Chapter 17 #2
“Horace, what are you talking about?” asked Susan in astonishment. “Miss Dalrymple, d’you think he’s wandering? Shall I call Sister back?”
“No, don’t. He’s not wandering, I’m afraid.”
“But you two young ladies’ll be wandering right out of here,” Tom said sternly, “if you can’t keep your mouths closed. Tell you what, Miss Dalrymple, why don’t you take notes for me?”
“The devil finds work … ?” Daisy took the notebook and pencil he held out.
He twinkled at her, but spoke to Bott. “Go on, sir.”
“He pulled out a gun and ordered me to jump in the river,” said Bott in a tone of remembered shock.
“I told him I can’t swim, and he said he knew, he was there when his brother pushed me in.
He wanted me dead! Well, I wasn’t going to oblige, you can be sure.
A ruddy fool I’d be to jump in and drown myself, when he couldn’t shoot me. At least, that’s what I thought.”
“Why was that, sir?”
“As I pointed out to him, a bullet-riddled corpse would be impossible to explain away as an accident. He said no one would connect him with it, but he was obviously getting the wind up. I don’t think he expected me to resist: his mighty lordship commands and the lower orders run to obey!
” Bott sneered, and Daisy remembered the “lower orders” who had died at Lord DeLancey’s command in the War.
“He didn’t want to shoot me,” Bott continued.
“He started gabbling about how being shot was a much more painful death than drowning. He was waving the gun around like a peashooter. I shouted at him to be careful, but he fired into the air. I still wouldn’t jump into the river for him.
Then he lost his head, I think. He aimed at me.
I took a couple of steps backwards. I couldn’t help myself, with that pistol pointing at me, though I still didn’t really believe he’d shoot.
“He did, of course.” Gingerly, Bott felt the bandage. “Either his hand was shaking or he’s a rotten shot, or I wouldn’t be here talking to you.”
“Oh Horace!”
“It’s all right, Susie. I’ve come off with nothing worse than a headache.”
“But even if he nearly missed you, you could’ve drowned!”
“Maybe he meant to miss. Maybe he still hoped to frighten me into drowning myself, and hitting me was the mistake. Either way, I’ll see his nibs rot in gaol!” Bott snarled.
Susan was on the point of speaking again but Tom held up his hand. “How did you come to fall in, sir?” he asked. “That is, did Lord DeLancey push you, or drop you in when you were unconscious?”
“I don’t think so,” Bott said unwillingly, obviously reluctant to give DeLancey the benefit of the doubt.
“As far as I can remember, I was caught off balance, stepping back, when the bullet hit me, and I just staggered backwards into the river. But I couldn’t swear to it.
I was seeing stars. I don’t remember hitting the water, so I suppose I was unconscious by then. ”
To Daisy, his resisting the temptation to accuse DeLancey of pushing or throwing him into the Thames gave his story the final ring of truth. She was already inclined to believe him. He hadn’t had time to make up a tale, and anyway he was clearly the victim.
What she was dying to know was why Lord DeLancey had wanted to kill Bott. She would have asked long ago, but she thought Tom Tring was quite capable of sending her out if she interrupted, even though he allowed Susan a certain leeway. The sergeant had his own way of doing things.
Susan was about to speak again but Tom held up his hand to stop her. “Right, sir,” he said, “and just what was it took you to Temple Island at that hour of the morning to meet Lord DeLancey?”
“His request, Sergeant. After the Chief Inspector and I had our little chat, Gladstone gave me a note he had found on the hall table, with my name on it. A leaf torn from a pocketbook, it appeared to be. It said, ‘I must talk to you,’ and proposed the time and place. That’s all. None of the social amenities for me.”
“Signed?”
“No, but I guessed who it was from. Anyone in the house who wanted to speak to me had no need to write a note, nor to suggest such an inconvenient meeting place. And I heard Wells mention that DeLancey had turned up that afternoon. Not a difficult deduction.”
“And why would Lord DeLancey want to talk to you, sir?”
Tom’s stolid enquiry was followed by silence. Daisy glanced up. Bott had a distinctly wary look in his eye.
“I don’t know,” he said brusquely. “I suppose because I wasn’t there when he talked to the rest of the crew about his brother.”
“No need to go to Temple Island for that, was there, sir?” Tom’s mild, placid manner remained unchanged. He seemed almost bovine, an impression Daisy knew to be grossly misleading. “I’m sure you must’ve guessed, or deduced, something more, or you wouldn’t’ve turned up.”
“I don’t know, I tell you.” Bott was fretful now. “Must you pester me? I was nearly killed a few hours ago. I’m not up to an interrogation.”
“Leave him alone!” said Susan. “Can’t you see he’s not well? Are you achy, Horace, or feverish?” She laid her hand on his forehead. “Shall I ring for Sister?”
“No! For heaven’s sake, don’t fuss, Susan.”
“Perhaps you’ll feel better for a drink of water, sir. Your mouth’s dry from talking, I expect.”
At Bott’s grudging nod, Tom raised him a little and Susan gave him the glass of water from the night-stand. He drank thirstily, then complained, “It tastes just like the Thames.”
“Comes straight out of the river, I dare say. Now, just one or two more questions, sir, and I’ll leave you in peace. You must see we have to know why you agreed to meet Lord DeLancey. He wasn’t by any chance blackmailing you?”
“Blackmailing me?” Bott snorted with an unamused laugh. “What the deuce do I have that he might want? Besides, you’ve got it the wrong way round, haven’t you? Blackmailers are supposed to be done in by their victims.”
“It’s always possible,” Tom said weightily, “that you attacked him, and he shot you in self-defence.”
“Here now, don’t you try to make me into the villain of the piece!
” cried Bott. “If you want to know, he thought I was going to blackmail him. I went to Temple Island for the pleasure of laughing in his face when he tried to bribe me to keep quiet. Only he didn’t try to bribe me, he tried to kill me. ”
“And what, sir, do you know about Lord DeLancey that he’d rather you kept quiet about?”
There was a long silence. Daisy discovered she was holding her breath, and she thought Susan was, too. Tom waited with massive patience. The struggle in Horace Bott’s mind was apparent on his face.
“I’ll tell you!” he burst out at last. “Cedric DeLancey killed his brother!”