Inspector West Takes Charge (25 page)

‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘Barbitone tablets.’

Roger said: ‘Barbitone?’

‘One of the hypnotic drugs,’ said Tenby.

‘Yes, I know what barbitone is,’ said Roger, with a touch of impatience. ‘Three or four tablets would put a man out, and if you didn’t know what was causing the collapse you’d think he was going to die.’ He stared at Tenby as he went on: ‘Barbitone would have made Claude Prendergast look as ill as he was, and could make him behave as he did.’

‘That’s right,’ said Tenby. ‘It did, too. This was found in his luggage by Lampard. An unmarked bottle, but barbitone all right.’

‘Do you know where he got it from?’

‘I do,’ Lampard said, almost smugly. ‘I do indeed. From the Red Cross room at Harrington’s factory. There is a selection of drugs there, and this has an identifying mark. See?’ He pointed to a red H in a circle. ‘That’s stamped on all the bottles and tins at the factory, in red. You know the truth, West, don’t you?’

Roger felt very wary.

‘No. Do you?’

‘Our man is Harrington,’ Lampard said, making no attempt to hide his satisfaction and his elation. ‘He fits in everywhere - opportunity, motive to get control of
Dreem
and so have all the finance he needed for his synthetic rubber, personal hatred of
Dreem
directors, and access to their association with Potter. Well? Don’t you agree?’

‘Harrington,’
breathed Mark.

‘Harrington,’ echoed Roger. ‘I wonder. Dr Tenby, as this drug was in Claude Prendergast’s things, he could have taken it himself, couldn’t he?’

‘Well, yes, but –’

‘What difference does it make?’ demanded Lampard. ‘He could have been coerced into taking it by his wife, or even given a dose by her on Harrington’s orders. Mrs Prendergast’s demonstration of hostility to Harrington could have been feigned, to give us the impression that she hated him.’

‘Oh, undoubtedly,’ Roger said. ‘Mark, could Claude have taken this stuff when you first went to Delaware a little while before he was taken ill?’

Mark said: ‘Yes, I left him alone once or twice.’

‘Claude,’
breathed Roger.

‘I have a feeling that you are trying to rob me of my thunder,’ said Lampard. ‘If we talk to Harrington –’

‘Dr Tenby knows Claude Prendergast pretty well. When Claude collapsed he looked for evidence of a drug, of course. We now know for certain what it was,’ said Roger. ‘Didn’t we all think he was the last of the Prendergast victims? But if he dosed himself with a drug so as to seem a victim, that could answer most of our questions. I always wanted to know why Claude should take such an interest in
Dreem,
why he rounded on his wife as he did.’

Lampard said slowly: ‘I admit it’s possible.’

‘I’m asking myself what he would have done if he knew what his wife and Potter were planning,’ went on Roger. ‘Obviously he would come out far better if he could direct operations without being suspected. Couldn’t he? How often do we suspect a “victim”? I’ve never been able to believe that Potter was acting voluntarily. But Claude Prendergast, having full knowledge of the situation, could easily have given instructions.’ Roger tried not to show his excitement. Potter would have been compelled to act as he did and to make the arrangements, because Claude could incriminate him so easily. Potter needn’t have known who was exerting the influence.’ Roger gave a chuckle, remarkably like one of Chatworth’s.

Lampard said: ‘Claude Prendergast fits in better than Harrington, but how did Claude get this poison?’

‘If Anderson were alive we could ask him,’ said Roger dryly. ‘It looks as if Claude learned of the plot against Harrington and used that to make Potter get rid of the Prendergasts. Think of his position if he then planned to be rid also of the other directors and remain in sole control of
Dreem.’

‘Shall we go and see him?’ Lampard asked. ‘I confess I would rather you were right.’

He drove them all to Delaware. Roger and Mark sat in the tonneau in silence. Tenby and Lampard talked animatedly about Prendergast. Neither of them had liked Claude, and both believed he was much more astute than he had made out.

As they were climbing from the car, Lampard asked: ‘Do you think getting control of
Dreem
and Harringtons was the main motive?’

Roger closed the door with a bang.

‘I doubt it,’ he said. ‘I think the prior motive, the cause for all of this, was in Claude Prendergast’s hatred for his family, which disliked his ways and his habits. He was virtually thrown out with a small allowance and it rankled. From the time of Septimus Prendergast’s death, Claude’s been a possibility, but until I knew he could have drugged himself –’

He didn’t finish.

Claude was in his room, in a gaudy dressing-gown. He was pale, and his saucer-like eyes were very wide open yet tired. His hair was plastered over his bumpy head, and in his manner was a hint of the nervousness which he often showed vividly.

‘Hallo, hallo,’ he said with forced geniality. ‘Hope you gentlemen have come with the news that it’s all over. My God, I don’t feel safe even now. Eh?’

This was Lampard’s moment. Roger watched him, while Mark straddled a chair and Tenby stood by the door.

‘Yes, it’s all over,’ said Lampard. ‘Mr Prendergast, as you know, your wife is under arrest and in hospital.’

‘I just can’t believe Maisie’d do anything so wicked,’ said Claude. ‘I knew she was a bit of a spitfire, but do you think she tried to put
me
away?’

‘No, I don’t,’ said Lampard. ‘But she has told a peculiar story, Mr Prendergast, Do you remember reporting to Inspector West that she often talked in her sleep?’

Claude said: ‘What about it?’

Lampard smiled. ‘So do you,’ he said.

After a few seconds, when the shock struck, Claude wilted. He began to quiver. Any doubts in Roger’s mind were swept aside at his change of expression, and the positive malignance in his eyes.

‘The bitch!’ he cried. ‘She’s been lying to you! What’s she been saying?’

‘Amongst other things, we want to know why you drugged yourself with this,’ said Lampard. Dr Tenby produced the bottle like a rabbit out of a hat. ‘Why did you?’

‘It’s a damnable lie! My wife’s trying to drag me down with her. She –’

‘Supposing you keep your opinion of your wife to yourself?’ Lampard said coldly. ‘Mr Lessing, you remember seeing Prendergast take the tablets? Out of that bottle?’ He pointed to Tenby and stepped between Claude and Mark, so that the former could not see Mark’s temporary expression of surprise.

Mark had some of his composure back.

‘I did.’

‘If a man wants to drug himself to get some sleep’ began Claude. Then he stopped short as if realizing that any kind of admission might be damning. He drew back, his lips working.

‘Claude Prendergast, I am charging you with being concerned with the murders of your grandfather, your father, and your brother,’ Lampard said. ‘Anything you say may be taken in evidence against you.’ He took a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, and took a step forward.

‘No!’ shrieked Claude. ‘You can’t know that. You can’t
do
that! They died by accident. Anyhow, Potter did it, Potter arranged it all.’

‘You will have a chance to prove that in court,’ Lampard said.

Claude turned and ran towards the window. Roger and Mark were there ahead of him, holding his writhing figure while he mouthed and shouted and blasphemed; and damned himself.

‘If Potter were handling this case,’ Roger said a little later, ‘he’d get away with an insanity plea. We couldn’t have made a thorough job of Prendergast if you hadn’t handled Potter, Mark.’

Lampard chuckled.

‘Congratulations, Mr Lessing,’ he said.

‘I’ll buy you both a dinner when we’ve got this case over,’ Roger said. ‘Meanwhile I’m going to report to the AC.’

A large tabby cat strolled thoughtfully into the lounge of the Wests’ Bell Street house. It peered at Janet and Roger, and Mark, and then at the fireplace. There was no fire, for it was in the middle of a heat wave which made the Assize Court hot and stuffy for the five days of Claude’s and Potter’s trial. The cat jumped out of the window at a single bound. They watched it strolling into the street, disdainful of passers by.

Roger rubbed his chin.

‘When I first fell over Lamp, I cursed him,’ he said. ‘Bless his heart, if he only knew what he had started. Well, it’s all over at last. All the convictions we wanted. Harrington gave his evidence well this afternoon,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘He tells me he’s buying up
Dreem
shares as fast as they come on the market. He’ll be one of our industrial giants of the future.’ He looked at the window as the cat jumped into the room again, and chuckled. ‘Hallo, Lamp,’ he said. ‘Aren’t they any more sociable out of doors?’

‘Why the Lamp?’ asked Mark. ‘I haven’t heard this one. The cat that lighted the way, I suppose?’

‘Certainly not,’ said Roger. ‘The name’s short for Lampard, who turned out to be much nicer than he seemed at first.’ He watched the tabby jump on to Janet’s knee. Janet buried her fingers in his fur.

Mark coughed.

‘This is no place for me,’ he said. He crossed to the piano, his fingers beginning to caress the keys. He was playing a haunting thing from Brahms when two people entered the garden a man and a woman.

Janet jumped up. ‘Good gracious, the Harringtons! Open the door, darling, and give me a chance to tidy my hair.’ She put her fingers to her hair to straighten it, tucking and coiling.

Garielle and Harrington came in.

‘We simply want to give these to Mark,’ said Harrington, and handed Mark a neatly-wrapped package.

‘We’ve decided to open Delaware again,’ declared Garielle. ‘Mrs West, you will come for a long weekend as soon as the Yard lets your husband off, won’t you?’

‘We’d love to,’ said Janet.

‘Love to,’ echoed Roger.

‘Me too?’ asked Mark, cutting the string, and then opening the cardboard box inside the paper. There was a packing of straw, and his fingers explored until he drew out one of the le Fleur masks from Harrington’s flat, then a second, then a third.

‘Just in case you decide to go back to collecting china,’ said Harrington. ‘By the way, give me Pep Morgan’s address, will you? The man with the big nose, I mean. I can’t risk offering you people a wad of
Dreem
shares, but Morgan deserves to be in on the ground floor. Garry, we’ll have to fly or we’ll miss that train.’

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