Gently French (17 page)

‘Bilney was there. He was no mirage.’

‘So. I am not responsible for that.’

‘You spoke to him. Directed him to Freddy’s hideaway. He could have learned of that only from you.’

‘You are forgetting Wickey. Wickey would know of it.’

‘Perhaps. But Bilney learned of it from you. His first move was to book at the Three Tuns. He didn’t change quarters till he had talked to you.’

‘I do not admit that.’

‘Then tell me something else. What was Bilney’s purpose in hanging around here? Sitting every day in Freddy’s chalet, smoking, waiting for the phone to ring?’

She gestured peevishly. ‘Why should I know this?’

‘Because yesterday the phone rang, and the caller was you. You told Bilney to drive to the lane leading to the Broad, and you met him there and spent two or three hours with him.’

‘I did all that?’

‘You sat in the car with him. The car was pulled off into the trees. You had a picnic of sorts, fruit, chocolate – I can be more precise after the post- mortem. Because then Bilney died: straight after that. He went back to the chalet and met his killer. As though the real purpose of getting him away from the chalet had been to give the killer an opportunity for ambush.’

‘And you are accusing me?’

‘The killer knew where to go. He knew that Bilney would be absent. Two things that you knew and nobody else knew – just as there were two things that you knew about Freddy.’

She flicked ash on the floor. ‘Poor Mimi. This is quite a formidable indictment.’

‘I think you had better help us.’

‘That was always inevitable. You are a man of such persuasion, my friend.’

She wanted a drink, but I wouldn’t permit it; she sat awhile with a sulky expression. Though I had drawn the curtains of the door and counter windows, we could hear chattering people passing along to the dining-room. The sound accentuated the arrest of time which is the peculiar quality of interrogation. My refusing the drink had been a symbol. Now we were remote from the world of innocence.

At last she folded her legs with a sigh.

‘Monsieur’s psychology is impeccable. I am a creature exposed to perpetual temptation. How sad if I spent my time rejecting it.’

‘Bilney was your lover?’

She made a faint mouth. ‘I would rather not award him that title. He was – what shall we say? – a taste for garlic. He served as a purge for the coarser emotions.’

‘How long was he put to these medicinal uses?’

‘Oh, he has been around since Easter. I met him as I told you, in the Hammersmith Feathers. Next day he rang me. It developed from there.’

‘Did you go to his flat?’

She hesitated. ‘No. There is a discreet hotel in Kensington. Not that we used it very often. One takes purges only occasionally.’

‘He was keen?’

‘Naturally.’

‘Wanted more than you would give him?’

‘Yes. It is the character of the type. Because of that we had a disagreement, which is why he followed me up here.’

‘What was he trying for?’

Her hand lifted. ‘Some more artichokes on the same basis He was stupid, but not so stupid as to suppose I would leave Freddy. Of course, I wouldn’t let him stay in Haughton, but I was tickled to think he had come after me. So I told him he would have to lie low in the chalet, and perhaps I would ring him, perhaps I wouldn’t.’

‘And he settled for that?’

‘He was sure I would ring him. And he may not have been entirely wrong. It was dull here; Freddy was boring. I think Bilney may have gone to bat.’

I nodded. It was fitting pretty well; I could believe in Bilney playing along. He had tasted the honey and it was some honey: worth a little patience for another dip.

But that had been Thursday.

‘How often did you ring him?’

‘I gave him a call every day. It was amusing, like teasing a pet. He tried lots of tricks to make me say yes.’

‘When on Friday?’

‘You know when. My famous call to the theatre.’

‘After Rampant’s call.’

‘I do not deny it. But I said nothing of that matter to Bilney.’

She faced me with frank eyes; it was either true or cleverly untrue. By freely conceding a critical point she was leaving me no room for manoeuvre. And alas, she was skilful enough to have done that. I could read nothing from her eyes. A frank look is a frank look, besides being the hallmark of accomplished liars.

‘Wouldn’t Freddy’s absence have given you a chance to meet Bilney?’

‘Ha-ha, do you think I lacked chances? I was not married to Freddy, you know. I do not recognize a monopoly.’

‘Still, you would have looked for a discreet occasion?’

‘Any day I could take a launch down the river. No, no, I wasn’t giving it to Bilney so easily. A little waiting would improve his manners, ha?’

‘But you did know Freddy would be out when you rang him.’

‘I have told you, yes. I knew when and where. But I did not tell Bilney. It was not his business. It would have encouraged him to come here, and I didn’t want that.’

Another frank stare, with a flash of indignation.

‘Very well then. You rang, but you didn’t tell him. The next day you learned what had happened to Freddy. Wasn’t it risky to let Bilney hang around after that?’

She threw up her hands. ‘Are you telling me! It was more than risky, it was suicidal. With the police running about spending the tax-payers’ money and looking for just such a boy as little Bilney. But he wouldn’t go. He thought now was his chance. No longer did Mimi have to hoodwink her Freddy. He was more than stupid, he was mad. I do not wonder he finished up like this.’

‘Did you see him?’

‘No! Do you think I am mad too? I could scarcely push past the police to the telephone. It was not till yesterday that they went away, that I could arrange to give Bilney a lecture.’

‘That was your object yesterday?’

‘What else?’

‘You seem to have spent several hours with Bilney.’

‘Because he is an imbecile! It was like drilling concrete. Surely you have met these cretins before?’

‘So the picnic was fortuitous.’

‘It was food that he brought. He has not been living on fresh air. And I got hungry talking to the ape. I didn’t expect it would take me so long.’

‘And what was the result?’

‘Not any result. He would not promise to go away.’

‘But after so much oratory? Three hours?’

‘Pyuh!’ It was a noise like a cat’s.

I let my eyes drift, then snapped them back suddenly.

‘Tell me, Mimi. Who killed Bilney?’

Her eyes were steady. ‘Someone with a knife.’

‘His name.’

Her eyes mocked me. ‘Why should I tell you?’

I got up and walked over to the window. The Bugatti was sitting proudly where I had parked it. Across the way lurked the tradesman’s van and the shadowy faces of the two D.C.’s. Some traffic was crawling across the junction, but the road in front of me was empty; sunlight was slanting on the bank opposite and lighting the windows of a flat built above it. I watched it as I talked.

‘Listen carefully. You’ve told me too much and too little. You have admitted sending Bilney to the chalet and calling him out to a meeting yesterday. We are back where we began. You knew he was there. You knew he would be absent for several hours. They are two things which only you knew. You must also know who killed Bilney.’

She gave a little low chuckle. ‘A logical Englishman. And I thought you trusted only the intuition.’

I turned from the window. ‘I need a logical answer. Or you may be spending tonight in a cell.’

‘Aha, a threat.’ She leaned back in her chair and hooked her thumbs in the sleeveless top. ‘Yet the cells are no strange thing to me, my friend. And I am told they are better furnished over here.’ She lowered her lids with their perfect lashes. ‘So then. Let us ventilate your logic. Would it be surprising if the man who killed Freddy was also the man who killed Bilney?’

I said nothing. She nodded emphatically.

‘Oh yes. Oh yes. The same man. You show me the photograph. It is done with a knife. Unhappily, I know about these things. So, one man. He has killed Freddy. He is perhaps not a stranger in this district. He doesn’t go away. He is here, watching. He has seen Bilney. He has tracked him home. Then, where is the difficulty? He wishes to kill Bilney, decides he will lay for him in the chalet. Now he watches till Bilney goes away, which by chance is to meet me.’ She held out her hand. ‘Is this impossible? Does it not fit the facts as well? Would a jury prefer your version to mine? And so bang goes your logic.’

‘Not quite,’ I said. ‘There is a matter of motive.’

‘Oh, motive! That is for counsels.’

‘In this case a motive of massive gain. Freddy had more to leave than the Bugatti.’

Her eyes widened. ‘You have seen the will?’

I nodded. ‘And so, I suspect, have you.’

‘You are wrong, my friend.’

‘It amounts to the same thing. Freddy’s whole estate is willed to you.’

‘This is true?’

‘Yes.’

She looked away. There was a sparkle between her lashes. ‘But how sad. I didn’t need it, and he was just going to enjoy his life.’

I watched her hungrily. They were real tears; if it was an act it had the stamp of sincerity. I didn’t think it was an act. She wasn’t giving it enough emphasis. From where he was sitting, Dutt probably couldn’t see it.

‘All the same, it leaves you the gainer.’

She twisted her mouth. ‘Does that make me guilty?’

‘It will weigh with juries.’

‘We have not come to juries. We have not come to anything but so-called logic.’

‘Then we will follow that. How long have you known Bavents?’

She was silent for a moment, still looking away from me.

‘What makes you ask that?’

‘A piece of information. Bavents’ father keeps a pub in Vought Street, Chelsea.’

‘Aha. The Peacock.’ She gestured wearily. ‘All right. I admit it. I know the yak. But he is not my lover, has not been my lover. Even with me such things are possible.’

‘He was in your room twice today.’

‘So then. I have to talk to someone.’

‘Once for an hour.’

‘It was a longer talk.’

‘And again at tea, on the lawn.’

She tossed her hair irritably. ‘What is all this about? I find the yak an interesting subject. He is full of fire, full of passion. Simply he dare not say boo.’

‘You were merely teasing him?’

‘Not merely, my friend. Teasing a man is a great art. He must always be having a little hope, a belief that his reward will come in the end.’

‘And that was Bavents’ situation?’

‘Every man’s. What do you think a woman is made of?’

‘But Bavents is infatuated.’

She kissed a finger. ‘At his age, surely it does no harm.’

I stared into her eyes. ‘Only that is what I’m wondering. Whether it couldn’t do him a great deal of harm. Whether it couldn’t lead him into some fantasy world where right and wrong are not clearly defined.’

She pouted. ‘You are not serious?’

‘Very serious. His record doesn’t suggest a stable character.’

‘But Monsieur, I have just amused myself.’

‘No more than that?’

She wriggled and tossed her hair again.

‘What were you wanting him to do today?’

She checked fractionally. ‘Who says I did?’

‘You had long talks with him. He was reluctant. You were perhaps pushing him too far.’

‘Huh.’ She made a sweep with her hand. ‘Now it is you who are fantastical, Monsieur. He is a moody yak, that is all. I think you had better stick to logic.’

‘Is that all you are telling me?’

‘Isn’t it enough?’

I came off the desk suddenly and stepped to the door. I threw it open and stood beside it. She watched me with an expression of mocking surprise.

‘It is time to go?’

I held the door and said nothing. She rose disdainfully and marched from the office. I slammed down in the swivel-chair and lit my pipe. I jerked a hand to Dutt.

‘Fetch Bavents.’

T
HERE WAS A
delay, probably occasioned by Frayling’s reluctance to lose Bavents during dinner; then he arrived, hot-faced and nervous, with Dutt nudging him from behind. I pointed to a chair. Bavents sat or sprawled; his blushing hands clutched his knees. He was either sweatily, meltingly innocent, or aware that a point of no return was fast being reached. I tried to fix his staring eye.

‘Madame Deslauriers has just been helping us. She says she was acquainted with you in Chelsea and she admits to several recent conversations. Now I am going to ask you a frank question, and I would like you carefully to consider your reply.

His eyes rolled; his body was trembling.

‘Did you kill Frederick Quarles and Thomas Bilney?’

His mouth worked and he made a gulping sound; the flush ebbed suddenly from his cheeks.

‘Did you?’

‘N-n-no! I didn’t!’

‘It would be best to get it over now.’

‘P-please, no!’

‘It will save you some distress.’

‘B-but I didn’t. I didn’t!’

‘Think carefully.’

‘No!’

I checked. He was swaying dangerously, teetering on the rim of a faint. Push him some more, and he would go over; he wasn’t ready to confess yet. I swung in the swivel-chair.

‘Very well then. Perhaps you can help us in other ways. We know now you took a message from Bilney to Madame Deslauriers. Were you in the yard when she came out?’

‘I was w-working on my car—’

‘And you returned to it after you had taken in the message?’

‘Well, y-yes. But I didn’t hear anything. They went over behind the garages.’

‘You saw them meet?’

‘Yes.’

‘Would you say they seemed fond of each other?’

The flush began again. ‘He kissed her. She was worrying about him being seen.’

‘But she was fond of him too?’

‘Well, I’d s-say so.’

‘In fact, they met like two lovers?’

Bavents chewed his lip. ‘Yes, I suppose so. But she w-wasn’t so keen on him as he was on her.’

‘How long were they talking?’

He dragged at his knees. ‘About quarter of an hour, twenty minutes.’