As if by Magic (37 page)

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Authors: Dolores Gordon-Smith

BOOK: As if by Magic
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Maguire, forced back over the side of the cockpit, raised his fists and started to hit back but he might as well have tried to fight through a brick wall. Heedless of blows, Nigel slammed punches into him.

‘Leave them!' cried Jack as George, with a yell, ran to try and pull the two men apart. George ignored him, grabbing hold of Nigel. Nigel paused, looked at George blankly, before saying, his face as calm and his voice as steady as if he were making after-dinner conversation in the drawing room, ‘He wrecked my plane.' Then, as casually as if he were swatting a fly, he flung off George and fastened his hands round Maguire's neck.

Maguire's eyes bulged. His knee came up convulsively, catching Nigel in the groin. Nigel grunted, slackened his grip and Maguire struck out. Nigel, caught off balance, fell back, taking Maguire with him.

There was a series of thumps, followed by a single high-pitched, seemingly endless scream. The engine note changed and a slushing, grinding noise filled the air. The engines faltered, coughed, and roared into full life again.

Jack dived for the controls and shut off the engines. They closed down with a roar and the noise of the propellers separated into single notes before they beat to a standstill, leaving only the sound of the river lapping against the sides of the pontoons.

‘Jack,' said George, his voice horribly unsteady. ‘They fell into the propellers.'

Jack leaned his head back on the seat. ‘I know,' he managed to say. ‘I heard them. I know.'

How long they were there he couldn't tell. Afterwards he wondered if sheer exhaustion and over-stretched nerves had taken their toll for the next thing he was really aware of was George, standing up in the wreckage of the cockpit, shouting to someone on the bridge. Then George put an arm under his shoulders, helping him to his feet. ‘Come on, old man. Rackham's got a boat here for us, but we've got to climb down to it.'

Jack blinked himself fully awake and, thankful for George's support, hauled himself to his feet. Every muscle in his body ached and his ribs, where Maguire had kicked him, yelled a protest. He saw the worried expression on George's face and summoned up a smile. ‘I'm fine.'

‘Of course you are,' said George with a relieved grin. ‘Let's get off this aircraft.'

They picked their way through the smashed cockpit over the deck and down what remained of the tangled ladder to the boat where Rackham was sitting with two officers from the River Police.

‘It's a relief to see you again,' said Rackham as the police steered the boat the short distance to the shore. ‘I didn't have a clue where you'd got to until we got a call from the river men.' He paused. ‘I gather Maguire bought it.'

Jack stepped on to the bank. ‘You could say that. Nigel too.'

‘Did he?' Rackham winced. ‘That wasn't supposed to happen.' He was silent for a few moments. ‘Well, it can't be helped, I suppose. Do you think you can manage the walk back to Saffron Place? We're still clearing everyone out of the club. The AC's directing operations but we can take you home from there – or to hospital,' he added doubtfully, looking at Jack's filthy, torn clothing and mud-covered face. ‘My word, you look a sight. I hardly recognized you under all the mud.'

Jack managed another smile. ‘You'll eat a peck of dirt before you die,' he said with an attempt at humour and was rewarded by a laugh from Rackham. He felt his ribs gingerly. ‘Despite how I feel, I don't think there's anything broken. Where the devil were you, by the way, when that bugger Maguire was giving me the third degree?'

‘A waiter came along, saw the office door was ajar, shut it, and stood against the wall. I couldn't open the door without giving the alarm so I decided to wait a few minutes unless you blew the whistle in the meantime.' He looked at Jack. ‘So he collared you, did he?'

‘Absolutely he did. It was a nasty moment. As I said, a plan never survives the first encounter with the enemy.'

‘Jack,' said George soberly as they walked back to Saffron Place, ‘how on earth are we going to break the news about Nigel to my grandfather? Coming on top of what's happened to David, this'll kill him.'

‘David?' It took Jack an effort to realize that George didn't know the truth. ‘David's all right.'

‘But he's in prison.'

‘Not for long. He should be released soon.'

George looked at him in bewilderment. ‘But what about Culverton? He confessed to killing Culverton. I heard him, Jack. I was there when he said it.'

‘He's all right,' Jack repeated wearily. ‘I'll tell you the whole story later but David didn't kill anyone. He'll be fine.'

They walked up Tilford Lane where a single police wagon still stood outside the Continental, rimmed by a party of police. Sir Douglas Lynton, the Assistant Commissioner, broke off from the group. ‘Inspector Rackham! This has been a stunning night's work.' He looked dubiously at Jack, then started. ‘Good God, Major, I hardly recognized you. I can scarcely congratulate you enough on what you've done.'

‘Thanks, sir,' said Jack. He was so tired that it was a real effort to speak and he couldn't get that slushing, grinding noise out of his mind. He didn't want to be congratulated.

‘There's one more body to be brought out,' said Sir Douglas to Rackham. ‘Three people committed suicide rather than be arrested.' He looked up as two policemen came down the steps carrying a covered stretcher. ‘This is the last of them. Who is it?' he asked the leading stretcher-bearer.

The stretcher-bearer shook his head. ‘We don't know, sir. It's a woman, that's all I can say. We found her in one of the bedrooms. She'd shot herself.'

Sir Douglas stepped forward and drew back the cover on the stretcher. Jack felt rather than heard the agonized cry that George gave as they looked into the dead, distorted face of Stella Aldryn. It was over.

Chapter Sixteen

Only, of course, it wasn't over. The next day, Rackham, Haldean and Dr Kincraig saw David Lassiter before he was formally released. The records from the club had to be gone through and Rackham, with occasional bursts of inspiration from Jack, started on the task of putting the information he had gathered into a formal report.

It was the following week when the letter arrived. It was from Anne.

. . .
I know there's far more to it all than either David or George can tell me. Please, Major Haldean, will you explain what happened? Grandfather and Peggy keep asking me questions and I simply can't answer them.

Jack tossed the letter across the breakfast table to George. ‘How come you haven't spoken to Anne? You were at Eden Street yesterday.'

George read the letter, crunching his way through toast and marmalade. He looked, thought Jack, remarkably embarrassed. ‘The trouble is,' said George, fiddling with the butter knife, ‘it's not so blinking easy. I feel such an idiot, being taken in by Stella, that I'd rather not talk about it, especially to Anne, and, of course, I don't know how she feels about that swine, Maguire. I mean, it's not very savoury, is it? Then again, I know Grandfather is relieved to have David back but Nigel was his son, too, and I don't want to make it any worse for him. Besides that, Mrs Culverton was there yesterday and I can hardly talk about her husband in front of her. To be honest, I've kept my head down.'

‘Hmm, yes,' said Jack. ‘I can see it's difficult.'

‘Why don't you speak to her?' asked George. He glanced at the letter again. ‘It's what she wants.'

The grandfather clock in the hall had chimed half past nine when Jack opened the door to Anne Lassiter. Peggy Culverton was with her and, looking very pleased with himself, David Lassiter. ‘Come in,' said Jack, taking their coats. ‘I asked Bill Rackham and Dr Kincraig to join us, as they can explain parts of the story far better than I can. You've eaten, haven't you?'

‘Yes, we've had dinner,' said Anne. ‘Grandfather thought of coming, but I managed to persuade him to stay at home.'

‘How is he?'

‘Better. He's still knocked out about Nigel, but David's news cheered him up.'

Jack looked inquisitively at David Lassiter.

‘Peggy and I are going to be married,' said David with a broad grin. ‘We announced the news at dinner tonight.'

‘Congratulations!' Jack turned to Peggy Culverton. ‘I hope you'll be very happy. I'm sure you will be.'

‘Thank you.' She looked radiant. All the wariness which he had come to associate with her had gone. She reached out her hand to him. ‘We've got you to thank, I know. If you hadn't managed to work things out, it would have all ended very differently. There aren't really words for this sort of thing. You can only guess how grateful I am.'

He smiled warmly at her. ‘I didn't do it by myself, you know, but thanks.' He showed them into the sitting room where George Lassiter, Bill Rackham and Dr Kincraig were waiting. ‘Make yourselves at home. This calls for something special,' he said, once everyone had sat down. ‘Hang on. I won't be a jiffy.'

He was back in a few minutes, holding three dusty green bottles. ‘Moët et Chandon,' he explained. ‘I've got a case in the cellar.' Anne helped him fetch glasses from the sideboard. ‘To the happy couple,' he said, pouring out the champagne. ‘You deserve it.'

They drank the toast then Anne looked at him over the top of her glass. ‘Will you tell us the story? None of us know what happened.'

‘Wait a moment,' said Peggy Culverton. ‘Major Haldean, there's something I must know. Was I right about Alexander? Was he the Ripper? I was certain he was but then, when that other murder happened, it seemed as if I'd been wrong.'

Jack took a deep breath. ‘You weren't wrong, Mrs Culverton,' he said gently.

She flinched. ‘I knew it,' she muttered. ‘So he was the X man. In the end I was terrified of him. I seem to have been frightened for so
long.
'

David Lassiter covered her hand with his. ‘There's nothing to be frightened of now.' He gave Jack a puzzled look. ‘I still can't work it out. I know Nigel was involved but not what he actually did.'

‘Nigel, I'm afraid,' said Jack, ‘was as guilty as Roger Maguire and Stella Aldryn. The three of them were in it up to their necks.'

David Lassiter and Anne exchanged looks. ‘It doesn't surprise me,' said David after a pause. ‘He might have been my brother but he was a callous devil. How did it all start?'

‘It started,' said Jack, taking a cigar from the box and lighting it, ‘when Stella Aldryn met Roger Maguire. That was about three years ago. That they had an affair was obvious, but they had something else in common and that was greed.'

Anne stared at him. ‘Roger had an affair with
Stella
?' Jack nodded.

‘It came as a shock to me as well,' said George quietly.

‘But why?' demanded Anne. ‘If he was having an affair with her, why did he bother with me?'

Jack hesitated. ‘I think I know the answer but I'll come to it in its proper place. It might make more sense, then. Incidentally, when did Nigel meet Maguire for the first time?'

David Lassiter shrugged. ‘Nigel had known Maguire for years. I'd met him occasionally. Naturally I met him a great deal more often after he started seeing Anne.'

‘Which makes,' said Jack, staring at the end of his cigar, ‘it all easier to understand. You see, what happened was this. Stella was employed as a clerk at Marchbolt's, the solicitors who dealt with George's legacy.' He paused and looked at Rackham. ‘We knew that the information about George's legacy more or less had to come from either George himself or the solicitors but what puzzled Bill and me was that the solicitors seemed so honest. Once we knew Stella Aldryn was implicated, it was easy. Bill showed them her photograph and they recognized her at once. She'd changed her name since she worked for them but it was Stella, all right.'

‘It explained a lot, didn't it, Jack?' said Rackham. ‘For instance, Marchbolt's had apparently written to Mr Lassiter at Eden Street but never got a reply. Stella actually typed that letter – I've seen the carbon – and I imagine she saw it never got near the post-box.'

‘It was during the course of her work that she came to hear of the whacking great sum of forty-six thousand chasing a missing legatee,' said Jack, ‘and, naturally, she was able to look at the file to discover all sorts of interesting facts about your mother, George. She probably recognized the surname, Lassiter, as belonging to one of Maguire's friends. Anyway, the three of them, Maguire, Nigel and Stella, got together and stole the money.'

‘Devils,' muttered George.

‘Relax,' said Jack. ‘After all, you're getting it back, isn't he, Bill?'

‘Certainly, Mr Lassiter,' said Rackham. ‘You were clearly defrauded. Both Maguire and Stella Aldryn had a great deal of money salted away abroad. I imagine it was their intention to run for it, should it ever look as if the game was up. I'm happy to say there's more than enough to make good your loss.'

‘I told you that, George,' said Jack.

George shifted in his chair. ‘I know you did but I'm still hopping mad about it, to say nothing of being taken in by Stella. She must have laughed herself stupid to see what an impression she'd made on me.'

‘Grandfather always disliked Stella,' said Anne.

David nodded. ‘I never cared for her much, either. She was too wide-eyed and innocent for me. It seemed unnatural sometimes but what really got to me was the amount of time she had off. Nigel didn't seem to notice. I thought it was because he was so absorbed in the Pegasus.'

‘There was a much simpler explanation,' said Jack. ‘Stella Aldryn was supposedly employed by your firm but the life she lived bore no relation to an ordinary clerk's. She had an eye-wateringly expensive flat in Knightsbridge – where, incidentally, Maguire was a frequent visitor – and lived the life of a wealthy woman of fashion. Naturally enough, she took care that George never saw the flat.'

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