They Found Him Dead (16 page)

"Yes, and do you know what happened to him, Auntie Rosemary?" asked Jennifer eagerly. "He got out on to the road, and a motorcar came and killed him flat!"

"He was squashed!" corroborated Peter with enthusiasm.

"I can't think who told them that!" said Betty in an annoyed voice. "I mean, I've always been so careful not to let them know anything about Death and that sort of thing."

For the next quarter of an hour all conversation between the two ladies was punctuated by admonitions from Betty to her children and answering whines from them that there was nothing to do. Fortunately for Rosemary's temper she caught sight of one of the gardeners and had the happy thought of consigning the children to his care. They went off with him, followed by a fire of affectionate reminders not to get hot, or cold, or overtired, or dirty, and were not seen again until teatime, the entertainment offered by the gardener being of a high order, namely, the plucking and drawing of a fowl killed that morning.

While Rosemary was unburdening herself to Betty Pemble in the garden, Jim Kane was confronting Paul Mansell in the library and thinking privately that he was a fairly nasty piece of work.

Upon arrival at Cliff House Paul had stayed only to greet Rosemary before going into the house. Pritchard had shown him into the library, where Jim presently joined him, and after a slight interchange of civilities he had broached the object of his talk. His father and he, though averse from obtruding the matter so soon, were anxious to know what the chief shareholder's policy was to be.

Jim laughed and shook his head. "No use asking me that yet, Mansell. I haven't had time to find my feet. Nets aren't much in my line, you know."

"Quite. We quite appreciate that," smiled Paul, crossing one leg over the other and gently swinging a suede-clad foot. "I expect it would suit you best to let Dad buy you out. You don't want to be bothered by business. I know I wouldn't touch it if I were in your place."

This was the conclusion Jim had already reached, but he now felt an irrational disinclination to leave the business in the Mansells' hands. He said: "No, I don't think I want to be bought out, thanks. How would you and your father feel about turning it into a public company?"

Paul Mansell put up his brows. "Rather a large question to answer offhand, isn't it? I don't know that I think Dad would quite cotton on to the idea. I really haven't considered it. What I came about—assuming that you don't wish to get out of having anything to do with the business—was to talk over the new venture with you. I don't know whether you've been told anything about our Australian scheme?"

"A certain amount," replied Jim.

"Ah, perhaps I had better explain it to you!" Paul said languidly.

Jim heard the explanation out, merely interrupting once or twice to put a question. His questions were so pertinent that Paul began to realise that this big cheerful young man was not the fool he had supposed him to be. His eyes narrowed a little; his voice grew more suave.

"On the face of it, it looks good," Jim admitted when Paul Mansell had done. "At the same time, I know next to nothing about the business, and I want to go into things before I start making any decisions. I take it you don't expect me to give you an answer offhand?"

"I think," said Paul gently, "that it would be wisest for you to allow yourself to be guided by us."

All trace of his smile left Jim's face. The muscles about his mouth hardened, giving him a slightly pugnacious expression. He looked steadily into Paul's eyes and said with deliberation: "Do you?"

Paul made a graceful gesture with one hand. "My dear fellow, haven't you just said that you know nothing about the business?"

"Next to nothing," said Jim.

Paul smiled. "I stand corrected. There isn't really much difference, is there?"

"Not much," replied Jim. "Just that I am aware that Silas and Clement, whether rightly or wrongly, disliked the scheme."

"Your cousin Silas," countered Paul, "was an old man with strong prejudices, and your cousin Clement, if I may say so, was handicapped by a wife who could never get enough money to spend. Do forgive me if I am being too frank!"

"Not at all," said Jim with equal courtesy. "You may very likely be right in all you say of this scheme. But I'm sure you'll realise that, in the face of my cousins' known dislike of it, I should have to be a thundering fool to go into it without knowing anything more about it than what you've told me."

"You are as cautious as your cousins, I see. May I point out to you that while you are—er—acquiring a knowledge of the business, the opportunity to expand it will have gone? Roberts has been very patient, but he is not acting for himself and cannot be expected to wait for ever."

"Certainly," said Jim. "But may I in my turn remind you that I came into this inheritance without the least warning only two days ago? From what I've seen of Roberts, I should say he would be the last person to want to hustle me into the affair without going into it thoroughly first."

Paul Mansell uncrossed his legs and rose. "Then I am to tell my father that the matter must still rest in abeyance?"

"That's about the size of it," said Jim. "I shall hope to see Mr. Mansell in a day or two. There's more than this point to be discussed. You'll stay to tea, won't you?"

"I'm afraid I must get back to the office, thanks. My brother-in-law will no doubt call for his family on his way home from the golf course." He paused, and his eyes glinted a little. "By the way, I understand that I have to congratulate you on becoming engaged to Patricia Allison?"

"Thanks very much, yes," said Jim.

"You are fortunate," smiled Paul. "A charming girl—so sensible too! Do offer her my congratulations! One ought not to congratulate the lady, I believe, but in this case I really think congratulations are due to her."

"You almost overwhelm me," said Jim pleasantly and held the door open for him to pass out into the hall.

He went out into the porch to see his visitor drive away and was about to go back into the house when a taxi drove up the avenue and set down a middle-aged gentleman of lean proportions and expensive tailoring, who said placidly: "Ah, there you are! I fancy I must have forgotten to let you know I was coming."

"Hullo, Adrian!" said Jim, stepping forward to greet the newcomer. "Where on earth did you spring from? I thought you were in Scotland!"

Sir Adrian Harte paid the taxi driver, saw his suitcases safely in the hands of Pritchard, who had appeared as if by magic at the sound of an approaching car, and walked into the house beside his stepson. "My dear boy, in this weather?" he asked plaintively.

Jim, no fisherman, apologised. "I forgot. When did you get back to town?"

"Yesterday evening," replied Sir Adrian. "I thought I had better come down and see what was happening here." He put his monocle into his eye and glanced at Jim with a pained, faintly inquiring expression. "Rather unusual, isn't it?"

"It is a bit, sir," said Jim. "Not altogether pleasant, either."

"Ah no, I dare say not," agreed Sir Adrian. "I have never been mixed up in a murder case myself, but I imagine the situation must be very disagreeable. A pity you should have been here at the time. I don't know what your mother will say."

"How is Mother?" asked Jim. "Have you had any news of her?"

"No," said Sir Adrian, preceding him into the library, "not a word. I wondered whether you might not have had a letter."

"Nothing since the card she sent from that illegible address. What do you suppose can have happened to her?"

"I've no idea," replied Sir Adrian. "If your mother were not such an erratic letter-writer, I should consider it really rather disturbing. However, I've no doubt there is some perfectly ordinary explanation for her silence." He sank into a chair. "Well, my dear boy, you had better tell me all about it. I imagine you are not, at the moment, in a very enviable position."

"No, not entirely," said Jim. "The evidence all seems to point my way. I don't think the police can bring themselves to believe that I really had no idea I was the next heir."

"I confess I was rather surprised that you were apparently ignorant of the fact," remarked Sir Adrian.

"Did you know, sir?"

"Oh yes; I'm sure your mother told me the rights of it years ago. If it is not a vulgar question, how much do you inherit?"

"I'm not altogether sure. Cousin Silas left close on a quarter of a million, but the death duties are colossal."

"I expect there will be enough left for your simple needs," said Sir Adrian.

Jim grinned. "More than enough, I should think. But my needs aren't going to be quite so simple in the future. I'm engaged to be married."

Sir Adrian looked mildly surprised. "Dear me, are you? I don't think you mentioned that in your letter, did you?"

"No, I didn't think it went well, cheek by jowl with the announcement of Clement's death."

"Ah, artistic discrimination! Have I the pleasure of knowing the lady?"

"Rather, sir! It's Patricia Allison, Aunt Emily's companion."

Sir Adrian frowned slightly. "I don't think I've met her."

"Yes, you have, Adrian, the last time you were here."

"If you say so, no doubt it is so. I find, as I grow older, that people make very little impression on me. Is this what your mother would consider a suitable alliance?"

"Very much so, I assure you."

"I feel sure you know your own business best," said Sir Adrian. "By the way, didn't I send Timothy here?"

"You did, and he's very much here."

"Yes, I thought I did. I couldn't recall, when I got back to town, what arrangements I had made, but it occurred to me on the train that I must have sent him here. To turn to more important matters, have you come across old Mr. Kane's stamp collection?"

"No, had he got one?"

"My dear Jim!" Sir Adrian sounded genuinely shocked. "He had a unique collection. I have on more than one occasion offered to buy at least three of the specimens from Silas, who, I may say, had no feeling for them other than a purely Kane desire to hold fast to his possessions. I will buy them from you, if you like to sell."

"Good Lord, Adrian, you can have the whole collection, if you want it! It doesn't mean a thing to me."

"I shan't impose on your innocence as much as that," replied Sir Adrian with a faint smile.

The door opened at this moment to admit Timothy, who bounced in, saying: "I say, Jim, I've asked Mr. Roberts—oh, hullo, Father! I didn't see you." He went up to shake his parent by the hand. "I quite thought you'd gone to Scotland. How did you get here?"

"My arrival seems to cause you and Jim a great deal of quite unmerited surprise," said Sir Adrian. "I had five days of unbroken sunshine and then came home."

"Oh, I see! I say, Jim, I've asked Mr. Roberts in to tea. Is it all right? I met him outside the cinema, and he asked whether I thought you'd mind him coming up to see you some time. You don't, do you? I told him I knew you wouldn't."

"And, as you see, I took him at his word and ventured to come," said Oscar Roberts from the open doorway. "But you've only to say the word and I'll catch the next bus back to Portlaw."

"Of course not! Do come in!" said Jim. "Adrian, may I introduce Mr. Roberts? My stepfather, Sir Adrian Harte, sir."

"Pleased to meet you, Sir Adrian. Your son and I have been getting along fine together—or rather we were till this durned sergeant from Scotland Yard came and cut me right out of the picture," he added with a twinkle.

"Oh, I say, sir, that's not fair!" protested Timothy. "It was only that I wanted to see how a detective really works."

Oscar Roberts dropped a hand on his shoulder and pressed it. "Sure you did, sonny. I was only kidding. Well, I fancy you don't want a stranger butting in on your family party, Mr. Kane. Maybe if I came along tomorrow——"

Sir Adrian said: "I seem to be in the way. I'm sure you would like some private conversation with my stepson, Mr. Roberts. I was just about to go up to my room. You may come with me, Timothy."

He bore Timothy off with him. Oscar Roberts took the chair his host pushed forward and said: "I've not come to persuade you into falling in with my proposition."

Jim laughed. "Thank God for that!"

"Yes, I thought you'd perhaps be receiving a visit from one or other of your partners." He accepted a cigar from the box Jim held out to him and sought in his pocket for his cutter. As he lit the cigar he said, peering at Jim through the smoke: "Say, I'd like us to be frank, Kane."

"By all means."

Roberts leaned forward to lay his dead match in the ashtray on the table. "That certainly makes it easier to say what I want to. I wouldn't like you to get me wrong over this little business deal I'm trying to put through. If I can get them, I want Kane and Mansell's nets for my firm to handle down under. But I'm not out to start a general holocaust all to get the best when the next-best will suit pretty near as well."

"I beg your pardon?" Jim stiffened a little.

The cool, calculating eyes did not waver. "Guess we'll leave it at that, Kane. There's been some mighty queer happenings in this house, and I'm bound to admit they seem to hang together a piece with my coming onto the scene. Maybe that's just a coincidence; maybe it's not. But I'd like to have you know that I'm not pressing your partners for an answer. I've a notion they'll try and put the screw on you. Well, I'm not turning it. I certainly shall be glad to get the matter settled one way or the other, but I appreciate your position, and I wouldn't be the one to push you into a deal you don't properly understand and might regret. That's no way to do business. I like to have you think it over and get some impartial advice. You won't keep me waiting any longer than is reasonable. I'll treat myself to a little vacation."