The Mystery of a Butcher's Shop

I

THE next thing to do, the inspector decided, was to discover the owner of the suitcase. This proved simple. Redsey, confronted by his cousin’s initials, agreed that the case was Rupert Sethleigh’s, but most emphatically denied all knowledge of how it came to be buried in the woods. Neither could he explain the bloodstained condition of its interior.

‘The last I remember about that suitcase,’ he declared, ‘is getting Rupert to lend it to the vicar when he went for his holiday in May – that is – last month. It seems a long time ago, somehow.’

The inspector went straight away to the Vicarage, where the Reverend Stephen, looking very foolish, agreed that the suitcase had probably been lent to him, but that he had forgotten all about it. He usually did forget all about things, he was sorry to say. Oh, here was his daughter. She would know more about it.

Felicity, appealed to, remembered perfectly well that her father had borrowed the suitcase, but thought he had returned it. However, he was so very absent-minded that it was more than possible he had forgotten all about it.

Then she told the inspector where she herself had found it, and of how she and Aubrey Harringay had decided to bury it in the Manor Woods.

‘I wonder why you should think of doing that, miss,’ said the inspector, without finding it necessary to add that the police had found it.

Felicity shook her head.

‘It just occurred to us,’ she said, with delightful vagueness.

The inspector went in search-of Aubrey Harringay.

‘Now, young man,’ he said sternly. ‘What made you decide to bury that suitcase?’

‘But I didn’t bury it, inspector.’

‘What’s that?’

‘I didn’t bury it. I was going to, but while I had gone for the fish, you know, some blighter pinched the case and hopped off with it.’

‘The fish? Was that the fish we found inside the case?’

‘Yes, it was. But I didn’t put it there, I swear I didn’t. I just buried the fish in the hole – for a lark, you know – and that’s all. I had nothing to do with putting it in the case or – or – writing those words.’

‘H’m!’ said the inspector non-committally, and went to the superintendent.

‘I haven’t tested Redsey’s alibi for Sunday night,’ he said. ‘But this is what I’ve got against him so far:

‘First: Had quarrelled with Sethleigh more than once. Plenty of witnesses to that.

‘Second: Admits knocked Sethleigh down. Sethleigh’s head struck trunk of tree. Redsey thought he had killed him, and confessed as much to me.

‘Third: Redsey stood to gain the house, estate, and most of the money belonging to Sethleigh if the latter died before altering his will.

‘Fourth: The bloodstained suitcase belonged to Sethleigh and has his initials on it. There is some evidence offered by Redsey to the effect that Sethleigh lent it this summer to the Reverend Stephen Broome. This statement is corroborated by the vicar and the vicar’s daughter. Redsey swears case was never returned. Vicar uncertain on this point. Daughter thinks case was returned. Vicar absent-minded and forgetful. Daughter very much the reverse.’

‘Of course,’ the superintendent demurred, ‘the suitcase isn’t important. There is nothing at all to connect it with the murder as far as we know at present. I think we might leave the suitcase out of it for a bit.’

‘The bloodstains, sir.’

‘Yes, well, we shall know more when we know whether it’s human blood or whether they carried home the week-end joint without enough paper wrapped round it. Case of wait and see. Still, there’s certainly a good deal of unexplained matter which could easily be worked into a case against the young fellow. He had the motive, you see. That’s the big thing.’

‘Yes, sir. Still, his prints don’t coincide with those on the butcher’s knife and cleaver. Those prints were made by that daft assistant who apparently parted with the key, and there’s nothing to connect him with the murder.’

‘No – but about James Redsey, now. You see, we can’t prove he dismembered the body even if we think he did the murder. What about the prints on the suitcase?’

‘Too confused to be trustworthy, sir. You see, at least four people have handled that case since somebody stowed it away on the Vicarage dust-heap.’

‘Four people?’

‘Yes. Young Harringay, Miss Broome, the sergeant, and me. And then, you see, it had been buried. That makes a difference.’

‘Yes, I see. Still, as I say, even without the suitcase, the whole thing looks pretty clear to me.’

‘Yes. It’s a darn sight too clear. That’s what I think,’ said Grindy. ‘It’s like picking apples off a tree. Too easy to be interesting. I don’t like that kind of evidence. Murders aren’t solved all that easy, sir, as you should know. That fellow Redsey is quite the sort of young chap as might do a murder – same as any of us – you don’t have to be a criminal to up and kill a man when all’s said and done. The feelings of that are in most of us, say what you please – but all the same, Mr Bidwell –’

‘You come along to my place, and have a bit of supper, Tom,’ said the superintendent kindly. ‘And don’t get highfalutin. You’ve got a bead on your man all right. I’ve thought so all along. You see, there have been nothing but family rows over that property since the grandfather’s time. The brother, this young Harringay’s father, was disinherited by the old man, and the two sisters had a lawsuit over the business – that’s Sethleigh’s mother and Redsey’s mother, you know – and a lawsuit over property in a family means bad blood all round – it doesn’t stop at a sisterly row between the two litigants. And now the trouble has worked downwards, and, in my opinion, young Redsey has just simply gone and cooked it. And, after all, dozens of men have been arrested on less than a quarter of the evidence you’ve got against him.’

‘Yes, I know.’ The inspector stared at the broad toes of his boots. ‘But it could all be explained away pretty easily. I mean, suppose Sethleigh were only stunned after all by that fall? Then, it seems pretty certain Redsey did not dismember the corpse – at least, we can’t prove at present that he did cut it up, and we can’t find an accomplice. Besides, on Monday night, and pretty late at that, it seems that Redsey was seen looking for the body.’

‘Eh?’

‘Well, we can’t prove that’s what he was looking for, but it seems feasible.’

‘Well?’

‘Well, don’t you see, that shows he didn’t know the body was dismembered and in Bossbury. He thought it was still in the bushes where he’d left it on the Sunday night.’

‘H’m! It’s a point. But in view of what you’ve got against him –’

‘Then the point about the will. He says he didn’t know his cousin was going to disinherit him, and we can’t prove that he did know.’

‘There’s that, certainly. But I expect he knew all right. I bet that is what the final row was all about, as a matter of fact. After all, he admits it was about money. You’ve only got to go a step further. After all, to be disinherited –’

‘Yes, I know, but did he know about the will? The alteration of the will, I mean. If he didn’t, you see –’

‘And if he did, Grindy – and I can’t see why he shouldn’t have known –’

‘Yes, sir. It’s a big point, of course. But proof, you see –’

‘Proof! Why, you’ve got your proof! The murder of Sethleigh is the proof! What more do you want?’

‘Somewhere,’ said Grindy slowly, shaking his head and laboriously working it out, ‘there’s a flaw in that argument.’

‘You come and have some grub,’ said the superintendent kindly. ‘That bit of gardening’s upset you!’