Chapter Twenty-Three
TWENTY-THREE
Daisy and Belinda spent the next morning shopping for school clothes, then went to Maison Lyons for lunch, a favourite farewell treat before the start of the summer term.
Their patisserie was a big draw for the back-to-school crowd.
Daisy let Bel have both an éclair and a napoleon, and they bought a cream bun to take home for the twins to share.
“Because Nanny wouldn’t let them eat cream buns, Mummy, but Bertha will.”
“I hope it won’t upset their tummies.”
“It wasn’t ’cause of that, she just didn’t want the mess. Is Mrs. Gilpin coming back?”
“I’m not sure yet. It depends.”
“Bertha’s a perfectly good nurse and much nicer.”
“Don’t say nasty things about people who aren’t present to defend themselves.”
“Well, I would never say it to her face, Mummy.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Better not to say it at all.”
“Till I’m grown-up.”
Daisy laughed. “Then you can judge the situation for yourself and whether there is any good purpose for voicing your opinion. Now, check your list one more time to make sure we’ve bought everything. I don’t want to have to rush back to Oxford Street for last-minute stuff.”
When they reached home, Elsie waylaid Daisy in the hall.
“There’s a person to see you, madam.” Elsie disapproved, and she was obviously going to make Daisy go through a game of twenty-questions.
“A person? Male or female?”
“Female, madam.”
“Old or young?”
“Not old, madam, but not exactly young. She said you’d know her. Name of Phipps, she said.”
“Phipps? I don’t know any—Oh, wait! Faye Fanshawe.”
“Phipps is the name, madam.”
“Fanshawe is her stage name.”
“She looks as if she might be a theatrical person, madam.”
“An actress? Oh, Mummy, may I meet her?”
“Nightclub performer, darling, though quite a respectable one. I think not. Not just now, at any rate. I wonder what she wants. How long has she been waiting, Elsie?”
“Nearly two hours, madam. I put her in the small sitting room.”
“Thank you.”
Fay Fanshawe-Phipps jumped up as Daisy entered the room.
“Oh, Mrs. Fletcher, I ’ope I done right to come.
Only I telephoned Scotland Yard, like Mr. Fletcher said to do, and they wouldn’t let me talk to ’im.
And Pa said it’d be just the same if I went there, they wouldn’t let me see ’im, and ’e said I wasn’t to, it was just askin’ for trouble.
But I promised ’im and he was decent to me, and ’e said you was ’is wife, so I thought… ” She faltered to a stop.
“That’s quite all right, Miss Fanshawe. You can tell me anything he needs to know and I’ll pass it on, or you can write it down and I’ll see he gets it today.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t write it. It would take ever so long and I’d be bound to spell everythin’ wrong.”
“Tell me, then. It’s about Edward Devenish, I presume?”
“Yeah. See, Mr. Fletcher wanted to know did I ever meet any of ’is friends.
I didn’t remember—it was a few months ago—it was ’im that interduced me to Ray Richmond.
That wasn’t ’is real name, mind. He had a stage name, same as me, only ’is was because ’e didn’t want ’is posh pals to find out ’e was workin’ wiv me. ”
“Posh pals? You said something before, at the Kit-Cat, about your partner being too high and mighty for the job.”
“S’right. I can’t hardly ever find one o’ me own sort to work wiv.
Not-so-good ain’t good enough for the Kit-Cat.
Them that’s really up to it’ve got good jobs in the circus or the music hall, and they like that life, the comradry like they call it.
No offence, but they’re not comf’table wiv toffs.
Now me, being as how us buskers work the theatre queues, we got to get on wiv all sorts.
Busking’s not a steady income, though, and I gotta think of Mum and Pa. ”
“Of course.” Daisy couldn’t see the relevance to Teddy, but she was interested in this glimpse into a way of life.
“Me first partner, Billy, was a bloke I known since I was a kid. ’Is family’s circus, but ’e married a London gal that hated touring, so ’e gave it a try.
We worked out the routine ourselves and proposed it to the management.
Billy didn’t like it. He was bored to death sitting about back stage and he missed the animals.
So I put an advert in the paper. You coulda knocked me down with a feather when this young gentleman answered it! ”
“I bet. Did he explain why?”
“The geegees, ’e said.”
“His horse always came in last?”
“Ain’t that the way of it? He was down to ’is uppers.”
“You must have known he wasn’t likely to stay long.”
“Didn’t ’ave much choice, did I. He was the only one that answered.
He wasn’t bad, took a while to learn the routine.
’Course, you ’ave to change it to suit what they’re best at, and so the patrons don’t get bored.
But ’e’d been a gymnast at school and ’e played squash so ’e was pretty nippy.
He stuck wiv it for a couple of months, till ’is quarterly allowance fell due.
’E wasn’t a bad bloke, stayed till I’d found someone to take ’is place.
The next was a friend, a busker that fell ill and couldn’t work outside for a while.
He stayed till ’e was well enough. Couldn’t stand working indoors, ’im. ”
“I admire your persistence.”
“Oh, I went through another two or three before ’im I was telling you about.”
“The one who knew Teddy Devenish.”
“Yeah. I told Teddy about having trouble keeping a partner and the sort of fella I needed. Next time ’e come round, ’e brought this bloke, friend of ’is that des’prately needed a job.”
“Gymnast and squash player?”
“You got it. He lasted longer than most, but he wasn’t ’appy, ’specially when Teddy wrote that bit in the paper I told you about. That was mean, that was.”
“But it sounds as if it was aimed at the friend, not at you.” Quite a stretch as a motive for murder, Daisy thought. “What was his name?”
“His stage name was Ray Richmond, like I said. He was ever so particular about never using ’is real name, and ’e shaved off his moustache and dyed ’is eyebrows so no one wouldn’t reckernise ’im. Trouble is, seeing ’ow I never used ’is real name, I can’t remember it, not for sure.”
“What do you remember? It may help.”
“His christian name was kind of funny and ’e had a hyphen in ’is surname. All I’m sure of is the last bit: Clark.”
“Oh dear, that’s not much, is it. Quite a common name, too. I’ll pass it on to my husband, of course. You never know what the police can do with a tiny scrap of information.”
“Tell ’im I’ll try to remember the rest. Only it’s been a while and I dunno…”
“He’ll be grateful for your taking the trouble to come. I know he’d want me to reimburse your fare.” Daisy had her purse on her, having just come in. She offered Miss Fanshawe a pound, but she wouldn’t accept more than the actual fare to Hampstead and back.
She ushered the acrobat out and went to the office to ring the Yard.
For a wonder, Alec was in and the switchboard put her through after only a minute or two.
“What is it, Daisy?” he asked impatiently.
“Darling, you ought to know by now that I never ring you at work for nothing.” She continued hurriedly before he could tell her to get on with it. “Fay Fanshawe—I’ve forgotten what her real name is—she came here. You told her to ring you up if she thought of anything—”
“I did.”
“She tried and they wouldn’t put her through.”
“Indeed! I’ll deal with that. Why the deuce did she go to you instead of coming here?”
Daisy explained about the father’s prohibition. “You’d told her I was your wife, and I’d left her my card. She decided it was the best thing to do.”
“For all the trouble she took, I hope she had something worthwhile to tell.”
“That’s for you to decide. You asked about Teddy’s friends, I assume. She recalled that one of her partners in her act had been recommended by Teddy.”
“An acrobat?”
“No, a squash player who had been a gymnast at school. He went by the stage name of Ray Richmond, but his own name was so posh as to have passed through her mind like water through a sieve. All she remembers is the bit after the hyphen: Clark.”
“Clark!”
“It means something to you?”
“Does it ever! Did she mention with or without an E?”
“No, and I didn’t think to ask. Sorry.”
“Never mind. How many hyphen-Clarks can there be in London?
“So Mr. hyphen-Clark is a person of interest?”
“No more so than a dozen or more others. That’s our trouble. Hold on half a tick.” The distant sound of voices cut off as he put his hand over the receiver, then he said, “I must go, love. Thanks for hyphen-Clark. ’Bye.”
Daisy hung up and turned to the second post, which Elsie had put on her desk. Among the bills, circulars, and letters from friends and relatives was a brief note from Mrs. Gilpin’s sister.
“Dear Ivy” had arrived safe but “exosted,” and was tucked up in bed. That was one worry off Daisy’s mind.
She was dealing with the rest of the post when the telephone at her elbow rang.
“Sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Fletcher.” It was Ernie Piper’s cheerful voice.
“Do you happen to know where we can find Miss Angela Devenish? She’s not answering the telephone at the flat and the bobby we sent round can’t get an answer at the door.
Before we try the lawyer, DI Mackinnon wondered if she might be with you. ”
“No, but I know where she is. She was taking the train home today. She was anxious about her dogs. If she didn’t tell you, I’m sure it was an oversight, not with evil intent.”
“Ever so keen on them dogs, isn’t she?”
“She is, but I don’t believe for a moment that she did Teddy in because he once hurt one of them.”
“That’s as may be, Mrs. Fletcher. He left her a lot of money, and money’s a powerful motive.”
“Not for Angela.” But how thrilled she had been when their aunt left her enough to start her dog refuge.
How many dogs could be saved by adding Teddy’s enormous share in that inheritance?
Did they really suspect her? “Anyway, she would never run away and abandon the dogs. You’ll always be able to get hold of her there. ”
No sooner had she hung up than the bell rang again. Mackinnon this time, perhaps? She was tempted to let Elsie answer but picked up the receiver.
“Daisy? Sakari here. Do you remember Judith Winter?”
“The sculptor? Yes, why?”
“She is here. May I bring her to talk to you?”
Daisy wanted to ask why, but she assumed Judith was near enough to hear. Otherwise Sakari would have told her. That in turn suggested that she wasn’t likely to enjoy the conversation.
It was much easier to leave someone else’s house than to evict someone from one’s own house.
All this flashed through Daisy’s mind and she said, “I’ll pop over to your house, darling. Is Deva free? I’m sure Bel would like to see her. She’s feeling a bit lost without her cousins.”
“Very well.” Sakari sounded amused, as if she had overheard the mental calculations. She lowered her voice. “The sooner the better.”
“Oh dear! I’m on my way.”
Belinda was busy showing off to Mrs. Dobson and Elsie the new afternoon frock they had picked up from the dressmaker. She was delighted to be able to show it off to Deva as well.
They drove down the hill and were ushered into Sakari’s exotically furnished drawing room just after the arrival of the tea tray.
Daisy was still full from their lunch extravaganza, but she welcomed the sight because the girls’ presence at tea must surely postpone the incipient explosion she read in Miss Winter’s face.
By the time Deva took Belinda off to her room, Daisy had recalled the gist, if not the precise words, of her previous meeting with the sculptor.
“I’ve just found out you’re married to Detective Chief Inspector Fletcher,” Miss Winter accused her, “who’s in charge of investigating Teddy Devenish’s murder. Why didn’t you warn me?”
“I don’t make a habit of proclaiming to new acquaintances the profession of my husband. In fact I don’t believe I have ever done so. It would be a rather odd proceeding, don’t you agree?”
“Well, yes, but in the circumstances—”
“Nor was I the first to mention Teddy. You recognised my name as that of a journalist and asked if my interest in him was due to my intention of writing about his murder. You merely guessed that I was interested after watching me at the Café Royal, not because of anything I said.”
“This is true,” said Sakari in a conciliatory tone.
“The guess was correct, however. I, too, am interested in the murder of Teddy Devenish, though my husband is not a police officer and I do not wish to become a reporter. You see, Judith, both Daisy and I were at the Crystal Palace when it occurred. It is natural to be interested, I think.”
“My children’s nurse was also there. I expect you’ve read in the newspapers that the victim was disguised as a nanny?”
“And the murderer may have been, too. So your nanny is suspected?”
“It’s more complicated than that, but I do want to find out what happened for her sake. Also, Teddy was related to two friends of mine, another reason to take an interest.”
“You weren’t working for the chief inspector?”
“No. He was pretty annoyed with me.” Daisy hesitated. The sculptor had calmed down, but what she had to say might reignite her ire. Still, she couldn’t avoid saying it. “I did pass on to Alec what you told us about Teddy’s nasty tricks.”
“I knew you must have set the police on to my friends!”
“Hold on! I didn’t give him any names. You didn’t mention any.”
“Not one,” Sakari confirmed.
“If you were married to a policeman, Miss Winter, you’d understand that when it’s a case of murder it’s not a good idea to withhold information. It’s a cliché that someone who gets away with one murder is very likely to kill again, but after all, clichés become clichés because they’re mostly true.”
Miss Winter looked as if she were trying to come up with a counterargument and failing. “I daresay, but when it’s your friends…”
“The sun is nearly over the yardarm,” said Sakari with the pleasure she always took in using a colloquial expression. She rang the bell. “Time for a drop of sherry.”