Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 5: Died in the Wool, Final Curtain, Swing Brother Swing. Ngaio Marsh

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СКАЧАТЬ small. Not a lock, really. Just a twist.’

      ‘A teeny-weeny twist,’ said Ursula in a ridiculous voice, suddenly gay again. She had a chancy way with her, one moment nervously intent on her memories, the next full of mockery.

      ‘I suppose,’ said Alleyn, ‘one might pick up a bit of wool in the shed and, being greasy, it might hang about on one’s clothes?’

      ‘It might,’ said Fabian lightly.

      ‘And being greasy,’ Douglas added, ‘it might also hang about in one’s room.’

      ‘Not in Auntie Floss’s room,’ Ursula said. ‘I always did her room, Douglas, you shan’t dare to say I left greasy wool lying squalidly about for days on the carpet. Pig!’ she mocked at him.

      He turned his head lazily and looked at her. Alleyn saw his arm slip down the back of the sofa to Terence Lynne’s shoulders. Ursula laughed and pulled a face at him. ‘It’s all nonsense,’ she said, ‘this talk of locks of wool. Moonshine!’

      ‘Personally,’ said Terence Lynne, ‘I can’t think it very amusing. For me, and I’d have thought for all of us, the idea of sheep’s wool in her room that morning is perfectly horrible.’

      ‘You’re hateful, Terry,’ Ursula flashed at her. ‘It’s bad enough to have to talk about it. I mind more than any of you. You all know that. It’s because I mind so much that I can’t be too solemn. You know I’m the only one of us that loved her. You’re cold as ice, Terry, and I hate you.’

      ‘Now then, Ursy,’ Fabian protested. He knelt up and put his hands over hers. ‘Behave!’ he said. ‘Be your age, woman. You astonish me.’

      ‘She was a darling, and I loved her. If it hadn’t been for her –’

      ‘All right, all right.’

      ‘You would never even have seen me if it hadn’t been for her.’

      ‘Who was it,’ Fabian murmured, ‘who held the grapes above Tantalus’s lips? Could it have been Aunt Florence?’

      ‘All the same,’ said Ursula with that curious air, half-rueful, half-obstinate, that seemed to characterize her relationship with Fabian, ‘you’re beastly to me. I’m sorry, Terry.’

      ‘May we go on?’ asked Douglas.

      Alleyn, in his chair beyond the firelight, stirred slightly and at once they were attentive and still.

      ‘Captain Grace,’ Alleyn said, ‘during the hunt for the diamond brooch, you went up to the house for a torch, didn’t you?’

      ‘For two torches, sir. I gave one to Uncle Arthur.’

      ‘Did you see any one in the house?’

      ‘No. There was only Markins. Markins says he was in his room. There’s no proof of that. The torches are kept on the hall table. The telephone rang while I was there and I answered it. But that only took a few seconds. Somebody wanting to know if Aunt Florence was going north in the morning.’

      ‘From the terrace in front of the house you look down on the fenced paths, don’t you? Could you see the other searchers from there?’

      ‘Not Uncle Arthur or Fabian, but I could just see the two girls. It was almost dark. I went straight to my uncle with the torch, he was there all right.’

      ‘Were you with him when he found the brooch?’

      ‘No. I simply gave him the torch and returned to my own beat with mine. I heard him call out a few moments later. He left the brooch where it was for me to see. It looked like a cluster of blue and red sparks in the torchlight. It was half-hidden by zinnia leaves. He said he’d looked there before. It wasn’t too good for him to stoop much and his sight wasn’t so marvellous. I supposed he’d just missed it.’

      ‘Did you go into the end path, the one that runs parallel with the others and links them?’

      ‘No. He did.’

      ‘Mr Rubrick?’

      ‘Yes. Earlier. Just as I was going to the house and before you went down there, Ursy, and talked to Terry.’

      ‘Then you and Mr Rubrick must have been there together, Miss Lynne,’ said Alleyn.

      ‘No,’ said Terence Lynne quickly.

      ‘I understood Miss Harme to say that when she met you in the bottom path you told her you had been searching there.’

      ‘I looked about there for a moment. I don’t remember seeing Mr Rubrick. I wasn’t with him.’

      ‘But –’ Douglas broke off. ‘I suppose I made a mistake,’ he said. ‘I had it in my head that as I was going up to the house for the torches he came out of the lavender walk into my path and then moved on into the bottom path. And then I had the impression that as I returned with the torches he came back from the bottom path. It was just then that I heard you two arguing about whether you’d stop in the bottom path or not. You were there then.’

      ‘I may have seen him,’ said Terence. ‘I was only there a short time. I don’t remember positively, but we didn’t speak – I mean we were not together. It was getting dark.’

      ‘Well, but Terry,’ said Ursula, ‘when I went into the bottom path you came towards me from the far end, the end nearest the lavender walk. If he was there at all, it would have been at that end.’

      ‘I don’t remember, Ursula. If he was there we didn’t speak and I’ve simply forgotten.’

      ‘Perhaps I was mistaken,’ said Douglas uncertainly. ‘But it doesn’t matter much, does it? Arthur was somewhere down there and so were both of you. I don’t mind admitting that the gentleman whose movements that evening I’ve always been anxious to trace, is our friend Mr Markins.’

      ‘And away we go,’ said Fabian cheerfully. ‘We’re on your territory now, sir.’

      ‘Good,’ said Alleyn; ‘what about Markins, Captain Grace? Let’s have it.’

      ‘It goes back some way,’ said Douglas. ‘It goes back, to be exact, to the last wool sale held in this country, which was early in 1939.’

      II

      ‘– So Aunt Floss jockeyed poor old Arthur into scraping acquaintance with this Jap. Kurata Kan his name was. They brought him up here for the weekend. I’ve heard that he took a great interest in everything, grinning like a monkey and asking questions. He’d got a wizard of a camera, a German one, and told them photography was his hobby. Landscape mostly, he said, but he liked doing groups of objects too. He took a photograph in the Pass. He was keen on flying. Uncle Arthur told me he must have spent a whole heap of money on private trips while he was here, taking his camera with him. He bought photographs too, particularly infra-red aerial affairs. He got the names of the photographers from the newspaper offices. We found that out afterwards, though apparently he didn’t make any secret of it at the time. It seems he was bloody quaint in his ways and talked like something out of the movies. Flossie fell for it like an avalanche. “My dear little Mr Kan.” She was frightfully bucked СКАЧАТЬ