The Clocks

‘This is an extraordinary business, Miss Pebmarsh,’ he said. ‘I’d like to run over the main points with you and see if I’ve got it right. Correct me if I am wrong. You expected no visitors today, you’ve made no inquiries re insurance of any kind and you have received no letter from anyone stating that a representative of an insurance company was going to call upon you today. Is that correct?’

‘Quite correct.’

‘You did not need the services of a shorthand typist or stenographer and you did not ring up the Cavendish Bureau or request that one should be here at three o’clock.’

‘That again is correct.’

‘When you left the house at approximately 1.30, there were in this room only two clocks, the cuckoo clock and the grandfather clock. No others.’

About to reply, Miss Pebmarsh checked herself.

‘If I am to be absolutely accurate, I could not swear to that statement. Not having my sight I would not notice the absence or presence of anything not usually in the room. That is to say, the last time I can be sure of the contents of this room was when I dusted it early this morning. Everything then was in its place. I usually do this room myself as cleaning women are apt to be careless with ornaments.’

‘Did you leave the house at all this morning?’

‘Yes. I went at ten o’clock as usual to the Aaronberg Institute. I have classes there until twelve-fifteen. I returned here at about quarter to one, made myself some scrambled eggs in the kitchen and a cup of tea and went out again, as I have said, at half past one. I ate my meal in the kitchen, by the way, and did not come into this room.’

‘I see,’ said Hardcastle. ‘So while you can say definitely that at ten o’clock this morning there were no superfluous clocks here, they could possibly have been introduced some time during the morning.’

‘As to that you would have to ask my cleaning woman, Mrs Curtin. She comes here about ten and usually leaves about twelve o’clock. She lives at 17, Dipper Street.’

‘Thank you, Miss Pebmarsh. Now we are left with these following facts and this is where I want you to give me any ideas or suggestions that occur to you. At some time during today four clocks were brought here. The hands of these four clocks were set at thirteen minutes past four. Now does that time suggest anything to you?’

‘Thirteen minutes past four.’ Miss Pebmarsh shook her head. ‘Nothing at all.’

‘Now we pass from the clocks to the dead man. It seems unlikely that he would have been let in by your cleaning woman and left in the house by her unless you had told her you were expecting him, but that we can learn from her. He came here presumably to see you for some reason, either a business one or a private one. Between one-thirty and two-forty-five he was stabbed and killed. If he came here by appointment, you say you know nothing of it. Presumably he was connected with insurance—but there again you cannot help us. The door was unlocked so he could have come in and sat down to wait for you—but why?’

‘The whole thing’s daft,’ said Miss Pebmarsh impatiently. ‘So you think that this—what’s-his-name Curry—brought those clocks with him?’

‘There’s no sign of a container anywhere,’ said Hardcastle. ‘He could hardly have brought four clocks in his pockets. Now Miss Pebmarsh, think very carefully. Is there any association in your mind, any suggestion you could possibly make about anything to do with clocks, or if not with clocks, say with time. 4.13. Thirteen minutes past four?’

She shook her head.

‘I’ve been trying to say to myself that it is the work of a lunatic or that somebody came to the wrong house. But even that doesn’t really explain anything. No, Inspector, I can’t help you.’

A young constable looked in. Hardcastle went to join him in the hall and from there went down to the gate. He spoke for a few minutes to the men.

‘You can take the young lady home now,’ he said, ‘14, Palmerston Road is the address.’

He went back and into the dining-room. Through the open door to the kitchen he could hear Miss Pebmarsh busy at the sink. He stood in the doorway.

‘I shall want to take those clocks, Miss Pebmarsh. I’ll leave you a receipt for them.’

‘That will be quite all right, Inspector—they don’t belong to me—’

Hardcastle turned to Sheila Webb.

‘You can go home now, Miss Webb. The police car will take you.’

Sheila and Colin rose.

‘Just see her into the car, will you, Colin?’ said Hardcastle as he pulled a chair to the table and started to scribble a receipt.

Colin and Sheila went out and started down the path. Sheila paused suddenly.

‘My gloves—I left them—’

‘I’ll get them.’

‘No—I know just where I put them. I don’t mind now—now that they’ve taken it away.’

She ran back and rejoined him a moment or two later.

‘I’m sorry I was so silly—before.’

‘Anybody would have been,’ said Colin.

Hardcastle joined them as Sheila entered the car. Then, as it drove away, he turned to the young constable.

‘I want those clocks in the sitting-room packed up carefully—all except the cuckoo clock on the wall and the big grandfather clock.’

He gave a few more directions and then turned to his friend.

‘I’m going places. Want to come?’

‘Suits me,’ said Colin.

CHAPTER 4 (#u83b3c6de-0ee7-520d-9037-12f4f66d2525)

Colin Lamb’s Narrative

‘Where do we go?’ I asked Dick Hardcastle.

He spoke to the driver.

‘Cavendish Secretarial Bureau. It’s on Palace Street, up towards the Esplanade on the right.’

‘Yes, sir.’

The car drew away. There was quite a little crowd by now, staring with fascinated interest. The orange cat was still sitting on the gate post of Diana Lodge next door. He was no longer washing his face but was sitting up very straight, lashing his tail slightly, and gazing over the heads of the crowd with that complete disdain for the human race that is the special prerogative of cats and camels.

‘The Secretarial Bureau, and then the cleaning woman, in that order,’ said Hardcastle, ‘because the time is getting on.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘After four o’clock.’ He paused before adding, ‘Rather an attractive girl?’

‘Quite,’ I said.

He cast an amused look in my direction.

‘But she told a very remarkable story. The sooner it’s checked up on, the better.’