The Judas Kiss (13 page)

"So Bessie tells me. She says it is the Suffolk air."

"I don't think the air would do it if you took it neat. What is the verdict of your very special jury?"

"About the poor lady, sir? All of 'em thinks it is murder, 'arf say it is suicide, and the rest, "

"The rest?"

"Well, sir, Joe Collett the barman. He says she was struck. He told us his old grandfather was struck just like it, except that he was in his bath. They didn't find him till after supper and he had never missed a meal before."

"Murder, suicide and struck covers most of the possibilities. Any real news?"

"They've called in the Yard, sir. The room was examined again and everything in it. Of course they questioned the staff and the visitors. Did anyone know her before she came, and such like. Complete stranger, they said. And old Teague the gardener, he comes in sometimes, he told us they did the same next door and gave everyone a rare twistin'."

"What is Teague's verdict?"

"He's all for suicide. Now they say the poor lady's things can be taken back there. The landlord's not half sorry to see 'em go. Wouldn't do the 'ouse no good."

"Who has come from the Yard?"

"No one I know, sir. I asked young Gellett, he's the local cop, but he either didn't know or wouldn't say. He never opens his mouth much 'ceptin' when there's a pot at it. Of course I didn't tell 'em who you really are, that you could clear things up a sight quicker than the Yard. The Missus told me not to." Ben had a vast belief in Roger's capabilities.

"Just as well you said nothing of the sort. I admit I am interested but it is best left to the right authority, especially when friends are concerned. Did you learn anything else?"

"Well, sir," Ben grinned, "Rosie, the chambermaid what looked after the poor lady, is a tidy piece and I 'appened to meet her on her afternoon out. She is as sure as sure it wasn't no case of suicide. She helped Mrs. M. to unpack one of her bags. Found her most friendly, said she was going abroad as soon as things was settled. The other bag could wait. If she wanted to do 'erself in, why should she trouble to pack and come to the Arms at all?"

"That bothers me," Roger said.

"Yes, sir. Some womenfolk we know wants to look lovely when they're dead. They lay 'emselves pretty on the bed with flowers round 'em and a bunch o' lilies in their 'and. But this poor lady 'ad dressed for dinner and was lying all of an untidy 'eap on the floor."

"Rosie found her?"

"That's right, sir. She went to do the room, thinkin' she had gone down to dinner, but the door was locked. She waited a bit and knocked and got no answer. Then she told 'em downstairs. She couldn't use the master-key as the other key was in the lock on the inside. The porter came up and twisted the key and poked it out. Then Rosie opened the door, and there she was."

"They sent for the family and the doctor?"

"Yes, sir. The doctor saw it was all up and told the young ladies to go 'ome. Then he 'anded over to the police."

"Very complicated," Roger said. "Let me know if you hear more."

Jasper called as soon as he got back from London. He said he would prefer to let the picture wait for a few days; he was too upset to concentrate on it. Ruth said she quite understood.

"It is a terrible thing to happen while one is away," Jasper added "I cannot think why she did it. A lot of awkward questions arise."

"What in particular?" Roger asked.

"The police want the funeral to take place as soon as possible after the inquest. Where is she to be buried and under what name? Emerald says she told you that Adelaide and our father were never really married. We cannot keep it secret. In any case we could not put her in his grave with our mother. And if it is suicide there is some rule about consecrated ground, isn't there?"

"Perhaps you should discuss that with the Vicar."

"I suppose we must. It would be humbug to pretend we are deeply grieved about her death, though it is a shock. But we want everything to be done decently and in order, as our father would have wished. Emerald is in favour of cremation, but there is another difficulty. She has a husband, legally I mean. Pearl saw him come to the house. She says she told you. Ought we to communicate with him and find out what he wants to do?"

"It might be a good thing to get your lawyer to see to that," Roger suggested. "Undoubtedly the police will want a word with him."

"Old Watson. That's an idea. I hadn't thought of it. Rather a startler for him when he knows the truth, but I think we had better leave it all to him. That is what lawyers are for, isn't it?"

Roger had another caller from next door on the eve of the inquest. This time it was Pearl. She had got over the worst of the shock though she was still pathetically pale; very different from the bright and happy girl they met when they arrived. And it was a new worry she came about.

"Do you remember Adelaide wearing a diamond star at her neck with ear-rings to match?" she asked Ruth.

"I never saw her wear them but she once showed me the star. She had it in her handbag. She said her husband, that is Mr. Michelmore, gave it her. It was beautiful."

"It is missing," Pearl said. "I looked for it among her things when they came back from the hotel and it was not there. Emerald and I also searched in her room but we could not find it. She had some other jewellery which was there all right, but that was gone."

"When did you last see it?" Roger asked.

"She was wearing it the day she told us she was going to the hotel."

"It was very valuable?"

"Yes, but it isn't that. It was my mother's. I loved it. One day, the first time I saw Adelaide with it, I asked Daddy why he gave it to her. I suppose it was natural for him to do so, but I felt it ought to go to one of us. Emerald, perhaps, or the wife of one of the boys if they marry; Daddy said he did not know we felt like that about it. She didn't wear it again until that last day. And now it has gone."

Tears were in her eyes as she spoke of it. It recalled so many happy days that were gone too. Roger and Ruth regarded her with real sympathy.

"If it is sure it has been taken," the former said, "you must tell the police about it at once. It could have been stolen in the hotel, "

"She was not wearing it when we went to her and Dr. Skelton came so soon."

"The servants who found her could have taken it, though I think that improbable."

"She was wearing a band of black velvet with a small brooch when we saw her," Pearl whispered.

"The star could have been a motive for murder," Roger said gravely. "Can you describe it?"

"I can draw it."

He handed her a piece of paper and with swift certain fingers she made a sketch; a large central stone with others not quite so big surrounding it to form a five-cornered star.

"That size?"

"I think so."

"I think so too," Ruth said. "Adelaide told me it cost three thousand pounds."

"You must tell the police at once," Roger repeated, "and let them have the sketch. It may be an important clue."

The inquest was held in a hail insufficient in size to hold all who would have liked to attend. Roger was present, although he did not expect much more than evidence of identity and of the cause of death to be given. Arthur Dixon was there and so was Peter Skelton. Pearl was not. Mr. Watson had a seat near the front.

Jasper was the first witness and his evidence created some sensation among all, but the few who were aware of the facts. Roger was a little surprised that he and not Garnet, the elder brother, was called. He looked round but the curate was not there. Possibly the nature of the evidence explained the choice of witness.

Having taken the oath Jasper was asked if he had seen the body and could state positively who it was. "I have seen her," was the reply, with obvious reluctance. "It is the lady we thought was my father's second wife, Adelaide Michelmore, but we now know they were not married."

There was a hum of astonishment. When it had subsided the Coroner asked: "Who then is she?"

"Adelaide Bidaut."

"How do you know that?"

"I went to St. Malo on quite another matter, the sale of some of my pictures, and I chanced to meet a man who called himself Gaston Bidaut. He told me his wife Adelaide had run off with an Englishman, a Mr. Michelmore. He showed me her photograph and there was no doubt it was the same. On my return I asked her about it and she admitted it was true. It is painful to say this about my own father but I should like to add that I am sure he intended to marry her if it became possible and had not his own life ended so tragically."

"Have you seen this Gaston Bidaut since?"

"No, sir. I understand he called on his wife the day before she left our home, but I was away in London. I believe the police were informed."

The Coroner turned to the local police superintendent. "Have you been able to contact Gaston Bidaut?"

"Not yet, sir."

"Did this woman leave your home by her own choice?" The question was to Jasper.

He hesitated. "She did. I suggested it would be unpleasant for us to live together. My father had left her well provided for and the house was hers for life, but we also had the right to live in it. She decided to go to the hotel while she made future plans."

"There was no suggestion that she might end her life?"

"No, sir."

Jasper left the box and Emerald took his place. She was wearing black but looked calm and determined. She briefly confirmed all that her brother had said.

"Had you and this woman lived together in amity?"

"While my father lived, yes. It was a shock when he introduced someone so young as his wife, but on the whole we got on well enough."

"And when you learned she was not his wife, or his widow?"

"We were naturally much upset. But as she said she was going away, that seemed the best thing."

The next in the box was Rose Chappell, the chamber maid, who told of the locked door and the discovery of the dying lady. The porter and the landlord of the hotel corroborated her story and said how they had lifted the body onto the bed and sent for the doctor and the family. Asked if they had removed anything from the room, a cup or bottle or a container of any sort, they all said No.

Then Hannah Wood was called. Old Nan looked a queer figure with her wispy grey hair, her sharp eyes, her wrinkled face and her tight lips. But she was very self-possessed.

"You are the cook-housekeeper to the Michelmore family?"

"I am."

"You were previously nurse to the young children?"

"I was."

"I believe you helped your mistress to pack before she left her home?"

"I did."

"What did she take with her?"

"Two big suitcases and a fitted dressing-case."

"You packed them all?"

"No. Only the suitcase. With dresses and underwear."

"Did those cases take all her possessions?"

"Most of 'em."

"What about the remainder?"

"She said if she wanted 'em she would send for 'em."

"She meant to send for them?"

"It sounded like it. She didn't give much away."

"Now as to the dressing-case you did not pack. Could you see what was in it?"

"It was open, but I weren't interested."

"It contained a number of bottles, didn't it?"

Old Nan nodded. "With silver tops. She said Mr. Michelmore gave it to her."

"You do not know what the bottles contained?"

"I weren't interested. She had all sorts of things for her face and her eyes and her finger-nails." Old Nan spoke as one who scorned such aids to beauty.

"Anything else in the case?"

"Brushes and combs fixed inside the lid."

"What about jewellery?"

"There was a special compartment for that with a separate key."

"Was it open?"

"No."

"Your mistress had, I believe, a valuable diamond star with ear-rings to match. Did you see them?"

"No."

"But you had seen her wearing them?"

"Yes. They were family jools. She shouldn't have had 'em."

"So far as you know, they were locked in that special compartment?"

"I don't know."

"You were on good terms with her?"

"I did my duty." Old Nan spoke primly.

"Did she say anything to make you think you would never see her alive again?" The Coroner uttered the words solemnly and Nan for a moment considered her reply.

"Can't say she did. Not in so many words. She said she was not sorry to go. The house had unhappy memories."

"I believe that the afternoon before she went away you took a visitor, Gaston Bidaut, to see her?"

"I did."

"Were you aware that he was her husband?"

"I was not. I thought Mr. Michelmore was."

"Did you hear what passed between them?"

"I was not interested."

"You did not hear anything?"

"No."

"How long did he stay?"

"About an hour."

"And did your mistress refer in any way to his call or who he was?"

"Not a word."

There were a few more questions but nothing of importance was elicited, though it was clear Nan had little to say that was good of her late employer. Then Dr. Skelton took the stand.

He described how he had come directly he received the summons. He found Emerald and Pearl had arrived a few minutes before him. He advised them to go home as life was practically extinct. He tried certain restorative measures but with no satisfactory result. The lady died just as the police arrived. He had asked for them to come at once.

"Did you form any opinion, doctor, as to the cause of death?"

"I suspected poison, but I made no real examination."

The police doctor confirmed this. He said he found cyanide of potassium in the body in sufficient quantity to cause death. He gave some details as to a fatal dose and the rapidity of its action.

"Did you see any bottle or other vessel or article that might have contained the cyanide?" he was asked.

"I did not," he replied.

"Did you examine the bottles or other contents of the dressing-case?"

"I was requested later by the police to do so and I made thorough tests."