Eleven

A day or two later Colonel Melchett and Superintendent Harper looked ateach other across the former’s big desk. Harper had come over to MuchBenham for a consultation.

Melchett said gloomily:

“Well, we know where we are—or rather where we aren’t!”

“Where we aren’t expresses it better, sir.”

“We’ve got two deaths to take into account,” said Melchett. “Twomurders. Ruby Keene and the child Pamela Reeves. Not much to identifyher by, poor kid, but enough. That shoe that escaped burning has beenidentified positively as hers by her father, and there’s this button from herGirl Guide uniform. A fiendish business, Superintendent.”

Superintendent Harper said very quietly:

“I’ll say you’re right, sir.”

“I’m glad it’s quite certain she was dead before the car was set on fire.

The way she was lying, thrown across the seat, shows that. Probablyknocked on the head, poor kid.”

“Or strangled, perhaps,” said Harper.

Melchett looked at him sharply.

“You think so?”

“Well, sir, there are murderers like that.”

“I know. I’ve seen the parents—the poor girl’s mother’s beside herself.

Damned painful, the whole thing. The point for us to settle is—are the twomurders connected?”

“I’d say definitely yes.”

“So would I.”

The Superintendent ticked off the points on his fingers.

“Pamela Reeves attended rally of Girl Guides on Danebury Downs.

Stated by companions to be normal and cheerful. Did not return withthree companions by the bus to Medchester. Said to them that she was go-ing into Danemouth to Woolworth’s and would take the bus home fromthere. The main road into Danemouth from the downs does a big roundinland. Pamela Reeves took a shortcut over two fields and a footpath andlane which would bring her into Danemouth near the Majestic Hotel. Thelane, in fact, actually passes the hotel on the west side. It’s possible, there-fore, that she overheard or saw something—something concerning RubyKeene—which would have proved dangerous to the murderer—say, forinstance, that she heard him arranging to meet Ruby Keene at eleven thatevening. He realizes that this schoolgirl has overheard, and he has to si-lence her.”

Colonel Melchett said:

“That’s presuming, Harper, that the Ruby Keene crime was premedit-ated—not spontaneous.”

Superintendent Harper agreed.

“I believe it was, sir. It looks as though it would be the other way—sud-den violence, a fit of passion or jealousy—but I’m beginning to think thatthat’s not so. I don’t see otherwise how you can account for the death ofthe Reeves child. If she was a witness of the actual crime, it would be lateat night, round about eleven p.m., and what would she be doing roundabout the Majestic at that time? Why, at nine o’clock her parents were get-ting anxious because she hadn’t returned.”

“The alternative is that she went to meet someone in Danemouth un-known to her family and friends, and that her death is quite unconnectedwith the other death.”

“Yes, sir, and I don’t believe that’s so. Look how even the old lady, oldMiss Marple, tumbled to it at once that there was a connection. She askedat once if the body in the burnt car was the body of the missing Girl Guide.

Very smart old lady, that. These old ladies are sometimes. Shrewd, youknow. Put their fingers on the vital spot.”

“Miss Marple has done that more than once,” said Colonel Melchettdryly.

“And besides, sir, there’s the car. That seems to me to link up her deathdefinitely with the Majestic Hotel. It was Mr. George Bartlett’s car.”

Again the eyes of the two men met. Melchett said:

“George Bartlett? Could be! What do you think?”

Again Harper methodically recited various points.

“Ruby Keene was last seen with George Bartlett. He says she went to herroom (borne out by the dress she was wearing being found there), but didshe go to her room and change in order to go out with him? Had they madea date to go out together earlier—discussed it, say, before dinner, and didPamela Reeves happen to overhear?”

Melchett said: “He didn’t report the loss of his car until the followingmorning, and he was extremely vague about it then, pretended he couldn’tremember exactly when he had last noticed it.”

“That might be cleverness, sir. As I see it, he’s either a very clever gentle-man pretending to be a silly ass, or else—well, he is a silly ass.”

“What we want,” said Melchett, “is motive. As it stands, he had nomotive whatever for killing Ruby Keene.”

“Yes—that’s where we’re stuck every time. Motive. All the reports fromthe Palais de Danse at Brixwell are negative, I understand?”

“Absolutely! Ruby Keene had no special boy friend. Slack’s been into thematter thoroughly—give Slack his due, he is thorough.”

“That’s right, sir. Thorough’s the word.”

“If there was anything to ferret out, he’d have ferreted it out. But there’snothing there. He got a list of her most frequent dancing partners—all vet-ted and found correct. Harmless fellows, and all able to produce alibis forthat night.”

“Ah,” said Superintendent Harper. “Alibis. That’s what we’re upagainst.”

Melchett looked at him sharply. “Think so? I’ve left that side of the in-vestigation to you.”

“Yes, sir. It’s been gone into—very thoroughly. We applied to London forhelp over it.”

“Well?”

“Mr. Conway Jefferson may think that Mr. Gaskell and young Mrs. Jef-ferson are comfortably off, but that is not the case. They’re both extremelyhard up.”

“Is that true?”

“Quite true, sir. It’s as Mr. Conway Jefferson said, he made over consid-erable sums of money to his son and daughter when they married. Thatwas over ten years ago, though. Mr. Jefferson fancied himself as knowinggood investments. He didn’t invest in anything absolutely wild cat, but hewas unlucky and showed poor judgment more than once. His holdingshave gone steadily down. I should say the widow found it difficult to makeboth ends meet and send her son to a good school.”

“But she hasn’t applied to her father-in-law for help?”

“No, sir. As far as I can make out she lives with him, and consequentlyhas no household expenses.”

“And his health is such that he wasn’t expected to live long?”

“That’s right, sir. Now for Mr. Mark Gaskell. He’s a gambler, pure andsimple. Got through his wife’s money very soon. Has got himself tangledup rather critically just at present. He needs money badly—and a gooddeal of it.”

“Can’t say I liked the looks of him much,” said Colonel Melchett. “Wild-looking sort of fellow—what? And he’s got a motive all right. Twenty-fivethousand pounds it meant to him getting that girl out of the way. Yes, it’s amotive all right.”

“They both had a motive.”

“I’m not considering Mrs. Jefferson.”

“No, sir, I know you’re not. And, anyway, the alibi holds for both ofthem. They couldn’t have done it. Just that.”

“You’ve got a detailed statement of their movements that evening?”

“Yes, I have. Take Mr. Gaskell first. He dined with his father-in-law andMrs. Jefferson, had coffee with them afterwards when Ruby Keene joinedthem. Then he said he had to write letters and left them. Actually he tookhis car and went for a spin down to the front. He told me quite frankly hecouldn’t stick playing bridge for a whole evening. The old boy’s mad on it.

So he made letters an excuse. Ruby Keene remained with the others. MarkGaskell returned when she was dancing with Raymond. After the danceRuby came and had a drink with them, then she went off with young Bart-lett, and Gaskell and the others cut for partners and started their bridge.

That was at twenty minutes to eleven—and he didn’t leave the table untilafter midnight. That’s quite certain, sir. Everyone says so. The family, thewaiters, everyone. Therefore he couldn’t have done it. And Mrs. Jefferson’salibi is the same. She, too, didn’t leave the table. They’re out, both of them—out.”

Colonel Melchett leaned back, tapping the table with a paper cutter.

Superintendent Harper said:

“That is, assuming the girl was killed before midnight.”

“Haydock said she was. He’s a very sound fellow in police work. If hesays a thing, it’s so.”

“There might be reasons—health, physical idiosyncrasy, or something.”

“I’ll put it to him.” Melchett glanced at his watch, picked up the tele-phone receiver and asked for a number. He said: “Haydock ought to be athome at this time. Now, assuming that she was killed after midnight?”

Harper said:

“Then there might be a chance. There was some coming and going after-wards. Let’s assume that Gaskell had asked the girl to meet him outsidesomewhere—say at twenty past twelve. He slips away for a minute or two,strangles her, comes back and disposes of the body later—in the earlyhours of the morning.”

Melchett said:

“Takes her by car thirty-odd miles to put her in Bantry’s library? Dash itall, it’s not a likely story.”

“No, it isn’t,” the Superintendent admitted at once.

The telephone rang. Melchett picked up the receiver.

“Hallo, Haydock, is that you? Ruby Keene. Would it be possible for herto have been killed after midnight?”

“I told you she was killed between ten and midnight.”

“Yes, I know, but one could stretch it a bit—what?”

“No, you couldn’t stretch it. When I say she was killed before midnight Imean before midnight, and don’t try to tamper with the medical evid-ence.”

“Yes, but couldn’t there be some physiological what-not? You know whatI mean.”

“I know that you don’t know what you’re talking about. The girl wasperfectly healthy and not abnormal in any way—and I’m not going to sayshe was just to help you fit a rope round the neck of some wretched fellowwhom you police wallahs have got your knife into. Now don’t protest. Iknow your ways. And, by the way, the girl wasn’t strangled willingly—thatis to say, she was drugged first. Powerful narcotic. She died of strangula-tion but she was drugged first.” Haydock rang off.

Melchett said gloomily: “Well, that’s that.”

Harper said:

“Thought I’d found another likely starter—but it petered out.”

“What’s that? Who?”

“Strictly speaking, he’s your pigeon, sir. Name of Basil Blake. Lives nearGossington Hall.”

“Impudent young jackanapes!” The Colonel’s brow darkened as he re-membered Basil Blake’s outrageous rudeness. “How’s he mixed up in it?”

“Seems he knew Ruby Keene. Dined over at the Majestic quite often—danced with the girl. Do you remember what Josie said to Raymond whenRuby was discovered to be missing? ‘She’s not with that film fellow, isshe?’ I’ve found out it was Blake, she meant. He’s employed with the Lem-ville Studios, you know. Josie has nothing to go upon except a belief thatRuby was rather keen on him.”

“Very promising, Harper, very promising.”

“Not so good as it sounds, sir. Basil Blake was at a party at the studiosthat night. You know the sort of thing. Starts at eight with cocktails andgoes on and on until the air’s too thick to see through and everyone passesout. According to Inspector Slack, who’s questioned him, he left the showround about midnight. At midnight Ruby Keene was dead.”

“Anyone bear out his statement?”

“Most of them, I gather, sir, were rather—er—far gone. The—er—youngwoman now at the bungalow—Miss Dinah Lee—says his statement is cor-rect.”

“Doesn’t mean a thing!”

“No, sir, probably not. Statements taken from other members of theparty bear Mr. Blake’s statement out on the whole, though ideas as to timeare somewhat vague.”

“Where are these studios?”

“Lemville, sir, thirty miles southwest of London.”

“H’m—about the same distance from here?”

“Yes, sir.”

Colonel Melchett rubbed his nose. He said in a rather dissatisfied tone:

“Well, it looks as though we could wash him out.”

“I think so, sir. There is no evidence that he was seriously attracted byRuby Keene. In fact”—Superintendent Harper coughed primly—“he seemsfully occupied with his own young lady.”

Melchett said:

“Well, we are left with ‘X,’ an unknown murderer—so unknown Slackcan’t find a trace of him! Or Jefferson’s son- in- law, who might havewanted to kill the girl—but didn’t have a chance to do so. Daughter-in-lawditto. Or George Bartlett, who has no alibi—but unfortunately no motiveeither. Or with young Blake, who has an alibi and no motive. And that’sthe lot! No, stop, I suppose we ought to consider the dancing fellow—Ray-mond Starr. After all, he saw a lot of the girl.”

Harper said slowly:

“Can’t believe he took much interest in her—or else he’s a thunderinggood actor. And, for all practical purposes, he’s got an alibi too. He wasmore or less in view from twenty minutes to eleven until midnight, dan-cing with various partners. I don’t see that we can make a case againsthim.”

“In fact,” said Colonel Melchett, “we can’t make a case against anybody.”

“George Bartlett’s our best hope. If we could only hit on a motive.”

“You’ve had him looked up?”

“Yes, sir. Only child. Coddled by his mother. Came into a good deal ofmoney on her death a year ago. Getting through it fast. Weak rather thanvicious.”

“May be mental,” said Melchett hopefully.

Superintendent Harper nodded. He said:

“Has it struck you, sir—that that may be the explanation of the wholecase?”

“Criminal lunatic, you mean?”

“Yes, sir. One of those fellows who go about strangling young girls. Doc-tors have a long name for it.”

“That would solve all our difficulties,” said Melchett.

“There’s only one thing I don’t like about it,” said SuperintendentHarper.

“What?”

“It’s too easy.”

“H’m—yes—perhaps. So, as I said at the beginning where are we?”

“Nowhere, sir,” said Superintendent Harper.