Unlocked room mystery

Unlocked room mystery

"Here's something for us, " said Francis Gulliver, to his brother, the
famous detective, who was stretched out and bored on the leather
armchair.

Damon expressed little interest, but this wasn't sufficient to put
Francis off. It never was. Why did Damon expose himself to his
brother's company? It would have been simple enough to avoid Francis,
who was confined by his acute agoraphobia to his study, but still Damon
sought him out.

"Rather unorthodox, " said Francis, "A murder committed in a house,
which could only have been committed by one of the visitors, but could
easily have been committed by any one of them. "

Damon reached for the sports pages of the newspaper, all he could cope
with at this hour of the day, but Francis moved it slightly beyond his
grasp.

"We have dealt with occasional locked-room mysteries, " Francis
continued in his elegant manner, "Impossible crimes, that it seemed no
criminal could have accomplished. But this, is something different
altogether. A POSSIBLE crime. One where the sheer possibility of it
points towards perfection. One that any one of the players could easily
have committed, and no evidence to point in one direction more than any
other. "

Despite Damon's most ardent wishes, Francis went on to set out the
facts of the case that he had gleaned from the newspaper reports.

* * *

The mystery occurred in a small town called Lowry, just a few miles
away from Bakewell in the peak district. The town is relatively
affluent, having been repopulated by commuters seeking the country air
during their time off.

A doctor, Nigel Price, and his school teacher wife, Elaine moved into
the town. They previously lived in London, but downscaled their income
to enjoy life more in the country. Both were sophisticated people,
intelligent and with a love of culture. There was plenty of talk in
Lowry that there was something not altogether savoury in their
background.

In any event, after a few months in Lowry, both Nigel and his wife
found the desire to get to know other people, make some friends. They
established a "Reading Group" with people willing to socialise and
discuss fiction over a few glasses of wine. The group met on a
fortnightly basis, meetings being held at the home of one of the
members.

Some people joined and then dropped off in their attendance, whether
because they didn't like the company or that the books were not to
their taste, it is hard to say.

In any event, the membership of the group settled to some six people.
Nigel and Elaine, of course as founder members. Lorraine Davies, who
worked at the same school as Elaine and had rather a lonely life. April
Fisher, who worked in local government and was something of a social
climber by most accounts, and her boyfriend Simon French, a rather
morose fellow, but wholly devoted to April. And finally Richard
Laidlaw, a local business-man who fancied himself both as an
intellectual and a romancer of women.

On the morning of the twelfth, the day fixed for the reading group to
meet at Nigel and Elaine's house, Nigel telephoned each member of the
group to inform them that Elaine was suffering from flu and would not
be present at the meeting. He advised each member that Elaine would be
in bed throughout the meeting.

At the appointed hour, each of them arrived and chatted and joked.
Elaine was upstairs in bed, very weary from flu and having taken a deal
of medication, she was very sleepy.

During the course of the evening, many of the guests had call to use
the bathroom at one point or another. All of them, other than Nigel,
were drinking wine, which flowed very freely, Nigel being a generous
host. The stairs lead off from the entrance hall, an adjoining room to
the living room where the guests were gathered, and the main bedroom is
next door to the bathroom. It would have been the simplest of tasks for
any of the guests to have looked in to the bedroom to speak with
Elaine.

At some point a discussion took place downstairs about the book, which
became rather heated. Nigel accused Richard of plagiarising his
opinions and not even reading the book under discussion, umbrage was
taken and shortly afterwards Richard left.

According to the reports, the only person that evening to see or speak
to Elaine that evening was April, and she did so about half an hour
after Richard had left, just popping in briefly to say hello. She
recalls that Elaine was very tired, but did just manage a few
words.

Forty minutes later, the reading group had finished and people began to
filter off home. April and Simon were the last to leave, and just as
they had reached the end of the road, Nigel came running after them,
begging them to come back to the house because something terrible had
happened.

On their return, Simon went upstairs with Nigel, to find that Elaine
was dead and the police were called. The experts declared that she had
been smothered, probably with her own pillow, at some point during the
evening. They were unable to time death other than some point in the
last three hours; which would cover the time shortly before the guests
arrived, to just after they departed. They found no forensic evidence
to link any of the guests to the murder and the pathologist said that
the crime could easily have been accomplished in very little time and
with very little force, due to Elaine's weakened state.

The murder had occurred some weeks earlier, the newspapers were
reporting on the details of the inquest, which established that the
death had been by the action of another. The police had immediately
held a press conference, stating that although they might have had
suspicions, they had interviewed all of the witnesses and there was no
basis to charge any particular one of them.

* * *

"So there you have it, " ended Francis, "A rather delicious little
puzzle. "

Damon reached for the sports pages once more, but this time, Francis
plucked the pages from the table and placed them into the waste-paper
basket.

"I don't see why this has got you so excited, " complained Damon, who
was looking forward to a quiet Saturday, perhaps meeting some friends
at his club and having a few whisky-and-sodas.

"Can't you see the beauty of it? " cried Francis, appalled that his
brother was unable to appreciate the subtle nature of the crime, "The
police will never be able to convict anyone of the crime, because any
one of them could have carried it out. It really is a perfect murder.
There's no evidence to point the finger at anyone in particular, nor to
exclude them. "

"What about motive? " asked Damon, "The way I see it, any one of them
COULD have done it, but only one would have wanted to. Nigel, the
husband. "

Francis shuddered, "My dear Damon, it pains me to see you take such a
blunt instrument to a crime of such elegant purity. This case is not
about motive. I could ascribe a motive to any one of the participants.
The very beauty of the scheme could have been a motive, to the right
individual. Such simplistic brilliance could have tempted someone with
no malice, no psychopathy in them at all, if they were able to
appreciate the scheme for what it was. "

"Well, there's no sense in worrying about it, " said Damon, brusquely,
"If there's no evidence to point at any one of them, then the case is
unsolveable and that's an end to it. "

"I think I'm going to go out with Joe, " he said, quickly standing and
making his way towards the door, "He wanted to test his new kite, while
the wind is strong. "

"One moment, " said Francis, and Damon paused by the handle of the
door, knowing that he could flee, that Francis, confined to his room by
fear would never follow, but unable to take this direct action.

"I have a fancy to attack this crime, " said Francis, "Now, in this
instance, I do not think that I will need your help other than in one
small regard."

"Not need my help? " said Damon, slightly hurt, "How do you intend to
interview anyone, or examine the crime scene without leaving this room?
"

"I shall not be doing either of those things, " said Francis in a
superior tone, "This is a crime of the mind, and I shall solve it with
the mind. The crime is, I would say, an unlocked room mystery, and I,
from this room, will compose the most satisfactory solution. I have
only one newspaper this morning. If you would go to the shops and fetch
me a copy of each of today's newspapers, I will have all that I need.
"

Damon laughed, but quickly realised that his pompous brother was
serious.

"Fair enough, " he said, "If you think that just by reading the
newspapers, you can solve a crime that has stumped everyone else, then
I wish you the best of luck. "

"Also, " said Francis, "I believe that The Times today has a style
supplement, in which you feature. I will not be wishing to read that
section, so you may extract it before bringing it to me. Then it is for
you to decide whether to pin the article to the wall, or paste it into
a scrapbook. "

As usual, when Damon left the company of Francis, he felt a strong
desire to kick something. Instead, he looked in on Joe, who was gluing
together small plastic pieces in the hope of constructing a Lancaster
Bomber, though he had already snapped the wheel struts. When Damon told
him to get ready to fly the kite, Joe quickly put the pin back into the
nozzle of the tube of glue, to prevent it drying out and stood up,
almost crushing the plane with his right foot.

* * *

Francis rubbed his plump hands together in delight. The newspapers had
been collected and delivered by Damon. Francis had now worked his way
through the extensive pile, weeding out every 'Travel' and 'Lifestyle'
supplement, every business and sport section, so that what remained was
concentrated news and the occasional tabloid frippery about pop stars
and tennis players.

Of course, he had washed his hands after handling the newspapers,
Francis could not stand to have newsprint on his hands.

On weekdays, Audrey Ribbon would iron the newspaper before bringing it
upstairs for his attention, which seemed to curb the worst of the inky
residue, but even a paragon such as Audrey could not be expected to
work on a Saturday.

Francis carefully laid out a selection of highlighter pens in a variety
of colours. He assigned a different quality to each colour, and drew up
a key describing what each colour would represent. He had his fountain
pen to hand and a pad of unlined paper. He was ready to begin. He drew
the first newspaper towards him and wrote on his pad the name of the
newspaper and the date of the edition, and then the words, 'Salient
facts'.

He worked diligently for two hours, then began the process again,
having consulted his notes. This time he was writing notes onto
apple-green index cards. Now that he had read all of the source
material, a further look at each story might reveal fresh
aspects.

* * *

Out on the common, Joe had the kite high in the air, the tail whipping
back and forth in the wind. Joe squealed with joy as the kite darted
around in the pale blue sky. Beside him, Damon gave words of
encouragement about how much string to play out and kicked pine cones
with grim vigour.

"What do you think of Francis? " he asked at length.

"He's funny, " said Joe, pulling sharply at the string, "He doesn't
like to come out. He's afraid of the sky, like Chicken Little. But he's
nice to me, when he isn't grumpy. We play chess together, I like that.
"

Nobody would ever have played chess with Damon, it would have been a
pointless exercise. There were many people in London who would have
queued up to play poker with Damon, seeing it as a lucrative business
opportunity, but intellectual stimulation was not really his
forte.

Damon was essentially quite a kind person, if a little dim, but
occasionally the jibes from Francis became too much for him to bear. He
wasn't thin-skinned, but to be constantly abused by his brother nipped
badly at him. Sometimes he was even jealous of Francis, wished that he
could be the genius of the family instead, who could solve a puzzle
with such natural ease.

Yes, Damon had the public image of being that man, thegenius detective,
the brilliant puzzle-solver, he had the respect and fame that came with
it, but all the while, he knew that it didn't really belong to him and
it sat uneasily.

His brother Francis could crack the craziest of mysteries but couldn't
leave the room, and Damon sometimes struggled if he had to decide
whether to push or pull at a door when leaving a room. If it was all in
the genes, then it had just been purely bad luck that Francis got the
blend with all the brains.

Still, on a crisp Saturday morning with the wind up and the grass
crunching underfoot laced with silver frost and with the pleasure of
watching his younger brother try to guide a wilful kite, it didn't seem
like he was the unlucky one after all.

"Can I hold the kite for a bit? " he asked.

Handling the kite, Damon was in a different world, a child again, free
of all the constraints and pettiness of life. There was only he and the
wind.

"We've been out here for seventy-five minutes, " said Joe
earnestly.

Damon knew that Joe didn't wear a watch, but had no reason to doubt
Joe's estimate. He seemed to have an uncanny knack of keeping track of
time. A glance at his own watch told him that Joe was right.

"That's four thousand five hundred seconds, " said Joe, with a grave
tone, "Of course, it's more now, since I've been telling you. "

"Do you suppose we ought to get back to Francis?"

Joe nodded, "He might be very lonely on his own self. "

* * *

Francis laid out his index cards on the polished surface of the desk,
moving them around into various patterns, from which different facets
of the case revealed themselves to him. Damon and Joe arrived noisily
downstairs, but Francis was able to shut this out while he sifted
through the cards.

He laid his plump index finger on one of the cards, the account of the
argument between Nigel and Richard Laidlaw. One of the quality
newspapers had reported the police interviews of this argument
verbatim, from the accounts given by the two participants in interview.
The other witnesses accounts were hopelessly vague - 'they just argued
about the book'.

The book under discussion had been Peter Carey's "True history of the
Kelly gang". The group had discussed their views of it, Nigel being
very keen and April and Simon having been confused by the lack of
punctuation, complaining that it had been impossible to get a grip on
the story, that things kept sliding about.

Richard had said, "I liked the salty, colloquial style and found it
wonderfully lyrical and deeply moving. It was rough and ready in style
, but far from being discouraging, I found it allowed me to envelop
myself in the life and times of Ned Kelly."

At which point, Nigel had butted in with, "Would you recommend the book
to anyone with an interest in Australia, history in general or who
enjoys reading books which conjure up the great outdoors and the spirit
of the outlaw?"

Laidlaw had become very disconcerted and had muttered his broad
agreement.

"Then you and 'a reader from Edinburgh, Scotland' who sent his comments
in to Amazon.co.uk seem to have total agreement on their opinions. You
haven't even read this book Laidlaw, you moron. "

Nigel had then produced photocopies of the Amazon reviews and handed
them round to the other guests. The argument had deteriorated from that
point on, with Nigel revealing that he had suspected for some time that
Richard had not actually been reading the books they were discussing,
but simply cribbing the opinions of others from the Internet.

Richard Laidlaw pointed out that this might not have been necessary,
had any of the books proposed by the dull group actually been worth
reading. Laidlaw had then stormed out and slammed the door.

The next card to fall beneath Francis' fingers was one setting out
speculation that Nigel and April had been involved romantically. The
newspapers had been understandably cautious about this aspect, simply
hinting at it darkly and reporting unspecified locals who felt there
was something in it. They were able to report that the relationship
between Simon and April was certainly at an end, with him moving in
with a work-mate, 'while things sort themselves out'. An incident where
Simon had hospitalised a man in a public house for flirting with April
was also discussed.

Yet another card speculated that Richard Laidlaw and Elaine had been
lovers. He was certainly charismatic, dark and brooding, a man who had
discarded women as others discard junk mail or old newspapers. A
previous girlfriend had spoken to the press saying that sometimes in
their relationship he had looked at her with barely disguised
contempt.

The accounts of the evening were precise, but only in their vagueness.
All of them had visited the bathroom at one point or another, leaving
the others and going upstairs for a short while. Nobody recalled Nigel
going upstairs during the evening, and he himself told the police that
he hadn't, that he had been busy hosting the group and leading
discussions.

Another card described something of the victim, said to be a bright
woman, dedicated to her job as a deputy headteacher; a post which
Lorraine Davies had stepped into as the next logical choice. She was
fairly wealthy in her own right, having received a package of
investments from her father when he died. Those who knew her said that
she was amusing and kind, but kept her thoughts very much to
herself.

Still another described some of the books discussed by the group in
recent weeks - Richard Laidlaw had gone with 'A man in Full' by Tom
Wolfe, April with the Bridget Jones sequel, Lorraine had elected Far
from the Madding Crowd, Elaine Orlando by Virginia Woolf and Simon had
selected LA Confidential by James Ellroy. Nigel's most recent choice
had been 'True History of the Kelly Gang'.

Francis picked up the card which dealt with April's trip upstairs. She
recalled that this had been after the argument between Nigel and
Laidlaw, where Laidlaw had stormed out. She had gone upstairs a while
later and before going to the bathroom had quickly looked in on the
bedroom, where she had seen Elaine in the bed, covers pulled up to her
chin and moaning softly. There had been a fug of Albus oil in the air
and tissues strewn over the bedclothes. She had just said something
bland like, 'Not feeling any better Elaine?' and Elaine had said
something in reply, in a very muffled voice. April couldn't remember
what it was that Elaine had said, and it caused her a great deal of
distress to have forgotten the very last words that Elaine had ever
spoken. They had just been something like, 'I feel terrible', though
she couldn't swear that those had been the words.

* * *

When Damon and Joe opened the office door a crack and squeezed through,
Francis was hunched over his desk, peering at index cards as though
they were charged with deep significance, looking rather humorously
like a Tarot reader at a country fair, missing only a headscarf and
hoop earrings. There could have been nothing further removed from the
beliefs held by Francis and Damon could barely suppress a snort of
laughter.

"You may well laugh, " said Francis tartly, "But while you have been
squandering your day playing with the wind, I have been unlocking the
unlocked room mystery. I believe I have hit upon the most elegant
solution. "

Despite himself, Damon was a little curious, "But there's no way that
anyone could prove any one of them committed murder. "

"I didn't say that I could prove my theory in a court of law. That is
the intrinsic beauty of the scheme, that the perpetrator could never be
demonstrated beyond doubt to be the killer. I am certain, however, that
my account is the correct one. "

"Talk me through it then, " Damon said, his fingers toying with the
apple-green index cards on the table.

"Firstly, " said Francis, "We need to consider your ugly word, motive.
Each of the central players had some sort of motive. Gain, jealousy,
love, revenge. All very tawdry and obvious. "

"Next, was April right about speaking to Elaine? If she was wrong, or
lying, then we must then bring Nigel back into the equation. Without
her evidence, he is clearly the most likely perpetrator, simply killing
her before the party began. If she really were his lover and she
discovered the body, she would have had good reason to lie. But I
reject that theory. "

"Why ?"

"Because, my brother, this was a beautiful crime and to exchange it for
something so brutal and stupid would not fit. Nigel would not have
smothered his wife before the party, because that would have placed him
squarely in the frame for the crime. He would have placed himself at
huge risk. "

At this point, there was a blood curdling yell from outside the study,
but they suspected that it was only Joe and let him continue doing
whatever it was he was doing.

"Another factor convinces me that April was telling the truth, " said
Francis, "Her inability to recall what Elaine had actually said.
"

Damon appeared puzzled, so Francis continued, "How did I describe this
mystery earlier? "

"Ah, you said it was a lovely puzzle. "

"Exactly ! " Francis said, triumphantly, "You got the gist of it, but
not the exact words. That's how people tend to remember things. If
April was lying, she would have invented something and stuck to it. Her
story becomes more convincing to me because it sounds so vague. "

"The key to this case, " declared Francis, "Is the beauty of the crime.
This was not something that occurred spontaneously. It was not an
opportunistic crime. The killer saw a way to commit a crime that nobody
could be convicted of. That isn't something which occurred in a few
moments. The killer had been thinking about it for hours before
attending the party. That beauty, that elegance is the way to solve the
crime. "

Joe slipped into the room and asked if anyone knew where the cat had
gone. It had apparently run off startled when Joe had brandished a
tomahawk and given a Red Indian yell. Damon told him that he hadn't
seen the cat and Joe made off down the corridor, doing a strange
hopping dance and shaking his rubber tomahawk.

"Only by looking for the person who could have devised the crime can we
find the person who did. Who had the most warning of Elaine's illness,
the most time to plan and prepare, who stood to gain most by her death?
Why did one person choose not to drink wine, but pour it for others,
thus ensuring he would not need to go upstairs to the bathroom? Who, in
short, had most to gain by a crime which baffled? "

"Nigel of course, " said Damon, "But you can't say that he's the killer
solely on the basis that he couldn't have done it. Where's the sense in
that?"

"That is exactly why I am so sure that he DID do it. The crime was
engineered, staged in such a way to deflect attention from the most
obvious murderer. If Elaine had been murdered in any other way,
suspicion would immediately have fallen on the husband. He knew full
well that someone would look in on Elaine and give him an alibi.
"

Damon sighed heavily and said, "This is pure gibberish. You can't get
round the fact that he never actually left the room. He can't have
smothered her by remote control. Unless, there was some sort of device!
"

"There was no device save the most obvious, " sighed Francis, "An
accomplice. Someone else carried out the deed, but Nigel planned and
directed the whole affair. I told you earlier that the way April
remembered dialogue spoke of the truth. What then, do I make of the
dramatic conversation between Nigel and Richard? Both recalled it
almost verbatim. As if they had rehearsed it. Which, of course, is
exactly what they had done. "

"Look at this list of books. The only two people with similar tastes
are Nigel and Richard. Yet Richard doesn't bother to read a book he
ought to have at least appreciated, if not enjoyed. "

"These are the two men who had something in common in the group. Both
attractive to women, both intelligent, bright and hungry. Yet, both
made a great show of detesting the other. Why would Laidlaw continue to
come to the Reading Group if he really found nobody there who
interested him and disliked the books? Everyone has looked for the
Other Woman, but the real search is for the other man. "

"Hang on, " complained Damon once more, "You can't swap one man who
couldn't have committed the crime for another in exactly the same
position and claim to have solved it. April saw Elaine alive AFTER
Richard had left. "

"After he had stormed out. After he had slammed the door. Nobody knows
which SIDE of the door he was on when he slammed it. Using the noise as
a distraction, he slipped upstairs and concealed himself in the spare
bedroom, waiting until someone had come up and spoken to Elaine. This
gave both men the definite alibi that they needed. He then smothered
her and went back into the spare bedroom, leaving the house after
everyone else had left the party, by the back door. The beauty of
Nigel's scheme was that both men were completely exonerated from the
crime. There was no way that either of them could have done it. "

Francis grinned broadly and leaned back in his chair, his arms folded
behind his head, a picture of satisfaction, "One unlocked room mystery
resolved. I'm really rather pleased with this one. "