No Wind of Blame

‘Oh, I shouldn’t paddle there!’ Vicky said, quite distressed. ‘It’s a very muddy, dirty kind of a pond. My mother never used to let me go in it.’

‘Miss, will you call off your dog?’ begged Fisher, against whose legs the spaniel was thrusting his stick.

‘Do you mind frightfully if I don’t?’ said Vicky. ‘He’s bound to shake himself all over me, you see, and I don’t much want him to.’

Hugh, who had been interestedly surveying the treasures collected from the bosom of the pool, took pity on the police. ‘All right, I’ll rescue you,’ he said. ‘Stand clear, Vicky! Come here, Prince! Bring it!’

The spaniel, hopeful of finding a more willing playmate, left the pool, laid his stick at Hugh’s feet, and shook himself generously over Hugh’s trousers. Hugh knotted his handkerchief through the dog’s collar, and bade Vicky remove him from the scene.

‘Yes, but I want to watch what they’re doing!’ Vicky demurred.

‘No, go up to the house,’ Hugh said. ‘I’ll join you later – when I’ve discovered what all this is about.’

‘Not even a fusty lawyer can just carelessly fling orders at me,’ said Vicky, as one imparting valuable information.

‘That’s all right, ducky: you can play at being the child-wife married to a drunken bully,’ suggested Hugh.

This immediately caught Vicky’s ever-lively imagination. ‘Yes, or a Roman slave.’

‘Or a Roman slave,’ agreed Hugh, giving the end of the handkerchief into her hold.

From the opposite side of the pool, Inspector Hemingway watched Miss Fanshawe’s departure with undisguised relief. When, however, he saw that Mr Hugh Dering, instead of accompanying her, was walking on towards a point where the stream could be jumped, his satisfaction waned swiftly. He called: ‘Now, look here, sir, I’m busy, and I can’t have you messing about here now!’

Hugh cleared the stream, and walked towards him. ‘Can’t you?’ he said. ‘Well, of course, if you won’t have me on this side of the stream, I’ll go back and watch you from the other side. I dare say Miss Fanshawe and her mother would like to come and watch, too, though of course I can’t promise that they won’t bring the dogs with them.’

Sergeant Wake bent a shocked stare upon him. Hemingway said: ‘Oh! Nice state of affairs, I must say, if the police are to be blackmailed by gentlemen of your profession, sir! Now, you know very well you’ve no right to come meddling here!’

‘Don’t worry, I won’t meddle. But all this earnest search leads me to suppose that new and startling evidence has cropped up. Moreover, you are holding in your hand, Inspector, something that bears all the appearance of a vice. From which I deduce that, contrary to expectations, the rifle found here was not fired by hand. Correct me if I’m wrong, my dear Watson.’

Hemingway shook his head. ‘Yes, you’re wasted at the Chancery Bar: I can see that,’ he said. ‘All the same—’

‘Hold!’ said Hugh. ‘These things being as they are, I am further led to suppose that you are about to lay bare evidence which will clear the fair name of the lady to whom I am shortly to be joined in holy matrimony. I contend that this gives me a right to be here.’

‘Oh, so that’s been fixed up, has it?’ said Hemingway. ‘Well, I’m sure I hope you’ll be very happy, sir. I’ve been expecting to hear of it ever since I came down to these parts.’

‘When you first came here I hadn’t the slightest intention of getting married,’ said Hugh. ‘However, don’t let me spoil your good story.’

‘I won’t,’ said the Inspector. ‘What you don’t grasp, sir, is that if there is one thing I’ve got, it’s intuition. Besides, it’s been standing out a mile. But as for your having any right to be here, that’s another matter. Still, I can see that Inspector Cook wants me to let you stay, so I suppose you’ll have to.’

‘I never!’ Cook exclaimed, taken by surprise. ‘Why, I never said a word!’

‘Well, if you don’t want me to let him stay rather than have a couple of women and two dogs getting in the way, I’ve been mistaken in you,’ said Hemingway. ‘What’s more, he knows too much already.’

‘Hair-trigger,’ said Hugh. ‘You might almost call me your good angel. Hallo, one of your henchmen has caught a fish!’

The Inspector turned, as Jupp came to the edge of the pool, holding an odd-looking object in his hand.

‘Would this be what you’re after, sir?’

The Inspector took it. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, it might be. At any rate, it didn’t grow in the pool. Know anything about these things, sir?’

‘About as much as the next man,’ Hugh replied. ‘I know it’s an electro-magnet. I don’t immediately see the connection between it and the rifle, though. Do you?’

Hemingway shook his head. ‘I’m bound to say I haven’t figured it out. You know a bit about electrical gadgets, Wake: could you fire a rifle with this?’

‘No,’ replied the Sergeant. ‘I don’t see any sense to it. Even when you pass current through it, it wouldn’t have any effect on the rifle-trigger. Couldn’t have.’

‘Well, go on searching,’ said Hemingway, waving Jupp back to the pool. ‘Maybe you’ll find something more. Though I’ve got a hunch this thing did the trick.’