Off with His Head

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Off with His Head Page 28

by Ngaio Marsh


  ‘Begg knew that if the body was found where it lay Stayne would remember how he saw him squatting there. He did the only thing possible. He sent Ernie back to the arena, threw the slasher on the fire and overturned the drum of tar to obliterate any traces of blood. It caught fire. Then he hitched “Crack’s” harness over his own shoulders and returned to the arena. He carried the body in his arms and held the head by the strings of its bag-like mask, both ends of which became bloodstained. All this under cover of the great canvas body.

  ‘At this time the final dance was in progress and the Five Sons were between their audience and the dolmen. “Crack” was therefore masked by the stone and the dancers. Not that he needed any masking. He dropped the body—laid it, like an egg, in the depression behind the dolmen. This accounts for the state it was in when the Andersens found it. Begg leapt with suspicious alacrity at my suggestion that he might have tripped over it or knocked it with the edge of “Crack’s” harness.’

  ‘Oh dear, Aunt Akky!’

  ‘He was careful to help with the removal of the body in order to account for any bloodstains on his clothes. When I told him we would search his clothes for bloodstains, he made his only mistake. His vanity tripped him up. He told us the story of his ferocious exploits in Germany and how, if a man was killed as the Guiser was supposed to have been killed his assailant would be covered in blood. Of course we knew that, but the story told us that Begg had once been involved in unarmed combat with an old peasant and that he had been saved by one of his own men. A hedge-slasher had been involved in that story, too.’

  Alleyn glanced at Dame Alice and Dulcie. ‘Is this altogether too beastly for you?’ he asked.

  ‘Absolutely ghastly,’ Dulcie said. ‘Still,’ she added in a hurry, ‘I’d rather know.’

  ‘Don’t be ’ffected, Dulcie. ’Course you would. So’d I. Go on,’ Dame Alice ordered.

  ‘There’s not much more to tell. Begg hadn’t time to deliberate but he hoped, of course, that with all those swords about it would be concluded that the thing was done while the Guiser lay behind the dolmen. He and Dr Otterly were the only two performers who would be at once ruled out if this theory were accepted. He’s completely callous. I don’t suppose he minded much who might be accused, though he must have known that the only two who would really look likely would be Ernie, with the sharp sword, and Ralph Stayne, who pinched it and made great play slashing it round.’

  ‘But he stuck up for Ernie,’ Dr Otterly said. ‘All through. Didn’t he?’

  Fox sighed heavily. Dame Alice pointed to a magnificent silver punch bowl that was blackening in the smoke on the hearth. He poured the fragrant contents of the saucepan into it and placed it before her.

  Alleyn said: ‘Begg wanted above all things to prevent us finding out about Ernie and the slasher. Once we had an inkling that the Guiser was killed off-stage his improvised plan would go to pot. We would know that he was off-stage and must have been present. He would be able, of course, to say that Ernie killed the Guiser and that he himself, wearing “Crack’s” harness, was powerless to stop him. But there was no knowing how Ernie would behave: Ernie, filled with zeal and believing he had saved his god and wiped out that father-figure who so persistently reappeared, always to Begg’s and Ernie’s undoing. Moreover, there was Mrs Bünz, who had seen Begg strike his blow though she didn’t realize he had struck to kill. He fixed Mrs Bünz by telling her that we suspected her and that there was a lot of feeling against her as a German. Now he’s been arrested, she’s come across with a full statement and will give evidence.’

  ‘What’ll happen?’ Dame Alice asked, beginning to ladle out her punch.

  ‘Oh,’ Alleyn said, ‘we’ve a very groggy case, you know. We’ve only got the undeniable fact, based on medical evidence, that he was dead before Ernie struck. Moreover, in spite of Ernie, there may with luck be the evidence of the actual injury.’

  ‘Larynx,’ Dr Otterly said.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘What,’ Dr Otterly asked, ‘will he plead?’

  ‘His counsel may plump for self-defence. The Guiser went for him and his old unarmed combat training took over. He defended himself instinctively.’

  ‘Mightn’t it be true?’

  ‘The Guiser,’ Alleyn said, ‘was a very small and very old man. But as far as that goes I think Begg’s training did reassert itself. Tickle a dog’s ribs and it scratches itself. There’s Begg’s temperament, makeup, and experience. There are his present financial doldrums, there are his prospects if he can start his petrol station. There’s the Guiser, standing in his path. The Guiser comes at him like an old fury. Up goes the arm in goes the edge of the hand. It was unpremeditated but in my opinion he hit to kill.’

  ‘Will he get off?’ Dr Otterly asked.

  ‘How the bloody hell should I know!’ Alleyn said with some violence. ‘Sorry, Dame Alice.’

  ‘Have some punch,’ said Dame Alice. She looked up at him out of her watery old eyes. ‘You’re an odd sort of feller,’ she remarked. ‘Anybody’d think you were squeamish.’

  II

  Ralph took Camilla to call on his great-aunt.

  ‘We’ll have to face it sooner or later,’ he said, ‘and so will she.’

  ‘I can’t pretend I’m looking forward to it.’

  ‘Darling, she’ll adore you. In two minutes she’ll adore you.’

  ‘Come off it, my sweet.’

  Ralph beamed upon his love and untied the string that secured the wrought-iron gates.

  ‘Those geese!’ Camilla said.

  They were waiting in a solid phalanx.

  ‘I’ll protect you. They know me.’

  ‘And the two bulls on the skyline. The not very distant skyline.’

  ‘Dear old boys, I assure you. Come on.’

  ‘Up the Campions!’ Camilla said, if not the Andersens.’

  ‘Up, emphatically, the Andersens,’ Ralph said and held out his hand.

  She went through the gates.

  The geese did menacing things with their necks. Ralph shook his stick and they hissed back at him.

  ‘Perhaps, darling, if you hurried and I held them at bay—’

  Camilla panted up the drive. Ralph fought a rearguard action. The bulls watched with interest.

  Ralph and Camilla stumbled breathless and hand-fast through the archway and across the courtyard. They mounted the steps. Ralph tugged at the phoney bell. It set up a clangour that caused the geese to scream, wheel and waddle indignantly away.

  ‘That’s done it,’ Ralph said and put his arm round Camilla.

  They stood with their backs to the door and looked across the courtyard. The snow had gone. Grey and wet were the walls and wet the ground. Beyond the rear archway stood a wintry hill, naked trees and a windy sky.

  And in the middle of the courtyard was the dolmen; very black, one heavy stone supported by two others. It looked expectant.

  ‘Nine men’s morris is filled up with mud,y Camilla murmured.

  ‘There were nine,’ Ralph said. ‘Counting Mrs Bünz.’

  ‘Well,’ she said under her breath, ‘that’s the last of the Mardian Morris of the Five Sons, isn’t it?’

  ‘Think so?’

  ‘Ralph! No one, not the boys, or you or Dr Otterly can ever want to do it again: ever, ever, ever. Can you? Can you?’

  Ralph was saved from answering by Dulcie, who opened the great door behind them.

  ‘How do you do?’ Dulcie said to Camilla. ‘Do come in. Aunt Akky’ll be delighted. She’s been feeling rather flat after all the excitement.’ Ralph gently propelled Camilla into the hall. Dulcie shut the door.

  ‘Aunt Akky,’ she said, ‘does so like things to happen. She’s been saying what a long time it seems to next Sword Wednesday.’

  BY THE SAME AUTHOR

  A Man Lay Dead

  Enter a Murderer

  The Nursing Home Murder

  Death in Ecstasy

  Vintage Murder

  Artists in
Crime

  Death in a White Tie

  Overture to Death

  Death at the Bar

  Surfeit of Lampreys

  Death and the Dancing Footman

  Colour Scheme

  Died in the Wool

  Final Curtain

  Swing, Brother, Swing

  Opening Night

  Spinsters in Jeopardy

  Scales of Justice

  Off With His Head

  Singing in the Shrouds

  False Scent

  Hand in Glove

  Dead Water

  Death at the Dolphin

  Clutch of Constables

  When in Rome

  Tied up in Tinsel

  Black As He’s Painted

  Last Ditch

  Grave Mistake

  Photo-Finish

  Light Thickens

  Black Beech and Honeydew (autobiography)

  Copyright

  HARPER

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  Published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2009

  FIRST EDITION

  Off With His Head first published in Great Britain by Collins 1957

  Ngaio Marsh asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of these works

  Copyright © Ngaio Marsh Ltd 1956

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  EPub Edition © OCTOBER 2009 ISBN: 978-0-007-34472-7

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