The Riddle at Gipsy's Mile (An Angela Marchmont Mystery 4) (11 page)

Jameson forbore to remind him of the Copernicus Club
’
s intermit
tent adherence to the licensing laws as evidenced by his mother
’
s frequent appearances before the magistrates.

‘
Oh, there
’
s absolutely no suggestion that this woman was up to anything she oughtn
’
t to have been,
’
he said mendaciously.
‘
We are just anxious t
o find out who she was, and this is the only clue we have.
’

‘
I see,
’
said Johnny Chang.

‘
Have
any of your girls gone missing recently?
’
said Jameson.

Johnny shook his head.

‘
No,
’
he said.
‘
I can assure you that all our girls are accounted for. I
’
m sorry,
inspector, but I
’
m afraid I can
’
t help you.
’

He spoke with finality. Jameson saw that there was no use in questioning him further, and he and Willis rose to leave. Mrs. Chang returned and beamed at them.

‘
You come here whenever you like,
’
she said,
‘
but in
dinner-suit next time, please, and without warrant-card. We have fine music and beautiful girls. You have a good time, yes? We like the police. They very good drinkers.
’

Jameson thanked her and they went out, Johnny Chang following them down the stairs. T
hey reached the entrance-hall just as the front door opened and there entered a group of men carrying instruments whom Jameson guessed to be the Negro orchestra, presumably come to rehearse. The arrivers and the departers ran into each other and there was
some confusion and many apologies as they all disentangled themselves.

‘
Goodbye, inspector,
’
said Johnny Chang, then turned to one of the band, a gangling young fellow who was carrying a trumpet-case.
‘
Just a minute, Alvie,
’
he said.
‘
I want to speak to yo
u.
’

‘
Inspector?
’
drawled Alvie, looking at Jameson in surprise.
‘
We got the cops here again already, Mr. Chang?
’

‘
It
’
s nothing,
’
said Johnny.
‘
They
’
re just looking for a missing girl. We can
’
t help them, of course. Now, let
’
s go upstairs.
’

Alvie glanced ba
ck at the two policemen as he followed Johnny up the stairs, but said nothing.

‘
It
’
s no use,
’
said Jameson as he and Willis emerged into the street.
‘
They
’
ve closed ranks. They aren
’
t going to give us any more information than they can help.
’

‘
Hardly surpr
ising,
’
said Willis.
‘
They know
—
or at least suspect
—
exactly what their girls get up to, but they can
’
t admit it or they
’
ll be pulled up for running a disorderly house, and that
’
s the last thing they want just now.
’

‘
Yes,
’
said Jameson,
‘
but that presents r
ather a problem for us if they won
’
t tell us anything. We shall have to send a chap in under-cover, to see what he can discover. I want to find out who this poor girl was.
’

‘
I thought policemen never had time for lunch,
’
said Mrs. Marchmont as the w
aiter pulled out her chair for her.

‘
I don
’
t, normally,
’
said Inspector Jameson,
‘
but I happened to be in the area and thought I
’
d look you up, just on the off-chance.
’

‘
I
’
m very glad you did,
’
said Angela.
‘
I found myself unaccountably at a loose end today and was getting rather bored, but now I have someone interesting to talk to. I do hope you
’
re going to be indiscreet.
’

Jameson laughed.

‘
Only up to a point,
’
he said.

‘
Then I shall have to be content with that.
’
She paused as the waiter fussed about her, then said,
‘
Are you allowed to tell me how you are getting on with the case of that poor woman in the ditch?
’

‘
I don
’
t see why not,
’
he replied.
‘
The facts will all come
out sooner or later anyway.
’

‘
How splendid,
’
she said.
‘
I thought you might have to keep it all under your hat, since I
’
m not involved in any way.
’

‘
Of course you
’
re involved. Had it not been for you the body would never have been found, and besides, I sh
ould be interested to hear your perspective on things. You have that clarity of thought which is essential in a good detective, and may well be able to spot something that we have missed.
’

‘
Oh,
’
said Angela, flattered.

‘
But it must remain between ourselv
es. I don
’
t want to see it all in the
Clarion
tomorrow,
’
he went on, half-teasingly.

Angela felt herself going red.

‘
Oh!
’
she said again.
‘
I was rather hoping you didn
’
t read that dreadful rag. I shall have something to say to Cynthia Pilkington-Soames whe
n I see her. I never said half those things she wrote, and I only agreed to do it in the first place because she practically pinned me into a corner.
’

‘
I must admit, I didn
’
t recognize you from her portrayal,
’
he said.

‘
Well, that
’
s a comfort, at any rate,
’
she said.
‘
But of course you know that I should never dream of allowing things told to me in confidence to get into the papers.
’

‘
I know it,
’
he said.

‘
Then let
’
s not talk about that stupid story any more, or I shall never live down the embarrassment,
’
s
he said.

He saw that she was rather ruffled by the whole thing and tactfully changed the subject.

The waiter came and hovered politely, and the important matter of the food occupied the next few minutes. Then they returned to the case at hand. Jameson told
her about Dr. Ingleby
’
s findings, and she was surprised.

‘
That is very interesting and rather odd,
’
she said.
‘
Yes, I can see why the Littlechurch police called you in. This is not an ordinary, everyday sort of murder, is it?
’

‘
Not when poison is thrown i
n as an ingredient,
’
he agreed.

‘
But where was she given the arsenic, and how?
’
said Angela.
‘
I had rather thought that the whole thing happened on the spur of the moment. I assumed she had probably been strangled
—
perhaps even in a car
—
and then thrown down
the bank. But it
’
s difficult to poison someone in a car, I imagine. Presumably, in that case, she must have spent some time in a house or a hotel and been given the poison there, perhaps in a meal or a drink.
’

The inspector nodded.

‘
Yes,
’
he said.
‘
And ac
cording to Dr. Ingleby, she didn
’
t die immediately. She had a gastric attack, as one would expect from arsenical poisoning, but seems to have survived that. It was heart failure that killed her, caused by the after-effects of the poison. After she was dea
d
, someone took care to disfigure her face and then disposed of the body, but it must have taken her quite a while to die before that.
’

Angela looked sober, thinking of the unfortunate woman and her violent end.

‘
What about the cloak room ticket?
’
she said.
‘
Have you had any luck with that?
’

He told her about the handbill and the photograph that had been found in the suitcase.

‘
Then she had a child?
’
said Angela.

‘
Not necessarily,
’
he said.
‘
Perhaps the picture is of a nephew or other relative.
’

‘
It
’
s possib
le, I suppose,
’
she said.
‘
I wonder, though. It will be very sad if a child has been deprived of his mother because of this. And what about the handbill?
’

‘
I have it here,
’
he said, feeling in an inside pocket.
‘
Ah, yes.
’
He brought out the much-folded scr
ap of paper and handed it to her, and she read it curiously.

‘
The Copernicus Club? I believe I
’
ve heard of it,
’
she said.
‘
Isn
’
t it owned by Mrs. Chang? I
’
ve read about her in the newspapers. She keeps getting arrested for serving alcohol after hours, I se
em to remember.
’

‘
That
’
s her,
’
he said.
‘
She
’
s a clever soul. The Copernicus is rather a haunt of the upper classes and the bright young people, you see, and the police raids and the arrests make the clientele feel terribly rakish and daring. I
’
m sure it
’
s
deliberate on her part
—
all part of the club
’
s public image, one might say. She can easily afford the fines, and every time she is arrested the story gets into the papers and increases her notoriety.
’

‘
And you think our mysterious woman may have worked at the Copernicus as a dance hostess?
’

‘
I think it
’
s entirely possible. She had several well-worn evening-frocks in her suitcase in addition to the handbill. But I
’
ve spoken to Mrs. Chang and her son, and
either they could not or they would not tell me anything. It was impossible to get anything out of her, in particular
—
she
’
s an old hand and knows exactly what she
’
s doing. Her clashes with the licensing authorities have become a bit of a joke, but there a
r
e rumours that the girls who work at the Copernicus do more than just dance with the male clients, and if Mrs. Chang were to be found guilty of running a disorderly house
—
well, that would be a much more serious risk to her business. Johnny Chang, though
—
h
e
’
s younger and less experienced, and perhaps less hardened than his mother. I got the impression that he knew something, although obviously he wouldn
’
t admit to it, so we had to come away none the wiser. After that we sent in a plain-clothes chap to mingl
e
with the throng for a few nights, but they must have been on the lookout for him and spotted him immediately, since he got nothing out of anyone. Evidently they
’
d all been warned not to talk, because they simply “
clammed up”
, as I believe our American fr
i
ends say, whenever he tried to broach the subject.
’

‘
I see,
’
said Angela, gazing at the advertisement thoughtfully.
‘
Then you are no further forward in your search for our dead woman.
’

‘
I wouldn
’
t quite say that,
’
said Jameson.
‘
We are checking the missing
persons lists, and of course the story has been published in most of the newspapers, so something might come of that. The Littlechurch police are making exhaustive inquiries at their end, in case anybody saw her there. And don
’
t think we
’
ve given up on t
h
e Copernicus Club either
—
it
’
s the only real clue we have up to now. We shall get someone to talk by fair means or foul, you
’
ll see.
’

Just then, their food arrived and they were silent for some minutes. Angela was thinking about what she had just heard. So
the dead woman had been deliberately poisoned, had she? That certainly put a different aspect on the matter. No longer did it look like a sordid but unpremeditated tragedy
—
no, somebody had actually taken the trouble to administer a deadly poison with deli
b
erate intent, and then, once the woman was dead, had struck blow after blow to her face with terrible violence and cast her corpse aside to lie undiscovered forever. Except Angela and William had discovered it not long afterwards. How unlucky for the kill
e
r, Angela thought. She wondered whether he was anxiously reading the newspapers every day for fresh developments in the case, listening and starting at every knock on the door. A thought struck her.

‘
I wonder,
’
she said hesitantly.
‘
Might it have been suic
ide?
’

Jameson looked sceptical.

‘
Do you mean she killed herself, but then someone else found her and disfigured her face? Why should anyone do that?
’

‘
I don
’
t know,
’
said Angela.
‘
I was just looking at possibilities.
’

‘
Well, until we know who she was it
’
s
going to be difficult to make any deductions,
’
said the inspector.

‘
That
’
s true enough,
’
said Angela.

They talked of other matters until the end of lunch, then Jameson looked at his watch regretfully.

‘
No peace to the wicked,
’
he said.
‘
I must go, I
’
m afra
id. The superintendent is expecting me at three o
’
clock. I dare say he wants to complain about something.
’

‘
Thank you so much for lunch,
’
said Angela,
‘
and good luck with your murder hunt. I only wish there were something I might do to help.
’