LITMIR.BIZ

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      ‘Mrs Thornborough has been most kind,’ said the superintendent. ‘I’ll leave her in your care now, doctor. I wonder if you’d mind asking Coates the chauffeur to come and see me?’

      Dr and Mrs Thornborough left the room and a few minutes later Coates appeared. He was a man of about forty-five, with a hoarse voice and a rather surly expression. In reply to the superintendent’s questions he said that he had been with Mr Fransham for five years, during which time he had lived in the house. Mr Fransham had always been a good master to him and very considerate. Mr Fransham never drove the car himself, but liked to go out most afternoons, either to visit friends or for a run in the country. He had very often driven Mr Fransham to Adderminster. Perhaps half a dozen times or more a year. Mrs Thornborough had frequently visited her uncle at No. 4, Cheveley Street, but Coates could not remember that Dr Thornborough had ever done so. It was fifty-three miles by mileage indicator from Cheveley Street to Epidaurus.

      ‘When did Mr Fransham tell you that he wanted you to drive him down here today?’ the superintendent asked.

      ‘Just after he had his breakfast this morning, sir,’ Coates replied. ‘He sent for me and told me that he’d have to cancel the orders given me yesterday, for he’d had a letter from the doctor asking him to drive down to lunch very specially.’

      ‘What orders had he given you yesterday, Coates?’

      ‘Well, sir, I’d told him that since the new car had done nearly a thousand miles, it was time that the makers looked over her to see that everything was right. So Mr Fransham had told me to take the car round to the Armstrong-Siddeley place in Cricklewood and leave her there over the weekend. But this morning he told me that would have to wait till Monday and said that a hundred miles one way or the other wouldn’t make much difference. So we started away at a quarter past eleven and were here sharp at one o’clock. Mr Fransham doesn’t like being driven too fast.’

      ‘You’ve heard that Mr Fransham has been killed, of course?’

      ‘The doctor told me so just now when he sent me in here, sir. And I’m bound to say that it sounds very queer to me.’

      ‘It is, very queer, Coates. You say that you got here at one o’clock sharp? Tell me exactly what you did when you arrived?’

      ‘I drove in at the gates, sir, stopped outside the front door, and rang the bell. Lucy opened the door and Mr Fransham went into the house. Then I drove the car round to the garage at the back. I looked round the car, then lit a cigarette. Then I waited where I was, knowing that somebody would come out and ask me into the house. I didn’t like to go in until I was invited, you understand, sir. And while I was waiting the doctor came along and spoke to me.’

      ‘Were you in the garage the whole time that you were waiting?’

      ‘Yes, sir, I was expecting somebody to come and call me into the house at any moment.’

      ‘Did anyone enter the carriage-way leading to the garage during that time?’

      Coates shook his head with an air of decision. ‘No, sir, I’m quite sure that they didn’t,’ he replied.

      ‘How can you be so sure of that? You can’t have been looking down the carriage-way all the time? You told me yourself that the first thing you did after you got here was to look round the car.’

      ‘That’s quite right, sir. But all the time I was looking round the car I had an eye open for somebody coming out of the house. If there had been anybody in the carriage-way during that time I should have seen them, I’m quite certain of that. And after I’d finished looking round the car, which didn’t take more than a couple of minutes, I just stood inside the garage doorway smoking a fag. And I don’t see how anybody could have come into the carriage-way then, without my noticing them.’

      This seemed reasonable enough. The distance from the garage door to the cloakroom window was not more than fifty yards in a direct line. It was incredible that anyone could have approached the window unknown to an observer at the door, himself on the alert for an expected summons. Yateley slightly changed the import of his questioning. ‘When you found the garage empty you guessed that Dr Thornborough was out on his rounds, I suppose?’

      ‘Well, I thought he might be, sir, but I couldn’t be sure. Sometimes when Mr Fransham was down here with his car, the doctor would leave his own somewhere in the town so as to leave the garage free for Mr Fransham’s car. There isn’t room for both, you see, sir.’

      ‘You saw the doctor’s car turn in at the drive gate, I suppose?’

      ‘Yes, sir, I caught sight of it as soon as it came round the corner. The doctor came straight down the carriage-way, stopped just outside the garage and then got out and spoke to me.’

      ‘Do you remember what he said?’

      ‘He said, “Why, Coates, I am surprised to see you! Did you drive Mr Fransham down?” I told him that Mr Fransham was indoors and he hurried into the house by the garden door.’

      Yateley dismissed Coates and then joined his subordinate in the cloakroom. ‘Well, Linton, have you found anything?’ he asked.

      ‘Nothing very much, I’m afraid, sir,’ Linton replied. ‘Nothing that could possibly account for the wound, that is. I’ve been right through the room and I can’t find a stone or anything that could have been thrown. Nor is there anything that could have made a wound of the shape the doctor described. There are a couple of walking-sticks, but they are both round with a crooked handle. And there are a couple of lady’s umbrellas, but one has a round ball at the end and the other a plain handle with a strap. I’ve put them out in the corner, sir, for you to look at.’

      ‘Where did you find these things?’ the superintendent asked.

      ‘Hanging on the pegs, sir, behind the coats.’

      Yateley very soon satisfied himself that the blow could not have been inflicted by any of the walking-sticks or umbrellas. ‘Have you been through Mr Fransham’s clothing?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes, sir, I have, but there’s nothing there. Nothing that could have caused the wound, that is. But I did find something else that I think you’ll like to see, sir.’

      He opened his notebook and took out a folded sheet of paper. ‘I found that in Mr Fransham’s wallet, sir.’

      Yateley took the paper and unfolded it. It was a single sheet of notepaper embossed with the address Epidaurus, Adderminster. Under this was typed a date, June 11, and a letter, also typewritten, followed:

      ‘DEAR UNCLE BOB, A situation has arisen here upon which Betty and myself should very much like your advice. The matter is urgent, since a decision will have to be reached upon it by Monday afternoon at the latest. I should have come up to London to see you, but you know how difficult it is for me to leave my practice at a moment’s notice. Could you possibly drive down to lunch tomorrow, Saturday, and we could discuss things afterwards? It would relieve Betty’s mind enormously if you would do this. We shall expect you unless we get a wire in the morning to say that you can’t come. But do try to manage it, for really it’s most important. Yours affectionately,’

      The letter was signed in ink, ‘Cyril.’

      Yateley frowned as he folded up the letter and put it in his pocket. ‘Have you had your dinner yet, Linton?’ he asked.

      ‘No, sir, I haven’t.’

      ‘Well, I’ll see that you’re relieved as soon as it can be managed. Meanwhile, I want you to stay here. If Dr Dorrington comes let him examine the body. But see that nothing whatever is taken from this room, or brought into it, either, for that matter.’

      Yateley returned to the consulting-room where he found Dr Thornborough sitting at his desk. The doctor looked up as he came in.

      ‘Oh there you are, superintendent,’ he said. ‘I’ve been on to Dorrington and he’s promised to come along here as soon as he’s finished lunch.’

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