Five

MISS BLACKLOCK AND MISS BUNNER

Little Paddocks was very much as Detective-Inspector Craddock had ima-gined it to be. He noted ducks and chickens and what had been until latelyan attractive herbaceous border and in which a few late Michaelmas dais-ies showed a last dying splash of purple beauty. The lawn and the pathsshowed signs of neglect.

Summing up, Detective- Inspector Craddock thought: “Probably notmuch money to spend on gardeners-fond of flowers and a good eye forplanning and massing a border. House needs painting. Most houses do,nowadays. Pleasant little property.”

As Craddock’s car stopped before the front door, Sergeant Fletcher cameround the side of the house. Sergeant Fletcher looked like a guardsman,with an erect military bearing, and was able to impart several differentmeanings to the one monosyllable: “Sir.”

“So there you are, Fletcher.”

“Sir,” said Sergeant Fletcher.

“Anything to report?”

“We’ve finished going over the house, sir. Scherz doesn’t seem to haveleft any fingerprints anywhere. He wore gloves, of course. No signs of anyof the doors or windows being forced to effect an entrance. He seems tohave come out from Medenham on the bus, arriving here at six o’clock.

Side door of the house was locked at 5:30, I understand. Looks as thoughhe must have walked in through the front door. Miss Blacklock states thatthat door isn’t usually locked until the house is shut up for the night. Themaid, on the other hand, states that the front door was locked all the after-noon-but she’d say anything. Very temperamental you’ll find her. MittelEuropa refugee of some kind.”

“Difficult, is she?”

“Sir!” said Sergeant Fletcher, with intense feeling.

Craddock smiled.

Fletcher resumed his report.

“Lighting system is quite in order everywhere. We haven’t spotted yethow he operated the lights. It was just the one circuit went. Drawing roomand hall. Of course, nowadays the wall brackets and lamps wouldn’t all beon one fuse-but this is an old-fashioned installation and wiring. Don’t seehow he could have tampered with the fusebox because it’s out by thescullery and he’d have had to go through the kitchen, so the maid wouldhave seen him.”

“Unless she was in it with him?”

“That’s very possible. Both foreigners-and I wouldn’t trust her a yard-not a yard.”

Craddock noticed two enormous frightened black eyes peering out of awindow by the front door. The face, flattened against the pane, was hardlyvisible.

“That her there?”

“That’s right, sir.”

The face disappeared.

Craddock rang the front doorbell.

After a long wait the door was opened by a good-looking young womanwith chestnut hair and a bored expression.

“Detective-Inspector Craddock,” said Craddock.

The young woman gave him a cool stare out of very attractive hazeleyes and said:

“Come in. Miss Blacklock is expecting you.”

The hall, Craddock noted, was long and narrow and seemed almost in-credibly full of doors.

The young woman threw open a door on the left, and said: “InspectorCraddock, Aunt Letty. Mitzi wouldn’t go to the door. She’s shut herself upin the kitchen and she’s making the most marvellous moaning noises. Ishouldn’t think we’ll get any lunch.”

She added in an explanatory manner to Craddock: “She doesn’t like thepolice,” and withdrew, shutting the door behind her.

Craddock advanced to meet the owner of Little Paddocks.

He saw a tall active-looking woman of about sixty. Her grey hair had aslight natural wave and made a distinguished setting for an intelligent,resolute face. She had keen grey eyes and a square determined chin.

There was a surgical dressing on her left ear. She wore no makeup andwas plainly dressed in a well-cut tweed coat and skirt and pullover. Roundthe neck of the latter she wore, rather unexpectedly, a set of old-fashionedcameos-a Victorian touch which seemed to hint at a sentimental streaknot otherwise apparent.

Close beside her, with an eager round face and untidy hair escapingfrom a hair net, was a woman of about the same age whom Craddock hadno difficulty in recognizing as the “Dora Bunner - companion” of Con-stable Legg’s notes-to which the latter had added an off-the-record com-mentary of “Scatty!”

Miss Blacklock spoke in a pleasant well-bred voice.

“Good morning, Inspector Craddock. This is my friend, Miss Bunner,who helps me run the house. Won’t you sit down? You won’t smoke, I sup-pose?”

“Not on duty, I’m afraid, Miss Blacklock.”

“What a shame!”

Craddock’s eyes took in the room with a quick, practised glance. TypicalVictorian double drawing room. Two long windows in this room, built-outbay window in the other … chairs … sofa … centre table with a big bowl ofchrysanthemums - another bowl in window - all fresh and pleasantwithout much originality. The only incongruous note was a small silvervase with dead violets in it on a table near the archway into the furtherroom. Since he could not imagine Miss Blacklock tolerating dead flowersin a room, he imagined it to be the only indication that something out ofthe way had occurred to distract the routine of a well-run household.

He said:

“I take it, Miss Blacklock, that this is the room in which the-incident oc-curred?”

“Yes.”

“And you should have seen it last night,” Miss Bunner exclaimed. “Sucha mess. Two little tables knocked over, and the leg off one-people bargingabout in the dark-and someone put down a lighted cigarette and burntone of the best bits of furniture. People-young people especially-are socareless about these things … Luckily none of the china got broken-”

Miss Blacklock interrupted gently but firmly:

“Dora, all these things, vexatious as they may be, are only trifles. It willbe best, I think, if we just answer Inspector Craddock’s questions.”

“Thank you, Miss Blacklock. I shall come to what happened last night,presently. First of all I want you to tell me when you first saw the deadman-Rudi Scherz.”

“Rudi Scherz?” Miss Blacklock looked slightly surprised. “Is that hisname? Somehow, I thought … Oh, well, it doesn’t matter. My first en-counter with him was when I was in Medenham Spa for a day’s shoppingabout-let me see, about three weeks ago. We-Miss Bunner and I-werehaving lunch at the Royal Spa Hotel. As we were just leaving after lunch, Iheard my name spoken. It was this young man. He said: ‘It is Miss Black-lock, is it not?’ And went on to say that perhaps I did not remember him,but that he was the son of the proprietor of the Hotel des Alpes atMontreux where my sister and I had stayed for nearly a year during thewar.”

“The Hotel des Alpes, Montreux,” noted Craddock. “And did you remem-ber him, Miss Blacklock?”

“No, I didn’t. Actually I had no recollection of ever having seen him be-fore. These boys at hotel reception desks all look exactly alike. We had hada very pleasant time at Montreux and the proprietor there had been ex-tremely obliging, so I tried to be as civil as possible and said I hoped hewas enjoying being in England, and he said, yes, that his father had senthim over for six months to learn the hotel business. It all seemed quitenatural.”

“And your next encounter?”

“About-yes, it must have been ten days ago, he suddenly turned uphere. I was very surprised to see him. He apologized for troubling me, butsaid I was the only person he knew in England. He told me that he ur-gently needed money to return to Switzerland as his mother was danger-ously ill.”

“But Letty didn’t give it to him,” Miss Bunner put in breathlessly.

“It was a thoroughly fishy story,” said Miss Blacklock, with vigour. “Imade up my mind that he was definitely a wrong ’un. That story aboutwanting the money to return to Switzerland was nonsense. His fathercould easily have wired for arrangements to have been made in this coun-try. These hotel people are all in with each other. I suspected that he’dbeen embezzling money or something of that kind.” She paused and saiddryly: “In case you think I’m hardhearted, I was secretary for many yearsto a big financier and one becomes wary about appeals for money. I knowsimply all the hard-luck stories there are.

“The only thing that did surprise me,” she added thoughtfully, “was thathe gave in so easily. He went away at once without any more argument.

It’s as though he had never expected to get the money.”

“Do you think now, looking back on it, that his coming was really byway of a pretext to spy out the land?”

Miss Blacklock nodded her head vigorously.

“That’s exactly what I do think-now. He made certain remarks as I lethim out-about the rooms. He said, ‘You have a very nice dining room’

(which of course it isn’t-it’s a horrid dark little room) just as an excuse tolook inside. And then he sprang forward and unfastened the front door,said, ‘Let me.’ I think now he wanted to have a look at the fastening. Actu-ally, like most people round here, we never lock the front door until it getsdark. Anyone could walk in.”

“And the side door? There is a side door to the garden, I understand?”

“Yes. I went out through it to shut up the ducks not long before thepeople arrived.”

“Was it locked when you went out?”

Miss Blacklock frowned.

“I can’t remember … I think so. I certainly locked it when I came in.”

“That would be about quarter past six?”

“Somewhere about then.”

“And the front door?”

“That’s not usually locked until later.”

“Then Scherz could have walked in quite easily that way. Or he couldhave slipped in whilst you were out shutting up the ducks. He’d alreadyspied out the lie of the land and had probably noted various places of con-cealment-cupboards, etc. Yes, that all seems quite clear.”

“I beg your pardon, it isn’t at all clear,” said Miss Blacklock. “Why onearth should anyone take all that elaborate trouble to come and burglethis house and stage that silly sort of hold-up?”

“Do you keep much money in the house, Miss Blacklock?”

“About five pounds in that desk there, and perhaps a pound or two inmy purse.”

“Jewellery?”

“A couple of rings and brooches, and the cameos I’m wearing. You mustagree with me, Inspector, that the whole thing’s absurd.”

“It wasn’t burglary at all,” cried Miss Bunner. “I’ve told you so, Letty, allalong. It was revenge! Because you wouldn’t give him that money! He de-liberately shot at you-twice.”

“Ah,” said Craddock. “We’ll come now to last night. What happened ex-actly, Miss Blacklock? Tell me in your own words as nearly as you can re-member.”

Miss Blacklock reflected a moment.

“The clock struck,” she said. “The one on the mantelpiece. I remembersaying that if anything were going to happen it would have to happensoon. And then the clock struck. We all listened to it without saying any-thing. It chimes, you know. It chimed the two quarters and then, quitesuddenly, the lights went out.”

“What lights were on?”

“The wall brackets in here and the further room. The standard lamp andthe two small reading lamps weren’t on.”

“Was there a flash first, or a noise when the lights went out?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’m sure there was a flash,” said Dora Bunner. “And a cracking noise.

Dangerous!”

“And then, Miss Blacklock?”

“The door opened-”

“Which door? There are two in the room.”

“Oh, this door in here. The one in the other room doesn’t open. It’s adummy. The door opened and there he was-a masked man with a re-volver. It just seemed too fantastic for words, but of course at the time Ijust thought it was a silly joke. He said something-I forget what-”

“Hands up or I shoot!” supplied Miss Bunner, dramatically.

“Something like that,” said Miss Blacklock, rather doubtfully.

“And you all put your hands up?”

“Oh, yes,” said Miss Bunner. “We all did. I mean, it was part of it.”

“I didn’t,” said Miss Blacklock crisply. “It seemed so utterly silly. And Iwas annoyed by the whole thing.”

“And then?”

“The flashlight was right in my eyes. It dazzled me. And then, quite in-credibly, I heard a bullet whizz past me and hit the wall by my head.

Somebody shrieked and then I felt a burning pain in my ear and heard thesecond report.”

“It was terrifying,” put in Miss Bunner.

“And what happened next, Miss Blacklock?”

“It’s difficult to say-I was so staggered by the pain and the surprise. The-the figure turned away and seemed to stumble and then there was an-other shot and his torch went out and everybody began pushing and call-ing out. All banging into each other.”

“Where were you standing, Miss Blacklock?”

“She was over by the table. She’d got that vase of violets in her hand,”

said Miss Bunner breathlessly.

“I was over here.” Miss Blacklock went over to the small table by thearchway. “Actually it was the cigarette box I’d got in my hand.”

Inspector Craddock examined the wall behind her. The two bullet holesshowed plainly. The bullets themselves had been extracted and had beensent for comparison with the revolver.

He said quietly:

“You had a very near escape, Miss Blacklock.”

“He did shoot at her,” said Miss Bunner. “Deliberately at her! I saw him.

He turned the flash round on everybody until he found her and then heheld it right at her and just fired at her. He meant to kill you, Letty.”

“Dora dear, you’ve just got that into your head from mulling the wholething over and over.”

“He shot at you,” repeated Dora stubbornly. “He meant to shoot you andwhen he’d missed, he shot himself. I’m certain that’s the way it was!”

“I don’t think he meant to shoot himself for a minute,” said Miss Black-lock. “He wasn’t the kind of man who shoots himself.”

“You tell me, Miss Blacklock, that until the revolver was fired youthought the whole business was a joke?”

“Naturally. What else could I think it was?”

“Who do you think was the author of this joke?”

“You thought Patrick had done it at first,” Dora Bunner reminded her.

“Patrick?” asked the Inspector sharply.

“My young cousin, Patrick Simmons,” Miss Blacklock continued sharply,annoyed with her friend. “It did occur to me when I saw this advertise-ment that it might be some attempt at humour on his part, but he denied itabsolutely.”

“And then you were worried, Letty,” said Miss Bunner. “You were wor-ried, although you pretended not to be. And you were quite right to beworried. It said a murder is announced-and it was announced-yourmurder! And if the man hadn’t missed, you would have been murdered.

And then where should we all be?”

Dora Bunner was trembling as she spoke. Her face was puckered up andshe looked as though she were going to cry.

Miss Blacklock patted her on the shoulder.

“It’s all right, Dora dear - don’t get excited. It’s so bad for you.

Everything’s quite all right. We’ve had a nasty experience, but it’s overnow.” She added, “You must pull yourself together for my sake, Dora. Irely on you, you know, to keep the house going. Isn’t it the day for thelaundry to come?”

“Oh, dear me, Letty, how fortunate you reminded me! I wonder if they’llreturn that missing pillowcase. I must make a note in the book about it. I’llgo and see to it at once.”

“And take those violets away,” said Miss Blacklock. “There’s nothing Ihate more than dead flowers.”

“What a pity. I picked them fresh yesterday. They haven’t lasted at all-oh, dear, I must have forgotten to put any water in the vase. Fancy that!

I’m always forgetting things. Now I must go and see about the laundry.

They might be here any moment.”

She bustled away, looking quite happy again.

“She’s not very strong,” said Miss Blacklock, “and excitements are badfor her. Is there anything more you want to know, Inspector?”

“I just want to know exactly how many people make up your householdhere and something about them.”

“Yes, well in addition to myself and Dora Bunner, I have two youngcousins living here at present, Patrick and Julia Simmons.”

“Cousins? Not a nephew and niece?”

“No. They call me Aunt Letty, but actually they are distant cousins. Theirmother was my second cousin.”

“Have they always made their home with you?”

“Oh, dear no, only for the last two months. They lived in the South ofFrance before the war. Patrick went into the Navy and Julia, I believe, wasin one of the Ministries. She was at Llandudno. When the war was overtheir mother wrote and asked me if they could possibly come to me aspaying guests-Julia is training as a dispenser in Milchester General Hos-pital, Patrick is studying for an engineering degree at Milchester Univer-sity. Milchester, as you know, is only fifty minutes by bus, and I was veryglad to have them here. This house is really too large for me. They pay asmall sum for board and lodging and it all works out very well.” She ad-ded with a smile, “I like having somebody young about the place.”

“Then there is a Mrs. Haymes, I believe?”

“Yes. She works as an assistant gardener at Dayas Hall, Mrs. Lucas’splace. The cottage there is occupied by the old gardener and his wife andMrs. Lucas asked if I could billet her here. She’s a very nice girl. Her hus-band was killed in Italy, and she has a boy of eight who is at a prep schooland whom I have arranged to have here in the holidays.”

“And by way of domestic help?”

“A jobbing gardener comes in on Tuesdays and Fridays. A Mrs. Hugginsfrom the village comes up five mornings a week and I have a foreignrefugee with a most unpronouncable name as a kind of lady cook help.

You will find Mitzi rather difficult, I’m afraid. She has a kind of persecu-tion mania.”

Craddock nodded. He was conscious in his own mind of yet another ofConstable Legg’s invaluable commentaries. Having appended the word“Scatty” to Dora Bunner, and “All right” to Letitia Blacklock, he had embel-lished Mitzi’s record with the one word “Liar.”

As though she had read his mind Miss Blacklock said:

“Please don’t be too prejudiced against the poor thing because she’s aliar. I do really believe that, like so many liars, there is a real substratumof truth behind her lies. I mean that though, to take an instance, her atro-city stories have grown and grown until every kind of unpleasant storythat has ever appeared in print has happened to her or her relations per-sonally, she did have a bad shock initially and did see one, at least, of herrelations killed. I think a lot of these displaced persons feel, perhaps justly,that their claim to our notice and sympathy lies in their atrocity value andso they exaggerate and invent.”

She added: “Quite frankly, Mitzi is a maddening person. She exasperatesand infuriates us all, she is suspicious and sulky, is perpetually having‘feelings’ and thinking herself insulted. But in spite of it all, I really amsorry for her.” She smiled. “And also, when she wants to, she can cookvery nicely.”

“I’ll try not to ruffle her more than I can help,” said Craddock soothingly.

“Was that Miss Julia Simmons who opened the door to me?”

“Yes. Would you like to see her now? Patrick has gone out. Phillipa Hay-mes you will find working at Dayas Hall.”

“Thank you, Miss Blacklock. I’d like to see Miss Simmons now if I may.”