Chapter 19 #3
“Who can fathom the mind of a murderer? Perhaps he’s beginning to be disgusted at the lengths to which his first murder is leading him.
Can you imagine him standing over Bincombe, the bloody bat in his hands, satisfaction turning to horror.
He flings the weapon away from him, then realizes he must take it away to polish off his fingerprints. ”
“All the crooks know about dabs these days,” Tom said grumpily.
“But they don’t always remember to act on the knowledge. Perhaps he thought there was a chance of our believing the whole thing was an accident.”
“What, with no blood on the bloody tree-trunk? And the pot exploded through spontaneous combustion, I suppose!”
“Who can fathom the mind of a murderer?” Alec repeated. “He was hurried, remember. Too rushed to make sure Bincombe was dead. Daisy might arrive at any moment.”
“Good job she didn’t arrive too soon.”
“Yes.” Alec’s agreement was heartfelt. “At any rate, we’ll have to have a look for the weapon in case it has prints on it. I’ve asked Sir Leonard for a couple of extra men. If we don’t find the damn thing
tonight, at least we can stop up the holes so no one’s sneaking out in the small hours to drop it in the lake.”
“If it’s a cricket bat, it’d float. Even that drip of a Devenish boy would know that.”
“You are feeling contrary this evening, Tom!”
“Three murders in one day, two of ‘em while we were here. It’s enough to make anyone contrary.”
“True. Anyway, Teddy Devenish is already out of the picture for this one.”
“Worse luck. I fancied him for doing in his grandma,” Tom said with regret, then brightened. “That’s still possible, though, unless his ma’s got an alibi for Lord F and Bincombe.”
“His mother protecting him? Conceivable, though I rather doubt she’d think of using a cricket bat, or know where to find one.
We’re going to have to do it the slow way, asking everyone whom they were talking to at tea and after dinner, whom they saw and who was missing.
With luck at least we’ll eliminate the majority.
Two at a time will speed things up, and there’s plenty of room in the library for one of us at each end. ”
“Right, Chief. Just make sure I get the ones without handles to their names!”
“If you like, though I think you’re quite capable of coping with any of them, with what Ernie calls your ‘posh vocab.’ First, though, as he’s busy with the medicos, would you go up and get Daisy’s and Lucy’s lists?
Maybe we’ll be able to cross off a few names before we start. I’d send Stebbins but …”
“Those new boots of his! It’d take him half an hour. Right, Chief, I’ll be back in a trice.”
Alec returned to the doctors. Arbuthnot was closing his bag.
“I’m handing over to Philpotts, Chief Inspector. I’ll send out a nurse to sit with him overnight. He’s not likely to regain consciousness.”
“We’ll take care of him tomorrow,” said Nancy Fotheringay, “won’t we, Angela?”
“I’m not a trained nurse,” Angela said in alarm. “I wouldn’t know what to do if he gets worse.”
“If he gets worse, he’ll be dead,” Arbuthnot told her.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say it’s that bad,” the police surgeon contradicted him quite cheerfully.
“Time will tell. Anyway, I’ll send another nurse in the morning. I’m sure Lord Haverhill is not going to quibble at the expense. May I say, Fletcher, that I most sincerely hope you will not have to call me out again tonight. Or tomorrow, come to that.”
“Believe me, Doctor, you can’t wish it any more than I do. Thank you for turning out so promptly and for ministering to the victim.”
“Only sorry I couldn’t do anything for the previous two. Good night.”
“Good night, sir. Oh, by the way, please don’t mention to anyone, anyone at all, Dr. Philpotts’ comparatively optimistic opinion of the case.”
“I shouldn’t dream of raising false hopes.”
As Arbuthnot trudged away through the greenery, Alec looked down at Lord Gerald’s pallid face and bloodless lips, almost as white as the fresh bandage Nancy was applying with Angela’s assistance. “Do you really see cause for hope, Dr. Philpotts?” he asked quietly, drawing the police surgeon aside.
“Certainly. His pulse isn’t good but it’s better than it was when Arbuthnot first took it.
We agree that a blood transfusion is not called for.
His breathing is shallow but regular. His heart is strong.
We find no apparent indentation in the skull, so we may hope that no fragment of bone is compressing the brain.
There may be a crack; I can’t tell without taking him to a hospital for an X-ray, and it would be most unwise to move him. ”
“Not even to a bed? I gather a bed has been prepared for him on the ground floor.”
“Hmmm.” Philpotts took Lord Gerald’s pulse again, listened to his breathing and his heart with a stethoscope, thumbed back each eyelid in turn and shone a light into his eyes.
“Pupils equal in size,” he grunted. He glanced around the conservatory.
“This is a dashed inconvenient place to care for him. He’ll do better in bed if we’re very careful getting him there.
He was hit with a flat object, by the way, or there might have been more damage.
Less extensive but more concentrated force.
The blow missed the spinal column, thank heaven. ”
“Yes, it’s high, isn’t it. Tall attacker?”
“From Arbuthnot’s description of his original position, I’d say he might have been stooping or crouching, to tie his shoe perhaps.”
“That’s what we thought. Glad to have you confirm it, Doctor.”
“Good job, too. He didn’t have too far to fall. I wouldn’t give much for his chances if there’d been a second blow on the opposite side of the head.”
“All in all, our murderer botched this one,” Alec said thoughtfully. “Either he’s getting nervous or he’s so overconfident he’s not taking pains. Either way, he’s making mistakes, and that makes our job easier.”
“I can only hope,” said the doctor, “that he’s made enough mistakes this time for you to catch him before he has another go!”