The Riddle at Gipsy's Mile (An Angela Marchmont Mystery 4) (23 page)

‘
What?
’
he said.
‘
You would destroy our work? Are you mad? It is great crime to destroy art. Art does not answer to conventions of society but stands alone and speaks for itself. You are worse tha
n Bolsheviks!
’

‘
Now, we
’
ll have none of that,
’
said the sergeant, who was not entirely sure what Bolsheviks meant but suspected that it might be rude from the sound of it. He stepped forward to throw his own coat over another sculpture, but Marguerite clun
g to his arm and let out a wail.

‘
Please, madam,
’
said Spillett. He shook her off, possibly more roughly than he had intended to. At this, Vassily gave another roar, threw his arms around the sergeant and wrestled him to the floor. There were screams and c
ries as everybody tried to get out of the way, and P. C. Bass flapped around uselessly, at a loss, as Sergeant Spillett curled up and tried to fend off the young sculptor
’
s pummelling.

‘
I say, this won
’
t do,
’
cried Freddy, alarmed. He rushed forward and be
gan pulling at Vassily
’
s jacket, in an attempt to get him off the policeman. Vassily resisted for a few moments, then stood up, causing Freddy to topple backwards and knock against a tall stand on which was displayed the final and most splendid piece in V
a
ssily
’
s
Eternity of the Damned
series, a tortured nude about eighteen inches high.

There was a collective gasp of dismay, followed by a dead silence as everybody watched the stand rock violently. Three times it swayed from side to side, then, just as it lo
oked as though all might be safe, Freddy made a last-second grab to try and steady it
—
but instead caught the sculpture itself with his arm. The statue teetered dangerously for a second or two, then toppled off its perch. It seemed to take forever to hit t
h
e ground, but finally it landed with a great thud, and there was a loud
‘
Oh!
’
from the crowd as the head detached itself from the body and skittered off across the floor. Nobody spoke. Freddy looked fearfully at Vassily, whose expression was not unlike th
a
t on the face of the statue which had just been so rudely decapitated.

‘
I say, I
’
m most awfully sorry,
’
he said feebly.

Vassily, white in the face, put his hands to his hair and pulled at it as though not quite knowing what he did, then he turned slowly to
face Freddy. The roar started low within his belly, but quickly gathered momentum and was finally given full vent as he opened his mouth to release it. Freddy cringed and then turned to run, but Vassily was too quick for him and, with a mighty leap, brou
g
ht him down and began raining blows upon his head.

It was as though pandemonium had been let loose. People screamed and ran for the door, glasses were kicked over and crushed under-foot, and the vicar stood at the side of the room, wringing his hands. Mile
s and Gil hustled a shocked Lady Alice out of the way, while Marguerite fainted dead into the arms of William, who had just at that moment come in to find out whether he was wanted yet. He held onto her in astonishment; then, as nobody seemed inclined to
t
ell him what to do with her, scooped her up and carried her outside.

Meanwhile, Sergeant Spillett had been pulled to his feet by P. C. Bass and was looking about him in confusion, wanting to restore order but not knowing where to begin. However, as most pe
ople had now made it out of the place, there was little left for him to do except to enlist one or two burly farmers to help him and Bass overpower Vassily. The young artist was finally borne away, struggling violently and swearing loudly in several langu
a
ges, and Freddy was left lying on the floor, groaning. Angela picked her way through the mess and looked down at him.

‘
Are you still alive?
’
she said.

He squinted up at her.

‘
I
’
m not entirely sure,
’
he said weakly.

She held out a hand and helped him to his
feet. He staggered a little, then tested his jaw gingerly to see whether Vassily had broken it. Apparently the investigation produced a satisfactory result, for he then bent down stiffly and began to brush himself off.

‘
No broken bones, as far as I can te
ll,
’
he remarked.

‘
Well, it would serve you jolly well right if there were,
’
said Angela severely.

Freddy assumed an injured expression.

‘
It was an accident!
’
he said.
‘
You must have seen that. I was trying to rescue poor old Spillett from that idiot Vassi
ly. It wasn
’
t my fault I lost my balance and knocked the dratted statue over.
’

‘
You know very well that
’
s not what I meant,
’
said Angela.
‘
I saw exactly what you did earlier. For shame, Freddy! How could you do it?
’

Freddy opened his mouth to argue, but wa
s forestalled by a commotion nearby. They turned and saw a little group of people, among them Miles, Gil and Lucy, fussing over Lady Alice, who had apparently been taken ill. She was led to a chair, clutching her heart, and given some water to drink.

‘
Some
body fetch a doctor immediately,
’
commanded Lucy, who was busy chafing the old lady
’
s wrists.

‘
Oh, dear me,
’
said the vicar.
‘
Dr. Burns was here earlier. Perhaps he is still outside. I shall go and see.
’
He hurried off.

Gil was standing to one side, lookin
g ashen-faced.

‘
Is there anything we can do to help?
’
said Angela in concern.
‘
Lady Alice, you must be cold. Let me bring you your coat.
’

‘
Thank you, but there is really nothing wrong with me,
’
said Lady Alice, although she looked anything but well.

‘
I
’
ll
get it,
’
said Gil, relieved to be able to do something. He brought the coat and placed it tenderly over his mother
’
s shoulders.

The doctor arrived, took one look at Lady Alice and pronounced that she must be put to bed immediately. Nobody was inclined to d
isagree, so the old lady was escorted out gently and taken home in the Blakeneys
’
stately old Wolseley, while the doctor followed in his own car, leaving Miles, Freddy and Angela to survey the damage wrought by the stampede.

‘
That was a little more eventfu
l than I expected,
’
said Miles finally.

‘
I say, I hope Lady Alice is going to be all right,
’
said Freddy. He looked worried.
‘
Is it her heart, do you think? I hope the
—
er
—
fracas didn
’
t set her off.
’

‘
I couldn
’
t say,
’
said Miles.
‘
Come on, we had better get
home. There will be all kinds of hell to pay tomorrow if I
’
m not much mistaken.
’

He strode out. Angela glanced at Freddy, who was still looking upset.

‘
I hope she
’
s going to be all right,
’
he repeated.

The next day at breakfast, they had word
from Blakeney Park that Lady Alice was seriously ill and unable to speak to anyone. Marguerite sent her sympathies and offers of help, although there did not seem to be much that they could do: the old woman
’
s personal physician had been summoned from to
w
n, and she was receiving the best care that a healthy income could pay for. All they could do now was hope that she would somehow find the inner resources to pull through.

In reality, Marguerite had little attention to spare for the Blakeneys
’
plight, sinc
e she was more immediately concerned about the disastrous ending to her grand exhibition opening, and the possibility that her works would be destroyed
—
not to mention the effect the whole fiasco might be expected to have on her artistic reputation. Moreov
e
r, there was the awkward but unavoidable fact that her proté
gé
, Vassily, was now sullenly enduring the hospitality of the local police, and must somehow be dealt with. The Littlechurch police seemed inclined to take a dim view of his unprovoked attack on
o
ne of their number
—
being perhaps less accustomed to this sort of high-spirited behaviour than the police in London
—
and were making noises about arraigning him on an assault and battery charge. Nothing could be done about him until Monday, but in the meant
i
me the church hall needed clearing up, and so immediately after breakfast Marguerite prepared to set off and begin work.

‘
By the way, darling,
’
she said carelessly to Angela,
‘
would you mind awfully if I borrowed William? A strong young man will be just th
e thing to help me clear away all that mess.
’

‘
By all means,
’
said Angela, smiling to herself. She looked across at Freddy to see his reaction, but he seemed absorbed in his own thoughts and had not heard the exchange. Shortly afterwards he got up and slun
k out of the room. Angela decided it was time to have a word with him, and so rose and followed him into the parlour. She shut the door behind her and he looked up warily.

‘
Oh, it
’
s you,
’
he said.
‘
Have you come to gloat?
’

‘
Why on earth should I gloat?
’
sa
id Angela.
‘
You got yourself into a mess and now you
’
re worried that someone is going to die because of it. What is there to gloat about?
’

‘
That ass, Vassily,
’
said Freddy crossly.
‘
It
’
s because of him that the whole thing got out of hand. If he
’
d only kep
t his temper then everyone would have filed out calmly like good boys and girls and nobody would have had a heart attack.
’

‘
But why did you do it?
’
said Angela.

‘
Why, because I wanted a story, of course,
’
said Freddy, as though the answer were perfectly ob
vious.
‘
They
’
ve come to expect it of me. After that article I wrote about the Copernicus, and the one about leading the police to Johnny Chang, I was the golden boy in old Bickerstaffe
’
s view
—
why, I could do no wrong. I felt almost as though I could walk
o
n water. Every time I went out to report on a story, something exciting happened and I got a scoop. But in the last week or two things have quietened down and I haven
’
t had so much as a bite of a scandal, and then they sent me to write about a sculpture e
x
hibition of all things, in a tiny town in the middle of nowhere, where there was absolutely no chance of anything interesting happening, so I thought I
’
d better try and
—
well
—
spice things up a bit. But I swear I never meant the thing to turn into a free-fo
r
-all. I only meant for the police to shut it down and for everyone to leave quietly, then I should have got a nice little story and stayed in Bickerstaffe
’
s good books, while Marguerite would have got some first-rate publicity
—
you know how the man in the
s
treet loves an outrage to public decency.
’

‘
So you got that man to make an official complaint to the police,
’
said Angela.

‘
Yes. The old fellow is a regular trouble-maker about these parts, as I understand it, and is always looking out for an opportunity t
o make money to fund his ten pints a day, so I slipped him a couple of quid on condition that he do the business. It was all going swimmingly, but then Vassily lost his head and set off a riot, and now you
’
re going to tell everyone and if the old woman di
e
s I suppose they
’
ll all blame me for having given her heart failure,
’
he finished petulantly.

‘
Freddy, have you any morals at all?
’
said Angela, shaking her head in exasperation.

‘
Of course I have,
’
he returned indignantly.
‘
I
’
ll admit that I
’
m not above t
aking a short-cut or two, but there is a line that I will not cross.
’

‘
You wouldn
’
t know it,
’
said Angela.
‘
So am I to understand that you deliberately arranged the fight at the Copernicus Club?
’

‘
Oh, no, that was quite genuine,
’
Freddy assured her.
‘
If yo
u
’
d known Gertie as long as I have you
’
d know that that sort of thing tends to follow her around.
’

‘
And Johnny Chang?
’
said Angela, a horrid feeling stealing over her.
‘
I hope you didn
’
t pay that waiter to make up stories about him.
’

‘
Of course I didn
’
t!
’
he said, outraged.
‘
How could you even suggest such a thing? Listen,
’
he went on,
‘
I really did start out well in the job, you know. But I had started to feel that I had to keep on delivering the goods if I were to prove myself worthy. Truly, Angela, I pr
o
mise on my honour that last night was the first time I had ever tried something of this kind.
’

‘
Well, it had better be the last, too,
’
said Angela.
‘
Look at how you ruined things for poor Marguerite.
’

‘
Oh, she
’
ll get over it,
’
said Freddy.
‘
She
’
s not the t
ype to dwell on her sorrows. And I
’
m sorry about Vassily
’
s statue, but
—
well, it serves him right for being such a hot-headed ass. I do hope Lady Alice gets better soon, though. I don
’
t mind admitting that I feel rather a worm about that. You won
’
t tell an
y
body, will you, Angela?
’
he said suddenly.
‘
I
’
ve learned my lesson, and I promise I
’
ll be a good boy from now on.
’

‘
Very well,
’
said Angela reluctantly, seeing that he was genuinely contrite.
‘
But I shall be keeping an eye on you, and if I find out that yo
u have been getting up to any more tricks I shall tell Marguerite about what you did.
’

‘
Thank you. Now that
’
s two things you have to blackmail me about,
’
said Freddy, with a return to his usual good humour.
‘
Tell me
—
when do I get to blackmail
you
?
’

‘
Never.
I live a life of unparalleled virtue,
’
said Angela.
‘
Compared to you, at any rate,
’
she added.

Freddy pulled a face and went out. Angela followed him slowly, shaking her head. She was not at all sure that she had done the right thing in agreeing to keep q
uiet, but consoled herself when she saw Freddy making efforts to commiserate with Marguerite later, and heard him offer to write about the exhibition without mentioning either the possible prosecution for obscenity or the subsequent brawl. It was an empty
gesture, she knew, since it would be difficult to prevent Cynthia from dwelling on it in gleeful detail in her society column; still, it showed that Freddy was sincere in his repentance
—
at least for the present.

Angela went back up to London on Monday, and
on Tuesday dined with Inspector Jameson, who frankly admitted that the case against Johnny Chang was looking very weak, since they had been unable to find any evidence of his having ever gone to Kent; moreover, one of the waiters at the Copernicus Club w
a
s almost sure that he had seen Johnny on one of the days in question, coming downstairs from his mother
’
s flat and into his own
—
although he would not swear to it.

‘
I don
’
t like it at all,
’
he said,
‘
and I don
’
t mind telling you that I should rather let a m
urderer go free than hang the wrong man.
’

‘
Do you think you have got the wrong man, then?
’
said Angela, who had been wondering how to approach the subject.

The inspector sighed.

‘
It
’
s a poser, I admit it,
’
he said.
‘
Of course, the affair between them mean
s that he is far and away the most likely suspect, but there are so many things we still don
’
t know. Was he the only man Lita was meeting, for example? Nobody has been willing to give us any other names, but she must have come into contact with lots of me
n
in her job at the club. And then there is the fact that we have very little information about her last few hours. If only we knew why she had gone down to Kent, and what she did when she got there. However,
’
he went on,
‘
to answer your question
—
although
l
ogic says Johnny Chang must have done it, I myself am not convinced of it. I never rely on my intuition, but I have often found it to be correct in the past.
’

‘
It
’
s a pity no handbag was found,
’
said Angela, thinking.
‘
There might have been a clue there. I
wonder what happened to it. She must have had one at one time, since she was carrying no money or anything in her pockets. But yes,
’
she went on.
‘
I
’
m afraid I agree with you, inspector. I don
’
t think Johnny Chang did it either.
’

‘
Well, it
’
ll be a hell of
a job trying to find out who
did
do it,
’
said Jameson glumly.

‘
What about her brother? Was he unable to help in any way? I assume she never told him about her men friends.
’