The Floating Admiral - Agatha Christie [49]
Rudge thanked him, and rang off. Then after a minute or two he took an obvious precaution. He rang up the Charing Cross Hotel.
“Have you a Mr. Mount—Rev. Philip Mount—staying in the hotel?”
A slight pause; then: “Yes, sir.”
“Is Mr. Mount in the hotel?”
“I will enquire; will you hold the line, sir?”
A subdued babel; then the metallic clack of advancing footsteps and the rattle of the receiver.
“Hullo, yes: who is it, please?”
“That’s him all right,” thought Rudge. Aloud he said, “I just remembered something I wanted to ask you, sir,” and repeated his question about the length of the painter.
The Vicar confirmed Peter’s statement and Rudge thanked him and rang off.
“All O.K. so far. I didn’t like him going off like that, but he seems straight enough. Hope he is, because of these kids. But that rope’s a teaser and no mistake.”
The eight-fifty arrived at Whynmouth in due course, and presently a taxi drew up at Rundel Croft. Rudge heard it turn up the drive and stop. His hopes rose, then sank again as he heard the door-bell.
“Mrs. Holland would have walked in,” he muttered, disappointed. “But no!” He cheered up again. “The door’s locked, of course, because of possible intruders.”
Emery’s steps shuffled through the hall. The study door opened and a tall, thin, grey-headed man was shown in—alone.
“Mr. Dakers?” said Rudge, rising and executing something between a salute and a bow.
“Yes,” said the lawyer, “and you, I take it, are Inspector Rudge. Quite so. Well now, Inspector, I am sorry to say I have failed to see either Mr. or Mrs. Holland. They are certainly staying at the Carlton, and were expected back to dinner. I have left a note for Mrs. Holland expressed in such terms that I think she can scarcely fail to pay attention to it. I need not say again how shocked and grieved I am at the whole occurrence.”
“I quite see your point of view, sir,” said Rudge, “and I may add that the absence of Mr. and Mrs. Holland is making my own task none the easier. By the way, sir, I am in a somewhat peculiar position in this house, with Admiral Penistone dead and nobody else in charge, so to speak, but I dare say I shan’t be out of order in asking you if you have dined, before we go on to business.”
“Thank you, Inspector, thank you—but I require nothing. I am obliged to you. I should like to hear at once all the details of this sad affair.”
Rudge rapidly outlined the circumstances of the Admiral’s death and the departure of his niece, while Mr. Dakers contributed a running commentary of “Tuts” and “Dear, dears.”
“There seems to be no doubt then, that Admiral Penistone was murdered.”
“None at all, I am afraid, sir.”
“He could not, I suppose, have—er—made away with himself and thrown the weapon into the river.”
This solution had not presented itself to Rudge, but he replied that judging by the position of the body and the general circumstances, he thought it almost outside the bounds of probability.
Mr. Dakers nodded mournfully.
“I take it,” he said, with the air of a man taking a ferocious bull by the horns, “that there is—er—no suspicion attaching to my ward or her husband?”
“Well,” said Rudge, cautiously, “I couldn’t say that suspicion attaches to any particular person so far. And other things being equal, the crime is certainly not the kind that we would suspect a young lady of. We know very little as yet about Mr. Holland. Possibly you can help us there, sir?”
Mr. Dakers shook his head.
“I know very little about him, beyond his name, and the fact that he was, in a manner, engaged to my ward.”
“Did the engagement have Admiral Penistone’s consent, sir?”
The lawyer looked very shrewdly at him.
“I see what is in your mind, Inspector. Well, I suppose that is only to be expected, and it is quite useless for me to attempt to disguise the facts. So far as I know, Admiral Penistone, while reluctant as yet to give his consent to the marriage, had not definitely forbidden it. That is as much as I can tell you.”
“I see, sir.