Chapter 20 #2
“I gather you attended the autopsy. I don’t want to hear the details, but would you say it produced anything interesting? I don’t mean interesting to you, because Miss Bellamy told me about your taste for the grisly and gruesome, but anything helpful to the investigation.”
“Not really. Dr. Wedderburn says all the injuries were produced in such a short period, just a few seconds, that he can’t tell which killed him, or distinguish between ante and post mortem. There’s one odd thing, though.”
“What’s that?”
“I expect Mr. Fletcher told you about the splinters in Enderby’s neck? He probably didn’t mention that I found them,” Vernon said modestly.
Actually, it was Julia Bellamy who had told Daisy about the splinters, but she saw no reason to disillusion Vernon as to how much—or how little—Alec confided in her. “What about them?” she said.
“Dr. Wedderburn says they weren’t the result of a straight blow. He found abrasion—grazing—and the splinters entered the skin at an angle. It must have been more of a glancing impact. If you were going to hit someone with a cudgel, wouldn’t you strike straight at them?”
“I expect so, though I can’t say I’ve ever considered the matter. But suppose Enderby saw the blow coming and ducked—”
“Oh yes, that must be it,” said Vernon with heartfelt relief.
He must have been afraid of being cheated of the glory of having been the one who found the evidence of murder.
“Wedderburn refused to speculate, said that was the job of the police. If Enderby was near enough to the edge of the cliff, even a glancing blow would have sent him over.”
“It’s funny,” Daisy mused, “I always pictured a cudgel as being sort of smooth and polished. But I suppose there’s no reason why it shouldn’t be splintery.
Or not a proper cudgel, if you know what I mean, just a splintery piece of wood that came to hand.
Alec had better check the hands of his suspects for splinters. ”
“That’s a knacky notion!”
Hearing the envy in his voice, Daisy said generously, “I’ll let you suggest it to him.”
“That’s jolly decent of you, Mrs. Fletcher. But I’ll give you credit, of course.”
“No, don’t do that!” The last thing she wanted was for Alec to know the idea came from her, though she supposed he was bound to guess she’d been talking to Vernon about the autopsy. “You’d have thought of it sooner or later, I’m sure.”
“Perhaps. It’s quite difficult, this detection business, isn’t it? Dr. Thorndyke makes it all seem so obvious and easy.”
“You’re not doing so badly, considering you aren’t even qualified as a doctor yet, let alone a lawyer, and you have no training as a detective. As well as the splinters, you found another clue up on the cliffs, according to Miss Bellamy.”
Vernon crimsoned. “I shouldn’t have told her. And she swore she wouldn’t talk about any of it to anyone,” he added with indignation.
“I’m sure she only told me because I’m the chief inspector’s wife,” Daisy said soothingly, leaving him without a leg to stand on since he, presumably, was confiding in her for the same reason. “Besides, she didn’t tell me what it was you found.”
“Because I wouldn’t say, and I’m sorry but I’m not telling you that bit either, even if you are the chief inspector’s wife.” He was still very pink in the face, and went on with obvious relief, “Ah, Mr. Fletcher seems to have finished with those two. Your turn, ma’am.”
“Hadn’t you better suggest looking for splinters in their hands before they leave?”
“Oh, right-oh!”
He went over to Alec and Horrocks. Anstruther and Baskin exchanged a few words, then joined Daisy.
“Well, at least neither of us is under arrest yet,” said Anstruther. “We’ll wait and escort you back to the house.”
“In the hope that the rain may have let up a bit by then.” Baskin smiled. “Though our sailor claims it’s going to get worse before it blows itself out.”
“Westcombe is sheltered from the high winds but you can bet it’s pretty rough out at sea. Listen!”
Above the drumming of rain on the roof, Daisy heard the rumble of thunder. A flash of lightning suddenly illuminated the hall. She jumped to her feet. “Oh dear! Belinda’s not afraid of thunderstorms but I don’t know about Deva. Perhaps I’d better run back.”
“Not to worry, Mrs. Fletcher, Cecily will take care of them. You don’t want to go out in this unless you have to.”
Another and much brighter flash was followed after a few seconds by a crack of thunder.
“Coming closer,” said Baskin. “Hello, Vernon, having fun?”
“Mr. Fletcher’s asked me to help him again,” the young man said importantly. “If you gentlemen wouldn’t mind stepping over closer to this lamp … Oh, and Mrs. Fletcher, he’d like a word with you now.”
As she moved away, Daisy read nothing but curiosity on the faces of the two suspects—no trace of alarm. Glancing back, she saw Vernon abstracting a pair of tweezers and a magnifying glass from his case. Aha, a splinter hunt!
Horrocks was joining them, notebook in hand, Daisy was glad to see. She sat down on his chair, firmly on Alec’s side of the table.
“I take it this splinter in the hand idea is yours,” he said, resigned.
“Why should you think that, darling?”
“Because he had just been talking to you and he looked back at you twice.” He grinned at her.
“And his manner was definitely sheepish. Of course, a lack of splinters won’t eliminate them, but if either has splinters matching what was found in Enderby’s skin, he’d better have a jolly good explanation. Was that what you came here for?”
“No, I only just thought of it. Don’t forget to check Stebbins—or is he out of it?”
“No, no one saw him working in his garden. But a gardener probably has such tough hands no splinters would penetrate. Same goes for a farmer.”
“You haven’t found Olive Coleman yet?”
“Not yet. I’ve had people out checking all her relatives, not a single one of whom is on the telephone.
No luck so far. We’ve also been trying to find out if she had any particular friends in Malborough, where she went to school.
She left a couple of years ago, at fourteen, like most of these farm-girls, but she might have kept in touch. ”
“Did you know that Sid the beachcomber is her uncle?”
“No! Great Scott, Daisy, how did you find out? Are you sure? Mrs. Coleman never mentioned him.”
“Yes! Chance. Quite sure. She might not have thought of him. He’s Coleman’s brother, not hers, and I expect he keeps well away from the farm. He’s been pretty badly treated, I gather. They’re probably ashamed of him, too. But it’s just possible Olive might have taken refuge in his shack, isn’t it?”
“We’ll certainly have to check.” Alec looked up at the streaming windows as thunder followed lightning. “But not this evening. I can’t send the men out searching the cliffs for his shack in this weather.”
“Mr. Baskin knows where it is. That is, he’s seen it, though I don’t know if he could pinpoint the spot on the map. And it started out as
some sort of shepherd’s hut that Mr. Anstruther knew when he was a boy. But I doubt either of them would happily lead you there in near darkness in the middle of a thunderstorm.”
“It’ll have to wait till tomorrow. If Olive’s there, she won’t be going out either. I’ll send someone up in the morning. Thanks, love. Anything else you know that I don’t?”
“’Fraid not. Not that I know of. Will you be home for dinner?”
“I’m not sure. Don’t wait. By the time I’ve heard Vernon’s report on the post mortem, I rather doubt I’ll have any appetite anyway!”