Chapter 17 #2
“Chapel Clerk!” Daisy exclaimed, drawing a heavy frown from Alec.
“Just so, Mrs. Fletcher. I couldn’t in good conscience have made Rumford Chapel Clerk, so it’s fortunate that Dixon is a healthy chap.
Not that I should, in the normal way of things, have considered Rumford for any distinction.
He’s not at all popular among the men, you know.
But when, not long after, the previous Yeoman Gaoler retired, he came to me privately and threatened to .
. . er . . . to make public a certain matter if he didn’t get the post.” Carradine took out a silk handkerchief and mopped his forehead.
“A matter that is no one’s business but my own. ”
His loyal secretary sprang to the rescue.
“I wonder now whether perhaps Rumford was responsible for Abercrombie’s retirement.
He was fit and not so very old, and he hadn’t a great deal to look forward to, just going to live with a sister and her husband.
I remember he seemed uneasy when he asked me for an appointment with you, sir. ”
“It wouldn’t surprise me. That’s water under the bridge. What I wonder is whether he’d have pulled up short and dropped the whole idea if I’d stood firm. I take it he had victims other than myself, Mr. Fletcher?”
“So we believe,” Alec said cautiously. “My people are talking to some of the others now.”
“He was damned—dashed—clever about it, you know. He never asked for more than I could easily afford, and as often as not, it was some favour he wanted, something that cost me nothing, such as giving guided tours to visitors who looked as if they might tip well.” He noticed Daisy’s nod.
“Ah, Mrs. Fletcher, you guessed. No journalist could overlook my daughter’s comment. ”
“Luckily, I’m just writing a story for travellers and would-be travellers, not looking for scandal.”
“I’m afraid I’m pretty sure Rumford does skim something off the top before handing on gratuities to the chapel fund.”
“But otherwise, he’s an excellent guide,” Daisy assured him.
This earned yet another repressive frown from Alec, who said, “I’m surprised he hasn’t used his . . . influence to get out of the midnight assignment.”
“Oh no, darling, it gives him the perfect opportunity for snooping.”
“Daisy!”
“Sorry! I shan’t say another word.”
“Insofar as regulations allow, he does pick and choose his duties,” Carradine confirmed, “but he’s never asked to avoid that one, so Mrs. Fletcher may be right.”
“You’re quite sure you’ve never received a written demand?”
“Never.”
“Has he ever told you exactly what he knows?”
“Nothing but hints,” Carradine said curtly.
“So he may, in fact, not know any particulars.”
“Put about in the wrong quarters, hints would be bad enough. If he’d demanded enormous sums, I might have chanced it, but for a little here and there, the price of a bottle of scotch—it wasn’t worth the risk, let alone murder.”
“And this has been going on for years?”
“Four years. It looks as though he must suddenly have got greedy, doesn’t it? Pushed someone too hard.”
“It’s possible.” Alec was noncommittal. He stood up. “Thank you for your cooperation, sir. I hope I shan’t have to ask for . . . more explicit candour, shall we say, but there will very likely be further questions.”
“I have one for you.” Carradine mopped his forehead again, but his tense shoulders had relaxed somewhat. “What am I to report to the Constable?”
Alec smiled. “You may tell him that the police are making definite progress. Coming, Daisy?”
It was less an enquiry than an order. With a graceful apology to the Governor for barging in, Daisy meekly followed Alec out.
“I should have known better than to hope you would stay away,” he said resignedly, “but just what do you think you’re doing here?”
“I didn’t want to come, darling.”
“Pull the other one; it has bells on.”
“I’m serious! I had no intention of coming, but—”
“It was our fault, Mr. Fletcher.” Carradine’s daughters appeared from nowhere.
“We telephoned.”
“We were in despair.”
“Mrs. Fletcher was our only hope.”
“Aunt Alice made this tremendous pronouncement.”
“She told our father to confess.”
“We were afraid she might tell you he killed Mr. Crabtree.”
“And then you’d arrest him.”
“You haven’t, have you?”
“No, I haven’t. I must talk to Mrs. Tebbit, though. Do you know if she’s available now?”
“I expect so.”
“But we have something to tell you first.”
“At least Fay does.”
“Fay, I don’t think it’s really necessary,” said Daisy. “After what the general has told Alec—”
“But I want to,” said Fay.
“It might help,” her sister said, supporting her. “You never know.”
Alec sighed. “Very well, then. Can you tell me right here?”
Fay cast a look at the door of her father’s study. “Oh no, not here.”
“The aunts are in the Council Chamber.”
“Would you mind coming into our sitting room?”
“It’s a bit of a mess, but the chairs are quite comfy.”
“You’ll come too, won’t you, Mrs. Fletcher?” Fay begged.
A large gramophone cabinet dominated the small sitting room. Decorated in bright, jazzy colours, the room was awash in gramophone records, magazines, scarves flung over the backs of chairs, and an open, half-eaten box of chocolates. Fay hastily removed a laddered stocking from one seat.
The window opened onto the balcony. Alec went over to look out. “A nice spot to sit in summer,” he said.
“We’re not allowed out.”
“It’s not safe.”
“Daddy put his foot through.”
“They patched it up.”
“But some of the beams need replacing.”
“The railing’s rickety, too.”
“It takes forever to get things done here.”
“Daddy says there are dozens of layers of bureaucracy between him and the roofers.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.”
“Do sit down,” Brenda invited.
“We’re not supposed to have men in here.”
“But it’s all right—”
“Because you’re a policeman—”
“And Mrs. Fletcher is here, too.”
“Would you like coffee?”
“It must be just about time for elevenses.”
“Not for me, thank you,” Alec said with a touch of impatience.
“Later perhaps,” said Daisy. Just visible from the corner of her eye, the box of chocs tantalized her.
On her own strict instructions, Alec never bought her chocolates, because she tended to scoff the lot.
She’d never have a boyish figure to suit the modish straight up and down look (surely the tide of fashion would bring back curves soon?), but there was no need to supply unnecessary temptation.
Brenda cleared a slew of magazines off the seat of the last of the three armchairs and sat down, and Fay perched on the arm. “Fire away,” she said.
“I take it Rumford is our subject. Has he been pestering you, or someone you know of, other than the general?”
“Just me,” Fay said regretfully, as though she’d have liked to present him with a long list of Rumford’s victims. She told the tale of Rumford’s extorting cigarettes. To Daisy’s surprise, Alec seemed genuinely interested.
“He never asked for money?”
“Not a penny.”
“Did you tell anyone other than your sister?”
“I mentioned it to Ray—Lieutenant Jardyne—just joking about it. He was furious, but I made him promise not to confront Mr. Rumford, because it would only get back to Daddy.”
“Ah.” The way Alec uttered Tom Tring’s favourite monosyllable told Daisy he thought the information might be useful.
Alec asked both girls a couple more questions without learning anything else, but he considered himself well repaid for giving Fay his time. Thanking them, he said, “Would you mind going to ask Mrs. Tebbit if she can see me now?”
“She’ll be thrilled.”
“You don’t still think Daddy killed Mr. Crabtree, do you, Mr. Fletcher?”
“It’s my job to keep an open mind, but I can tell you he’s moved down a few places on my list.”
“Oh, do you have a little list?”
“Like in the Mikado?”
“ ‘They’d none of them be missed,’ ” Fay carolled.
“But Daddy would be missed.”
“Off you go, girls,” said Daisy. “The sooner Alec clears up this case, the sooner you can stop worrying about your father.”
They scampered out. Alec turned to Daisy to send her home as peremptorily as she had dismissed Brenda and Fay, but she got her word in first. “Darling, how lucky you didn’t take my word for it that Fay had nothing useful to add.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, for a start, I saw you prick up your ears when they told you about the balcony.”
“I did not prick up my ears!” he said, revolted.
“That’s what it looked like to me, though I don’t suppose they noticed. My guess is, you thought someone might have climbed down that way, but they’d hardly try it at the risk of going through the roof or knocking over the railing. Doesn’t that mean the Governor couldn’t have done it?”
“Probably, assuming the girls are telling the truth. It’s easily checked.”
“And I’ve worked out why you were interested in Rumford cadging cigarettes.
If he’d bother to blackmail for such a minor return, it’s more likely that the Governor was telling the truth about never being asked for more than he could easily afford.
But perhaps Rumford suddenly got greedy.
Perhaps he’s decided he wants to retire. ”
Alec recalled Macleod telling him Rumford had rejected his advice to retire and move far away from the river for his health.
Suppose he had actually intended merely to postpone retirement for a few months while he built up his nest egg.
But did he have a nest egg? Piper had found no cash and no bankbooks.
And if he’d spent his ill-gotten gains as he received them, what had he spent them on?
“That,” Daisy was saying, “would explain why someone was driven to murder him now, not earlier in his iniquitous career.”
“Yes, you’re right. I should have considered that possibility.”
“Never mind, you can consider it now. Now tell me about Lieutenant Jardyne.”
“He’s not on the list of blackmail victims.” Alec’s mind was still on the question of a nest egg, or he wouldn’t have given so much away.
“You have a list? Darling, how helpful. Don’t tell me Rumford gave it to you?”
“Not exactly. Or perhaps I should say not deliberately. I asked him who might want to kill him.”
“Sneaky! Jardyne wasn’t on the list?”
“No.”
“But he has a motive of sorts, in protecting Fay from Rumford’s clutches.”
“I don’t know that I’d call pocketing the odd packet of cigarettes ‘clutches.’ ”
“But Jardyne might. He was out and about, earlier at least. He’s a silly boy, and he has a crush on Fay and a precarious hold on his temper.
Suppose he just intended to tell Rumford to stop victimizing her.
Rumford would have been sure to make some nasty comment—he has a nasty tongue—so Jardyne lost his temper. ”
“And found a partizan?”
“Oh! Well,” said Daisy optimistically, “you never know where you’ll find one lying about.”
Alec laughed. “However, he could hardly have had words with Rumford that night, as the man on the steps was Crabtree.”
“Hmm, yes, that does rather spoil that particular theory, doesn’t it?”
“Jardyne stays on my list, though. Young men in love have done stupider deeds to win a fair maiden’s heart.”
Fay Carradine came in with a message that Mrs. Tebbit would be delighted to see the Chief Inspector.
“Thank you. You’re off home, Daisy?”
“Heavens no,” said Daisy with an air of triumph. “Mrs. Tebbit is the lady of the house. I can’t possibly leave without making my bow to her.”
“Oh yes, Mrs. Fletcher, Aunt Alice wants to see you, too.”
So Daisy followed Fay upstairs, and Alec, silently fuming, followed Daisy.