice of Dr Thornborough apparently trying to comfort her. From time to time another voice—that of a woman—chimed in. The news of the tragedy had not apparently reached the kitchen, judging by the sounds of merriment which penetrated the baize door. Linton approached this on tiptoe and pushed it gently open an inch or so. He heard two women laughing, apparently at something which was being said by a man with a hoarse voice. The latter was presumably the surly-faced chauffeur and the two women were Lucy and the cook.

Linton had not long to wait for his instructions. Before many minutes had passed a car turned at high speed into the drive and pulled up with a squeaking of brakes outside the front door. Linton, recognising the sound, opened the front door and saluted. Superintendent Yateley, expectant and alert, confronted him. ‘Where?’ he asked.

‘This way, sir,’ Linton replied.

He led the superintendent into the cloakroom and secured the lock behind them. Yateley glanced at the body and then rapidly round the room. ‘Who found him?’ he asked.

‘Dr Thornborough and I between us, sir.’

‘Good. Now tell me what you know about it.’

Linton gave an account of his sojourn in the consulting-room and of the events which followed it. Yateley listened attentively.

‘You’ve done pretty well so far, Linton,’ he said. ‘Now, let’s get the main facts perfectly clear. You heard this Mr Fransham go into the cloakroom and lock the door behind him?’

‘I heard somebody go in, sir, but of course I couldn’t see who it was.’

‘You did not hear the door open or shut again until you broke it down?’

‘No, sir.’

‘There was nobody in the room but the dead man when you broke in?’

‘No, sir. I’m perfectly certain of that.’

‘You have found no trace of any weapon which could have caused this wound?’

‘No trace at all, sir. But I haven’t moved the body to look underneath it.’

‘Quite right.’ The superintendent took a piece of chalk from his pocket and drew a line round the body as it lay on the floor.

‘Now help me to lift him on one side,’ he said.

Removal of the body disclosed nothing whatever and Yateley frowned.

‘He can’t have been struck by any sort of missile, or it would be still in the room,’ he said. ‘All right, Linton, you stay here and have another search. Look through all those coats on the pegs, in the dead man’s clothing and everywhere. I’m going to get statements from everybody on the premises. Where’s the doctor, to begin with?’

‘In the dining-room, sir, with Mrs Thornborough and another lady.’

Yateley left the cloakroom, walked across the hall and opened the dining-room door. Dr Thornborough looked up as he did so, and the superintendent beckoned to him. With an anxious glance at his wife, who was sitting bowed in a chair with an older woman bending over her, the doctor stepped out into the hall.

‘Bad business, this, doctor,’ said Yateley sympathetically. ‘I’d like to hear what you can tell me about it, if you don’t mind. Where can we have a quiet talk?’

‘Better come into the consulting-room,’ Dr Thornborough replied, absently running his fingers through his hair. ‘But I can’t tell you anything about it, I’m afraid. It’s as much as I can do to bring myself to realise that it has happened.’

Yateley made no reply until they were both in the consulting-room with the door shut behind them. ‘This must have been a terrible shock to you, doctor,’ he said then. ‘The dead man was your wife’s uncle, I understand?’

Dr Thornborough nodded. ‘Yes, that’s right,’ he replied. ‘My wife is naturally terribly upset. She has always been very fond of him.’

‘You told Mr Linton that Mr Fransham lived in London. He drove down here at your invitation, I presume?’

‘That’s just what I can’t understand. He told my wife when he arrived that he had a letter from me asking him to come down to lunch today. But I assure you that I had never written him any such letter. In fact, his coming here this week might have been very awkward.’

‘Why was that, doctor?’

‘Because my wife’s mother happens to be staying with us. Fransham was her brother-in-law, but they never managed to hit it off and they’ve avoided one another for years.’

‘What was the reason for this mutual dislike?’

‘I don’t think there was any real reason. Fransham didn’t approve of his brother Tom’s choice when he married, and that didn’t tend to amicable relations. Then Tom got killed in the war while Robert, my wife’s uncle, stayed at home and made a lot of money in munitions. Robert Fransham didn’t take much interest in his brother’s widow and it was a grievance on her part that he didn’t make her a handsome allowance. Add a certain amount of mutual antipathy to all this and you’ll get some idea of the situation. I may say that my mother-in-law is a woman of decided views and doesn’t mince matters if anything upsets her.’

‘Was Mr Robert Fransham married?’

‘No, he had never been. He was what is known as a confirmed bachelor. Before and during the war he was a partner in Fransham and Innes, Brass Founders, of Birmingham. The firm was always fairly prosperous, I believe, and after war broke out it did extremely well on government contracts. In 1920 Fransham sold the business and retired. He then took over the remainder of the lease of No. 4, Cheveley Street and settled down to live there.’

‘What establishment did he keep up?’

‘He had a married couple, Mr and Mrs Stowell, and a chauffeur, Coates. Coates is here now with the car.’

‘Mr Fransham was in affluent circumstances, of course?’

‘Judging by appearances, he was. But I haven’t the slightest idea what he was actually worth. He never spoke about his money and I’m bound to say that he hated parting with it.’

‘You were not in the house when he arrived, were you, doctor?’

‘No, I hadn’t come back from my rounds. The first I knew of anybody being here was when I saw his car in the garage. I didn’t recognise it, for he had bought a new car within the past few weeks and I hadn’t seen him since. But I recognised Coates, his chauffeur, as soon as I set eyes on him, and I knew that the visitor must be Uncle Bob.’

‘You were surprised to find him here?’

‘I was, very much surprised. Uncle Bob has driven down here often enough, of course, but never without letting us know that he was coming. I asked Coates if Uncle Bob had brought anybody down with him and he said no. Then I came straight into the house where I met my wife. She told me that she had seen Uncle Bob who was then in the cloakroom.’

‘What did you do next, doctor?’

‘I came in here. My wife told me that Linton was waiting to see me. He began telling me something about Alfie Prince. But I’m afraid I hardly listened to him. I was worried about Uncle Bob.’

‘Why were you worried, doctor?’

‘For two reasons. First because my mother-in-law was here. As I told you, she and Uncle Bob have avoided one another for years. I was afraid that if they met unexpectedly in this house neither of them would believe that it was accidental. They’d think that my wife and I had arranged it between us. Family reconciliation and all that. You know what I mean. And both of them would have bitterly resented anything of the kind.’

‘They didn’t meet, as it happened, did they, doctor?’

‘No, my mother-in-law was upstairs when Uncle Bob arrived. My idea was to see Uncle Bob before they met and explain the situation to him. I couldn’t very well turn my mother-in-law out, but Uncle Bob could have gone down to the Red Lion and had his lunch there if he didn’t want to see her. So I went to the cloakroom door and asked Uncle Bob to let me in.’

‘You got no reply, I understand?’

‘I couldn’t hear a sound inside the cloakroom. And that was the second reason for my being worried. I’m not Uncle Bob’s regular medical attendant, but I have looked over him once or twice when he’s been staying here. His heart wasn’t any too sound, though there was no reason why he shouldn’t have lived for years. But I was afraid that the heat might have been too much for him and that he’d fainted. That’s why I got Linton to break the door down for me.’

‘You described the nature of the wound to Linton. Can you suggest what could have caused it?’

‘Only a heavy blow. That blow might have been inflicted by the impact of some missile such as a stone. Or by the stroke of a weapon such as a hammer.’

‘As you drove down the carriage-way towards the garage you passed the cloakroom window. Did you happen to notice whether it was open or not?’

‘I didn’t. By that time I had seen the car standing in the garage and my attention was concentrated upon that, wondering whose it could be.’

‘Where was Coates the chauffeur when you first saw this car?’

‘I saw somebody standing beside the car but I didn’t recognise him at once. The garage is dark and my eyes were accustomed to the bright sunshine. It wasn’t until I got close up to the man that I saw it was Coates.’

‘When Linton told you that he had come to see you about Alfie Prince, didn’t you tell him that you had seen the man himself quite recently?’

‘I did. I saw him in the distance just before I turned into the drive gates. You can’t mistake that old army greatcoat that Alfie always wears. I don’t believe there’s another one so ragged in the whole county.’

‘Where was he when you saw him?’

‘I had come from Mark Farm. Before I turned in at the drive gate, Alfie crossed the road about two or three hundred yards in front of me. He must have come through a gap in the hedge out of that building land that lies on the other side of my wall.’

‘Did you notice where he went to?’

‘I can’t say that I did. I wasn’t at the moment particularly interested in Alfie’s movements.’

‘Thanks very much, doctor. That’s all I want to ask you for the moment. There’s just one suggestion I should like to make. Under the circumstances, wouldn’t it be as well to have another opinion upon the wound? It would serve to confirm your evidence.’

‘That’s a very good idea,’ replied Dr Thornborough readily. ‘I’ll ring up my partner, Dorrington. He’ll come along and tell us what he thinks about it.’

‘I’d be glad if you’d do that, doctor. And now, do you think Mrs Thornborough is in a fit state for me to see her?’

‘I’ll ask her,’ replied Dr Thornborough doubtfully. ‘But you’ll understand that if she doesn’t feel up to it, it might be better to wait.’

He went out, and a minute or two later Mrs Thornborough entered the consulting-room. She was obviously very much upset but she made a brave attempt to smile at the superintendent. ‘I’m ready to answer any questions you like to ask me, Mr Yateley,’ she said.

‘That’s extremely kind of you, Mrs Thornborough,’ the superintendent replied. ‘I can imagine your feelings and I won’t keep you more than a minute or two. To begin with, where were you when Mr Fransham arrived?’

‘In the drawing-room, waiting for my husband to come back. And when Lucy showed Uncle Bob in, I was utterly flabbergasted. He’s never come down here unexpectedly like that and I was afraid that something must be wrong. And that’s the first thing I asked him.’

‘What was his reply, Mrs Thornborough?’

‘He seemed very much surprised. He asked me why I should think anything was wrong when he’d driven down to lunch on Cyril’s express invitation. This puzzled me more than ever, for Cyril had said nothing to me about it. And then Uncle Bob went on to say that he’d had a letter from Cyril this morning asking him to drive down to lunch today for he had something very particular to ask him about.

‘I couldn’t begin to understand this, for Cyril wouldn’t do a thing like that without telling me about it. And I was afraid that mother, who’d gone up a few minutes before to get ready for lunch, would come down any moment. So I told Uncle Bob that if he wanted to wash his hands he knew where to go, and then when I’d seen Lucy I went upstairs to tell mother that Uncle Bob was here. I said that if she didn’t care to meet him she could have a tray sent up to her, but she wouldn’t hear of that. She said that she wasn’t afraid of Uncle Bob or anyone else, and if he chose to make himself unpleasant, two could play at that game. She and Uncle Bob never got on very well, you know.’

‘So the doctor has told me, Mrs Thornborough. What did you do next?’

‘I came downstairs and waited for my husband. When he came in I told him about Uncle Bob and then went into the drawing-room. A minute or two later I heard him calling Uncle Bob through the cloakroom door. Then there was a crash and I wondered if I’d better go and see what was the matter. But before I’d made up my mind mother came downstairs and at the same time Mary sounded the lunch gong. So mother and I went into the dining-room, where we’ve been ever since. And after we’d waited for a few minutes Cyril came in and told us what had happened.’

At this moment Dr Thornborough entered the consulting-room. He went up to his wife and laid his hand on her shoulder. ‘Feeling all right, Betty?’ he asked.

‘Not too bad,’ she replied. ‘I’ve just been telling Mr Yateley what happened.’

‘Mrs Thornborough has been most kind,’ said the superintendent. ‘I’ll leave her in your care now, doctor. I wonder if you’d mind asking Coates the chauffeur to come and see me?’

Dr and Mrs Thornborough left the room and a few minutes later Coates appeared. He was a man of about forty-five, with a hoarse voice and a rather surly expression. In reply to the superintendent’s questions he said that he had been with Mr Fransham for five years, during which time he had lived in the house. Mr Fransham had always been a good master to him and very considerate. Mr Fransham never drove the car himself, but liked to go out most afternoons, either to visit friends or for a run in the country. He had very often driven Mr Fransham to Adderminster. Perhaps half a dozen times or more a year. Mrs Thornborough had frequently visited her uncle at No. 4, Cheveley Street, but Coates could not remember that Dr Thornborough had ever done so. It was fifty-three miles by mileage indicator from Cheveley Street to Epidaurus.

‘When did Mr Fransham tell you that he wanted you to drive him down here today?’ the superintendent asked.

‘Just after he had his breakfast this morning, sir,’ Coates replied. ‘He sent for me and told me that he’d have to cancel the orders given me yesterday, for he’d had a letter from the doctor asking him to drive down to lunch very specially.’

‘What orders had he given you yesterday, Coates?’

‘Well, sir, I’d told him that since the new car had done nearly a thousand miles, it was time that the makers looked over her to see that everything was right. So Mr Fransham had told me to take the car round to the Armstrong-Siddeley place in Cricklewood and leave her there over the weekend. But this morning he told me that would have to wait till Monday and said that a hundred miles one way or the other wouldn’t make much difference. So we started away at a quarter past eleven and were here sharp at one o’clock. Mr Fransham doesn’t like being driven too fast.’

‘You’ve heard that Mr Fransham has been killed, of course?’

‘The doctor told me so just now when he sent me in here, sir. And I’m bound to say that it sounds very queer to me.’

‘It is, very queer, Coates. You say that you got here at one o’clock sharp? Tell me exactly what you did when you arrived?’

‘I drove in at the gates, sir, stopped outside the front door, and rang the bell. Lucy opened the door and Mr Fransham went into the house. Then I drove the car round to the garage at the back. I looked round the car, then lit a cigarette. Then I waited where I was, knowing that somebody would come out and ask me into the house. I didn’t like to go in until I was invited, you understand, sir. And while I was waiting the doctor came along and spoke to me.’

‘Were you in the garage the whole time that you were waiting?’

‘Yes, sir, I was expecting somebody to come and call me into the house at any moment.’

‘Did anyone enter the carriage-way leading to the garage during that time?’

Coates shook his head with an air of decision. ‘No, sir, I’m quite sure that they didn’t,’ he replied.

‘How can you be so sure of that? You can’t have been looking down the carriage-way all the time? You told me yourself that the first thing you did after you got here was to look round the car.’

‘That’s quite right, sir. But all the time I was looking round the car I had an eye open for somebody coming out of the house. If there had been anybody in the carriage-way during that time I should have seen them, I’m quite certain of that. And after I’d finished looking round the car, which didn’t take more than a couple of minutes, I just stood inside the garage doorway smoking a fag. And I don’t see how anybody could have come into the carriage-way then, without my noticing them.’

This seemed reasonable enough. The distance from the garage door to the cloakroom window was not more than fifty yards in a direct line. It was incredible that anyone could have approached the window unknown to an observer at the door, himself on the alert for an expected summons. Yateley slightly changed the import of his questioning. ‘When you found the garage empty you guessed that Dr Thornborough was out on his rounds, I suppose?’

‘Well, I thought he might be, sir, but I couldn’t be sure. Sometimes when Mr Fransham was down here with his car, the doctor would leave his own somewhere in the town so as to leave the garage free for Mr Fransham’s car. There isn’t room for both, you see, sir.’

‘You saw the doctor’s car turn in at the drive gate, I suppose?’

‘Yes, sir, I caught sight of it as soon as it came round the corner. The doctor came straight down the carriage-way, stopped just outside the garage and then got out and spoke to me.’

‘Do you remember what he said?’

‘He said, “Why, Coates, I am surprised to see you! Did you drive Mr Fransham down?” I told him that Mr Fransham was indoors and he hurried into the house by the garden door.’

Yateley dismissed Coates and then joined his subordinate in the cloakroom. ‘Well, Linton, have you found anything?’ he asked.

‘Nothing very much, I’m afraid, sir,’ Linton replied. ‘Nothing that could possibly account for the wound, that is. I’ve been right through the room and I can’t find a stone or anything that could have been thrown. Nor is there anything that could have made a wound of the shape the doctor described. There are a couple of walking-sticks, but they are both round with a crooked handle. And there are a couple of lady’s umbrellas, but one has a round ball at the end and the other a plain handle with a strap. I’ve put them out in the corner, sir, for you to look at.’

‘Where did you find these things?’ the superintendent asked.

‘Hanging on the pegs, sir, behind the coats.’

Yateley very soon satisfied himself that the blow could not have been inflicted by any of the walking-sticks or umbrellas. ‘Have you been through Mr Fransham’s clothing?’ he asked.

‘Yes, sir, I have, but there’s nothing there. Nothing that could have caused the wound, that is. But I did find something else that I think you’ll like to see, sir.’

He opened his notebook and took out a folded sheet of paper. ‘I found that in Mr Fransham’s wallet, sir.’

Yateley took the paper and unfolded it. It was a single sheet of notepaper embossed with the address Epidaurus, Adderminster. Under this was typed a date, June 11, and a letter, also typewritten, followed:

‘DEAR UNCLE BOB, A situation has arisen here upon which Betty and myself should very much like your advice. The matter is urgent, since a decision will have to be reached upon it by Monday afternoon at the latest. I should have come up to London to see you, but you know how difficult it is for me to leave my practice at a moment’s notice. Could you possibly drive down to lunch tomorrow, Saturday, and we could discuss things afterwards? It would relieve Betty’s mind enormously if you would do this. We shall expect you unless we get a wire in the morning to say that you can’t come. But do try to manage it, for really it’s most important. Yours affectionately,’

The letter was signed in ink, ‘Cyril.’

Yateley frowned as he folded up the letter and put it in his pocket. ‘Have you had your dinner yet, Linton?’ he asked.

‘No, sir, I haven’t.’

‘Well, I’ll see that you’re relieved as soon as it can be managed. Meanwhile, I want you to stay here. If Dr Dorrington comes let him examine the body. But see that nothing whatever is taken from this room, or brought into it, either, for that matter.’

Yateley returned to the consulting-room where he found Dr Thornborough sitting at his desk. The doctor looked up as he came in.

‘Oh there you are, superintendent,’ he said. ‘I’ve been on to Dorrington and he’s promised to come along here as soon as he’s finished lunch.’

‘Thank you, doctor,’ Yateley replied. ‘We may find a second opinion useful. I wonder if you could let me have a sheet of notepaper? I want to jot down a couple of notes while they’re still fresh in my mind.’

Dr Thornborough stretched out his hand to a stationery rack which stood on his desk. ‘Here you are,’ he said. ‘I thought you fellows always carried notebooks?’

‘So we do, but for once I’ve left mine behind.’ Yateley scribbled a few words on the sheet of notepaper which the doctor had given him. ‘I shall have to get back to my office now,’ he said curtly. ‘You’ll see me later in the day.’ And with that he left the room.

He went out by the front door and thence by the drive to the carriage-way. It had occurred to him that some trace of the weapon might be found there. But after a few minutes’ investigation he was disappointed. The surface of the carriage-way was of concrete, and smoothly swept. Upon it was no sign of a missile, or of a weapon of any description.

He returned to his car and drove to the police station. His first care was to give orders to Sergeant Cload for Linton’s relief. This done he put a telephone call through to the Chief Constable of the County.