‘Wouldn’t they be interested in a hangman’s deperty assistant? There’s plenty in favour of bringin’ back the rope, you know.’
‘But you can’t mean —’
‘Oh, yes, and better nor that. Went back to me real name, of course, when I took the job at the hall of residence. The warden knows me personal history, but nobody else. Lost me position, you see, never mind why; it will all be in the book. I didn’t fancy comin’ down to bein’ a screw at Parkhurst or Dartmoor or wherever it would have been. Me life wouldn’t have been worth a dog-biscuit among a buggerin’ lot of bloody murderers, specially with a name like mine.’
‘You astound me, Bull, you really do! The only thing is that I’m pretty sure it’s been done already, you know — this autobiography of a public executioner.’
‘Oo by?’
‘I couldn’t say off-hand.’
‘So nor couldn’t nobody else, then, could ’em? Look, supposin’ as how whoever it is and me gets the book wrote up and put in typin’, what’s the chance you’ll take it on and see it through for us?’
‘It would depend entirely upon how good a book it was, and I warn you that our standards are high. We’re not in the market for duds. We have our reputation to consider. Look here, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If I can find you a reputable “ghost”, I’ll let you know; and if we recommend a ghost-writer, it will be a good one. I would have to arrange a meeting, though, to make sure that the journalist is willing to take the job on. I’ve got somebody in mind, as a matter of fact, but I’m not sure that yours is a job which would appeal to a woman.’
‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘Thanks, Mr Melrose. Be seein’ you. Thought you might be interested.’
‘All right, Bull. I’ll look into it. By the way, what makes you think that, when hanging was done away with, they would make you a screw at one of HM prisons?’
‘Why wouldn’t they? I’d given good service, hadn’t I? Got testimonials, haven’t I, for all they’re writ in a foreign langwidge.’
‘I shouldn’t have thought you were tall enough to take a job as a prison warder. You weren’t tall enough to put that electric light bulb back without a ladder, were you?’
I could see he thought the reference to the past was rather tactless. As soon as he had gone, I called in Sandy and Elsa. When Elsa had finished laughing, she said, ‘Why don’t you kill two birds with one stone?’
‘As how?’
‘Stick him on to Dame Beatrice’s granddaughter and so get your psychiatrist interested in Carbridge’s murder from a personal standpoint. We’ve got Miss Lestrange’s name on our books. She has published a couple of novels, but they didn’t do much good, so she trained as a journalist and works on her local paper. Now and again she gets a piece accepted by the Sunday papers and women’s mags, and she does quite a bit of ghosting. She is down under the Stone House address, but that is given merely to inspire confidence and impress Sally’s clients. I don’t suppose Dame Beatrice has anything to do with it except to give permission for her address to be used. I expect her secretary is told to re-address any letters which come for the granddaughter and send them on. It’s just a family thing. Blood is thicker than water, after all.’
‘Oh, well,’ I said, ‘the connection with Dame Beatrice makes my job easier in a way. I shall ring up and ask where I can get in touch with Sally Lestrange and explain why I want to see her. Of course there isn’t the slightest chance that we shall sponsor Bull’s book and attempt to wish it on to a publisher.’
‘Why not?’ said Elsa. ‘Mycroft and Holmes might take it if it’s any good at all. They specialise in that sort of thing.’
‘Anyway, I’ll ring up and find out what’s doing,’ I said. ‘Obviously the Stone House is only an accommodation address, as you say. I suppose Miss Lestrange’s own isn’t very impressive.’
I rang up at four. As the song says, everything stops for tea. Laura answered, so I told her why I was calling the Stone House and asked where I could get in touch with Miss Sally Lestrange.
‘Hang on a minute,’ she said. The next voice was that of Dame Beatrice, so I explained myself again to her.
‘How enterprising people are!’ she said. ‘A hangman’s assistant, you say. I wish you would come and see me, Mr Melrose, before you tackle Sally. To quote Oberon — unless Shakespeare was making it all up — “this falls out better than I could devise”. When may we expect you?’
‘Whenever is convenient to you.’
‘Come to lunch tomorrow, then.’
‘Thank you very much.’
So, once again, I found myself at the Stone House. Before lunch, Laura gave me Miss Lestrange’s address and after lunch we sat in the garden in upholstered cane chairs — deck chairs are one of my abominations — and talked about Bull and the death of Carbridge.
I referred to the complaints of Trickett and Bull that they were still being harassed by Bingley and I also mentioned that, if Carbridge had been dead for at least four hours when the police surgeon first looked at the body, he must have been on the premises at four in the afternoon or earlier. ‘And I can’t think why,’ I said.
‘I wonder how long the students took in the preparation of their party,’ said Laura. ‘An hour, two hours, three?’
‘Not more than two at the very outside, I should say. It wasn’t like Christmas, for example. I mean, there were no decorations to put up, no elaborate cooking to be done. So far as I could see, the food was nothing but hamburgers, cocktail sausages, potato crisps and salted peanuts. There was nothing which could not be handed round more or less on the spot. There were mugs and glasses set out, but that could have been done in less than ten minutes and all the drinks were in bottles, so there was no preparation needed there.’
‘In any case, as one of the invited guests, Mr Carbridge would hardly have been asked for help in getting the party ready,’ said Dame Beatrice.
‘I still don’t know how he found out how to oil into the place without anybody else’s knowledge. I suppose he may have heard the students mention the back entrance at one of the youth hostels and simply stored up the information. He could even have arranged to meet one of the students there, but it would need to be early on, because later the other students would be getting the party ready.’
‘You mean cherchez la femme, then,’ said Laura.
‘But les femmes knew nothing about the geography of the hall of residence. It’s a pad for men students,’ I said. Laura laughed and said that she had been a student, too, in her time. ‘Not that we went in for present-day capers,’ she added, ‘but there was a men’s college not so far from ours and bets of various kinds were offered and, from time to time, accepted. Besides, if Carbridge wanted to meet one of the girls and couldn’t meet her at his digs for some reason, what was to prevent him from sending her a note and suggesting they met at the back door of the hall and he would take her in with him?’
‘I think it must have been the other way round, if it happened at all,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘I think your reconstruction is unarguable, but, as you have indicated, the women students probably knew more about the men’s hall of residence than the authorities may have thought suitable. Therefore it is more likely that the assignation was made by the girl than by Mr Carbridge. Had it been suggested by him, she might or might not have agreed to it.’
‘She wouldn’t, if we’re talking about Patsy Carlow,’ I put in. ‘Todd was interested in her, too, or so I was told, and anybody who could have Todd wasn’t very likely to bother about an ass like Carbridge. I even had to keep an eye on Todd and Hera, if you want to know.’
‘The plot thickens,’ said Laura. ‘Suppose Patsy makes the ploy, Carbridge is flattered and goes blithely to his doom?’