Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 8: Death at the Dolphin, Hand in Glove, Dead Water. Ngaio Marsh
a notion. He dined here last night and was normal.’
‘Would you have expected another sort of letter from him?’
‘Another sort? What sort? Oh! I see what you mean. About Ormsbury, poor brute? He’s dead, you know.’
‘Yes.’
‘With P.P.’s passion for condolences it would have been more likely. You mean he’s done the wrong thing? So, who was meant to have this one?’
‘May I at all events keep it?’
‘Do, if you want to.’
Alleyn pocketed the letter. ‘I’d better say at once that you may have been the last person to speak to Harold Cartell, not excepting his murderer.’
She had a cigarette ready in her mouth and the flame from the lighter didn’t waver until she drew on it.
‘How do you make that out?’ she asked easily. ‘Oh, I know. Somebody’s told you about the balcony scene. Who? Andrew, I suppose, or his girl. Or P.P., of course. He cut in on it from his window.’
‘So you had a brace of Romeos in reverse?’
‘Like hell I did. Both bald and me, if we face it, not quite the dewy job either.’
Alleyn found himself at once relishing this speech and knowing that she had intended him to have exactly that reaction.
‘The dewy jobs,’ he said, ‘have their limitations.’
‘Whereas for me,’ Desirée said, suddenly overdoing it, ‘the sky’s the limit. Did you know that?’
He decided to disregard this and pressed on. ‘Why,’ he asked, ‘having deposited Mr Period at his garden gate did you leave the car, cross the ditch and serenade Mr Cartell?’
‘I saw him at his window and thought it would be fun.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I think I said: “But soft what light from yonder window breaks.”’
‘And after that?’
‘I really don’t remember. I pulled his leg a bit.’
‘Did you tell him you were on the warpath?’
There was a fractional pause before she said: ‘Well, I must say P.P. has sharp ears for an elderly gent. Yes, I did. It meant nothing.’
‘And did you tell him to watch his step?’
‘Why,’ asked Desirée, ‘don’t we just let you tell me what I said and leave it at that?’
‘Did you tackle him about that boy of yours?’
‘All right,’ she said, ‘yes, I did!’ And then: ‘They didn’t tell you? Andy and the girl? Have you needled it out of them, you cunning fellow?’
‘I’m afraid,’ Alleyn prevaricated, ‘they were too far up the lane and much too concerned with each other to be reliable witnesses.’
‘So P.P. –’ She leant forward and touched him. ‘Look,’ she said, ‘I honestly don’t remember what I said to Hal. I’d had one or two little drinks and was a morsel high.’ She waited for a moment and then, with a sharpness that she hadn’t exhibited before, she said: ‘If it was a booby-trap, I hadn’t a chance to set it, had I? Not in full view of those two lovebirds.’
‘Who told you about the booby-trap?’
‘P.P. told Andy and Andy told me. And I drove straight here to Baynesholme arriving at twenty-five to twelve. The first couple got back soon afterwards. From then on I was under the closest imaginable observation. Isn’t that what one calls a water-tight alibi?’
‘I shall be glad,’ Alleyn said, ‘to have it confirmed. How do you know you got back at eleven thirty-five?’
‘The clock in the hall. I was watching the time because of the treasure hunt.’
‘Who won?’
‘Need you ask! The Moppett and her bully. They probably cheated in some way.’
‘Really? How do you suppose?’
‘They heard us plotting about the clues in the afternoon. The last one led back to the loo tank in the downstairs cloakroom.’
‘Here?’
‘That’s right. Most of the others guessed it but they were too late. Andrew and Nicola didn’t even try, I imagine.’
‘Any corroborative evidence, do you remember?’
‘Of my alibi?’
‘Of your alibi,’ Alleyn agreed sedately.
‘I don’t know. I think I called out something to Bimbo. He might remember.’
‘So he might. About last night’s serenade to your second husband. Did you introduce the subject of your son’s inheritance?’
She burst out laughing: she had a loud, formidable laugh like a female Duke of Wellington. ‘Do you know,’ she said, ‘I believe I did. Something of the sort. Anything to get a rise.’
‘He called on you yesterday afternoon, didn’t he?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she said quickly. ‘About Flash Len and a car. He was in a great taking-on, poor pet.’
‘And on that occasion,’ Alleyn persisted, ‘did you introduce the subject of the inheritance?’
‘Did we? Yes, so we did. I told Hal I thought he was behaving jolly shabbily which was no more than God’s truth.’
‘What was his reaction?’
‘He was too fussed to take proper notice. He just fumed away about the car game. Your spies have been busy,’ she added. ‘Am I allowed to ask who told you? Wait a bit, though. It must have been Sergeant Raikes. What fun for him.’
‘Why was Cartell so set against the picture gallery idea?’
‘My dear, because he was what he was. Fuddy-duddy-plus. It’s a bore, because he’s Andy’s guardian.’
‘Any other trustees?’
‘Yes. P.P.’
‘What does he think?’
‘He thinks Andy might grow a beard and turn beat, which he doesn’t dig. Still, I can manage my P.P. Boo wouldn’t have minded.’
‘Boo?’
‘Bantling. My first. Andy’s papa. You knew Boo. Don’t be so stuffy.’
Alleyn, who did in fact remember this singularly ineffectual peer, made no reply.
‘And, I may add,’ Lady Bantling said, apparently as an afterthought, ‘Bimbo considered it a jolly good bet. And he’s got a flair for that sort of thing, Bimbo has. As a matter of fact Bimbo offered –’ She broke off and seemed to cock an ear. Alleyn had already heard steps in the hall. ‘Here, I do believe, he is!’ Desirée exclaimed and called out loudly: ‘Bimbo!’
‘Hallo!’ said a distant voice, rather crossly.
‘Come in here, darling.’
The door opened and Bimbo Dodds came in. Alleyn now remembered where he had seen him.
IV
The recognition, Alleyn felt sure, was mutual though Bimbo gave no sign of this. They had last met on the occasion of a singularly disreputable turn-up in a small but esoteric night-club. There had been a stabbing, subsequent revelations involving a person of consequence and a general damping-down process ending