The Catherine Wheel (25 page)

Miss Silver stood waiting. The footsteps had gone away out of sound. She had heard them fall heavy on the secret stair and die away. An indeterminate sound came up, quite vague and indistinguishable. And then, what seemed a long time afterwards, there were footsteps again. She stood inside the linen-room. Someone had provided another candle and set it down upon one of the upper shelves. Beneath the bottom shelf the gap yawned wide to the secret stair. Outside in the passage everyone stood and listened, except Castell sitting handcuffed against the wall drawing long sobbing breaths, and his wife who took no notice of him. Or of anyone or anything. Mildred Taverner had stopped crying. She shook and trembled, her hand at her beads, her head poked forward, listening with the rest.

Then up through the gap in the linen-room wall came the voice of John Higgins:

“Can you manage it, Eily?”

It was only Miss Silver who could be sure of the faint murmur of assent. The sound was one of the most welcome she had ever heard.

The next moment Eily was crawling out of the gap and being helped to her feet. John followed her, to say briefly,

“They’ve got him. They’re bringing him up.”

And then he and Eily and Jane went to Eily’s room and shut the door.

There came out next Inspector Crisp, and then Luke White, propelled from behind by Jeremy. Miss Silver stepped into the passage to make way for them. Crisp put a whistle to his mouth and blew. As the sound of heavy feet fell on the stairs, he turned his head to say,

“Keep him beside there till we get the handcuffs on him, Captain Taverner.” Then, to Frank Abbott, “It’s Luke White all right. Higgins and the girl identified him. He can be charged with abduction, and as an accessory to the murder of Albert Miller.”

But behind him Luke White laughed.

“I never laid a finger on Al, and you can’t prove I did! Let them swing for him that did him in! Castell, you fat pig, get up on your feet and tell them I wasn’t anywhere near the place!”

Castell glared at him.

“You are drunk—you are mad! Hold your tongue! What do I know about Al Miller—what does anyone know? It is a conspiracy against me!” He went spluttering and cursing into the Marseilles patois of his youth.

Two police constables came up the stair. Frank Abbott looked across at Miss Silver and found her face intent. She was listening, and in a moment he heard what she was hearing. Someone was coming up the main stairway. In another moment Jacob Taverner was in view. He crossed the landing, walking slowly like a tired man. But when he came to the group in the passage beyond his room he straightened up. His voice was harsh as he said,

“What’s going on?”

From just inside the linen-room Luke White tipped him an impudent nod. There was enough drink in him to give him a kind of swaggering bravado.

“What’s going on? Why me, when I ought to be dead! Shakes you up a bit, doesn’t it? Here today and gone tomorrow and back again before anyone wants you!”

Castell erupted suddenly into English again.

“Why hadn’t you the sense to leave Eily alone? There are ten thousand girls—what does it matter which one you have?”

Jacob Taverner came into the group of people and looked from one to the other—at Castell on the floor jerking at his handcuffed wrists—at Annie Castell, at Mildred and Geoffrey Taverner—at Miss Silver, Frank Abbott, Luke White with Jeremy Taverner gripping his elbows from behind. He saw the open linen-room door, the candle burning on the shelf, the gap in the wall. He said in a curious quiet voice,

“So you’ve found it. That’s what I came down here to look for.” Then, on a rising tone, “Who knew about it? This man of course, and Castell—but they wouldn’t give it away. Who else?” His small bright eyes went from one to the other, came to rest upon Mildred and Geoffrey. “Was it one of you—or perhaps both? Matthew’s grandchildren. He came next to my father, and he was a builder too. I always thought he’d be the most likely to know. Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have seen you didn’t lose by it. Why did you wait until you’d brought the police into it?”

Miss Silver coughed. She looked at Geoffrey and said,

“Yes, why, Mr. Taverner?”

The words were clear and emphatic. If they had been stones thrown in Luke White’s face they could not have had a more startling effect. He gave a kind of shout in which the only word distinguishable was Geoffrey Taverner’s name.

“Him—him!” Now the words came pouring out. “You, Mr. blank Geoffrey Taverner! Give us away, would you—call in the police on us and save your skin? But you’ll not get away with it—not while I’ve a tongue in my head! If anyone’s turning King’s evidence, it’s going to be me, not you, and you can put that in your pipe and smoke it! And if anyone’s going to swing for Al Miller, it’s going to be you, not me—do you hear? I never laid a finger on him, and no one can prove I did!”

Geoffrey Taverner stood his ground with some courage.

“The man’s mad,” he said. “1 don’t know what he’s talking about.”

With a sudden wrench Luke White had twisted free. He came at Geoffrey with a spring and took him by the throat. The two went down together, with Mildred Taverner screaming and the police rushing in.

Pulled off and handcuffed, with Geoffrey getting up greenish pale and holding his throat, Luke White was aware of two voices coming through the buzz of talk about him. Castell was cursing him for a fool, and Mildred Taverner was weeping on a high, shrill note and saying over and over again,

“But it wasn’t Geoffrey who told them—he never told them anything! You didn’t, did you, Geoffrey? It was Miss Silver— Miss Silver—Miss Silver!”

Luke White fell to cursing too.

Much later that evening Frank Abbott came into the lounge and found Miss Silver alone there. Castell and Luke White had been removed under arrest. Geoffrey Taverner had been taken to Ledlington police station for questioning. Mildred had gone to bed with a hot-water bottle, and when last visited had been found to be sleeping. Mrs. Bridling was with Annie Castell, and John Higgins with Eily. Jacob Taverner had made a statement to the police and had retired to his room. Jeremy and Jane were no doubt somewhere together. There were two stalwart police constables on the premises. There really seemed to be no further grounds for anxiety.

Frank took a chair and stretched himself out comfortably.

“Well, I suppose you want to know all about everything?”

Miss Silver coughed.

“Undoubtedly.”

His smile had a spice of malice.

“If there’s anything you don’t already know!”

“My dear Frank!”

She sat there very alert and composed, knitting briskly. Little Josephine’s knickers were approaching completion.

“Well, we’ve done our job all right. The Chief will be pleased, and I shall get some of his best Advice to Rising Police Officers on the Importance of not getting Wind in the Head.”

He received a benignant smile.

“It will not do you any harm.”

He laughed.

“I suppose not. Now, for your information. The stair runs down beside the open one and comes into the shore passage not a dozen feet from the other cellar entrance. It’s all very ingenious. They used a dummy chimney-flue for part of the way, and just before you go through into the shore passage there’s a concealed cellar full of stuff. That’s where Luke White had Eily, and that’s where they stored their contraband. There’s a lot of stuff that looks like heroin and other assorted drugs which have been smuggled in and not distributed. And, all ready to go over, there was as pretty a collection of jewelry as anyone could wish for. They’ve identified the Laleham stuff and the haul from the smash and grab raid in Bond Street, but there’s still a lot to go through. There’s no doubt this has been a main clearing-house, and I don’t mind betting my boots that Geoffrey Taverner was in it up to his neck. A commercial traveller’s job could be a very convenient screen.”

Miss Silver gazed at him enquiringly.

“Geoffrey Taverner was in it?” she said, repeating his words with some additional emphasis.

He nodded.

“You’re too quick. He had cyanide on him—he was dead before we got him to the station.”

Miss Silver sighed.

“It will be a terrible shock to his sister.”

“Not so great a shock as seeing him stand his trial for murder and be hanged at the end of it. Castell swears it was Geoffrey who planned and carried out Al Miller’s murder. You were right about the motive. Albert knew about the passage and was threatening to go to the police if he didn’t get a handsome rake-off. Castell says Geoffrey stabbed him. Luke White says he changed clothes with Albert and impersonated him, not because he knew anything about a plot to bump him off—how could we think that he would be a party to anything like that? All he thought was Albert was going to be shipped off out of harm’s way for a nice little holiday in France. And after he had made his way back here, of course he had to be in hiding and nobody told him anything—only that the police were after the passage and he’d got to skip over to France with the next run… Florence Duke? Oh, yes, they’d been married and separated, but he’d never set eyes on her from the time he walked out of the inn as Al Miller. It was very stupid of her to commit suicide, because, beyond telling him a bit about the passage years ago, she’d nothing to do with any of it, and it wasn’t her business. That’s going to be his line of defence, and he’ll get a slick lawyer to put it over for him. I’m afraid there isn’t an earthly chance of pinning poor Florence Duke’s murder on to him, but I shall be very much surprised if a jury doesn’t find that he was up to his neck in the conspiracy to murder Al Miller, every detail of which must have been most carefully thought out and planned beforehand.”

Miss Silver said, “I have no doubt of it.”

He nodded.

“Well, as I said, Castell swears Geoffrey Taverner did the actual stabbing, and if Geoffrey were alive, no doubt he would say it was Castell. Both of them were only just across the passage from that very convenient back stair which comes down on the far side of Castell’s office. When last seen alive Al Miller was being hustled into that office through the door which opens from the lounge. He was then more than half drunk. This was about ten o’clock. At a guess I should say Castell kept him there, and kept him drunk. Remember, he said he had been drinking downstairs with Luke White till round about eleven. This, of course, wasn’t true, because Luke was impersonating Albert at the Wiltons’ in Thread Street, but I think it’s pretty well certain that Castell was down in his office plying Albert with drink. He may have slipped upstairs about eleven and pretended to go to bed, in which case Geoffrey could have gone down and kept an eye on Albert. They had to give time for everyone in the house to be asleep, and they had to give time for Luke to establish his alibi. Then, right in the middle of their arrangements, John Higgins cropped up. He had heard from Mrs. Bridling of Eily’s scene with Luke, and naturally enough he came out here hot-foot to try and get her to come away. As you know, they compromised on her going to sleep with Jane Heron. But meanwhile Castell had overheard their conversation, and it gave him a bright idea.”

Miss Silver coughed.

“I do not think that it was Castell’s idea. We know very little about Geoffrey Taverner’s part in the whole affair, but I am not inclined to minimize it.”

He looked at her sharply.

“Did you suspect him at all?”

Her needles clicked.

“I was beginning to do so.”

“On what grounds?”

“I thought him a little too calm and unruffled on the night of the first murder—a little too—no, I cannot get a word for it. But there was something, some discrepancy between his behavior and the impression which it made upon me. It was all very slight, and people sometimes pose when there is no criminal motive. Then today, after Florence Duke had been found dead, he showed a definite change of manner towards myself. He had at first treated me in quite an offhand way. This morning quite suddenly he changed, became confidential on the subject of his sister, and thanked me for my kindness to her. He had noticed that she was inclined to talk to me, and he was anxious to convey certain impressions with regard to her. He wished me to believe that she was nervous, fanciful, credulous, and more than a little unbalanced. Some of these things were true, but why should he desire to impress them upon a stranger? My answer to that was that he was afraid of what she might have told me and wished to discount it without delay. I naturally found this very suggestive. To begin with, Geoffrey Taverner and his sister were the grandchildren of Jeremiah’s second son Matthew. Like his elder brother he was a builder. The older members of the family would have been the most likely to know the secrets of the house. A man who was a builder by trade would be apt to notice structural peculiarities. The eldest son obviously knew something which decided him to break off his connection with the Catherine-Wheel and strike out for himself. His son Jacob has shown an extreme interest in the matter. I discovered from Mildred Taverner that she had been the constant companion of her grandfather Matthew, the second son, and that he had told her he had been frightened by seeing a hole in the wall when he was a little boy. It occurred to me that he might have told Geoffrey a good deal more than that. The secret, if there was one, would be more likely to be handed down to a boy than to a nervous girl. These were some of the things which occurred to me.”

Frank nodded.

“Yes, I expect it was something like that. Well, to get back to Saturday night. I think we may assume Castell went and told Geoffrey that John Higgins had rolled up, and that one of them, probably Geoffrey, saw a way of making use of this. They waited until twelve or so, one of them in charge of Albert, and then they dressed him in Luke’s clothes, bumped him off, and laid him out at the foot of the stairs to be found by the first person who came down. Then, I think, Geoffrey went out and whistled Greenland’s Icy Mountains under Jane Heron’s window. If nobody heard him, well, that was that. If anyone did, it would throw suspicion on John Higgins. Castell unlatched one of the lounge windows to help the good work along. Then they both went back to bed and waited for someone to give the alarm. It was a very ingenious plan, and if it hadn’t been for you it might have come off.”

Miss Silver gave a modest cough.

“What about Mr. Jacob Taverner? He made a statement, did he not? What did he say?”

Frank’s smile had a tinge of malice.

“He hasn’t confided in you?”

“No.”

“How surprising! All the same, I’d like to know how he strikes you.”

She laid her knitting down for a moment and rested her hands upon it.

“Because a man has made a fortune in business it does not follow that his judgment in other matters is to be relied upon. I have thought that, having retired from active management, he has perhaps found time hangs heavy upon his hands, and I think that he has always had some kind of romantic fancy about the Catherine-Wheel. Most men have a point on which they are not quite grown up. I think that with Mr. Jacob Taverner this point is the Catherine-Wheel. Like the rest of the family, he knew something, and I think at the back of his mind there was the idea that someday when he had time he would go into the matter and clear it up. The lease ran out, the property came back to him, he retired from business, and there was his opportunity. By assembling as many of Jeremiah Taverner’s descendants as possible he hoped to piece together what they knew. I think he also may have had the idea of observing them with a view to the ultimate disposal of his fortune.”

“Well, well, you were looking over his shoulder, I suppose. Invisible, of course, because Crisp and I were there and we didn’t see you.”

She smiled indulgently.

“Did his statement say anything like that?”

“Practically word for word—especially the bit about not being quite grown up. He said his father told him there was a secret room—room, not passage—when he was a boy, and it took hold of him. He used to plan to go and find it, and to find it full of gold and silver. Rather an ironical way for a dream to come true! When he took the place over he pressed Castell about it. He didn’t get anything at first, but after he had put in his advertisement and the relations began to roll up Castell showed him the passage between the cellar and the shore. He said Annie had only just told him about it. Jacob didn’t believe him, and he still believed there was a secret room, because that’s what his father had called it, and nobody would have called that passage between the cellar and the shore a room. So he went on fishing to see what he could get from the relations. He thought they all knew something, and if he got them all together down here he’d be able to put the bits together and get what he wanted. Well, he got more than he bargained for. He’s a bit shattered. Two murders and a criminal conspiracy—it’s a little like going out with a shrimping-net and finding you’ve caught a shark!” Miss Silver was casting off her stitches. She said gravely, “It has been a very trying time, but it is over.”