Chapter Sixteen #2
The paperwork, a mixture of reports from recent investigations and administrative bumf, went faster than Alec had expected. Finishing well before lunchtime, he decided to escape, before the next flood arrived, and have lunch out.
“I’ll ring up between interviews to find out if Miss Devenish has arrived yet,” he told Piper. “She has first priority. Make sure whoever makes the calls assures her I’ll be there very shortly and asks her to wait.”
He had a frustrating afternoon. Many of those he wanted to see were not at home.
Of those who were, none admitted to a close acquaintance with Teddy Devenish, far less friendship.
Alec received a general impression that no one had much liked him or even approved of him, though it seemed he had saved his nastier tricks for those who couldn’t fight back.
He hadn’t wanted to be banned from the society of his peers.
Two or three people—all ladies—made glancing references to a Russian scandal, but when pressed they were vague about details. It was just gossip, a rumour. Not one of them admitted to recalling who had told her.
He finished a particularly trying interview shortly before four o’clock.
The butler of the house kindly allowed him to use the telephone to ring up the Yard, and the duty sergeant at last told him Miss Devenish had arrived at her brother’s flat.
Checking the address, he found that the ever efficient Piper’s suggested route had kept him within easy reach.
Leaving his car, he walked there in a few minutes.
The modern block of service flats was six storeys high and Devenish lived on the top floor.
He would, Alec thought, then entered the marble-floored lobby and spotted a lift.
His relief was tempered by dismay: Not so long ago, he would have taken all those stairs in his stride.
Was it an argument for accepting the superintendent position, if offered, or ought he to try to get more exercise?
The approach of a uniformed porter put an end to the internal debate not a moment too soon. His inspection of Alec’s credentials was blasé.
“We’ve ’ad a lot of you gentlemen from Scotland Yard the last couple of days. And the press, my word! But there’s a lady just took up residence, the deceased gentleman’s sister, so I better ring up.” He retreated to his cubby, where he could be seen through the glass taking up his telephone.
Half a minute later, he reemerged, thumbs up. “Miss’ll be happy to see you, sir.”
“Happy” to see him? Making for the lift, one of the new automatic kind, Alec wondered whether the word came from Angela Devenish or was a gloss added by the porter.
At the top, a narrow but carpeted passage gave access to four flats, two each way. Devenish’s was the second to the right. Alec rang the bell.
Daisy opened the door.
“Darling, that was quick. We didn’t expect you for at least twenty minutes.”
“What the deuce are you doing here, Daisy?”
“Angela is a friend of mine, the only one she has in town, really. She rang me the moment she arrived, before she even took off her … Down, Mr. Fisher!”
The scruffy dog thus admonished stopped jumping at Alec’s knees but continued to bark.
“Mr. Fisher?”
“Doesn’t he look sort of like a frog? His face, I mean. Anyway, Angela thinks so. She’s making tea—the kettle just boiled. You’re not going to try to make me leave, are you? Because she wants me to stay and I want my tea. Come in here.”
Alec wasn’t going to try to make her leave because he had strong doubts as to his success.
He followed her into a spacious sitting room, Mr. Fisher sniffing suspiciously—but silently at last—at his trouser turn ups.
A large, south-facing window provided plenty of light, even on this grey day.
It revealed an expansive view over the lower buildings of Knightsbridge and Chelsea and even, between taller buildings, a glimpse of the river and Battersea beyond.
Teddy had obviously done well from his great-aunt’s will.
The furnishings were modern, with a good deal of chrome.
Alec was surprised, until he remembered this was not Angela’s environment but her brother’s, though presumably the lease would belong to her once the will was proved.
Avant-garde paintings on the walls, several small bronze sculptures, and a couple of African-looking wood carvings testified to his artistic tastes.
Angela came in carrying a tray. A lean woman in her late thirties, she bore its laden weight with ease.
Her hair was tousled, her face weatherbeaten; she wore country tweeds and heavy walking shoes.
Mr. Fisher rushed to her with delighted yips and danced round her.
“Down, Mr. Fisher, or you may get a teapot on your head. Down! Hello, Mr. Fletcher. Or should I call you Chief Inspector?” She set down the tray and shook hands, her clasp firm and dry.
“Mister will do very well, Miss Devenish.”
“Do sit down. These awful chairs are slightly more comfortable than they look. How can I help you?” she asked bluntly.
“Tell me about your brother.”
Angela took a deep breath and blurted out, “I didn’t like him. I loved him, of course. Sort of. One has to love family, doesn’t one? Or at least stand by them. But I couldn’t be fond of him after he kicked Mrs. Tiggywinkle.”
“A hedgehog? No, one of your dogs, I take it.”
“She was in whelp. All the pups were born dead and she was in pain for months.”
“Oh no!” Daisy breathed in sympathy. Alec gave her a look, but Angela didn’t seem to have heard her.
“I haven’t seen Teddy since.”
“I’m sorry. How long ago was that, Miss Devenish?”
“A year ago,” she said vaguely. “Two years? I remember it was November, because we had the first snow just a few days later.”
“You’re sure it wasn’t last November?”
“It might— No, it couldn’t have been because then Mrs. T would have only just recovered.
She’s been all right for ages. In fact, I thought she was going to have another litter, but she didn’t, thank goodness.
There are too many unwanted dogs already.
We try to keep the bitches confined when they’re on heat.
Some of them are real Houdinis, though. We had one—”
“‘We’?” Alec interrupted. “You’re not running it alone?”
“Gosh no, I couldn’t manage it on my own. I couldn’t have left them to come to London, could I! I’ve got a hired man, whose wife keeps house for me, and people in the village help out when they can. This week’s the Easter hols so the kids from the manor come every day. The dogs adore them.”
“They were there every day this week? You’re sure?”
Angela seemed surprised at his insistence. “Absolutely. They’d come before breakfast if their parents would let them, and they often bring a picnic lunch. The dogs usually get quite a bit of it,” she admitted gruffly.
“How old are they?”
“Nine and eleven. Or is it twelve? Sorry, I’m not awfully good at that sort of thing.” Mr. Fisher laid a consoling head in her lap and she fondled his ears. “Does it matter?”
“Close enough.” Alec glanced at Daisy. She was obviously pleased that Angela had provided herself with an alibi that could easily be checked, even if Angela herself was oblivious. Angela was equally oblivious of the tea tray, so Daisy took it upon herself to pour and hand round cups.
Alec took down the children’s parents’ names and address, and the hired man’s for good measure. “Did your brother ever talk about his friends and acquaintances?” he asked next.
“That was pretty much his only interest,” she said dryly. “I let it flow past my ears. Any names I heard, I’ve forgotten long since.”
“Pity.”
“I can give you a general idea of what he said about them, though, if that’s any use to you. I couldn’t help hearing some of it.”
“I never know what will be useful. Please go ahead.”
Angela hesitated. “I suppose I’d better go back to when we were growing up. You see, Teddy was always the favourite, naturally, because he was the only boy. He was always indulged.”
“Spoiled rotten,” Daisy murmured. Alec shot her a repressive frown. He was amazed she hadn’t opened her mouth more often.
“As a result,” Angela went on with a faraway expression, “if he was ever thwarted, he was convinced he was being picked on and, if he could, he retaliated. He usually got away with it.” She stopped, dismayed at where her thoughts were leading.
Alec decided to press her. “With no repercussions, he came to enjoy the mean tricks he played on people? He started to indulge his taste even without provocation, real or imagined?”
“Ye-es. Yes, I’m afraid so. He was such a nice little boy! Last time I saw him, he seemed to positively delight in scoring off people, even artists and writers and people like that whose work he admired.”
Daisy’s inarticulate mutter sounded like agreement. Alec shot her another glare, but she wasn’t looking, being busy stroking Mr. Fisher’s head. Not that it would have deterred her if she had seen it.
Again, Angela didn’t appear to have heard her.
“It was horrible to listen to his gloating. He revelled in telling me how clever he’d been, so that they could never be sure whatever he’d done wasn’t an accident.
He couldn’t fool me that he kicked Mrs. Tiggywinkle by accident!
He told me he tripped over her, but I saw him do it, absolutely deliberately.
I’ll never forgive him. I’m sorry he’s dead, but all the same …
Was he killed by someone he’d provoked?”
“Probably, given the circumstances.”
“The circumstances?” She sounded puzzled. “Was there something odd about it?”
“You haven’t read the papers.”
“Lord no, I never read them. What … What happened?”
Apparently Daisy had funked the explanation, and Alec couldn’t blame her. If there was a delicate way to tell a woman her brother had been murdered in a ladies’ room while dressed as a nursery nurse, he couldn’t think of it. He was glad someone else had had to break the news to Teddy’s parents.
He had to be blunt. Though he tried to be gentle, his words made Angela flinch.
After a moment, she said, “He always did like dressing up, amateur theatricals, that sort of thing. And the ladies’ room—just the sort of prank he would get involved in just for kicks. Or a dare, perhaps. He never could resist a dare.”
Judging by Mr. Fisher, she was more upset than was obvious. The dog returned to her, laid his head in her lap, and licked her hand lavishly.
Alec sipped his tea, recognising the distinctive flavour of lapsang souchong. Teddy’s taste, not Angela’s, of course. It was lukewarm, so he hurriedly swigged down the rest. “Did your brother ever want to go on the stage professionally, Miss Devenish?”
“Not that I recall, but I didn’t pay much heed.
My father would have cut him off without a shilling.
He considers all actors effeminate, and besides, it would have been ‘betraying his class.’ As I do, in his eyes.
He’d approve if I kept any number of hounds and dashed about the countryside killing innocent animals, but rescuing hurt and abandoned dogs is beyond the pale.
Not that I care,” she finished defiantly.
“No, why should you? How long do you expect to stay in town?”
“As short a time as possible. London’s a horrible place. I’ll have to stay a few days, though. Teddy’s solicitor wrote that I’m co-executor of his will. I’ve no idea what that entails but with any luck Mr. Cranford will do it all.”
“Do you know how he’s left his assets?”
“Not a clue. Father will be livid if Aunt Eva’s money doesn’t revert to the Devenish estate, even though most of it came from her husband. I daresay it will. What else would Teddy do with it?”
Alec was as certain as he could be that she was not aware of being her brother’s sole legatee. If Teddy had revealed the fact, he would have been badgered to change his will. It would come as a nasty shock to Sir James, which was undoubtedly just what the baronet’s undutiful son had planned.