Gunpowder Plot (14 page)

“You can’t stay there, old chap!” Wookleigh parked neatly beside the doctor’s car. As the lawyer’s small car pulled up beyond him, he strode over to the Lanchester and opened the rear door for Daisy.

“My dear lady, are you all right?”

“I think so.”

“Take my arm, do. Dryden-Jones, you’ll have to move. The van can’t get out.”

Dryden-Jones still hung on to the wheel with a rigid grip. Turning his head cautiously, as if afraid it might fall off, he said with the merest trace of his usual asperity, “I shall go in only for a minute, just to make sure
my
county is providing the Chief Inspector with every facility.”

Wookleigh opened his mouth, but Daisy squeezed his arm and whispered, “If it means he’ll go quickly, leave it. The van driver can always move it if necessary.”

He looked down at her with approval and patted her hand. “Quite right, my dear. He may have to in any case.”

Daisy was too well brought up to omit thanking Dryden-Jones for the lift. She just hoped he didn’t think she was being sarcastic. He avoided meeting her eyes but climbed out of the car on wobbly legs. They all went into the house together.

They found Dr. Prentice and his patient in the entrance hall. The doctor was once again kneeling beside the stretcher, looking very worried. Before Daisy could ask him if Gooch’s condition had deteriorated, Babs came through from the passage. Behind her, a goggle-eyed maid peeked around the door.

Babs was breathing faster than normal, so she could only have arrived a few minutes earlier. After a glance of dismay at the gentlemen with Daisy, she disregarded them. “Dr. Prentice, I was ringing you up when I was told you’d just arrived, with Mr. Gooch.”

“I was on my way here when I came across the accident. I need to get him to bed immediately so that I can make a proper examination.”

“Gwen’s making up the cot in Father’s dressing room for him. I hope that will do. Dilys, show them the way.”

The maid scurried to obey. As the stretcher men picked up their burden once again, Prentice said, “I’ll need hot water bottles, plenty of hot water, bandages, and something suitable for splints.” Without waiting for a response, he followed his patient up the stairs.

“Daisy . . .”

“You go along, Babs,” said Daisy. “I’ll deal with things here. Sir Nigel, Mr. Dryden-Jones, Mr. . . . er-hm won’t you sit down?”

“Lewin,” said the lawyer. “Lewin, Lewin, Pent and Lewin. I really must insist—”

“All in good time, my dear fellow,” said Sir Nigel. “Can’t you see the household is all at sixes and sevens? Mrs. Fletcher, you come and take a seat. You must be in need of rest after your . . . adventures.” He gave the Lord Lieutenant a scathing look.

“Just want a quick word with the Chief Inspector,” said Dryden Jones feebly.

Daisy would have liked nothing better than to sit down, preferably with her legs up, but she said, “I ought to see if I can find Jack Tyndall.”

“I’ll do that,” the Chief Constable offered, “if you’ll point me in the right direction.”

“The last I saw of him, he was on the lowest terrace, dismantling the fireworks apparatus.”

“Not to worry, if he’s there, I’ll fetch him in a trice. I’ll go out through the French doors, that will be quickest.”

As Sir Nigel’s tall, narrow figure disappeared into the drawing room, Alec emerged from the passage, followed by Tom and Piper.

Dryden-Jones darted towards him with a cry, “Chief Inspector, just the man I wanted to see.”

Not to be pipped at the post, the lawyer scurried after him.“Chief Inspector? You are in charge of the case? I am as yet unaware of . . . er . . . precisely what has occurred, but—”

Dryden-Jones raised his voice. “Since Gloucestershire is my county, I—”

“I consider it my duty, much as it goes against the grain—”

“I want to assure you—”

“I feel obliged to inform you,” Lewin persisted, rivalry provoking him into abandoning the discretion demanded of a lawyer, “that Sir Harold disclosed to me last night that he intended to change his Last Will and Testament to disinherit his son.”

15

D
ryden-Jones broke the silence that followed the solicitor’s revelation. Scarlet with embarrassment, he gabbled, “Needn’t tell you, shan’t breathe a word, none of my business. Mum as the grave. Oh dear, not the best way to put it!” He pulled his gold hunter watch from his fob. “Dash it, is that the time? Bit of a rush, don’t you know. Anything my people can do for you, Chief Inspector . . . Know you’ll excuse me, Mrs. Fletcher!”

Routed again, he bowed and fled, to Daisy’s vast relief. “‘ Stand not upon the order of your going,’ ” she muttered to herself, “‘ but go at once.’ And don’t come back.” She doubted he’d know how to start his car, but the van driver could move it when he came down.

Alec looked after him grimly. “Let us hope he really can keep a still tongue in his head. Sir,” he said to Mr. Lewin, “while I appreciate the information, I can’t but feel it would have been preferable to convey it privately. I take it you are Sir Harold’s lawyer?”

Lewin was almost as red in the face as Struwwelpeter had been. “I don’t know what came over me,” he stuttered. “I assure you, Chief Inspector, it is not my practice to . . . er . . . broadcast my clients’ confidential affairs. Lewin’s the name, of Lewin, Lewin, Pent and Lewin. I trust . . . er . . . dare I hope— that you will overlook my disgraceful error of judgement and not mention it to anyone? I feel it very deeply, indeed I do.” He took out a handkerchief, blotted his forehead and polished his glasses.

“You can count on my discretion, Mr. Lewin, and that of my men. And my wife’s.” Alec cast a minatory glance at Daisy, who had installed herself on the sofa by the fire. “The Lord Lieutenant’s I cannot speak for. We shall need to take a statement from you.”

“Oh no!”

“I’m afraid so. Detective Sergeant Tring will accompany you to the billiard room and you can tell him exactly what Sir Harold said to you. Thank you for coming forward, sir. Lawyers are rarely so accommodating to the needs of the police.”

With witnesses to his outburst, Lewin hadn’t a leg to stand on. Looking very hangdog, he followed Tom through the door to the passage.

“That was a nasty dig, darling,” said Daisy as Alec sat down beside her, and Piper opposite. “I suppose he deserved it, but I must say Mr. Dryden-Jones is enough to make anyone forget himself. Thank heaven he’s gone.”

“Yes, but Daisy, what’s this about Gooch? All I know is a maid brought a message from Miss Tyndall saying he’d crashed his car. He was upset when he left us, but I didn’t suppose him incapable of driving or I’d not have let him go!”

“He looked fearfully upset when he passed us— Babs and I were walking along the drive— but he’d have managed if it hadn’t been for the rocket. It shot straight across in front of him. It would have been a miracle if he hadn’t lost control.”

“Did you see who set off the rocket?”

“No, but—”

“We’ll come back to that. Go on.”

“His car went into the ditch and hit the gatepost. He was unconscious and bleeding.” Daisy did her best not to picture the scene. “I don’t know what Babs and I would have done if the mortuary men hadn’t turned out to be St. John’s Ambulance men as well.”

“Where did they take him?”

“Babs said to bring him here. Upstairs, in Sir Harold’s dressing room.”

“Ernie.” Alec jerked his head towards the stairs.

“First floor, third door on the left,” Daisy directed as Piper hurried off. She moved closer to Alec and took his hand. “It was the greatest of luck, darling, not only the ambulance men, but then Dr. Prentice came along and took over.”

“Ah yes, I was expecting him. Good timing.”

“Except that Babs had already left to telephone for him when he arrived. Maybe I should have tried to catch up with her.”

“Certainly not! You didn’t try to help the doctor, did you?”

“He made me sit in his car. And then the others kept turning up, Struwwelpeter, then—”

“Daisy! Struwwelpeter?”

“Don’t you know that illustration of the children’s rhyme? German, I think. The boy with hair like a bush and long, curly fingernails. Not that I’ve noticed anything wrong with the Lord Lieutenant’s fingernails, but perhaps ingrowing hair would explain—”

“Daisy!” Alec reproved her again, but with a grin.

“Sir Nigel called him a stuffed orangutan.” She defended herself.“Or at least, told him not to sit there like a stuffed orangutan. He was just sitting there in his great big car, with all the drama going on, and when Sir Nigel pulled up behind him,
he
hopped out to see if he could help.”

“Wookleigh’s here, too?”

“Yes. He’s gone to look for Jack. And then that little lawyer arrived and started fussing about how he had to get through because it was his duty to tell you— But I never guessed he was going to make quite such a shattering announcement.”

“One of the maids told Tom she overheard Sir Harold threatening to cut young Tyndall out of the will, yesterday afternoon.

She assumed it was just another row. But if Sir Harold actually went so far as to speak to the lawyer, it doesn’t look good for the boy.”

“Oh dear! I suppose you won’t tell me whether Tom found out anything else.”

“If he had, I wouldn’t, but he didn’t. He got the impression the butler was ‘ holding out on him,’ as the Americans say, but the old man is so senile, he may just be imagining he has a secret.” Alec looked up as heavy footsteps came down the stairs.

“The ambulance men,” Daisy told him. “Mortuary men.”

He stood up and went over to them. “In case no one else has got around to it, I want to thank you for your attentions to the accident victim. Did you see the crash?”

“That we did, sir. We wasn’t too far behind the gentleman’s car. A blooming great rocket come out of nowhere. Spitting coloured fire, weren’t it, mate?”

“And making a noise fit to wake the dead. In a manner of speaking. Our van ain’t the quietest and we could hear the bangs. Went right acrost the road in front of the poor gentleman.”

“I don’t say as I wouldn’t’ve druv off the road meself, and I can’t say fairer’n that.”

“Did you see who fired the rocket?”

They looked at each other and both shook their heads regretfully.

“Nah, nor hide nor hair. In among the trees he must’ve bin, wouldn’t you say, mate? Well, sir, we gotta go pick up them corpuses of yourn, afore they gets up and walks away.”

“Great Scott, where are they?”

“Lying alongside of the drive, with t’other gentleman’s shover on guard, and no knowing when he’ll get tired of waiting.”

“Yes, you’d best be off. Thank you.” Alec returned to Daisy. “All right, love, you didn’t see who set off the rocket,
but
. . .”

“Babs may have seen.”

“If she saw her brother, she’ll never tell us.”

“Jack! Why on earth should he fire a rocket at Gooch?”

“That I can’t say,” Alec admitted, “but Gooch knows something he’s not telling.”

“About Jack?”

“It could be. Jack may have heard Sir Harold talking to Lewin about changing his will and realized he was serious. In that case, Jack’s only hope was to kill his father before he did it. He was in a hurry. He couldn’t wait for a chance to catch his father alone. Whatever Mrs. Gooch’s reason for going with Sir Harold to the study, it’s quite likely that her husband kept an eye on her, and in so doing he’d have seen Jack following them.”

“And Jack noticed him watching?” Daisy said sceptically.

“Or he told Jack he’d seen him. There’s still a whiff of blackmail about this whole affair.”

“I can’t believe Jack would shoot Mrs. Gooch, nor that Mr. Gooch would blackmail his wife’s murderer when he could denounce him. But suppose you’re right, I still want to know, why on earth should Jack fire a rocket at Gooch’s car? It’s a very uncertain way to get rid of someone.”

“True. There’s a chance, though, that he’d crash and be killed, and little or no risk in trying.”

“I call it pretty far-fetched. I bet Jack was with Miller the whole time. They were taking apart the firework scaffolding when I left.”

“Would Miller lie for Jack? For his own sake, or Gwen’s?”

“Give him a false alibi? I doubt it. Not when it’s a matter of murder, or attempted murder. In any case, it wasn’t Jack Babs saw, if she saw anyone. She was sure it was Adelaide’s boys.”

“That’s what she claimed?”

“I’d be very surprised if she’s wrong.”

“Because Jack says they stole some rockets.”

“And because when Gwen fetched me from the station, they threw squibs at the car in exactly the same place. Fortunately, Gwen has steady hands.”

“Fortunate indeed! If it can be proved the boys caused Gooch’s accident, they’re in serious trouble.”

“Don’t worry, Babs is going to give them what for, and she seems to be the one person they’re afraid of. They really are the most appalling children. To tell the truth, their mother’s pretty appalling, too.”

“I’m not looking forward to interviewing her.”

“Let Tom do it,” Daisy suggested, tongue in cheek. “She’d be so flabbergasted, she might even stop whining and showing off and give some sensible answers.”

“That’s an idea! Here he comes. All in order, Sergeant?”

“Yes, sir.”

Tom’s calm rumble contrasted with the agitated squeak of the solicitor. “I assure you, Chief Inspector, I have given every assistance I feel able to justify consonant with my duty to my clients.”

“Of course, sir. I take it you’ll be acting for the family should they be in need of legal advice?”

“Oh no, no, no indeed!” Lewin took off his spectacles and polished them vigorously. “That is, you are referring to possible . . . . . . criminal charges? Good gracious, no! Apart from the fact that I could, I fear, be called as a witness, my partners and I feel very strongly that . . . er . . . criminal matters are and should remain outside our province. I shall be happy, of course, to refer . . . er . . . anyone in need of such advice to a firm well versed in such issues. I shall consult my partners as to who might be suitable.”

“I see. As you’re here, no doubt you’ll be informing the Tyndalls of the provisions of the current will.”

“After the funeral is the customary time, though I believe Sir Harold made no secret of his . . . er . . . previous intentions. Oh dear, I suppose in the circumstances . . . ?”

“We’ll let you know when the funeral can be held.”

“Very good, very good. In the . . . er . . . circumstances, I believe I shall not linger to present my condolences. A note to Lady Tyndall will be properer. Be so kind, Chief Inspector, as to express my regret that the family were all otherwise engaged when I called.”

“As you wish. No doubt the Tyndalls will be in touch, as will we if we require any further assistance from you.”

As soon as Lewin was out of earshot, Daisy said, “‘ The first thing we do, let’s kill all the lawyers.’ ”

Tom looked at her with eyebrows raised halfway up the shining dome of his head.

“Sorry, I’m feeling a bit Shakespearean this morning.”

“Shakespeare, eh?” Tom grinned, making his moustache twitch.“Now that’s a good bit. What they made us learn at school was a lot of twaddle about fairies.”

“‘ Hold, enough!’ ” said Alec. “Tom, what did you get out of Lewin?”

“Sir Harold didn’t tell him who was going to be his heir, just drew him aside when he arrived last evening and said he was going to disinherit ‘ that damn disobedient puppy.’ Begging your pardon, Mrs. Fletcher. Mr. Lewin got the impression Sir Harold wasn’t sure who to leave the estate to— it’s not tied up in any way— but he can’t pin down just what was said to give him that impression.”

“Did Sir Harold make a habit of threatening to change his will?”

“No, Chief. The boy was always ‘ the apple of his father’s eye,’ and Mr. Lewin was astonished to hear he’d fallen from grace.”

“But Sir Harold was serious about it?”

“He actually made an appointment to go to the solicitors’ offices this afternoon.”

“Sounds serious enough. Anything else?”

Tom quickly scanned his notes. “That’s about it, Chief. What’s this about Mr. Gooch?”

Alec explained in about a tenth as many words as Daisy had employed to tell the story. While she admired his succinctness, he failed to convey the drama and horror of the event. Of course, he hadn’t experienced it.

“It was beastly,” she said with a shudder. “I don’t know what Babs and I would have done if the men in the van hadn’t turned up, and then the doctor. Although, to be perfectly honest, looking back, it was quite funny the way people kept arriving one after another, if it hadn’t all been so dreadful. I do hope he’ll be all right.”

Alec put his arm around her shoulders, hastily removed it as they heard footsteps on the stairs, then returned it to its comforting place when they saw Ernie Piper coming down.

“How is Mr. Gooch?” Daisy asked eagerly.

“Pretty bad, Mrs. Fletcher. Dr. Prentice says he’s badly concussed and several bones are broken. Well, the bones’ll knit, but there’s no telling what damage there is to his brain. He’s still unconscious. I brought his wallet, Chief, and this.” Piper waved an envelope.

Alec once again removed his arm from Daisy’s shoulders, leaving a chilly spot, as he took the wallet and opened it. “Over a hundred pounds in notes. Book of cheques. And here’s a receipted copy of a letter of credit from a bank in Australia, for a thousand pounds. They weren’t doing themselves too shabbily! We’d better hang on to this for the moment. Here, make a list of the contents, Ernie. What’s that you have there?”

“Addressed to Sir Harold Tyndall, Chief.” Piper handed over the envelope. “Well, no address, just the name. It was in the inside pocket of his jacket.”

“Just to Sir Harold, not Lady Tyndall. So not a bread-and-butter letter written before the event.”

“They might not have realized thanks for hospitality ought to be addressed to the hostess,” Daisy pointed out.

“True. Tom, you have their passport? Let’s have a look at their signatures. . . . Yes, I thought so, it’s her writing.”

“Back to the blackmail theory, Chief?” Tom suggested.

“Perhaps. An undelivered letter from a murdered woman to a murdered man. I suppose I’m justified in reading it.”