Murder at the Ashmolean, page 19
‘He was hit over the head with a metal poker. It’s possible his skull may be fractured, but he’s conscious and seems to be alright, except for a terrible headache. It was he who asked me to come and tell you about it.’
‘Which hospital is he in?’
‘He isn’t,’ said Pitt. ‘He’s in a cell at Kemp Hall police station.’
Abigail stared at him. ‘What? Why?’
‘Miss Fenton – Abigail – I’m not supposed to be telling you anything at all!’ said Pitt awkwardly. ‘I’m defying orders from London, for which I could lose my job. But because Daniel asked me to let you know he was alive, and safe, and because I know and like him, I’ve come here to tell you that, so you wouldn’t worry about him.’
‘Of course I’m worried about him!’ burst out Abigail angrily. Then she composed herself. ‘You’re right. I apologise, Inspector. You’re putting yourself at risk by coming to tell me this, and I appreciate that. Please, tell me what you can.’
‘You know he was following Grafton?’
‘I do,’ said Abigail. ‘He believed that Grafton was going to burgle the home of Lord Chessington.’ She looked at Pitt with a firm stare. ‘As I know that Daniel doesn’t carry a gun, I assume that either this Lord Chessington, or one of his people, shot Inspector Grafton.’
‘You’re very astute,’ said Pitt. ‘But officially I can’t tell you.’
‘If Daniel was hit over the head with a metal poker, Lord Chessington and his people must have seen Daniel watching the house after the shooting and erroneously assumed that Daniel was Grafton’s accomplice.’
Pitt gave her a look of helplessness and said, ‘But I haven’t told you any of this.’
‘Not a word,’ said Abigail. ‘Can I see him?’
‘No,’ said Pitt.
‘Why not?’
‘The same orders from London that instruct me not to say anything. He’s being held for questioning.’
‘Who in London has sent these orders? Special Branch?’
‘I’m not allowed to say,’ said Pitt. He hesitated, then said, ‘You can ask me that again.’
‘Special Branch?’ Abigail asked again.
This time, Pitt silently shook his head, then rolled his eyes upwards.
‘So, higher than Special Branch,’ said Abigail.
‘I’ve said nothing,’ said Pitt.
‘No, you haven’t,’ said Abigail. ‘Tomorrow morning I’ll call at Kemp Hall to report my partner as missing. It would be unusual if I didn’t take such an action.’
‘I understand.’ Pitt nodded. ‘No one will be able to give you any information about him. All I’ll be able to do is take a note of your enquiry and promise to look into it.’
This time it was Abigail’s turn to say, ‘I understand.’ She stood up and held out her hand. ‘Thank you for making this visit, Inspector. And I apologise for giving you a hard time. But Daniel is very important to me.’
‘Yes, I think I know that,’ said Pitt, shaking her hand. ‘I’ll see you at Kemp Hall in the morning, where I will unfortunately have to send you away.’
‘And I will go without a fuss,’ Abigail assured him. ‘What time will you be there? I assume, as you’ve been on duty until the small hours …’
‘Ten o’clock,’ said Pitt.
‘I’ll see you at ten,’ said Abigail.
CHAPTER THIRTY
It was half past ten the next morning when Pitt arrived at Daniel’s cell with a mug of tea.
‘Here,’ he said.
‘Thanks,’ said Daniel.
‘How’s your head?’
‘It still hurts if I move it.’
‘Once we get you out of here, we’ll get a proper doctor to examine you.’
Daniel touched the bandage around his head. ‘The one who did this wasn’t a proper doctor?’
‘A locum,’ said Pitt. ‘He was the best we could get at one o’clock in the morning. But he seemed to know what he was doing. And your interrogators have just arrived from London. Two of them.’
‘Special Branch?’
‘Somehow I think not. I get the impression they’re a step up. Their ranks, for example. As well as their names. Commander Smith and Captain Jones.’
Daniel gave a wry smile. ‘Not very imaginative. Mind, they could be their real names. And the ranks suggest either War Office or Secret Intelligence. Either way, it’s the same thing. Are they in uniform?’
‘No. Plain clothes. Dark suits. It looks like they go to the same tailor. And Miss Fenton has just been here. And, before you ask, yes, I did go to see her and told her where you were, and that you were alive, if not well.’
‘You didn’t tell her about the rest of it? The shooting of Grafton?’
‘I didn’t need to. She worked it out while I sat there silently listening to her tell me exactly what happened.’
‘Yes, she’s very clever. Is she still here, waiting in reception?’
‘No, she agreed to leave.’
‘How did you manage to persuade her to do that?’
‘We had an agreement,’ said Pitt. ‘I told her my job was at stake if she caused a fuss.’
‘She must think a lot of you,’ said Daniel. ‘That doesn’t usually stop her.’ He sipped at the tea. ‘When do Commander Smith and Captain Jones see me?’
‘As soon as you’ve finished your tea,’ said Pitt. ‘A word of warning: they don’t look friendly.’
Esther stared at Abigail, her eyes and mouth wide open in shock.
‘Inspector Grafton was shot?!’ she said.
‘Yes,’ said Abigail.
They were sitting in the office at the Ashmolean. Esther had come in to report on her interview the previous afternoon with the Duchess of Charlbury, but instead had been informed by Abigail of the events of the previous night.
‘And killed?!’ exclaimed Esther.
‘Yes,’ said Abigail again, adding, ‘But you can’t use this story. And that’s not just you. No one at any newspaper is allowed to write about it.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it involves something secret to do with the government.’
‘And Mr Wilson …?’
‘Is still being held at Kemp Hall police station.’
‘They surely don’t think he killed Inspector Grafton!’
‘Inspector Pitt says some very important officials are coming down from London to question him about what happened.’
‘What did happen?’
‘Until I talk to Daniel, I won’t know myself.’
‘They won’t let you talk to him?’
‘No.’
‘But isn’t that against the law? I thought all people locked up could receive a visit from a friend or relative.’
‘The people who have given these instructions about secrecy are the people who make the laws.’
‘But—’
Abigail held up her hand. ‘It’s no use speculating, Esther. All I know for certain is that Inspector Grafton was shot and killed last night, and Daniel was assaulted and taken to the police station where he was locked up and has been ever since.’
‘Was he hurt?’
‘I understand he received a blow to the head.’
‘Who shot Inspector Grafton?’
‘Again, I’m not sure,’ said Abigail. ‘I have my opinion, but I’m not prepared to speculate until we know for sure.’
‘When will that be?’
‘When Daniel is released.’
‘When will that be?’ she repeated.
‘I don’t know. In fact, there is a danger he may not be released. That all depends on these people from London.’
‘Who are they?’
‘I wasn’t allowed to know. The main thing is, and I stress again, this is not a story for publication. Now, how did you get on with the duchess?’
‘She was horrible!’ said Esther. ‘I hope it’s her! She was sneery about everything. She’s a dreadful woman.’
‘Did she talk about the Shakespeare play?’
‘No,’ admitted Esther unhappily. ‘I tried to lead the conversation around to writers and poets the duke’s family might have known, but she’s got no interest in anything literary. The only things she’s interested in are hunting and shooting.’
‘Was there any sign of the duke?’
‘No. It seems he goes away for weeks at a time. Not that she seems bothered.’ She gave a secretive smile. ‘There was a handsome young stable groom she seemed fond of.’
‘How could you tell?’ asked Abigail, intrigued.
‘It was nothing either of them said or did, it was just a feeling I got between them,’ admitted Esther. ‘But it may have been because I didn’t like her and wanted to find some nasty secret about her.’ She hesitated, then asked tentatively, ‘What’s our next move?’
‘For you, I suggest you see if you can arrange your interview with Baroness Whichford. For me’ – she sighed – ‘I’m going to wait until Daniel’s released, and then we’ll see. We were going to start searching for a man called Josiah Goddard.’
‘Josiah Goddard?’ repeated Esther. ‘The artist?’
‘That might be a bit overstating it,’ said Abigail, surprised at Esther recognising the name. ‘He says he’s a restorer.’
‘Yes, that’s him,’ said Esther.
‘You know him?’ asked Abigail, intrigued.
‘I know of him,’ explained Esther. ‘I did an article on his sister, Jenny, who does wonderful cross-stitch, and she told me she came from an artistic family and that her brother was an artist. She said his name was Josiah Goddard.’
‘Where would we find this Jenny Goddard?’ asked Abigail.
‘Jenny Woodman,’ said Esther. ‘She’s married to a farmer. They live just outside Oxford near a village called Stanton St John.’
Pitt escorted Daniel along a corridor to an interview room. He opened the door and gestured Daniel in. Two grim-faced men in identical dark suits sat side by side at a table. An open notebook was in front of the younger of the two. The older man, who Daniel guessed must be Commander Smith, gestured at the empty chair opposite them on the other side of the table.
‘Sit,’ he said.
Daniel sat. Pitt moved to stand at the wall.
‘Thank you, Inspector. There’s no need for you to stay,’ said Smith.
Pitt frowned.
‘This is our police station,’ he said. ‘We are responsible for the people in our charge.’
‘And your superintendent has seen our credentials,’ said Smith curtly. ‘If we need you, we’ll call.’
Pitt hesitated, then nodded and left. The two men fixed their gaze on Daniel. The younger man, who Daniel guessed to be Captain Jones, took a pencil from his pocket and poised it over the open notebook in front of him.
‘Your name is Daniel Wilson?’ said Smith.
‘It is,’ confirmed Daniel.
‘Until two years ago you were a detective inspector with the Metropolitan Police at Scotland Yard.’
‘I was,’ said Daniel.
‘Why did you leave?’
‘Is this relevant?’ asked Daniel.
‘Yes,’ said Smith curtly, and looked at Daniel and waited.
‘Possibly it was prompted by Inspector Abberline retiring to become a private enquiry agent. It made me think I could do the same.’
‘Not because you have a problem with authority?’
I wonder who you’ve been talking to, thought Daniel. Aloud, he said, ‘No.’
‘But you do have a problem with authority,’ insisted Smith. ‘Your superiors reported you for insubordination.’
‘A few of my superiors may have done, but Inspector Abberline never did, as far as I know,’ Daniel countered.
‘Do you agree that you were insubordinate to some of your superiors?’ Smith pressed.
‘In their opinion,’ said Daniel. ‘I do not agree I was being insubordinate. Sometimes I questioned a decision if I felt it was the wrong one. But I always carried out orders.’
‘In many cases with reluctance and doing your best to continue on your own path,’ said Smith.
‘Is there a point to this line of questioning?’ asked Daniel. ‘I thought we were here to discuss what happened to Inspector Grafton.’
Smith and Jones exchanged the briefest of looks, then Smith said, ‘We are just trying to establish how strong your anti-establishment feelings are.’
‘I have no anti-establishment feelings,’ said Daniel.
‘Your record indicates the opposite.’
‘Any such comments on my record were written by some people who didn’t like me and the fact that sometimes I questioned a decision.’
At this, Jones made a note in his notebook.
‘How well did you know Lord Chessington?’ asked Smith.
‘Not at all,’ replied Daniel. ‘I’d never met nor seen the man before last night. And even last night I only saw him in silhouette and I had no idea who he was.’
‘What were you doing with Inspector Grafton going to Lord Chessington’s house last night?’
‘I didn’t go with Inspector Grafton to his house.’
‘Then why were you there?’
‘I followed the inspector.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I was curious to find out what he was up to. I’m sure you’re aware that I’ve been hired by the Ashmolean Museum to look into the death of Mr Gavin Everett. Apparently, Inspector Grafton was here on the same mission. To that end, he had burgled my hotel room, and also Mr Everett’s lodgings, in his search for information. I was curious to see who he would burgle next.’
‘Had you heard the name Lord Chessington before last night?’ asked Jones, speaking for the first time.
Daniel paused. This was the crunch. If he said no, he was sure they would then question Abigail, and he didn’t want her falling into their clutches. But if he said yes, then he’d have to do it without naming Esther Maris and putting her at risk.
‘Well?’ pressed Smith.
‘Yes,’ said Daniel. ‘I’d heard the name just a few days before.’
‘How?’ asked Smith. ‘In what context?’
‘I went to the offices of the Oxford Messenger to try and see if I could find out any information on Everett, and I happened to see Inspector Grafton going into the editor’s office. So, I eavesdropped.’
‘Not a very gentlemanly thing to do,’ said Jones.
‘It’s one of the things detectives do to gather information,’ said Daniel. ‘I understand that Special Branch are very good at it. As are the Secret Service.’
This brought a scowl from Smith, who snapped, ‘What did you hear?’
Daniel cast his mind back to Esther reporting the conversation between Grafton and Mr Pinker that she’d overheard. ‘Inspector Grafton asked Mr Pinker, that’s the editor of the Messenger, about possible Boer sympathisers in the Oxford area. Mr Pinker said he knew of no such people. When Inspector Grafton pressed him for the names of local people with connections to South Africa, including the Boer colonies of the Transvaal and the Orange Free State, Mr Pinker told him that Lord Chessington had business interests in the Transvaal and was a major partner in some gold mines there with some Transvaal businessmen.’
Smith and Jones waited for more. When none was forthcoming, Smith demanded, ‘And?’
‘And, nothing.’ Daniel shrugged. ‘That was the extent of their conversation. Then Grafton left the editor’s office.’
‘Did Grafton see you?’
‘No,’ said Daniel. ‘When I heard the door opening, I took evasive action.’ He looked at them both and added, ‘You can check with Mr Pinker at the Oxford Messenger about what was said.’
‘Did you see Inspector Grafton shot?’ asked Jones.
‘No,’ said Daniel. ‘I was waiting outside the house for him to reappear.’
‘Why?’
‘I’d decided to ask him what he was up to. I was of the opinion that we could both benefit if we shared information.’
‘Had you suggested that to the inspector before?’
Daniel gave a wry smile. ‘The inspector had made it perfectly clear that he had no interest in working with me. He’d also tried to have me stopped from investigating Everett’s death. My hope was that when he discovered that I was aware of his activities, he might decide it would be beneficial for us to pool our resources.’
‘Go back to his being shot,’ said Smith. ‘You said you didn’t see it.’
‘No,’ said Daniel. ‘I heard a gunshot from inside the house. Then the door opened, and Inspector Grafton came out. He seemed to be in distress. He stumbled, and then fell down the stone steps at the front of the house and landed on the pavement. I ran to him to see if I could help him.’
‘Was he conscious?’
‘No. I checked his breathing and realised that he was dead. He’d just made it out of the house before dying.’
‘So, he didn’t say anything?’
‘No,’ said Daniel. ‘Not a word.’
‘And then?’
‘Then this man appeared in the doorway. He was holding a gun. He called these two other men from inside the house and shouted, “There’s his accomplice!”, pointing at me. I rose to my feet and started to explain who I was, but before I was able to say anything, the two men attacked me and knocked me unconscious. The next thing I remember is waking up here in a police cell.’
Smith and Jones studied Daniel in silence for a few moments, then Smith asked, ‘Have your investigations into Mr Everett’s death suggested any motive for it?’
‘So, we are ruling out suicide?’ said Daniel with an amused smile. Neither of the men smiled back at him. ‘One or two possibilities have arisen,’ Daniel continued. ‘One is that Everett was involved in the faking of ancient artefacts and selling the originals to private collectors. This may have resulted in anger from the other criminals he was involved with doing this. Another is that he was blackmailing a certain man over an alleged rape.’
‘Who is this man?’
‘His name’s Piers Stevens. He’s currently being hunted on a charge of attempted murder after he took a shot at me when I confronted him. Inspector Pitt has the details.’
‘At any time during your investigations, did the suggestion arise that South Africans could be involved in his death? Particularly Boers?’
