‘When?’ demanded Greg. ‘Her day has been pretty well accounted for. She spent the morning shopping in Naivasha, the afternoon in her room, had tea with you on the verandah, and went out shooting with you immediately afterwards – in order to avoid, I gather, what looked like being an embarrassing tête-à-tête with young Ken Brandon. And as it was just after you got back that she went across to the Markhams with a message for Lisa, there doesn’t seem to be any point during the day when she could have carried a cushion out to the knoll. Now, can you remember what you yourself did on Tuesday, Em? In detail?’
‘I think so,’ said Em, frowning. ‘Let me see – I had breakfast in bed and didn’t get up until just before Eden left. I asked him to fetch the clock and to ring up the Airport and check the time that Victoria would be arriving, and we discussed the purchase of Jimmy’s Land-Rover. After Eden had gone I saw the cook and told Kamau what I wanted in the way of vegetables, and then Alice and I made out a list of things we wanted from the stores in Naivasha. As soon as she had gone I started on the milk records, and then Lisa came over to see Eden, but Zacharia told her he’d left. She said she wouldn’t disturb me, and left a note asking if we’d give her a lift next time either of us went into Nairobi. I heard the dogs barking and went to see who it was, but she was already half-way across the garden by then, so I didn’t stop her.’
Greg said: ‘Do the dogs always bark when anyone comes to the house?’
‘If they’re around. But they stop at once if it’s anyone they know.’
‘What time was it when Lisa came over?’
‘About twenty to eleven I should say: Alice had just left. Then at eleven Gilly came over on business and stayed for half an hour, and he’d only just gone when the Brandons dropped in. We had coffee, and Hector went off to see Kamau about some fodder we’re selling him, while Mabel and I talked.’
‘What about?’
The question was asked so casually that Em had started to answer it before she realized where it would lead her: ‘She’d seen Alice’s car in Naivasha and knew she wouldn’t be here, and she wanted to see me alone because she was worried about——’
She stopped abruptly, her face flushing in the unbecoming and mottled manner of the old, while her lips folded into a tight hard line.
Eden gave a short and mirthless laugh, and finished the sentence for her. ‘About Ken. You needn’t worry, Gran darling. It’s no secret. What did she want you to do. Ship Alice home, or slip some arsenic in her soup?’
‘Eden!’ Once again Em’s voice was sharp and commanding, and this time it was edged with anger.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Eden impatiently. ‘I quite see that under the present circumstances that was a bloody silly remark to make. But you must admit that Mabel’s been making a complete cake of herself over her precious Ken. It wasn’t Alice’s fault that her kid had a hopeless crush on her. Heaven knows she did everything she could to choke him off! But it wasn’t at all easy for her, what with Ken threatening suicide and generally behaving like an amateur actor getting his teeth into Hamlet. She ought to have let me deal with him.’
‘She was quite right not to,’ said Em tartly. ‘She took the very sensible view that it was really only like measles or teething – something that everyone gets when young, though some children get it worse than others. He’d have got over it soon enough. But if you’d taken a hand and lectured him, we’d have had a first class Brandon–DeBrett feud on our hands, and we neither of us wanted that. Hector and Mabel are good friends of mine, and good neighbours; but Ken is their Achilles heel.’
‘Ken,’ said Eden morosely, echoing sentiments recently expressed by Mr Gilbert, ‘is a spoilt, egotistical pup who fancies himself as a cross between Byron and an Angry Young Man. For God’s sake, what’s he got to be crazy or mixed up about? He’s only had to ask for something, to be given it!’
‘Perhaps that’s why,’ said Em with a sigh. ‘He’s just finding out that now he is grown up there are a good many things he can’t have for the asking, and he feels that someone is to blame for it. He’ll grow out of it.’
‘Returning to Mabel,’ said Mr Gilbert firmly. ‘How long did she stay on Tuesday morning, and could she have removed that cushion?’
‘No, of course she didn’t!’ said Em with a snap. ‘Why on earth should she?’
‘That’s not the point. The question was “could she?” Or was she with you the entire time?’
‘Well, no,’ said Em reluctantly. ‘I— Well it was all rather stupid really. I suppose I wasn’t very sympathetic, and Mabel was hurt. She said she’d wait in the garden until Hector was ready to leave, and I went back to the office. But if you think that Mabel had anything to do with Alice’s murder, you must be going out of your mind! She was a bit upset about this infatuation of Ken’s, but that was all. And of course she had nothing to do with that cushion. Unless——’
She paused, frowning, and Greg said: ‘Unless what?’
‘Well, I suppose she might have taken it up to the knoll and sat there to wait for Hector. I never thought of that. There you are – I expect that’s all there is to it. A perfectly simple explanation.’
‘Perfectly,’ said Greg. ‘But if so, why didn’t she admit to it? We asked everyone about it the next day.’
‘I expect she forgot,’ said Em flatly.
‘Perhaps. We can always try and jog her memory. What did you do for the rest of the day?’
‘Nothing special. Alice got back around one, and after luncheon I rested, and as you already know we had tea on the verandah at half-past four. Ken arrived in the middle of it, so we had to offer him some. He said he wanted to discuss something with Alice, but I said he would have to postpone it as she was coming out in the Land-Rover with me. I was rather afraid that he’d still be there when we got back, but he wasn’t.’
‘What time did you get back?’
‘About a quarter to six. It was only then that I remembered Lisa’s note, and Alice said she’d walk over and tell her that I’d be going into Nairobi on the Thursday to meet Victoria, and she could come in then. I shouldn’t have let her go. But – how was I to know?’
Em’s voice cracked and Eden crossed the space between them in two strides and put an arm about his grandmother’s shoulders. ‘Don’t, Gran! It wasn’t your fault. You’ve nothing to blame yourself for.’
Em said almost inaudibly: ‘Yes I have. If I hadn’t sent her over — Or if I had only——’
Eden released her and said harshly: ‘If! – if, if, if! Why worry yourself over ifs? – If I hadn’t married Alice she wouldn’t have come to Kenya. And if she hadn’t come to Kenya she wouldn’t have been murdered. But does that mean that I am responsible for her death?’
He flung away and dropped into another chair, his legs stretched out before him and his hands deep in his pockets, and Mr Gilbert regarded him thoughtfully for a moment or two, and then turned his attention to Drew Stratton.
‘Now about you, Drew. I’d like an account – a detailed account, please – of your last meeting with Mrs DeBrett.’
‘I’ll try,’ said Drew, and embarked on a reasonably accurate account of that evening. ‘She was,’ he ended deliberately, ‘very much upset at the prospect of Miss Caryll’s arrival.’
Victoria shrank back in her chair as though he had struck her, while Eden flushed a dull red and Em said indignantly: ‘That is not true! You are imagining things. I told her that if she would rather Victoria did not come she had only to say so.’
Drew said: ‘Lady Emily, I did not know your granddaughter-in-law very well. But I knew her well enough to know that she would not allow her own feelings in the matter to stand in the way of your wishes; and I cannot imagine any normal woman feeling much enthusiasm for having an ex-fiancée of her husband’s installed as a permanent fixture in the home.’
‘Is that true?’ demanded Mr Gilbert of Victoria. ‘Were you two engaged?’
‘I——’ began Victoria, but got no further. Eden was on hi
s feet again, his handsome face ugly with anger.
‘No it is not! There was at one time what I believe is termed an “understanding” between us, but it was a purely private matter, and still is. So you needn’t think that you’re going to wash a lot of dirty linen in public and drag Victoria into this beastly business. You can keep her out of it!’
‘My dear Eden, no one is trying to drag Miss Caryll into anything,’ said Greg pacifically. ‘But, unfortunately, the personal relationships of people who are involved, however inadvertently, in a murder case, are always a matter of interest.’
‘Victoria is not “involved” in any of this!’
‘Only indirectly.’
Em straightened herself in the wing-back chair, and once again it was an autocrat who sat there; imperious, regal and accustomed to being obeyed. She said: ‘I think we had better get this quite straight, Greg. I am not a fool, and I dislike beating about the bush. It wastes time. What you are attempting to discover is whether Eden, or possibly myself, murdered Alice – be quiet, Eden! That is it, isn’t it?’
‘As a matter of fact,’ said Mr Gilbert, ‘and speaking solely for myself— No. But that is because you are both personal friends of mine and I know you fairly well. Speaking officially, however, it is not outside the bounds of possibility, and therefore it is just as well to consider that angle so that it can be abandoned. Helps clear the decks, if you know what I mean.’
‘I know exactly what you mean,’ said Em tartly. ‘And you will allow me to tell you that I consider the suggestion an impertinence.’
‘Impertinence my foot!’ blazed Eden. ‘It’s a damned insult!’
Em said wearily: ‘Oh, do be quiet Eden. To term it an insult is to take it seriously. I suppose that such a thing might just be possible, but it is in the highest degree improbable.’
Drew gave her an odd sideways look and said reprovingly: ‘You ought to count up to ten before you make statements like that, Em. It was, I think, the late lamented Sherlock Holmes who announced that in any problem, if the impossible was eliminated, what remained, however improbable, was bound to be the answer. Or words to that effect.’
‘If that is so, Greg had better arrest me at once!’ retorted Em with spirit. ‘Of course I could have done it! I was here, wasn’t I? In fact I was the only person who was here. Eden was in Nairobi, and as far as I know no one else called at Flamingo that evening. However, I assure you that I did not do it. And now perhaps we can terminate this unpleasant interview. Unless of course there are any more questions that Greg wishes to ask?’
‘A few,’ said Greg placidly. ‘These queer incidents in the house – the breakages. Can you remember exactly when they started?’
Em wrinkled her brow in thought and after a moment or two said slowly: ‘Let me see – the first thing was the K’ang Hsi vase. We found it on the floor in bits when we came back from a luncheon party. And there was red ink all over the carpet.’
‘The Langley’s party,’ said Eden. ‘Eleventh of last month.’
Greg jotted down the date and said: ‘When was the next time?’
‘Only a few days later,’ said Em. ‘It must have been a Saturday, because that’s the day I give out the posho, and I’d just finished doing it when Zacharia came to say that something else had been broken. Mother’s Rockingham plates.’
‘Fourteenth,’ said Greg, who had been checking the dates in a pocket diary. ‘I gather you had a good many incidents of this kind. Any sort of pattern?’
‘No. After that it was almost every day. Then nothing for several days, and we thought it had stopped, and then it started again. It – it began to get on my nerves.’
Greg said: ‘You ought to have reported it to the police at once.’
‘I know that – now. But at the time I— Well, you know quite well why I didn’t, Greg! I won’t have my servants taken away and held for questioning or jailed on suspicion. They couldn’t all have been in it, and why should the rest suffer because one man had got some queer, twisted African idea into his head, and imagined himself to be paying off a grudge? I thought it would work itself out. If I’d realized——’
Em’s voice failed, and Greg said: ‘When did you decide to send for Miss Caryll? Before all this started? Or afterwards?’
‘Afterwards. I think – I think on the day the record of the concerto was broken. That – upset me. I found that I couldn’t concentrate any more on the things I usually did myself. And Alice was frightened. I felt I must have someone to help me, and I thought of Victoria.’
Greg turned an enquiring look on Victoria and she answered the unspoken question. ‘Aunt Em’s letter arrived about three weeks ago. It gave me just time to have all the inoculations and things done, and that was all.’
Mr Gilbert nodded absently and turned back to Lady Emily. ‘Just one more question. After your dog was poisoned, were there any more acts of vandalism in the house?’
‘No.’ Em’s voice was a hoarse whisper, and Eden spoke harshly, his back still to the room: ‘Gilly was right: that was one step further and we ought to have realized it. It started with something quite trivial, and finished with – Alice.’
‘If it has finished,’ said Greg soberly.
Eden spun round. ‘Why do you say that?’
Greg shrugged his shoulders and said: ‘It has been fairly conclusively proved that someone who kills once, and gets away with it, will kill again. Either to cover the first killing, or because the snuffing out of a human life is like taking to drugs. Terrifying, but stimulating. That’s why the initiation rites of any secret society of the Mau Mau description include a murder. Because it’s only the first killing that is difficult. After that it becomes progressively easier and breeds a callousness towards human life and a frightening megalomania. There’s no reason to suppose that your wife’s death will put a stop to whatever ugly business has been going on here, and that is why we have got to find the murderer if we have to screen every African – and every European! – in the Rift. Which reminds me, Em, did the Brandons bring a driver with them when they came over here on Tuesday morning?’
‘Yes. But Samuel has been with them for over twenty years. He would never——’
She was not allowed to finish. ‘Why is it,’ demanded Mr Gilbert bitterly, ‘that none of you, in spite of all you have been through, can be brought to believe that a faithful servant can also be someone who has taken a binding oath to rid the country of all whites?’
He slammed his notebook shut, returned it to his pocket, and rose with a sigh. ‘Well I think that’s about all for the moment, though I’m afraid we’re going to have to interview all your servants and the labour again tomorrow, Em. But Bill Hennessy will be dealing with that. Be gentle with him, won’t you? He tells me that ever since you took a stick to him when you caught him playing toreadors in the bull paddock at the ripe age of ten, he’s been scared stiff of you.’
‘I wish I could believe that,’ said Em bleakly. ‘But I don’t suppose that there is any more truth in it than in your inference that we ourselves shall not be called upon to endure any more of these inquisitions.’
There was the faintest possible suggestion of appeal in her voice, but Mr Gilbert disregarded it. He said: ‘Until we find out who killed Mrs DeBrett, I’m afraid we shall have to go on asking questions. And I cannot believe that any of you would have it otherwise.’
He collected his hat, nodded amiably at them, and left.
7
Em leaned forward in her chair listening to the sound of his retreating footsteps, and a minute later, hearing a car start up and purr away down the dusty drive, she sighed gustily and relaxed.
‘Thank heaven for that! I was afraid his driver would not have arrived and that he would fill in the next half-hour upsetting the servants. I am too old for this sort of thing.’
She turned to look at the French ormolu clock that stood on a lacquer cabinet at the far side of the room, and said: ‘Four o’clock already! I suppose we had luncheon ve
ry late. Will you take tea with us, Drew?’
Mr Stratton declined the invitation, saying that he must get back, and Em heaved herself up out of her chair and accompanied him to the verandah, Victoria and Eden following.
There was someone on the path beyond the jacaranda trees, walking at a pace that suggested urgency, and Eden shaded his eyes with his hand and after a brief inspection announced with a trace of annoyance: ‘It’s Lisa. What do you suppose she wants?’
‘You, I imagine,’ said Em with some acerbity. ‘Go and head her off, Eden. I don’t want to see anyone else today. All I want is tea and peace!’
She turned to Drew with some query relating to a rumoured outbreak of swine fever on a neighbouring estate, and Eden went quickly down the verandah steps, and along the narrow path that led across the garden in the direction of the plumbago hedge and the manager’s bungalow.
Victoria saw the woman break into a little run as he approached her, and reaching him, clutch at his coat sleeve. They were too far away for their voices to be audible above Em’s plangent strictures on the inefficiency of quarantine precautions, but even from this distance it was possible to see from the woman’s gestures and the very movement of her head that she was either excited or upset.
Victoria saw Eden throw a quick look over his shoulder in the direction of the house, and it seemed to her that his face was oddly colourless against the tree shadows. The woman tugged at his sleeve as though she were urging him to walk away with her, and Victoria caught the high-pitched urgency of her voice, pleading or arguing. Then suddenly Eden grasped her arm, and turning about came quickly back to the house, dragging her with him.
Em, immersed in farming shop, was not aware of them until they reached the foot of the verandah steps, and hearing the click of high heels on stone and the jingle of Mrs Markham’s charm bracelets, she turned with a look of undisguised impatience.
‘Well, Lisa? What is it?’
But it was Eden, and not Mrs Markham who replied. There was a white shade about his mouth and his voice was not quite steady: