Chapter 16 #2
“Aw, have a heart, Chief Inspector,” Dugden begged. “Give us a statement.”
“The investigation is proceeding according to plan,” Alec said blandly, and inaccurately. “I’ll speak to the gentlemen of the Press at Henley Police Station this afternoon, if I can find the time.”
“If you have time? No arrest then,” said the other man, disappointed, as the car began to move again.
Running alongside, Dugden pleaded, “Just tell me where the Ambrose crew is putting up.”
“Not likely. And no trespassing, or I’ll have you inside in no time flat.”
“You’re a hard man, Chief Inspector.” The reporters fell behind as the Austin picked up speed along the winding drive.
“Regular pests, those newspapermen,” Piper said disapprovingly.
“Just doing their job, Ernie. They can be useful to us sometimes, so the trick is to ward ’em off without offending them.”
“Like butlers,” the young detective observed.
“More or less.” Alec drew up before the imposing portico. “Luckily we’re too early in the day for the butler to be answering the door, if I’m not mistaken. On the other hand, I’ve been swimming in these trousers.”
Whether or not influenced by the wrinkled, still-damp flannels, the liveried footman who admitted them to the mansion ushered them into the same chilly antechamber. With a degree of frost quite equal to the butler’s, he enquired, “Is his lordship expecting you?”
Alec responded placidly, “I believe Lord DeLancey will agree to see me.”
“I believe his lordship has not come down yet.”
“Go and find out, there’s a good chap. And if not, let him know we’ve arrived, will you? Detective Chief Inspector Fletcher is the name, if you didn’t catch it. From Scotland Yard. We don’t mind waiting.”
The footman’s outraged face intimated as plainly as words that they had not been invited to wait.
However, a Chief Inspector from Scotland Yard was a far cry from the easily intimidated local bobby.
He was not sure of his ground, and a half-suppressed snicker from Piper decided him. Turning red, he left.
“That was unkind,” said Alec, grinning.
“Jumped-up Jack-in-office,” Piper snorted. “He hasn’t even made it out of the uniformed branch.”
Alec laughed. “But if you wrote down what he said in your precious notebook and read it back, you’d find nothing to take exception to,” he pointed out.
“All right, set yourself down somewhere inconspicuous and get your pencils ready. Lord DeLancey may not be the brightest star in the galaxy, but I don’t think he’s stupid enough not to realise a refusal to see me might put ideas into my head. ”
Piper settled on a chair against the wall by the door. Alec crossed to the window. Gazing out at the uninspiring prospect of pillars and yellowish gravel carriage-sweep, he planned exactly what he had to say.
They did not have long to wait. The moment Lord DeLancey entered the room, Alec knew Daisy was right again. The man was pale, his eyes hunted, his face sheened with a film of sweat although the day had scarcely begun to warm up.
Lord DeLancey was afraid, his fear far too evident to be disguised by belligerence. “What the devil do you want at this hour in the morning? Couldn’t it wait? Can’t you let a man eat his breakfast in peace?”
“Have I interrupted your meal, sir?” Alec spared a momentary regret for his own empty stomach. “I beg your pardon. I’d have thought you’d had plenty of time for breakfast since you came in.”
“Came in? Dammit, what do you mean, came in?”
“From the river.”
“The river?” his lordship blustered. “You’ve got the wrong DeLancey, my good man. My brother was the oarsman, not I. You wouldn’t catch me messing about in a boat before breakfast.”
“No?” Alec said softly. He had not mentioned boats. The natural assumption would be that he referred to a stroll on the river-bank. “It’s an … exciting experience. The river is singularly beautiful at daybreak, as I found out for myself this morning.”
“Y-you?” DeLancey’s voice wavered, but he rallied.
“I’m surprised you were able to spare the time from investigating Basil’s death.
Since you did, I’m delighted to hear you enjoyed it, though this is hardly the moment for social chit-chat.
Your river excursion is nothing to do with me. You didn’t see me there.”
“True, I didn’t. But there was a witness.”
Lord DeLancey licked his lips. “W-who?”
“Someone who knows you well by sight,” Alec said with deliberation.
“Someone who went on in the boat after Cheringham and I dived into the Thames in the hope of rescuing Horace Bott. He hadn’t been long in the water, but then it doesn’t take long to drown, though that’s not exactly relevant since he’d been shot in the head. ”
“I can explain! It’s not what you think. It was his own fault, entirely his own fault.”
“Lord DeLancey, it is my duty to advise you that you have the right to remain silent. If you choose to speak, what you say will be taken down and may be used in evidence.”
“I didn’t do anything,” DeLancey gabbled. “I’ve nothing to hide. I just hoped to avoid being mixed up in a thoroughly unpleasant business. The newspapers—but I don’t have to tell you how they ruin lives with unjustified insinuations.”
“No, sir,” Alec agreed stolidly. Given what Daisy had told him of DeLancey’s fear of gossip, his earlier denial was understandable.
“So you did meet Horace Bott on Temple Island early this morning?”
“Yes, yes, I was there. You know I was. You said someone saw me there. If it wasn’t you or Cheringham, who the deuce was it? What’s his name, Cheringham’s friend, the Ambrose crew captain?”
“I’m afraid I can’t reveal that, sir. Why did you meet Bott on the island at dawn?”
“He asked me to.”
“Did he give a reason?
“He said he had something to tell me.”
“That’s all? What did you think he meant, that made you agree to a meeting at such an … unusual time and place?”
“I hoped he had information about Basil’s death.”
“That he had not given me?”
“To sell. People of that class have money-grubbing souls,” DeLancey said self-righteously. “They are quite capable of seeking to make a profit from someone else’s tragedy. Besides, they regard the police as their enemies.”
Alec did not bother to inform him that on the whole the police found small shopkeepers among the most supportive and cooperative of citizens. “Did it not occur to you to suspect Bott of being your brother’s assailant?” he asked.
“Of course it did! He had threatened Basil, as you know. The other Ambrose men are convinced of his guilt.”
“Didn’t that make you think twice about going to meet him in such an isolated place?”
“I couldn’t imagine any reason why he should wish to harm me, but I took precautions. I took a pistol. Not licensed, I’m afraid, Chief Inspector,” he admitted with a feeble attempt at a man-to-man grin. “It’s a Mauser ‘Bolo,’ a souvenir of
the War. I’m sorry I took it with me, but I don’t suppose it really made much difference. A man bent on suicide will find a way.”
Suicide! Alec made an effort to conceal his surprise. Bott had not seemed suicidal at their interview yesterday. Had an evening spent with those who believed him guilty driven him to try to take his own life?
“Perhaps you’d better tell me exactly what happened on Temple Island, sir.”
“Of course. It turned out that Bott wanted to see me in order to apologise for killing Basil—inadvertently, he claimed. He knew he’d be caught, and he’d decided to kill himself rather than face a trial and prison, or hanging.
His life was pretty miserable anyway, since he’d tried to rise above his natural level.
He said he was going to drown himself, but I suppose, seeing the Mauser in my hand, he decided shooting would be easier.
He seized it from me, shot himself in the head, and fell into the river. ”
“There were two shots, Lord DeLancey.”
“Oh yes. One shot went wild before he got it away from me. When he made his grab, I was afraid for a moment that he had changed his mind, that he meant to dispose of the only witness to his confession, so I had my finger on the trigger. It fired when he wrenched it from my hand. But that was not the shot which killed him. The pistol was wholly under his control when he actually put the bullet through his head.”
His lordship was going to be peeved when he discovered he had been misled about Bott’s condition. Alec was in no hurry to disillusion him. “I see,” he said. “You tried to stop him, of course.”
“Of course. As he backed away with the pistol, I rushed at
him. I’m afraid that’s why he moved far enough to fall into the water.”
“Taking your Mauser with him?”
“Yes. No!” Flustered, DeLancey turned red. “Excuse me, Chief Inspector, it was a terrible experience and I don’t like to think about it. Er, no, he dropped the pistol immediately after firing, as he staggered backwards into the river.”
“Dropped it? You’re sure of that?”
“Dropped it. Let go of it. It fell from his hand,” his lordship said testily.
“Odd. Considering where the pistol was found, I’d have expected Bott to fall into a boat, not the water.”
“Oh. Yes. I can explain that. I told you I’ve been trying to forget the whole thing.
You see, I picked up the pistol without thinking, in a state of shock.
As soon as I realised what I’d done, I tossed it away.
I didn’t want anything to do with it! So you found it?
” DeLancey made a half-hearted effort to summon up indignation.
“You gave me the impression you thought it had gone into the river.”
“Sorry, sir, just a bit of a misunderstanding,” Alec prevaricated. “It’s a pity you picked it up. Your fingerprints will be on top of Bott’s.”
“No, they won’t. I was wearing gloves. However hot the days are, it’s damned chilly at dawn.”
His smugness added to Alec’s feeling that his story had been hastily concocted, just in case, despite his denial, he was somehow linked to the events on Temple Island. The gaps in his explanation he still more hastily filled in as they became apparent.
Yet he was not discomposed by the reference to Bott’s fingerprints, which suggested there really had been a struggle
for the weapon. Or else it had not yet dawned on him that the absence of Bott’s fingerprints would give him the lie.
On the other hand, the whole tale could be true, his odd manner caused by shock and his fear of publicity. Either way, Alec was eager to hear Horace Bott’s version of their encounter.
“That will be all for the moment, sir,” he said. “I may have a few more points to clear up later. Let me know, please, if you leave Crowswood. You can contact me through the Henley police.”
“If you insist.” DeLancey preceded Alec and Piper from the anteroom into the hall.
As they turned towards the front door, he caught Alec’s sleeve.
“Look here, Chief Inspector, there surely isn’t any need for my presence at the poor fellow’s suicide to be mentioned?
It’s all over and done with, after all. Nothing will bring him back and it’ll be deuced uncomfortable for me if the Press gets hold of it. ”
“I’m afraid I can’t keep you out of it, sir. The provenance of the Mauser will have to be explained.”
“Damn! Will I have to give evidence? There will be an inquest, I suppose.”
“Oh, I hope not, sir,” Alec said with a keen look. “Though Bott is still unconscious, the doctor at Townlands Hospital seems to think he will make a full recovery.”
Lord DeLancey’s jaw dropped and his face turned pasty.
Stunned? Appalled? Or just furious at being misled?
Fury was what would undoubtedly spring to his lips.
Alec didn’t wait to hear it. DeLancey was not likely to say anything he could not weasel his way out of, but he just might do something stupid if left to his own devices.