Dead in the Water (18 page)

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Authors: Carola Dunn

BOOK: Dead in the Water
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Susan was on the point of speaking again but Tom held up his hand. “How did you come to fall in, sir?” he asked. “That is, did Lord DeLancey push you, or drop you in when you were unconscious?”
“I don't think so,” Bott said unwillingly, obviously reluctant to give DeLancey the benefit of the doubt. “As far as I can remember, I was caught off balance, stepping back, when the bullet hit me, and I just staggered backwards into the river. But I couldn't swear to it. I was seeing stars. I don't remember hitting the water, so I suppose I was unconscious by then.”
To Daisy, his resisting the temptation to accuse DeLancey of pushing or throwing him into the Thames gave his story the final ring of truth. She was already inclined to believe him. He hadn't had time to make up a tale, and anyway he was clearly the victim.
What she was dying to know was
why
Lord DeLancey had wanted to kill Bott. She would have asked long ago, but she thought Tom Tring was quite capable of sending her out if she interrupted, even though he allowed Susan a certain leeway. The sergeant had his own way of doing things.
Susan was about to speak again but Tom held up his hand to stop her. “Right, sir,” he said, “and just what was it took you to Temple Island at that hour of the morning to meet Lord DeLancey?”
“His request, Sergeant. After the Chief Inspector and I had our little chat, Gladstone gave me a note he had found on the hall table, with my name on it. A leaf torn from a pocketbook, it appeared to be. It said, ‘I must talk to you,' and proposed the time and place. That's all. None of the social amenities for
me.
”
“Signed?”
“No, but I guessed who it was from. Anyone in the house who wanted to speak to me had no need to write a note, nor to suggest such an inconvenient meeting place. And I heard Wells mention that DeLancey had turned up that afternoon. Not a difficult deduction.”
“And why would Lord DeLancey want to talk to you, sir?”
Tom's stolid enquiry was followed by silence. Daisy glanced up. Bott had a distinctly wary look in his eye.
“I don't know,” he said brusquely. “I suppose because I wasn't there when he talked to the rest of the crew about his brother.”
“No need to go to Temple Island for that, was there, sir?” Tom's mild, placid manner remained unchanged. He seemed almost bovine, an impression Daisy knew to be grossly misleading. “I'm sure you must've guessed, or
deduced
, something more, or you wouldn't've turned up.”
“I don't know, I tell you.” Bott was fretful now. “Must you pester me? I was nearly killed a few hours ago. I'm not up to an interrogation.”
“Leave him alone!” said Susan. “Can't you see he's not well? Are you achy, Horace, or feverish?” She laid her hand on his forehead. “Shall I ring for Sister?”
“No! For heaven's sake, don't fuss, Susan.”
“Perhaps you'll feel better for a drink of water, sir. Your mouth's dry from talking, I expect.”
At Bott's grudging nod, Tom raised him a little and Susan gave him the glass of water from the night-stand. He drank thirstily, then complained, “It tastes just like the Thames.”
“Comes straight out of the river, I dare say. Now, just one or two more questions, sir, and I'll leave you in peace. You must see we have to know why you agreed to meet Lord DeLancey. He wasn't by any chance blackmailing you?”
“Blackmailing
me
?” Bott snorted with an unamused laugh. “What the deuce do I have that he might want? Besides, you've got it the wrong way round, haven't you? Blackmailers are supposed to be done in by their victims.”
“It's always possible,” Tom said weightily, “that you attacked him, and he shot you in self-defence.”
“Here now, don't you try to make me into the villain of the piece!” cried Bott. “If you want to know, he thought
I
was going to blackmail
him
. I went to Temple Island for the pleasure of laughing in his face when he tried to bribe me to keep quiet. Only he didn't try to bribe me, he tried to kill me.”
“And what, sir, do you know about Lord DeLancey that he'd rather you kept quiet about?”
There was a long silence. Daisy discovered she was holding her breath, and she thought Susan was, too. Tom waited with massive patience. The struggle in Horace Bott's mind was apparent on his face.
“I'll tell you!” he burst out at last. “Cedric DeLancey killed his brother!”
“
T
hose were his exact words?” Alec demanded.
Daisy peered at her shorthand, her own peculiar brand of Pitman's. Since no one else could read it and Alec wanted a verbatim report, he had been forced to include her in his conference with his sergeant, in the nurses' sitting room. He couldn't object. Tom had not wanted to stem the flow of Bott's revelations while he wrote down every word, and Alec admitted he had not expected Bott to come round so soon or speak so readily.
“‘Cedric DeLancey killed his brother,'” Daisy repeated. “After that, Bott refused to say another word. Then Sister came in and shooed Sergeant Tring and me out. She let Susan stay, though, and I shouldn't be surprised if she persuaded him he simply has to back up a statement like that.”
“Not to mention explaining why he didn't tell me sooner,” Alec agreed grimly. “Tom, what about the Mauser?”
“Nicely polished, Chief.” Tom's face was bland.
“Not even smears or smudges? There couldn't have been a struggle for it?”
“Not unless both parties was wearing gloves.”
“DeLancey says he wore gloves. Bott did not, at least not when we pulled him out, and I doubt he was in the river long enough for them to wash off.”
“Lord DeLancey says they struggled for the pistol?” Daisy asked.
“He says Mr. Bott took the pistol and shot himself, miss,” Piper informed her.
“Suicide! I wouldn't have said he acted at all like someone who just failed to commit suicide, would you, Mr. Tring?”
“Can't say I would, miss. Did Lord DeLancey say why Mr. Bott wanted to kill himself, Chief?”
Alec frowned at him, looked at Daisy, and sighed. “Guilt, and fear of hanging. I suppose you might as well hear the rest.” He gave one of his admirable nutshell summaries of his interview with DeLancey. “Have I missed anything, Ernie?”
Piper had skimmed his orthodox-shorthand notes as Alec spoke. “Not really, Chief, just that Lord DeLancey was in a state over getting written about in the newspapers, same as last time.”
“It seems to be all he cares about,” said Daisy. “If you ask me, this whole affair came about because of Lord DeLancey's fear of gossip. That's what he quarrelled with Basil about after the Thames Cup heat, so if it's true that he killed him … . There's only one way Bott could know, isn't there, Alec?”
“Only one I can think of. Unless his health would be seriously endangered, I have to try to get the rest of the story from him. I'd better consult Sister.”
“I'll have a word with Susan,” Daisy volunteered, and escaped from the room before Alec could stop her.
She tapped on the door of Bott's room. Opening it, Susan glanced past her, saw she was alone, and in a hushed voice invited her in.
“How is he?” Daisy whispered. Bott was lying flat, eyes shut, but his cheeks now had a tinge of colour, not feverish, just enough so he no longer appeared to be at death's door. It struck her how frightfully lucky he had been not to be killed, or at least seriously injured, by the bullet, and to have someone at hand to pull him out of the Thames.
Did he know who had rescued him? Neither she nor Tom Tring had told him, and she had not told Susan. Perhaps gratitude might persuade him to talk to Alec.
“His head hurts,” said Susan. “Sister gave him some tablets, phenatecin, I think.”
Phenacetin, presumably—a pain-killer, not sleep-inducing, as far as Daisy knew. She raised her voice a bit. “Good, he must be feeling better. He'll be able to talk to Chief Inspector Fletcher.” From the corner of her eye, she saw Bott's eyelids flicker.
“I told him he's going to have to, but he won't.”
“No? Well, you know him much better than I do, but I should have thought he'd want to thank the man who saved his life.”
“Saved his life?” Susan exclaimed.
“Yes, didn't you know? Maybe I didn't mention it. We were on the river this morning when he fell in, and Mr. Fletcher jumped in to pull him out.” No need to confuse matters with Cherry's part in the drama. A solo rescue was more impressive.
“Reelly?”
“Yes, so don't you think he'll want to express his gratitude?
Or—oh dear!—perhaps he isn't grateful. Perhaps it's true, as Lord DeLancey claims, that Mr. Bott was trying to commit suicide.”
“I was not!” shouted Bott.
Daisy turned and gave him a hard look. “No? But why should anyone believe you rather than him, when you won't explain your claim that he killed Basil?”
“All right, I'll tell,” said Bott sulkily, just as Alec burst in. Behind him, Sister came to a halt on the threshold, with Tom and Piper peering over her shoulders.
“Someone cried out!” Alec's swift glance swept the room, far too small to conceal an intruder. His gaze came to rest on Daisy.
She gave him a smug smile. “Nothing to worry about,” she said. “You'll be pleased to hear that Mr. Bott has now recovered sufficiently to tell you the rest of his story.”
Sister pushed past Alec to lay a hand on Bott's forehead. “You're rather flushed.” She clasped his wrist. “Are you sure you feel well enough?”
“Yes,” he said curtly.
“Well, your pulse is quite strong and steady, I must say. Ten minutes, Chief Inspector.” She glanced at the watch pinned to her apron and bustled out, Tom and Piper parting before her like the Red Sea before Moses.
“All right,” said Alec, “Piper, come in and take notes, please. Ladies …”
“I'm not leaving,” Susan said adamantly.
“Susie, I'll be …”
“Don't argue, Horace, I'm staying, and that's that.”
He held out a hand to her, and she went to take it. “Mr. Fletcher,” he said with a meekness which astonished Daisy,
“what I've got to say is going to upset Miss Hopgood. I'd be glad if you'd let Miss Dalrymple stay with her.”
Alec closed his eyes, and his lips moved silently as if he were begging heaven for mercy, or counting very fast to ten. His eyes opened again. “As you wish, Mr. Bott. Sergeant Tring—” He went to the door and said something softly to Tom, who left.
Shutting the door, Alec moved to stand at the foot of the bed. “Horace Bott, I must warn you that what you say will be taken down in writing and may be used in evidence in a court of law.”
“
I
haven't done anything illegal. You can use it against Lord DeLancey.”
“Well?”
“First, I want to thank you,” Bott said, not very graciously. “Miss Dalrymple says it was you who saved me from drowning.”
“I merely assisted Mr. Cheringham in getting you ashore.”
“Cheringham? Oh. Well, thank you anyway. I was
not
trying to kill myself.”
“I'm glad to hear it. You claim Lord DeLancey tried to kill you to keep you quiet?”
“That's right.”
“Because you witnessed his attack on his brother?”
“I heard them quarrelling in the Cheringhams' boat-house in the middle of the night,” Bott said with relish.
That had to be it, of course, Daisy thought. Alec's sharp nod showed that his mind had run on the same lines.
“Lord DeLancey saw you?” he asked.
“I don't think so. But everyone was so convinced I'd gone down there, I suppose he believed it.”
“You're prepared to swear it was the DeLancey brothers you heard?”
“I know—knew—Basil's voice all too well, and he called the man yelling at him ‘Ceddie.'”
“This is a very serious charge, Mr. Bott. You'll understand that I need some more information to support it. Let's start with exactly what they said.”
“I can't remember the exact words. ‘Ceddie' said something about being lucky the Ambrose Thames Cup heat was the first of the day and not interesting enough to bring out the reporters. Otherwise, the newspapers would have been full of Basil's assault on me. But if I went to the boat-house and he assaulted me again, I'd be bound to sue and it couldn't possibly be kept from the Press.”
“And what was Basil's response?” Alec prompted.
Bott flushed. “It was extremely insulting to me. You can't expect me to repeat it. But then he told Cedric to keep his hair on and stop interfering in what was none of his business. Cedric shouted that it damn well was his business. He was head of the family in their father's absence and like it or not Basil would do what he was told. Basil said he bloody well wouldn't kowtow to a coward. He yelled at Cedric to get out or he'd regret it. I expected Cedric—if not both of them—to come out, so that's when I left. But that must have been when they started fighting.”
“Why didn't you tell me this yesterday, Mr. Bott? Concealing information from the police is a serious offence.”
“I was sure you'd get onto Cedric DeLancey without my help, and until you caught up with him, I knew I'd be made the scapegoat if you found out I was anywhere near the boat-house. You wouldn't even have hunted any further, would you?”
“It is not my practise to look for scapegoats,” Alec said coldly. “What were you doing near the boat-house in the middle of the night?”
With a sullen glare, Bott said, “I'm sure you can work that out for yourself, Chief Inspector.”
“Oh Horace!” Susan's dismay escaped her.
He turned his head away from her.
“I might venture a guess,” Alec agreed. “You went to sabotage the fours boat.”
“Oh Horace, you promised not to do it!” She pulled her hand from his clasp.
“Well, I didn't, did I?” he snarled, goaded.
“What put the idea into your head, Mr. Bott?” Alec asked. “To take your revenge on Basil DeLancey in that particular way, I mean.”
“It was at the fair,” said Susan, when Bott seemed reluctant to answer. “We were behind Miss Cheringham and Mr. Frieth in the queue for the Ferris wheel. They didn't see us. Miss Cheringham asked Mr. Frieth if he was really sure Horace wouldn't damage the boat.”
“Did you hear Mr. Frieth's answer, Miss Hopgood?”
“Yes, he said it was just a silly idea Mr. DeLancey had got into his head. He couldn't believe Horace would spoil things for him and Mr. Cheringham and Mr. Fosdyke just to get his own back on Mr. DeLancey. And Horace
promised
me he wouldn't.”
“I wasn't going to,” Bott growled.
“What changed your mind, Mr. Bott?”
“I don't suppose I would have gone through with it.” Bott closed his eyes and spoke in a dreary monotone. “It was just—I went back to the house and up to my room. Everyone knew
I'd been shoved in the river that morning and had a long walk back from Henley, but not one of the b …—not one of them came to see if I was all right, let alone to ask me to join them downstairs. I sat and seethed till I couldn't think straight, then I decided to show the lot of them. It was stupid. I don't suppose I'd have actually done it.”
In the brief silence that followed his confession, Susan took his hand again and squeezed it. Daisy, feeling fearfully guilty that she had not enquired after him, looked at Alec. The compassion in the gaze he fixed on Bott made her wonder how much he suffered from the slights of those who considered themselves his superiors.
She would make it all up to him when they were married, she vowed passionately.
His professional mask descended again. In a matter-of-fact voice, he said, “Just to clear up a loose end, Mr. Bott, how did you intend to hole the boat?”
“I thought of using a boat-hook, but I couldn't be sure of finding one in the boat-house in the dark. The moon was shining, but I couldn't remember if there were any windows. With the door open, I reckoned there'd be just enough light to pick my way to the boat. So I took one of my tent-pegs and the mallet.”
“We didn't find the mallet.”
“No.” Opening his eyes, Bott gave him a sour grin. “I tossed the peg into the bushes in a panic when I thought the DeLanceys were coming out and might catch me. But I had enough sense left to hang on to my one and only mallet.”
“Fair enough.”
“You believe me?” Bott asked incredulously. “About everything?”
“I'm inclined to. It's a pity we have no concrete evidence of Lord DeLancey's involvement. He must have been wearing gloves that night, too.”
“Typical namby-pamby swell.”
“What about his note?” said Daisy. “That would be proof the invitation to meet on Temple Island came from him.”

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