Mr. Zero

XXXIX

If I hadn’t the jaw-bone of an ox, he’d have broken it,” said Dr. Hammond wrathfully. “Boyce, you’re blithering. Mr. Somers hasn’t murdered anybody. He’s just escaped being murdered by the skin of his teeth, and so have I. Your Mr. Zero, the man who murdered Sir Francis Colesborough and Sturrock and did his damnedest to shoot Mr. Somers and myself, is at the bottom of the quarry, and you’d better send your men down to make sure he’s dead. I’d send two of them if I were you, because if he isn’t dead he’ll be about as safe as a wounded tiger. I’m not going down and that I tell you flat. They can bring him up here to me. I’ve had some and I’m not going down again.” He clutched rather suddenly at Algy and lowered himself on to the grass.

“You’re not hurt, sir?” Boyce’s tone was full of concern.

“Shook up,” said Dr. Hammond rather faintly. He shut his eyes and leaned forward with his head on his knees.

“Perhaps you’ll tell us what’s been happening, Mr. Somers,” said the Inspector. “We went after you to Cole Lester, and when we found you weren’t there, well, it was natural for us to draw certain conclusions.”

“I suppose it was,” said Algy. “But I was only walking over to Railing Place. I wanted to see Mr. Lushington.”

“That’s what William told us. We had just got to the turn where the track comes in, when we heard the shooting and got a move on. Lucky we arrived when we did.”

“Yes. He knew the game was up as soon as he saw you. As long as it was only the Doctor and me, he’d have gone on fighting. He meant it to look as if I’d shot Dr. Hammond and then committed suicide.”

Jim Hammond lifted his head for a moment and nodded.

“He’d got it all planned,” he said. “I’m going to have a lump on my jaw like a turkey’s egg.”

“Will you tell us what happened, Mr. Somers?” said the Inspector.

Algy was tying a handkerchief round his thumb.

“William told me about the short cuts. He told me something else too. His girl heard Sturrock ring Brewster up on Sunday afternoon-she’s the housemaid at the Hand and Flower. That is what I was going to see Mr. Lushington about. I thought he ought to know before anyone else did.”

“I don’t know that you were right about that, sir.”

Algy lifted a hand and let it fall again.

“Well, that’s what I thought. I came round that corner and saw Dr. Hammond’s car, and when I got clear of the car I saw Dr. Hammond. He was standing on the edge of the quarry with his hands above his head and Brewster holding him up with a pistol. I tried to get there without being heard, but he suddenly loosed off his gun and the Doctor went over the edge. I thought he was done for. I don’t know why he wasn’t.”

Dr. Hammond’s head came up again.

“I jumped,” he said with a wry grin. “Brewster said, ‘I’m tired of you. Out you go!’ But I didn’t wait for the word go-I beat the pistol. And those infernal brambles practically skinned me alive.”

“Better alive than dead, sir,” said Inspector Boyce. He looked at Algy with a dubious expression. “Well, sir, all this is a bit awkward for me. You see, what with one thing and another, the evidence had got pretty well piled up against you, and-well-it’s a bit awkward, but I’ve got a warrant for your arrest.”

Dr. Hammond gave a groan.

“Boyce, you continue to blither, and I warn you that I am in no state to be blithered at. That’s my professional opinion. Free, gratis, and for nothing. Here, give me a hand up-I don’t want a crick in the neck as well as a sock on the jaw.” He groaned again as he got to his feet. “Now, Boyce, get this into your head. The, I hope, late Mr. Brewster murdered Sir Francis Colesborough and Sturrock, and did his best to murder Mr. Somers and me. He boasted about Sir Francis and the butler-I heard him. Mr. Somers saw him shoot at me, and I saw him shoot at Mr. Somers. Now what’s your damn fool warrant worth? Hang it all, man, you can’t go arresting him now!”

Inspector Boyce coughed slightly.

“If you were feeling up to it, sir, what I would suggest would be for you and Mr. Somers to go along with me to see the Chief Constable-”

“I don’t feel up to it,” said Dr. Hammond bitterly. “I feel very ill. I require a strong stimulant, a nice hot bath, and a complete change of clothing. But I’m a martyr to duty.”

A hail came up from the quarry. The Inspector went and looked over the edge.

“Found him?” he called out.

“Yes, sir.”

“Dead?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, that’s going to save everyone a lot of trouble,” said Dr. Hammond.