The Layton Court Mystery Read online

  Roger whistled softly.

  ‘Hullo, hullo, hul-lo!’ he said softly. ‘What’s this?’

  ‘It’s the car,’ replied the ever literal Alec.

  ‘I said you’d make a great detective one day, if you ever took it up seriously, Alec. No, you goop! What’s the car doing here? Who’s it waiting for?’

  ‘Better ask the chauffeur, I should think,’ said Alec, quite unruffled.

  ‘I will.’

  Alec slapped his pockets.

  ‘Dash it all! I’ve left my pipe somewhere. In the library, I think. I’ll run back for it while you’re speaking to the chauffeur; that’ll give you a chance to dawdle. Won’t be a minute.’

  He jog-trotted round the angle of the house, and Roger sauntered towards the chauffeur.

  When Alec reappeared, pipe in mouth, two or three minutes later, Roger was waiting for him near the car. There was a look of mingled apprehension and triumph on his face.

  ‘Ah, here you are!’ he exclaimed in a loud voice. ‘Well, we’d better be off if we want anything like a decent long walk before tea.’

  Alec opened his mouth to speak, but caught a warning look and was silent. Roger took his arm and drew him at a rapid pace down the drive. It was not till they had turned a corner and the house was securely hidden from view that he spoke again.

  ‘In here,’ he observed briskly, and plunged into the thick bushes which bordered the drive on either side.

  In some bewilderment Alec followed. ‘What’s the idea?’ he asked, as he rejoined his companion.

  ‘A little game of hide-and-seek. You heard what I fog-horned to you just now? That was for the benefit of the chauffeur; so that just in case anybody were to ask him what Messrs Grierson and Sheringham are up to this afternoon, he has his answer pat. Now I want to see just how long it is after the disappearance of the two said gentlemen that that car leaves its anchorage. You see, the chauffeur told me that he is waiting to take Jefferson into Elchester, Alec.’

  ‘I expect that’s right,’ Alec replied intelligently. ‘Jefferson said he’d got to go in, you remember.’

  ‘He’s been waiting nearly half an hour, Alec.’

  ‘Has he? Yes, probably he has. It must be getting on for that since Jefferson came into the library.’

  ‘Therefore Jefferson intended to go into Elchester half an hour ago, Alec. And he didn’t go, Alec. And he’s been in the house all that time instead, Alec. And somebody whom we couldn’t see came into the library and went away very quietly indeed, Alec. And can you put two and two together, Alec?’

  ‘Do you mean that – that it was Jefferson who came into the library that time?’

  ‘Amazing!’ observed Roger admiringly. ‘I can’t think how the man does it. It must be something to do with wireless. Yes, Alec; you’re quite right. I most certainly do think it was Jefferson who came into the library that time. But don’t you see the other significance? Why didn’t he go into Elchester half an hour ago? He was surely quite ready when he came and told us. Was it because I somehow roused his suspicions, asking him about priest-holes and things, and he stayed behind to spy on us and find out what we were up to?’

  ‘The Lord knows!’ said Alec helplessly.

  ‘Well, it looks like it, doesn’t it? It looks as if Jefferson is getting suspicious. Uncommonly suspicious. I don’t like it. Things are going to get awkward if they get wind of our little game. We shan’t be able to investigate in peace any longer.’

  ‘Dashed awkward,’ Alec agreed feelingly.

  ‘Hush!’ Roger crouched down hastily behind a bush, and Alec followed suit. As they did so, there came the noise of an approaching car, and the big blue Sunbeam swept past them and down the drive.

  Roger glanced at his watch.

  ‘Humph! Started four minutes after we did. It all fits in, doesn’t it? But there’s one thing that really is worrying me badly.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  They scrambled through the undergrowth and headed for the house once more. Roger turned impressively to Alec.

  ‘Did he or did he not hear what we were saying outside that window? And if he did, how much?’

  chapter fourteen

  Dirty Work at the Ash Pit

  The ash pit proved easy to locate. It lay among some outhouses and was surrounded on three sides by mellow old red-brick walls, the space within which was filled with a depressed-looking mass of rotting vegetable matter, old paper, and tins. The smell that hung heavily about it was not a nice one.

  ‘Have we got to search that?’ Alec asked, eyeing the view with considerable disfavour.

  ‘We have,’ Roger returned, and plunged happily into the smell. ‘Can’t expect to get through a job like ours without a certain amount of dirty work, you know.’

  ‘Personally, I prefer my dirty work at the crossroads,’ Alec murmured, following his intrepid leader with the greatest reluctance. ‘They’re cleaner. Dirty work at the ash pit doesn’t seem to appeal to me in the least.’ He began gingerly to handle the cleanest pieces of paper he could see, which happened to be old newspapers.

  Roger was rooting contentedly among a heap of scraps and shreds in the middle. ‘These on the top seem to be yesterday’s collection all right,’ he announced. ‘Yes, here’s the envelope from a letter of mine that came by the first post. Hum! Nothing in this lot, as far as I can see.’

  ‘What exactly are we looking for?’ Alec asked after a short pause, glancing with some interest at the county cricket page of a newspaper three weeks old.

  ‘What am I looking for, you mean? Come on, you lazy blighter. This is the waste-paper basket heap, over here. You won’t find anything among those tins and newspapers. I don’t know what I’m looking for.’

  ‘There won’t be anything here,’ Alec urged earnestly. ‘Let’s chuck it, and go off to make those inquiries.’

  ‘I’m afraid you’re right,’ said Roger reluctantly. ‘I’ve gone back about a week here, and haven’t struck anything of the faintest interest. Below this everything pretty well rotted away, too. Still, I’ll just – Hullo! What’s this?’

  ‘What?’

  Roger had straightened up abruptly and was scrutinising with bent brows a grimy piece of paper he held in his hand. The next moment he whistled softly.

  ‘Here is something, though!’ he exclaimed, and scrambled to dry land. ‘Here, what do you make of this?’

  He handed the paper to Alec, who studied it carefully. It was very wet and limp, but a few traces of writing in pencil could still be made out on its surface, while here and there an isolated word or phrase stood out fairly legibly.

  ‘It looks like a letter,’ Alec said slowly. ‘Hullo, did you see this? “Frightened almost out of my…” Out of my life, that must be.’

  Roger nodded portentously. ‘That’s exactly what caught my eye. The writing’s Stanworth’s; I can recognise that. But I shouldn’t say it was a letter. He wouldn’t write a letter in pencil. It’s probably some notes; or it may be the rough draft of a letter. Yes, that’s more likely. Look, you can make that bit out – see? “Serious dang – “ Serious danger, my boy!

  Alec, we’re on the track of something here.’ He took the paper from the other’s hands and studied it afresh.

  ‘Can’t see who it’s addressed to, can you?’ Alec asked excitedly.

  ‘No, worse luck; the first line or two has absolutely gone. Wait a minute, there’s something here. “This n-e-i-” and the last two letters look like o-d. A long word. What’s that?’ He pointed with a quivering finger.

  ‘N-e-i-g, isn’t it?’ said Alec. ‘And that’s an r. Neighbourhood!’

  ‘By Jove, so it is! “This neighbourhood.” And here’s something else. “That b-r-u-t…” “That brute – “ ‘

  ‘Prince!’

  ‘Prince?’

  ‘The next word. See? You can make it out quite distinctly.’

  ‘So it is! Good for you, Alec. “That brute Prince.” Good Lord, do you realise what this means?’ R
oger’s excitement was showing signs of becoming uncontrollable; his eyes were sparkling and he was breathing as if he had just run a hundred yards in eleven seconds.

  ‘It’s jolly important,’ Alec concurred, beaming. ‘I mean, it shows that – ’

  ‘Important!’ Roger almost howled. ‘Don’t you see, man? It means that we know the murderer’s name!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s put the game right in our hands. Stanworth was murdered by a man called Prince, whom he knew to be in the neighbourhood and – But let’s go somewhere rather more secluded and study this document some more.’

  The nearest outhouse offering a safe refuge, they withdrew hastily and scrutinised their find more closely. After ten minutes’ concentrated effort they found themselves in possession of the following:

  ‘… that brute Prince…this neighbourhood…serious danger…fright of my life this morning on chancing to…be locked up…’

  ‘I think that’s absolutely all that’s decipherable, without a magnifying glass, at any rate,’ Roger said at length, folding up the precious paper and stowing it carefully away in his pocketbook. ‘But it’s plain enough, isn’t it? So forward!’ He marched out of the shed and turned in the direction of the drive.

  ‘Where to now?’ asked the faithful Alec, hurrying after him.

  ‘To find Master Prince,’ Roger returned grimly.

  ‘Ah! You think he’s still about here?’

  ‘I think it’s quite probable. He’s been in communication with Jefferson this morning, hasn’t he? At any rate, we can soon find out.’

  ‘What exactly have you deduced then?’

  ‘Well, there’s precious little deduction needed; the thing speaks for itself. Stanworth, for some reason still unknown to us, had cause to fear a man named Prince. To his surprise and terror he chanced to encounter him unexpectedly one morning about a week ago in this neighbourhood, and knew at once that he was in serious danger. He comes home at once, makes a rough draft of a letter, and then writes off to some other person telling him all about it and asking, probably, for help; at the same time expressing his conviction that Prince ought to be locked up.’

  ‘It’s curious,’ Alec mused.

  ‘Fishy, you mean? Yes, but we’ve had a suspicion for some time that there was something fishy going on behind the scenes in all this, haven’t we? Not only with regard to the behaviour of the other people in the house, but even possibly in connection with old Stanworth himself. But we’re hot on the trail this time, I think.’

  ‘What’s your plan of campaign?’ Alec asked, as they turned into the drive.

  ‘Well, we must make a few discreet inquiries. In fact, our course will be much the same as we contemplated before, except that our field of action has luckily been narrowed down very considerably. Instead of chasing about after some nebulous stranger, we’ve now got a definite goal. We had a pretty good idea of what he looks like before, but now we even know the blighter’s name. Oh, this is going to be too easy.’

  ‘How do you mean – we had a pretty good idea of what he looks like?’

  ‘Well, haven’t we? We know he must be strong, because of what happened in the library; Stanworth was no weakling, remember. Then the size of his footprints shows that he was a large man, probably tall. I can’t tell you the colour of his hair or how many false teeth he’s got; but we’ve got a good working idea of his appearance for all that.’

  ‘But what are you going to do, if you do succeed in finding him? You can’t go up to him and say, “Good afternoon, Mr Prince. I believe you murdered Mr Stanworth at two o’clock this morning.” It – it isn’t done.’

  ‘You leave all that to me,’ Roger returned largely. ‘I’ll think of something to say to him all right.’

  ‘I’m sure you will,’ Alec murmured with conviction.

  ‘In the meantime, here’s the lodge. What about seeing if William’s in? He lives here, doesn’t he? Or Mrs William. They might have opened the gates to this man Prince last night.’

  ‘Right-ho. But be discreet.’

  ‘Really, Alec!’ said Roger with dignity, as he tapped on the lodge door.

  William’s wife was a round-faced, apple-cheeked old lady with a pair of twinkling- blue eyes that looked as if they saw something humorous in most of the things upon which they rested; as no doubt they did, considering that they belonged to the wife of William.

  ‘Good afternoon, gentlemen,’ she said, with a little old-fashioned bob. ‘Would it be me you were wanting?’

  ‘Good afternoon,’ Roger replied with a smile. ‘We were wondering if William happened to be at home.’

  ‘Me ‘usband? Lor’, no, sir; he’s never at home at this time. He’s got his work to do.’

  ‘Oh, I suppose he’s about the garden somewhere, is he?’

  ‘Yes, sir. Cuttin’ pea-sticks in the orchard, I think he is. Was it anything important?’

  ‘Oh, no; nothing important. I’ll call around and see him later on.’

  ‘Shocking business this, sir; about the master,’ Mrs William began volubly. ‘Shocking! Such a thing’s never been known at Layton Court before, not in my time it ‘asn’t; nor ever before that, so far as I’ve ‘eard tell. An’ did you see the corpse, sir? Shot hisself in the ‘ead, didn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, shocking,’ said Roger hastily. ‘Shocking! By the way, I was expecting a friend last night rather late, but he never turned up. You didn’t see anything of him here I suppose, did you?’

  ‘About what time would that be, sir?’

  ‘Oh, somewhere about eleven o’clock, I should think; or even later.’

  ‘No, sir; that I didn’t. William an’ me was both on us in bed and asleep before half-past ten.’

  ‘I see. And you close the gates when you lock up for the night, don’t you?’

  ‘That we do, sir. Unless there’s orders come down to the contrary. They was shut near after ten o’clock last night, an’ not opened till Halbert (that’s the showfure) came down early this mornin’. Was your friend coming by motor car, sir?’

  ‘I don’t know. It depended. Why?’

  ‘Because there’s always the little gate at the side left open, which people on foot can come in by. All I can tell you, sir, is that nobody came to my knowledge, which he naturally wouldn’t ‘ave done if he never came up to the house, would he? Not without he got lost in the drive, which isn’t very likely in a manner of speaking.’

  ‘No, I’m afraid he can’t have come at all. In any case, you say that, up to the time you went to bed, no stranger at all came in? Absolutely nobody?’

  ‘No, sir. Nobody to my knowledge.’

  ‘Oh, well; that quite settles it. By the way, only yesterday afternoon poor Mr Stanworth was asking me to do him a favour the next time I went for a walk. It was to call in and see someone called Prince for him, and – ’

  ‘Prince?’ Mrs William interrupted with unexpected energy. ‘Don’t you go going anywhere near him, sir.’

  ‘Why not?’ Roger asked eagerly, flashing a look of triumph at Alec.

  Mrs William hesitated. ‘You do mean Prince, sir? John?’

  ‘Yes, John; that’s right. Why mustn’t I go anywhere near him?’

  ‘Because he’s dangerous, sir,’ said Mrs William vehemently. ‘Downright dangerous! In fact’ – she lowered her voice significantly – ‘it’s my opinion that he’s a little mad.’

  ‘Mad?’ Roger echoed in surprise. ‘Oh, come; I don’t think that can be the case, can it?’

  ‘Well, look how he went for Mr Stanworth that time, sir. You know about that, of course?’

  Roger hurriedly checked a whistle. ‘I’ve heard something about it,’ he said glibly. ‘Er – attacked him, didn’t he?’

  ‘That he did, sir. And all for no reason at all. In fact, if one of Mr Wetherby’s farm hands hadn’t luckily been by, he might ‘ave done Mr Stanworth a power of harm. Of course they did their best to hush it up; it gives the place a bad name if them things get about. But I
heard on it all right.’

  ‘Indeed? I had no idea it was as bad as that. There was – how shall I put it? – bad blood between them?’

  ‘Well, you might call it that, sir. He seemed to take a dislike to Mr Stanworth the very first time ‘e saw him, like.’

  ‘Rather a drastic way of showing it,’ Roger laughed. ‘Perhaps he has got a screw loose, as you say. He hasn’t been here long then?’

  ‘Oh, no. Not more’n a matter of three weeks or so, sir.’

  ‘Well, I think I shall risk it. What I wanted to ask you was the quickest way of getting there.’

  ‘To Mr Wetherby’s? Why, you can’t go quicker than follow the road through the village, sir; that takes you straight there. It’s about a mile an’ a half from here, or maybe a trifle more.’

  ‘Mr Wetherby’s; yes. Let me see, that’s – ?’

  ‘Hillcrest Farm, sir. A very nice gentleman he is, too. Him an’ Mr Stanworth was getting quite friendly before – before – ’

  ‘Yes,’ said Roger hurriedly. ‘Well, thank you very much. I’m so sorry to have kept you all this time.’

  ‘You’re welcome, sir, I’m sure,’ rejoined Mrs William smilingly. ‘Good afternoon, sir.’

  ‘Good afternoon.’

  Mrs William popped back into her lodge again, and the two struck into the main road.

  Roger’s pent-up emotions burst forth as soon as they were out of earshot. ‘There!’ he exclaimed. ‘What do you think of that, eh?’

  ‘Extraordinary!’ Alec ejaculated, hardly less excited.

  ‘But what a bit of luck just to hit on possibly the one person who would have been willing to give us all the information. Luck? It’s positively uncanny. Well, I never guessed that detecting was as easy as this.’

  ‘We’re going straight after this man Prince, then?’

  ‘You bet we are. We want to catch our bird before he flies.’

  ‘You think he intends flying?’

  ‘Most probably, I should say,’ Roger replied, striding along the dusty road at top speed. ‘He’s only been in the place three weeks, you see, so he evidently came with the full intention of doing what he has done; now the job’s accomplished there’s no need for him to stay any longer. Oh, he’s a clever one, is Master Prince. But not quite clever enough.’