“Miss Jubbles,” said Harry, picking up Rose’s cup. “Please drink this.”
“I r-really d-don’t feel l-like drinking tea at the moment,” stammered Miss Jubbles.
“It’s simply to put Miss Levine’s fears at rest. She thinks there is something in the tea.”
“Why, that is ridiculous,” said Miss Jubbles, turning red. “I’ll show you.” She picked up the cup of tea and drank it down.
“There!” she panted.
“You see, Miss Levine?” said Harry. “I think an apology is in order.”
“I am very sorry,” said Daisy.
“You may go, Miss Jubbles.”
Miss Jubbles retreated to her room and sat there miserably. She had already taken senna powder that morning and knew that this added dose would have dire results.
“Now, where were we?” said Harry.
“Discussing possible blackmail,” said Rose. “I think perhaps you went about it the wrong way.”
“What makes you say that?”
“To bluntly ask Mrs Stockton whether she was being blackmailed puts her on her guard.”
“And how would you have gone about it?”
“I have started,” said Rose. “I shall befriend Mrs Stockton. I shall get close to her. In order to find out why she was being blackmailed, I have to understand her better.”
“Very well. For my part,” said Harry, “I must visit Freddy’s parents and see if they are prepared to employ me.”
“Who are his parents?” asked Daisy.
“A certain Colonel and Mrs Pomfret. I believe they are in town. They have a town house in Kensington.”
“What about Detective Superintendent Kerridge?”
“I phoned him with my lack of success with Mrs Jerry and Lord Alfred and he said in that weary way of his that he should never have left it to amateurs and that he would see them himself.”
¦
Kerridge had had every intention of interviewing the suspects. It was his job. But he admitted to himself that he’d been cowardly in letting Captain Cathcart go first.
Accompanied by Detective Inspector Judd, he set out to interview Lord Alfred Curtis. At least he knew that the young lord was expecting him. His secretary had made an appointment.
The gas lamps had already been lit and a thin drizzle was falling as he was driven in the new police car to Lord Alfred’s residence.
He climbed down from the car with great reluctance. He detested interviewing the aristocracy.
To his surprise and relief, he was warmly welcomed. Lord Alfred rose to his feet and advanced on him with hand outstretched when Kerridge was ushered into a pretty drawing-room.
“Do sit down, Mr Kerridge,” said Lord Alfred. “Miserable evening, what? May I offer you something?”
“Nothing, I thank you,” said Kerridge. “Do you know why I am here?”
“It’s something to do with poor Freddy’s death, is it not? I had that peculiar Captain Cathcart here earlier accusing me of being blackmailed by Freddy. Ridiculous! When a gentleman sinks to trade, it alters his very brain. Sees common little plots and conspiracies everywhere.”
“We have ascertained that three people each paid Mr Pomfret the sum of ten thousand pounds. We did think it might be a case of blackmail.”
“Well, now I’ve calmed down, I can see why you might jump to that conclusion. But the man was on his uppers. Some people will gamble ferociously when they haven’t got the ready. Poor, poor Freddy. I never even thought to ask for an IOU, so it’s not as if I can even claim on his estate. Who are the other two?”
“At this stage of the investigation, I would prefer not to say, my lord. Now, do you know of any enemies Mr Pomfret might have had?”
“The trouble is, one didn’t know him very
“And yet you lent him a vast sum of money.”
“To tell the truth, I had drunk a little more than was good for me. It’s all coming back to me. It was in The Club. Everything was a bit jolly, and so when Freddy sprang the request on me, I gave him a cheque, almost without thinking. The claret at The Club is very good, but it does produce a dangerous feeling of euphoria. I was quite convinced at that time that he must be one of my dearest friends.”
“And Mr Pomfret specifically asked for ten thousand pounds?”
“Oh, yes, just like that. Tristram Baker-Willis was there at the time. He did protest, you know. ‘I say, Freddy, that’s a bit steep.’ Those were his very words.”
“Ah. Where can I find Mr Baker-Willis?”
“At this time, he’ll be at his diggings in Pall Mall, getting ready for the evening ahead.” He gave the detective superintendent the number in Pall Mall.
“I think that will be all for the moment,” said Kerridge, rising to his feet.
¦
Tristram Baker-Willis was just as Kerridge remembered him. He had met the young man the previous year during investigations at Telby Castle. Tristram had a very white face, thick lips and black hair greased to a high shine. His waistcoat was a riot of brightly embroidered silk flowers.
“We have just been paying Lord Alfred Curtis a visit,” began Kerridge. “Judd, what did he say?”
The detective opened his notebook, flicked the pages and then repeated what Lord Alfred had said about Tristram being present when Freddy had asked for that loan.
“Yes, that’s right,” said Tristram. “Anything else?”
“Yes, of course. Do you mean that Mr Pomfret went straight up to Lord Alfred and said, ‘Lend me ten thousand pounds?’”
“Yes, something like that. I said, ‘Hey, Freddy! What are you doing?’ Lord Alfred had taken drink. He wrote out that cheque with such a shaky hand, I thought Freddy would never be able to cash it.”
“Well, he did. Mr Pomfret was also paid ten thousand pounds by two other people.”
“Good heavens! Good old Freddy. Wish I had his talent for getting money out of people. Do you mean two other people paid him ten thousand
“That is so. Do you know if it is possible that Mr Pomfret was indulging in blackmail?”
“Hey, he was a friend of mine. Stout fellow. Wouldn’t harm a fly.” Tristram leaned forward and said earnestly, “Look here, Inspector…”
“Superintendent.”
“Superintendent. You usually deal with the lower classes and it has given you a warped view of life. Such as we do not go around blackmailing people.”
“Had Mr Pomfret any enemies?”
“No, everybody liked Freddy. I liked Freddy. Best friend I ever had.” Tristram took a handkerchief out of his sleeve and blew his nose loudly.
“So,” said Kerridge heavily, “my inspector has a note of your evidence. I gather you would be prepared to stand up in court, kiss the Bible, and say the same thing?”
“Court! It’ll never come to court.”
“Why not? It’s murder and I intend to find the murderer.”
Tristram kneaded the handkerchief between his fingers and scowled at the floor. Then his face cleared. “Ah, but only if Alfred is the murderer, and that is ridiculous.”
“That will be all for now,” said Kerridge. “If you would be so good as to call at Scotland Yard tomorrow, we will take your statement, type it up, and you may sign it.”
Tristram looked to right and left as if seeking a way out. “Can’t,” he said finally. “Going to the country tomorrow.”
“Then I suggest you come with us now.”
“No, I won’t,” said Tristram. “I must warn you that I have friends at the Palace.”
“Mr Baker-Willis, unless you are prepared to make an official statement, I must assume you are lying.”
Tristram stared at him for a long moment. Then he shrugged. “May as well get it over with. I’ll come
