In the Teeth of the Evidence Read Free

the little bag . . . who’s the bloke in the eye-glass? . . . Looks a proper nobleman, don’t he, Florrie? . . . Why he’ll be the insurance bloke . . . Coo! look at his grand car . . . that’s where the money goes . . . That’s a Rolls, that is . . . no, silly, it’s a Daimler . . . Ow, well, it’s all advertisement these days.’
        Wimsey giggled indecorously all the way up the garden path. The sight of the skeleton car amid the sodden and fire-blackened remains of the garage sobered him. Two police constables, crouched over the ruin with a sieve, stood up and saluted.
        ‘How are you getting on, Jenkins?’
        ‘Haven’t got anything very much yet, sir, bar an ivory cigarette-holder. This gentleman’ – indicating a stout, bald man in spectacles, who was squatting among the damaged coachwork – ‘is Mr Tolley, from the motor-works, come with a note from the Superintendent, sir.’
        ‘Ah, yes. Can you give an opinion about this, Mr Tolley? Dr Maggs you know. Mr Lamplough, Lord Peter Wimsey. By the way, Jenkins, Mr Lamplough has been going into the corpse’s dentistry, and he’s looking for a lost tooth. You might see if you can find it. Now, Mr Tolley?’
        ‘Can’t see much doubt about how it happened,’ said Mr Tolley, picking his teeth thoughtfully. ‘Regular death-traps, these little saloons, when anything goes wrong unexpectedly. There’s a front tank, you see, and it looks as though there might have been a bit of a leak behind the dash, somewhere. Possibly the seam of the tank had got strained a bit, or the union had come loose. It’s loose now, as a matter of fact, but that’s not unusual after a fire, Rouse case or no Rouse case. You can get quite a lot of slow dripping from a damaged tank or pipe, and there seems to have been a coconut mat round the controls, which would prevent you from noticing. There’d be a smell, of course, but these little garages do often get to smell of petrol, and he kept several cans of the stuff here. More than the legal amount – but that’s not unusual either. Looks to me as though he’d filled up his tank – there are two empty tins near the bonnet, with the caps loose – got in, shut the door, started up the car, perhaps, and then lit a cigarette. Then, if there were any petrol fumes about from a leak, the whole show would go up in his face – whoosh!’
        ‘How was the ignition?’
        ‘Off. He may never have switched it on, but it’s quite likely he switched it off again when the flames went up. Silly thing to do, but lots of people do do it. The proper thing, of course, is to switch off the petrol and leave the engine running so as to empty the carburettor, but you don’t always think straight when you’re being burnt alive. Or he may have meant to turn off the petrol and been overcome before he could manage it. The tank’s over here to the left, you see.’
        ‘On the other hand,’ said Wimsey,‘ he may have committed suicide and faked the accident.’
        ‘Nasty way of committing suicide.’
        ‘Suppose he’d taken poison first.’
        ‘He’d have had to stay alive long enough to fire the car.’
        ‘That’s true. Suppose he’d shot himself – would the flash from the – no, that’s silly – you’d have found the weapon in the case. Or a hypodermic? Same objection. Prussic acid might have done it – I mean, he might just have had time to take a tablet and then fire the car. Prussic acid’s pretty quick, but it isn’t absolutely instantaneous.’
        ‘I’ll have a look for it anyway,’ said Dr Maggs.
        They were interrupted by the constable.
        ‘Excuse me, sir, but I think we’ve found the tooth. Mr Lamplough says this is it.’
        Between his pudgy finger and thumb he held up a small, bony object, from which a small stalk of metal still protruded.
        ‘That’s a right upper incisor crown all right by the look of it,’ said Mr Lamplough.