Chapter 18 #2
“What changed your mind, Mr. Bott?”
“I don’t suppose I would have gone through with it.” Bott closed his eyes and spoke in a dreary monotone. “It was just—I went back to the house and up to my room. Everyone knew
I’d been shoved in the river that morning and had a long walk back from Henley, but not one of the b …
—not one of them came to see if I was all right, let alone to ask me to join them downstairs.
I sat and seethed till I couldn’t think straight, then I decided to show the lot of them.
It was stupid. I don’t suppose I’d have actually done it. ”
In the brief silence that followed his confession, Susan took his hand again and squeezed it.
Daisy, feeling fearfully guilty that she had not enquired after him, looked at Alec.
The compassion in the gaze he fixed on Bott made her wonder how much he suffered from the slights of those who considered themselves his superiors.
She would make it all up to him when they were married, she vowed passionately.
His professional mask descended again. In a matter-of-fact voice, he said, “Just to clear up a loose end, Mr. Bott, how did you intend to hole the boat?”
“I thought of using a boat-hook, but I couldn’t be sure of finding one in the boat-house in the dark.
The moon was shining, but I couldn’t remember if there were any windows.
With the door open, I reckoned there’d be just enough light to pick my way to the boat.
So I took one of my tent-pegs and the mallet. ”
“We didn’t find the mallet.”
“No.” Opening his eyes, Bott gave him a sour grin. “I tossed the peg into the bushes in a panic when I thought the DeLanceys were coming out and might catch me. But I had enough sense left to hang on to my one and only mallet.”
“Fair enough.”
“You believe me?” Bott asked incredulously. “About everything?”
“I’m inclined to. It’s a pity we have no concrete evidence of Lord DeLancey’s involvement. He must have been wearing gloves that night, too.”
“Typical namby-pamby swell.”
“What about his note?” said Daisy. “That would be proof the invitation to meet on Temple Island came from him.”
Alec swung round to stare at her, not with annoyance at her interruption but with grey eyes narrowed in thought. At that moment, the door opened and Sister stuck her head in.
“Time for my patient to rest, Chief Inspector. I really must insist.”
“One moment more, Sister. Mr. Bott, the note wasn’t found in your pockets when we pulled you out. What did you do with it?”
“Chucked it in the waste-paper basket in my room.”
“Thank you for your cooperation, and yours, Miss Hopgood. He’s all yours, Sister.
Come along, Piper.” Alec strode from the room, Piper loping after him and Daisy trotting to keep up.
She pulled the door shut behind her as he turned, saw her, and said, “You’re not staying to support Miss Hopgood, Daisy? ”
“She doesn’t need me any more. Bott’s conscious and you’ve finished questioning him. Besides, I don’t want to be stranded here if you’re leaving. When I telephoned, Gladstone said Tish is all right, but I want to see her and tell her Bott is recovering.”
“What you mean is, you don’t want to be left out of what happens next.”
“That too,” she said with a sunny smile.
His answering smile was rueful. “Well, I haven’t time to argue. Ernie, I want you to stay here, standing guard outside
Bott’s door. A Henley constable should be on his way to join you—I sent Sergeant Tring to phone for one. I doubt Lord DeLancey will try again to kill Bott in such a public setting, but it’s always possible.”
“Right, Chief. Do I arrest him if he turns up?”
“Only if he somehow gets past you and you actually witness an attempt on Bott’s life. Otherwise, try to stall him until I get back. If that fails, if he leaves, telephone me at the Cheringhams’.”
“Right, Chief.”
“Good man. Come along, Daisy.” He set off at a fast pace along the passage.
“Do you really think Lord DeLancey might try again to murder Bott?” she asked, scurrying at his side.
“Not if he has his wits about him, but he does seem prone to losing his head.”
“That’s what caused his trouble in the War,” Daisy panted.
Regarding her with eyebrows raised, Alec slowed his pace. “It was? I’d better have the rest of that story, now that he’s under suspicion.”
“I only know what Tish told me. Cherry said Lord DeLancey panicked and led his men into a massacre, only he led it from behind and he was the only one to come out unscathed. There were just two or three other survivors, I think. It was hushed up because of his father’s position, but that’s why he’s in a blue funk about gossip. ”
“A coward, in fact, who goes off the rails in the face of danger.”
“He can’t help being afraid,” Daisy argued, finding herself unexpectedly defending Cedric DeLancey. “He didn’t ask to be sent into battle. I mean, I expect he could have stayed at
home if he’d tried, Lord Bicester being a member of the government, but the social pressure was enormous. Michael said it took far more courage to withstand public opinion than …”
“Michael?” Alec stopped and frowned down at her, his dark, bushy eyebrows meeting over his nose.
“The man I was engaged to. He was a conscientious objector. You needn’t look so beastly contemptuous.” Daisy blinked back tears. “He joined a Friends’ Ambulance Unit and was blown up by a land-mine.”
Taking her hands, Alec said quietly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look contemptuous. You must explain to me … but not now.”
“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up now.” She sniffed. “Here comes Mr. Tring.”
A quick squeeze of the hands and Alec was all business again, striding to meet the sergeant.
“Just coming to see if Sister’d chucked you out yet, Chief. What’s next?”
“About turn, Tom. We’re going back to Bulawayo.”
“Right, Chief. There’s a Henley man on his way. Not to Crowswood Place?”
“No, if DeLancey’s there, he’ll keep.”
“You’re going to look for his note to Bott?” Daisy asked, once more trotting to keep up.
“Yes, it may be the only concrete evidence we can find. I’m just afraid DeLancey may remember it and go to hunt for it. He can use the excuse that he’s fetching his brother’s stuff to get upstairs to search.”
“He doesn’t know Bott bunged it in the WPB,” Daisy pointed out breathlessly.
“No, but he could hope to find it in Bott’s room. Oh, the
dickens! Would the maids have emptied the waste-paper baskets by now?”
“It’s Sunday,” Daisy panted, emerging into hazy sunshine a step behind Alec, Tom on her heels. With relief she saw the yellow Chummy parked nearby. “I don’t expect the local girls will be in today, so the bedrooms will only get a sketchy going-over. I’ll hop into the back seat, Mr. Tring.”
“P’raps you’d better, miss.”
The little Austin bounced beneath Tom’s weight descending on the front passenger seat as Alec pressed the self-starter. The engine, tuned by Scotland Yard’s motor mechanic, purred to life. They zipped away down the street.
“Since Ernie and I left DeLancey, he’s had plenty of time to get to Bulawayo and destroy that note,” Alec said, swinging the car around a corner.
Fortunately, the traffic was still Sunday-morning sparse after last night’s celebrations.
“I can only hope he wasn’t too swift on the uptake, or that he dithered about what to do. ”
“I just hope we don’t have to go through the dustbins,” said Tom.
They turned into the Marlow Road. Clear of the town, Alec stepped on the accelerator. Daisy half-expected to see Lord DeLancey speeding towards them on his way to Townlands Hospital to bump off Bott. However, they passed the gates of Crowswood Place without meeting any motor-cars.
“Here, Chief, we’re not at Brooklands,” Tom protested as the Austin rocketed around a bend. “It won’t do us any good to arrive with broken necks.”
“Sorry.” Alec eased up the merest trifle. “I’m busy kicking myself for not telephoning from the hospital. The house is full of hefty young men quite capable of stopping DeLancey.”
“Cherry knows Lord DeLancey’s under suspicion,” Daisy reminded him, hanging onto the side of the car. “I expect he’ll be keeping an eye on him if he’s turned up already. So if you’re using your brake-pedal foot to kick yourself, kindly stop it.”
Alec and Tom both laughed, but there was no noticeable diminution in their speed until they reached Bulawayo and turned into the drive.
On the front lawn, Poindexter, Wells, Leigh, and Meredith were playing croquet. Alec pulled up nearby. “Have you seen Lord DeLancey?” he called.
“No, s-sir, not today.”
“We’ve been out here for an hour or so,” Leigh added.
“Thanks.” Alec waved and continued to the house. “Tom, find a spot indoors where you can see him drive up, assuming he does. Let him get inside, well out of the way, then let the air out of his tyres. If he’s not after the note, we’ll explain later.”
“What are you going to do, Alec?” Daisy asked, climbing out from the back seat.
“Try to catch him red-handed, without giving him a chance to destroy the note.” Alec rang the door-bell as they all went into the house. The butler came through the baize door at the rear of the hall. “Gladstone, I want to station Sergeant Tring at a window overlooking the drive.”
“The dining room, sir?” Imperturbable, Gladstone opened the dining-room door, and Tom went to take up his post.
“We’re expecting Lord DeLancey.” Alec said.
“To fetch Mr. DeLancey’s things, sir?”
“So he’ll no doubt say. When you answer the door, please direct him upstairs, don’t accompany him.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Which is Bott’s room?”
“Last door on the left in the right wing, sir. Opposite the back stairs.”
“There’s a door to the stairs?”
“Oh yes, sir. The usual swinging door padded against sound.”
“Perfect. Thank you.” Alec headed for the stairs. When Daisy followed, he turned to her and shook his head. “You’re to stay well out of this. Cedric DeLancey is unpredictable and therefore dangerous.”
“I know, darling. I shan’t get in the way, I promise, but I simply must go up and change my clothes.”
He looked her up and down and his grey eyes lit with laughter. “It might be a good idea, love,” he admitted.
“You’re not in much better shape yourself,” Daisy retorted.
She pottered about in bedroom and bathroom, intending to keep her promise yet reluctant to go too far away.
After all, Alec was in danger, too. She was in Tish’s bedroom when she heard a motor-car drive up.
Discreetly peering from the window, she saw Lord DeLancey step out of a dark green Bentley sports car.
Gladstone must have been watching with Tom, because he admitted Lord DeLancey at once. A minute or two later, Tom came out and knelt by the Bentley to open the valve of the first tyre.
“Hi, what’s up?” called one of the croquet-players, and they all abandoned their game to cluster around the sergeant.
Daisy did not wait to try to hear what Tom said. Crossing the room, she eased open the door, and peeped out. No sign
of Lord DeLancey on the landing or in the opposite passage. Then Alec emerged from the back stairs, crept across the passage, and opened the door of Bott’s room.
Footsteps thundered up the stairs. Meredith and Wells charged across the landing, Leigh and Poindexter close behind. Between them, Daisy caught a glimpse of Alec turning his head to glance at them, looking annoyed. Then he lurched as DeLancey shoved past him.
“View halloo!” cried Leigh.
DeLancey darted through the swinging door to the back stairs and disappeared. After him went the oarsmen, in full cry.
“Tally-ho!”
“Gone away!”
“Yoicks!”
“So-ho! So-ho!”
“Damn!” Alec glowered after the pack, then turned and headed for the main stairs. Seeing Daisy, he gestured back towards Bott’s room. “Daisy, take a look in there, would you?”
“Right-oh.” She sped to the linen-room. Bott’s camp-bed practically filled the floor space, with a frightful Victorian plant-stand of painted papier-maché for a night-table. A shelf had been cleared of linens for his things. These were in disarray, tent-pegs scattered over rumpled shirts and vests.
On the bed lay a coat-hanger, a jacket half inside-out, a wicker waste-paper basket, and a small heap of its contents: an empty Woodbines packet, dead matches, a tobacconist’s receipt, a pass for the General Enclosure, and a crumpled sheet of paper.
Lord DeLancey couldn’t possibly have missed it. Alec must have interrupted him just as he emptied the WPB.
Snatching it up, Daisy paused just long enough to make sure it was indeed the invitation to the Temple Island rendezvous. Then she dashed after Alec.
Half-way down the stairs, she saw him at the front door with Tom Tring and Gladstone.
“Alec, I’ve got it!”
She waved the note as all three looked round. Alec took a step towards her but suddenly his gaze shifted to beyond her. On the next to bottom step, Daisy turned to peer over the banisters and saw the green baize service door at the rear of the hall swinging open.
Lord DeLancey rushed into the hall. As the door swung shut behind him, Daisy heard the baying of the hounds on his trail. His pale, drawn face and terrified eyes reminded her of why she had always refused to go fox-hunting.
Alec moved to meet him. “Lord DeLancey …”
With a cry of despair, he swerved and darted through the nearest door, into the library. Wells burst through the baize door just in time to spot him. View-hallooing triumphantly, he and his friends galumphed after their quarry.
But the fox was not yet brought to bay.
“He’ll go through a window,” Alec cried, changing direction. “Tom, we’ll try to head him off.” He ran into the drawing-room, the sergeant close behind.
Hurrying after them, Daisy was no longer sure whose side she was on.