Hell bay, p.18
Hell Bay, page 18
“I see. Did he come back immediately?”
“I don’t know. I believe I arrived first. But then I went to play billiards. He didn’t appear for an hour at best.”
“So it was possible that Mr. Kerry was outside and alone for half an hour or even in the north hall signaling to a compatriot.”
Burrell shrugged again. “It’s possible, I suppose, but unlikely. I didn’t feel he was being malicious or evil, just rude, if you know what I mean.”
“We’ll leave it at that,” Barker said, and began to fasten Percy’s collar buttons with his stubby fingers.
Percy’s eyes bulged for a moment. Barker is none too gentle, and he was probably choking him in his enthusiasm to help him get ready. He pulled him to his feet, then reached behind them and put the stopper on the bottle, as if daring him to try unstopping it now.
“I suppose I’ll toddle down to breakfast, then,” Percy Burrell said.
“We shall see you there in twenty minutes or so.”
Barker looked uncertain as to whether or not to take the decanter with him.
“You can leave it, Mr. Barker,” the heir said. “It was a moment of weakness, but it has passed.”
We left the room and went downstairs to our room.
“Let me play devil’s advocate,” I said.
“A role you were born to play.”
“Now, now, there is no need for that!”
“Continue,” Barker said.
“It was a stupid remark to make in front of a son who has just seen his father shot to death, but Kerry, aside from being an ass, is also a human being. A thought occurred to him and he spoke it without thinking. That doesn’t mean he had an ulterior motive.”
“What of the letter, then? Is it suspicious that he invited himself to this house party?”
There was a knock from the inner door. Barker stopped and unlocked it. A moment later, Mrs. Ashleigh entered from her room. She didn’t want to miss anything.
“Perhaps he genuinely wanted to make amends, if for no other reason than that Olivia will receive several hundred pounds annually at least. I know it is harsh to discuss it in such terms—”
“No,” Philippa broke in. “It is practical. Whom are you discussing, precisely?”
I looked to Barker, who nodded. I explained the conversation we had with the heir to the Godolphin estate, leaving out nothing but the term he had used to describe Algernon Kerry, apt as it was.
“If, as you say, Mr. Kerry insulted the family with his odious suggestion, which angered Mr. Burrell so much, perhaps it was to free himself from his company, in order to confer with whoever he intended to meet, presumably the killer.”
“It’s possible,” I conceded, “but unlikely. Kerry is an abrasive fellow, more at home in a frontier like Brazil than a dinner party at a country house. To think he has the skill to say just the right words to free himself of Burrell’s company is to give him too much credit, I think.”
“You forget what he did for a living. He controlled the slaves at Paititi Limited. That requires a certain amount of coercion. It’s possible what we are seeing is a performance on Mr. Kerry’s part.”
“A chilling thought.” I replied.
“Not chilling,” Philippa said. “Practical, in a diabolical way.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
As we arrived at the dining room, Kerry was nowhere to be found. Barker asked Mrs. Ashleigh if she would be willing to ask Lady Alicia to speak to us. Not only did she agree, but the lady herself had come down to breakfast. Apparently, breakfast was the quickest way to learn if anything important had happened overnight. Mrs. Ashleigh asked if Barker could have a few words with her.
I know a Thoroughbred when I see one. Lady Alicia was near unapproachable. If I tried to speak to a woman like that, I would either babble or become tongue-tied, so I don’t even try. Barker is far more egalitarian.
When Cyrus Barker invited Lady Alicia into the library, I rather thought he had his work cut out for him. I hadn’t heard her say more than two words since we had arrived. I don’t know whether she was naturally diffident or merely tight-lipped. Even Mrs. Ashleigh had trouble getting anything from her in the way of information. In her defense, she was reasonably attractive and if she survived the present ordeal might make some fellow a pretty if rather silent wife someday.
“Lady Alicia,” the Guv said. “We are sorry for your loss and regret having to intrude upon your privacy, but I am asking questions of everyone in the hope that they might shed some light upon anything which might help us get off this island. You probably believe you don’t, and in fact you may very well be right, but I would be remiss not to ask you questions. You were Paul Burrell’s intended, after all. Does that seem reasonable to you?”
She nodded and adjusted her seat on the edge of her chair. She had curling chestnut-colored hair and a carefully sculpted nose that turned up nicely at the end. It was her best feature.
“Very well. Did you know Paul Burrell long?”
“We met as children at gymkhanas and county fairs,” she answered in a high and cultured voice. “As I recall, he used to pull my hair. Our fathers knew each other, being the two closest landowners.”
“Were there any hopes among your family of an early betrothal?”
“No, Mr. Barker. My mother would have put a stop to that, I’m afraid. She hoped for me to marry better than a Hargrave.”
“Then may I ask why you haven’t? You are obviously an intelligent and cultured young woman. What has brought you to a level your mother would find disappointing?”
It was not a question I would have asked. I thought he might be told to mind his own business. In fact, any other aristocrat I’d met probably would have. But then, being a private enquiry agent allows one leeway to have as much or as little tact as is required for the work.
“The family’s resources have dwindled, I’m afraid. My father has debts. I had a few early offers of marriage, which I refused, but I’m running out of chances, or so my mother says. This was to be my last chance in England, you see. The next step is to try the Americans. One of the millionaire sons from Boston or Chicago might be interested in supporting a lady. It really makes me sound like a racehorse, does it not?”
I almost blushed for her. I hadn’t expected her to reveal family financial problems to a pair of complete strangers. Barker seemed to take it at face value.
“Were you invited by Lady Celia?”
“I believe it was Mrs. Ashleigh who suggested my name. I gather Lady Celia just wanted to see her son married and settled.”
“Were you amenable to that?”
“I have already been called a spinster publicly. It would be a relief to be married and settled. I had my heart set on it, I’m afraid. Sometimes I feel cursed.”
“I do not believe in curses,” Barker told her. “One makes one’s own luck. Keep trying, Lady Alicia. It’s a funny thing about husbands. It only takes one and you are done.”
She gave a wan smile.
“I’m sure you haven’t called me here to discuss my marriage woes. How may I help you?”
“Let me begin by asking if there is anything beyond the fact that people are being killed that you have found unusual here. Is anyone’s behavior puzzling to you or does it seem in any way suspicious?”
“Mr. Kerry puzzles me.”
“Does he? How so?”
“I’ve known him for ages. He was worse than Paul when he was young. A nasty little boy. I wasn’t at the dinner where he disgraced himself years ago, but I saw him no more than a week later at another event. He was drunk but not belligerent.
“‘I have disgraced myself, Alicia,’” he said to me. “‘Papa is sending me away. You probably won’t see me again, so I apologize for the mud pie I threw at your party dress on your sixth birthday.’”
“So what did you find curious?” Barker asked.
“I was surprised he came back a success. He just didn’t have the knack. He tended to say what he thought and he never thought highly of anyone. I used to say his mother must have put pepper in his bottle as a child. He was a bully with a bad temper. Making money, even in South America, requires certain skills which he clearly lacks. Seeing him here with a foreign servant and a medal, it all seems impossible. He hasn’t changed, you see. Still as rude as ever. So how did he succeed? Whom did he impress and how? I don’t understand.”
“There, you see? I had no idea you knew Mr. Kerry before this party. You have offered a fresh perspective. Does anything else puzzle you?”
“Let me think … I find it unusual that a doctor and his daughters were invited here. There are a few girls I know among the aristocracy that would have liked to have been asked. But then the Hargraves have always done as they liked. When one is off the mainland, one feels more pressure to conform to social standards. My mother would never wear last year’s fashions, for example, while Lady Celia dresses only to please her husband. If any menu or style of decorating or activity is in fashion here this week, I am certain it is due to Mrs. Ashleigh’s influence. That woman has breeding. In fact, if I know Celia, she wrote to her and asked her to take things over.”
Barker turned his face my way, as if to say, “You see? I told you a woman’s opinion would be helpful.” Not that I disagreed, but if he were such a champion for women’s opinions, why did he live in a bachelor household?
“What think you of Mrs. Fraser?”
“Smarter than she looks. Took every rubber at whist. She runs her husband around, and my papa says he is intelligent enough to be an MP.”
“The French ambassador?”
“He is a bottom pincher. Oh, not mine. I saw him pinch one of the maids.”
“Percy Burrell?”
“Younger brother. I saw him in a play once. A farce. I think he had more energy than talent. He always looked up to Paul. I don’t know what he’s going to do now.”
“Lord Hargrave?”
“We knew he was in the government. He tended to drift from one department to another until he joined this new one, the Something Institute. Haven’t the foggiest notion what they do, but I doubt the ambassador is here merely to pinch the maids.”
“Colonel Fraser?”
“A sweet old man. Not the pinching type. Rather doddering, of course, but he must be a centenarian by now.”
“Have you noticed any of the servants acting differently?”
“The dark one has been jumping about and trying to help everyone, but I suspect it was to avoid his master. I feel sorry for anyone who has to work under him. Algie is the type who pulled wings from flies, you know, and burned ants with a lens to pass the time.”
“Are those impressions from years ago, or have you seen more recent evidence that he is still difficult?”
“He isn’t drinking, which I suppose is a good thing. To tell the truth, I avoid him as much as possible. He doesn’t look particularly well. I heard he had contracted one of those jungle diseases.”
She seemed at an end, and clapped her jaw shut, as if she had said too much. I pondered whether she would be silent for days after such an outburst.
“Thank you, Lady Alicia. You have been most candid and helpful.”
“Mr. Barker, if getting us off this island rests in anyone’s hands, it is yours. Please track this fellow down and do whatever needs to be done. I want to go home.”
Barker bowed to her. “I shall do the best I can, Your Ladyship.”
She rose and gave him a look which in someone else might be considered haughty. She was an aristocrat, however, and no doubt felt that the Guv and I were no more than common peelers. I’m sure in her world that was precisely what we were.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Breakfast was sparsely attended. The thought that someone outside the house was intent upon killing us all one by one rather put a damper on social convention. Conversation was strained, and those that tried to put on a brave face were obvious even to themselves. The colonel was telling us a long story about his time in India which, frankly, I wasn’t paying strict attention to, being bracketed by the sisters Anstruther. Some of us will still obey the social conventions.
“Do you need butter, Miss Anstruther?” I asked Bella.
“Please,” she said.
I reached for the dish and I was actually passing it into her hand when the house was suddenly shaken by an explosion. It was not especially loud, but it was profound. It made the cutlery on the table jump and the water in the glasses slosh. Every woman at the table shrieked at once. Barker turned in his chair and looked at me, his hand gripping Philippa’s, as if to protect her.
“What devilry has that menace come up with to confound us today?” the colonel asked wearily.
Barker stood and released Philippa with a reassuring pat.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” I said to my breakfast companions as I stood. It was the sort of reassuring nonsense one says at such a time. In no conceivable way was I sure that it was nothing.
Four of us—Colonel Fraser, Percy Burrell, Barker, and I—exited out the front door. Smoke rose from the back of the house. We hurried around the side, walking into a wall of dense dust and debris, and passed the bunkhouse where the young men had been recuperating. They were all standing about, covered in dirt and soot. There was something missing and it took me a moment to work it out. The outdoor privy was now little more than a gaping hole in the ground.
“Could it have ignited accidentally?” I asked. “I have heard of that happening before.”
“No, Thomas,” Barker said. “More likely, it was deliberately blown up. I suggest you retrieve your list of guests and servants and begin taking roll.”
“You believe it was occupied?” I asked.
“I do. Blowing up an empty privy would be only a minor inconvenience and not worth the effort.”
“But where do you suppose he got the dynamite?”
“He probably made it from scratch, using base materials.”
I recall the characters in Jules Verne’s Mysterious Island digging saltpeter and sulfur from the earth and making charcoal, but I had found it far-fetched at the time.
“How would someone know how to build a bomb?”
“Lad, you have built several bombs yourself.”
“Yes, but that was with commercial-grade dynamite. I wouldn’t know where to start if I had to do it this way.”
“Aye, well, someone had the ingredients and the process locked away in his brain. Now go. See if anyone is missing.”
“Yes, sir.”
I pushed my way through the crowd at the kitchen door and ran upstairs to find the list I had made on my bedside table. Passing a tall dressing mirror, I noticed that I was caked in a layer of fine black powder. There were dark circles under my eyes which had begun to sting. I seized a pencil from my notebook and began checking off names. I ran downstairs again and gave the women at breakfast a fright, but only stayed long enough to count heads. I went down to the kitchen and counted everyone there before going outside to check on the male servants.
“Colonel,” I called. “Is Schroeder still locked in his room?”
“He is. I checked before coming down to breakfast.”
I went over to Barker, who was still standing over the malodorous hole in the ground.
“Sir, Algernon Kerry is missing.”
“I suspected as much,” he replied.
“That is a hellish way to go,” I said.
“Agreed. I wonder if the killer felt some special antipathy toward Mr. Kerry.”
I walked to the edge of the pit and looked down into the hole.
“I don’t wish to speak ill of the dead, sir, but I suspect we all did. He wasn’t a very pleasant fellow.”
Barker nodded.
“Do you suppose this is a ruse? Kerry might not have been in there at all. He could have joined the man in the woods!”
“That’s good thinking, Thomas, but I’m certain he was blown to bits. There is blood on the rocks at the base of the hole, and no one else is missing.”
“Poor blighter. Do you suppose Kerry was the intended target or merely the next person unlucky enough to use the privy?”
“I suspect the assassin has been going by a list of people to kill. You may not be aware, but the gardener has been carrying on as if we weren’t here. Flannan is dead, while he has been left unmolested to compost his roses.”
“So, is the killer civilian or military?”
“Can a civilian shoot the pipe from a man’s mouth at a hundred yards?”
“I see your point. But what I can’t understand is how he does it. He seems to take a gleeful pleasure in killing us. It’s like—”
“It’s like he’s having the time of his life,” Barker growled.
“What do we do now? There is nobody to bury.”
“And no priest to give him last rites.”
We stopped for a moment and prayed for Kerry’s soul. Though I had no idea what his religion was, if any, we did the best we could for him. I doubt he would have done the same for us. Smoke still billowed from the pit. Eventually it would need to be covered or repaired. The gardener came forward and looked down into the hole.
Barker turned to the male servants.
“Do you gentlemen suppose you could construct a makeshift privy using scrap lumber? It will be necessary.”
“We’ll get to it, sir,” the gardener said, pulling on his cap.
I looked at him. Like his comrades, he had prepared for our arrival, only to be met with poisonings, hardship, and fear. One man, one anonymous man, was holding all of us in his grip.
“I should have shot him when I had the chance,” I said to Barker. “I should have been carrying my revolver.”
“It would be best if you carried it from now on. At least until we leave the island.”
Going upstairs again, I pulled my Webley out of my suitcase and made certain it was properly loaded. It wasn’t merely that this man was killing people, it was that they were dying in the most ignoble of ways. Granted, one man couldn’t just walk in the hall door and face everyone armed with just a pistol. But this, blowing up a fellow in his most unguarded moment or poisoning him in a way that leaves him vomiting on his knees … This man must hate people, I thought.
