Читать книгу Death on the Air: and other stories - Ngaio Marsh, Stella Duffy - Страница 8

Death on the Air was first published in Grand Magazine, 1936

On the 25th of December at 7.30 a.m. Mr Septimus Tonks was found dead beside his wireless set.

It was Emily Parks, an under-housemaid, who discovered him. She butted open the door and entered, carrying mop, duster, and carpet-sweeper. At that precise moment she was greatly startled by a voice that spoke out of the darkness.

‘Good morning, everybody,’ said the voice in superbly inflected syllables, ‘and a Merry Christmas!’

Emily yelped, but not loudly, as she immediately realized what had happened. Mr Tonks had omitted to turn off his wireless before going to bed. She drew back the curtains, revealing a kind of pale murk which was a London Christmas dawn, switched on the light, and saw Septimus.

He was seated in front of the radio. It was a small but expensive set, specially built for him. Septimus sat in an armchair, his back to Emily and his body tilted towards the wireless.

His hands, the fingers curiously bunched, were on the ledge of the cabinet under the tuning and volume knobs. His chest rested against the shelf below and his head leaned on the front panel.

He looked rather as though he was listening intently to the interior secrets of the wireless. His head was bent so that Emily could see the bald top with its trail of oiled hairs. He did not move.

‘Beg pardon, sir,’ gasped Emily. She was again greatly startled. Mr Tonks’ enthusiasm for radio had never before induced him to tune in at seven thirty in the morning.

‘Special Christmas service,’ the cultured voice was saying. Mr Tonks sat very still. Emily, in common with the other servants, was terrified of her master. She did not know whether to go or to stay. She gazed wildly at Septimus and realized that he wore a dinner-jacket. The room was now filled with the clamour of pealing bells.

Emily opened her mouth as wide as it would go and screamed and screamed and screamed…

Chase, the butler, was the first to arrive. He was a pale, flabby man but authoritative. He said: ‘What’s the meaning of this outrage?’ and then saw Septimus. He went to the armchair, bent down, and looked into his master’s face.

He did not lose his head, but said in a loud voice: ‘My Gawd!’ And then to Emily: ‘Shut your face.’ By this vulgarism he betrayed his agitation. He seized Emily by the shoulders and thrust her towards the door, where they were met by Mr Hislop, the secretary, in his dressing-gown.

Mr Hislop said: ‘Good heavens, Chase, what is the meaning—’ and then his voice too was drowned in the clamour of bells and renewed screams.

Chase put his fat white hand over Emily’s mouth.

‘In the study if you please, sir. An accident. Go to your room, will you, and stop that noise or I’ll give you something to make you.’ This to Emily, who bolted down the hall, where she was received by the rest of the staff who had congregated there.

Chase returned to the study with Mr Hislop and locked the door. They both looked down at the body of Septimus Tonks. The secretary was the first to speak.

‘But – but – he’s dead,’ said little Mr Hislop.

‘I suppose there can’t be any doubt,’ whispered Chase.

‘Look at the face. Any doubt! My God!’

Mr Hislop put out a delicate hand towards the bent head and then drew it back. Chase, less fastidious, touched one of the hard wrists, gripped, and then lifted it. The body at once tipped backwards as if it was made of wood. One of the hands knocked against the butler’s face. He sprang back with an oath.

There lay Septimus, his knees and his hands in the air, his terrible face turned up to the light. Chase pointed to the right hand. Two fingers and the thumb were slightly blackened.

Ding, dong, dang, ding,

‘For God’s sake stop those bells,’ cried Mr Hislop. Chase turned off the wall switch. Into the sudden silence came the sound of the door handle being rattled and Guy Tonks’ voice on the other side.

‘Hislop! Mr Hislop! Chase! What’s the matter?’

‘Just a moment, Mr Guy.’ Chase looked at the secretary. ‘You go, sir.’

So it was left to Mr Hislop to break the news to the family. They listened to his stammering revelation in stupefied silence. It was not until Guy, the eldest of the three children, stood in the study that any practical suggestion was made.

‘What has killed him?’ asked Guy.

‘It’s extraordinary,’ burbled Hislop. ‘Extraordinary. He looks as if he’d been—’

‘Galvanized,’ said Guy.

‘We ought to send for a doctor,’ suggested Hislop timidly.

‘Of course. Will you, Mr Hislop? Dr Meadows.’

Hislop went to the telephone and Guy returned to his family. Dr Meadows lived on the other side of the square and arrived in five minutes. He examined the body without moving it. He questioned Chase and Hislop. Chase was very voluble about the burns on the hand. He uttered the word ‘electrocution’ over and over again.

‘I had a cousin, sir, that was struck by lightning. As soon as I saw the hand—’

‘Yes, yes,’ said Dr Meadows. ‘So you said. I can see the burns for myself.’

‘Electrocution,’ repeated Chase. ‘There’ll have to be an inquest.’

Dr Meadows snapped at him, summoned Emily, and then saw the rest of the family – Guy, Arthur, Phillipa, and their mother. They were clustered round a cold grate in the drawing room. Phillipa was on her knees, trying to light the fire.

‘What was it?’ asked Arthur as soon as the doctor came in.

‘Looks like electric shock. Guy, I’ll have a word with you if you please. Phillipa, look after your mother, there’s a good child. Coffee with a dash of brandy. Where are those damn maids? Come on, Guy.’

Alone with Guy, he said they’d have to send for the police.

‘The police!’ Guy’s dark face turned very pale. ‘Why? What’s it got to do with them?’

‘Nothing, as like as not, but they’ll have to be notified. I can’t give a certificate as things are. If it’s electrocution, how did it happen?’

‘But the police!’ said Guy. ‘That’s simply ghastly. Dr Meadows, for God’s sake couldn’t you—?’

‘No,’ said Dr Meadows, ‘I couldn’t. Sorry, Guy, but there it is.’

‘But can’t we wait a moment? Look at him again. You haven’t examined him properly.’

‘I don’t want to move him, that’s why. Pull yourself together, boy. Look here. I’ve got a pal in the CID – Alleyn. He’s a gentleman and all that. He’ll curse me like a fury, but he’ll come if he’s in London, and he’ll make things easier for you. Go back to your mother. I’ll ring Alleyn up.’

That was how it came about that Chief Detective Inspector Roderick Alleyn spent his Christmas Day in harness. As a matter of fact he was on duty, and as he pointed out to Dr Meadows, would have had to turn out and visit his miserable Tonkses in any case. When he did arrive it was with his usual air of remote courtesy. He was accompanied by a tall, thickset officer – Inspector Fox – and by the divisional police surgeon, Dr Meadows took them into the study. Alleyn, in his turn, looked at the horror that had been Septimus.

‘Was he like this when he was found?’

‘No. I understand he was leaning forward with his hands on the ledge of the cabinet. He must have slumped forward and been propped up by the chair arms and the cabinet.’

‘Who moved him?’

‘Chase, the butler. He said he only meant to raise the arm. Rigor is well established.’

Alleyn put his hand behind the rigid neck and pushed. The body fell forward into its original position.

‘There you are, Curtis,’ said Alleyn to the divisional surgeon. He turned to Fox. ‘Get the camera man, will you, Fox?’

The photographer took four shots and departed. Alleyn marked the position of the hands and feet with chalk, made a careful plan of the room and then turned to the doctors.

‘Is it electrocution, do you think?’

‘Looks like it,’ said Curtis. ‘Have to be a p.m. of course.’

‘Of course. Still, look at the hands. Burns. Thumb and two fingers bunched together and exactly the distance between the two knobs apart. He’d been tuning his hurdy-gurdy.’

‘By gum,’ said Inspector Fox, speaking for the first time.

‘D’you mean he got a lethal shock from his radio?’ asked Dr Meadows.

‘I don’t know. I merely conclude he had his hands on the knobs when he died.’

‘It was still going when the housemaid found him. Chase turned it off and got no shock.’

‘Yours, partner,’ said Alleyn, turning to Fox. Fox stooped down to the wall switch.

‘Careful,’ said Alleyn.

‘I’ve got rubber soles,’ said Fox, and switched it on. The radio hummed, gathered volume, and found itself.

‘No-oel, No-o-el,’ it roared. Fox cut it off and pulled out the wall plug.

‘I’d like to have a look inside this set,’ he said.

‘So you shall, old boy, so you shall,’ rejoined Alleyn. ‘Before you begin, I think we’d better move the body. Will you see to that, Meadows? Fox, get Bailey, will you? He’s out in the car.’

Curtis, Hislop, and Meadows carried Septimus Tonks into a spare downstairs room. It was a difficult and horrible business with that contorted body. Dr Meadows came back alone, mopping his brow, to find Detective-Sergeant Bailey, a fingerprint expert, at work on the wireless cabinet.

‘What’s all this?’ asked Dr Meadows. ‘Do you want to find out if he’d been fooling round with the innards?’

‘He,’ said Alleyn, ‘or – somebody else.’

‘Umph!’ Dr Meadows looked at the Inspector. ‘You agree with me, it seems. Do you suspect—?’

‘Suspect? I’m the least suspicious man alive. I’m merely being tidy. Well, Bailey?’

‘I’ve got a good one off the chair arm. That’ll be the deceased’s, won’t it, sir?’

‘No doubt. We’ll check up later. What about the wireless?’

Fox, wearing a glove, pulled off the knob of the volume control.

‘Seems to be OK,’ said Bailey. ‘It’s a sweet bit of work. Not too bad at all, sir.’ He turned his torch into the back of the radio, undid a couple of screws underneath the set, and lifted out the works.

‘What’s the little hole for?’ asked Alleyn.

‘What’s that, sir?’ said Fox.

‘There’s a hole bored through the panel above the knob. About an eighth of an inch in diameter. The rim of the knob hides it. One might easily miss it. Move your torch, Bailey. Yes. There, do you see?’

Fox bent down and uttered a bass growl. A fine needle of light came through the front of the radio.

‘That’s peculiar, sir,’ said Bailey from the other side. ‘I don’t get the idea at all.’

Alleyn pulled out the tuning knob.

‘There’s another one there,’ he murmured. ‘Yes. Nice clean little holes. Newly bored. Unusual, I take it?’

‘Unusual’s the word, sir,’ said Fox.

‘Run away, Meadows,’ said Alleyn.

‘Why the devil?’ asked Dr Meadows indignantly. ‘What are you driving at? Why shouldn’t I be here?’

‘You ought to be with the sorrowing relatives. Where’s your corpse-side manner?’

‘I’ve settled them. What are you up to?’

‘Who’s being suspicious now?’ asked Alleyn mildly. ‘You may stay for a moment. Tell me about the Tonkses. Who are they? What are they? What sort of a man was Septimus?’

‘If you must know, he was a damned unpleasant sort of a man.’

‘Tell me about him.’

Dr Meadows sat down and lit a cigarette.

‘He was a self-made bloke,’ he said, ‘as hard as nails and – well, coarse rather than vulgar.’

‘Like Dr Johnson perhaps?’

‘Not in the least. Don’t interrupt. I’ve known him for twenty five years. His wife was a neighbour of ours in Dorset. Isabel Foreston. I brought the children into this vale of tears and, by jove, in many ways it’s been one for them. It’s an extraordinary household. For the last ten years Isabel’s condition has been the sort that sends these psycho jokers dizzy with rapture. I’m only an out of date GP, and I’d just say she is in an advanced stage of hysterical neurosis. Frightened into fits of her husband.’

‘I can’t understand these holes,’ grumbled Fox to Bailey.

‘Go on, Meadows,’ said Alleyn.

‘I tackled Sep about her eighteen months ago. Told him the trouble was in her mind. He eyed me with a sort of grin on his face and said: “I’m surprised to learn that my wife has enough mentality to—” But look here, Alleyn, I can’t talk about my patients like this. What the devil am I thinking about.’

‘You know perfectly well it’ll go no further unless—’

‘Unless what?’

‘Unless it has to. Do go on.’

But Dr Meadows hurriedly withdrew behind his professional rectitude. All he would say was that Mr Tonks had suffered from high blood pressure and a weak heart, that Guy was in his father’s city office, that Arthur had wanted to study art and had been told to read for law, and that Phillipa wanted to go on the stage and had been told to do nothing of the sort.

‘Bullied his children,’ commented Alleyn.

‘Find out for yourself. I’m off.’ Dr Meadows got as far as the door and came back.

‘Look here,’ he said, ‘I’ll tell you one thing. There was a row here last night. I’d asked Hislop, who’s a sensible little beggar, to let me know if anything happened to upset Mrs Sep. Upset her badly, you know. To be indiscreet again, I said he’d better let me know if Sep cut up rough because Isabel and the young had had about as much of that as they could stand. He was drinking pretty heavily. Hislop rang me up at ten twenty last night to say there’d been a hell of a row; Sep bullying Phips – Phillipa, you know; always call her Phips – in her room. He said Isabel – Mrs Sep – had gone to bed. I’d had a big day and I didn’t want to turn out. I told him to ring again in half an hour if things hadn’t quieted down. I told him to keep out of Sep’s way and stay in his own room, which is next to Phips’, and see if she was all right when Sep cleared out. Hislop was involved. I won’t tell you how. The servants were all out. I said that if I didn’t hear from him in half an hour I’d ring again and if there was no answer I’d know they were all in bed and quiet. I did ring, got no answer, and went to bed myself. That’s all. I’m off. Curtis knows where to find me. You’ll want me for the inquest, I suppose. Goodbye.’

When he had gone Alleyn embarked on a systematic prowl round the room. Fox and Bailey were still deeply engrossed with the wireless.

‘I don’t see how the gentleman could have got a bump-off from the instrument,’ grumbled Fox. ‘These control knobs are quite in order. Everything’s as it should be. Look here, sir.’

He turned on the wall switch and tuned in. There was a prolonged humming.

‘…concludes the programme of Christmas carols,’ said the radio.

‘A very nice tone,’ said Fox approvingly.

‘Here’s something, sir,’ announced Bailey suddenly.

‘Found the sawdust, have you?’ said Alleyn.

‘Got it in one,’ said the startled Bailey.

Alleyn peered into the instrument, using the torch. He scooped up two tiny traces of sawdust from under the holes.

‘Vantage number one,’ said Alleyn. He bent down to the wall plug. ‘Hullo! A two-way adapter. Serves the radio and the radiator. Thought they were illegal. This is a rum business. Let’s have another look at those knobs.’

He had his look. They were the usual wireless fitments, bakelite knobs fitting snugly to the steel shafts that projected from the front panel.

‘As you say,’ he murmured, ‘quite in order. Wait a bit.’ He produced a pocket lens and squinted at one of the shafts. ‘Yees. Do they ever wrap blotting paper round these objects, Fox?’

‘Blotting paper!’ ejaculated Fox. ‘They do not.’

Alleyn scraped at both the shafts with his penknife, holding an envelope underneath. He rose, groaning, and crossed to the desk. ‘A corner torn off the bottom bit of blotch,’ he said presently. ‘No prints on the wireless, I think you said, Bailey?’

‘That’s right,’ agreed Bailey morosely.

‘There’ll be none, or too many, on the blotter, but try, Bailey, try,’ said Alleyn. He wandered about the room, his eyes on the floor; got as far as the window and stopped.

‘Fox!’ he said. ‘A clue. A very palpable clue.’

‘What is it?’ asked Fox.

‘The odd wisp of blotting paper, no less.’ Alleyn’s gaze travelled up the side of the window curtain. ‘Can I believe my eyes?’

He got a chair, stood on the seat, and with his gloved hand pulled the buttons from the ends of the curtain rod.

‘Look at this.’ He turned to the radio, detached the control knobs, and laid them beside the ones he had removed from the curtain rod.

Ten minutes later Inspector Fox knocked on the drawing-room door and was admitted by Guy Tonks. Phillipa had got the fire going and the family was gathered round it. They looked as though they had not moved or spoken to one another for a long time.

It was Phillipa who spoke first to Fox. ‘Do you want one of us?’ she asked.

‘If you please, miss,’ said Fox. ‘Inspector Alleyn would like to see Mr Guy Tonks for a moment, if convenient.’

‘I’ll come,’ said Guy, and led the way to the study. At the door he paused. ‘Is he – my father – still—?’

‘No, no, sir,’ said Fox comfortably. ‘It’s all ship-shape in there again.’

With a lift of his chin Guy opened the door and went in, followed by Fox. Alleyn was alone, seated at the desk. He rose to his feet.

‘You want to speak to me?’ asked Guy.

‘Yes, if I may. This has all been a great shock to you, of course. Won’t you sit down?’

Guy sat in the chair farthest away from the radio.

‘What killed my father? Was it a stroke?’

‘The doctors are not quite certain. There will have to be a postmortem.’

‘Good God! And an inquest?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘Horrible!’ said Guy violently. ‘What do they think was the matter? Why the devil do these quacks have to be so mysterious? What killed him?’

‘They think an electric shock.’

‘How did it happen?’

‘We don’t know. It looks as if he got it from the wireless.’

‘Surely that’s impossible. I thought they were foolproof.’

‘I believe they are, if left to themselves.’

For a second undoubtedly Guy was startled. Then a look of relief came into his eyes. He seemed to relax all over.

‘Of course,’ he said, ‘he was always monkeying about with it. What had he done?’

‘Nothing.’

‘But you said – if it killed him he must have done something to it.’

‘If anyone interfered with the set it was put right afterwards.’

Guy’s lips parted but he did not speak. He had gone very white.

‘So you see,’ said Alleyn, ‘that your father could not have done anything.’

‘Then it was not the radio that killed him.’

‘That we hope will be determined by the postmortem.’

‘I don’t know anything about wireless,’ said Guy suddenly. ‘I don’t understand. This doesn’t seem to make sense. Nobody ever touched the thing except my father. He was most particular about it. Nobody went near the wireless.’

‘I see. He was an enthusiast?’

‘Yes, it was his only enthusiasm except – except his business.’

‘One of my men is a bit of an expert,’ Alleyn said. ‘He says this is a remarkably good set. You are not an expert, you say. Is there anyone in the house who is?’

‘My young brother was interested at one time. He’s given it up. My father wouldn’t allow another radio in the house.’

‘Perhaps he may be able to suggest something.’

‘But if the thing’s all right now—’

‘We’ve got to explore every possibility.’

‘You speak as if – as – if—’

‘I speak as I am bound to speak before there has been an inquest,’ said Alleyn. ‘Had anyone a grudge against your father, Mr Tonks?’

Up went Guy’s chin again. He looked Alleyn squarely in the eyes.

‘Almost everyone who knew him,’ said Guy.

‘Is that an exaggeration?’

‘No. You think he was murdered, don’t you?’

Alleyn suddenly pointed to the desk beside him.

‘Have you ever seen those before?’ he asked abruptly. Guy stared at two black knobs that lay side by side on an ashtray.

‘Those?’ he said. ‘No, What are they?’

‘I believe they are the agents of your father’s death.’

The study door opened and Arthur Tonks came in.

‘Guy,’ he said, ‘what’s happening? We can’t stay cooped up together all day. I can’t stand it. For God’s sake, what happened to him?’

‘They think those things killed him,’ said Guy.

‘Those?’ For a split second Arthur’s glance slewed to the curtain rods. Then, with a characteristic flicker of his eyelids, he looked away again.

‘What do you mean?’ he asked Alleyn.

‘Will you try one of those knobs on the shaft of the volume control?’

‘But,’ said Arthur, ‘they’re metal.’

‘It’s disconnected,’ said Alleyn.

Arthur picked one of the knobs from the tray, turned to the radio, and fitted the knob over one of the exposed shafts.

‘It’s too loose,’ he said quickly, ‘it would fall off.’

‘Not if it was packed – with blotting paper, for instance.’

‘Where did you find these things?’ demanded Arthur.

‘I think you recognized them, didn’t you? I saw you glance at the curtain rod.’

‘Of course I recognized them. I did a portrait of Phillipa against those curtains when – he – was away last year. I’ve painted the damn things.’

‘Look here,’ interrupted Guy, ‘exactly what are you driving at, Mr Alleyn? If you mean to suggest that my brother—’

‘I!’ cried Arthur. ‘What’s it got to do with me? Why should you suppose—’

‘I found traces of blotting paper on the shafts and inside the metal knobs,’ said Alleyn. ‘It suggested a substitution of the metal knobs for the bakelite ones. It is remarkable, don’t you think, that they should so closely resemble one another? If you examine them, of course, you find they are not identical. Still, the difference is scarcely perceptible.’

Arthur did not answer this. He was still looking at the wireless.

‘I’ve always wanted to have a look at this set,’ he said surprisingly.

‘You are free to do so now,’ said Alleyn politely. ‘We have finished with it for the time being.’

‘Look here,’ said Arthur suddenly, ‘suppose metal knobs were substituted for bakelite ones, it couldn’t kill him. He wouldn’t get a shock at all. Both the controls are grounded.’

‘Have you noticed those very small holes drilled through the panel?’ asked Alleyn. ‘Should they be there, do you think?’

Arthur peered at the little steel shafts. ‘By God, he’s right, Guy,’ he said. ‘That’s how it was done.’

‘Inspector Fox,’ said Alleyn, ‘tells me those holes could be used for conducting wires and that a lead could be taken from the – the transformer, is it? – to one of the knobs.’

‘And the other connected to earth,’ said Fox. ‘It’s a job for an expert. He could get three hundred volts or so that way.’

‘That’s not good enough,’ said Arthur quickly; ‘there wouldn’t be enough current to do any damage – only a few hundredths of an amp.’

‘I’m not an expert,’ said Alleyn, ‘but I’m sure you’re right. Why were the holes drilled then? Do you imagine someone wanted to play a practical joke on your father?’

‘A practical joke? On him?’ Arthur gave an unpleasant screech of laughter. ‘Do you hear that, Guy?’

‘Shut up,’ said Guy. ‘After all, he is dead.’

‘It seems almost too good to be true, doesn’t it?’

‘Don’t be a bloody fool, Arthur. Pull yourself together. Can’t you see what this means? They think he’s been murdered.’

‘Murdered! They’re wrong. None of us had the nerve for that, Mr Inspector. Look at me. My hands are so shaky they told me I’d never be able to paint. That dates from when I was a kid and he shut me up in the cellars for a night. Look at me. Look at Guy. He’s not so vulnerable, but he caved in like the rest of us. We were conditioned to surrender. Do you know—’

‘Wait a moment,’ said Alleyn quietly. ‘Your brother is quite right, you know. You’d better think before you speak. This may be a case of homicide.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Guy quickly. ‘That’s extraordinarily decent of you. Arthur’s a bit above himself. It’s a shock.’

‘The relief, you mean,’ said Arthur. ‘Don’t be such an ass, I didn’t kill him and they’ll find it out soon enough. Nobody killed him. There must be some explanation.’

‘I suggest that you listen to me,’ said Alleyn. ‘I’m going to put several questions to both of you. You need not answer them, but it will be more sensible to do so. I understand no one but your father touched this radio. Did any of you ever come into this room while it was in use?’

‘Not unless he wanted to vary the programme with a little bullying,’ said Arthur.

Alleyn turned to Guy, who was glaring at his brother.

‘I want to know exactly what happened in this house last night. As far as the doctors can tell us, your father died not less than three and not more than eight hours before he was found. We must try to fix the time as accurately as possible.’

‘I saw him at about a quarter to nine,’ began Guy slowly. ‘I was going out to a supper party at the Savoy and had come downstairs. He was crossing the hall from the drawing room to his room.’

‘Did you see him after a quarter to nine, Mr Arthur?’

‘No. I heard him, though. He was working in here with Hislop. Hislop had asked to go away for Christmas. Quite enough. My father discovered some urgent correspondence. Really, Guy, you know, he was pathological. I’m sure Dr Meadows thinks so.’

‘When did you hear him?’ asked Alleyn.

‘Some time after Guy had gone. I was working on a drawing in my room upstairs. It’s above his. I heard him bawling at little Hislop. It must have been before ten o’clock, because I went out to a studio party at ten. I heard him bawling as I crossed the hall.’

‘And when,’ said Alleyn, ‘did you both return?’

‘I came home at about twenty past twelve,’ said Guy immediately. ‘I can fix the time because we had gone on to Chez Carlo, and they had a midnight stunt there. We left immediately afterwards. I came home in a taxi. The radio was on full blast.’

‘You heard no voices?’

‘None. Just the wireless.’

‘And you, Mr Arthur?’

‘Lord knows when I got in. After one. The house was in darkness. Not a sound.’

‘You had your own key?’

‘Yes,’ said Guy. ‘Each of us has one. They’re always left on a hook in the lobby. When I came in I noticed Arthur’s was gone.’

‘What about the others? How did you know it was his?’

‘Mother hasn’t got one and Phips lost hers weeks ago. Anyway, I knew they were staying in and that it must be Arthur who was out.’

‘Thank you,’ said Arthur ironically.

‘You didn’t look in the study when you came in,’ Alleyn asked him.

‘Good Lord, no,’ said Arthur as if the suggestion was fantastic. ‘I say,’ he said suddenly, ‘I suppose he was sitting here – dead. That’s a queer thought.’ He laughed nervously. ‘Just sitting here, behind the door in the dark.’

‘How do you know it was in the dark?’

‘What d’you mean? Of course it was. There was no light under the door.’

‘I see. Now do you two mind joining your mother again? Perhaps your sister will be kind enough to come in here for a moment. Fox ask her, will you?’

Fox returned to the drawing room with Guy and Arthur and remained there, blandly unconscious of any embarrassment his presence might cause the Tonkses. Bailey was already there, ostensibly examining the electric points.

Phillipa went to the study at once. Her first remark was characteristic. ‘Can I be of any help?’ asked Phillipa.

‘It’s extremely nice of you to put it like that,’ said Alleyn. ‘I don’t want to worry you for long. I’m sure this discovery has been a shock to you.’

‘Probably,’ said Phillipa. Alleyn glanced quickly at her. ‘I mean,’ she explained, ‘that I suppose I must be shocked but I can’t feel anything much. I just want to get it all over as soon as possible. And then think. Please tell me what has happened.’

Alleyn told her they believed her father had been electrocuted and that the circumstances were unusual and puzzling. He said nothing to suggest that the police suspected murder.

‘I don’t think I’ll be much help,’ said Phillipa, ‘but go ahead.’

‘I want to try to discover who was the last person to see your father or speak to him.’

‘I should think very likely I was,’ said Phillipa composedly. ‘I had a row with him before I went to bed.’

‘What about?’

‘I don’t see that it matters.’

Alleyn considered this. When he spoke again it was with deliberation.

‘Look here,’ he said, ‘I think there is very little doubt that your father was killed by an electric shock from his wireless set. As far as I know the circumstances are unique. Radios are normally incapable of giving a lethal shock to anyone. We have examined the cabinet and are inclined to think that its internal arrangements were disturbed last night. Very radically disturbed. Your father may have experimented with it. If anything happened to interrupt or upset him, it is possible that in the excitement of the moment he made some dangerous readjustment.’

‘You don’t believe that, do you?’ asked Phillipa calmly.

‘Since you ask me,’ said Alleyn, ‘no.’

‘I see,’ said Phillipa; ‘you think he was murdered, but you’re not sure.’ She had gone very white, but she spoke crisply. ‘Naturally you want to find out about my row.’

‘About everything that happened last evening,’ amended Alleyn.

‘What happened was this,’ said Phillipa; ‘I came into the hall some time after ten. I’d heard Arthur go out and had-looked at the clock at five past. I ran into my father’s secretary, Richard Hislop. He turned aside, but not before I saw…not quickly enough. I blurted out: “You’re crying.” We looked at each other. I asked him why he stood it. None of the other secretaries could. He said he had to. He’s a widower with two children. There have been doctor’s bills and things. I needn’t tell you about his…about his damnable servitude to my father nor about the refinements of cruelty he’d had to put up with. I think my father was mad, really mad, I mean. Richard gabbled it all out to me higgledy-piggledy in a sort of horrified whisper. He’s been here two years, but I’d never realized until that moment that we…that…’ A faint flush came into her cheeks. ‘He’s such a funny little man. Not at all the sort I’ve always thought…not good-looking or exciting or anything.’

She stopped, looking bewildered.

‘Yes?’ said Alleyn.

‘Well, you see – I suddenly realized I was in love with him. He realized it too. He said: “Of course, it’s quite hopeless, you know. Us, I mean. Laughable, almost.” Then I put my arms round his neck and kissed him. It was very odd, but it seemed quite natural. The point is my father came out of this room into the hall and saw us.’

‘That was bad luck,’ said Alleyn.

‘Yes, it was. My father really seemed delighted. He almost licked his lips. Richard’s efficiency had irritated my father for a long time. It was difficult to find excuses for being beastly to him. Now, of course…He ordered Richard to the study and me to my room. He followed me upstairs. Richard tried to come too, but I asked him not to. My father…I needn’t tell you what he said. He put the worst possible construction on what he’d seen. He was absolutely foul, screaming at me like a madman. He was insane. Perhaps it was DTs. He drank terribly, you know, I dare say it’s silly of me to tell you all this.’

‘No,’ said Alleyn.

‘I can’t feel anything at all. Not even relief. The boys are frankly relieved. I can’t feel afraid either.’ She stared meditatively at Alleyn. ‘Innocent people needn’t feel afraid, need they?’

‘It’s an axiom of police investigation,’ said Alleyn and wondered if indeed she was innocent.

‘It just can’t be murder,’ said Phillipa. ‘We were all too much afraid to kill him. I believe he’d win even if you murdered him. He’d hit back somehow.’ She put her hands to her eyes. ‘I’m all muddled,’ she said.

‘I think you are more upset than you realize. I’ll be as quick as I can. Your father made this scene in your room. You say he screamed. Did anyone hear him?’

‘Yes. Mummy did. She came in.’

‘What happened?’

‘I said: “Go away, darling, it’s all right.” I didn’t want her to be involved. He nearly killed her with the things he did. Sometimes he’d…we never knew what happened between them. It was all secret, like a door shutting quietly as you walk along a passage.’

‘Did she go away?’ ,

‘Not at once. He told her he’d found out that Richard and I were lovers. He said…it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to tell you. She was terrified. He was stabbing at her in some way I couldn’t understand. Then, quite suddenly, he told her to go to her own room. She went at once and he followed her. He locked me in. That’s the last I saw of him, but I heard him go downstairs later.’

‘Were you locked in all night?’

‘No. Richard Hislop’s room is next to mine. He came up and spoke through the wall to me. He wanted to unlock the door, but I said better not in case – he – came back. Then, much later, Guy came home. As he passed my door I tapped on it. The key was in the lock and he turned it.’

‘Did you tell him what had happened?’

‘Just that there’d been a row. He only stayed a moment.’

‘Can you hear the radio from your room?’

She seemed surprised.

‘The wireless? Why, yes. Faintly.’

‘Did you hear it after your father returned to the study?’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘Think. While you lay awake all that long time until your brother came home?’

‘I’ll try. When he came out and found Richard and me, it was not going. They had been working, you see. No, I can’t remember hearing it at all unless – wait a moment. Yes. After he had gone back to the study from mother’s room I remember there was a loud crash of static. Very loud. Then I think it was quiet for some time. I fancy I heard it again later. Oh, I’ve remembered something else. After the static my bedside radiator went out. I suppose there was something wrong with the electric supply. That would account for both, wouldn’t it? The heater went on again about ten minutes later.’

‘And did the radio begin again then, do you think?’

‘I don’t know. I’m very vague about that. It started again sometime before I went to sleep.’

‘Thank you very much indeed. I won’t bother you any longer now.’

‘All right,’ said Phillipa calmly, and went away.

Alleyn sent for Chase and questioned him about the rest of the staff and about the discovery of the body. Emily was summoned and dealt with. When she departed, awe-struck but complacent, Alleyn turned to the butler.

‘Chase,’ he said, ‘had your master any peculiar habits?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘In regard to his use of the wireless?’

‘I beg your pardon, sir. I thought you meant generally speaking.’

‘Well, then, generally speaking.’

‘If I may say so, sir, he was a mass of them.’

‘How long have you been with him?’

‘Two months, sir, and due to leave at the end of this week.’

‘Oh. Why are you leaving?’

Chase produced the classic remark of his kind.

‘There are some things,’ he said, ‘that flesh and blood will not stand, sir. One of them’s being spoke to like Mr Tonks spoke to his staff.’

‘Ah. His peculiar habits, in fact?’

‘It’s my opinion, sir, he was mad. Stark, staring.’

‘With regard to the radio. Did he tinker with it?’

‘I can’t say I’ve ever noticed, sir. I believe he knew quite a lot about wireless.’ .

‘When he tuned the thing, had he any particular method? Any characteristic attitude or gesture?’

‘I don’t think so, sir. I never noticed, and yet I’ve often come into the room when he was at it. I can seem to see him now, sir.’

‘Yes, yes,’ said Alleyn swiftly. ‘That’s what we want. A clear mental picture. How was it now? Like this?’

In a moment he was across the room and seated in Septimus’s chair. He swung round to the cabinet and raised his right hand to the tuning control.

‘Like this?’

‘No, sir,’ said Chase promptly, ‘that’s not him at all. Both hands it should be.’

‘Ah.’ Up went Alleyn’s left hand to the volume control. ‘More like this?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Chase slowly. ‘But there’s something else and I can’t recollect what it was. Something he was always doing. It’s in the back of my head. You know, sir. Just on the edge of my memory, as you might say.’

‘I know.’

‘It’s a kind – something – to do with irritation,’ said Chase slowly.

‘Irritation? His?’

‘No. It’s no good, sir. I can’t get it.’

‘Perhaps later. Now look here, Chase, what happened to all of you last night? All the servants, I mean.’

‘We were all out, sir. It being Christmas Eve. The mistress sent for me yesterday morning. She said we could take the evening off as soon as I had taken in Mr Tonks’ grog-tray at nine o’clock. So we went,’ ended Chase simply.

‘When?’

‘The rest of the staff got away about nine. I left at ten past, sir, and returned about eleven twenty. The others were back then, and all in bed. I went straight to bed myself, sir.’

‘You came in by a back door, I suppose?’

‘Yes, sir. We’ve been talking it over. None of us noticed anything unusual.’

‘Can you hear the wireless in your part of the house?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Well,’ said Alleyn, looking up from his notes, ‘that’ll do, thank you.’

Before Chase reached the door Fox came in.

‘Beg pardon, sir,’ said Fox, ‘I just want to take a look at the Radio Times on the desk.’

He bent over the paper, wetted a gigantic thumb, and turned a page.

‘That’s it, sir,’ shouted Chase suddenly. ‘That’s what I tried to think of. That’s what he was always doing.’

‘But what?’

‘Licking his fingers, sir. It was a habit,’ said Chase. ‘That’s what he always did when he sat down to the radio. I heard Mr Hislop tell the doctor it nearly drove him demented, the way the master couldn’t touch a thing without first licking his fingers.’

‘Quite so,’ said Alleyn. ‘In about ten minutes, ask Mr Hislop if he will be good enough to come in for a moment. That will be all, thank you, Chase.’

‘Well, sir,’ remarked Fox when Chase had gone, ‘if that’s the case and what I think’s right, it’d certainly make matters worse.’

‘Good heavens, Fox, what an elaborate remark. What does it mean?’

‘If metal knobs were substituted for bakelite ones and fine wires brought through those holes to make contact, then he’d get a bigger bump if he tuned in with damp fingers.’

‘Yes. And he always used both hands. Fox!’

‘Sir.’

‘Approach the Tonkses again. You haven’t left them alone, of course?’

‘Bailey’s in there making out he’s interested in the light switches. He’s found the main switchboard under the stairs. There’s signs of a blown fuse having been fixed recently. In a cupboard underneath there are odd lengths of flex and so on. Same brand as this on the wireless and the heater.’

‘Ah, yes. Could the cord from the adapter to the radiator be brought into play?’

‘By gum,’ said Fox, ‘you’re right! That’s how it was done, Chief. The heavier flex was cut away from the radiator and shoved through. There was a fire, so he wouldn’t want the radiator and wouldn’t notice.’

‘It might have been done that way, certainly, but there’s little to prove it. Return to the bereaved Tonkses, my Fox, and ask prettily if any of them remember Septimus’s peculiarities when tuning his wireless.’

Fox met little Mr Hislop at the door and left him alone with Alleyn. Phillipa had been right, reflected the Inspector, when she said Richard Hislop was not a noticeable man. He was nondescript. Grey eyes, drab hair; rather pale, rather short, rather insignificant; and yet last night there had flashed up between those two the realization of love. Romantic but rum, thought Alleyn.

‘Do sit down,’ he said. ‘I want you, if you will, to tell me what happened between you and Mr Tonks last evening.’

‘What happened?’

‘Yes. You all dined at eight, I understand. Then you and Mr Tonks came in here?’

‘Yes.’

‘What did you do?’

‘He dictated several letters.’

‘Anything unusual take place?’

‘Oh, no.’

‘Why did you quarrel?’

‘Quarrel!’ The quiet voice jumped a tone. ‘We did not quarrel, Mr Alleyn.’

‘Perhaps that was the wrong word. What upset you?’

‘Phillipa has told you?’

‘Yes. She was wise to do so. What was the matter, Mr Hislop?’

‘Apart from the…what she told you…Mr Tonks was a difficult man to please. I often irritated him. I did so last night.’

‘In what way?’

‘In almost every way. He shouted at me. I was startled and nervous, clumsy with papers, and making mistakes. I wasn’t well. I blundered and then…I…I broke down. I have always irritated him. My very mannerisms—’

‘Had he no irritating mannerisms, himself?’

‘He! My God!’

‘What were they?’

‘I can’t think of anything in particular. It doesn’t matter does it?’

‘Anything to do with the wireless, for instance?’

There was a short silence.

‘No,’ said Hislop.

‘Was the radio on in here last night, after dinner?’

‘For a little while. Not after – after the incident in the hall. At least, I don’t think so. I don’t remember.’

‘What did you do after Miss Phillipa and her father had gone upstairs?’

‘I followed and listened outside the door for a moment.’ He had gone very white and had backed away from the desk.

‘And then?’

‘I heard someone coming. I remembered Dr Meadows had told me to ring him up if there was one of the scenes. I returned here and rang him up. He told me to go to my room and listen. If things got any worse I was to telephone again. Otherwise I was to stay in my room. It is next to hers.’

‘And you did this?’ He nodded. ‘Could you hear what Mr Tonks said to her?’

‘A – a good deal of it.’

‘What did you hear?’

‘He insulted her. Mrs Tonks was there. I was just thinking of ringing Dr Meadows up again when she and Mr Tonks came out and went along the passage, I stayed in my room.’

‘You did not try to speak to Miss Phillipa?’

‘We spoke through the wall. She asked me not to ring Dr Meadows, but to stay in my room. In a little while, perhaps it was as much as twenty minutes – I really don’t know – I heard him come back and go downstairs. I again spoke to Phillipa. She implored me not to do anything and said that she herself would speak to Dr Meadows in the morning. So I waited a little longer and then went to bed.’

‘And to sleep?’

‘My God, no!’

‘Did you hear the wireless again?’

‘Yes. At least I heard static.’

‘Are you an expert on wireless?’

‘No. I know the ordinary things. Nothing much.’

‘How did you come to take this job, Mr Hislop?’

‘I answered an advertisement.’

‘You are sure you don’t remember any particular mannerism of Mr Tonks’s in connection with the radio?’

‘No.’

‘Will you please ask Mrs Tonks if she will be kind enough to speak to me for a moment?’

‘Certainly,’ said Hislop, and went away.

Septimus’s wife came in looking like death. Alleyn got her to sit down and asked her about her movements on the preceding evening. She said she was feeling unwell and dined in her room. She went to bed immediately afterwards. She heard Septimus yelling at Phillipa and went to Phillipa’s room. Septimus accused Mr Hislop and her daughter of ‘terrible things’. She got as far as this and then broke down quietly. Alleyn was very gentle with her. After a little while he learned that Septimus had gone to her room with her and had continued to speak of ‘terrible things’.

‘What sort of things?’ asked Alleyn.

‘He was not responsible,’ said Isabel. ‘He did not know what he was saying. I think he had been drinking.’

She thought he had remained with her for perhaps a quarter of an hour. Possibly longer. He left her abruptly and she heard him go along the passage, past Phillipa’s door, and presumably downstairs. She had stayed awake for a long time. The wireless could not be heard from her room. Alleyn showed her the curtain knobs, but she seemed quite unable to take in their significance. He let her go, summoned Fox, and went over the whole case.

‘What’s your idea on the show?’ he asked when he had finished.

‘Well sir,’ said Fox, in his stolid way, ‘on the face of it the young gentlemen have got alibis. We’ll have to check them up, of course, and I don’t see we can go much further until we have done so.’

‘For the moment,’ said Alleyn, ‘let us suppose Masters Guy and Arthur to be safely established behind cast-iron alibis. What then?’

‘Then we’ve got the young lady, the old lady, the secretary, and the servants.’

‘Let us parade them. But first let us go over the wireless game. You’ll have to watch me here. I gather that the only way in which the radio could be fixed to give Mr Tonks his quietus is like this: Control knobs removed. Holes bored in front panel with fine drill. Metal knobs substituted and packed with blotting paper to insulate them from metal shafts and make them stay put. Heavier flex from adapter to radiator cut and the ends of the wires pushed through the drilled holes to make contact with the new knobs. Thus we have a positive and negative pole. Mr Tonks bridges the gap, gets a mighty wallop as the current passes through him to the earth. The switchboard fuse is blown almost immediately. All this is rigged by murderer while Sep was upstairs bullying wife and daughter. Sep revisited study some time after ten twenty. Whole thing was made ready between ten, when Arthur went out, and the time Sep returned – say, about ten forty five. The murderer reappeared, connected radiator with flex, removed wires, changed back knobs, and left the thing tuned in. Now I take it that the burst of static described by Phillipa and Hislop would be caused by the short-circuit that killed our Septimus?’

‘That’s right.’

‘It also affected all the heaters in the house. Vide Miss Tonks’s radiator.’

‘Yes. He put all that right again. It would be a simple enough matter for anyone who knew how. He’d just have to fix the fuse on the main switchboard.’

‘How long do you say it would take to – what’s the horrible word? – to recondition the whole show?’

‘M’m,’ said Fox deeply. ‘At a guess, sir, fifteen minutes. He’d have to be nippy.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Alleyn. ‘He or she.’

‘I don’t see a female making a success of it,’ grunted Fox. ‘Look here, Chief, you know what I’m thinking. Why did Mr Hislop lie about deceased’s habit of licking his thumbs? You say Hislop told you he remembered nothing and Chase says he overheard him saying the trick nearly drove him dippy.’

‘Exactly,’ said Alleyn. He was silent for so long that Fox felt moved to utter a discreet cough.

‘Eh?’ said Alleyn. ‘Yes, Fox, yes. It’ll have to be done.’ He consulted the telephone directory and dialled a number.

‘May I speak to Dr Meadows? Oh, it’s you, is it? Do you remember Mr Hislop telling you that Septimus Tonks’s trick of wetting his fingers nearly drove Hislop demented. Are you there? You don’t? Sure? All right. All right. Hislop rang you up at ten twenty, you said? And you telephoned him? At eleven. Sure of the times? I see. I’d be glad if you’d come round. Can you? Well, do if you can.’

He hung up the receiver.

‘Get Chase again, will you, Fox?’

Chase, recalled, was most insistent that Mr Hislop had spoken about it to Dr Meadows.

‘It was when Mr Hislop had flu, sir. I went up with the doctor. Mr Hislop had a high temperature and was talking very excited. He kept on and on, saying the master had guessed his ways had driven him crazy and that the master kept on purposely to aggravate. He said if it went on much longer he’d…he didn’t know what he was talking about, sir, really.’

‘What did he say he’d do?’

‘Well, sir, he said he’d – he’d do something desperate to the master. But it was only his rambling, sir. I daresay he wouldn’t remember anything about it.’

‘No,’ said Alleyn, ‘I daresay he wouldn’t.’ When Chase had gone he said to Fox: ‘Go and find out about those boys and their alibis. See if they can put you on to a quick means of checking up. Get Master Guy to corroborate Miss Phillipa’s statement that she was locked in her room.’

Fox had been gone for some time and Alleyn was still busy with his notes when the study door burst open and in came Dr Meadows.

‘Look here, my giddy sleuth-hound,’ he shouted, ‘what’s all this about Hislop? Who says he disliked Sep’s abominable habits?’

‘Chase does. And don’t bawl at me like that. I’m worried.’

‘So am I, blast you. What are you driving at? You can’t imagine that…that poor little broken-down hack is capable of electrocuting anybody, let alone Sep?’

‘I have no imagination,’ said Alleyn wearily.

‘I wish to God I hadn’t called you in. If the wireless killed Sep, it was because he’d monkeyed with it.’

‘And put it right after it had killed him?’

Dr Meadows stared at Alleyn in silence.

‘Now,’ said Alleyn, ‘you’ve got to give me a straight answer, Meadows. Did Hislop, while he was semi-delirious, say that this habit of Tonks’s made him feel like murdering him?’

‘I’d forgotten Chase was there,’ said Dr Meadows.

‘Yes, you’d forgotten that.’

‘But even if he did talk wildly, Alleyn, what of it? Damn it, you can’t arrest a man 6n the strength of a remark made in delirium.’

‘I don’t propose to do so. Another motive has come to light.’

‘You mean – Phips – last night?’

‘Did he tell you about that?’

‘She whispered something to me this morning. I’m very fond of Phips. My God, are you sure of your grounds?’

‘Yes,’ said Alleyn. ‘I’m sorry. I think you’d better go, Meadows.’

‘Are you going to arrest him?’

‘I have to do my job.’

There was a long silence.

‘Yes,’ said Dr Meadows at last. ‘You have to do your job. Goodbye, Alleyn.’

Fox returned to say that Guy and Arthur had never left their parties. He had got hold of two of their friends. Guy and Mrs Tonks confirmed the story of the locked door.