Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 4: A Surfeit of Lampreys, Death and the Dancing Footman, Colour Scheme. Ngaio Marsh
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СКАЧАТЬ a damn’ sight worse than Potty!’

      III

      Mr Fox had remained in the drawing-room with the Lampreys and Roberta Grey. Alleyn, on his return with Lord Charles, found Fox sitting in a tranquil attitude on a small chair, with the family grouped round him rather in the manner of an informal conversation piece. Fox had the air of a successful raconteur, the Lampreys that of an absorbed audience. Frid, in particular, was discovered sitting on the floor in an attitude of such rapt attention that Alleyn was immediately reminded of a piece of information gleaned earlier in the evening: Frid attended dramatic classes. On his superior’s entrance, Fox rose to his feet. Frid turned upon Alleyn a gaze of embarrassing brilliance and said: ‘Oh, but you can’t interrupt him. He’s telling us all about you.’ Alleyn looked in astonishment at Fox who coughed slightly and made no remark. Alleyn turned to Lady Charles.

      ‘Has Dr Kantripp come back?’ he asked her.

      ‘Yes. He’s seeing my sister-in-law now. The nurse says she’s a good deal better. So that’s splendid, isn’t it?’

      ‘Splendid. We can’t go very much further without Lady Wutherwood. I think, as you have kindly suggested, Lady Charles, the best plan will be for us to use the dining-room for a sort of office. I shall ask the police-constable on duty on the landing to come in here. Fox and I shall go to the dining-room and as soon as we have sorted out our notes I shall ask you to come in separately.’

      Fox went out into the hall. ‘What’s the time?’ asked Henry suddenly.

      Alleyn looked at his watch. ‘It’s twenty past ten.’

      ‘Good God!’ Lord Charles ejaculated, ‘I would have said it was long past midnight.’

      ‘I think we ought to ring up Aunt Kit again, Charlie,’ murmured Lady Charles.

      ‘I think we ought to ring up Nigel Bathgate,’ said Frid.

      ‘Bathgate!’ cried Alleyn, jerked to attention by this recurrence of his friend’s name. ‘Bathgate? But why?’

      ‘He’s a friend of yours, isn’t he, Mr Alleyn? So he is of ours. As he’s a pressman I thought it would be nice,’ said Frid, ‘to let him in at the death.’

      ‘Frid, darling!’ her mother expostulated.

      ‘Well, Mummy darling, it is just that. Shall I ring Nigel up, Mr Alleyn?’

      Alleyn stared at her. ‘It’s not a matter for us to decide, you know,’ he said at last. ‘He might serve to keep his fellow scavengers at bay. I may say that you will be creating a precedent if – if you actually invite a pressman to your house when –’ His voice petered out. He drove his fingers through his hair.

      ‘Yes, I know,’ said Lady Charles with an air of sympathy. ‘We no doubt seem a very unbalanced family, poor Mr Alleyn, but you will find that there is generally a sort of method in our madness. After all, as Frid points out, it would be a help to Nigel Bathgate who works desperately hard at his odious job, and as you point out, it may save us from masses of avid red-faced reporters asking us difficult questions about Gabriel and poor Violet. Ring him up, Frid.’

      Frid went to the telephone and a uniformed constable came in from the hall and stood inside the door. With the mental sensations usually associated with the gesture of throwing up one’s hands and casting one’s eyes towards Heaven, Alleyn joined Fox in the hall. He drew Fox on to the landing and shut the door behind them.

      ‘And what the hell,’ he asked, ‘have you been telling that collection of certifiable grotesques about me?’

      ‘About you, Mr Alleyn? Me?’

      ‘Yes, you. Sitting there, with them clustered round your great fat knees as if it was a bedtime story. Who do you think you are? Oie-Luk-Oie the dream god, or what?’

      ‘Well, sir,’ said Fox placidly, ‘they asked me such awkward questions about this case that one way and the other I was quite glad to switch off on to some of the old ones. I said nothing but what was to your credit. They think you’re wonderful.’

      ‘Like hell they do!’ muttered Alleyn. ‘Where’s that doctor?’

      ‘In with the dowager. I strolled along the passage but I couldn’t pick anything up. She seems to be shedding tears.’

      ‘I wish to high Heaven he’d give her a corpse-reviver and let her loose on us. I’ll go along and wait for him. I’ve told that PC to note down anything they said.’

      ‘I hope he’ll keep his wits about him,’ said Fox. ‘He’ll need ’em.’

      ‘He’s rather a bright young man,’ said Alleyn. ‘I think he’ll be all right. I’ll tell you one thing about the Lampreys, B’rer Fox. They’re only mad nor’-nor’-west and then not so that you’d notice. They can tell a hawk from a handsaw, I promise you, or from a silver-plated meat skewer, if it comes to that. Get along to the dining-room. I’ll catch the doctor as he comes out and I’ll join you later.’

      But as Alleyn crossed the landing he heard a muffled thump somewhere beneath him. He moved to the stairhead and looked down. Somebody was mounting the stairs, slowly, laboriously. He heard this person cross the landing of the flat beneath. He caught sight of a pancake-like hat, a pair of drooping shoulders, an uneven skirt. This new arrival assisted herself upstairs with her umbrella. That was the origin of the thumping sound. He heard breathing and another faint sibilant noise. She appeared to be whispering to herself. A sentence of Henry’s came into Alleyn’s memory. He coughed. The toiling figure, now quite close, paid no attention. Alleyn coughed stertorously but to no effect. He moved so that his shadow fell across the stairs. The pancake hat tilted backwards revealing a few strands of grey hair and a flushed elderly face wearing an expression of exhausted enquiry.

      ‘Oh,’ she whispered, ‘I didn’t see – The lift doesn’t seem to – Oh, I beg your pardon. I thought for a moment you were one of my nephews.’

      Alleyn, remembering her name and praying no Lampreys would hear him and come out, said loudly: ‘I’m so sorry if I startled you, Lady Katherine.’

      ‘Not a bit. But I’m afraid I don’t quite – I’ve got such a very bad memory.’

      ‘We haven’t met before,’ shouted Alleyn. ‘I wonder if I might have a word with you.’ He saw that she hadn’t heard him and in desperation groped for one of his official cards. Feeling ridiculous, he offered it to her. Lady Katherine peered at it, uttered a little cry of alarm and gazed at Alleyn with an expression of horror.

      ‘Not the police!’ she wailed. ‘It hasn’t come to that? Not already!’

      IV

      Alleyn wondered distractedly if there was anywhere at all in the flat where he could yell in privacy into the ear of this lady. He decided that the best place would be in the disconnected lift with the doors shut. By a series of inviting gestures he managed to lure her in. She sank on to the narrow seat. He had time to reflect that Bailey and Thompson had finished their investigation of the lift. He leant against the doors and contemplated his witness. She was a little like a sheep, and a rapid association of ideas led him instantly to the СКАЧАТЬ