The Affair of the Thirty-Nine Cufflinks (18 page)

'Who would
you
see next?'

She thought. 'Tommy, I think - see if he confirms her story.'

'Then Mr Lambert it'll be.'

'OK.' This time she finally disappeared, closing the door.

Leather had put down his pencil with relief.

'Blimey, what a load of double-Dutch! I couldn't make any sense of it when she started, could you?'

'Not a lot, but we got there at the end.'

'But wouldn't it have been quicker just to say you didn't know what she was talking about and ask her to spell it all out in words of one syllable? Instead of going all round the houses, trying to find out who Marion was without actually asking her, for instance.'

'Oo, you don't ever want to let them know there are things you don't understand, Jack, unless it absolutely can't be helped. Things you don't
know
, yes, but you've got to let them see you take in everything they tell you right away. Besides, I'm a detective. I'm supposed to deduce things. Anyway, we're not in any hurry. This is a very nice place to conduct an investigation. And with luck they'll give us a very nice lunch.'

Leather was flexing his fingers. 'I'll be getting writer's cramp if they all go on at that rate.'

'Get it all?'

'No. Not all the psychic claptrap, but enough, I think.'

'You don't believe in poltergeists, then, Jack?'

'No fear. You don't, surely?' He took out a penknife and started sharpening his pencil.

'Dunno. Some pretty astute people have vouched for 'em. I've read some very weird accounts. And if it wasn't a poltergeist, how do you account for the armour toppling over like it did?'

'Could have been badly positioned on its plinth. Someone might have touched it yesterday afternoon, pushed it another half inch, so it was just on the verge of falling. Could have happened the first time anybody came in, opened and closed the door, caused a draught. Something like that.'

'Mm. Maybe. Can't see it's got any connection with the murder, either way.'

There came a cheerful-sounding, rhythmic tap-a-tap-tap on the door.

'Come in.'

It opened and Tommy entered. 'What-ho. Wanted to see me?'

'Yes, come in, Mr Lambert.'

With a not very successful attempt at nonchalance, Tommy strolled over to the table, sat down and leaned back. 'Mind if I smoke?'

'Not at all, sir.'

He took out a pack of Gold Flake, extracted and lit one. 'Oh, sorry, have one?'

'No thank you, sir.'

Tommy proffered the pack to Leather, who shook his head.

'So I'm in for the jolly old third degree, am I?'

'Hardly that, sir. Just a few questions.'

'Fire away.'

'Let's get a secondary matter out of the way before we start discussing the actual murder. We've been talking to Miss Mackenzie and we seem to have an eye-witness account of the armour falling over. I understand she told you about it.'

'Yes. Quite spooky, eh?'

'Keen on psychic research, are you, Mr Lambert?'

'What? No, not really. Just showed a friendly interest, you know.'

'So much so that she told you about her plans beforehand, even invited you to join her.'

'That's right. Not really my cup of tea, though.'

'So you were in bed when the crash occurred, were you?'

'Actually, not exactly, no.'

'Not exactly? Oh, you mean you were half in and half out, or sitting on the edge, prior to getting in?'

'No. Actually, when I say not exactly, I actually mean not at all, if you see what I mean.'

'Not really, sir, you'll have to bear with me. So, where were you - er, actually?'

'I was in the art gallery, act— as a matter of fact.'

'What, at the same time as Miss Mackenzie?'

'That's right.'

'But she said she was on her own, that she'd asked you to take part but you'd refused.'

'She didn't know I was there. I was sort of hiding.'

'Sort of hiding where?'

'The far side of that sofa, to the left of the armour.'

Leather looked up, an expression of deep satisfaction on his face, then quickly returned to his notebook.

And she didn't see you?' Wilkins said incredulously. 'I wouldn't have thought that sofa would have been big enough to conceal you, you being so tall.'

'Well, I had to curl up into a pretty tight ball and keep absolutely still. I dare say if she'd looked straight in my direction she might have spotted me, and obviously she would have if she'd turned to the left when she came in. But she'd told me earlier about something she called a cold spot towards the other end and that was where she was going to set up the thingamy board. So I thought there was a fair chance she wouldn't see me.'

'But what was the point?'

Tommy's embarrassment was becoming visibly more acute by the second. He took a nervous pull on the cigarette. 'Look, this is bally awkward. I know it sounds awful, but the whole thing was a practical joke. On her, Miss Mackenzie. The truth is that I - I was responsible for the crash. I made the armour topple over.'

'Is that so? I think you'd better tell us the whole story, Mr Lambert.'

'OK. Well, as I say, as soon as Mackenzie told me about her plan, I thought it would be a lark to give her a bit of a shock. I'd had a look in the gallery in the afternoon and I'd seen the armour and noticed the sofa and it occurred to me that if the armour came crashing down just when she was in the middle of her spook-hunt it might really give her something to think about, don't you know. Now I know it sounds dashed unkind, might have given her a heart attack, or anything, and I feel pretty ashamed of myself now. Anyway, what happened was that after I'd gone to my room at about twenty past eleven or so, I undressed, put on my pyjamas and dressing gown, and had a read and a smoke for half an hour or so. Then at about quarter to twelve, I got a length of string, went to the gallery and tied one end of it round the armour. I played the string out until it reached the far end of the sofa. Then I went back to the door, turned the lights out, made my way over to the sofa again, with the help of my lighter, and crouched down beside it. Then I just waited. After about quarter of an hour or so, Mackenzie came in, messed around for a bit and then started her "Is there anybody there?" rigmarole. I thought that would be a good time to give her an answer, so I just gave the string a tug - and the armour went crashing down. It made an enormous noise, even made me jump. I heard Mackenzie give a shriek and go scuttling out. I waited just long enough to grab up the string and then hared it back to my room. That's about it, really. Sorry and all that.'

Wilkins eyed him. 'You must have realised you were going to wake up the household.'

'Not really. First of all, I didn't realise quite what a big bang it was going to make. But the floor's very hard, and that gallery's a big place with nothing much in it, so there's a sort of echo. What's more, I knew how thick the walls and doors are here, but I didn't see the open fanlight over the door, which let the sound carry much farther. Oh, I thought it'd probably wake up Gregory the Great, who's got the room between Mackenzie and me, but that didn't bother me too much.'

'Did you hear Miss Simmons shouting as you ran back to your room?'

'Yes - at least, I thought it was her - and I wondered what was up.'

'It didn't occur to you to investigate?'

'For a second, yes. But she didn't sound frightened, just jolly ratty, as though she was having a big row. I had a girlfriend once, who used to go on at me just like that sometimes. So I thought better to leave well alone. Anyway, I stayed just inside the door of my room, keeping it open a crack, and very soon after that I heard voices and general commotion, so I joined the throng outside Clara's room and found out she'd been croaked. Jolly upsetting.'

He stubbed out his cigarette.

'Why didn't you tell us all this before, sir?'

'Well, it's pretty shaming. I was hoping it wouldn't need to come out at all. After all, it's got nothing to do with the murder. I did tell you as soon as you asked.'

'Yes, and I want to thank you for being so frank with us now, Mr Lambert. And talking of the murder, how well did you know the deceased?'

'Not at all. Yesterday was the first time we'd met. And we didn't exchange more than a dozen words.'

'Yet yesterday at the reading, she said that she knew things about everybody there that would make their reputations mud, if they came out. She withdrew it later as regards the Earl and Countess and Lady Geraldine, but specifically refused to do so for the guests. So what do you reckon she knew about you?'

'Nothing, I'm sure.'

'Got a clear conscience, have you, Mr Lambert?'

'Well, not exactly. I mean there are things I wouldn't want shouted from the rooftops, obviously. But nothing that would make my reputation mud. Certainly nothing it'd be worth committing a murder to keep dark. I haven't got a criminal record, or anything.'

'Three speeding tickets in the last five years. And fined two pounds for being drunk and disorderly in the West End on New Year's Eve.'

'Ah. Yes, of course. You looked me up. But that is all, honestly. And they'd hardly make my reputation mud, or be worth Clara's while to spread around.'

'So you think she was bluffing?'

'Must have been, in my case.'

'Did you see her yesterday, after the scene in the library?'

'No, not for a second.'

'Did you hear or see anything in any way suspicious or odd?'

'Not a thing. And I've really been racking my brains - what there are of them.'

'Ever heard of a Miss Dora Lethbridge?'

Tommy shook his head.

'Well, I don't think we need keep you any longer, for now, Mr Lambert.' Wilkins repeated what he had said to Miss Mackenzie about a statement and fingerprints.

'Yes, of course. Only too glad to help in any way possible. And, by the way, does Mackenzie have to know - about what I did, I mean? Can you just let her go on thinking it was a poltergeist?'

'We'll see, Mr Lambert. I won't reveal it unless it becomes necessary.'

'Thanks.'

'Perhaps you'd kindly ask Miss Simmons to step in next.'

'Righty-ho.'

Chapter Twenty-Four

Stella was the first person to enter the room with an air of complete confidence. She sat down, folded her hands on the table and smiled at Wilkins enquiringly.

'Miss Simmons, I'd like to talk first about this intruder in your room last night. You can give no description of any kind?'

She shook her head. 'I was half asleep. It was almost totally dark. I was just aware of a presence, a kind of even blacker patch against the surrounding blackness, by the dresser. I think he'd most likely been using a flashlight or a match to see. I got the impression of a light going out just a split second after I opened my eyes. He probably put it out when he heard the crash, realising I might wake up.'

'I see. When you awoke, he, or she, was by the dressing- table—'

Stella interrupted. 'She? You think it could have been a woman?'

'Can you be sure it wasn't?'

She looked thoughtful. 'No, I suppose not. I assumed it was a man. But if it was a woman, who could it have been? Let's see, Gerry and Dorry were downstairs, Miss Mackenzie was in the picture gallery - oh, she's told us all about it now - and Clara was dead. That only leaves the Countess, which is surely absurd, and—' She broke off.

'And Miss Penelope Saunders. You did say the intruder had vanished by the time you got to the door. Miss Saunders' room was right across the corridor from yours. And according to Lord Burford's account, you told everybody that she appeared almost immediately after you looked out.'

'But that's screwy. Why on earth should Penny have been poking about in my room?'

'Why should anybody have been poking about in your room? Do we have to suppose they meant you harm of some kind?'

'You're not saying he was going to kill
me
, too?' She sounded incredulous.

'So you think your intruder was the person who killed Mrs Saunders?'

'Search me. But if not, it means that two people were up to no good last night.'

'For Alderley, that's nothing, I can assure you, miss. But when I wondered whether the intruder meant to harm you, I was thinking of something not quite so drastic.'

'You mean one of the guys was after my virtue? Come off

it!'

'Is it beyond the bounds of possibility?'

'I'd say yes. And I speak as someone not without experience. Tommy would be far too scared. I'd bet my bottom dollar that Timothy'd be absolutely horrified at the very idea. Gregory'd probably try it on if the time and place, and the woman, were right. He's quite a masher. But he's an MP, for Pete's sake! - and holding on by the skin of his teeth. He'd never risk the scandal. He'd be finished if it got out.'

'He might have thought there was no likelihood of a scandal: that you'd welcome it.'

For the first time, she looked doubtful. 'Well, I guess I did flirt with him a mite. But only for my own ends, though keep that under your hat.'

'He couldn't have known your real reason.'

'Well, if that
was
his motive, why would he have been messing around by the dresser?' She shook her head decisively. 'No, I'm sure that's not it. Think again, Mr Wilkins.'

'Well, you're the expert, Miss Simmons. So we're no nearer an explanation. You said there was nothing worth stealing there, and nothing
was
stolen.'

'Oh, but there was.'

'Eh?' For the first time, Wilkins looked surprised. 'But you said last night—'

'I know. I only discovered it this morning. I didn't have a chance to tell you before.'

'So what was it?'

'A tube of toothpaste,' Stella said.

'A tube of toothpaste?' Wilkins looked totally bemused.

'Yes, and I can give you a description. About six inches long by an inch wide. White, with blue lettering. Answers to the rather unfortunate name of Dentigleam. Value, hard to assess, as about half the paste had been used but, at an estimate, perhaps sixpence. I haven't decided yet whether to put in an insurance claim.'