Sgt Beef - Case Without A Corpse Part 28

Some gentlemen to see you, said the proprietor, and before there was time for a move from the inside, he flung open the door. Instantly, we pushed in.

It was a sitting-room, evidently the outer apartment of a suite. In two arm-chairs, both, as it happened, facing or half-facing the door, were a man and woman staring up at us in astonishment. The man was dressed in English tweeds but his heavy-jowled face was pasty and pouchy. At first, looking at that couple, one might have thought them a middle-aged English tourist and his wife, normal, nice, provincial people. But somehow there was something wrong. I could not define it then, I cannot now, but I was aware that something unpleasant distinguished this couple from the type they so nearly resembled. Stute turned quickly to Beef, and whispered Fairfax?

The Sergeant nodded, thereby fulfilling his whole purpose in our visit to France.

When the man spoke, his voice had that curious closed ring in it which is noticeable in people who form their speech too far back in their throat.

What's this? he said.

Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Freeman. But I would like to ask you a few questions. I'm Detective-Inspector Stute.

But. . . .

Yes. You're quite right. This is Sergeant Beef of Braxham. An unfortunate combination from your point of view, Mr. Fairfax. But there you are.

I don't know. ...

No, of course you don't yet, Mr. Ferris. We all have a lot to explain to one another. And as none of us want to waste time perhaps it would dc best if I told you first what we know. Then you won t have to waste time giving us a lot of unnecessary information. In the first place we know that your real name is Ferris, and that you have done time for drug-peddling. In the second place we know that you are identical with that much more respectable Mr. Hugo Freeman who lived for a time in Long Highbury and thus got a pa.s.sport ready for any emergency'. And thirdly we know that you are also that piscatorial Mr. Fairfax who used to stay at the Riverside Hotel, Braxham. We also know that you were receiving drugs from young Rogers. But there is quite a lot which we don't know and which you are going to tell us.

I watched the pair of them. The man had sunk back in his chair and turned a little pale, but was not showing any sign of panic or defiance. He was, I thought, considering, fairly collectedly, just how to treat all this.

The woman deliberately sipped her c.o.c.ktail. She had a raw hard face, with a large mouth and wide nostrils. She was quite unshaken.

There was a long silence. At last Stute continued.

To come direct to the point, I will ask you straight away, who was killed by you and Rogers that Wednesday night?

Fairfax seemed relieved at the question. Look here, he said, what are you really after? Drugs or murder?

They were almost his first words, and I respected his perception and decision. He did not waste time with a lot of stupid bluff. He did not deny his triple ident.i.ty. He knew that Stute was not blurring, on that point, anyway.

Both, said Stute.

Then I can't help you.

No?

No.

Another long silence.

But I'll tell you this much, said Fairfax at last The first I knew of any murder was when I read it in the papers. When I left Braxham to the best of my knowledge young Rogers had no more idea of murdering anyone than I had.

That, I felt, was true.

What time did you leave Braxham?

On the 2.50.

How far did you go?

What d'you mean? Oh, I see. Why, to London, of course.

Got an alibi?

Fairfax didn't like that word. It's got as far as alibis, has it? he said. Why should I need an alibi? Who has been murdered, anyway?

Stute spoke slowly. I think if you've got an alibi, Ferris, you'd better give it to me.

At this point the woman broke in.

Do for goodness' sake sit down, Inspector. You give me the jitters standing up all the time. And your . . . staff, she added, with an unfriendly glance at Beef and me.

Stute, without hesitation, accepted, and we followed.

''You'd better have a c.o.c.ktail, she went on. Oh, I can a.s.sure you it won't be drugged.

No, thanks. And now, Mr. Ferris.

Well, if I had known that it would be necessary, I would have arranged an alibi after your own heart for you. As it is, I'm afraid it may be rather sketchy. I had a hair-cut first in the station saloon.

Stute never took written notes. Information was stored more securely in his head.

Then, said Ferris, since I had left all our small luggage at Braxham, I went and bought two handbags at a shop called Flexus, in the Strand. I had them sent to our address in Hammersmith, so that the shop will probably have a record of my call. I then had a drink, since it was just opening time, at the Sword on the Cross in Fragrant Street, Covent Garden. I think the bar-maid might remember my call as there was a little altercation with an itinerant vendor of a publication called the War-Cry while I was in the bar.

Yes?

I had a meal in the Bra.s.serie of Lyons Corner House in Coventry Street. I sat, I well remember, at a table near the orchestra, and was attended by a tall young waiter. After that I went to the Flintshire Hotel, just off Russell Square, where I booked a room for the night.

In your own name?

Er, not actually. I can't think why not. Habit I suppose. Fortescue was the name I chose.

Well, go on.

I did. I went out and had two drinks at a strange pub whose name I don't remember, and returned soon after ten, to bed. I had occasion, not long afterwards, to tap on the wall and admonish a lady and gentleman involved in a somewhat stormy argument.

I see If that all checks up, you seem to be fairly well accounted for. Why didn't you go home that night?

Really, Inspector, what a question. Surely you can use your powers of deduction better than that.

Oh, tell him, Sam, said his wife suddenly. You're not admitting anything now. We don't want this murder business pestering us.

Fairfax considered. Perhaps you're right, he said. Well, let's put it this way, Inspector. Supposemind you I only supposethat there had been certain dealing as between young Rogers and me, which I wasn't anxious to have scrutinized. And suppose that that afternoon, while I was with young Rogers in the Dragon, we had observed a gentleman whom we thought anxious to scrutinize them. . . .

The foreigner! I couldn't help putting in.

And suppose that therefore I decided to ... go away for a holiday, as it were, as promptly as practicable. Well, you see? I might not think my home address the healthiest of all places in London. I might not have wished either to return to the pretentious precincts of Riverside Private Hotel, or to my flat in Hammersmith just then.