Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 8: Death at the Dolphin, Hand in Glove, Dead Water. Ngaio Marsh

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      The car drew up with a jerk. Sergeant Raikes got out and opened the rear door for Mr Cartell, who was clearly flustered.

      ‘Harold,’ Desirée said, with amusement. ‘How are you? I recognized your hat. Good afternoon, Mr Copper. Good afternoon, Mr Raikes.’

      ‘I wonder,’ Mr Cartell began as he removed his hat, ‘if you could spare me a moment.’

      ‘Why not? Come in.’

      Bare-headed, baldish and perturbed, he followed her distrustfully into the house.

      ‘What do we do?’ Mr Copper asked Raikes.

      ‘Wait. What else? The Scorpion’s not here, George.’

      ‘You don’t say,’ Mr Copper bitterly rejoined, looking round the open expanse of drive.

      Raikes walked to the front of the Bloodbath and looked at the surface of the drive. He laid his hand pontifically on the bonnet and snatched it away with an oath.

      ‘She’s boiling,’ Mr Copper observed.

      ‘Ta for the information.’

      ‘You would insist on the hurry. She can’t take it.’

      ‘All right. All right. I said I ought to come on the bike. Stay where you are, George.’

      Mr Copper watched him with resentment. Doubled forward he cast about the drive.

      ‘The Scorpion,’ he said, ‘drips her grease rather heavy, doesn’t she?’

      ‘That’s right.’

      ‘And she’s shod on three feet with Griprich and on the off-hind with Startread. Correct?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘She’s came,’ Sergeant Raikes said, ‘and went. Look for yourself.’

      Mr Copper said: ‘So what do we do? Roar after her with the siren screaming? If we had a siren.’

      ‘We’ll follow it up for you through the usual channels. Don’t worry.’

      ‘What’ll I say to the owner? Tell me that. I’m selling her on commission, mind! I’m responsible!’

      ‘No need to panic. They might come back.’

      ‘More likely to be half-way to London with changed number-plates. Who started the panic, anyway. You, with your police records. Come back! Them!’

      The front door opened and Mr Cartell appeared, white-faced, in the entrance.

      ‘Oh – Raikes,’ he said. ‘I’ve a little further business to discuss indoors, but will join you in a moment. Will you stay where you are and deal with the car situation when they return?’

      ‘Sir?’

      ‘Yes,’ said Mr Cartell. ‘There’s no immediate need for alarm. They are coming back.’

      With a sharp look at both of them he returned indoors.

      ‘There you are,’ Sergeant Raikes said. ‘What did I tell you? You leave this one to me.’

      V

      ‘What I can’t see,’ Desirée said, turning her enormous lack-lustre eyes upon her former husband, ‘is why you’ve got yourself into such a state. Poor Mr Copper’s been told that you and P.P. and Connie won’t guarantee the sale. All he’s got to do is take the car away from them.’

      ‘If they return it,’ Mr Cartell amended.

      ‘I hope, Harold darling, you’re not suggesting that they’ll make a break for Epping Forest and go native on Magnums’ smoked salmon. That really would be too tiresome. But I’m sure they won’t. They’re much too anxious to worm their way into my party.’

      ‘You can’t,’ Mr Cartell said in a hurry, ‘possibly allow that, of course.’

      ‘So everybody keeps telling me.’

      ‘My dear Desirée –’

      ‘Harold, I want to tackle you about Andrew.’

      Mr Cartell gave her one sharp glance and froze. ‘Indeed,’ he said.

      ‘He tells me you won’t let him have his money.’

      ‘He will assume control of his inheritance at the appointed time, which is on the sixth of November next.’

      ‘He did explain, didn’t he, why he needs it now? About the Grantham Gallery being for sale and wanting to buy it?’

      ‘He did. He also explained that he wishes to leave the Brigade in order to manage the gallery.’

      ‘And go on with his own painting.’

      ‘Precisely. I cannot agree to anticipating his inheritance for these purposes.’

      ‘He’s gone into it very carefully and he’s not a baby or a fool. He’s twenty-four and extremely level-headed.’

      ‘In this matter, I cannot agree with you.’

      ‘Bimbo’s been into it, too. He’s prepared to put up some of the cash and go in as a partner.’

      ‘Indeed. I am surprised to learn he is in a position to do so.’

      She actually changed colour at this. There was a short silence and then she said: ‘Harold, I ask you very seriously to let Andrew have his inheritance.’

      ‘I’m sorry.’

      ‘You may remember,’ she said, with no change of manner, ‘that when I do fight, it’s no holds barred.’

      ‘In common with most –’

      ‘Don’t say “with most of my delightful sex”, Harold.’

      ‘One can always omit the adjective,’ said Mr Cartell.

      ‘Ah, well,’ Desirée said pleasantly and stood up. ‘I can see there’s no future in sweet reasonableness. Are you enjoying life in P.P.’s stately cottage?’

      Mr Cartell also rose. ‘It’s a satisfactory arrangement,’ he said stiffly, ‘for me: I trust for him.’

      ‘He won’t enjoy the Moppett-Leonard crise, will he? Poor P.P., such a darling as he is and such a God-almighty snob. Does he know?’

      ‘Know what?’ Mr Cartell asked unguardedly.

      ‘About your niece and her burglar boyfriend?’

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