Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 3: Death in a White Tie, Overture to Death, Death at the Bar. Ngaio Marsh
in for medicine, isn’t he?’
‘Well –’ Bridget hesitated. ‘Yes. That was the original idea, but Wits rather advises him not to. Donald says there’s not much in medicine nowadays and, anyway, a doctor is rather a dreary sort of thing to be.’
‘Is he?’ asked Alleyn. ‘You mean not very smart?’
‘No, of course I don’t mean that,’ said Bridget. She glared at Alleyn. ‘You are a pig,’ she said. ‘I suppose I do. I hate drab, worthy sort of things and, anyway, it’s got nothing to with the case.’
‘I should like to know what career Captain Withers has suggested for Donald.’
‘There’s nothing definite yet. They’ve thought of starting a new night club. Wits has got wonderfully original ideas.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Alleyn. ‘I can quite imagine it. He’s doing quite well with the place at Leatherhead, isn’t he? Why doesn’t he take Donald in there?’
Bridget looked surprised.
‘How did you know about that?’ she asked.
‘You must never say that to policemen,’ said Alleyn. ‘It steals their thunder. As a matter of fact, I have been talking to Withers and the Leatherhead venture cropped up.’
‘Well, I dare say you know more about it than I do,’ said Bridget. ‘Donald says it’s just a small men’s club. More for fun than to make money. They play bridge and things. I don’t think there’s any opening there.’
‘Have you spoken to Donald since his uncle died?’ Bridget clenched her hands and thumped them angrily on her knees.
‘Of course, he rang me up. I’d just got to the telephone when Bart came in looking like a beastly old Cochin China rooster and took the receiver from me. I could have killed him, he was so infuriating! He was all sort of patient and old-world. He sympathized with Donald and then he said: “If you don’t mind old fellow speaking frankly, I think it would be better if you didn’t communicate with my stepdaughter for the time being!” I said: “No! Give it to me,” but he simply turned his back on me and went on: “You understand. I’m afraid I must forbid it,” and put the receiver down. I stormed at him but we were in Donna’s room and she was so upset I had to give in and promise I wouldn’t write or anything. It’s so beastly, beastly unfair. And it’s all because Bart’s such a filthy old snob and is afraid of all the reporters and scandal and everything. Horrid bogus old man. And he’s absolutely filthy to darling Donna. How she ever married him! After daddy, who must have been so gay, and charming, and who loved her so much. How she could! And if Bart thinks I’m going to give Donald up he’s jolly well got another think coming.’
‘Are you engaged?’
‘No. We’re waiting till Donald begins to earn.’
‘And how much must Donald earn before he is marriageable?’
‘You don’t put it very nicely, do you? I suppose you think I’m hard and modern and beastly. I dare say I am, but I can’t bear the idea of everything getting squalid and drab because we have to worry about money. A horrid little flat, second-rate restaurants, whitewood furniture painted to look fresh and nice. Ugh! I’ve seen these sorts of marriages,’ said Bridget looking worldly-wise, ‘and I know.’
‘Donald is his uncle’s heir, you know.’
Bridget was on her feet, her eyes flashing.
‘Don’t you dare,’ she said, ‘don’t you dare to say that because Donald gets the money he had anything to do with this. Don’t you dare.’
‘And don’t you go putting ideas into people’s heads by getting on the defensive before you’ve been given cause,’ said Alleyn very firmly indeed. He put his hand inside his breast-pocket. The slight bulge disappeared and out came Alleyn’s notebook. In the midst of her fury Bridget’s glance fell on it. She looked from the notebook to Alleyn. He raised one eyebrow and screwed his face into an apologetic grimace.
‘The idea was perfectly magnificent,’ he said. ‘It did look like a cigarette-case. The edges of the bulge weren’t quite sharp enough.’
‘Pig!’ said Bridget.
‘Sorry,’ said Alleyn. ‘Now then. Three or four offical questions, if you please. And look here, Miss Bridget, will you let me offer you a very dreary piece of advice? It’s our set-piece for innocent witnesses. Don’t prevaricate. Don’t lose your temper. And don’t try any downright thumping lies, because if you do, as sure as eggs is eggs, you’ll be caught out and it’ll look very nasty indeed for anyone whom you thought you were going to protect. You think Donald is innocent, don’t you?’
‘I know he is innocent.’
‘Right. Then you have nothing in the wide world to fear. Away we go. Did you sit out in the green sitting-room on the top gallery?’
‘Yes. Lots of times.’
‘During the supper hour? Between twelve and one?’
Bridget pondered. As he watched her Alleyn looked back at youth and marvelled at its buoyancy. Bridget’s mind bounced from thoughts of death to thoughts of love. She was sorry Bunchy was murdered, but as long as Donald was not suspected she was also rather thrilled at the idea of police investigation. She was sincerely concerned at her mother’s distress and ready to make sacrifices on Lady Carrados’s behalf. But ready to meet all sorrow, anger or fright was her youth, like a sort of pneumatic armour that received momentary impressions of these things but instantly filled out again. Now, when she came to her mother’s indisposition she spoke soberly, but it was impossible to escape the impression that on the whole she was stimulated rather than unnerved by tragedy.
‘I was up there with Donald until after most people had gone into the supper-room. We both came down together. That was when I returned her bag to Donna. Donna wasn’t well. She’s awfully tired. She nearly fainted when I found her in the supper-room. She said afterwards it was the stuffiness.’
‘Yes?’
‘It was a queer sort of night, hot indoors, but when any of the windows were opened the mist came in and it brought a kind of dank chilliness. Donna asked me to fetch. her smelling-salts. I ran upstairs to the ladies’ cloakroom. Donna’s maid Sophie was there. I got the smelling-salts from Sophie and ran downstairs. I couldn’t find Donna but I ran into Bunchy who said she was all right again. I had booked that dance with Percy Percival. He was a bit drunk and was making a scene about my having cut him out. So I danced with him to keep him quiet.’
‘Did you go up to the green sitting-room again?’
‘Not for some time. Donald and I went up there towards the end of the party.’
‘Did you at any stage of the proceedings leave your cigarette-case on the pie-crust table in that room?’
Bridget stared at him.
‘I haven’t got a cigarette-case; I don’t smoke. Is there something about a cigarette-case in the green sitting-room?’
‘There may be. Do you know if anybody overheard Bunchy telephone from that room at about one o’clock?’
‘I haven’t heard of it,’ said Bridget. He saw that her curiosity was aroused. ‘Have you asked Miss Harris?’ she said. ‘She was on the top landing a good deal last night. She’s somewhere in the house now.’
‘I’ll have a word with her. There’s just one other point. Lord Robert was with your mother when you returned her bag, wasn’t he? He was there when she felt faint?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘Did he seem upset in any way?’
‘He seemed very concerned about Donna but that was all. Sir Daniel – Donna’s doctor – came up. Bunchy opened a window. They all seemed to want me out of the way. Donna asked for her