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Eighteen
I
Frank Cornish replaced the receiver.
“Miss Brewster is out of London for the day,” he announced.
“Is she now?” said Craddock.
“Do you think she—”
“I don’t know. I shouldn’t think so, but I don’t know. Ardwyck Fenn?”
“Out. I left word for him to ring you. And Margot Bence, Personality
Photographer, has got an assignment somewhere in the country. Her
pansy partner didn’t know where — or said he didn’t. And the butler’s
hooked it to London.”
“I wonder,” said Craddock thoughtfully, “if the butler has hooked it for
good. I always suspect dying relatives. Why was he suddenly anxious to go
to London today?”
“He could have put the cyanide in the atomizer easily enough before he
left.”
“Anybody could.”
“But I think he’s indicated. It could hardly be someone from outside.”
“Oh, yes, it could. You’d have to judge your moment. You could leave a
car in one of the side drives, wait until everyone is in the dining room, say,
and slip in through a window and upstairs. The shrubberies come close up
to the house.”
“Damn’ risky.”
“This murderer doesn’t mind taking risks, you know. That’s been appar-
ent all along.”
“We’ve had a man on duty in the grounds.”
“I know. One man wasn’t enough. So long as it was a question of these
anonymous letters I didn’t feel so much urgency. Marina Gregg herself is
being well guarded. It never occurred to me that anyone else was in
danger. I—”
The telephone rang. Cornish took the call.
“It’s the Dorchester. Mr. Ardwyck Fenn is on the line.”
He proffered the receiver to Craddock who took it.
“Mr. Fenn? This is Craddock here.”
“Ah, yes. I heard you had rung me. I have been out all day.”
“I am sorry to tell you, Mr. Fenn, that Miss Zielinsky died this morning—
of cyanide poisoning.”
“Indeed? I am shocked to hear it. An accident? Or not an accident?”
“Not an accident. Prussic acid had been put in an atomizer she was in
the habit of using.”
“I see. Yes, I see…” There was a short pause. “And why, may I ask,
should you ring me about this distressing occurrence?”
“You knew Miss Zielinsky, Mr. Fenn?”
“Certainly I knew her. I have known her for some years. But she was not
an intimate friend.”
“We hoped that you could, perhaps, assist us?”
“In what way?”
“We wondered if you could suggest any motive for her death. She is a
stranger in this country. We know very little about her friends and associ-
ates and the circumstances of her life.”
“I would suggest that Jason Rudd is the person to question about that.”
“Naturally. We have done so. But there might be an off-chance that you
might know something about her that he does not.”
“I’m afraid that is not so. I know next to nothing about Ella Zielinsky ex-
cept that she was a most capable young woman, and first-class at her job.
About her private life I know nothing at all.”
“So you have no suggestions to make?”
Craddock was ready for the decisive negative, but to his surprise it did
not come. Instead there was a pause. He could hear Ardwyck Fenn breath-
ing rather heavily at the other end.
“Are you still there, Chief-Inspector?”
“Yes, Mr. Fenn. I’m here.”
“I have decided to tell you something that may be of assistance to you.
When you hear what it is, you will realize that I have every reason to keep
it to myself. But I judge that in the end that might be unwise. The facts are
these. A couple of days ago I received a telephone call. A voice spoke to me
in a whisper. It said—I am quoting now—I saw you… I saw you put the tab-
lets in the glass… You didn’t know there had been an eyewitness, did you?
That’s all for now—very soon you will be told what you have to do.”
Craddock uttered an ejaculation of astonishment.
“Surprising, was it not, Mr. Craddock? I will assure you categorically
that the accusation was entirely unfounded. I did not put tablets in any-
body’s glass. I defy anyone to prove that I did. The suggestion is utterly ab-
surd. But it would seem, would it not, that Miss Zielinsky was embarking
on blackmail.”
“You recognized her voice?”
“You cannot recognize a whisper. But it was Ella Zielinsky all right.”
“How do you know?”
“The whisperer sneezed heavily before ringing off. I knew that Miss
Zielinsky suffered from hay fever.”
“And you think—what?”
“I think that Miss Zielinsky got hold of the wrong person at her first at-
tempt. It seems to me possible that she was more successful later. Black-
mail can be a dangerous game.”
Craddock pulled himself together.
“I must thank you for your statement, Mr. Fenn. As a matter of form, I
shall have to check upon your movements today.”
“Naturally. My chauffeur will be able to give you precise information.”
Craddock rang off and repeated what Fenn had said. Cornish whistled.
“Either that lets him out completely. Or else—”
“Or else it’s a magnificent piece of bluff. It could be. He’s the kind of
man who has the nerve for it. If there’s the least chance that Ella Zielinsky
left a record of her suspicions, then this taking of the bull by the horns is a
magnificent bluff.”
“And his alibi?”
“We’ve come across some very good faked alibis in our time,” said Crad-
dock. “He could afford to pay a good sum for one.”
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