Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 2: Death in Ecstasy, Vintage Murder, Artists in Crime. Ngaio Marsh

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СКАЧАТЬ to write the note to Garnette which Fox found in the cigarette-box.

      Here Nigel’s summary stopped abruptly. He had added a few words and scored them out.

      ‘Excellent,’ said Alleyn.

      ‘It says nothing new, I’m afraid.’

      ‘No, but it raises several disputable points, which is always helpful. By the way, the analyst rang up just before you came. He has found sodium cyanide in the cigarette-paper, but of course the autopsy will take some time yet.’

      ‘Then the Curiosities of Chemistry is an important clue.’

      ‘I don’t know,’ said Alleyn slowly, ‘but I rather fancy it’s not important in quite the way you fancy.’

      ‘Whatever does that mean?’

      ‘There were no prints on that book. Bailey has tried all the stock dodges of dactylography.’

      ‘What may that be? Oh, wait a bit. Dactyl. Why not say “finger-printery”?’

      ‘As you please. He’s dabbed nitrate of silver solution on it and developed the pages. Nothing there. It’s a glossy paper, so someone must have dealt with the book. If Garnette got his big idea from it he must have wiped his fingerprints off and put it where he knew we would find it. A curious combination of forethought and stupidity, don’t you think?’

      ‘Yes, but still – Oh, I don’t know. Go on with Garnette.’

      ‘You note that Garnette was probably the only completely self-possessed person present. A very good point to make. Should you say this crime looks more like the work of a calculating, shrewd, unscrupulous individual, or a hysterical monomaniac with a streak of cunning?’

      ‘The latter, I suppose,’ said Nigel slowly, ‘which Garnette is not. All the same, he might have meant us to think that.’

      ‘Ah,’ said Alleyn, ‘that’s very subtle, Bathgate.’

      ‘Garnette strikes me as being subtlish,’ said Nigel. ‘What do you think about Garnette and Ogden being old partners in infamy?’

      ‘Not a great deal. As I said last night, I think Garnette told the truth when he was tight. If you remember he advanced the colourful suggestion that Ogden looks upon him as the sand-fly’s garters. I’m not well up in Americanese, but I had the distinct impression that Mr Garnette regards Mr Ogden as fair and easy game.’

      ‘Look here,’ said Nigel suddenly, ‘let’s pretend it’s a detective novel. Where would we be by this time? About half-way through, I should think. Well, who’s your pick.’

      ‘I am invariably gulled by detective novels. No herring so red but I raise my voice and give chase.’

      ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Nigel.

      ‘Fact. You see in real detection herrings are so often out of season.’

      ‘Well, never mind, who’s your pick?’

      ‘It depends on the author. If it’s Agatha Christie, Miss Wade’s occulted guilt drips from every page. Dorothy Sayers’s Lord Peter would plump for Pringle, I fancy. Inspector French would go for Ogden. Of course Ogden, on the face of it, is the first suspect.’

      ‘What are you saying! Ogden! Then you do think he’s a bad hat.’

      ‘No. No! He seems a perfectly good hat. I merely say that the immediate circumstances – the actual situation at the time of the murder – point to Ogden.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘My dear Bathgate, this is a sad falling-off. Think of his position.’

      ‘I’m damned if I know what you are driving at. His position seems to be very comfortable. He’s a rich business man.’

      Alleyn cast his eyes up but said nothing.

      ‘Don’t make that maddening grimace, Alleyn. What are you getting at? Do you or do you not suspect Mr Ogden?’

      ‘I suspect the whole lot of them. Apart from the one point I have noted I don’t think he’s any likelier than the others.’

      ‘Surely he’s likelier than Janey Jenkins and Miss Wade.’

      There was a tap at the door and Inspector Fox came in.

      ‘Another report from Bailey, sir,’ he said. ‘Good morning, Mr Bathgate.’

      ‘What’s Bailey say?’ asked Alleyn.

      ‘Nothing new. He’s got to work properly on the prints. Very smart chap, Bailey. He’s found Father Garnette’s prints on the parcel of newspaper, and he thinks there’s a trace of them on the top of the poison book. Nothing on the cyanide page, as you know. Miss Quayne’s on the page torn out of the notebook.’

      ‘When did he get a pattern to compare them with?’

      ‘That would be from the body, sir.’

      ‘Oh, of course.’

      ‘There’s another print come out on the book,’ Fox continued, ‘and he hasn’t been able to trace it. He’d like to get impressions from the rest of them.’

      ‘He shall have them,’ said Alleyn, ‘this afternoon. When’s the inquest? Tomorrow at eleven?’

      ‘That’s right, sir.’

      ‘Well, we’d better call it a day here.’

      ‘Have you found anything?’ Nigel asked. ‘Any clues?’

      ‘Nothing spectacular. De Ravigne’s love letters. A smug and guarded epistle from the Garnette.’

      ‘May I see M. de Ravigne’s letters, sir?’ asked Fox.

      ‘There you are. The one on the top’s the most interesting.’

      Fox seated himself at the table, adjusted a large pair of spectacles and spread out the first of the letters. Nigel strolled up behind him.

      ‘What are you up to?’ inquired Alleyn.

      ‘Nothing,’ said Nigel, reading frantically at long range.

      M. de Ravigne wrote a large flowing hand. It was dated Friday of last week.

      My Adored Cara [the letter began], I distress myself intolerably on your behalf. It is not that you reject me, for that is the fortunes of love which are ever as hazardous as those of war. To accept defeat I can compose myself with dignity and remain, however wounded, your devoted friend. So far have I adopted, at all events outwardly, your English phlegm. It is as your friend I implore you to continue no longer in your design for the role of Chosen Vessel. It is a project fraught with danger to yourself. You are blinded with a false glamour. One may amuse oneself and interest oneself in a religion, but there should be a careful moderation in this as in all things. In becoming the Chosen Vessel you would cast away your moderation and abandon СКАЧАТЬ