‘I see – or, rather, I don’t. Shall I go on?’
‘No, thank you, child. There is no need for you to tax your memory further. I have found out what I wanted to know. Three more persons have been murdered. They are two males and one female, and I no longer believe that two of them are the Shurrocks. Besides, at their burial, Pisces had changed from a woman into a man. Is not that significant?’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Fresh Evidence
‘Two obvious conclusions presented themselves to my mind, after hearing it. In the first place, I saw darkly what the nature of the conspiracy had been; how chances had been watched, and how circumstances had been handled….’
Wilkie Collins – The Woman in White
‘It’s Detective-Inspector Callon on the telephone, Adela,’ said Hubert, some days later. ‘He wants to talk to you.’
‘Could you come over to Cridley again, Dame Beatrice,’ said Callon, ‘and bring Mrs Pardieu with you? We’ve got some news which may surprise you. Those three bodies which the zodiacs put in the tomb have been identified, and they’re not the ones we thought they were.’
‘I’ll come this afternoon,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘Meanwhile, something which somebody said some time ago has given me a notion which you might care to consider between now and when we meet. You remember that when you were asking about kitchen knives and so forth at the manor house (and, I imagine, in your house-to-house enquiries in the village), somebody remarked that the description you gave of the murder weapon was reminiscent of a museum piece?’
‘Yes, indeed, ma’am.’
‘Well, there is a folk museum in the village, you know. It might just be worth while to pay it a visit, I think. Oh, and while you are looking at knives, you might also think about policemen’s truncheons. I am told by my great-niece that she saw several when she was there. Heavy ancient ones.’
‘Policemen’s truncheons?’
‘And then find out from the forensic experts whether a heavy, old-fashioned truncheon could have been used to kill the three people you mention. As they are not the people we assumed they might be, I take it that they are Clytie, Bob and the youth whose name I do not know, but whom we may call Aries.’
‘What makes you think of him, Dame Beatrice? He had nothing to do with the people at the More to Come’
‘I will tell you what I think, and why I think it, when I see you. I should be with you by four, if not sooner.’
Callon said, when they met in the superintendent’s office:
‘So the news isn’t really a surprise to you, Dame Beatrice. By the way, we took your tip and had a look round that museum at Seven Wells, and I think your hint may be going to pay off. We found the knife, of course, with which Sir Bathy was killed, but even though it came from the museum it’s going to be difficult to find out who purloined it and whether, whoever took it is the actual murderer. Oh, and we got the curator chap on the go, and he says the heaviest of the truncheons is missing.’
When Soames emerged from his office at the Cridley headquarters and greetings had been exchanged, the superintendent said:
‘We’ve other visitors, ma’am, so perhaps Mrs Pardieu will identify them for us and then you may like to hear their story.’ The sergeant who was in attendance opened the door to an inner room and invited the occupants to come out. ‘Now, Mrs Pardieu,’ the superintendent went on, turning to Fenella, ‘I believe you can identify these persons.’
‘Why, of course,’ said Fenella. ‘How do you do, Mrs Shurrock? Mr Shurrock? And this is Sukie, Superintendent. I’m afraid I don’t know her other name.’
‘Lee,’ said the gipsy, scowling, ‘same like the rest of my tribe.’
‘Our London people found them,’ said Callon. ‘Now let’s hear the story all over again, Shurrock. I’m sure Dame Beatrice will be interested.’
‘I shan’t alter it for her benefit or yours,’ said the landlord. ‘I’ve done nothing wrong, and neither have the others. We did skip, but it was only to save ourselves, or so we thought.’
‘Do you know who murdered Sir Bathy?’ asked Dame Beatrice, looking directly at the gipsy. ‘You knew more about him than anyone else did, I think.’
‘So I was his fancy. So what?’ said Sukie belligerently. ‘Anything wrong in that?’
‘Ah,’ said Shurrock, his face clearing to its habitual expression of good humour, ‘folks put it about as Sukie was my light o’love, and we never contradicted it, wishing to do Sir Bathy a favour. Kept his secret well, we did, and not many evenings as he didn’t spend down at the More to Come’
‘Nothing wrong in it,’ said Sukie. ‘He wanted company, that’s all. Couldn’t get it at home, not the sort of company he fancied, so had it with me after he’d had his drop of beer down in the bar.’
‘Very natural,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘When did you find out that he had been killed?’
‘Same night as it happened,’ said Mrs Shurrock, speaking for the first time. ‘Officially Jem and I never knew how he spent his evenings once he’d left the saloon, which he did around half-past nine, although we did know he didn’t go straight home. That son of his had took his wife, you see?’
‘Officially you didn’t know what he did. Actually, you knew perfectly well that he was with Mrs Lee?’
‘Let’s say we guessed, then.’
‘I used to let him out by the big door in the room over the old cellar as used to be part of the old church,’ said Sukie. ‘Eleven o’clock on the dot I used to let him out, so he wouldn’t be spotted leaving the place after hours by way of the bar.’
‘So that Saturday night,’ said Shurrock, taking up the tale, ‘Sukie didn’t come back, like she always did, to wash up glasses and clear away
