Chapter 14

Algy Provides Some Answers

"But who's minding the shop, old boy?" Bertie asked the newcomer as Ginger grinned widely. Trust Algy not to want to be left out, he thought.

"There's no flap on at the moment and I've told the Air Commodore where I can be reached in case of emergency," replied Algy. "It won't take me long to get back. I can't let you out of my sight for a minute," he chided them, mock seriously. "Trust you lot to get up to mischief when my back's turned."

"You're starting to sound like Biggles," said Ginger smiling.

When their good-natured greetings had been exchanged, the trio retired to the morning room to look at what Algy had brought with him.

They spread the copies of birth and marriage certificates on the table and checked the details. There were also two death certificates among the collection.

"Why have you brought these?" queried Ginger, indicating the extra pieces of paper.

"I thought you might like to have a look," replied Algy. "Not only are Sarah and Naomi sisters, but their mother committed suicide and their father died of alcoholism." He took a newspaper clipping out of his wallet, unfolded it and laid it on the table.

"I thought you might also like to see why Sarah and Naomi's mother committed suicide," he declared, with the air of a conjurer drawing a rabbit from a hat.

"You have been busy!" remarked Ginger approvingly as they stared at the cutting.

'WOMAN THROWS HERSELF IN FRONT OF TRAIN' screamed the banner headline.

"What a dreadful thing to do!" exclaimed Ginger in horror.

"Yes," agreed Algy, "but read on."

In silence they read the accompanying story. Mrs Goldman had left her husband and two children for another man. When he in turn had deserted her, she had taken the drastic step of ending her own life. The coroner's remarks at the ensuing inquest had been to the effect that this should be a salutary warning to all bored housewives.

"It doesn't name the man," observed Ginger. "But if it was Cliffe, it would give them both a motive."

"Absolutely, old boy," assented Bertie. "What a rotter the blighter must have been!"

"Levy-Strauss told me in the corridor he thought it was suicide – I wonder if he was thinking about this," mused Ginger. "Poetic justice, so to speak."

"But it wasn't suicide, was it, old boy?" interpolated Bertie. "I mean, no one's found the gun. It wasn't in the room. If he'd shot himself, he could hardly have made the weapon disappear, if you get my meaning."

"It all boils down to what I said before," stated Ginger emphatically. "The gun is the key to everything!"

"I think you're probably right, old boy," concurred Bertie. "But where is it, that's the question?"

At that moment a tap on the door preceded Beech's entrance. "Her Ladyship would like to know if Mr Lacey intends to stay," he enquired discreetly. "The Green Room is available if you would like to stay the night, sir," he informed Algy courteously.

Algy hesitated, torn between duty and curiosity. "Thank her ladyship for me, Beech," he replied eventually, a tinge of regret in his voice, "but I shall have to be getting back to London. I will call in and see her before I leave."

"Very good, sir," murmured the butler and withdrew.

When the door had closed and they were alone again, Algy looked at his companions. "Before I have to go, I think we should have it out with the Levy-Strauss couple and Sarah. Let's confront them with this and see what they have to say."

"Isn't the usual procedure to assemble everybody in the drawing room and denounce the murderer with a flourish?" asked Ginger with a twinkle in his eye.

"You've been reading too many whodunits, my lad!" Algy admonished him sternly.

"That's what I told him!" exclaimed Bertie as Ginger chuckled.

"We'll dispense with the drawing room drama and see them in here," said Algy, looking at Ginger askance. "Ring for Beech and ask him to send them here."

Ginger, unabashed, did as he was bade. They spent the short time before the suspects arrived organising the presentation of what they had gathered so far. It was agreed that, as it was Bertie's cousin's house and he had been involved from the beginning, he should take charge of proceedings.

Naomi and Joseph Levy-Strauss were the first to arrive. When the introductions were over, Bertie invited them to be seated.

"I hope this will not take long, Lord Lissie," rumbled the financier. "They will soon be ringing the gong for dinner."

"That rather depends on you, old boy," Bertie told him. "We just have to wait for one more participant, so to speak. Then we can begin."

"You won't mind if I smoke?" The banker drew a Corona from a leather case and waved it airily. On receiving assent, he lit up and blew a cloud of scented smoke into the air. His wife wafted it away with her handkerchief.

Ginger, sitting to Naomi's right, was directly in the path of the cloud of cigar smoke mingled with Lily of the Valley perfume and suddenly in a flash he remembered what he had been struggling to bring to mind. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again without saying anything as a tap on the door preceded the arrival of Sarah.

When she saw the maid enter, Naomi Levy-Strauss sprang to her feet with a cry of anguish. Sarah went white and would have turned and run but for Algy closing the door firmly behind her. Seeing she was trapped she walked forward resignedly.

"Now we're all here," remarked Bertie brightly. "Of course, you all know each other," he remarked conversationally, "since you're related."

Naomi looked as though she was about to faint. Her husband tried to bluster, but Bertie held up the birth certificates.

Seeing that there was no point in denying their relationship, the banker tried to explain his reaction.

"I understand your embarrassment," Bertie told him. "But there is rather more to it than that, isn't there, old chap? I mean, it is correct that Cliffe was the blighter who ruined your wife and her sister's family, isn't it?"

Stunned, Levy-Strauss said nothing. Ginger broke the ensuing silence. "And it is true that your wife pushed me down the servants stairs outside Cliffe's room, isn't it?"

All eyes switched to him. "Just before I lost consciousness I was aware of a strong smell. I lost my memory for a while, but just now it came back; what I smelled was Lily of the Valley perfume and a hint of cigar smoke."

Naomi started to sob. "I didn't kill him," she wailed.

"But you did push me downstairs," persisted Ginger.

She nodded tearfully.

"Why?" he wanted to know.

"I panicked," she confessed between sobs. "I'd gone up there to see if I could get into the room, but that constable was there. I hid inside the door of the staircase to see if he would go off duty. The bulb had blown when I switched it on, so I knew I wouldn't be seen, but when you came in, I thought you would be sure to catch me and think I had killed that horrid man."

"You were in his room, though – before dinner," suggested Ginger. He brought the package they had found in the rose garden out of his pocket and placed it on the desk. "To get this?"

Her hands flew to her mouth which opened in a silent scream. Her husband put his arms around her protectively. "My wife was with me," he protested.

"I'm afraid we only have your word for that, old chap," broke in Bertie. He looked at Naomi compassionately. "Tell the truth, Mrs Levy-Strauss. Were you in Cliffe's room? The police will have taken fingerprints, don't forget."

"But I was wearing my gloves …" She stopped, horror-stricken at what she had admitted.

Bertie regarded her sadly. "You might as well tell us everything now, you know," he suggested gently.

She took a deep breath then nodded in resignation. "I didn't kill him," she whispered. "He was already dead. I just took what I had come for and left."

"It's going to be very hard to prove that, you know," Bertie pointed out.

For the first time Sarah spoke. "No, it isn't. She saw the murderer leave."