Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 7: Off With His Head, Singing in the Shrouds, False Scent. Ngaio Marsh
I’d caught sight of Camilla,’ said Ralph simply.
‘Where was she?’
‘At the side and towards the back. The left side, as you faced the dancing arena. OP, she calls it.’
‘By herself?’
‘Yes, then.’
‘But not earlier? Before she ran away from “Crack”?’
‘No.’ Ralph’s face slowly flooded to a deep crimson. ‘At least, I don’t think so.’
‘Of course she wasn’t,’ Dr Otterly said in some surprise. ‘She came up with the party from this pub. I remember thinking what a picture the two girls made, standing there together in the torchlight.’
‘The two girls?’
‘Camilla was there with Trixie and her father.’
‘Was she?’ Alleyn asked Ralph.
‘I – ah – I – yes, I believe she was.’
‘Mr Stayne,’ Alleyn said, ‘you will think my next question impertinent and you may refuse to answer it. Miss Campion has been very frank about your friendship. She has told me that you are fond of each other but that, because of her mother’s marriage and her own background, in its relation to yours, she feels an engagement would be a mistake.’
‘Which is most utter and besotted bilge,’ Ralph said hotly. ‘Good God, what age does she think she’s living in! Who the hell cares if her mum was a blacksmith’s daughter?’
‘Perhaps she does.’
‘I never heard such a farrago of unbridled snobbism.’
‘All right. I dare say not. You said, just now, I think, that Miss Campion had refused to see you. Does that mean you haven’t spoken to each other since you’ve been in South Mardian?’
‘I really fail to understand –‘
‘I’m sure you don’t. See here, now. Here’s an old man with his head off, lying on the ground behind a sacrificial stone. Go back a bit in time. Here are eight men, including the old man, who performed a sort of playdance as old as sin. Eight men,’ Alleyn repeated and vexedly rubbed his nose. ‘Why do I keep wanting to say “nine”. Never mind. On the face of it, the old man never leaves the arena or dance floor or stage or whatever the hell you like to call it. On the face of it, nobody offered him any violence. He dances in full view. He has his head cut off in pantomime and in what for want of a better word, we must call fun. But it isn’t really cut off. You exchanged signals with him after the fun so we know it isn’t. He hides in a low depression. Eight minutes later, when he’s meant to resurrect and doesn’t, he is found to be genuinely decapitated. That’s the story everybody gives us. Now, as a reasonably intelligent chap and a solicitor into the bargain, don’t you think that we want to know every damn’ thing we can find out about these eight men and anybody connected with them?’
‘You mean – just empirically. Hoping something will emerge?’
‘Exactly. You know very well that where nothing apropos does emerge, nothing will be made public.’
‘Oh, no, no, no,’ Ralph ejaculated irritably. ‘I suppose I’m being tiresome. What was this blasted question? Have I spoken to Camilla since we both came to South Mardian? All right, I have. After church on Sunday. She’d asked me not to, but I did because the sight of her in church was too much for me.’
‘That was your only reason?’
‘She was upset. She’d come across Ernie howling over a dead dog in the copse.’
‘Bless my soul!’ Alleyn ejaculated. ‘What next in South Mardian? Was the dog called Keeper?’
Ralph grinned. ‘I suppose it is all a bit Brontë. The Guiser had shot it because he said it wasn’t healthy, which was no more than God’s truth. But Ernie cut up uncommonly rough and it upset Camilla.’
‘Where did you meet her?’
‘Near the forge. Coming out of the copse.’
‘Did you see the Guiser on this occasion?’
After a very long pause, Ralph said: ‘Yes. He came up.’
‘Did he realize that you wanted to marry his granddaughter?’
‘Yes.’
‘And what was his reaction?’
Ralph said: ‘Unfavourable.’
‘Did he hold the same views that she does?’
‘More or less.’
‘You discussed it there and then?’
‘He sent Camilla away first.’
‘Will you tell me exactly all that was said?’
‘No. It was nothing to do with his death. Our conversation was entirely private.’
Fox contemplated the point of his pencil and Dr Otterly cleared his throat.
‘Tell me,’ Alleyn said abruptly, ‘this thing you wear as the Betty – it’s a kind of stone age crinoline to look at, isn’t it?’
Ralph said nothing.
‘Am I dreaming it, or did someone tell me that it’s sometimes used as a sort of extinguisher? Popped over a girl so that she can be carried off unseen? Origin,’ he suggested facetiously, ‘of the phrase “undercover girl”? Or “undercover man”, of course.’
Ralph said quickly and easily: ‘They used to get up to some such capers, I believe, but I can’t see how they managed to carry anybody away. My arms are outside the skirt thing, you know.’
‘I thought I noticed openings at the sides.’
‘Well – yes. But with the struggle that would go on –’
‘Perhaps,’ Alleyn said, ‘the victim didn’t struggle.’
The door opened and Trixie staggered in with two great buckets of coal.
‘Axcuse me, sir,’ she said. ‘You-all must be starved with cold. Boy’s never handy when wanted.’
Ralph had made a movement towards her as if to take her load, but had checked awkwardly.
Alleyn said: ‘That’s much too heavy for you. Give them to me.’
‘Let be, sir,’ she said, ‘no need.’
She was too quick for him. She set one bucket on the hearth and, with a sturdy economy of movement, shot half the contents of the other on the fire. The knot of reddish hair shone on the nape of her neck. Alleyn was reminded of a Brueghel peasant. She straightened herself easily and turned. Her face, blunt and acquiescent, held, he thought, its own secrets and, in its mode, was attractive.
She glanced at Ralph and her mouth widened.
‘You don’t look too clever yourself, then, Mr Ralph,’ she said. ‘Last night’s ghastly business has overset us all, I reckon.’
‘I’m all right,’ Ralph muttered.
‘Will there be anything, sir?’ Trixie asked Alleyn pleasantly.
‘Nothing at the moment, thank you. Later on in the day some time, when you’re not too busy, I might ask for two words with you.’
‘Just ax,’ she said. ‘I’m willing if wanted.’
She smiled quite broadly at Ralph Stayne. ‘Bean’t I, Mr Ralph?’ she asked placidly and went away, swinging her empty bucket.
‘Oh, God!’ Ralph burst out, and, before any