‘So you think that the murder was committed in the semi-darkness, so it might have been quite dark before he had cleaned up and taken to the cliff path?’
‘Yes, and thought he had thrown the leather case safely away.’
‘Of course,’ said the detective-inspector, ‘there’s no proof yet that a scalpel was the murder weapon, you know. There is no doubt the case was stolen from that loft, but the thief may have decided that what he had stolen might identify him if he tried to sell it. He may not have known what the scalpels were, but I suppose he realised they were no ordinary implements. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he chucked away all the contents of the doctor’s bag and simply sold the bag itself. I must find out from the Rant daughters whether their father’s initials were on the bag.’
‘The bag won’t matter all that much if one of the scalpels was not the murder weapon,’ said Laura.
‘Ah, well, we shall know more about that when Forensic have had their go, Mrs Gavin.’ His sergeant, who had remained in the police car which had brought him to Abbots Crozier, departed with him and Laura rejoined Dame Beatrice and asked what came next on the agenda. Dame Beatrice replied that a visit to the Rants, the real reason for their stay in Abbots Crozier, was the next item.
‘There are some questions I want to put to them and to Susan,’ she said. ‘Now that we have had this second death, a pattern begins to emerge.’
‘As how? One took place soon after dawn at Watersmeet and was a drowning following severe concussion; the other must have happened at dusk in Rocky Valley and was caused by a throat-slitting. There is still a doubt, even, as to whether the first death was a murder at all, but there is certainly no doubt about the second one. I don’t see much of a pattern emerging. The only thing common to both is that Susan seems to have been involved in some way. She found the first body and was told about the second one.’
‘Your comments are very just. Do you think it rather more than coincidence that two unnatural deaths have occurred within such a short period of time so near a village as small as Abbots Crozier?’
‘Well, there are all these holiday visitors around and about. Apparently, one of them found the second body. Who is to say that he himself wasn’t the murderer of Ozymandias? Do you think I might ring up Axehead and ask what they know about the chap? After all, they owe me something for finding the scalpels for them.’
‘True, but if you had not found them, I think somebody else would have done so and might have thought it necessary to hand them over to the police.’
‘Somebody who knew what they were and that a doctor had lost them? Yes, I suppose that’s more than likely. The case has already had a fair amount of coverage in the press, so anybody who found anything unusual would feel bound to report it, just as I did. Besides, by now those Guides will be having a whale of a time telling all and sundry how they helped the police at the place where the murder was committed, and hunting for a knife must have given them a thrill which it would be ridiculous to expect them to keep to themselves.’
‘Knives may not have been specified definitely, but I agree with your conclusions.’
‘The murderer may have been among that knot of gawpers who were at the roadside watching operations when we arrived. I say, do you think there was something a bit fishy about my meeting Morpeth this morning?’
‘In what way? She had two of the hounds with her and we know that the dogs were exercised daily by the sisters and Susan.’
‘Exercising the hounds on that cliff path instead of on the open moor sounds a very unusual proceeding, especially as the path is narrow and so many holidaymakers use it.’
‘I expect the hounds had already taken exercise on the open moor and that Morpeth had decided to walk into the near part of the valley and go home by the pleasantest route.’
‘Well, do I ring up and ask about the hiker?’
‘I think not. Let’s talk first to the Rant Sisters. After that — ’
‘Jam tomorrow and jam yesterday, but never jam today,’ said Laura. ‘I was looking forward to getting a bit of exclusive information, but you know best.’
12
Information From Crozier Lodge
« ^ »
I had better telephone Bryony and say that you want to see the sisters,’ said Laura. ‘ How shall I put it?’
‘Put it that we would like them to dine with us here tonight.’
‘What about Susan? She usually has supper with them. Is she invited, too?’
‘Certainly. Tell them half-past six for a seven o’clock dinner. If they accept, reserve a table for four or five. I have doubts whether Susan will accept.’
‘Clothes, I suppose,’ said Laura. ‘People are so sensitive about appearing in public looking different from everybody else, but surely she’s got a summer frock or something.’
Susan turned down the invitation. She did not like hotel food, Bryony reported. Laura offered to pick up the sisters and convey them to the hotel, but Bryony pointed out that they had their own car and that if Laura picked them up she would also feel compelled to drive them home later.
‘Sorry about Susan,’ said Laura, politely but insincerely, when she met them in the hotel vestibule. She had not taken much of a liking to the blunt-featured kennel-maid.
Dame Beatrice was more truthful than Laura had been. ‘You will be able to talk more freely in Susan’s absence,’ she said. Bryony looked enquiringly at her and then asked whether the invitation had strings to it, a question which appeared to shock her sister, but which Dame Beatrice answered with equanimity. ‘Certainly,’ she said, ‘but I hope you will enjoy your dinner none the less. The cooking here is excellent and the service good.’
‘Since you are going to pump us, you are right in thinking that Susan’s presence might have been embarrassing,’ said-Morpeth. ‘She is not going back to her cottage tonight. She seems unusually nervous since she knew about the murder in the valley. She will barricade herself in our house with two of the hounds to keep her company and hope that we shall not be home too late.’
‘Then,’ said Laura impulsively and, this time, sincerely, ‘I do wish she had come with you. It must be rotten to feel scared.’
‘Yes,’ agreed the tender-hearted Morpeth, ‘we ought not to leave her too long alone in the house. Don’t forget about the prowler and — ’
‘But we haven’t seen or heard him lately, ’ said Bryony, ‘and Susan will be quite all right with Osiris and Amon in the house.’
‘What has to be said can be begun at the dinner-table and finished over coffee in the lounge,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘It should not take long.’
‘I am all apprehension,’ said Morpeth.
‘Don’t be silly,’ said her stronger-minded sister. ‘What could Dame Beatrice have to talk about that should make you apprehensive?’
By nine o’clock the session was over, the questions had been asked and answered and the sisters were on their way home. So adroitly and tactfully had Dame Beatrice steered the conversation that not even Bryony realised how much had been revealed of life at Crozier Lodge before Dr Rant’s death, Dr Mortlake’s departure and the arrival of Susan.
That it had not been a happy household Dame Beatrice already knew, but there were details which, so far, had remained undisclosed. One of these was that, soon after he had taken the post of assistant to Dr Rant — it was never called a partnership — Mortlake had proposed marriage to Bryony.
Whether Bryony had ever thought of marriage up to that point she did not disclose, but apparently she had turned down the young doctor’s offer with some firmness.
Dr Mortlake had received the dismissal of his proposal gracefully, but with a veiled indication that he had not given up hope and that the offer would be renewed later. This, however, stated Bryony, had not come about, for shortly afterwards Mrs Rant became very ill, so that during what everybody foresaw would be a terminal disorder, anything in the nature of lovemaking seemed to Bryony to be completely out of place and she had indicated this to Mortlake in ways which could not be misinterpreted.