Cards on the Table hp-15 Page 8

  "Now, my dear," she said briskly, "don't let's beat about the bush. About this murder the other evening. We've got to get busy and do something."

  "Do something?" queried Anne.

  "Naturally," said Mrs. Oliver. "I don't know what you think, but I haven't the least doubt who did it. That doctor. What was his name? Roberts. That's it! Roberts. A Welsh name! I never trust the Welsh! I had a Welsh nurse and she took me to Harrogate one day and went home, having forgotten all about me. Very unstable. But never mind about her. Roberts did it – that's the point and we must put our heads together and prove he did."

  Rhoda Dawes laughed suddenly; then she blushed.

  "I beg your pardon. But you're – you're so different from what I would have imagined."

  "A disappointment, I expect," said Mrs. Oliver serenely. "I'm used to that. Never mind. What we must do is prove that Roberts did it!"

  "How can we?" said Anne.

  "Oh, don't be so defeatist, Anne," cried Rhoda Dawes. "I think Mrs. Oliver's splendid. Of course she knows all about these things. She'll do just as Sven Hjerson does."

  Blushing slightly at the name of her celebrated Finnish detective Mrs. Oliver said, "It's got to be done, and I'll tell you why, child. You don't want people thinking you did it?"

  "Why should they?" asked Anne, her color rising.

  "You know what people are!" said Mrs. Oliver. "The three who didn't do it will come in for just as much suspicion as the one who did."

  Anne Meredith said slowly, "I still don't quite see why you come to me, Mrs. Oliver?"

  "Because in my opinion the other two don't matter! Mrs. Lorrimer is one of those women who play bridge at bridge clubs all day. Women like that must be made of armor plating; they can look after themselves all right! And anyway she's old. It wouldn't matter if anyone thought she'd done it. A girl's different. She's got her life in front of her."

  "And Major Despard?" asked Anne.

  "Pah!" said Mrs. Oliver. "He's a man! I never worry about men. Men can look after themselves. Do it remarkably well if you ask me. Besides Major Despard enjoys a dangerous life. He's getting his fun at home instead of on the Irrawaddy – or do I mean the Limpopo? You know what I mean – that yellow African river that men like so much. No, I'm not worrying my head about either of those two."

  "It's very kind of you," said Anne slowly.

  "It was a beastly thing to happen," said Rhoda. "It's broken Anne up, Mrs. Oliver. She's awfully sensitive. And I think you're quite right. It would be ever so much better to do something than just to sit here thinking about it all."

  "Of course it would," said Mrs. Oliver. "To tell you the truth a real murder has never come my way before. And to continue telling the truth I don't believe real murder is very much in my line. I'm so used to loading the dice – if you understand what I mean. But I wasn't going to be out of it and let those three men have all the fun to themselves. I've always said that if a woman were the head of Scotland Yard -"

  "Yes?" said Rhoda, leaning forward with parted lips. "If you were head of Scotland Yard what would you do?"

  "I should arrest Doctor Roberts straight away -"

  "Yes?"

  "However, I'm not the head of Scotland Yard" said Mrs. Oliver, retreating from dangerous ground. "I'm a private individual -"

  "Oh, you're not that," said Rhoda, confusedly complimentary.

  "Here we are," continued Mrs. Oliver, "three private individuals – all women. Let us see what we can do by putting our heads together."

  Anne Meredith nodded thoughtfully. Then she said, "Why do you think Doctor Roberts did it?"

  "He's that sort of man," replied Mrs. Oliver promptly.

  "Don't you think, though -" Anne hesitated. "Wouldn't a doctor – I mean, something like poison would be so much easier for him."

  "Not at all. Poison – drugs – of any kind would point straight to a doctor. Look how they are always leaving cases of dangerous drugs in cars all over London and getting them stolen. No, just because he was a doctor he'd take special care not to use anything of a medical kind."

  "I see," said Anne doubtfully.

  Then she said, "But why do you think he wanted to kill Mr. Shaitana? Have you any idea?"

  "Idea? I've got any amount of ideas. In fact that's just the difficulty. It always is my difficulty. I can never think of even one plot at a time. I always think of at least five, and then it's agony to decide among them. I can think of six beautiful reasons for the murder. The trouble is I've no earthly means of knowing which is right. To begin with perhaps Shaitana was a moneylender. He had a very oily look. Roberts was in his clutches and killed him because he couldn't get the money to repay the loan. Or perhaps Shaitana ruined his daughter or his sister. Or possibly Roberts is a bigamist and Shaitana knew it. Or possibly Roberts married Shaitana's second cousin and will inherit all Shaitana's money through her. Or – how many have I got to?"

  "Four," said Rhoda.

  "Or – and this is a really good one – suppose Shaitana knew some secret in Roberts's past. Perhaps you didn't notice, my dear, but Shaitana said something rather peculiar at dinner, just before a rather queer pause."

  Anne stooped to tickle a caterpillar. She said, "I don't think I remember."

  "What did he say?" asked Rhoda.

  "Something about – what was it – an accident and poison. Don't you remember?"

  Anne's left hand tightened on the basketwork of her chair.

  "I do remember something of the kind," she said composedly.

  Rhoda said suddenly, "Darling, you ought to have a coat. It's not summer, remember. Go and get one."

  Anne shook her head. "I'm quite warm."

  But she gave a little shiver as she spoke.

  "You see my theory," went on Mrs. Oliver. "I daresay one of the doctor's patients poisoned himself by accident, but of course, really, it was the doctor's own doing. I daresay he's murdered lots of people that way."

  A sudden color came into Anne's cheeks. She said, "Do doctors usually want to murder their patients wholesale? Wouldn't it have rather a regrettable effect on their practice?"

  "There would be a reason, of course," said Mrs. Oliver vaguely.

  "I think the idea is absurd," said Anne crisply. "Absolutely absurdly melodramatic."

  "Oh, Anne!" cried Rhoda in an agony of apology. She looked at Mrs. Oliver. Her eyes, rather like those of an intelligent spaniel, seemed to be trying to say something. "Try and understand. Try and understand," those eyes said.

  "I think it's a splendid idea, Mrs. Oliver," Rhoda said earnestly. "And a doctor could get hold of something quite untraceable, couldn't he?"

  "Oh!" exclaimed Anne.

  The other two turned to look at her.

  "I remember something else," she said. "Mr. Shaitana said something about a doctor's opportunities in a laboratory. He must have meant something by that."

  "It wasn't Mr. Shaitana who said that." Mrs. Oliver shook her head. "It was Major Despard."

  A footfall on the garden walk made her turn her head.

  "Well," she exclaimed. "Talk of the devil."

  Major Despard had just come round the corner of the house.

  Chapter 13

  SECOND VISITOR

  At the sight of Mrs. Oliver, Major Despard looked slightly taken aback. Under his tan his face flushed a rich brick red. Embarrassment made him jerky. He made for Anne. "I apologize, Miss Meredith," he said. "Been ringing your bell. Nothing happened. Was passing this way. Thought I might just look you up."

  "I'm so sorry you've been ringing," said Anne. "We haven't got a maid – only a woman who comes in, in the mornings."

  She introduced him to Rhoda. Rhoda said briskly,

  "Let's have some tea. It's getting chilly. We'd better go in."

  They all went into the house. Rhoda disappeared into the kitchen. Mrs. Oliver said, "This is quite a coincidence – our all meeting here."

  Despard said slowly, "Yes."

  His eyes rested on her thoughtfull
y – appraising eyes.

  "I've been telling Miss Meredith," said Mrs. Oliver, who was thoroughly enjoying herself, "that we ought to have a plan of campaign. About the murder, I mean. Of course that doctor did it. Don't you agree with me?"

  "Couldn't say. Very little to go on."

  Mrs. Oliver put on her "how like a man" expression.

  A certain air of constraint had settled over the three. Mrs. Oliver sensed it quickly enough. When Rhoda brought in tea, she rose and said she must be getting back to town. No, it was ever so kind of them but she wouldn't have any tea.

  "I'm going to leave you my card," she said. "Here it is with my address on it. Come and see me when you come up to town and we'll talk everything over and see if we can't think of something ingenious to get to the bottom of things."

  "I'll come out to the gate with you," said Rhoda.

  Just as they were walking down the path to the front gate Anne Meredith ran out of the house and overtook them. "I've been thinking things over," she said. Her pale face looked unusually resolute.

  "Yes, my dear?"

  "It's extraordinarily kind of you, Mrs. Oliver, to have taken all this trouble. But I'd really rather not do anything at all. I mean – it was all so horrible. I just want to forget about it."

  "My dear child, the question is will you be allowed to forget about it?"

  "Oh, I quite understand that the police won't let it drop. They'll probably come here and ask me a lot more questions – I'm prepared for that. But privately, I mean, I don't want to think about it – or be reminded of it in any way. I daresay I'm a coward, but that's how I feel about it."

  "Oh! Anne," cried Rhoda Dawes.

  "I can understand your feeling, but I'm not at all sure that you're wise," said Mrs. Oliver. "Left to themselves the police will probably never find out the truth."

  Anne Meredith shrugged her shoulders.

  "Does that really matter?"

  "Matter?" cried Rhoda. "Of course it matters. It does matter, doesn't it, Mrs. Oliver?"

  "I should certainly say so," said Mrs. Oliver dryly.

  "I don't agree," said Anne obstinately. "Nobody who knows me would ever think I'd done it. I don't see any reason for interfering. It's the business of the police to get at the truth."

  "Oh, Anne, you are spiritless," said Rhoda.

  "That's how I feel, anyway," said Anne. She held out her hand. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Oliver. It's very good of you to have bothered."

  "Of course if you feel that way there's nothing more to be said," said Mrs. Oliver cheerfully. "I, at any rate, shall not let the grass grow under my feet. Good-by, my dear. Look me up in London if you change your mind."

  She climbed into the car and started it, waving a cheerful hand at the two girls.

  Rhoda suddenly made a dash after the slowly moving automobile.

  "What you said – about looking you up in London," she said breathlessly. "Did you only mean Anne, or did you mean me, too?"

  Mrs. Oliver applied the brake.

  "I meant both of you, of course."

  "Oh, thank you. Don't stop. I – perhaps I might come one day. There's something – No, don't stop. I can jump off."

  She did so and waving a hand ran back to the gate where Anne was standing.

  "What on earth -?" began Anne.

  "Isn't she a duck?" asked Rhoda enthusiastically. "I do like her. She had on odd stockings, did you notice? I'm sure she's frightfully clever. She must be, to write all those books. What fun if she found out the truth when the police and everyone were baffled."

  "Why did she come here?" asked Anne.

  Rhoda's eyes opened wide. "Darling, she told you -"

  Anne made an impatient gesture.

  "We must go in. I forgot. I've left him all alone."

  "Major Despard? Anne, he's frightfully good-looking, isn't he?"

  "I suppose he is."

  They walked up the path together.

  Major Despard was standing by the mantelpiece, teacup in hand. He cut short Anne's apologies for leaving him.

  "Miss Meredith, I want to explain why I've butted in like this."

  "Oh – but -"

  "I said that I happened to be passing. That wasn't strictly true. I came here on purpose."

  "How did you know my address?" asked Anne slowly.

  "I got it from Superintendent Battle."

  He saw her shrink slightly at the name. He went on quickly. " Battle 's on his way here now. I happened to see him at Paddington. I got my car out and came down here. I knew I could beat the train easily."

  "But why?"

  Despard hesitated just for a minute. "I may have been presumptuous, but I had the impression that you were, perhaps, what is called 'alone in the world.'"

  "She's got me," said Rhoda.

  Despard shot a quick glance at her, rather liking the gallant boyish figure that leaned against the mantelpiece and was following his words so intensely. They were an attractive pair, these two.

  "I'm sure she couldn't have a more devoted friend than you, Miss Dawes," he said courteously, "but it occurred to me that in the peculiar circumstances the advice of someone with a good dash of worldly wisdom might not be amiss. Frankly, the situation is this. Miss Meredith is under suspicion of having committed murder. The same applies to me and to the two other people who were in the room last night. Such a situation is not agreeable – and it has its own peculiar difficulties and dangers, which someone as young and inexperienced as you are, Miss Meredith, might not recognize. In my opinion you ought to put yourself in the hands of a thoroughly good solicitor. Perhaps you have already done so?"

  Anne Meredith shook her head.

  "I never thought of it."

  "Exactly as I suspected. Have you got a good man – a London man for choice?"

  Again Anne shook her head.

  "I've hardly ever needed a solicitor."

  "There's Mr. Bury," said Rhoda. "But he's about a hundred and two and quite gaga,"

  "If you'll allow me to advise you, Miss Meredith, I recommend your going to Mr. Myherne, my own solicitor. Jacobs, Peel and Jacobs is the actual name of the firm. They're first-class people, and they know all the ropes."

  Anne had got paler. She sat down.

  "Is it really necessary?" she asked in a low voice.

  "I should say emphatically so. There are all sorts of legal pitfalls,"

  "Are these people very expensive?"

  "That doesn't matter a bit," said Rhoda. "That will be quite all right, Major Despard. I think everything you say is quite true. Anne ought to be protected."

  "Their charges will, I think, be quite reasonable," said Despard. He added seriously, "I really do think it's a wise course, Miss Meredith."

  "Very well," said Anne slowly. "I'll do it if you think so."

  "Good."

  Rhoda said warmly, "I think it's awfully nice of you, Major Despard. Really frightfully nice."

  Anne said, "Thank you."

  She hesitated and then said, "Did you say Superintendent Battle was coming here?"

  "Yes. You mustn't be alarmed by that. It's inevitable."

  "Oh, I know. As a matter of fact I've been expecting him."

  Rhoda said impulsively, "Poor darling – it's nearly killing her, this business. It's such a shame so frightfully unfair."

  Despard said, "I agree – it's a pretty beastly business, dragging a young girl into an affair of this kind. If anyone wanted to stick a knife into Shaitana, they ought to have chosen some other place or time."

  Rhoda asked squarely, "Who do you think did it – Doctor Roberts or that Mrs. Lorrimer?"

  A very faint smile stirred Despard's mustache.

  "May have done it myself for all you know."

  "Oh, no," cried Rhoda. "Anne and I know you didn't do it."

  He looked at them both with kindly eyes.

  A nice pair of kids. Touchingly full of faith and trust. A timid little creature, the Meredith girl. Never mind, Myherne would see her through.
The other was a fighter. He doubted if she would have crumpled up in the same way if she'd been in her friend's place. Nice girls – he'd like to know more about them.

  These thoughts passed through his mind. Aloud he said, "Never take anything for granted, Miss Dawes. I don't set as much value on human life as most people do. All this hysterical fuss about road deaths, for instance. Man is always in danger – from traffic, from germs, from a hundred and one things. As well be killed one way as another. The moment you begin being careful of yourself, adopting as your motto 'Safety first,' you might as well be dead, in my opinion."

  "Oh, I do agree with you," cried Rhoda. "I think one ought to live frightfully dangerously – if one gets the chance, that is. But life, on the whole, is terribly tame."

  "It has its moments."

  "Yes, for you. You go to out-of-the-way places and get mauled by tigers and shoot things and jiggers bury themselves in your toes and insects eating you and everything's terribly uncomfortable but frightfully thrilling."

  "Well, Miss Meredith has had her thrill, too. I don't suppose it often happens that you've actually been in the room while a murder was committed -"

  "Oh, don't," cried Anne.

  He said quickly, "I'm sorry."

  But Rhoda said with a sigh, "Of course it was awful, but it was exciting, too! I don't think Anne appreciates that side of it. You know, I think that Mrs. Oliver is thrilled to the core to have been there that night."

  "Mrs. – Oh, your fat friend who writes the books about the unpronounceable Finn. Is she trying her hand at detection in real life?"

  "She wants to."

  "Well, let's wish her luck. It would be amusing if she put one over on Battle and Company."

  "What is Superintendent Battle like?" asked Rhoda curiously.

  Major Despard said gravely, "He's an extraordinarily astute man. A man of remarkable ability."

  "Oh!" said Rhoda. "Anne said he looked rather stupid."

  "That, I should imagine, is part of Battle 's stock in trade. But we mustn't make any mistake. Battle 's no fool."

  He rose. "Well, I must be off. There's just one other thing I'd like to say."

  Anne had risen also.