Inquest by Henrietta Clandon

Author:Henrietta Clandon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dean Street Press
Published: 2020-02-05T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER XV

ONE SPADE

The funeral was over. It was a most cheerful day, with the sun shining, and a blue sky, but I think I never felt so gloomy before. Hector was so young, and his taking-off so callous and casual. As I called at my house to change into less dismal garments, I determined that I would not rest until I had helped to arrest the brute who was responsible.

Oliver did not go. It seemed that he had an aversion to funerals as well as blood-sports. I had a talk with Tobey and Mattock in the afternoon, and mentioned it to them.

“I don’t know what you think of it, and I cannot supply a motive,” I observed to the detective, “but I told you before how shaken Oliver was when the body was found, and to-day he did not go to the funeral.”

Mattock folded his hands, and put his head on one side. “The murder, Dr Soame, was a particularly callous one. Then, if Sir Eugene Oliver was guilty, I should think he would have had more nous than he showed. For example, looking so distressed at the time, which gave him a guilty look; failing to attend a funeral, which would give people who were suspicious of him an idea that he might not wish to attend the last rites over a man he had killed. A murderer generally tries to cover up.”

“Right enough,” I conceded. “I merely wanted your views about him.”

Mattock went on. “Another thing—he was apparently cheerful and normal until you came in to say that you had found the body?”

“Oh, quite.”

“Good point,” said Tobey.

“The murderer would of course know that the body would eventually be found,” said Mattock, “he would surely be more apprehensive and nervous before it was found? He would hardly preserve his cheerfulness soon after the murder, and exhibit signs of guilt or emotion hours after?”

“In any case, we can get at him at any time,” said Tobey, who knew that I was merely trying to place all the information I had at the man’s disposal, not to play the omniscient detective. “Going to town, isn’t he?”

“He is due to play in a polo match on Saturday,” I said. “He is a member of the ‘Redpolls,’ and can be found at their ground most afternoons in the season, I have been told.”

The detective nodded. “Right. At the moment I am more interested in Mr Burton. His story about the merger does not fit in very well with what Sir Eugene told you. He had a row with Mr Hoe-Luss. I wondered too why he left so hastily for Lorraine.”

“I suppose that could be ascertained?” I remarked.

Mattock smiled faintly. “I had a cable sent to the chief of police at Metz, doctor, asking him to have secret inquiries made. We can’t get away from the fact that of all the guests, next to you, he had the best chance to slip into and out of Simcox’s room without being seen.”

“When he had his bath?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

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