Murder Is Easy (Superintendent Battle 4)

“But someone could quite easily have given him a shove?”

“Oh, yes.”

“And somebody else could quite easily have given nasty little Tommy a push when he was window cleaning?”

“Again yes.”

“So it boils down to the fact that it’s really quite easy to remove three human beings without anyone suspecting.”

“Miss Pinkerton suspected,” Bridget pointed out.

“So she did, bless her. She wasn’t troubled with ideas of being too melodramatic, or of imagining things.”

“She often told me the world was a very wicked place.”

“And you smiled tolerantly, I suppose?”

“In a superior manner!”

“Anybody who can believe six impossible things before breakfast wins hands down at this game.”

Bridget nodded.

Luke said:

“I suppose it’s no good my asking you if you’ve a hunch of any kind? There’s no particular individual in Wychwood who gives you a creepy feeling down the spine, or who has strange pale eyes—or a queer maniacal giggle.”

“Everybody I’ve met in Wychwood appears to me to be eminently sane, respectable, and completely ordinary.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” said Luke.

Bridget said:

“You think this man is definitely mad?”

“Oh, I should say so. A lunatic all right, but a cunning one. The last person you’d ever suggest—probably a pillar of society like a Bank Manager.”

“Mr. Jones? I certainly can’t imagine him committing wholesale murders.”

“Then he’s probably the man we want.”

“It may be anyone,” said Bridget. “The butcher, the baker, the grocer, a farm labourer, a road mender, or the man who delivers the milk.”

“It may be—yes—but I think the field is a little more restricted than that.”

“Why?”

“My Miss Pinkerton spoke of the look in his eyes when he was measuring up his next victim. From the way she spoke I got the impression—it’s only an impression, mark you—that the man she was speaking of was at least her social equal. Of course, I may be wrong.”

“You’re probably quite right! Those nuances of conversation can’t be put down in black and white, but they’re the sort of things one doesn’t really make mistakes about.”

“You know,” said Luke, “it’s a great relief to have you knowing all about it.”

“It will probably cramp your style less, I agree. And I can probably help you.”

“Your help will be invaluable. You really mean to see it through?”

“Of course.”

Luke said with a sudden slight embarrassment:

“What about Lord Whitfield? Do you think—?”

“Naturally we don’t tell Gordon anything about it!” said Bridget.

“You mean he wouldn’t believe it?”

“Oh, he’d believe it! Gordon could believe anything! He’d probably be simply thrilled and insist on having half a dozen of his bright young men down to beat up the neighbourhood! He’d simply adore it!”

“That does rather rule it out,” agreed Luke.

“Yes, we can’t allow him to have his simple pleasures, I’m afraid.”

Luke looked at her. He seemed about to say something then changed his mind. He looked instead at his watch.

“Yes,” said Bridget, “we ought to be getting home.”

She got up. There was a sudden constraint between them as though Luke’s unspoken words hovered uncomfortably in the air.

They walked home in silence.

Seven

POSSIBILITIES

Luke sat in his bedroom. At lunch time he had sustained an interrogation by Mrs. Anstruther as to what flowers he had had in his garden in the Mayang Straits. He had then been told what flowers would have done well there. He had also listened to further “Talks to Young Men on the Subject of Myself” by Lord Whitfield. Now he was mercifully alone.

He took a sheet of paper and wrote down a series of names. It ran as follows:

Dr. Thomas.

Mr. Abbot.

Major Horton.

Mr. Ellsworthy.

Mr. Wake.

Mr. Jones.

Amy’s young man.

The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker, etc.

He then took another sheet of paper and headed it VICTIMS. Under this heading, he wrote:

Amy Gibbs: Poisoned.

Tommy Pierce: Pushed out of window.

Harry Carter: Shoved off footbridge (drunk? drugged?).

Dr. Humbleby: Blood Poisoning.

Miss Pinkerton: Run down by car.

He added:

Mrs. Rose?

Old Ben?

And after a pause:

Mrs. Horton?

He considered his lists, smoked awhile, then took up his pencil once more.

Dr. Thomas: Possible case against him.

Definite motive in the case of Dr. Humbleby. Manner of latter’s death suitable—namely, scientific poisoning by germs. Amy Gibbs visited him on afternoon of the day she died. (Anything between them? Blackmail?)

Tommy Pierce? No connection known. (Did Tommy know of connection between him and Amy Gibbs?)

Harry Carter? No connection known.

Was Dr. Thomas absent from Wychwood on the day Miss Pinkerton went to London?

Luke sighed and started a fresh heading:

Mr. Abbot: Possible case against him.

(Feel a lawyer is definitely a suspicious person. Possibly prejudice.) His personality, florid, genial, etc., would be definitely suspicious in a book—always suspect bluff genial men. Objection: this is not a book, but real life.

Motive for murder of Dr. Humbleby. Definite antagonism existed between them. H. defied Abbot. Sufficient motive for a deranged brain. Antagonism could have been easily noted by Miss Pinkerton.

Tommy Pierce? Latter snooped among Abbot’s papers. Did he find out

something he shouldn’t have known?

Harry Carter? No definite connection.

Amy Gibbs? No connection known. Hat paint quite suitable to Abbot’s mentality—an old-fashioned mind. Was Abbot away from the village the day Miss Pinkerton was killed?

Major Horton: Possible case against him.

No connection known with Amy Gibbs, Tommy Pierce or Carter.

What about Mrs. Horton? Death sounds as though it might be arsenical poisoning. If so other murders might be result of that—blackmail? NB—Thomas was doctor in attendance. (Suspicious for Thomas again.)

Mr. Ellsworthy: Possible case against him.

Nasty bit of goods—dabbles in black magic. Might be temperament of a bloodlust killer. Connection with Amy Gibbs. Any connection with Tommy Pierce? Carter? Nothing known. Humbleby? Might have tumbled to Ellsworthy’s mental condition.

Miss Pinkerton? Was Ellsworthy away from Wychwood when Miss Pinkerton was killed?

Mr. Wake: Possible case against him.

Very unlikely. Possible religious mania? A mission to kill?

Saintly old clergymen likely starters in books, but (as before) this is real life.

Note. Carter, Tommy, Amy all definitely unpleasant characters. Better removed by divine decree?

Mr. Jones.

Data—none.

Amy’s young man.

Probably every reason to kill Amy—but seems unlikely on general grounds.

The etceteras?

Don’t fancy them.

He read through what he had written.

Then he shook his head.

He murmured softly:

“—which is absurd! How nicely Euclid put things.”

He tore up the lists and burnt them.

He said to himself:

“This job isn’t going to be exactly easy.”

Eight

DR. THOMAS

Dr. Thomas leant back in his chair, and passed a long delicate hand over his thick fair hair. He was a young man whose appearance was deceptive. Though he was over thirty, a casual glance would have put him down in the early twenties if not in his teens. His shock of rather unruly fair hair, his slightly startled expression and his pink and white complexion gave him an irresistibly schoolboyish appearance. Immature as he might look, though, the diagnosis he had just pronounced on Luke’s rheumatic knee agreed almost precisely with that delivered by an eminent Harley Street specialist only a week earlier.