Death at Breakfast. John Rhode

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СКАЧАТЬ a man who was coming up the steps. He said, “Excuse me, are you Miss Harleston? I’m a friend of your brother’s.” I told him that my brother had been suddenly taken ill, and that I was just going for the doctor. He replied that he would stay with him while I was gone. I ran on towards Doctor Oldland’s, and I was so upset about Victor that I never gave the man another thought.’

      ‘But you and Doctor Oldland found him when you came back, I suppose?’

      ‘No, that’s the funny thing about it. We didn’t, there was nobody here.’

      ‘Are you sure that this man actually entered the house?’

      She hesitated. ‘I’m almost sure. You see, I was in a desperate hurry, and only stopped on the steps for a moment when he spoke to me. I feel pretty certain that he walked through the front door as I ran away, but I didn’t look back to see what had become of him. I’m sure I didn’t shut the door, and Doctor Oldland and I found it ajar when we got back here.’

      ‘I gather that this man was a stranger to you, Miss Harleston?’

      ‘I had never seen him before. He said he was a friend of my brother’s, which would have surprised me if I had had time to think, for I didn’t know that Victor had any friends. Oh! I’ve just thought! Perhaps he meant that he was a friend of Philip’s.’

      ‘Philip?’ Hanslet repeated inquiringly.

      ‘Yes, my real brother. He was here to supper last night, and perhaps this man thought that he had stayed for the night.’

      ‘Can you give any description of this man?’

      ‘I’m afraid I can’t. I shouldn’t know him again if I saw him. You understand how it was. I was thinking only of getting the doctor as soon as I could, and I didn’t take any notice of him.’

      ‘How long were you away from the house?’

      ‘Oh, not long. Not more than ten minutes, I should think. Doctor Oldland was very good, and came back with me at once.’

      Hanslet nodded absently. He was rather puzzled as to his next move. He wanted this girl out of the house, and yet it was imperative that she should be kept under close observation. ‘Have you any friends in London?’ he asked.

      ‘No, I hardly know anybody. Victor didn’t like people coming to the house.’

      ‘I don’t like the idea of you staying here alone, after the shock you’ve had. You mentioned your brother Philip. Where does he live?’

      ‘At Lassingford, near Maidstone. He manages a fruit farm there. I could go to him. He asked me, yesterday evening, if I couldn’t go and stay with him for a few days. That’s what all the row was about.’

      So there had been a row. Hanslet had already suspected as much. And then he had a bright idea. ‘Look here, Miss Harleston!’ he said. ‘I’m going to put you under the care of a friend of mine. He’ll send a message for you to your brother, and do anything else you want him to. Now, run upstairs and put on your hat, and we’ll go out and get a taxi.’

      He watched her go upstairs and into a bedroom, the door of which she shut behind her. It might have been her brother’s room, but he had to take that risk. However, she appeared again a few minutes later, dressed to go out and carrying her bag. Hanslet met her at the foot of the stairs. ‘Perhaps you had better give me your keys,’ he suggested.

      Without protest she handed over a bunch, which Hanslet put in his pocket. ‘Now, I’ll just write a note to this friend of mine,’ he said. ‘Then we’ll be ready to start.’

      He took out his notebook, and scribbled a few lines on a blank leaf. ‘Dear Jimmy. This is Miss Janet Harleston. Keep your eye on her till further orders. Let her send any messages she likes, but secure a copy of them. She is not, at present, to be detained.’

      They went out of the house together, and walked as far as the Fulham Road. Here Carling was still on duty. Hanslet beckoned to him, and drew him aside. ‘Get a taxi, and take this lady to the Yard,’ he said. ‘She’s not under arrest, so treat her as politely as you can. When you get there, ask for Inspector Waghom and give him this note.’

      Carling saluted. A purring taxi was stopped, and he helped Janet into it, clambering in beside her. Hanslet watched them drive off. He went to a nearby telephone box, and put through two calls, one to the divisional police surgeon, the other to the police ambulance station. Then he returned to number eight, Matfield Street, where he went into the sitting-room and sat down in the most comfortable chair. He was in no hurry. Plenty of time to get things straight in his mind before he started looking about.

      The case was a very simple one. The dead man and his sister had been the sole occupants of the house. That cleared a bit of complications out of the way, at the very start. There was no uncertainty as to the cause of death. Oldland had said that it had been due to acute poisoning. Oldland was a cautious chap. He would not have committed himself so definitely, if he had not been certain.

      In such a case, there were three possibilities to be considered. In the first place, accident. For instance, Harleston might have put poison in his early tea, in mistake for his usual daily dose of Kruschen. In the second place, suicide. He might deliberately have poisoned himself, though this, on the face of it, seemed unlikely. And in the third and last place, murder. The poison might have been administered by somebody with intent to kill.

      If the evidence pointed to murder, there was only one person upon whom suspicion could fall. His half-sister. Nobody else had had access to him, by her own admission. The visionary figure standing on the doorstep, even had he really existed, could have had no connection with the crime, since Harleston had obviously taken the poison before he appeared on the scene.

      Hanslet had not been very favourably impressed by Janet Harleston. She had told her story readily enough. Almost too readily, perhaps. But she had displayed very little sign of grief at her brother’s death. She had almost given Hanslet the impression that the event was a relief to her. She showed a lack of half-sisterly feeling, to say the least of it. And, by her own confession, she had quarrelled with her brother, as recently as the previous day.

      The superintendent rose from his chair, passed into the hall, and went upstairs. He opened the door of the room into which he had seen Janet go. Her bedroom, quite obviously, from the articles which it contained. This room had a window looking out over Matfield Street. Next to it was a smaller room, used as a box-room. On the other side of the landing were two doors, one leading into a bathroom and lavatory, the other into a second bedroom. Both these rooms had windows looking out at the back of the house, over the tiny plot of untended garden.

      This second bedroom was certainly the one occupied by Victor Harleston. The bed was unmade, and his striped pyjamas had been carelessly thrown upon it. Hanslet’s eye was immediately caught by the tray which stood on the table beside the bed. This was obviously the tray upon which Janet Harleston had brought her brother’s early tea. Hanslet examined the objects which stood upon it. A tea-pot, about one-third full of tea, now cold. A cup and saucer, the former containing dregs. A sugar-basin, with a few lumps of sugar in it, and a milk-jug, about half-full.

      Hanslet examined the room with considerable care. But he could find nothing unusual about it, nothing for instance, which might suggest poison. There was no bottle or other receptacle which seemed in any way suspicious. He passed into the bathroom. This was in a state of considerable disorder, but again it appeared to contain nothing suspicious. He went downstairs again. The ground floor of the house he had already СКАЧАТЬ