“What do you mean by that?”
“Just that he’s a bit old to be behaving like a deb’s delight. Isn’t it about time he got a job?”
“He hasn’t found anything suitable,” Lady Ridgleigh replied, dismissing the subject.
“Well, I would think he’s a bit old still to be sponging on his mother…”
Lady Ridgleigh flared up. “How dare you use that word in connection with my son! What business is it of yours how he behaves? And what business of yours is it if I choose to…help him a little with his expenses?”
“Not my business at all.”
“Exactly. Thank you. I happen to believe that someone of his age shouldn’t have to worry about money. In fact, I don’t think anyone should have to. Worrying about money is demeaning, depressing, and unutterably vulgar!”
“I agree. The fact remains that a large percentage of the population spend most of their time worrying about it.”
“Which is exactly why I have always been determined that Miles shouldn’t!”
“Even if it means committing criminal acts to keep him in funds?”
“Criminal acts? What on earth are you talking about?”
“We’re back to Desmond Chiddham.”
“I don’t know Mr Chiddham personally. I have done business with him, but I’m afraid if he is a criminal, I can hardly see that it’s my responsibility.”
“No. How did you hear about his service?”
“Through a friend,” came the huffy reply. “A friend, who had experienced similar embarrassments, recommended him.”
“And the idea was that you should send him the Ridgleigh family jewels, he should replace the stones with replicas, sell the original stones for you and pay you the profit?”
“That, I believe, was the arrangement.”
“You didn’t ask him to remake any of the settings in cheaper metals?”
“Good heavens, no. The idea was that the jewellery should look as much as possible as it had before.”
“But it didn’t, did it?”
“What do you mean?”
“It didn’t look good enough to meet with your high standards, did it? Which is why you never wore it once it had been altered…why you continued to wear your one remaining genuine necklace, your pearls, all the time…even with clothes for which they were inappropriate.”
“Yes. Very well. That’s true.”
“But the jewels were good enough to maintain your image of wealth with someone like Miss Naismith. Which is why, although they are virtually worthless, you still keep them in the safe in the Office.”
“That may be true, but I don’t see how it’s relevant.” Lady Ridgleigh was at her haughtiest. “And I would now like you to substantiate your accusations that I have been guilty of criminal acts.”
“First, I want you to tell me how Newth came to be involved in your dealings with Desmond Chiddham.”
“I could hardly be expected to handle the transactions myself, could I?” She spoke as if this idea were totally incongruous. “Obviously, when I was living in the big house, I would have had a member of staff to do that sort of thing for me. Here…well, there was no one else, so I asked Newth if he would help me, and he was good enough to oblige.”
“And what was the deal with him?”
“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I don’t understand that expression.”
“Presumably you wanted discretion. How much did you pay Newth for his silence?”
Lady Ridgleigh’s reply was tinged with distaste at the idea of speaking so nakedly of money. “Newth was paid a ten-per-cent handling fee.”
“Right,” said Mrs Pargeter. “So what happened when the jewellery ran out?”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“When you had sold off all the stones from all the valuable pieces you possessed, what did you do?”
The bony shoulders shrugged in the half-light. “Well, what could I do? I sold a few shares. I tried to cut down on my expenses – gave up drinking alcohol and so on. And I kept putting off the moment when I would have to sell the pearls. But I feared that moment had finally come – until this week.”
“This week?”
“The happy news of Mrs Selsby’s bequests to all of the people living here at the Devereux.”
“Oh yes. Of course. A very welcome lifeline.”
“Indeed.”
“So…since her name’s come up – what about Mrs Selsby’s jewels?”
Lady Ridgleigh looked blank. “Well, they were stolen, weren’t they? I don’t think Mrs Selsby’s jewels have anything to do with me.”
“No, I don’t think they have,” said Mrs Pargeter slowly, and turned in her chair to face Newth.
He was no longer looking at her with that disturbing intensity. His eyes were now focused on the highly polished toe-caps of his shoes.
“So that was all off your own bat, was it, Kevin?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he mumbled.
“Oh, I think you do. It was a good idea. Lady Ridgleigh had shown you how it could be done. You’d taken enough of her jewellery to Desmond Chiddham. But you were only on ten per cent there, weren’t you? And, besides, the supply was running out.
“Then you thought of Mrs Selsby. Dear, dozy, half-blind Mrs Selsby. She had a lot of jewellery lying around. She wouldn’t notice if a piece went missing for a week or two, would she? And her eyesight certainly wasn’t good enough to detect that the stones had been replaced. What’s more, with her stuff, you were taking a hundred per cent of the profit. And, to make even more, why not have the settings replaced too?”
“You’re talking rubbish,” said Newth. But he didn’t sound as if he was even convincing himself.
“No, I’m not. You’d got yourself a very good little business sorted out there. Very profitable. Easily make enough to buy a nice retirement bungalow in Lancing.”
Newth’s head shot up at this.
“Yes, I know, Kevin. I know all about it. Your little scheme was absolutely foolproof, wasn’t it? Or rather it was foolproof as long as no one found out. But if anyone did find out, then they could cause trouble for you, couldn’t they?”
Newth had half-risen in his seat, and was looking at Mrs Pargeter with an expression of fixed hatred.
“How did Mrs Selsby find out what was going on, Kevin?” she asked softly.
He was now on his feet, towering over her, every muscle of his body bristling with threat.
“I’ll get you!” he hissed through his teeth. “I’ll get you for this!” For a moment he was about to strike her, but he seemed to change his mind, and backed towards the door.
“Nobody’s going to catch me,” he muttered. “Nobody’s going to catch me!”
He opened the door and rushed out.
Mrs Pargeter hurried into the Entrance Hall, and was just in time to see the front doors bang behind him. She went outside and saw his figure running madly along the sea front away from the Devereux. He was too far away for her to contemplate giving chase.
♦
She felt completely drained as she went back into the hotel. Wearily she dragged herself up the stairs to her bedroom.
Meanwhile, in the Seaview Lounge, Lady Ridgleigh stayed in her armchair and called out peevishly to the empty room, “I wish someone would tell me what the devil’s going on.”
∨ A Nice Class of Corpse ∧
37
Mrs Pargeter flopped on to her bed. She felt trembly, in need of some sort of restorative. For a moment she contemplated the effort of going back down to the Schooner Bar for a brandy. Then, wryly, she remembered that there was no one at the moment around to man the Schooner Bar.
She wondered where Newth would go. She didn’t think he’d get far.
Soon, she knew, she’d have to call the police. Soon she’d have to explain the reasons why she had reached the conclusion that Newth was a murderer.