Ladies’ Bane

CHAPTER 30

The Chief Constable of the county looked testily at Superintendent Cole and Inspector Grayson. He rapped with his fingers upon the edge of the writing-table and demanded,

“What do you suppose anyone can do with a story like that?”

He was a small man with a lively blue eye and what had been a tendency to red in the hair now going grey. All his movements were quick, and so was his temper.

The Superintendent on the contrary was a large, affable man with a fatherly manner, slow to take offence and always ready to pour oil upon the official waters should they require it. He and Inspector Grayson-smart, intelligent, and for the moment respectfully silent-were on the other side of the table.

The Superintendent said in his comfortable voice,

“Well, sir-”

Colonel Marsden snapped at him.

“What’s there well about it? Perhaps you can tell me that! First you put up a damned good case, and then you come along and try and knock it down again! And what have you got to knock it down with? A lot of gossip and hearsay-word-spinning!”

“Well, sir-”

Colonel Marsden thumped the table.

“I tell you it isn’t well! It’s a damned mess! Now there was a perfectly good case against that fellow Humphreys-don’t know what you want with a better one! He finds Flaxman in his daughter’s room getting on for ten o’clock at night, orders him off the premises, fires a charge of shot at him, and beats his daughter. Whole affair witnessed and testified to by next door neighbour. Corpse of Flaxman subsequently found on waste piece of ground not a hundred yards away. Been stabbed. Pruning-knife, corresponding to stab wound, in Humphreys’ possession. Beautiful case without a hole in it. And then you come along and say Tom Humphreys didn’t do it, because his father says so!”

“Well, sir”-the Superintendent’s tone was placid-“I don’t know that I went so far as all that, but that knife old Mr. Humphreys brought in-well, it looks like he’s got something there. The stains up by the hilt are blood-I’ve brought the report along for you to see-and the blood belongs to the same group as Flaxman’s, which is one of the kind you don’t so often come across.”

Colonel Marsden gave the impression that he was emitting sparks.

“My good Cole, don’t you ever think-just for a change? You might even read a detective story or two-it might broaden your mind!” He leaned forward, tapping on the table. “It didn’t occur to you, I suppose, that old Humphreys might have changed knives with his son?”

“No, sir. And begging your pardon, it doesn’t occur to me now. I make so bold as to say that old Mr. Humphreys is a man that is very highly respected in Bleake. A very honest, respectable, hard-working family, and nothing against any of them till it comes to poor Tom’s daughter. Old Mr. Humphreys wouldn’t do a thing like accusing an innocent man-and that man his employer. He’s got a temper, and he’s dry and surly, but his bark’s a deal worse than his bite, and you won’t find anyone to believe he would do a mean trick like changing those knives.”

Colonel Marsden threw himself back in his chair.

“So Mr. Geoffrey Trent told his ward she could take a crazy rope and go hang! ‘Geoffrey said I could have it.’ Old Humphreys says that’s what she said to him, and he says that Flaxman heard her say it. Well, perhaps he did, and perhaps he didn’t. Again we have only got old Humphreys’ word for that!”

“I believe there is something Miss Muir could say, but she is holding back. Mr. Trent is her brother-in-law, after all.”

“Too many relations mixed up in this affair for my liking! Too many loose ends everywhere, and too many fingers in the pie-gardeners-sisters-in-law-old maid visitors! And as if there wasn’t enough and to spare without anyone else taking a hand, the Yard has been on to me this morning!”

Grayson, silent, attentive, watchful, was able to remark that the temperature of the interview had cooled perceptibly. Old Cole was no longer enemy number one, but a possible reinforcement. He was being confided in rather than attacked. It was in a tone of sympathy that the Superintendent exclaimed,

“The Yard, sir!”

Colonel Marsden jerked open a drawer, rummaged in it, and flung a crumpled sheet across the table.

“There you are! Read it for yourself! Dope! Accidents and murders aren’t complicated enough, it seems! That girl who fell off the quarry, her father ran a business in the Near East. Suspected of trafficking in drugs-nothing proved. Interval for the war. Fellow commits suicide and Geoffrey Trent goes out to clear up the mess. Nothing against him until just now. Seems they’ve had advices from the Mediterranean area that there are some quite lively deals going on. More loose threads, but one of them connects with Geoffrey Trent and his business, and they want to send a man down-name of Howland. Well, of course no objection to that. We don’t pretend to handle international dope traffic-well, do we?”

The Superintendent said, “No, sir.” His tone was a little on the dry side. He had served for fifteen years under the Chief Constable, and he was wondering what it was that he had got up his sleeve. He was to know in a minute.

Leaning back in his chair, and in a manner which could hardly have been more casual, Colonel Marsden said,

“Seems to be some idea that Mrs. Trent has been taking the stuff. Heard anything about that?” His eye travelled from Cole to the Inspector.

“Well, yes, sir.” Grayson was brisk. “There’s been a bit of talk in Bleake about her being strange. I don’t know that it went further than that.”

Colonel Marsden grunted.

“Nice household, I must say! And that girl who fell over the quarry-odd in the head, wasn’t she? And her money all came to Trent. Ever think there might have been more in that case than met the eye, Cole?”

“No evidence, sir.”

“And now Humphreys comes along with a yarn that she told him that Trent had given her leave to take that rope. Rotten, wasn’t it?”

Grayson said,

“Yes, sir-I handled it. It wouldn’t have held a dog’s weight, let alone that poor girl’s. You could break it almost anywhere with a good pull.”

The Chief Constable said in his testiest voice,

“The Yard seem to have got hold of that too! They got on to me this morning, and they said some information had been brought to them. Well, the whole thing ties up together, doesn’t it? If they’ve got all this stuff they’d better use it and be done with it! Seems there’s a suggestion that Mrs. Trent or her sister may be exposed to some risk. Can’t quite see it myself! But of course I haven’t got their information! I don’t want to be told afterwards that something has happened, and that we ought to have known it was going to happen and have prevented it!”

“No, sir.”

The Chief Constable banged his knee.

“How do you mean ‘No, sir’? I tell you I’m not going to take any responsibility in the matter! They can send down anyone they like, and they won’t be able to say we made difficulties about it! If the whole thing turns out to be a mare’s nest, well then, that’s their lookout! We can just sit back and say we said so all along!”

Grayson’s face allowed none of his angry thoughts to show. What old Marsden meant was that he had called in the Yard, and that if anyone was going to get a pat on the back over the case, it wasn’t going to be John Grayson.

The Superintendent was saying,

“You mean that you have asked them to send someone down besides Howland?”

Colonel Marsden nodded.

“Well, they suggest Abbott-Inspector Abbott. Seems some of this information was brought to him, and they think he might as well come down and see if he can dig up anything more. Don’t know if you’ve ever run across him. Very competent fellow. Used to know a cousin of his-extraordinary pretty woman, but no brains. Not that I’m partial to your clever women-too dashed earnest about it, if you know what I mean. But there’s a limit the other way!”

Superintendent Cole said with slightly strained good humour,

“Am I to take it that these chaps from the Yard will be coming down immediately?”