Complete works of peter.., p.516
Complete Works of Peter Cheyney. Illustrated, page 516
Gaunt smiled into the telephone. "That's all right, Meralda," he said, "and I hope you don't mind me calling you Meralda, because I always think of you that way. Don't worry. Go round to Scotland Yard and tell Detective- Inspector Ricket anything he wants to know, and I shouldn't take him too seriously either. He can ask as many questions as he likes, but he can't disprove the fact that the ammunition in the pistol you had was only blank. Keep your chin up; I'll give you a ring some time this afternoon."
"I must say you're very comforting," she said. "I hope it's going to be like you say. Goodbye, Mr. Gaunt."
"Just a minute. You haven't by any chance telephoned anybody else, have you, while that Detective-Sergeant was waiting round there?"
"Yes, I have, I telephoned Michael in Manchester and told him. I had a letter from him this morning."
"I see. And what did he say?"
"Just the same as you did;" she replied. "He told me not to worry. He said he was returning to town immediately, go straight to Scotland Yard and give them the surprise, of their lives."
"You don't say," said Gaunt. He was smiling. "Well, that will be nice for them, won't it? Well, don't worry. I'll ring you this afternoon. Goodbye, Meralda."
He hung up. After he had put the receiver back on its hook he sat there for a few moments looking at it. His grin was more sardonic than ever. Things were working out the way he thought they would.
X. — THE CONFESSION
IT was twelve-thirty when Gaunt got up from his desk, put on his hat and strolled into the outer office. He said to Josephine Dark: "I'm going out to lunch. If Ricket rings through and wants to speak to me, tell him you don't know where I am. Say you expect me back some time this afternoon."
While he was eating his lunch Gaunt permitted his mind to wander over the rather extraordinary story that Geraldine had told him of the visit paid by her and Wolfe Lanel to Zona's flat.
He found it difficult to understand Wolfe Lanel's remark on hearing from Geraldine that she believed Zona was dead. Lanel had said: "Let's get out of this..." Hardly the sort of remark of an innocent man who had just been told that his employer had committed suicide.
His excuse that they did not want to be mixed up with the business was flimsy. Gaunt believed it would have been natural for Lanel to have immediately inspected the body—even out of curiosity—and then telephoned the police. Why had he not done so?
It was three o'clock when he returned to the office. He went into his room and telephoned through to Scotland Yard at once. He asked for Ricket. When the Detective-Inspector came on the line Gaunt said:
"Hello, Ricket. I'm ringing you up to find out how things are going. There are one or two things I'd like to talk over with you."
"You don't say so," Ricket replied. His voice was rather grim "There are one or two things I want to talk over with you, too. I think you're going to find yourself in a bit of a jam before you're very much older."
"Oh, yes," said Gaunt, "and what am I supposed to do—burst into tears? What's the trouble. Ricket?"
"I sent a detective-sergeant to Meralda Grey's place this morning. I thought it was time we had an official statement from that young woman. I said he was to bring her round here and that I wanted to talk to her. She said that was all right and that she'd come, but would like to do some telephoning first. She went into the bedroom and closed the door. What she didn't know was that I have had her telephone tapped since yesterday evening. I've got a précis of her conversations in front of me at the moment.
"Her first call was to Manchester. She spoke to her boy friend, Michael Lorimer. She told him about Zona's murder and said she was suspected of committing it and a policeman was waiting to take her to the Yard. He said she was not to worry--he knew she must be innocent. He said he was coming to London right away, and he'd give us a big surprise when he got here. That was her first telephone call.
"The second one was to you at your office, so you know all about that one."
There was a pause, then Gaunt said: "Yes, I would know all about that one, wouldn't I?" He was still grinning.
"We'll come back to that second conversation in a minute," the Detective-Inspector continued. "About twenty minutes later this fellow Michael Lorimer rang me up from Manchester. He was at the railway station waiting for his train. He told me I needn't bother to take a statement from Meralda Grey, because he was the person who had killed Zona.
"I said that was very interesting snd I asked him at what time he killed Zona and how he got into the flat. He said he'd shot him at five o'clock in the afternoon, and got into the flat by the fire-escape stairs and through the double windows, which were open."
Gaunt laughed. "Well, that's a nice confession anyway."
"Confession my eye," said Ricket. "It's rubbish! First of all we know that fellow was in Manchester yesterday. He couldn't have been in town at five o'clock. Secondly, we know that Zona was alive and well after six, because he telephoned down to the hall porter at the Colindale Apartments and gave him some instructions. We've checked on the time that call was made. It was six fifty-five. So we know that Zona was alive then."
"And the hall-porter was certain that it was Zona speaking?" asked Gaunt.
"He's dead certain of it," said Ricket.
"I see," said Gaunt. "That's very interesting, isn't it, Ricket? And so you believe that this confession is nonsense?"
"It's unutterable rubbish," said Ricket, "and you know it. Another thing-- you know why he's making it, too."
"Do I?" queried Gaunt innocently. "Well, why is he making it?"
"He's making it because he knows that Meralda Grey killed Zona. Because he knows she killed him with a pistol he gave her before he went to Manchester. He realised he was a fool to have given her that pistol. He probably didn't think she'd use it at the time. Now he's doing his best to get her out of this jam. Anyway, he'll be here at four o'clock. I shall be able to talk to him."
"You seem pretty certain in your mind, Ricket, that Meralda Grey killed Zona."
"I am," said Ricket. "I'm more than certain now." Gaunt noticed the stress on the last word.
"Why, Ricket?" he asked. "What have you learnt recently that has confirmed your original suspicion?"
There was a moment's silence. Then Ricket said, "Listen, Rufus, you and I have always been more or less friendly in an odd sort of way, but I want to warn you to watch your step. When I tell you why I'm certain that the Grey woman killed Zona now you'll understand why you've to watch your step. Do you know a fellow called Wolfe Lanel?"
"I do," said Gaunt. "A very nice fellow—Zona's secretary."
"All right," said Ricket. "Well, Lanel's was here this morning. He tells me you admitted to him last night that you loaded Meralda Grey's gun with that blank ammunition after Zona had been shot, so now your theory that she couldn't have killed Zona because there were no real bullets in the gun is washed out once and for all. So far as I am concerned any suicide angle in this Zona killing is right out."
Gaunt made a clicking noise with his tongue. His face was quite placid.
"Things are beginning to look pretty bad for me, aren't they, Ricket?" he asked. "In a minute you'll be telling me that I'm an accessory to Zona's murder; that I went round there and held Meralda Grey's hand while she did it."
Ricket said: "Well, Gaunt, we shall want an explanation from you, and it had better be a good one."
"It will be. My explanations always are. By the way, you say you expect Lorimer at four o'clock. Don't you think it would be a good thing for me to come down then? And where's Meralda Grey? What have you done with her?"
"I've let her go home," said the police officer. "But she's under observation. I couldn't very well hold her until I'd satisfied myself that Lorimer was talking rubbish. I've taken a statement from her. She told me what happened. She said that she never looked at the ammunition in that gun and doesn't know whether it was blank or ball ammunition, She says you told her it was blank on the telephone after the murder, and she believes it for a very good reason. She wanted to believe it."
"All very nice," said Gaunt, "well, I'll be down at four o'clock, Ricket."
"Very Well," said Ricket.
Gaunt hung up. He looked quite happy.
IT was half-past four. Ricket, sitting behind his desk in his room at Scotland Yard, regarded Michael Lorimer and Gaunt with a cynical smile.
Gaunt, a cigarette hanging from his lips, was watching Lorimer. The young man looked a picture of utter depression. His hands gripped the arms of his chair spasmodically and he looked from Ricket to Gaunt and back again miserably.
"It's no good, Mr. Lorimer," said Ricket. "I can understand how you feel. I can even sympathise with you. At the same time you've got to understand that the police are not here to be made fools of. This so-called confession of yours is rubbish. Whichever way you look at it, it won't stand the most superficial examination.
"You say that you killed Zona at some time about five o'clock. We know that he was alive after six; that at six fifty-five he telephoned down to the hall-porter and gave him some instructions. When I asked you where Zona was when you shot him you told me that he was standing in front of his desk. That is quite impossible. He was sitting behind his desk. When I asked you which side of the head you fired at you said the left side. Well, the bullet that killed Zona entered his head from the right-hand side."
Ricket took a cigarette from the box on his desk and lit it. He looked at Lorimer and smiled.
"Taking all things into consideration, for a man who says that he's committed a murder, you don't seem to know very much about it," the Detective-Inspector went on. "And finally and perhaps most importantly of all, there's the fact that we knew that you were somewhere else at the time you tell us you killed Zona. You were in Manchester. You were at the Pirates Club soon after lunch trying to find where the manager was—the man who was going to get you a job. The only way you could have got to London by five o'clock would have been by airplane and you didn't do that. We've checked up and know you didn't."
Ricket got up. He came round the desk and put his hand on Lorimer's shoulder.
"It's tough luck," he said. "And I don't know that I don't admire you for trying to shoulder the blame. We know who killed Zona... and it wasn't you. You get back to your work in Manchester and forget all about this... and Meralda Grey. I don't think she's the sort of girl friend for a decent fellow like you."
Lorimer got up. Gaunt got up, too. They walked to the door together.
"By the way, Gaunt," said Ricket as they were about to leave the room, "I'm going to do you a good turn and forget about that nonsense you told me about the pistol being loaded with blanks I'd advise you to forget about it too." He smiled cynically. "I'd give this case up if I were you, Gaunt, and not waste any more of your time—or mine—with faked evidence."
Gaunt grinned. "Thanks, Ricket," he said amiably. "Maybe I'll take your advice and maybe not. Good-day."
He closed the door behind him.
Outside in the corridor he took Michael Lorimer by the arm.
"It's tough luck," he said. "I knew that Ricket was wise to you directly he told me that you'd told him on the telephone that you'd shot Zona at five o'clock. I realised at once that he'd know that was rubbish because of the hall-porter's evidence. If Zona hadn't telephoned to the hall-porter at six-fifty-five you might have got away with it and got yourself charged with murder." He grinned happily. "That is, if Ricket hadn't happened to know that you were in Manchester on the day of the murder. Anyhow, let's go somewhere and get a cup of tea. I want to talk to you."
"This is all too awful," Lorimer said. "I just can't believe it. I can't believe that Meralda did it. I won't believe it."
Gaunt shrugged. "I'm afraid you'll have to get yourself in the frame of mind in which you can face the fact that Ricket will charge Meralda with murder within the next twenty-four hours," he said grimly, "Because that's what he's going to do."
Lorimer nodded miserably. As they crossed the road and walked towards Victoria Street he stumbled and nearly fell. The detective caught him by the arm.
"Take it easy," he said. "And don't lose your nerve. You'll do no good by panicking. With a bit of luck we'll find a way out for Meralda yet."
"Do you think there's a chance of it... even a mere hope?" asked Lorimer.
Gaunt nodded. "I do. There is just a chance. As a matter of fact, if it hadn't been for Lanel I might have got away with my original scheme. I expect Ricket told you about the information I have given him that the gun Meralda had with her was loaded with blanks. The whole success of that little scheme depended upon the time that I discovered that fact. Unfortunately, I told Lanel I was the fellow who had slipped the blank ammunition into the gun. He promptly gave the information to Ricket, and that was the end of that. I'd hoped to get at you before Ricket had a chance to talk to you and get you to support my story, to say that you had loaded the pistol with blank ammunition before you gave it to Meralda. But Ricket got in first, so that's that."
They went into a tea-shop in Victoria Street. Gaunt could see that Lorimer was on the verge of a breakdown. His hand was trembling as he carried his tea-cup to his lips.
After a while Lorimer said: "I think you're being pretty decent about all this business, Gaunt. Ricket told me you were engaged by Zona to look after his interests. I suppose Zona told you a lot of fairy stories about me?"
Gaunt nodded. "Yes, But I didn't have to believe them." He grinned. "I've always had my own ideas about the sort of person Mario Zona was."
Lorimer attempted a smile. "Anyhow," he said, "I don't know what your reasons are, but you've certainly done your best far Meralda. You've done everything you could to get her out of this horrible mess."
"We both have," said the detective. "And," he added, his eyes twinkling, "We've net finished yet."
He leant across the table. "I've still got a trump card up my sleeve. I'm just biding my time to play it."
Lorimer opened his eyes wide. "You've really got something?" he queried. "You're not just trying another fake on Ricket?"
"Not this time. But whatever happens I've got to have your support. Where are you staying?"
"I shall be at the Vine Hotel in Aldwych," Lorimer answered.
"All right," said Gaunt. "Now you go there and stay there. Don't try and see Meralda. Just go to your hotel and relax. I'm going to get into touch with you tonight. I'll telephone you some time after eight o'clock. I'll probably ask you to meet me somewhere where we can talk. I've got an idea—a very definite idea—but I'm not quite certain about it yet."
"I'll do anything," said Lorimer. "Anything possible, to help. But can't I know something about this scheme of yours?"
"Not at the moment," said Gaunt "I said it was a trump card, and I'm going to keep it up my sleeve until the time comes to play it. When the time arrives I promise you'll be there."
XI. — THE THIN END OF THE WEDGE
GAUNT stood for a moment in Victoria Street watching the figure of Michael Lorimer disappear in the dusk. Then he began to walk towards Whitehall. Half-way down the street he stopped a passing cab and told the driver to take him to Colindale Apartments. Just inside the entrance he found the hall-porter. Gaunt handed the man a ten shilling note.
"My name's Gaunt," he said. "I'm a private detective. I was doing some work for Mr. Zona when he was killed. Perhaps you could give me a little information."
"Anything I can, sir," said the hall-porter. "What is it you want to know?"
Gaunt lit a cigarette. "I was at Scotland Yard this afternoon. Detective-Inspector Ricket said you told him that Mr. Zona telephoned down to you from his apartment at six fifty-five yesterday."
"That's right," said the man.
"Are you sure that was the exact time?" asked the detective.
"Absolutely certain, sir," said the hall-porter. "There's a clock in the hall here. I can see it from the office. It's an electric clock and its always dead right. I go off at seven o'clock and I looked at that clock as Mr. Zona telephoned down."
Gaunt nodded. "I see," he said. "That settles that it was six fifty-five. Now what was it Mr. Zona said to you?"
"He asked me to go round to the chemist and get a bottle of spirits of alcohol. I said all right, although I was a bit annoyed because I had a date and I was in a hurry to get away. I just got to the doorway when the telephone rang again."
"I went back and answered it. It was Mr. Zona, again. He said I needn't bother; and he didn't want the spirits of alcohol."
"And you're sure it was Zona?" said Gaunt.
"Absolutely," said the man. "I'd swear to it. I'd know his voice in a million, sir."
"Thanks," said Gaunt. He went out.
Outside, he picked up a passing cab and drove to Meralda Grey's flat. As he rang the bell he noticed a man—obviously a plainclothes man—standing on the other side of the road. Gaunt grinned. Ricket was taking no chances about Meralda trying to make a getaway.
When the maid showed him into Meralda's sitting-room she was standing in front of the fire, her hands on the mantelpiece, looking down into the flames. She turned as he came into the room. He smiled at her cheerfully. Her eyes were rimmed with dark circles. She looked terribly ill.
"You know, Meralda," he said, "I think you're taking all this business a trifle too seriously. Sit down and relax."
He offered her his cigarette case, produced a lighter, and lit a cigarette for her.
"It's rather difficult to feel otherwise," she said. "And I wonder how you can expect me to feel cheerful, Mr. Gaunt. I suppose I've been deluding myself all along. Now I'm faced with stark reality. I am a murderess. I killed Zona."
Gaunt nodded. "Exactly, That's what you think, but I don't."
She looked at him sharply. "You don't really mean that," she said. "You're just trying to give me some sort of hope."
"No, I'm not. I'm talking hard sense, but I've got to be certain this time, and I've got to be able to prove what I think. Ricket will be very suspicious now that Lanel has told him that I put the blank ammunition in that automatic pistol after Zona had been shot." He grinned again. "Which is exactly what I thought he'd do," he concluded.
