Death of a Serpent (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 8) Read online

  ​‘Religious?’

  ​‘Yes, in a manner of speaking. They believe that to truly know God you have to live as close as possible to a state of nature, like Adam and Eve before the Fall. Not an unattractive idea, I suppose.’

  ​Felix smiled. ‘I seem to remember those two had trouble with the landlord. The children only came later.’

  ​‘That’s unlikely to happen this time,’ said Galbraith dryly. ‘They own the freehold.’

  ​‘What sort of class are they?’

  ​‘Mixed, I think, though I scarcely know them. I take people as I find them, don’t you?’

  ​‘Yes I do. Did you approve of this friendship of Raymond’s?’

  ​‘With Alice? Yes, we like her. We’d nothing against any of them before this. She’s a nice girl — sensible, well-spoken and plays a decent game of tennis. As far as we were aware, they were just friends. Anything more than that can only have been on Raymond’s part, I fancy, because she suddenly produced this mysterious fiancé. He’s supposed to be off to Oxford this autumn anyway. Raymond, I mean.’ He paused. ‘You may think I’m very relaxed about this, Chief Inspector, but that’s not the case; I’m most concerned. I’m glad in a way his mother isn’t here to see it; she would have been terrified for him. I know any father would say this, and that boys do all sorts of things their parents don’t know about, but I’ve questioned him pretty closely and I’m sure in my own mind he had nothing to do with it.’

  ​Nodding sympathetically Felix waited for a moment to let Rattigan catch up with his notes. ‘Do you happen to know why these people came to live here, particularly?’

  ​‘Yes, that’s easily answered. They needed somewhere they could afford and the land was very cheap, the house effectively free.’

  ​‘Why is that?’

  ​The Colonel smiled. ‘Have your heard of the problems with the cliffs hereabouts?’

  ​‘Yes, Sergeant Diffey took us along the beach. Very unstable, apparently.’

  ​‘Yes they are. The lower parts consist of clay, impermeable to water. Heavy rain causes the upper layers to gradually slide downhill on the wet clay, taking with them any buildings. Eden House already suffers from movement and cracking and will eventually go over the edge. It is, of course, quite worthless.’

  ​‘How soon?’

  ​‘Impossible to say. Could be five years or fifty. There could even be a catastrophic slide tomorrow; there have been a few in the past. They’ve had a good run. If the seller had realised they’d get this long out of it he might have asked for more.’

  ​‘How far is it from the cliff edge now?’

  ​‘Seventy yards or so, although that’s not to the precipice you see from the beach. The higher parts of the cliffs form a relatively gentle slope, very tumbled and overgrown and threaded with deep cracks, like after an earthquake. That’s due to the ground moving over the clay, of course. Little by little it’s lost.’ He crossed the room to the garden door. ‘Raymond, will you come here please?’

  Chapter Three

  ​

  Raymond Galbraith proved to be a good-looking lad: tall, thin, and fair-haired like his father. With him came his companion on the lawn, a smiling, dark-haired woman in perhaps her mid forties.

  ​‘Meet my family,’ said the Colonel, with evident pride, ‘My son Raymond and my wife Jane.’

  ​‘Charles, I’m taking Neville for a walk,’ said Jane, having established that their visitors were being looked after. ‘We’re going to look at Eden House.’

  ​‘Not too closely, I hope.’

  ​‘No, only from a distance. That’s all right isn’t it?’

  ​They watched the two of them stroll away downhill, Sir Neville already in full flow and waving his arms to illustrate a point.

  ​‘Brave woman,’ smiled the Colonel.

  ​‘Is that the place one can see through the trees?’ said Felix.

  ​‘Yes, that’s right. We’re almost neighbours; though we’re not on the clay here, I’m glad to say. There are a couple of cottages and then their land starts. They have about a hundred acres I think. I’ll leave you to it, shall I? Kick him out when you’ve done with him.’

  ​‘Er, shall we sit down?’ asked Raymond, looking a little pink.

  ​‘Perhaps you won’t mind if Sergeant Rattigan sits at the desk to take his notes while I give you the third degree,’ said Felix. ‘We have your name and address. May I ask your age?’

  ​‘Eighteen, sir. Nineteen in September.’

  ​‘Right. Now what I want from you of course is your fullest possible account of the night of Mr Dutton’s death, and the people involved. And I may ask more general questions as we go. First of all, why were you there? I think your father said there was a party.’

  ​‘Yes there was, sir. It was Sister Gertrude’s birthday, Alice’s grandmother. She’s the sort of matriarch of the commune, so to say, and it was a special one as she’s seventy. Father has told you about the commune, I expect.’

  ​‘Yes he has. Is that because she’s the eldest?’

  ​‘She’s the widow of the founder. There are a few older ones.’​

  ​‘I see. Is that what they call each other — Brother and Sister?’

  ​‘Yes, though the younger ones don’t seem to bother so much, not amongst themselves anyway.’

  ​‘And does Sister Gertrude have any influence over the other brethren?’

  ​Raymond considered this. ‘She doesn’t order them about or anything like that, they’re all supposed to be equal, but they do seem to defer to her quite a bit. Her daughters and grandchildren especially.’

  ​‘Serious are they, about their religion?’

  ​‘Some certainly are. Sister Gertrude and family seem pretty relaxed about it really, apart from the homespun clothing, but many of them won’t allow anything they wouldn’t have had in the biblical Eden and it’s all supposed to come from one’s own efforts. If they do buy something, it has to be paid for from selling their own produce, but even that’s frowned upon.’

  ​‘And are Sister Gertrude’s daughters married? One of them is, presumably.’

  ​‘Yes, that’s Mary, Alice’s mother. Mary and Brian Stickland.’

  ​‘Alice is the one you were interested in?’

  ​Raymond blushed again. ‘Yes,’ he said shortly.

  ​‘Were you very fond of her?’

  ​‘Yes I was.’

  ​‘Are you still?’

  ​‘It’s a bit difficult to be interested in someone who wanted to marry someone else,’ said Raymond, ‘especially if she thinks you murdered him.’ A thought seemed to strike him. ‘I suppose she must be pretty upset at the moment. I was pretty upset when my mother died. Anyway . . .’ he added, then stopped.

  ​‘Anyway?’

  ​‘No, skip that.’

  ​‘All right. Did Alice actually accuse you of murdering her fiancé?’

  ​‘I don’t know. I can’t think why she would, or any of them, come to that. I was thinking of going down there the next day to find out a bit more about this engagement but then Sergeant Diffey arrived and arrested me, so of course I couldn’t. It appears that Clarice Dutton, Joe Dutton’s mother, told Diffey she saw Dutton leave the house after the party and that she saw me follow him, but I wasn’t, I was just leaving to go home. I can see how she might have thought I was following him, but it was just coincidence. She’s never liked me, which doesn’t help.’

  ​‘How do you know she doesn’t like you?’

  ​‘She just doesn’t. I can tell.’

  ​‘So when she saw you, you were indeed going home?’

  ​Raymond hesitated. ‘Not quite, no. I’d intended to, but I was pretty fed up about Alice, so I thought I might go for a walk first. It was a moonlit night so I could see all right. I was trying to decide where to go when I saw my friend Clive coming – he was at the party too – so we walked down to the Mole together and hung about for a bit and then he went home
and I came back here.’

  ​‘What were you doing when you were hanging about?’

  ​‘Nothing really. Throwing stones at the sea and chatting.’

  ​‘About the perfidious Alice no doubt?’

  ​Raymond smiled ruefully. ‘Mostly, I suppose.’

  ​‘Anyone see or hear you?’

  ​‘I don’t know. No-one has said so. They may have done.’

  ​‘What time did you get back here?’

  ​‘It was about one-thirty when I got to my room. Elsie heard me come in; she’s our second maid.’

  ​‘Did you see where Dutton went? What direction?’

  ​‘I didn’t see him at all! I didn’t even see him leave the house. Sister Mary was playing the piano so we were all gathered round it. She’s quite good. When she’d finished I said goodbye and left. As far as I was concerned, I was alone.’

  ​‘Did your hostess say anything to you, as you left?’

  ​‘Not Sister Gertrude, no. I don’t think she was there then. Nor were Alice and Dutton, come to that. Sister Mary said goodnight and that she was sorry. She meant about Dutton turning up I think. It might be better, sir, if I were to begin at the beginning.’

  ​‘All right. Who was at the party?’

  ​Raymond blew out his cheeks, suggesting this was a tall order. ‘Twenty or more I should think, plus children. We all dined at one long table in front of the house. They mostly take their meals together and eat outside when it’s warm enough. There’s a big veranda there for when it rains. Do you want a list?’

  ​‘If you’d be so kind.’

  ​‘All right, I’ll start with the Truscotts. I’ll leave out the Sister and Brother business to make it easier. First there’s Gertrude Truscott, who is Alice’s grandma, whose birthday it was. Arthur, her husband, is dead. He died years ago. The commune was his idea. Then come her daughters Mary and Sophie. I think Mary is about forty and Sophie is thirty-four. I know that because I’ve been to her party too. They make a big thing of birthdays but they don’t celebrate Christmas. Mary is married to Brian Stickland. They have Alice, who is nineteen and Caroline who is seventeen and twins named Seth and Zilla, whom you can ignore as they’re only seven. Sophie, never married so she’s Sophie Truscott. She suffers from her nerves and we don’t see her much. Then there’s Clarice Dutton who I should think is fifty or so. Her husband Harry just wandered off apparently, twenty years ago. No-one knows if he’s dead or alive. Joe was their son. I was sort of aware that she had one but I never thought much about it until he turned up. He’d have lived in the same house as Alice, of course, so I suppose they were childhood friends.’

  ​‘Maybe even childhood sweethearts?’ suggested Felix.

  ​‘I suppose so,’ said Raymond grudgingly. ‘Then there are John and Kezia and Anan and Dinah and Azal and Abital and Lamech and Hushim and a horde of children. It’s the ones that were born in Eden that tend to have old testament names and they aren’t very easy to remember. Sometimes they give themselves one. I might have got some of them wrong or mixed up. I don’t know their surnames, I’m afraid, or who belongs to whom. There are also people who don’t mix with the others so weren’t at the party. I’m not sure how many there are of them. They call themselves Adamites. The rest are either Edenites or Strict Edenites and they do squabble a bit. I suppose it’s like the Church of England and Methodists and so on. The Stricts, as they call them, are mostly rather severe, unsmiling people and not very friendly. Not to me and Clive anyway. They refuse to buy anything from outside the commune unless it’s something essential like medicines and get shirty when anyone else does, or don’t put their money into the common purse. The girls – Alice and Caroline, I mean – don’t like them very much because they lecture one so. Clarice Dutton is a Strict too, which is perhaps why her son and husband cleared off. The Adamites are even worse apparently. They try to live exactly like Adam and Eve might have done. You sometimes catch sight of them wandering about in animal skins. I don’t know their names. Alice says they smell.’

  ​‘And what particular sect are the Truscotts?’

  Raymond considered. ‘I don’t know really. I suppose they’re just Edenites. They don’t seem to mind buying stuff if they need it. In fact, they live pretty well, as far as I can see.

  ​‘Then there’s an old couple, Archie and Agnes. I think they might be brother and sister. They’re about Gertrude’s age, I suppose, or older. They seem to do a lot of the cooking and cleaning, almost like servants. They’re rather small and funny looking. I don’t think they’re quite right. Then there’s Rabbit George. He’s called that because he breeds and traps them. They seem to eat a lot of rabbit and wear it too. I don’t know what sort of “ite” he is but he’s rather fun, always joking and laughing. He looks like Father Christmas, with a long, white beard, and is very old, probably the oldest. None of the men shave, of course, or cut their hair, because they’ve nothing to shave with except bits of flint. They’re not allowed metal, you see, because they didn’t have it in Eden. I don’t think I’ve missed anyone.’

  ​‘And what do you think of these people?’ asked Felix. 'Was it just Alice that was the draw or do you have some sympathy with their philosophy?’

  ​Raymond smiled wryly. It was just Alice. I used to think they were potty, but a nice sort of potty, if you know what I mean. The Truscotts anyway. Now I don’t know what to think.’

  ​‘I make that twenty adults at the party, if you count yourself and the older girls,’ said Rattigan, consulting his notes.

  ​‘That’s about right,’ said Raymond. I can’t tell you how many children were there because they’re completely undisciplined and won’t sit still. There must be a dozen at least. They don’t go to proper school; they’re educated by the commune. They have a school room and Alice and Caroline teach them. They’re both quite clever, especially Caroline.’

  ​‘What time did you arrive?’

  ​‘Clive and I arrived at about four. We thought we might play tennis for a while – there’s quite a decent court there – but the girls were busy preparing the feast, so we knocked a ball about a bit and then pitched in and helped.’

  ​‘Is Clive interested in either of the girls?’

  ​‘No, they’re his cousins. Brian and Mary Stickland are his aunt and uncle. He likes them though. Everyone likes Alice and Caroline.’

  ​‘Any other guests?’

  ​‘Only Timothy Reid, the fellow I got into a fight with.’ He glanced at Rattigan. ‘So that makes twenty-one. Except it wasn’t really a fight, more of a scuffle.’

  ​‘Is he a friend of yours?’

  ​‘Never seen him before. He lives over at Chartington. He seems to think he’s better than we are because he’s a Hon. There were fellows at school like that. I don’t know why he was there really. He left quite early. His chauffeur came and picked him up. I suppose if he hadn’t wanted to go yet he’d have told him to wait but he just jumped in the car and cleared off. His father is Viscount Chartington.’

  ​‘They keep rather elevated company, don’t they, these people?’

  ​‘Only the Truscotts. I think Sister Gertrude’s husband was a Hon. too, but they don’t talk about it, probably because they’re all supposed to be equal. Except they’re not, not really. I don’t think so anyway.’

  ​‘What do the Truscotts do, as their contribution? Do they garden like the others?’

  ​‘Not really. Arty things. Mary paints and Brian makes pots. Sophie weaves baskets. They’ve got studios in the grounds and sell their work to the grockles. It’s what they call holiday-makers here’ ‘So I understand. Any good — the art?’

  ​‘They’re primitivists. I think that’s the word. I don’t like it much and Dad laughs at it. Jane says he’s a Philistine and has bought some of it. Brian’s pots are funny shaped, I think on purpose. He makes all the commune’s crockery too, but that’s just ordinary The baskets are quite nice though. I think that’s where most of the com
mune’s money comes from, plus the eggs and poultry. Oh, and the honey. The village shops take them.’

  ​‘What about Sister Gertrude?’

  ​‘She runs the clothing side. They spin and weave and the children help with the sewing. All done by hand, of course. I suppose the weaving machines don’t count, except they’re made of wood, I think. They’ve got their own sheep, so someone has to shear and shepherd them. I’m not sure who does that.’

  ​‘And what do they shear them with if they use no metal — pull it out by the roots?’

  ​Raymond smiled. ‘Yes, sir, they do! It’s called rooing and they’ve got special sheep for it. Everything seems to be done the hard way there and everyone works, even the little ones. They look after the hens and do weeding and so on.’

  ​‘Is it a happy community?’

  ​‘I suppose so.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘Well, I don’t know really. Some of them must be. The girls moan about it sometimes and say they’re looking forward to leaving.’

  ​Felix nodded thoughtfully. ‘So. The groaning table is prepared and the guests have foregathered. Formal dress?’

  ​‘Heavens no! Flannels and no tie, Homespun for everyone else.’

  ​‘And the conversation?’

  ​‘Just like anyone’s really — news and gossip, with everyone talking at once. No arguments or anything, that I noticed. There was one thing a bit queer. I was sitting next to Clive, who was next to Reid. No, wait. Before that we heard a car in the lane and Alice jumped up and ran out to meet it. At least, I suppose that’s where she went. She was gone for quite a while and then she came out of the house with this Dutton fellow and announced they were engaged! You could have knocked me over with a feather. She must have brought him in the back way I suppose. He just smiled and said hello and shook a few hands, not mine, and then they went back inside. That’s literally the only time I ever saw him, so I couldn’t have murdered him if I’d wanted to.’

  ​Felix nodded and glanced at Rattigan. ‘I see. And what was the queer thing?’

  ​‘Yes, that was strange. I get on quite well with Mary. I like her and I think she likes me. Well, I thought she did. Anyway she started talking about how she’d married Brian when she was just our age and she expected we’d all be married soon as well and that I was Alice’s favourite – which pleased me, obviously – so if anyone else wanted her they’d best look to their laurels. I suppose it was to push me a bit, not that I needed pushing, but she just went on and on, and it got rather embarrassing. She’s never done it before.’