Chapter 9
Bertie Follows Up
The following morning, before breakfast, saw Bertie knocking at the door of Ginger's room, ostensibly to bring him up to date on what he had learned so far and to see if Ginger had remembered anything from before his fall the previous evening. He was relieved to find Ginger recovered and back to normal although a little pale. His memory, however, was still hazy. Bertie interrupted him doing his best to conceal the bruise on his temple by brushing his fringe over it.
"Don't say anything about what happened to me when we go to breakfast," warned Ginger when Bertie had told him about his conversation with the Colonel. "Let's just keep our eyes and ears open for any unusual reactions."
Bertie nodded. "Let them give themselves away, you mean," he remarked. "I must say," he continued, "this is turning out to have more twists than Hampton Court maze. Just about everybody here except you and me has a reason for doing the blighter in." Bertie smiled, "and the Colonel is convinced that you had a motive over the dog," he added.
"It's hardly sufficient cause to kill somebody," observed Ginger, "but perhaps it's just as well with Constable Pearson in charge that you and I both have an alibi for when the shot was fired." He grinned. "That would upset the Air Commodore, wouldn't it, if we were both arrested for murder!"
"Don't even think it, old boy," protested Bertie. "Not even in jest. Whatever would Biggles say?"
"He'd probably say he always knew I couldn't be trusted not to get into trouble out of his sight," grinned Ginger as they left his room to go down to breakfast.
They ate a leisurely meal, joined by the other guests at irregular intervals, but nothing incriminating was said and no one remarked on Ginger's pallor.
After breakfast they interviewed the Colonel, Julian and Peter, and Lady Maria and her husband, but all had alibis for the time of the shooting. Bertie cautiously put a few questions to his aunt and was relieved to find that she, too, could be eliminated from their enquiries.
Ginger, disappointed by their lack of progress, decided he wanted some fresh air and persuaded Bertie to accompany him for a stroll in the pleasure grounds. The day was fine enough not to need a coat so they went straight out without returning to their rooms.
On the way back, they paused for a moment to look at the house before crossing the croquet lawn to regain the terrace. Everything was so peaceful they both found it hard to believe that murder had been done just a short time before. Ginger pointed out that Cliffe's room was in the wing facing them.
"It's funny we heard the shot so clearly," he remarked. "My room is around the corner on the other side of the house. You would have thought it would have been muffled by the building."
"Now you come to mention it, old boy," said Bertie, "I noticed his window was closed, too. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but that would have helped deaden the sound, too, wouldn't it?"
"Are you sure, Bertie?" queried Ginger.
"Absolutely," confirmed Bertie. "If you look, you'll see it still is."
They both looked at the window of Cliffe's room. The casement was firmly shut.
"That's very odd," mused Ginger. He looked at Bertie curiously. "Do you think that maybe the shot we heard wasn't the shot that killed Cliffe?" he ventured hesitantly.
"How so, old boy?" questioned Bertie with a puzzled frown.
"Well, if the window's closed and we're on the other side of the building, would we have heard the shot so clearly? I don't think so. But, if someone wanted us to think Cliffe had been killed just before dinner - when in fact he was already dead - and fired a shot where we could hear it ... does that make sense?"
Bertie nodded slowly. "I see what you mean, old boy. A red herring."
"Maybe we've been looking at alibis for the wrong time."
"How could we prove it, though?" asked Bertie. "I mean we'd need to find some evidence."
"Let's have a look round our side of the house," suggested Ginger. "After all, if someone fired a shot, unless it was a blank round, the bullet must have gone somewhere."
Together they crossed the lawn and made their way round to the south front of the house. Apparently wandering along idly, they scanned the flower beds and terrace for any evidence of a shot being fired, but without any success.
Ginger smiled ruefully. "So much for my bright idea," he admitted as they reached the end of the terrace below his window. "We seem to have drawn a blank."
"I don't know so much, old boy," said Bertie, staring up at the wall. "Look at that wisteria. It seems to have lost a branch."
Ginger followed the direction of his gaze. The gnarled trunk of the ancient wisteria showed a white scar about fifteen feet above ground. Still attached to the wall, the severed branch was beginning to wither. There was no way of examining it easily. The nearest window was a good ten feet away.
As if reading his mind Bertie said, "there's only one way to check," and stepped into the flower bed. Before Ginger could protest, he had grasped the trunk and begun to climb.
"For goodness sake, be careful!" cried Ginger in a panic. The wisteria hardly looked capable of bearing a man's weight and he was afraid Bertie would come crashing to earth in a tangle of leaves and broken stems.
Obviously the plant was stronger than it looked as Bertie reached the damaged area without mishap. Ginger saw him examine the wall closely then fumble in his pocket for something. Bertie appeared to be scraping at the stonework then moments later he was on his way back down. Ginger breathed a sigh of relief as Bertie stepped onto terra firma again.
"Well?" he asked impatiently as Bertie joined him.
For reply Bertie opened his hand. On the palm lay a flattened bullet. "I just dug this out of the wall," he informed Ginger. "I think we can safely say that this was the shot we heard fired just before dinner," he concluded. "I wonder what's the earliest time of death the police doctor would suggest without the evidence we so conveniently gave them."
Ginger stared at the bullet. "And I wonder if it would match the one that killed Cliffe," he mused. "Or whether we have two firearms involved."
"I think a word with Dr Grange is in order," suggested Bertie. "And a look at the forensics report if that can be arranged."
Ginger nodded and together they went back to the house in search of some answers.
