Complete works of peter.., p.310
Complete Works of Peter Cheyney. Illustrated, page 310
Callaghan said: "All right. So much for Frayle. Now tell me about Lennan."
Varney said: "I was curious about one or two things. I knew that Frayle was going round to Lennan's place fairly early. I wondered whether he was going to take a police officer with him. The other thing I wondered about was whether Lennan would turn up. My own idea was that that boyo was going to make a getaway while the going was good. So I thought I'd satisfy my curiosity on both points."
He drew on his cigarette, inhaled, blew the smoke out slowly. "Just opposite the apartment house where Lennan lives," he said, "a little further down the street, is a tobacconist. I knew the girl in the shop. I planted myself there just before seven o'clock. I watched the entrance of the apartment house. At a couple of minutes to seven—that was the exact time because there's a clock on the wall of the tobacconist's shop—I saw Frayle go in. He was taking the envelope which I suppose contained Lennan's key out of his breast pocket as he went in. I watched. I wanted to see if Lennan was going to turn up. Well, he didn't. I waited till about five and twenty minutes to eight. Then I got fed up. I lit a cigarette and had made up my mind to go off home. Just as I was leaving the shop I saw Lennan come round the corner. He was walking slowly and he certainly looked as if he wasn't looking forward to the interview. I watched him go into the apartment block. Then I went off home."
Callaghan said: "That puts Lennan in the clear. The police doctor's been lucky in this case. He's been able to determine practically exactly the time of death. It was just about seven. So if Lennan didn't turn up till twenty minutes to eight that lets him out."
"That's what I thought," said Varney.
Callaghan said: "The interesting point now is how the murderer whoever he was—got into the flat."
Varney nodded. "Somebody must have got in," he said. "And there were a lot of people who didn't like Frayle."
Callaghan nodded. "A man with many enemies," he said.
Varney got up. "If you want me, or if you want me to tell my story to the police, let me know," he said.
Callaghan said: "I will."
Varney went out.
For an hour after Varney had gone, Callaghan sat, his feet on the desk, blowing smoke rings. He yawned, threw his cigarette stub into the fireplace, took his feet off the desk, reached for the telephone.
When Gringall came on the line, Callaghan said: "About this Frayle thing, I've got an idea."
"You don't say?" said Gringall. "That's strange, isn't it?"
Callaghan said: "Believe it or not, but I have. Listen: there's no other suspect outside Lennan, is there?"
Gringall said: "No! And I don't even know that Lennan is a suspect. I don't think we've got anything on which we can charge Lennan. Incidentally, he was using that rifle to shoot rabbits on the golf course. That's a habit of his. That accounts for it being used. What's in your head, Slim?"
Callaghan said: "This murder is a co-operative business between Lennan and Varney. It's a nice job. It's so good I doubt whether you'll ever prove it."
Gringall said: "Really! Go on."
Callaghan said: "Lennan took Frayle for four thousand pounds. Frayle was more interested in finding out just how Lennan had done that than he was getting the money back. But he was going to get back what money he could from Lennan, promise him immunity, and when he got the story out of him, turn him over to the police. Lennan didn't know that, but Vamey did. Frayle told him, and Varney wasn't going to have that, because he was the man who helped Lennan take Frayle for the four thousand. So they make a little arrangement.
"Everybody is going to suspect Lennan, so they build up a nice case against him. First of all he has a rifle. Secondly, he goes upstairs to the third floor of the Clover Leaf Club which looks out on the hall window of the flat. Thirdly, if it had come to a show-down we'd have found that Lennan only had a few rounds of ammunition when he went on the golf course, and that he used every one of them there. That would have got him out.
"The next thing," Callaghan went on, "is the key. Nobody has got a key to that flat except Frayle, who's inside the flat when he's killed. So he must have been shot from the outside. He was shot from outside. He was shot through the ventilator above the doorway, but in order to do this, Frayle had to be in the hall of the flat. He had to be immediately in line with that ventilator."
Gringall said: "Very interesting. Go on, Slim."
"It's easy," said Callaghan. "Both Varney and Lennan know that there's no attendant in the cloakroom at the Clover Leaf Club, and there's no hall porter in Lennan's apartment block. You got that?"
"I got it," said Gringall.
"At ten minutes to seven," Callaghan went on, "Varney went into Lennan's apartment block, went up to the first floor and hid round the bend in the corridor. He knew that Frayle would be arriving there a few minutes before seven. Frayle arrived and went into the flat. He left his things in the hall, went across and sat down in the drawing-room beyond. While he's doing this Varney places the chair, which Lennan has conveniently left around the turn in the corridor, in front of the flat door.
"At this time Lennan finishes his drink at the Clover Leaf Club, goes upstairs to the cloakroom and rings up his own flat on the telephone from the call box. Frayle comes out to answer the telephone in the hall. Lennan pretends he's got a wrong number. Frayle replaces the receiver and turns away. Then Varney shoots him through the ventilator. He can't miss him. Varney replaces the chair, leaves the apartment block, walks quickly over to the tobacconist's shop where he informs the girl he is going to wait to see if Lennan turns up, the idea being that he has arrived there straight from his house.
"He waits there until twenty minutes to eight in order to alibi Lennan. How do you like that?"
Gringall said: "I like it a lot. I like it so much I'm going to pinch those two birds."
Callaghan said: "Listen, it looks as if I'm getting my own client arrested. Who's going to pay my expenses in this case?"
Gringall said: "I wouldn't know. If you're lucky, I'll buy you a drink. So long, Slim."
7. — THE BIG BLUFF
WHEN Nikolls came in, Callaghan was slumped back in the big leather chair. His feet were on the desk. He was smoking a cigarette, blowing smoke rings, watching them sail across the office. He said: "Well?"
Nikolls said: "She's outside. She's a looker, this baby. She's got something. But she ain't so happy. Are you gonna see her?"
Callaghan said: "Yes, why not? Ask her to come in." He added as an afterthought: "You wouldn't be happy if you were a good-looking woman and your fiancé had just been murdered."
Nikolls said: "No. But I ain't a good-lookin' woman." He grinned. "If I was I wouldn't be workin' here." He went out of the office.
A minute later the girl came in. She was tall, slim, raven-haired, attractive. A great deal of allure, Callaghan thought. Her eyes were red with weeping.
Callaghan got up. He said: "Good morning, Miss Allardyce. I'm sorry about all this business, but I don't see how I can be very much use to you. After all, this is really a matter for the police, isn't it? Won't you sit down?" He pushed a chair forward. "Smoke a cigarette and relax," he said.
He gave her a cigarette, lit it, went back to the fireplace. He stood in front of it, his hands behind his back, looking at her. He said: "The story as I know it, Miss Allardyce, is this: Two days ago Eustace Giles, the man to whom you were engaged to be married, threw himself out of a window into the back courtyard of the Aylesbury Arms—an apartment block near St. John's Wood. That is what the police thought first of all, but the post mortem produced a rather interesting theory. The police surgeon discovered that Giles hadn't committed suicide, that he'd been murdered. Somebody had hit him over the head with a heavy instrument of some sort and then pushed him out of the window in the hope that it would appear to be suicide. Am I right?"
She nodded. She said: "That's perfectly right, Mr. Callaghan."
He said: "Well, what can I do about that? The police believe that somebody killed him and I expect they'll find the murderer. They do, you know, very often—more often than people believe, and they'll probably do it much more successfully than I should."
She said miserably: "That's the whole point, Mr. Callaghan. The police think they have found the murderer, and they're wrong."
Callaghan raised his eyebrows. He said: "Really?"
She said: "I ought to tell you the story from the beginning. You see, I was in love or thought I was in love with another man before I met Eustace. A very charming and delightful man—rather older than myself, it's true—but still a man of great character. We'd been friends for quite a time. He thought that we were going to be married. He'd planned for it." She shrugged her shoulders unhappily. "Then," she went on, "I met Eustace."
Callaghan asked: "What is this other man's name?"
"Edward Strangeways," she said. "He's the person I'm worried about."
Callaghan threw his cigarette stub in the fireplace, lit a fresh one. He said: "Why are you worried about Strangeways?"
She said: "The police believe he killed Eustace. You see, they've made enquiries—exhaustive enquiries. They think he was the last person to see Eustace."
Callaghan said: "I see." He inhaled tobacco smoke. He asked: "Have the police done anything about it yet?"
She said: "No, but I know that Edward's solicitors believe that they're going to arrest him."
Callaghan smiled at her. He said: "You know, Miss Allardyce, the police, in this country at any rate, do not consider arresting a man merely because he was the last person to see the man who was believed to have been murdered. They must have other evidence. They must believe there was a motive."
She said: "That's the trouble, Mr. Callaghan. There was a motive."
Callaghan cocked one eyebrow. He said: "Really? Do you know what it was?"
She nodded. She said: "You see, Eustace wasn't what is usually called a good man. In point of fact I believe he was a very bad man. His life had been one long series of affairs with women. Lots of people disliked him." She went on: "Don't misunderstand me, Mr. Callaghan. I know he'd given up all that sort of thing. After he'd met me he'd turned over a new leaf. He never made any secret of his life. He told me all about himself. I believed him and I loved him."
Callaghan said: "I understand. And I suppose that the other man—Strangeways—also knew about Eustace and his rather lurid past?"
She said: "Yes. In fact I told him about it. Right from the first he was quite naturally against me having anything to do with Eustace. I understood that. Men are just as jealous as women are. He entreated me not to have anything to do with Eustace—not to go on with this idea of marrying him. I told him he was stupid. I told him how Eustace had done every possible thing he could to prove he was serious about me."
"Every possible thing?" said Callaghan. "Now what would that mean, Miss Allardyce? You see, I'm trying to get all the facts."
She said: "Well, one of the things about Eustace was his extravagance with women. He had an income and Edward thought that once we were married he'd go back to his old sort of life, throwing himself and his money away on odd women. I told him that wasn't so. I told him that Eustace had actually made a settlement on me already, to prove to me that he was serious about us."
Callaghan said: "Well, didn't that put Strangeways more at ease?"
She nodded. "It did at first," she said, "but apparently a few days ago he heard something about Eustace—something about some other woman. I don't know what it was. Apparently he made up his mind to go round and see Eustace. I ought to have known—"
Callaghan interrupted quickly: "Why ought you to have known?"
She said: "Edward rang me up and asked me to give him Eustace's address. I did so. After I'd hung up the receiver I wondered why he wanted it. My instinct should have warned me. I ought to have known there was going to be trouble. I ought never to have given him the address."
"But," said Callaghan, "you did give him the address. And he went round and saw Eustace. Is that right? On the day that his body was found."
She nodded. When Callaghan looked at her he saw that her eyes were full of tears. She said: "Yes. I believe from what I can hear from his solicitors that he went round there in the late afternoon. Eustace's body was found that evening. Apparently nobody saw him after Edward."
Callaghan said: "It doesn't look as if there's an awful lot wrong with the police theory, does it?"
She said: "Everything's wrong with it."
Callaghan said: "If you believe that, it means you have an alternative theory, Miss Allardyce. If you believe that Strangeways didn't kill Giles, then presumably you've got some idea in your head as to who did."
She leaned forward in her chair. She said: "Mr. Callaghan, I've told you about Eustace and women. There were a lot of women who disliked him intensely. The news of our engagement and impending marriage had just become public. Don't you see what I mean?"
Callaghan nodded. He said: "Yes, I see what you mean. You mean that one of Eustace's lady friends had heard that he intended to turn over a new leaf and didn't like it. That they went round to see him and killed him, threw his body out of the window. Is that right?"
She said: "Yes."
Callaghan went on: "That's all very well, but what about the police evidence that nobody saw Giles after Strangeways?"
She said: "There might be an explanation for that. Normally, anybody wanting to go up to Eustace's flat would naturally see the hall-porter. They would have to pass the hall-porter's lodge to reach the lift. But supposing that somebody had a key to the flat. They could go in the back entrance, walk up the stairs. Nobody would see them."
Callaghan said: "I see." He blew another smoke ring. He said: "Had you any reason to believe that Giles feared Strangeways? Had you talked to him about it?"
She said: "Of course I told Eustace all about him—what a fine man he was. We talked about it the last time I saw Eustace alive. That would be a week ago."
Callaghan asked: "What was his reaction to that?"
She said: "There just wasn't any reaction. He said he felt rather sorry for him."
Callaghan said: "Well, Miss Allardyce, what do you want me to do?"
She said: "I'll tell you, Mr. Callaghan. There's a woman—a woman called Vanessa Jerome. Eustace told me about her. She's been in love with him for a long time. She'd told him that if he ever looked at another woman she'd kill him. I know she had a key to his flat."
Callaghan said: "I see. And you think that she killed him?"
She said: "I feel certain of it. I'll tell you why. I told you just now that Edward Strangeways had heard something about Eustace and another woman—something which made him go round to see Eustace. He'd probably heard that Eustace had started another affair with somebody just at the time when he'd become engaged to me. I believe that this woman Vanessa Jerome was his informant."
Callaghan said: "I've got it. You mean she telephoned and told Strangeways, knowing that he'd go round to see Giles, waited for him to leave, slipped in the back-way and killed Giles?"
She said: "Something like that, Mr. Callaghan. I'm certain this woman killed Eustace. I feel that unless you can do something to help it may be very, very bad for Edward. I'm afraid for him."
Callaghan said: "All right, Miss Allardyce. You go home. Don't worry, just relax. We'll do what we can."
IT was three o'clock when Callaghan was shown into Chief Detective-Inspector Gringall's room at Scotland Yard.
Gringall said: "Hello, Slim. I'm glad to see you. What's the trouble?"
Callaghan said: "It's about this Giles murder. Miss Allardyce—the woman who was going to marry him—has been to see me. She's got an idea that you're after the wrong man. She's got an idea that you're going to arrest this fellow Strangeways. She doesn't like it a bit. She's certain that Strangeways would never have killed Giles in a million years. She thinks one of his previous lady friends did it."
Gringall said: "Is that so? I don't agree. She believes Strangeways killed Giles." He looked at Callaghan and smiled. "Possibly she hasn't told you the whole truth," he said. "Sometimes they don't, you know."
Callaghan said: "All right. So she didn't tell me the whole truth. You tell me—why does she think that Strangeways killed Giles—as you're so certain on that point?"
Gringall said: "Giles was killed on the afternoon of the day before yesterday—Tuesday afternoon. Apparently, on the day before that—on the Monday—Strangeways got into touch with Miss Allardyce and asked her for Giles' address. She says she gave it to him, and then was sorry afterwards."
Callaghan nodded. He said. "That's right. That's what she told me."
"And there's something else that apparently she didn't tell you," said Gringall. "She immediately sat down and wrote Giles a letter. She didn't like the idea of this interview between these two men at all. In her letter she told Giles that Strangeways was coming to see him the next day. She asked Giles not to see him. She said there would only be trouble, that Strangeways was in a hell of a temper and hated the very mention of Giles' name."
Callaghan said: "That's not so good. You found the letter?"
"That's right," said Gringall. "We found it in pieces in the wastepaper basket in Giles' flat. I had 'em pasted together. Perhaps you'd like to read it."
He laid the pasted up letter and envelope on the desk in front of Callaghan. He said: "It looks pretty bad for Strangeways, doesn't it? He was the last person to see Giles alive. I'm sorry about your client, Slim, but I think to-morrow we'll probably have to pull him in."
Callaghan said: "Well I can't stop you." He glanced at the pasted up envelope in front of him. He said: "I've got Giles' address from this envelope I suppose you've no objection to my going and looking round the flat?"
Gringall said: "Certainly not. There's no reason why you shouldn't. I'll call through the porter downstairs and tell him it's O.K."
Callaghan said: "Don't do that—if you don't mind, Gringall. I want to try something."
