The Fashion In Shrouds (41 page)

‘Well, yes, there is that aspect, isn't there?'

‘My dear chap' – the other man was exasperated – ‘I
have many friends but I don't stand for 'em through thick and thin. I'm not superhuman nor am I a sentimental bloody fool. What put you on?'

‘A quotation from a letter of Sterne's,' said Mr Campion. He spoke dreamily and when his host stared at him went on, his tired voice precise and almost expressionless. ‘Lugg, of all people, produced it at four o'clock in the morning. All through this business I've been bewildered by a curious hand-of-fate quality which has pervaded the whole thing. I noticed it first when I found young Portland-Smith so very conveniently dead and yet lying in the one spot where no murderer could possibly have put him I said something about it being “like Providence” and Lugg suddenly produced the key. This is the quotation. It gives it to you in one. The truth is startlingly obvious when you consider it. “
Providence, having the advantage of knowing both the strengths and the weaknesses of men, has a facility for unostentatious organization undreamed of by our Generals
.” It's a smart-type remark and just like a sophisticated parson, but it contains the key of this business. See it – “Unostentatious organization”? That's the operative phrase; while the recipe for same is given earlier: “knowing both the strengths and the weaknesses”. That is how it was all done.'

‘My God, you've got it, Campion!' Ferdie was watching him with fascinated interest. ‘I think you're right. I thought you were three parts fool, but I take it back. This is what I've been groping for. This explains
how.
Yes, I see it in the main, but I thought, when you were talking yesterday, you said that Portland-Smith's suicide was not intended?'

Mr Campion rose.

‘It wasn't,' he said. ‘The intention was merely to get him out of the way of Georgia. He was round her feet. No one knew they were married, remember. You didn't yourself, even. In the beginning it was simply a little intrigue to break up an engagement of which Georgia was obviously tired and yet which, for some reason or other, she refused to dissolve. There was no great underlying scheme about it. It was just a little plot to end an unwise alliance. Portland-Smith was evidently nuts about the woman and I fancy the idea was either to get it into his head that he could never afford to marry her, or, failing that, to get it into her head
that he was unfaithful and not worth worrying about. Anyway, the original plan was merely to make a decisive sort of row between them. Unfortunately the “unostentatious organization” technique was not then perfected and, as with many beginners, the tendency was to work too large, while of course the unknown fact that the two were married altered the whole scale of the thing. However, it provides a fine example of the method itself. The recipe lies in the strengths and the weaknesses, remember. A frame-up was arranged. Portland-Smith was in love with Georgia and she was unkind. Therefore a girl who resembled Georgia had a chance with him. That was a weakness in him. He was a barrister and therefore unable to take any real advantage of the anonymity law, so that he was peculiarly susceptible to blackmail. That was another weakness. Of the two women employed to do the dirty work the elder, who arranged the whole thing and who in my opinion needed no more than to have the idea as a money-making scheme put up to her, had a passion for money and that particular type of mind which can see the sufferings of others and regard them without comprehension, seeing them only as an interesting spectacle. That in her was a strength. Unfortunately, however, the blindness which made it possible for her to have undertaken the project at all was too much for the scheme altogether. Unconscious of the effect she was really having on Portland-Smith, she hounded the poor beast to death, and her boss, the original perpetrator of the little row, found Georgia's unwanted fiancé permanently removed. Whether this astounding success encouraged him or not I don't like to think, but I imagine that, once one has accustomed oneself to the idea of causing death, the convenient finality of that means of disposing of an obstacle might outweigh all other considerations. Anyhow, when Ramillies became a howling nuisance, the “unostentatious organization” method was put into practice again. Again the strengths and the weaknesses of men were all carefully utilized. Ramillies was so afraid of flying that he believed in the perfectly preposterous story of a drug which would make him feel seedy for four hours and magnificent for twenty-four. That was a weakness. Caesar's Court is one of the few places in England where the organization is so perfect that, should anything
arise there which the manager desired to hush up, every possible facility for doing so could be instantly afforded him. That was a strength. Then there were interested Government officials there who could lend their influence to avoid any scandal if there seemed no real cause for one. That was the strength of the occasion. It was all very prettily thought out. Think of the doctor. Juxton-Coltness is an unmitigated snob and he was flattered by the invitation to Caesar's Court and availed himself of it promptly. That was a weakness in him. He is anxious to please all important people and is in the peculiar position of having the kind of fashionable practice which permits him to take little risks which an ordinary G.P. might hesitate about. That is a strength. See what I mean?'

‘Yes, I do. You're right, thunderingly right.' Ferdie was trembling in his interest. ‘What about the last case?'

‘Caroline? Oh, that was the same thing. I mean, it was done in the same way. But it was a murder of necessity. Caroline attempted to blackmail her old colleague of the Portland-Smith business and, since anything that involved that elder woman would of necessity also involve the man, the old original god in the machine, she had to be silenced. This time the strengths and the weaknesses were brilliantly employed. He was becoming more experienced, I suppose. Caroline needed money badly. She had no job, no protector. This need blinded her to the tremendous danger of going alone to the Hakapopulous restaurant. However, she had been there before with her colleague to interview Portland-Smith and she thought she was going to meet a woman, the woman who had stood by the telephone while the wretched girl rang me up as a threat. Still, real need of money was her weakness. Then the Hakapopulous brothers could not afford an inquiry into their business. They were people who simply could not risk a murder investigation on their premises. That was their weakness. But their strengths were equally useful. Those two are crooks with the real crook temperament which half enjoys a tremendous risk. Also they are experienced. They've cleared up a mess and destroyed evidence before. Added to this, they're both used to police cross-examination and they know all the answers.

‘There you are. That's how the whole thing was done, by
brilliant, unostentatious organization. He organized his crimes and relied on the strengths and the weaknesses of other people, none of whom had the least idea of the way in which they were being used, to protect him. The fact that he could do it shows the sort of chap he is: shrewd, sophisticated, quite without conscience and probably under the impression that he's superhuman, in which respect he's insane, of course.'

His voice died away and there was silence in the room.

‘The man's a genius,' said Ferdie presently and sighed. ‘Look how he runs that place,' he added. ‘What a pity, Campion! What a cracking pity!'

Mr Campion lay back in his chair again. He looked exhausted.

‘Have you known this long?' he inquired at last.

‘It's been forcing in on me for a bit. I've been afraid of it, yes. After all, when you're in the thick of a thing like this you can't help your mind working on it, can you?'

‘Got any ideas?'

‘I don't know. I've been thinking.' Ferdie paused and looked at his visitor. ‘Forgive me, old chap, but I haven't really taken you seriously before. I've been working on an idea of my own. I didn't know
how
he'd done it, you see; all I knew was that he
must
have done it, and of course I saw why.'

‘You did? I didn't. I don't. That's the thing I don't understand now. I can't see why on earth he should get rid of two of Georgia's boy friends, one after the other, simply because she'd set her heart on someone new. It's not feasible. That's where the whole case goes to pieces and becomes fantastic.'

Ferdie laughed softly.

‘You haven't got the full story, old boy. You've got some of your facts wrong,' he said. ‘All he did was to remove two men who were dangerous to Georgia's career. That was the thing Ramillies and Portland-Smith had in common. Damn it, Georgia's had plenty of love affairs which didn't end fatally! Look at that fellow Dell. Portland-Smith was a strong-minded chap who'd set his heart on being a County Court judge. You never met him, did you? I did. I can't describe that chap. He was one of those pompous,
pig-headed, thick-skinned fellows. You knew he'd get his own way if it was only by nagging for it or simply sitting next it until it became his by squatter's rights. You saw that in his eyes. If he hadn't been removed he'd have removed Georgia in the end. He just happened to be that sort of chap. Ramillies was a different bloke but just as dangerous. He was the “scatty beaver” breed; you know, half-built dams in every square foot of stream. He wanted Georgia out on that swamp of his and when he got her there he played old Harry with her. Did you see her when she came back last time? Oh, terrible! Half-frightened, half-demoralized, figure going, God knows what. Ramillies was wild, you know, reckless, slightly crackers. He'd have ruined her if she'd stayed out there any length of time. Besides, she was terrified of him.'

He hesitated.

‘Just before the flight excitement he'd got some hold on her, too, I fancy. I think he got some information out of that girl.'

‘Out of Caroline Adamson?'

‘Yes, I think so.'

‘About the fleecing of Portland-Smith?'

‘Yes. I imagine he was using it to get Georgia out to his infernal swamp and to keep her there for some time. At least, that's what I think.'

‘I see.' Mr Campion's hollow eyes were hard. ‘But why?' he demanded. ‘Why this concern for Georgia and her career? Why Georgia?'

Ferdie slid off the table and walked down the room. He looked unhappy and embarrassed, but there was still a hint of amusement on his shining rococo face.

‘She's a considerable artist, you know,' he said. ‘She makes a lot of money. He didn't see he was running any risk, and he wasn't until he had to wipe out Caroline. She's a valuable property, Campion; a great possession.'

‘To
him
?' Campion was insistent.

‘I think Gaiogi Laminoff had better tell you about that himself, old boy,' said Ferdie Paul. ‘Good heavens, haven't you ever looked at 'em?'

‘Do you mean that she's his daughter?' Mr Campion seemed taken completely off his balance.

‘You talk to him, old boy,' said Ferdie Paul.

There was a long pause during which Mr Campion lay back in his chair, his face blank. Ferdie was more practical.

‘Campion,' he said suddenly, ‘look here, this is a jam. We're all in it. None of us want any more of a row than we can possibly help. I'm not asking you to shield anybody. That's too darned dangerous, I see that. But if we could avoid the worst it would at least be something. We might at least save ourselves the flood of dirt in the newspapers. Let's get hold of him. Let's get him up here and get the whole truth out of him and then put it to him plainly. He's up in the clouds. He doesn't see where he stands. I bet you he doesn't realize the danger. He's probably thinking about table decorations or illuminating the bed of the river by the swimming pool. His sense of proportion has gone to pot. If we got him here, in this room, and talked to him we could get the facts into his head.'

Mr Campion passed his fine hands over his face.

‘Get him to sign something, you mean?' he said dubiously. ‘Sign something and go to Mexico or some other place uncovered by the extradition agreement?'

‘Well, yes,' said Ferdie slowly, ‘unless, of course, he has some other idea . . . After all, that would be better than the police way,' he added defensively.

‘I think perhaps we ought to see him,' agreed Mr Campion hesitantly. ‘Between us we've got quite enough to prove the truth to him, if not to a jury. What did he use in that hypodermic on Ramillies? Did he get Caroline to do that? She may have swallowed the whole story, as did Ramillies himself, of course. Women will believe anything about medicine. It was a hell of a risk.'

‘I suppose it was. It all depends what it was. The police may never find out.'

‘That's so, but they'll do their best,' Mr Campion spoke bitterly. ‘They'll go round to our pet chemists, our doctors, our personal friends, making what they consider are discreet inquiries, until no one will give us so much as a packet of bicarbonate of soda without looking at us as if we were buying prussic acid. That's what I mean. The police are so damnably thorough. Our lives won't be worth living.'

Ferdie took a deep breath.

‘We'll get him up here,' he said. ‘After all, Campion, once
the police are satisfied about him they'll stop hounding the rest of us. We must do it. There's no other way, is there?'

‘We could try. Is he suspicious?'

‘I'm not sure.' Ferdie stood considering the practical aspects of the project. Now that the moment had come it was he who took command. Mr Campion remained in his chair, his head sunk between his shoulders, weary disillusionment in every line of his thin body. ‘He's at home to-night,' said Ferdie at last. ‘He rang me up just before you came. I don't think we'll beard him there. We don't want a row down there if we can help it. We've all got too much precious cash in the darned place. Look here, I'll go down now and fetch him. You'd better not come. If he sees you he'll spot something. I'll bring him back here and we'll have it out, alone, where we can't be disturbed. How's that?'