Inspector Alleyn 3-Book Collection 2: Death in Ecstasy, Vintage Murder, Artists in Crime. Ngaio Marsh
no,’ he said slowly, ‘except he seemed – well, sir, it’s a rum thing two of the gentlemen should offer money for the police investigations. An unheard of idea. But of course they were both foreigners. As far as Mr Ogden is concerned, well, we have heard of the word “racket,” haven’t we?’
‘Exactly,’ agreed Alleyn dryly. ‘I imagine his proposal is not unusual in the States.’
‘Ogden’s too good to be true,’ interrupted Nigel. ‘You mark my words,’ he added darkly, ‘he was trying to bribe you.’
‘Bribe us to do what, my dear Bathgate? To catch a murderer?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Nigel loftily.
‘And was M. de Ravigne also attempting to undermine the honour of the force?’
Oh,’ said Nigel, ‘de Ravigne’s a Frenchman. He is no doubt over-emotionalized and – and – oh, go to the devil.’
‘It seems to me,’ rumbled Fox, ‘that we ought to have a look at that little bottle in the cupboard – the one Mr Wheatley talked about.’
‘I agree. We’ll move into Mr Garnette’s “little dwelling.” By the way, where is Mr Garnette? Is he still in the vestry being searched?’
As if in answer to Alleyn’s inquiry, the vestry door opened and the priest came out. He was now dressed in a long garment made of some heavy, dark-green material. The plain-clothes man who had escorted him into the vestry came to the door and stared after the priest with an air of disgusted bewilderment.
‘Ah, Inspector!’ cried Father Garnette with holy cheeriness. ‘Still hard at work! Still hard at work!’
‘I’m most frightfully sorry,’ said Alleyn. ‘There was no need for you to wait in there. You could have returned to your rooms.’
‘Have I been long? I was engaged in an ecstatic meditation and had passed into the third portal where there is no time.’
‘You were fortunate.’
Bailey came out of Father Garnette’s room and approached the inspector.
‘That Miss Wade, sir,’ he said, ‘is getting kind of resigned. I think she’s dropped off to sleep.’
Alleyn gazed at Fox and Fox at Alleyn.
‘Cripes!’ said Inspector Fox.
‘Lummie!’ said Inspector Alleyn, ‘I must be in ecstasy myself. I’d quite forgotten her. Lord, I am sorry! Show the lady down, Bailey.’
‘Right oh, sir.’
Father Garnette showed an inclination to hover, but was most firmly removed to his own rooms. He and Miss Wade met on the chancel steps.
‘Ah, you poor soul!’ intoned Father Garnette. ‘Very weary? Very sad?’
Miss Wade looked from Bailey to the priest.
‘Father!’ she whispered. ‘They are not – they don’t suspect –’
‘Courage, dear lady!’ interposed Father Garnette very quickly and loudly. ‘Courage! We are all in good hands. I shall pray for you.’
He hurried past and made for his door, followed by Bailey. Miss Wade looked after him for a moment and then turned towards the steps. She peered shortsightedly into the hall. Alleyn went up to her.
‘I cannot apologize enough for keeping you so long.’
Miss Wade examined him doubtfully, ‘I am sure you were doing your duty, officer,’ she said.
‘You are very kind, madam. Won’t you sit down?’
‘Thank you.’ She sat, very erect, on the edge of one of the chairs.
‘There are certain questions that I must ask,’ began Alleyn, ‘as a matter of official routine.’
‘Yes?’
‘Yes. I’ll be as quick as I can.’
‘Thank you. It will be nice to get home,’ said Miss Wade plaintively. ‘I am distressed by the thought that I have perhaps left my electric heater turned on. I can remember perfectly that I said to myself: “Now I must not forget to turn it off,” but –’
Here Miss Wade stopped short and gazed pensively into space for at least seven seconds.
‘I recollect,’ she said at last, ‘I did turn it off. Shall we commence? You were saying?’
‘That I should like, if I may, to ask you one or two questions.’
‘Certainly. I shall be glad to be of any assistance. I am not at all familiar with the methods of the police, although I have a very dear brother who was an officer in the Cape Mounted Police during the Boer War. He suffered great privations and discomforts and his digestion has never quite recovered.’
Alleyn stooped abruptly and fastened his shoe.
‘The questions, Miss Wade, are these,’ he began when he had straightened up again. ‘First: did you notice any unusual smell when you received the cup from M. de Ravigne?’
‘Let me think. Any odour? Yes,’ said Miss Wade triumphantly, ‘I did. Decidedly. Yes.’
‘Can you describe it?’
‘Indeed I can. Peppermint.’
‘Peppermint!’ ejaculated Alleyn.
‘Yes. And onion. You see Claude, the lad who acted as cupbearer, was bending over me and – and it was rather overwhelming. I have noticed it before and wondered if I should speak to Father about it. Evidently, the lad is passionately fond of these things, and I don’t, I really don’t think it is quite reverent.’
‘I agree,’ said Alleyn hurriedly. ‘Miss Wade, you have said once before this evening that Miss Quayne was not very happy and not very popular. Can you tell me a little more about her? Why was she unpopular?’
‘But you were not here when I said that, officer. I am positive of that because when we were in there waiting – no. I’m not telling the truth – that’s a fib. It was before you came, and it was before that young man went to the telephone and’ – Miss Wade again stared fixedly at the inspector for some seconds – ‘and Father Garnette said to me: “I implore you not to speak like that to the police,” so you see I know you were not here, so how did you know?’
‘Mr Bathgate remembered and told me. Why was Miss Quayne unhappy?’
‘Because she was unpopular,’ said Miss Wade triumphantly.
‘And why was she unpopular, do you think?’
‘Poor thing! I think there was a certain amount of jealousy. I’m afraid that there was, although perhaps I should not say so. Father Garnette seemed to think I should not say so.’
‘I am sure you want to help us.’
‘Oh, yes, of course I do. At least – Would you be good enough to tell me if poor Cara was murdered?’
‘I believe so. It looks like it.’
‘Then if I say that somebody was jealous of her you may grow suspicious and begin to think all sorts of things, and I don’t believe in capital punishment.’
‘Jealousy is not invariably followed by homicide.’
‘Isn’t that precisely what I was saying! So you see!’
‘Mrs Candour,’ said Alleyn thoughtfully, ‘tells me that Miss Quayne was not a particularly striking personality.’