The Ginger Cat Mystery (21 page)

“I have just left Carstairs and he warned me he had told you. To put the matter in a nutshell, he thinks Redgrave introduced Tapp, who is a germ-carrier, into the Cornell household with malice aforethought. He also has a suspicion, though he doesn't frankly say so, that Frank Cornell's murder may be a sequel to the first nasty bit of business.”

“You knew about this germ-carrier idea and hugged the secret to yourself without letting your faithful friend into the know. I'm feeling very hurt, Mr. Vereker.”

“Carstairs told me the story in the strictest confidence and I felt sure he'd tell you before long. Do you really think there's anything in it, Heather?”

“I've been weighing the matter up in my own mind. At present the whole thing seems too farfetched to me. I see no connection whatever, but it gives us a line on which to keep our eyes skinned. There's one objection to putting much stress on Carstairs' story; he clearly dislikes Doctor Redgrave. He makes no bones about it. They had a wordy set-to this morning.”

“Yes, he told me so, but I think his dislike of Redgrave has arisen chiefly out of this germ-carrier affair. It was at bottom the cause of their row because, in the first instance, it was indirectly the spring that set David Cornell into getting his brother's body exhumed.”

“Frankly, what's your opinion of Carstairs?” asked Heather.

“On the whole he impresses me favourably, Heather, but he's rather an uncommon type and I don't know altogether what to make of him. At times he appears cautious and guarded and at others blurts out what a reserved man would never mention. I should say he was rather an idealist in some ways and you don't meet many of them nowadays. He's a strong lover and would doubtless make a relentless enemy.”

“Struck me as a bit eccentric. A man who clearly knows that a girl doesn't return his affection and yet moons after her year in year out instead of finding another just as good isn't quite normal. He might at least forget her and be happy with his fret-saw work, racing pigeons, or any other old hobby.”

“I must say his constancy to the girl he loves gets me on a soft spot, Heather. It's romance in the grand manner and wins me over every time. I can't say why, but the expert psychologist could doubtless tell us all about this romantic complex.”

“Would you behave that way yourself?” asked Heather sharply.

“No, I don't think I would, but I can't help admiring a man who can be utterly true to one woman for so many years in spite of the hopelessness of his passion.”

“Yes, I can admire him in a book because you can blow the candle out, stuff the book under your pillow and fall asleep with the comfortable feeling that it's all a yarn. When you meet the bloke in real life he's rather terrifying. You feel so damned sorry for him that he annoys you. And then a man who can be so single-minded in love can be fanatical in other lines of behaviour. I don't feel too comfortable about young Mr. Carstairs. If he loves Miss Cornell so strongly he'd be a dangerous man to anyone who harmed her, even to his friend Frank Cornell.”

“I agree, Heather. There's a lot in what you say, but I can't work up a feeling of handcuffs about him so far. Did he tell you that the duplicate keys to the music room had been found at last?”

“Yes, in a drawer in John Cornell's study. He also hinted that it was strange that Doctor Redgrave should have known they were there all the time.”

“It struck me as significant if not peculiar. We must keep in mind that Redgrave and Mrs. Cornell were ghost hunting in the music room on the night of the murder and that Redgrave left by the music room door.”

“But why should Redgrave take the trouble to mention that he knew where the keys were at this hour and that he had known all along? If he had had any guilty connection with the loss of those keys, he'd have said nothing about them. He'd have let us find them ourselves. His explanation seemed to me wholly above-board and just the explanation an innocent man would give.”

“That's possibly exactly what he wants us to think. His methods may be the cunning methods of a very astute brain. If Redgrave is a criminal he's certainly not in the category of stupid ones. I feel more comfortable about Carstairs than I do about the doctor. I should like to meet Redgrave and form my own opinion of him after observing him in the flesh. What you hear of a man from others is really half-dead stuff in comparison with what you find out by seeing him. Every shade of expression in the eye, the naturalness or artificiality of his gestures, the deadly information unconsciously disclosed by nerves that refuse to be utterly controlled, the very inflection of the voice and bodily pose when making a statement are so vitally informative to the man who has eyes to see.”

“True, Mr. Vereker, but there's one thing about the discovery of those keys that strikes me as important. If Redgrave knew they were there all the time, it almost proves that they were not in the possession of David Cornell or his daughter on the fatal night.”

“You've come round to a piece of information I gathered this afternoon and was going to tell you. After lunch I called at the Listers' cottage. Mary Lister, the daughter, is a maid at the bungalow. She saw those music room keys on Cornell's desk only last week. I have been very suspicious of Miss Cornell all along and this piece of news came to me as really important. She herself told me definitely and without any hesitation that she didn't know what had happened to those keys and that Crawley, the butler, ought to know what had become of them.”

“There's just a possibility that there's a third set,” suggested Heather, “and as I suspect both David Cornell and his daughter, I'm inclined to think that they or one of them had a private third set made. Such a set would be extremely handy for Miss Cornell when she wanted to meet her lover secretly in the music room. She could also speak with downright truthfulness when she said she didn't know where the duplicate set had vanished to.”

“That's a bright suggestion, Heather. I see you don't wish to relinquish your suspicions about David Cornell. Neither do I, if you wish to know my feelings in the matter. There's another important point I gathered this afternoon which points to Miss Cornell. She rides a motor-cycle and is fond of gardening. When engaged in either of those pursuits she wears flannel trousers, a jumper and goes without a hat. She could easily have been taken for a man by George Tapp when he peered out from the summer-house on the night of the murder and saw a hatless man making his way through the garden towards the formal garden.”

“Yes, Tapp could easily have fallen into such an error. On the other hand, I know Mr. David Cornell never wears a hat, and the man whom Tapp saw might just as easily have been Cornell.”

“Sound stuff, Heather. Father and daughter are now running neck and neck in my black list. A final piece of information I gathered from the obliging Mary Lister. On the night of the crime, one or other of the Cornells was moving about the bungalow at one o'clock. Mary heard footsteps and also the back door opened and closed. She was suffering from toothache and didn't pay particular attention to the matter because it was not unusual for one or both of them to be up at one o'clock in the morning.”

“Did Miss Lister tell you that Frank Cornell once worked up a crush on her?” asked Heather quietly. “She was also a bit sweet on him.”

“No, she didn't. That's important, Heather; it shows why she took so much trouble to learn of Frank and Stella's trysting arrangements. She would be jealous and rather inquisitive about their movements. Did the affair go farther than mere flirtation?”

“I can't say. The gentleman was an eager lad and I should say Miss Lister would be none too bashful if it meant the possible capture of a rich young man or a fair solatium if marriage was out of the question.”

“This brings in another factor,” remarked Vereker thoughtfully. “The ramifications of this case become more bewildering every day. If young Cornell had a guilty liaison with the girl Lister, there's just a possibility she'd resent being cast aside on the eve of the lover's marriage. She's a forceful young woman, I should say, from the brief interview I had with her, and might at a pinch use a pistol. Against this theory is the fact that she knew nothing about the pistol hidden in the bureau in the music room.”

“I think we can safely dismiss her from our search, Mr. Vereker. What we want is one really good clue to drive us along the correct path.”

“There's my clue of the ginger tabby,” said Vereker.

“Oh, damn the ginger tabby!” exclaimed Heather bluntly.

“I don't know so much about that, Heather. You surely remember the French murderer who was brought to justice by the evidence of a plumed seed found on his coat? It belonged to a comparatively rare plant in the district, and the detective investigating the case found one of the plants only a couple of feet from the dead body. In the struggle one of the seeds had attached itself to the murderer's coat.”

“Yes, yes, I remember, but in our case this hair was found on the settee in the music room. Anyone might have carried it there, even the wind. It's so inconclusive at the present moment but, of course, we won't utterly neglect it.” Heather lapsed into ruminative silence and then suddenly asked, “I wonder if you'd do a little job for me to-night, Mr. Vereker?”

“Certainly, Heather. That's what I'm here for. What's the job?”

“Before you returned I had a message from Mrs. Cornell and she said she'd like to have a talk with me after dinner, say, about eight o'clock. Now, I'm terribly busy with other lines of inquiry and I've an idea the good lady's going to waste my time. As I've said before, she's an exasperating sort of person to question. I wish you'd take my place and hear what she has got to say. You've not met her as yet and the opportunity presents itself now. Besides, I've great faith in your powers of dealing with a woman of her class and temperament. I might send Goss, but it would be something like using a Big Bertha to shoot a swallow. Will you turn up at the Manor and say I've sent you as my proxy?”

“By Jove, Heather, this is just the kind of job I like. I'm your man.”

“I thought you'd jump to it, Mr. Vereker, but before we go any farther, there'll be no necessity for you to go to the music room with the lady to hunt for the Manor ghost. You can safely leave that sort of thing to Doctor Redgrave.”

“Ah, you've not heard the true story of the Manor ghost, Heather. Mary Lister definitely laid the spook this afternoon. She told me that the bride in the wedding dress who played the piano on the occasion that Mrs. Cornell saw the ghost, was none other than Miss Stella Cornell. She was waiting in the music room for Frank Cornell to turn up when Mrs. Cornell entered and saw her. Some days after, Miss Cornell told Lister the truth about the business and they thought it was a good enough joke to keep as a secret between themselves. Even Mrs. Cornell knows the secret.”

“I'm glad we've not got to deal with the supernatural,” remarked Heather wearily. “The case is complicated enough without any interference from the other world.” With these words Heather rose and knocked out his pipe in the empty fireplace. “I'll see you to-night before you turn in, Mr. Vereker,” he added as he crossed the room and, opening the door, slowly disappeared.

At about half-past seven Vereker left the “Dog and Partridge” and turned into the main road which led to Marston Manor. As he was passing out of the village he overtook a young woman walking at a smart pace in the same direction. She turned and glanced somewhat nervously at him, and at once Vereker recognized that she was Mary Lister.

“Good evening, Miss Lister,” he said. “I suppose you're on your way to the bungalow?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. “Are you going there?”

“No; I was making my way up to the Manor. If you don't object, I'll keep you company. I'll go as far as the bungalow gate with you and then turn up the farther Manor drive which is near.”

“Thanks very much, sir. I'll be glad of your company because I'm a bit nervous on this road by myself in the evening, especially since Mr. Frank's murder.”

“Naturally. I'm glad I've met you because since I saw you this afternoon I found there were several questions I wanted to ask you and forgot. Did you know Mr. Frank Cornell at all well?”

“How do you mean, sir?” asked Miss Lister guardedly.

“Well, to speak to, for instance?”

“Oh, yes, sir, when I first went into service at the bungalow he used to turn up there almost every day. Then his father objected to his courting Miss Stella and he only came rarely. He was always ready to talk to anyone, and if Mr. Cornell and Miss Stella were out, he'd come into the kitchen and talk to me as if I was his equal. I did like that about him. He didn't put on any side and was always full of fun.”

“He had rather a soft spot for a pretty girl,” remarked Vereker pointedly.

“So everyone says, but you'd hardly call me a pretty girl, would you, sir?”

“If you're asking my personal opinion, Miss Lister, I should certainly say you had your fair share of good looks.”

“Lor' bless us! You're the first man I've ever heard say so,” replied Miss Lister with a nervous little laugh. “Still, I think Mr. Frank was a bit partial to me.”

“I'm not surprised, but if I'm a judge of character, you kept him at arm's length.”

“I don't know so much about that. I must say I thought he was a very nice gentleman, and if circumstances had been different I think I could have liked him very much.”

“Did he ever pay you any marked attention?” asked Vereker bluntly.

“Now you're asking something,” replied Mary. “On one or two occasions I happened to be alone in the bungalow. He was inclined to be a bit fresh, but I showed him straight I was having none of that. He actually kissed me once, but when I got wild with him and told him I'd tell Miss Stella, he was sorry and begged me not say anything about it.”