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

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      ‘A bit. But it was – it was sort of confidential. In a way.’

      ‘Why are you frightened, Nicola?’ Alleyn asked gently.

      ‘I’m not. It’s just that: well, the whole thing’s rather a facer. What’s happened. I suppose I’ve got a bit of a delayed shock or something.’

      ‘Yes,’ Alleyn said. ‘It might, of course, be that.’

      He rose and looked down at her from his immoderate height. ‘As my maiden aunt said to her cat: “I can accept the urge and I can deal with the outcome: what I cannot endure are these pointless preliminaries!” She ought to have been in the CID.’

      ‘What am I supposed to make of that?’

      ‘Don’t have kittens before they’re hatched. And for pity’s sake don’t hedge or shuffle: that never did anybody any good. Least of all, your young man.’

      ‘He is not my young man. I only met him yesterday.’

      ‘Even so quickly may one catch the plague. Did you stay here last night?’

      ‘No. I was at Baynesholme for a party.’

      ‘Not Desirée Bantling’s party!’ Alleyn ejaculated.

      ‘Yes, but it wasn’t the sort you mean. It was a lovely party,’ said Nicola, looking mistily at him. She described it.

      ‘Any unforeseen incidents?’

      ‘Only Moppett and Leonard who practically gatecrashed. And Pixie, of course.’

      ‘What! What about Pixie?’

      Nicola told him. ‘Pixie,’ she added, ‘bit Bimbo. He had to go and have his hand bandaged.’

      ‘You wouldn’t,’ Alleyn asked, ‘know what time it was when Pixie staged this show?’

      ‘Yes, I would,’ Nicola said promptly and blushed. ‘It was not much after one o’clock.’

      ‘How do you know?’

      ‘We got back at half past twelve from the treasure hunt. It was not more than half an hour after that.’

      ‘We?’

      ‘Andrew and I. We hunted in pairs.’

      ‘I thought you said you all had to be in by midnight?’

      ‘All right. Yes, we were meant to. But Andrew thought the treasure hunt was pretty tiresome so we talked instead. He told me about his painting and somehow we didn’t notice.’

      Nicola looked squarely at Alleyn. ‘It couldn’t matter less,’ she said, ‘but I would like to mention that I did not have a casual affair with Andrew. We talked – and talked –’

      Her voice faded on an indeterminate note. She was back at the end of Mr Period’s lane, in Andrew’s draughty car, tucked up in Andrew’s old duffel coat that smelt of paint. The tips of their cigarettes glowed and waned. Every now and then a treasure-hunter’s car would go hooting past and they would see the occupants get out and poke about the drain-pipes and heaps of soil, flicking their torches and giggling. And Andrew talked – and didn’t initiate any of the usual driver’s seat techniques but was nevertheless very close to her. And the moon had gone down and the stars were bright and everything in the world seemed brand new and shining. She gave Alleyn the factual details of this experience.

      ‘Do you remember,’ he asked, ‘how many cars stopped by the drain or who any of the people were?’

      ‘Not really. They were all new to me: lots of Nigels and Michaels and Sarahs and Davids and Gileses.’

      ‘You could see them fairly clearly?’

      ‘Fairly. There was a hurricane lantern shining on two planks across the ditch and they all had torches.’

      ‘Any of them walk across the planks?’

      ‘I think most of them. But the clue was under one of the drain-pipes on the road side of the ditch. We’d see them find it and giggle over it and put it back and then go zooming off.’

      ‘Anyone touch the planks? Look under the ends for the clue?’

      ‘I don’t think so.’ Nicola hesitated and then said: ‘I remember Leonard and Moppett. They were the last and they hadn’t got a torch. He crossed the planks and stooped over as if he was looking in the ditch. I got the impression that they stared at us. There was something, I don’t know what, kind of furtive about him. I can see him now,’ Nicola said, surprised at the vivid memory. ‘I think he had his hand inside his overcoat. The lamplight was on him. He turned his back to us. He stooped and straightened up. Then he recrossed the bridge and found the clue. They looked at it by the light of the lantern and he put it back and they drove away.’

      ‘Was he wearing gloves?’

      ‘Yes, he was. Light-coloured ones. Tight-fitting wash-leather I should think: a bit too svelte like everything else about Leonard.’

      ‘Anything more?’

      ‘No. At least – well, they didn’t sort of talk and laugh like the others. I don’t suppose any of this matters.’

      ‘Don’t you, indeed? And then, you good, observant child?’

      ‘Well, Andrew said: “Funny how ghastly they look even at this distance!” And I said: “Like – !” No, it doesn’t matter.’

      ‘Like what?’

      ‘“Like grand-opera assassins” was what I said but it was a silly remark. Actually, they looked more like sneak thieves but I can’t tell you why. It’s nothing.’

      ‘And then?’

      ‘Well, they were the last couple. You see, Andrew kept count, vaguely, because he thought it would be all right to continue our conversation as long as there were still hunters to come. But before them, Lady Bantling and Mr Period came past. She was driving him home. She stopped the car by the planks and I fancy she called out to a hunting couple that were just leaving. Mr Period got out and said good night with his hat off, looking rather touching, poor sweet, and crossed the planks and went in by his side gate. And she turned the car.’ Nicola stopped.

      ‘What is it?’

      ‘Well, you see, I – I don’t want –’

      ‘All right. Don’t bother to tell me. You’re afraid of putting ideas into my head. How can I persuade you, Nicola, that it’s only by a process of elimination that I can get anywhere with this case? Incidents that look as fishy as hell to you may well turn out to be the means of clearing the very character you’re fussing about.’

      ‘May they?’

      ‘Now, look here. An old boy of, as far as we know, СКАЧАТЬ