‘Any money?’ ‘No.’
‘Had he a banking account?’
‘Yes; he had a small account with Lloyds. Matter of a little over three hundred pounds. But he drew the whole lot out three weeks ago.’
‘Did he? Whatever for? It wouldn’t cost him all that to buy a razor.’
‘No, but I said he’d been settling his debts.’ ‘Three hundred pounds worth of them?’
‘I don’t say that. Fact is we can’t trace more than twenty pounds odd. But he may have owed money in lots of places.
As he’s burnt all his papers, you see, it’s a bit difficult to tell. We shall make inquiries, naturally. But I shouldn’t be: surprised if those hundred pounds had gone to some girl or other. There’s that Leila Garland — a hard-boiled little piece if ever there was one. She could tell a lot if she liked, I daresay, but we aren’t allowed to ask anybody any questions these days. If they say they won’t answer, they won’t and there’s an end of it. You can’t force ’em.’
‘Leila Garland — that’s the girl he used to go with?’
‘That’s it, my lord, and from what I can make out she turned Mister Alexis down good and hard. Terrible cut — up he was about it, too, according to her. She’s got an fellow now — sort of friend of Alexis, but a cut above him, as far as I can make out., Sort of dago fellow; leads the orchestra down at the Winter Gardens, and makes a pretty good thing out of it, I fancy. You know the sort, all la-di-dah and snake-skin shoes. Nothing wrong with him, though, as far as that goes. He was quite frank about it, and so was the girl. Alexis introduced, them, and, presently the young woman got the idea that she could do better with the dago than with Alexis. She says Alexis was getting very close with his money, and didn’t seem to have his mind as, much on Miss Leila as he might have. Possibly he had his eye on somebody else all the time and that was where the money went. Anyhow, Leila makes up her mind to give him the push and takes up with the dago, Luis da Soto, instead. Of course there was a scene, and Alexis threatens to make
away with himself — Did he say anything about throat-cutting?’
‘Well, no, he didn’t. Said he’d take poison. But what’s the odds? He said he’d make away with himself and he’s done it, and here we are.’
‘Did you, by any chance, find any poison — you know, sleepy stuff or anything of that sort in his room?’ ‘Not a thing,’ said the Inspector, triumphantly.
‘But Inspector,’ put in Harriet, who had been listening to this conversation in becoming silence, ‘if you think Alexis had another girl in tow, why should he commit suicide when Leila Garland turned him down?’
‘I couldn’t say, I’m sure, miss. Maybe the other one turned him down as well.’
‘And left him a low, lore crittur, with all the world contrairy with him,’ said Wimsey.
‘Yes, and then there was this Mrs Weldon. We found out about her through these other girls. Wouldn’t you say a prospect like’ that was enough to make any young fellow cut his throat?’
‘He could have gone away,’ said Harriet.
‘And suppose he owed her money and she turned crusty and threatened to put him in court? What about that?’
‘Perhaps the three hundred pounds—’ began Wimsey..
‘Oh, no, no!’ cried Harriet indignantly. ‘You mustn’t think that. It’s absolutely ridiculous. Why, the poor woman was infatuated with him. He could have turned her round his little finger. She’d given him anything he wanted. Besides, she told me he wouldn’t take her money.’
‘Ah! But supposing he’d have given her the go-by, miss. She might have cut up rough about that.’
‘She would have been the one to kill herself then,’ said Harriet, firmly ‘She wouldn’t have harmed him for the world, poor soul. Put him in court? Nonsense!’
‘Now you know very well, miss,’ said Inspector Umpelty, ‘that it says In the Bible that the infernal regions, begging your pardon, knows no fury like a woman scorned. I’ve always remembered that from my school-days, and I find it gives a very useful line to follow in our way of business. If this Mrs Weldon—’
‘Rubbish!’ said Harriet. ‘She’d never have done anything of the sort. I know — she wouldn’t.’
‘Ah!’ Inspector Umpelty winked in a friendly manner at Wimsey. ‘When the ladies get to knowing things by this feminine intuition and all that, there’s no arguing with it. But what I say is, let’s suppose it, just for the moment.’
‘I won’t suppose it,’ retorted Harriet.
‘We seem to have reached a no-thoroughfare,’ remarked Wimsey. ‘Let’s leave that for the time being, Inspector. You can come and suppose it in the bar, quietly, later on.
Though I don’t think it very likely myself. It’s our turn to suppose something. Suppose a fishing-boat had wanted to come in at, the — Flat-Iron just about low tide on Thursday — could she do it?’
‘Easy, my lord. Some of these boats don’t draw more than a foot of water. You could bring her, in beautifully, provided you kept clear of the Grinders, and remembered to reckon with the current!’
‘A stranger might get into difficulties, perhaps.!’
‘He might, but not if he was a good seaman and could read a chart. He could bring a small boat up within a dozen feet of the Flat-Iron any day, unless the wind was setting with the current across the bay, when he might get driven on to the rocks if he wasn’t careful!
‘I see. That makes it all very interesting. We are supposing a murder, you see, Inspector, and we’ve ‘thought out two ways of doing it. We’d be glad to have your opinion.’
Inspector Umpelty listened with an indulgent smile to the rival theories of the Man in the Fishing-boat and the Man in the Niche, and then said:
‘Well, miss, all I can say is, I’d like to read some of those books of yours. It’s wonderful, the way you, work it all in., But about that boat. That’s queer, that is. We’ve been trying to get a line on that, because whoever was in it must have seen something. Most of the fishing-boats were out off Shelly Point, but there’s a few of them I haven’t checked up on, and of course, it might be some of the visitors from Wilvercombe or Lesston Hoe. We’re always warning these amateurs to keep from the Grinders, but do they? No. You’d think some of them was out for a day’s suicide, the way they go on. But I’ve got an idea who it was, all the same.’
‘How about those cottages along the coast, where I went to try and get help?’ asked Harriet. ‘Surely they must have seen the boat? I thought those sort of people knew every boat in the place by sight.’
‘That’s just it,’ replied the Inspector. ‘We’ve asked them and they’re all struck blind and dumb, seemingly. That’s
why I say I think I could put a name to the boat. But we’ll find a way to make them come across with it, never fear. They’re a surly lot, those Pollocks and Moggeridges, and up to no good, in my opinion. They’re not popular with the other fishers, and when you find a whole family boycotted by the rest of them, there’s usually something at the back of it.’