Fatal Venture (32 page)

In connection with this find was the further one of a book of Bristow’s pen-and-ink sketches – not of a very high class perhaps, but showing that he had quite enough skill to carry out the forgery.

The third major discovery could not be placed in the category of proof, but it was so suggestive as not to be far removed from it. In a folder marked “Personal,” locked carefully in the safe, were a lot of figures showing that Bristow had been trying to estimate the relative returns from the cruising and gambling sides of the undertaking. It was interesting to note that he had begun this work – the sheets were methodically headed, numbered and dated – just one week after he had written to Stott complaining of his failure to pay the percentages. Doubtless in that week he had had Stott’s reply.

Another important find among Bristow’s papers was a carbon copy of a statement which at first puzzled French, but which, when he had grasped its significance, threw a flood of light on a side of the case which up till then had been completely beyond his grasp.

It was locked away in the same “Personal” division of the safe and was headed “Proposed Hotel at White Rocks.” Obviously it was a summary of the arguments for building such an hotel. There was a sketch map attached, and as French glanced at it and read the paragraph labelled “Site,” he felt he understood how Bristow had managed to lure his victim to his end. The paragraph read: “The hotel should be built on the small plateau immediately at the back of the saucerlike depression named ‘McArtt’s Hollow,’ as this ground is of a suitable size and commands admirable views of the sea and coast. The Hollow itself, protected from the winds by its lip, would make a charming and sheltered garden or small park.” A further paragraph near the end of the statement was also significant: “This matter should be treated as absolutely confidential. If you are even seen approaching the place, two and two will be put together and the price of the land will soar.” Well done, Bristow, thought French. With all this ingenuity, you ought to have succeeded. He could imagine the man saying: “It’s a marvellous place, Mr Stott, and there’s a fortune in it. Don’t take my word for it, but come and see it for yourself.” And Bristow might well have gone on: “The first idea I put up to you has brought you in money and this one will too,” until Stott agreed to meet him there at 4.30 on that fatal day.

Why, French wondered, had the man not destroyed so compromising a document? He puzzled over this for a while, then presently saw the reason. Bristow must have something to account for his own presence at the Hollow, should he unluckily be seen there, and it would be less dangerous to show the document than to be unable to offer an explanation. Such were the main items of the case which French, in association with Nugent, later handed to the Public Prosecutor of Northern Ireland. In his able hands they proved sufficient, and at the next assizes Bristow was found guilty and sentenced to death. A point which told heavily against him – though incidentally inducing some sympathy with him – was the establishment of the motive. Meaker gave evidence that John Stott had consulted him on the question of whether he could avoid paying Bristow any part of the profits, on the ground that cruising without gambling was a dud scheme. He had had to advise that this would be legal and Stott had decided not to pay.

When Bristow learnt that there was no chance of a reprieve, he made a statement which showed that French’s theories were substantially correct. One point which French had been unable to explain was that he had made a sandbag and carried it folded in his pocket from the ship. On his way to the Hollow he had filled it with sand, emptied it after the murder, taken it back to the ship and that night thrown it overboard.

For Bristow the arrival of Malthus and Mason had been a splendid accident, and he had at once decided to make his attempt while they were on board. He did not go so far as to try to prevent them having an alibi, but he thought their presence would at least cloud the issue, while investigation into their movements would give time for the scent to cool.

Incidentally, he would have preferred to murder Stott on board and throw his body into the sea, but he realised that, owing to the legacy, the body must be found.

Bristow also explained that when he had first visited Portrush it was a showery day, and he had taken two sets of photographs, one while the sun was shining and one while it was cloudy, so as to be able to use whichever would suit the weather on the second visit.

French had every reason to be satisfied with his part in the affair, but he was still profoundly conscious of his failure in his original job: somehow to get the gambling stopped. Then suddenly it occurred to him that it was just possible that he was in a position to accomplish this also.

While going through Bristow’s papers he had come on another file labelled “Casualties.” It was not connected with the murder, and at first he had not imagined it could be of any value to him. It contained some rather dreadful reading. “Casualties” were people who had come to grief through the gambling. In the seventeen months during which the ship had been running, there had been nine cases of more or less complete ruin. Three men and one woman had committed suicide, three had gone abroad and disappeared, and two had been reduced to beggary at home; besides which there were many letters telling of serious loss, and either begging for help or protesting that the rooms should be closed. Now, it occurred to French that an experiment might be worth trying.

He invited Wyndham Stott to his cabin, handed him the file and asked him to read the contents. “That’s what these rooms are doing, Major Stott,” he said quietly, “and they’re yours now.”

Wyndham Stott had been a different man since Margot had asked Morrison’s help to get him from the tables. He had never again taken too much drink, and had practically given up gambling. Apart from these small failings, he had always been decent and kindly, and it was on his better nature that French had decided to play.

Here again, perhaps slightly to his surprise, he was successful. Wyndham read the documents with a deepening frown, and at last exploded.

“Damn it all, French! This is a hellish business! I had no idea of this side of it. I’m not going to be responsible for this kind of thing. I’ll shut it down.”

So, strongly backed by Margot, eventually he did. Quietly he approached the firm of shipbreakers who had originally wanted the
Hellénique
, and the first thing the public heard was that she had already been sold for breaking up, and that her cruising would be discontinued as soon as existing bookings had been worked off.

A couple of months later French and his wife received an invitation to the wedding of Margot and Harry Morrison – one of the few occasions on which French had become a real friend of former suspects.

“The murder case was a legitimate win, French,” Sir Mortimer Ellison said in closing the affair, “but getting the gambling stopped – don’t talk to me of flukes! However, we’ll keep that dark. The PM will never know we’re not as brainy as we seem.”

French glanced at him. The twinkle was in his eye. It was all right. French smiled happily.