Blanche showed the sergeant into the large, spacious lounge.
A moment later, after a whispered conversation, Jennifer joined the sergeant. Hadley and Adams also went into the lounge, quite unseen.
“Mrs. Hadley?”
“Yes. I’m Mrs. Hadley.”
“I’m afraid I’ve got bad news, Mrs. Hadley.”
Jennifer waited, and the sergeant went on, “It’s your husband. His car was involved in an accident last night, at approximately one in the morning.”
“But what happened to him? I’m not interested in the car.”
The sergeant shifted uneasily, “We don’t really know. That’s why I’m here. You see, two cars were involved in a collision. But only one of the drivers was found there when an ambulance got to the spot. We think the other driver must have taken a blow on the head and must have gone wandering off somewhere. It sometimes happens in these accident cases.”
“Yes, I understand that. But who is it that was injured?”
“Dead, I’m afraid, Mrs. Hadley. We don’t know. That’s just the point. We’d like you to come down and make an identification. That is to say, if it is Mr. Hadley. We’ve got someone else coming in to check on the other party.”
“Surely you can tell from the position where the body was found? You know which was my husband’s car.”
“We know that. But the cars came together, so that they sort of stuck together. It wasn’t clear just what had happened.”
Shortly after, the sergeant took his leave.
The three, Jennifer, Mike Johnson, and Blanche White discussed this new turn of events. Then Jennifer said, “How soon d’you think we ought to go?”
“Right away. There’s no point in delay, best to get it over with.”
“Mike, I’d rather like to have one of Arthur’s business partners there. So we can talk to him afterwards, in case it happens to be Arthur. I think I’ll call Tony. Suppose you get the car ready.”
Jennifer went off to make the telephone call.
Jonathan Adams walked out of the spacious lounge and out of the front door of The Gables. Hadley ran after him shouting, “Where the hell are you going?”
“The morgue. This will give us a chance to find out what’s really under that sheet. We’ll have to hurry if we’re to get there in time. Maybe you don’t want to come?”
But Hadley decided he would come. Then he wanted to know why they must walk, why they couldn’t ride in the car “Try it if you like, but I think you’ll find there’s no contact.”
On the way into the city, Adams remarked, “I believe I’ve got it straight at last. One of us is going to be under that sheet, dead. The other is going to be found wandering around the countryside, alive.”
“I don’t bloody well understand.”
“I think it isn’t decided yet, whether it’s to be you or me.”
How d’you mean?”
“It’s going to depend on what they want.”
“Who?”
“All of them, of course, when they get there, to the morgue.”
The walk into the city went by very quickly, faster than Hadley could ever remember it. Hadley wasn’t quite sure of exactly which building the morgue was in. But he knew the right street, so they simply waited for Jennifer, Mike Johnson and Blanche White to arrive and followed after them. A police constable escorted the party into a waiting room, where they found the sergeant again. Another man, whom Adams recognized as Jerome Renfrew, was also there. The sergeant made the introductions and then said, “I’ve had a telephone message from Sir Anthony Brown. He says he’ll be here in a few moments. We’ll wait for him if you’re agreeable.”
True to his word, Sir Anthony appeared at about nine-thirty a.m. He was well-tailored, spruce, very nearly in complete contrast to Hadley in every respect.
The sergeant accompanied them into the morgue. Adams heard the clack-clack of their shoes on the hard floor. He expected it would all be over in a flash. The sheet would be whipped away, the decision would irretrievably be made, life or death for him—and death or life for Hadley. No doubt this was what really took place. No doubt the sheet was indeed whipped quickly away. Yet this was not the way it appeared to Adams or to Hadley. The action seemed to stop, as if all the world had stopped, as if an infinity of time was available for past actions to be considered and for human problems to be thought through.
There were five of them: Sir Anthony Brown, Jerome Renfrew, Jennifer Hadley, Mike Johnson, and Blanche White. Adams saw there must be a decision. Surely it must be a vote, nothing else was possible, for there could hardly be unanimity among these five—unanimity as to who they wanted dead and who they wanted alive. Adams was worried he would never know how each person voted. They would hardly speak their innermost thoughts aloud. Then, to his astonishment, he found he could hear those thoughts, he could hear them as each of the five came in turn to a decision. Hadley could hear them, too. Hadley knew what the real issue was now, it all showed in the strained, terrified look on his face.
Sir Anthony Brown was the first. To him there was no issue: “I’ll be ruined if it’s Hadley. The bastard has spread everything too thin, we’re at full stretch. Perhaps Hadley could pull us through, with all his contacts. I’m certain I can’t. Please to God it isn’t Hadley.”
Score: Hadley 1, Adams 0.
Hadley bellowed at the top of his voice. “Good old yellow-bellied Tony. He knows on which side his bread’s buttered.”
Then Jerome Renfrew came up: “I wonder who’ll get Adams’ chair if it’s him. Of course, I can’t hope it’s Adams, not because of his chair. I believe Hadley has a rather unsavory reputation, with young girls of Sally’s age. I can’t say I hope it’s Hadley, but of course I’d prefer it to be Hadley.”
Score: Hadley 1, Adams 1.
“Bugger,” yelled Hadley, sweat on his face now. “One thing I’ll promise you, you bloody fancy-panty, that daughter of yours, that Sally, I’ll have her on her back if it costs me a million quid.”
The real drama started with Jennifer Hadley: “God, what a relief it would be to have him gone, to be free from such a lousy bully.”
Instantly, Hadley was on his knees, whining, “No, Jenny, no, don’t go against me. I’ll give you anything, Mike Johnson, if you like. You can have him every night, every day, if you want. In Christ’s name, don’t kill me, Jenny.”
Quite unaffected by this outburst, Jennifer Hadley went on: “I wonder if Tony’s right. He told me on the phone this morning, the business is certain to go to pieces without Arthur. I haven’t any real property of my own. I’ll get a share in Arthur’s estate, of course, but that wouldn’t be much good if the estate went bankrupt. I suppose I might even be responsible for the debts. I couldn’t face being penniless, not with three young children. The divorce we were talking about this morning really looks much much safer. I’d be just as free from Arthur that way. Of course, it’s pretty rotten to prefer it to be some innocent man instead of Arthur, but nobody could blame me for preferring it not to be my husband.”
Score: Hadley 2, Adams 1.
Then Mike Johnson: “It seems pretty awful to think this way, but if it’s Hadley, I’ll get Jenny, I’ll get everything, the lot. Not that I don’t enjoy sleeping with her, just for its own sake. But after all, she is a few years older than me. And I’d have to put up with Hadley’s children. I wouldn’t like ’em to take after the father, especially the boy. So it’s pretty fair, to get some compensation. Of course, there’s the divorce, but that’s really very chancey. Hadley will do his best to buy off the White girl. So the divorce might not work. This way it’s one hundred percent certain. Besides, I’m sick to the back teeth with Hadley’s foul mouth and temper.”