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

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      ‘What did our gentleman say?’

      ‘Ah! What would you expect? Came out very quiet and firm on my behalf. “I think,” he said, “that Alfred has given us a perfectly clear picture and that there is no need to ask him to repeat it. Thank you, Alfred. I’m sorry to have troubled you.” So, of course, I said, “Thank you, sir,” with what I trust was the proper emphasis, and withdrew. But you can take it from me, there’s serious trouble and deep feeling in more than one direction. Something was said at luncheon that was very ill-received by our gentleman. Said by Mr C. Speculation,’ added Alfred, who had grown calmer and reverted to his normal habit of speech, ‘speculation is unprofitable. Events will clarify.’

      ‘Why Raikes, though?’ she pondered.

      ‘Ah! And I happened to ascertain from the chaps in the lane that Raikes brought Mr C. back in George Copper’s Bloodbath and George himself turned up in that Scorpion he’s got in his garage. And what’s more, the rural mail-van gave those two a lift back. They’ve been invited to the Big House party tonight. They’re dining and staying with Miss Cartell. They were very pleased with themselves, the mail-van driver said, but cagey in their manner.’

      The kitchen door was ajar and Mr Cartell’s voice sounded clearly from the hall.

      ‘Very well,’ he was saying. ‘If that should prove to be the case I shall know how to act and I can assure you, P.P., that I shall act with the utmost vigour. I trust that you are satisfied.’

      The front door slammed.

      ‘Mercy on us!’ Mrs Mitchell apostrophized. ‘Now, what?’ and added precipitantly: ‘My bedroom window!’

      She bolted from the kitchen and Alfred heard her thundering up the back stairs.

      Presently she returned, flushed and fully informed.

      ‘Across the green,’ she reported, ‘to Miss Cartell’s.’

      ‘And you may depend upon it, Mrs M.,’ Alfred said, ‘that the objective is Miss Moppett.’

      III

      Moppett had changed into the evening-dress she kept in her bedroom at Miss Cartell’s house. It was geranium red, very décolleté and flagrantly becoming to her. She lay back in her chair, admiring her arms and glancing up from under her eyebrows at Mr Cartell.

      ‘Auntie Con’s at a Hunt Club committee do of sorts,’ she said. ‘She’ll be in presently. Leonard’s collecting his dinner-jacket off the bus.’

      ‘I am glad,’ Mr Cartell said, giving her one look and thereafter keeping his gaze on his own folded hands, ‘of the opportunity to speak to you in private. I will be obliged if, as far as my sister is concerned, you treat our conversation as confidential. There is no need, at this juncture, to cause her unnecessary distress.’

      ‘Dear me,’ she murmured, ‘you terrify me, Uncle Hal.’

      ‘I will also be obliged if the assumption of a relationship which does not exist is discontinued.’

      ‘Anything you say,’ she agreed after a pause, ‘Mr Cartell.’

      ‘I have two matters to put before you. The first is this. The young man, Leonard Leiss, with whom you appear to have formed a close friendship, is known to the police. If he persists in his present habits it will only be a matter of time before he is in serious trouble and, if you continue in your association with him, you will undoubtedly become involved. To a criminal extent. I would prefer, naturally, to think you were unaware of his proclivities, but I must say that I am unable to do so.’

      ‘I certainly am unaware of anything of the sort and I don’t believe a word of it.’

      ‘That,’ Mr Cartell said, ‘is nonsense.’

      ‘I’m very sorry, but I’m afraid it’s you that’s talking nonsense. All this to-do because poor Leonard wants to buy a car and I simply mention to Copper that Auntie Con – I hope you don’t mind if I go on calling her that – knows him and that you and P.P. might give him the okay. It was only a matter of form, anyway. Of course, if we’d thought you wouldn’t like it we wouldn’t have dreamt of doing it. I’m jolly sorry we did and Leonard is, too.’

      Mr Cartell raised his eyes and looked at her. For a moment she boggled, but only for a moment. ‘And I must say,’ she said boldly, ‘we both take a pretty poor view of you coming to Baynesholme and creating a scene. Not that it made any difference with Lady Bantling. She’s asked us both for tonight in spite of whatever nonsense she may have been told about us,’ Moppett announced and laughed rather shrilly.

      He waited for a moment and then said: ‘It would be idle to discuss this matter any further. I shall turn to my second point and put it very bluntly. What did you do with Mr Period’s cigarette-case?’

      Moppett recrossed her legs and waited much too long before she said: ‘I don’t know what you mean?’

      ‘Precisely what I have said. You and Leiss examined it after luncheon. What did you do with it?’

      ‘How dare you’ – Moppett began – ‘how dare you –’ and Leonard came into the room.

      When he saw Mr Cartell he fetched up short. ‘Pardon me,’ he said elegantly. ‘Am I interrupting something?’

      Moppett extended her arm towards him. ‘Darling,’ she said. ‘I’m being badgered. Can you cope?’

      He took her hand and sat on the arm of her chair. ‘What goes on?’ he asked. He was normally a white-faced young man: this characteristic at the moment was particularly noticeable.

      ‘To be perfectly honest,’ Moppett began, ‘I haven’t a clue. But it appears that we’re meant to know where poor old P.P. puts his museum pieces.’

      ‘Mr Period’s cigarette-case has disappeared,’ Mr Cartell said, addressing Leonard exclusively. ‘You and Miss Ralston were the last persons known to handle it. You may care to make a statement as to what you did with it.’

      Leonard said: ‘Disappeared! By Jove, that’s too bad, isn’t it?’ His pale fingers closed tightly over Moppett’s. ‘Of course, we must help if we can. Yes, now – yes. I do remember. I left it on the window-ledge in the dining-room. You remember, sweetie, don’t you?’

      ‘Perfectly.’

      ‘Was the window open or shut?’

      ‘Oh,’ Leonard said easily, ‘open. Yes. Open.’

      ‘Did you open it, Mr Leiss?’

      ‘Me? What would I do that for? It was open.’

      ‘It was shut,’ Mr Cartell said, ‘during luncheon.’

      ‘Then I suppose the butler-chap – what’s-’is-name – must have opened it.’

      ‘No.’

      ‘That,’ Leonard remarked, smiling, ‘is СКАЧАТЬ