Nest of Vipers

witnesses and the scribble on a dirty little piece of paper matter? I shall always stick to Su and she will always stick to me. I don’t keep an eye on her, you know, only on the fellows who’d like to muscle in on my patch. I’ll kill if I have to. Simple as that.’

‘Simplicity appears to be your strong suit, Mr Moore.’

‘Sure. With Su and me it’s like the old song says: I know where I’m going, and I know who’s going with me.’

‘It goes on: I know whom I love, but the Dear knows whom I’ll marry!

‘I shall never marry except in one eventuality, so let the Dear look after his own.’

‘His own, perhaps – or one of them – being Miss Minnie’s murderer?’

‘You said it. Simple as that. You know, Dame – OK Mrs Farintosh – I don’t understand about that old lady’s death. She was a bit off-beat, maybe even a little loose from the neck up, but I’ll swear she was harmless.’

‘The anonymous letters?’

‘Phooee! I don’t believe she wrote nary a one of ’em.’

‘Have you any grounds for that belief?’

Irelath grinned.

‘I haven’t the sort of proof a policeman would accept, but you might be willing to consider it. I guess that poor little runt Shard wrote them.’

‘There appears to be one, at least, which he did not write.’

‘Oh? Which would that be?’

‘The letter or, as I think, letters, which got Miss Kennett and Miss Barnes out of the house.’

‘Oh, you know about them, do you? That damned woman Constance Kent, I suppose, going all orthodox and righteous. Well, her heaven-made marriage doesn’t seem to go so very well. I suppose she couldn’t stand the sight of two people who could get on together. I suspect her of having had a go at Sumatra and me, but, although I tackled her, she denied it, and I could have been wrong.’

‘So what makes you think of Mr Shard?’

‘He’s a devious, listening-at-keyholes little bit of nonsense, and he’s got a permanent chip on his shoulder because of his lack of inches. But about poor old Minnie. Why should anybody kill her?’

‘The answer to that lies in what has been called “the psychology of the individual”.’

‘Well, that’s up your street rather than mine. Too bad, though, that Piper has to take the rap. Are you going to winkle him out of it?’

‘Your metaphors are deplorably mixed.’

‘It’s the Irish in me. Say, when you’re free, will you come to lunch with Su and me? She dishes up something pretty special in the way of a curry.’

(2)

‘To sum up’ (wrote Dame Beatrice to Laura) ‘the consensus of opinion here is that Chelion Piper is innocent. So far, I have come upon no evidence to show that this majority verdict is either right or wrong, I went to lunch yesterday with Irelath and Sumatra, ate a fearful and wonderful meal prepared and cooked by the latter and had further speech with Irelath while she was doing the washing-up. It was he who gave me the general opinion, but, of course, he may be mistaken.

‘This morning I issued my own invitation to Cassie McHaig and Mr Hempseed for cocktails in the bungalow. George will act as barman. My invitation has been accepted, so I will let you know later if any developments ensue. I have yet to talk to these two privately and also I want to see Mr Evans when his wife is not present.

‘After that, it will be necessary to trace Miss Kennett and Miss Barnes. I have been given (by Irelath Moore) the name of the newspaper for which Miss Kennett works, so it should not be a difficult matter to find out her new address. Irelath recognised me, but has remained most discreet about my identity. It seems that he was among my audience at a lecture somewhere or other. He further informs me that if Sumatra becomes pregnant he will marry her at once in case his “old man cuts up rough and acts sticky” about his inheritance. This statement was followed by what appears to be his verbal signature (if there can be such a thing; you may prefer to call it his signature tune). This consists of the words: “It’s as simple as that.” He added that if I recollected our previous conversation he would like to add that any stick will do if one intends to beat a dog. So far, I am of his opinion that Chelion Piper has been what the criminal classes called “framed”.

‘Opinions about Miss Minnie, incidentally, vary, but that is to be expected. After I have talked with the inhabitants past and present of Weston Pipers I must find out more about her from those who were part of her life before she took up residence in the bungalow. When I have seen the rest of the tenants, and before I interview these “outsiders”, I shall talk with Miss Niobe Nutley. She strikes me as a formidable young woman who will want to know (in your own phrase) what the hell I am up to, as, of course, these probings of mine must reach a point where they will be regarded as something more significant than the idle curiosity of a nose-poking old woman.’

(3)

Apart from the satisfaction which comes from returning hospitality, Dame Beatrice gained little from entertaining Cassie McHaig and Polly Hempseed. For one thing, they had quarrelled and at first found it difficult to be even civil to one another. Apart from that, it soon became clear that neither believed Chelion Piper to be guilty and both thought Miss Minnie to have written the anonymous letters. These, both were convinced, were what had led to her death, although neither was prepared to name her murderer.

‘Stands to reason,’ said Hempseed, swallowing his drink and reaching out for another, ‘that the police have fixed on Piper. After all, we know nothing of his life before he took over Nest of Vipers – yes, it is still funny and I shall call it that, Cassie, if I choose – except that he had lived for a year in Paris. In Paris! Well, I ask you! I bet he collected enough of a past there to last him a lifetime and somehow or other the police guess that Minnie got to know about it. Suppose he wronged her daughter—’