Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 9: Clutch of Constables, When in Rome, Tied Up in Tinsel. Ngaio Marsh

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      There had been some sort of explanation at large – introductions even – to whoever had been in the saloon followed by a retreat with Alleyn to her cabin. She remembered afterwards that they had encountered Mr Lazenby in the passage.

      Now they sat, side by side, on her bunk and she thought she could cope with Catastrophe itself.

      He put his arm round her and swore briefly but violently, asking her what the bloody hell she thought she was doing and giving her a number of hasty but well-planted embraces. This she found satisfactory. He then said they couldn’t sit down here on their bottoms all day and invited her to relate as quickly as possible anything she thought he ought to know.

      ‘I’ve heard your extraordinary spinster’s been found in The River and that you were the first to see her. Tillottson seems to think it’s a case of foul play. Otherwise I know nothing beyond what you wrote in your letters. Look at you. You’re as white as a sheet. Troy, my darling.’

      ‘It only happened a couple of hours ago, you might remember. Don’t fuss. Rory, there’s so much to tell and I’m meant to be upstairs being grilled with the others.’

      ‘To hell with that. No. Wait a bit. I think we must listen to Tillottson in action. I’ve thrown him into a fine old tizzy, anyway, by turning up. Tell me quickly, then: what’s happened since you posted your last letter at Tollardwark?’

      ‘All right. Listen.’

      She told him about the diary going overboard, the behaviour of Mr Lazenby, the disappearance of Hazel Rickerby-Carrick, her sense of growing tension and Miss Hewson’s discovery of the ‘Constable’.

      ‘There are a lot of other little things that seemed odd to me but those are the landmarks.’

      ‘We’ll have the whole saga in detail later on. You’ve put me far enough in the picture for the moment. Come on. Let’s give Tillottson a treat. I’ve arranged to sit in.’

      So they went upstairs. There were the other passengers in an uneasy row on the semi-circular bench at the end of the saloon: the Hewsons, Mr Pollock, Mr Lazenby, Caley Bard and, a little apart as always, Dr Natouche. The Tretheways were grouped together near the bar.

      Facing the passengers at a dining table were Superintendent Tillottson and a uniformed Sergeant.

      Troy sat by Dr Natouche who, with Caley Bard, rose at her approach. Alleyn stayed at the other end of the saloon. The Zodiac was tied up alongside the wapentake side of The River, below Ramsdyke Lock and the shapeless thunder of the weir could be distinctly heard. Scurries of detergent foam were blown past the open windows.

      It was easy to see that Mr Tillottson suffered from a deep embarrassment. He looked at Troy and cleared his throat, he turned and nodded portentously to Alleyn. His neck turned red and he pursed up his lips to show that the situation was child’s play to him.

      ‘Yerse, well now,’ Mr Tillottson said. ‘I think if you don’t mind, ladies and gentlemen, we’ll just have a wee re-cap. I’ll go over the information we have produced about this unfortunate lady and I’ll be obliged if you’ll correct me if I go wrong.’

      The Sergeant pushed his book across. Mr Tillottson put on a pair of spectacles and began to summarize, consulting the notes from time to time.

      It was very soon clear to Troy that he refreshed his memory, not only from the Sergeant’s notes on what the passengers had divulged but also from the information she had given him on her three visits to police stations. Particularly was this apparent when he outlined the circumstances of Hazel Rickerby-Carrick’s disappearance. Troy sensed her companions’ surprise at Mr Tillottson’s omniscience. How, they must surely be asking themselves, had he found time to make so many inquiries? Or would they merely put it all down to the expeditious methods of our county police?

      She glanced quickly at Alleyn and saw one eyebrow go up.

      Mr Tillottson himself evidently realized his mistake. His résumé became a trifle scrambled and ended abruptly.

      ‘Well now,’ he said. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, since we are all agreed that as far as they go, these are the facts I won’t trouble you any more just now except to say that I hope you will all complete your cruise as planned. The craft will proceed shortly to a mooring above Ramsdyke Lock where she will tie up for the night and she will return to Norminster at about eleven o’clock tomorrow morning. I’m afraid I shall have to ask you to remain within reach for the inquest which will probably be held the following day. In Norminster. If there is any trouble about securing accommodation, my department will be glad to assist.’

      Upon this the Hewsons broke into vehement expostulation, complaining that they were on a tight schedule and were due next evening, to make a connection for Perth, Scotland.

      Caley Bard said that with any luck they might meet up with Mavis and everybody but Troy and Dr Natouche looked shocked. Miss Hewson said if that was a specimen of British humour she did not, for her part, appreciate it and Mr Hewson said he did not find himself in stitches either.

      Mr Lazenby asked if – since all their accounts of the affair agreed – it would not be acceptable for them to be represented at the inquest by (as it were) a spokesman and it was clear that he did not cast himself for this role. He had important appointments with ecclesiastical big-wigs in London and was loath to forgo them. He developed antipodean-type resentment and began to speak of the reactionary conduct of pom policemen. He said: ‘Good on you,’ to the Hewsons and formed an alliance.

      Caley Bard said it was an unconscionable bore but one didn’t, after all, fish corpses out of the waterways every day of the week and he would resign himself to the ruling. He grew less popular with every word he uttered.

      Mr Pollock whined. He wanted to know why they couldn’t sign a joint statement, for God’s sake, and then bugger off if the ladies would excuse the expression.

      Everybody except Caley Bard, Troy and Alleyn looked scandalized and Mr Lazenby expostulated.

      Dr Natouche asked if, since his practice was within reasonable driving distance of Norminster, he might be summoned from thence. He realized, of course, that as he had made the preliminary examination he would be required to give evidence under that heading.

      Mr Tillottson glanced at Alleyn and then said he thought that would be quite in order.

      He now asked to see the passports of Mr Lazenby and the Hewsons and they were produced, Mr Lazenby taking the opportunity to complain about the treatment of Australian visitors at British Customs. Mr Tillottson said the passports would be returned and shifted his feet about as a preface to rising.

      It was now that Mr Lazenby suddenly said: ‘I’m puzzled.’ And Troy thought ‘Here we go.’

      ‘I’d like to ask,’ he said, and he seemed to be looking at her, ‘just how the police have come by some of their information. When did the Superintendent find the opportunity to make the necessary inquiries? To the best of my belief, from the time he got here until this present moment, the Superintendent has been on The River or here in this boat. If you don’t object, Superintendent, I think this calls for an explanation. Just to keep the record straight.’

      ‘Blimey, chum, you’re right!’ Mr Pollock exclaimed and the Hewsons broke into a little paean of agreement. They all stared at Troy.

      Mr Tillottson made an almost instant recovery. СКАЧАТЬ