A Fête Worse Than Death Read Online Free PDF Page A

heard as much at a police dinner. He was sure the name was Haldean.
    â€˜Major Haldean,’ he asked. ‘I don’t suppose you write books, do you?’
    Haldean gave a smile in which shyness was once again uppermost. ‘Books and short stories, yes. It’s mainly short stories, but some of those have been collected into books. Er . . . Have you come across them?’
    â€˜I have indeed,’ said Ashley enthusiastically. ‘I thoroughly enjoyed them. I’ll tell you something else, too, sir. You managed to get the police more or less right, which is a thing that most detective stories never seem to bother about.’
    Haldean laughed. ‘That’s my pal Rackham for you. Inspector Rackham of Scotland Yard. He tells me where I’m going wrong. The trouble is, you can’t get it completely right, otherwise it doesn’t work as a story.’ He paused, and Ashley heard the unspoken question. ‘The thing about stories is that the police are happy to welcome an amateur. I don’t know if they always would in real life.’
    Ashley stroked his chin. ‘I suppose it depends who the amateur is.’ He was probing now. ‘Didn’t you get involved with a case yourself?’
    Gregory Rivers grinned. ‘Your secret’s out, Jack.’ He looked at Ashley. ‘If you know about that, Superintendent, I wish you’d tell us. We can’t get a thing out of this human oyster apart from the fact it happened.’
    â€˜It was confidential,’ muttered Haldean.
    â€˜So you tell us,’ retorted Rivers. He shot a sideways glance at Haldean. ‘However, I don’t think I’m breaking any confidences when I tell you old Jack’s just dying to have a crack at working out what went on this afternoon.’
    The ball was firmly at Ashley’s feet. ‘I’ve got your statement, of course, Major,’ he began cautiously, then caught the eager, rather anxious expression on Haldean’s face. He gave the ball a careful nudge. ‘What do you think about the murder, then? After all, you were an eyewitness.’
    Haldean raised an eyebrow. ‘So it was murder. I wondered if it was.’
    â€˜
Murder?
’ echoed Lady Rivers. ‘But how can it have been? Are you sure?’
    Ashley nodded his head, taking in the reactions of the people in the room. Interest – curiosity – and then he realized that Marguerite Vayle was looking at him intensely. Fear? Maybe. However, she was only a bit of a kid . . .
    Sir Philip stared at him. ‘Murder? Damn me.’ He glanced at his son. ‘You said nothing about the feller being murdered. How can he have been murdered?’
    â€˜I’m afraid there’s no doubt about it,’ said Ashley. ‘He was shot through the head, you see, and we can’t find the gun anywhere. Believe me, we looked for it. I’d like to see the gun, I must say. It can only be a tiny thing. The bullet hole was very small and there obviously wasn’t much wallop behind it. There was no exit wound.’
    Haldean nodded knowledgeably. ‘That’ll be a .22. They can be very nasty weapons. The bullet lacks the force to get out of the other side of the head and ricochets around inside the skull. It does an awful lot of damage.’
    â€˜Jack!’ said his aunt with a warning glance at Marguerite. ‘Please don’t. You’ll give us all nightmares.’
    â€˜No he won’t,’ said Isabelle cheerfully, taking Marguerite’s hand. ‘We’re all as tough as old boots nowadays and, after all, it’s not as if we knew him, is it? You’re all right, aren’t you, Maggie?’
    â€˜I . . . I . . .’ began Marguerite Vayle, then stopped. ‘Yes, of course it’s all right. Aunt Alice, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go to my room now.’
    â€˜Just as you like, dear,’ agreed Lady Rivers.
    The door shut behind her and