Free Gently at a Gallop by Alan Hunter Page B

Stogumber said.
    ‘Have they?’ Redmayne said. ‘That’s a step forward. Whose was it?’
    ‘It was Creke’s. But Nat wasn’t riding it at the time.’
    Redmayne made a mouth. He looked around, dumped his binoculars and canister in a chair. Then he came forward to the settle. Stogumber shifted his leg, and Redmayne sat.
    ‘So now it’s alibis,’ he said. ‘Every soul who rides a horse.’ He grinned at Gently. ‘I’m a sitting duck,’ he said. ‘I didn’t even find my
Orchis hircina
.’
    ‘Where are Stukey Woods?’ Gently asked Docking.
    ‘Going towards Welling, sir,’ Docking said. ‘That’s beyond Clayfield, about seven miles. Quite a big area of woods there, sir.’
    ‘And not a soul in them,’ Redmayne smiled. ‘And no special permission from Sir Thomas Booke, who owns them. As an alibi it’s so hopeless that you’re almost compelled to believe it.’
    Gently gave him a quick stare. ‘You drove there?’
    ‘Yes – but that was mid-morning.’
    ‘You’d park your car somewhere?’
    ‘At the lodge cottage. But that’s no good either – it’s empty.’
    ‘What make is your car?’
    ‘A Renault 4L. The first truly modern car. You can see it yourself in the coach-house – lots of mud, but no blood.’
    ‘Leo didn’t get back till tea,’ Stogumber said. ‘And I saw him come in from Clayfield way.’
    ‘Ah, but that was at five-thirty, Jimmy,’ Redmayne said. ‘I’d have had time to circle back there and arrive all innocent. No, you can’t spoil my non-alibi. It would stand up in the courts anywhere.’ He smiled pleasantly at Gently. ‘Opportunity,’ he said. ‘But utterly no motive. Charles was a good friend of mine, and Marie is my favourite second cousin.’
    Gently stayed poker-faced. ‘And of course, you’re not a poet?’
    Redmayne looked surprised. ‘Would it be against me?’
    ‘Oh, there’s some nonsense about one of Lachlan’s poems,’ Stogumber said impatiently. ‘Marie was over this afternoon and told us about it.’
    ‘One of Lachlan’s poems,’ Redmayne said slowly. ‘I wonder how that came into the case. Lachlan shows everything he writes to Marie, but it wasn’t an interest that Charlie shared.’
    ‘Perhaps you’d answer my question,’ Gently said.
    Redmayne laughed. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Suddenly, you’ve made it all seem very sinister, as though you were laying one of your famous traps.’ He tapped his fingers on the seat of the settle. ‘Very well, then,’ he said. ‘I’ll play. When I was young and foolish I published one of those slim volumes.’
    ‘Good heavens!’ Stogumber said. ‘I never knew that, Leo.’
    ‘I’ve taken good care you shouldn’t,’ Redmayne smiled. ‘In this high temple of Apollo I wouldn’t care to admit my indiscretions.’
    ‘You wrote traditional verse,’ Gently said. ‘Sonnets?’
    ‘That’s between me and God,’ Redmayne said. ‘It was thirty years ago, near enough. I’m hoping my trespasses have been forgiven. Anyway, what’s the score?’
    Gently shook his head. ‘Have you ever ridden Creke’s stallion?’ he asked.
    ‘That sounds even more sinister,’ Redmayne said. ‘If I admitted it, would you arrest me?’
    ‘Have you?’
    Redmayne shrugged. ‘Once.’
    ‘By George,’ Stogumber said. ‘Did you stay on, Leo?’
    ‘About five bucks,’ Redmayne grimaced. ‘It may have been six. Creke was laughing like a hyena.’
    ‘And it was just that once?’ Gently said.
    ‘Just that once,’ Redmayne said. He paused. ‘Didn’t Creke tell you?’
    Gently stared at him, said nothing.
    Redmayne’s fingers tapped the settle again. ‘I don’t think this is getting you anywhere,’ he said. ‘You’ve had a guess at the horse – it was a guess, wasn’t it? But that doesn’t give you a man or a motive. All you’ve got is Charles acting the goat, and getting himself savaged on the heath. Well, he married a Stogumber. Perhaps that’s as much explanation as you