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

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СКАЧАТЬ have led to terrible miscarriages of justice. You see, Nicola, the beastly truth is that if you are involved, however accidentally in a crime of this sort, you can’t avoid responsibility.’

      ‘I’m sorry. I suppose you’re right. But in this instance – about Lady Bantling, I mean – it’s nothing. It’ll sound disproportionate.’

      ‘So will lots of other things that turn out to be of no consequence. Come on. What happened? What did she do?’

      Nicola, it transpired, had a gift for reportage. She gave a clear account of what had happened … Alleyn could see the car turn in the lane and stop. After a pause the driver got out, her flaming hair haloed momentarily in the light of the lantern as she crossed the planks, walking carefully in her high heels. She had gone through Mr Period’s garden gate and disappeared. There had been a light in an upper window. Andrew Bantling had said: ‘Hallo, what’s my incalculable ma up to!’ They had heard quite distinctly the spatter of pebbles against the upper window. A figure in a dark gown had opened it. ‘Great grief!’ Andrew had ejaculated. ‘That’s Harold! She’s doing a balcony scene in reverse! She must be tight.’

      And indeed, Lady Bantling had, surprisingly, quoted from the play. ‘“What light,” she had shouted, “from yonder window breaks?”’ and Mr Cartell had replied irritably, ‘Good God, Desirée, what are you doing down there!’

      Her next remark was in a lower tone and they had only caught the word ‘warpath’ to which he had rejoined: ‘Utter nonsense!’

      ‘And then,’ Nicola told Alleyn, ‘another light popped up and another window opened and Mr Period looked out. It was like a Punch and Judy show. He said something rather plaintive that sounded like: “Is anything the matter?” and Lady Bantling shouted: “Not a thing, go to bed, darling,” and he said: “Well, really! How odd!” and pulled down his blind. And then Mr Cartell said something inaudible and Lady Bantling quite yelled: “Ha! Ha! You jolly well watch your step,” and then he pulled his blind down and we saw her come out, cross the ditch, and get into the car. She drove past us and leant out of the driving window and said: “That was a tuppenny one. Don’t be too late, darlings” and went on. And Andrew said he wished he knew what the hell she was up to and soon after that we went back to the party. Leonard and Moppett had already arrived.’

      ‘Was Desirée Bantling, in fact, tight?’

      ‘It’s hard to say. She was perfectly in order afterwards and acted with the greatest expediency, I must say, in the Pixie affair. She’s obviously,’ Nicola said, ‘a law unto herself.’

      ‘I believe you. You’ve drifted into rather exotic and dubious waters, haven’t you?’

      ‘It was all right,’ Nicola said quickly. ‘And Andrew’s not a bit exotic or dubious. He’s a quiet character. Honestly. You’ll see.’

      ‘Yes,’ Alleyn said. ‘I’ll see. Thank you, Nicola.’ Upon which the door of Mr Period’s drawing-room burst open and Andrew, scarlet in the face, stormed in.

      ‘Look here!’ he shouted, ‘what the hell goes on? Are you grilling my girl?’

      IV

      Alleyn, with one eyebrow cocked at Nicola, was crisp with Andrew. Nicola herself, struggling between exasperation and a maddening tendency to giggle invited Andrew not to be an ass and he calmed down and presently apologized.

      ‘I’m inclined to be quick-tempered,’ he said with an air of self-discovery and an anxious glance at Nicola.

      She cast her eyes up and, on Alleyn’s suggestion, left Andrew with him and went to the study. There she found Mr Period in a dreadful state of perturbation, writing a letter.

      ‘About poor old Hal,’ he explained distractedly. ‘To his partner. One scarcely knows what to say.’

      He implored Nicola to stay and as she still had a mass of unassembled notes to attend to, she set to work on them in a strange condition of emotional uncertainty.

      Alleyn had little difficulty with Andrew Bantling. He readily outlined his own problems, telling Alleyn about the Grantham Gallery and how Mr Cartell had refused to let him anticipate his inheritance. He also confirmed Nicola’s account of their vigil in the car. ‘You don’t,’ he said, ‘want to take any notice of my mamma. She was probably a thought high. It would amuse her to bait Harold. She always does that sort of thing.’

      ‘She was annoyed with him, I take it?’

      ‘Well, of course she was. Livid. We both were.’

      ‘Mr Bantling,’ Alleyn said, ‘your step-father has been murdered.’

      ‘So I feared,’ Andrew rejoined. ‘Beastly, isn’t it? I can’t get used to the idea at all.’

      ‘A trap was laid for him and when, literally, he fell into it, his murderer levered an eight-hundred-pound drain-pipe on him. It crushed his skull and drove him, face down, into the mud.’

      The colour drained out of Andrew’s cheeks. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘You needn’t go on. It’s loathsome. It’s too grotesque to think about.’

      ‘I’m afraid we have to think about it. That’s all for the moment. Thank you.’

      ‘Well, yes. All right, I see. Thank you.’ Andrew fidgeted with his tie and then said: ‘Look; I dare say you think I’m being pretty callous about all this but the fact is I just can’t assimilate it. It’s so unreal and beastly.’

      ‘Murder is beastly. Unfortunately it’s not unreal.’

      ‘So it seems. Is it in order for me to go up to London? I’m meant to be on guard tomorrow. As a matter of fact I had thought of going up on business.’

      ‘Important business?’

      ‘Well – to me. I wanted to ask them to give me a few days’ grace over the gallery.’ He stared at Alleyn. ‘I suppose this will make a difference,’ he said. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

      ‘And now you have thought of it –?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ Andrew said slowly. ‘It seems a bit low to think of it at all. I’d like to talk it over with Nicola. As a matter of fact –’ He looked sideways at Alleyn. ‘I rather thought of coming back and then going up with her. After I’ve telephoned my mamma, I suppose. I can’t imagine what she’ll make of all this, I must say.’

      ‘Where are you going to be on guard?’

      ‘The Tower,’ Andrew said dismally.

      ‘All right. We’ll get in touch if we want you.’

      Leaving Andrew where he was, Alleyn had a discussion with Fox and Williams in Mr Period’s garden and then checked the story of the cigarette-case with Alfred and then crossed the green to interview Miss Cartell.

      She received him in her den. He found it a depressing room. Everything seemed to be the colour of mud. Faded snapshots of meets, of foxhounds and of other canines, covered the walls. On the desk, which was a shambles, were several framed photographs of a cagey-looking girl whom he СКАЧАТЬ