Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 8: Death at the Dolphin, Hand in Glove, Dead Water. Ngaio Marsh
the headlines. At the time, Alleyn recollected, Bimbo was stated to be a declared bankrupt. It was before his marriage to Desirée.
She introduced them. Bimbo, who had the slightly mottled complexion of a man who has slept heavily in the afternoon, nodded warily and glanced at the tray. His right hand was neatly bandaged and he did not offer it to Alleyn.
‘The Super and I, darling,’ Desirée said, ‘are boy-and-girl chums. He was starving and I’ve given him a snack. He’s jolly famous nowadays, so isn’t it nice to have him grilling us?’
‘Oh, really?’ said Bimbo. ‘Ha-ha. Yes.’
‘You must answer all his questions very carefully because it seems as if Hal was murdered. Imagine!’
Interpreting this speech to be in the nature of a general warning, Alleyn said: ‘I wonder if I may have a word with you, Mr Dodds.’ And to Desirée: ‘Thank you so much for my delicious luncheon-without-prejudice.’
For a split second she looked irritated and then she said: ‘Not a bit. Do I gather that you want to go into a huddle with my husband?’
‘Just a word,’ Alleyn said equably, ‘if we may. Perhaps somewhere else –’
‘Not at all. I’ll go and snip the dead heads off roses except that there aren’t any roses and it’s the wrong time of the year.’
‘Perhaps you could get on with your embroidery,’ said Alleyn and had the satisfaction of seeing her blink.
‘Suppose,’ she suggested, ‘that you adjourn to Bimbo’s study. Why not?’
‘Why not?’ Bimbo echoed without cordiality.
As Alleyn passed her on his way out, she looked full in his face. It was impossible to interpret her expression, but he’d have taken a long bet that she was worried.
Bimbo’s study turned out to be the usual sporting-print job with inherited classics on the shelves, together with one or two paperbacks, looking like Long Acre in its more dubious reaches. Bimbo, whose manner was huffy and remote, said: ‘This is a very unpleasant sort of thing to happen.’
‘Yes, isn’t it?’
‘Anything we can do, of course.’
‘Thank you very much. There are one or two points,’ Alleyn said without refurbishing the stock phrases, ‘that I’d like to clear up. It’s simply a matter of elimination, as I’m sure you’ll understand.’
‘Naturally,’ said Bimbo.
‘Well, then. You’ll have heard that Mr Cartell’s body was found in a trench that has been dug in Green Lane, the lane that runs past Mr Period’s garden. Did you drive down Green Lane at any time last evening?’
‘Ah –’ Bimbo said. ‘Ah – let me think. Yes, I did. When going round the clues.’
He paused while Alleyn reflected that this was a fair enough description of his own preoccupation.
‘The clues for the treasure hunt?’ he said. ‘When?’
‘That’s right. Oh, I don’t know. About half past ten. Might be later. I simply drove over the territory to see how they were all getting on.’
‘Yes, I see … Was there anybody in the lane?’
‘Actually,’ Bimbo said casually, ‘I don’t remember. Or do I? No, there wasn’t.’
‘Did you get out of the car?’
‘Did I? I believe I did. Yes. I checked to make sure the last clue was still there.’
‘“If you don’t know what to do, think it over in the loo.”’
‘Quite. Was it still there this morning?’ Bimbo asked sharply.
‘When did you get back?’
‘Here? I don’t know exactly.’
‘Before Lady Bantling, for instance?’
‘Oh, yes. She drove old Period home. That was later. I mean, it was while I was out. I mean, we were both out, but I got home first.’
‘You saw her come in?’
‘I really don’t remember that I actually saw her. I heard her, I think. I was looking round the ballroom to see everything was all right.’
‘Any idea of the time?’
‘I’m afraid I really wasn’t keeping a stop-watch on our movements. It was before twelve because they were all meant to be back by midnight.’
‘Yes, I see. And did you leave the house again?’
‘I did not.’
‘I believe there was some sort of dog-fight.’
‘My God, yes! Oh, I see what you mean. I went out with the others to the terrace and dealt with it. That ghastly bitch –’ Here Bimbo made one or two extremely frank comments upon Pixie.
‘She bit you, perhaps?’
‘She certainly did,’ Bimbo said, nursing his hand.
‘Very professional bandage.’
‘I had to get the doctor.’
‘After the party?’
‘That’s right. I fixed it up myself at the time, but it came unstuck.’
‘You tied it up?’
Bimbo stared at him. ‘I did. I went to a bathroom, where there’s a first-aid cupboard, and stuck a bandage on. Temporarily.’
‘How long did this take you, do you know?’
‘I don’t know. How the hell should I?’
‘Well – at a guess.’
‘Quite a time. It kept oozing out, but in the end I fixed it. Quite a time really. I should think all of twenty minutes before I rejoined the party. Or more. Some bloody mongrel tore my trousers and I had to change.’
‘Maddening for you,’ Alleyn said sympathetically. ‘Tell me: you are a member of the Hacienda Club?’
Bimbo went very still. Presently he said: ‘I simply cannot conceive what that has to do with anything at issue.’
‘It has, though,’ Alleyn said cheerfully. ‘I just wondered, you see, whether you’d ever run into Leonard Leiss at the Hacienda. His name’s on their list.’
‘I certainly have not,’ Bimbo said. He moved away. Alleyn wondered if he was lying.
‘I’m no longer a member and I’ve never seen Leiss to my knowledge,’ Bimbo said, ‘until yesterday. He got himself asked to our party. In my opinion he’s the rock-bottom. A frightful person.’
‘Right. So that settles that. Now, about the business of your step-son and the Grantham Galleries.’
He gave Bimbo time to register the surprise that this change in tactics produced. It was marked by a very slight widening of the eyes and recourse to a cigarette-case. Alleyn sometimes wondered how much the cigarette-smoking person scored over an abstainer when it came to police investigations. ‘Oh, that!’ Bimbo said. ‘Yes, well, I must say I think it’s quite a sound idea.’
‘You talked it over with Bantling?’
‘Yes, I did. We went into it pretty thoroughly. I’m all for it.’
‘To the extent of taking shares in it yourself?’
Bimbo said airily: ‘Even that. Other things being equal.’
‘What other things?’
‘Well – fuller inquiries