Nest of Vipers

Chapter Eleven

The Elysian Fields

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‘WHAT’S today?’ asked Laura, looking at her watch. They had lunched in Moretonhampstead and the time was just after half-past three. ‘Saturday, isn’t it? So it can’t be early closing.’

‘Some shops do close on Saturday afternoons,’ Dame Beatrice pointed out.

‘We shall have to wait until Monday. Perhaps the sect of which our friend is the leader keeps the Biblical Sabbath.’

‘Oh, well, we can go and see those two girls, so our trip won’t be entirely wasted.’

‘I am anxious to talk to that antique dealer as soon as possible. We will do as you suggest. After that, well, at this time of year the hotels in such a little town as this are unlikely to be full.’

‘Stay a night here, you mean?’

‘Two nights, unless the man opens his shop on Sundays.’

‘Oh, yes, of course. Oh, well, we always keep overnight bags in the boot, so we can manage all right.’

‘Thanks to a splendidly practical arrangement which you suggested a long time ago, yes, we can. So now, with easy minds, to our interview.’

Billie opened the door to them again and said, in a low tone, after she had greeted them: ‘Ellie is a bit shattered, so don’t expect too much from her, poor kid.’

Elysée was standing at the window with her back to the room when they went in. When she turned round, Laura was not struck so much by the fact that ‘shattered’ seemed the appropriate word, as that she was so young and so tall. She came forward and greeted them with controlled composure and added, ‘Billie has told me why you’ve come, but I don’t think I can help you.’

‘Well, we can all sit down and have a drink, anyway,’ said Billie. ‘Will you have this chair, Dame Beatrice?’

‘Well,’ said Dame Beatrice, seating herself as she was directed, ‘and how did you leave Miss McHaig?’

The effect of this question startled everybody but the questioner. Elysée, who was still standing, gave a kind of croak, put a hand out as though she was a blind person groping for something in a strange environment, swayed and, but for Laura’s quick reaction in leaping up and catching her, would have fallen to the carpet.

‘She’s fainted,’ said Billie unnecessarily. She went to Laura’s assistance.

‘Shove her head down,’ said Laura, ‘and let’s get her into a chair.’

‘Right,’ said Dame Beatrice, who had regarded the proceedings benevolently. ‘And now, my poor child, we will have your answer to my question. Shall I repeat it?’

‘No,’ said Elysée, as Billie allowed her to raise her head from between her knees, ‘I know what you said. When I left Cassie she was lying on the bedroom floor bleeding from the head. The hotel people were ringing for a doctor. Polly told them she had tripped over a rug and hit her head, but she hadn’t, of course. He had knocked her down because she’d said things. If she dies, he’ll be a murderer.’

‘Have you rung the hotel to find out how she is?’ asked Dame Beatrice sternly, before hysterical tears could choke her victim’s utterance.

‘Of course not. Polly told me to stay out of it, and I’m going to.’ Elysée put on an air of defiance.

‘How can you stay out of it if you were there with him?’ demanded Billie.

‘I wasn’t with him. We booked in separately.’

‘So you had that much sense!’

‘It was Polly’s idea. He said he and Cassie had stayed there before, and it was the first place she’d come to, and that’s what he wanted, a showdown, and then he’d have done with her for always.’

‘Poor old Cassie!’ said Billie, in such dispassionate tones that Elysée gave her a terrified glance and this time did burst into tears.

‘Well,’ said Dame Beatrice, getting up, ‘since you can tell us nothing helpful about the death of Miss Minnie, we had better take our leave.’

‘Oh, don’t go! Don’t leave me while she’s in this state!’ said Billie. ‘I could cope when I thought she was only suffering from—’ she grinned, but it turned into a clownish grimace – ‘the unwelcome attentions of a heel, but if anything’s happened to Cassie McHaig, it’s a different kettle of fish altogether, because—’

‘Nothing’s happened to her,’ sobbed Elysée, reversing a previous opinion. ‘Of course it hasn’t! It can’t have!’

‘If I were you,’ said Billie, ‘I’d ring up this prizefighting Casanova of yours and get him to give you the latest bulletin. You need only ask to speak to him. The hotel receptionist won’t know who you are.’

‘She will when she asks who’s calling,’ said Elysée, sniffing and then blowing her nose.

‘Oh, don’t be a fool! Give a false name, of course. Give mine. That will tip off this blasted Hempseed – good God! What a name! – that it’s you, and he’ll be ready with his story by the time they’ve paged him and he’s got to the phone.’

‘You ring him,’ said Elysée. She turned to Dame Beatrice when Billie had gone out into the hall. ‘What did you think I could tell you about Miss Minnie?’ she asked. ‘And why me?’

‘Well,’ Dame Beatrice replied, ‘I will begin by answering your second question. Enquiries at Weston Pipers have established that, whereas Miss Kennett was accustomed to report daily at her newspaper office, you yourself spent at least three days a week in your flat.’

‘Well, Niobe Nutley spent seven days a week there and, when she was there, so did Sumatra – not that she’d notice anything which went on. Irelath was her whole life, I believe. She didn’t really have eyes or ears for anybody else.’

‘Quite. As for Miss Nutley, I have already talked to her. Now, Miss Barnes, you are young, emotional and, I would think, kind-hearted. What was your opinion of Miss Minnie?’

‘I don’t think I formed one. If I thought about her at all, I suppose I looked on her as a poor lonely old thing who didn’t get much fun out of life.’

‘When you were alone on those three days a week, did you often go out in your car?’

‘No, because the days when I didn’t have to go up to Town, Billie had the car. Other days she used her moped, but that’s not an all-weather vehicle exactly, and anyway, I always think four wheels are much safer than two.’

‘So, although you thought of Miss Minnie as a poor lonely old thing who did not get much fun out of life, you never took her for a drive?’

‘No. Oh, well, no, not for a drive, but sometimes, when I was driving to the station I used to go up to Town by train because of parking problems and because Billie used to fuss because she said it was too far to go to London and back in a day—’

‘And on the way to the station you happened to pass Miss Minnie—’

‘She was supposed to be going out to do her shopping, so, yes, I used to pull in and pick her up. She had to go to the bus stop otherwise and that’s a good mile and a half from Weston Pipers – and the buses are very irregular.’

‘She appears to have avoided contact with all the other inhabitants of Weston Pipers. Why do you think she made an exception of you?’

‘I suppose it was easier to go into the town by car than wait for the bus, that’s all. I suppose she had to come back by bus, but there was nothing I could do about that.’

Dame Beatrice said, ‘Could not Mrs Evans have picked her up? Anyway, the journey to the station from which you caught your train is about ten miles from Weston Pipers, I believe, so if we subtract the distance she walked before you picked her up, Miss Minnie would have been in the car with you for about twenty minutes, I suppose.’

‘A bit more. The roads round here twist and turn and are pretty narrow, and you can’t drive fast on them. Besides I promised Billie I wouldn’t, not even if it meant missing my train.’

‘She seems to take every care of you.’

‘She’s worse than a fussy maiden aunt! Of course, she’s older than I am.’

‘That would explain it. She may be a frustrated mother. Some, of course, keep dogs or cats—’

‘And in this case, you mean, she keeps me! Only she doesn’t, you know. I can pay my way very nicely, thank you. Hers, too, if I wanted to, or she’d let me. She’s rather a long time on that telephone.’

‘I fancy that she is keeping out of our way while I question you. Did you drop Miss Minnie at the railway station each time?’

‘No, I never took her as far as that, because the shops were on the way to it, so she got off before we reached the station.’

‘Did she chat to you on the short journey?’

‘Not to say chat. She asked me whether I ever took hot sea water baths, I remember.’

‘And do you?’

‘Heavens, no! The hot water from the bathroom tap is quite good enough for me. The papers said she was drowned in sea water, though. Did Piper do it?’

‘What is your opinion?’

‘Niobe Nutley might have done it. He wouldn’t.’

‘You think that, do you?’

‘She’s potty on him and if she thought poor old Minnie was going to have the law on him and try to get Weston Pipers and the money herself, Niobe would remove her from the scene of operations without a qualm, and it’s my firm belief that’s what she did, not realising it would land Piper in the soup.’

‘Interesting. Did Miss Minnie ever confide such an intention to you – that she meant to contest the will?’

‘No, and, if she had, the last person I would have retailed it to would have been Niobe. She got rid of Billie and me, you know – anonymous letters.’

‘That, according to my information, was Mrs Constance Kent.’

‘Oh, I know all about Connie Kent. The letters from Niobe were ever so much worse. Billie doesn’t know about them because they used to come while I was in the flat and Billie was working. I’ve never told her about them. I insisted, though, that we had better get out.’

‘How do you know that Miss Nutley wrote them?’

‘I thought it was obvious. Her reason was the same as Connie Kent’s. Both of them were horribly envious just because Billie and I were happy together and they were not happy at all. Connie makes Evesham Evan’s life a misery, and her own, too, and Niobe can’t get Piper, although she chases him all the time.’

‘But you and Miss Kennett were not entirely happy together, I think – not lately, at any rate.’

‘You mean because I went off with Polly? Well, Billie is so bossy, you know, and when she told me I was burning my fingers with Polly, I thought, Right. I’ll burn my whole hand.’

‘Very childish.’

‘Besides, I wanted a man.’

‘Ah, yes, very natural, of course.’

‘I expect Billie was jealous. She got to know, of course. I can’t stand jealous people. Can you?’

‘I am extremely sorry for them.’

‘Well, they’re hell to live with, anyway.’

‘No doubt. Do you happen to know which shops Miss Minnie patronised?’

‘Oh, the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker, like everybody else, I suppose. Oh, there was one shop she went to which was a bit different. I only knew about it by accident. She’d left her shopping-bag in the car and my train that morning was cancelled for some reason or other and there was an hour to wait for the next one, so I thought I might as well chase after her because she’d probably need the shopping-bag. I parked the car in the usual place outside the station and walked back to where I’d set her down. She didn’t walk very fast, so she hadn’t got far along the sea-front where some of the shops are, and I could see her in the distance. I hurried up, and saw her turn into a little side street, so I followed and spotted her going into a little, very scruffy antique shop. I went in after her, but when I got inside there was nobody there. I waited a bit, then I rapped on the counter, but nobody came. I rapped again, then I banged and shouted, but still nothing happened. I didn’t like just to leave the bag there – it was rather a decent one – so I went back to the car with it and locked it in the boot.’

‘So when did you return it?’

‘I forgot it until Billie and I had to put our suitcases in the boot when we left Weston Pipers.’

‘I see. Well now, Miss Barnes, there are one or two points which interest me very much. Of course you are not obliged to answer any of my questions, some of which will not please and may possibly alarm you.’

‘Oh, dear!’ said Elysée, turning pale and appearing alarmed even before the questioning began.

‘Yes. Remember, however, that I am the soul of discretion and that my profession has schooled me to keep secrets a good deal more disgraceful, I am certain, than any of yours can be. In addition, I assure you that I am unshockable, so fear nothing. You gave Miss Minnie fairly frequent lifts in your car?’

‘Yes, I picked her up fairly often,’ agreed Elysée.

‘Why did you not pick her up outside her bungalow?’

‘I suggested it, but she didn’t want it that way. She said she had refused lifts from one or two people and did not want to offend them by taking lifts from me. Actually, as I now know, she didn’t want anybody at Weston Pipers to see us together.’

‘Do you know why?’

‘Yes, I do now. That’s why I wanted Polly Hempseed to seduce me.’

‘I take it you are unwilling to enlarge on that point, so I will not pursue the subject for the present. Did you ever go to the little antique shop on any other occasion besides the one when you tried to return Miss Minnie’s bag?’

‘What if I did?’

‘I see. You did.’

‘I was curious to know why she had gone there and disappeared.’

‘Of course. Did you ever enter her bungalow?’

‘Oh, no. I wouldn’t have dreamt of trying to do that. She wouldn’t have let me in.’

‘You mentioned Miss Kennett’s jealousy. Originally it was not Mr Hempseed of whom she was jealous, was it?’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘I mean that the jealousy was first sparked off when Mr Piper began to show interest in you. This was some time ago, I believe, and it died what may be called a natural death when Mr Piper was arrested.’

‘Billie never believed that Chelion killed Miss Minnie.’

‘Nevertheless, she was not averse, I take it, to seeing the back of him. Your interest in Mr Hempseed must have shocked her very much.’

‘I wouldn’t know about that.’

‘Oh, come, now! Incidentally, the most wounding letter you received came not from Constance Kent, but from Niobe Nutley.’

‘I told you that.’

‘Tell me, did Miss Minnie never enquire about her lost bag?’

‘Actually, when she left it in the car, that was the last time I ever gave her a lift. Anyway, she never asked about the bag and the next I heard of her she was dead.’

Dame Beatrice caught Laura’s eye and nodded. Laura put away the notebook in which she had been recording the interview and went to the door. Billie came in and went straight up to Elysée.

‘You didn’t tell me you’d married him,’ she said.

‘I had to,’ said Elysée, going to Laura for protection, ‘but not for the usual reason.’

‘Sit down, Miss Kennett,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘I gather that Miss McHaig is, at any rate, not dead.’

‘Neither is she Miss McHaig,’ said Billie, her face crumpling up. ‘She’s married to Hempseed.’ She looked at the cowering spectacle of her friend. ‘You utter fool!’

‘I wouldn’t have called Billie Kennett a motherly type,’ said Laura, when they were in the car. ‘Do you really think that she is?’

‘I think that, in partnerships such as theirs, one finds a dominant and a submissive; a protector and a protected.’

‘In this case, the submissive seems to have cut a pretty wide swathe. Act of rebellion or act of despair?’

‘It hardly matters now. Our interests lie elsewhere. I am extremely grateful to Miss Barnes.’

‘For returning to that two down, two up, nest of theirs?’

‘No. For telling Miss Kennett, in front of witnesses, that she had to get married.’

‘And trick that obnoxious Hempseed into bigamy?’

‘Bigamy, in my opinion, does not enter into the matter. Mr Hempseed (to use his pseudonym) has far too much common sense for that, I am perfectly sure. I have no doubt that, to satisfy Miss Barnes, some kind of ritual was carried out which she assumed to be a marriage ceremony. She appears to be a singularly guileless young person, and a very bad liar. As I say, I am convinced that Mr Hempseed is far too wary a practitioner to have contracted a bigamous marriage which Miss McHaig could have exposed for what it was at any moment she chose. Also, Miss Barnes saw far more of Miss Minnie than she admits.’

‘So what’s this “had to get married” argument all about?’

‘The loss of her virginity, no doubt, had some importance for her. One assumes she desired to lose it.’

‘Oh, well, it isn’t fashionable to be a virgin nowadays. How are we going to spend Sunday?’

‘In meditation and prayer, as is seemly and right.’

‘You’re not going to church?’

‘Why not? In the business we are about to undertake, the more of the odour of sanctity we have about us, the more sure are we of successfully resisting the powers of evil. Besides, I always go to church when we are at home.’

‘Yes, but I thought you looked on that as a social gesture, something the village kind of expected of you as the owner of the biggest house in the place.’

‘There is that aspect, of course.’

‘Look, what is all this? And what has Barnes’s virginity got to do with it?’

‘That remains to be seen. We shall know more, I hope, when we have visited that sleazy little antique shop again.’

‘I say!’ said Laura, on a note of enlightenment. ‘Does it all add up? I mean, Miss Minnie being connected with that peculiar sect and being seen by that dim-wit Barnes to go into the junk shop and disappear, and Barnes teaming up with this Hempseed simply for the purpose you mentioned, and Miss Minnie getting drowned and disfigured? Could it make some sort of sense? I suppose it could. But where does Niobe Nutley fit in? Didn’t she murder the old lady, after all?’

‘Monday’s child is fair of face,’ said Dame Beatrice, ‘so let us see what its pulchritude can do for us the morn’s morn, as I believe your countrymen express it. Meanwhile, we are in a seaside town at an unattractive time of year. How shall we disport ourselves on a somewhat cheerless Saturday evening?’

‘Go to the pictures,’ said Laura.

The cinema, the only one in the little town, looked drab and unprepossessing from the outside, but, in deference, no doubt, to the summer visitors from whom it derived a good deal of its revenue, the interior was warm and tastefully decorated.

The young woman at the receipt of custom looked them over with a casual glance which hardly travelled beyond the treasury note which Laura was holding out, and said briefly, ‘One senior cit., one full price – where d’ya wanna be?’

Laura opted for the front of the circle and was picking up her change when from a curtain which screened the back of the box-office, a bland, expressionless face peered out and a finger poked the girl in the back.

‘OK,’ said the box-office girl, without turning round. ‘You’ve got time for a quick one, if you hurry, Dadda. Dirty old man!’ she observed in an indulgent tone, when the face had disappeared behind the curtain.

‘Who is he?’ Laura enquired.

‘Name of Bosey. Deputises for me every other Sat’ night and Wednesdays, when I go off.’

‘I think I’ve seen his shop.’

‘Oh, yes?’

At this moment a considerable section of the audience came streaming out and several patrons came in from outside. Dame Beatrice and Laura mounted one long flight of steps and were conducted down another to their seats at the front of the circle. The main feature was entitled: The Ghouls of Dead Man’s Creek.

‘Very suitable,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘At the interval I shall require a choc-ice and a bottle of some obnoxious liquid which I shall imbibe through a straw.’

‘When in Rome, and all that, I suppose,’ said Laura. ‘Sure you wouldn’t like me to dash out for some fish and chips?’

There was a message for Dame Beatrice when they got back to their hotel.

‘Would you please ring your son at his home address, Dame Beatrice?’

Dame Beatrice did so and was told by Ferdinand Lestrange that, at his last remand before the magistrates, Chelion Piper had been released and the police had withdrawn the charges.

‘I don’t know whether you or Cox, Cox, Rufford and Cox have pulled it off,’ said Ferdinand, ‘Congratulations, anyway.’