by Ngaio Marsh
“Yes. But I’m innocent. My God, I tell you I had no opportunity. I can give you an account of every moment of the day.”
“When you were at the hall with Mrs. Ross, did you not leave her to go down to the auditorium?”
“Why should I?”
“Mrs. Ross told me you shut one of the windows.”
“Yes. I’d forgotten. Yes, I did.”
“But if Mrs. Ross says she had shut the window herself in the morning?”
“I know. We couldn’t make it out.”
“You noticed the open window, shut it, returned to the stage, and lowered the curtain?”
“Did she tell you that!”
Templett suddenly collapsed into the chair behind him and buried his face in his hands. “My God,” he said. “I’ve been a fool. What a fool!”
“They say it happens once to most of us,” said Alleyn unexpectedly and not unkindly. “Did Mrs. Ross not mention at the time that she thought she had already shut the window.”
“Yes, yes, yes. She said so. But the window was open. It was opened about three inches. How can I expect you to believe it? You think I lowered the curtain, went to the piano, and fixed this bloody trap. I tell you I didn’t.”
“Why did you lower the curtain?”
Templett looked at his hands.
“Oh, God,” he said. “Have we got to go into all that?”
“I see,” said Alleyn. “No, I don’t think we need. There was a scene that would have compromised you both if anybody had witnessed it?”
“Yes.”
“Did you at any time speak about the letter?”
“She asked me if I’d found out: I may as well tell you I’ve got a note somewhere from Miss Campanula. I thought I’d compare the paper. I’d been so rushed during the day I hadn’t had time. That’s why I didn’t destroy the thing.”
“When you opened the window did you look out?”
“What? Yes. Yes. I think I did.” There was a curious note of uncertainty in his voice.
“Have you remembered something?”
“What’s the good! It sounds like something I’ve made up at the last moment.”
“Let us have it anyway.”
“Well, she caught sight of the window. She noticed it first; saw it over my shoulder, and got an impression that there was something that dodged down behind the sill. It was only a flash, she said. I thought it was probably one of those damned scouts. When I got to the window I looked out. There was nobody there.”
“Were you upset by the discovery of an eavesdropper?”
Templett shrugged his shoulders.
“Oh, what’s the good!” he said. “Yes, I suppose we were.”
“Who was this individual?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“But didn’t Mrs. Ross say who it was? She must have had some impression.”
“Ask her if you must,” he said violently. “I can’t tell you.”
“When you looked out they had gone,” murmured Alleyn. “But you looked out.”
He watched Dr. Templett, and Blandish and Fox watched him. Fox realised that they had reached a climax. He knew what Alleyn’s next question would be, he saw Alleyn raise one eyebrow and screw his mouth sideways before he asked his question.
“Did you look down?” asked Alleyn.
“Yes.”
“And you saw?”
“There was a box under the window.”
“Ah!” It was the smallest sigh. Alleyn seemed to relax all over. He smiled to himself and pulled out his cigarette case.
“That seemed to suggest,” said Templett, “that somebody had stood there, using the box. It wasn’t there when I got to the hall because I went round that way to get the key.”
Alleyn turned to Fox.
“Have you asked them about the box?”
“Yes, sir. Mr. Jernigham, Miss Prentice, every kid in the village, and all the helpers. Nobody knows anything about it.”
“Good,” said Alleyn, heartily.
For the first time since they got there, Dr. Templett showed some kind of interest.
“Is it important?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Alleyn. “I think it’s of the first importance.”
“You knew about this box?” asked Templett after a pause.
“Yes, why don’t you smoke, Dr. Templett?” Alleyn held out his case.
“Are you going to charge me?”
“No. Not on present information.”
Templett took a cigarette and Alleyn lit it for him.
“I’m in a hell of a mess,” said Templett. “I see that.”
“Yes,” agreed Alleyn. “One way and another you’ve landed yourself in rather a box.” But there was something in his manner that drove the terror out of Templett’s eyes.
Smith came in with the transcript.
“Sergeant Roper’s outside, sir,” he said. “He came down with Mr. Bathgate and wants to see you particular.”
“He can wait,” said Blandish. “He’s wanted to see me particular about ten times a day ever since we got busy.”
“Yes, sir. Will I leave this transcript?”
“Leave it here,” said Blandish, “and wait outside.” When Smith had gone Blandish spoke to Dr. Templett for the first time that evening.
“I’m very sorry about this, doctor.”
“That’s all right,” said Templett.
“I think Mr. Alleyn will agree with me that if it’s got no bearing on the case we’ll do our best to bury it.”
“Certainly,” said Alleyn.
“I don’t care much what happens,” said Templett.
“Oh, come now, doctor,” said Blandish comfortably, “you mustn’t say that.”
But Alleyn saw a gay little drawing-room with a delicate straw-coloured lady, whose good nature did not stretch beyond a very definite point, and he thought he understood Dr. Templett.
“I think,” he said, “you had better give us a complete time-table of your movements from two-thirty on Friday up to eight o’clock last night. We shall check it, but we’ll make the process an impersonal sort of business.”
“But for those ten minutes in the hall, I’m all right,” said Templett. “God, I was with her all the time, until I shut the window! Ask her how long it took! I wasn’t away two minutes over the business. Surely to God she’ll at least bear me out in that. She’s nothing to lose by it.”
“She shall be asked,” said Alleyn.
Templett began to give the names of all the houses he had visited on his rounds. Fox took them down. Alleyn suddenly asked Blandish to find out how long the Pen Cuckoo telephone had been disconnected by the falling branch. Blandish rang up the exchange. “From eight-twenty until the next morning.”
“Yes,” said Alleyn. “Yes.”
Dr. Templett’s voice droned on with its flat recital of time and place.
“Yes, I hunted all day Friday. I got home in time to change and go to the five o’clock rehearsal. The servants can check that. When I got home again I found this urgent message…I was out till after midnight. Mrs. Bains at Mill Farm. She was in labour twenty-four hours…yes…”
“May I interrupt?” asked Alleyn. “Yesterday morning, at Pen Cuckoo, Mrs. Ross did not leave the car?”
“No.”
“Were you shown into the study?”
“Yes.”
“You were there alone?”
“Yes,” said Templett, showing the whites of his eyes.
“Dr. Templett, did you touch the box with the automatic?”
“Before God, I didn’t.”
“One more question. Last night did you use all your powers of authority and persuasion to induce Miss Prentice to allow Miss Campanula to take her place?”
“Yes, but—she wouldn’t listen to me.”
“Will you describe again how you found her?”
“I told you last night. I came in late. I thought Dinah would be worried and after I’d changed, I went along to the women’
s dressing-room to show her I was there. I heard some one snivelling and moaning, and through the open door I saw Miss Prentice in floods of tears, rocking backwards and forwards and holding her hand. I went in and looked at it. No doctor in his senses would have let her thump the piano. She couldn’t have done it. I told her so, but she kept on saying, ‘I will do it. I will do it.’ I got angry and spoke my mind. I couldn’t get any further with her. It was damned near time we started and I wasn’t even made-up.”
“So you fetched Miss Copeland and her father, knowing the rector would possibly succeed where you had failed.”
“Yes. But I tell you it was physically impossible for her to use her finger. I could have told her that—”
He stopped short.
“Yes? You could have told her that, how long ago?” said Alleyn.
“Three days ago.”
Smith returned.
“It’s Sergeant Roper, sir. He says it’s very particular indeed and he knows Mr. Alleyn would want to hear it.”
“Blast!” said Blandish. “All right, all right.”
Smith left the door open. Alleyn saw Nigel crouched over an anthracite stove and Roper, sweating and expectant, in the middle of the room.
“Righ-oh, Roper,” said Smith audibly. Roper hurriedly removed his helmet, cleared his throat, and marched heavily into the room.
“Well, Roper?” said Blandish.
“Sir,” said Roper, “I have a report.” He took his official note-book from a pocket in his tunic and opened it, bringing it into line with his nose. He began to read very rapidly in a high voice.
“This afternoon, November 28th, at 4 p.m. being on duty at the time outside the parish hall of Winton St Giles I was approached and accosted by a young female. She was well-known to me being by name Gladys Wright (Miss) of Top Lane, Winton. The following conversation eventuated. Miss Wright enquired of me if I was waiting for my girl or my promotion. Myself (P.S. Roper): I am on duty, Miss Wright, and would take it kindly if you would pass along the lane. Miss Wright: Look what our cat’s brought in. P.S. Roper: And I don’t want no lip or saucy boldness. Miss Wright: I could tell you something and I’ve come along to do it, but seeing you’re on duty maybe I’ll keep it for your betters. P.S. Roper: If you know anything, Gladys, you’d better speak up for the law comes down with majesty on them that aids and abets and withholds. Miss Wright: What will you give me? The succeeding remarks are not evidence and bear no connection with the matter in hand. They are therefore omitted.”
“What the hell did she tell you?” asked Blandish. “Shut that damned book and come to the point.”
“Sir, the girl told me in her silly way that she came down to the hall at six-thirty on yesterday evening being one of them selected to usher. She let herself in and finding herself the first to arrive, living nearby and not wishing to return home, the night being heavy rain with squalls and her hair being artificially twisted up with curls which to my mind—”
“What did she tell you?”
“She told me that at six-thirty she sat down as bold as brass and played ‘Nearer my Gawd to Thee’ with the soft pedal on,” said Roper.
CHAPTER TWENTY
According to Miss Wright
SERGEANT ROPER, SWEATING lightly, allowed an expression of extreme gratification to suffuse his enormous face. The effect of his statement on his superiors left nothing to be desired. Superintendent Blandish stared at his sergeant like a startled codfish, Detective-Inspector Fox pushed his glasses up his forehead and brought his hands down smartly on his knees. Dr. Templett uttered in a whisper a string of amazing blasphemies. Chief Inspector Alleyn pulled his own nose, made a peculiar grimace, and said:
“Roper, you shall be hung with garlands, led through the village, and offered up at the Harvest Festival.”’
“Thank you, sir,” said Roper.
“Where,” asked Alleyn, “is Gladys Wright?”
Roper flexed his knees and pointed with his thumb over his shoulder.
“Stuck to her like glue, I have. I telephoned Fife from the hall to relieve me, keeping the silly maiden under observation the while. I brought her here, sir, on the bar of my bike, all ten stones of her, and seven mile if it’s an inch.”
“Magnificent. Bring her in, Roper.”
Roper went out.
“I didn’t get there till half-past seven,” whispered Dr. Templett, shaking his finger at Alleyn. “Not till half-past seven. You see! You see! The hall was full of people. Ask Dinah Copeland. She’ll tell you I never went on the stage. Ask Copeland. He was sitting on the stage. I saw him through the door when I called him down. Ask any of them. My God!”
Alleyn reached out a long arm and gripped his wrist. “Steady, now,” he said. “Fox, there’s the emergency flask in that case.”
He got Templett to take the brandy before Roper returned.
“Miss Gladys Wright, sir,” said Roper, flinging back the door and expanding his chest.
He shepherded his quarry into the room with watchful pride, handed her over, and retired behind the door to wipe his face down excitedly with the palm of his hand.
Miss Wright was the large young lady whom Alleyn had encountered in the rectory hall. Under a mackintosh she wore a plushy sort of dress with a hint of fur about it. Her head was indeed a mass of curls. Her face was crimson and her eyes black.
“Good-evening, Miss Wright,” said Alleyn. “I’m afraid we’ve put you to a lot of trouble. Will you sit down?”
He gave her his own chair and sat on the edge of the desk.
Miss Wright backed up to the chair rather in the manner of a draught-horse, got half-way towards sitting on it, but thought better of this, and giggled.
“Sergeant Roper tells us you’ve got some information for us,” continued Alleyn.
“Aw him!” said Miss Wright. She laughed and covered her mouth with her hand.
“Now I understand that you arrived at the parish hall at half-past six last night. Is that right?”
“That’s right.”
“Sure of the time?”
“Yass,” said Miss Wright. “I heard the clock strike, see?”
“Good. How did you get in?”
“I got the key from outside and came in by the back door,” said Miss Wright, and looked at the floor. “Miss Dinah was soon after me.”
“Nobody else was in the hall. You switched on the light, I suppose?”
“Yas, that’s right.”
“What did you do next?”
“Well, I looked round, like.”
“Yes. Have a good look round?”
“Aaw, yaas, I suppose so.”
“Back and front of the stage, what? Yes. And then?”
“I took off my mac, and put out my programmes, like, and counted up my change, see, for selling.”
“Yes?”
“Aw deer,” said Miss Wright, “it does give me such a turn when I think about it.”
“I’m sure it does.”
“You know! When you think! What I was saying to Charley Roper, you never know. And look, I never thought of it till this afternoon at the Children’s Service. I was collecting up hymnbooks and it come all over me, so when I see Charley Roper hanging about outside the hall, I says, ‘Pardon me, Mr. Roper,’ I says, ‘but I have a piece of information I feel it my duty to pass on.’ ”
“Very proper,” said Alleyn, with a glance at Roper.
“Yass, and I told him. I told him I might be laying where she is, seeing what I did!”
“What did you do?”
“I sat down and played a hymn on that rickety old affair. Aw, well!”
“Did you play loudly or softly?”
“Well, well, both, ackshully. I was seeing which pedal worked best on that shocking old affair, see?”
“Yes,” said Alleyn. “I see. Did you put the pedal on suddenly and hard?”
“Aw no. Because one time the soft pedal went all queer because Cissie Dewry put her foot on it, so we always use it gentle-like.
I didn’t try it but the bare once. The loud one worked better,” said Miss Wright.
“Yes,” agreed Alleyn. “I expect it would.”
“Well, it did,” confessed Miss Wright, and giggled again.
“But you did actually press the soft pedal down?” insisted Alleyn.
“Yass. Firm like. Not sharp.”
“Exactly. Was there a piece of music on the rack?”
“Oo yass, Miss Prentice’s piece. I never touched it. Truly!”
“I’m sure you didn’t. Miss Wright, suppose you were in a court of law, and someone put a Bible in your hand, and you were asked to swear solemnly in God’s name that at about twenty to seven last night you put your foot firmly on the left pedal, would you swear it?”
Miss Wright giggled.
“It’s very important,” said Alleyn. “You see, there would be a prisoner in the court on trial for murder. Please think very carefully indeed. Would you make this statement on oath?”
“Oh yass,” said Miss Wright.
“Thank you,” said Alleyn. He looked at Templett. “I don’t think we need keep you, Dr. Templett, if you are anxious to get home.”
“I—I’ll drive you back,” said Templett.
“That’s very nice of you—I shan’t be long.” He turned back to Gladys Wright. “Did any one come in while you were playing?”
“I stopped when I heard them coming. Cissie Dewry come first and then all the other girls.”
“Did you notice any of the performers?”
“No. We was all talking round the door, like.” She rolled her eyes at Roper. “That was when you come, Mr. Roper.”
“Well, Roper?”
“They were in the entrance, sir, giggling and cackling in their female manner, sure enough.”
“Oo you are,” said Miss Wright.
“And had any of the company arrived at that time?”
“Yes, sir,” said Roper. “Miss Copeland was there ahead of me, but she went to the back door same as all the performers, I don’t doubt. And the Pen Cuckoo party was there, sir, but I didn’t know that till I went round to back of stage when I found them bedizening their faces in the Sunday-school rooms.”
“So that there was a moment when the ladies were at the front door, talking, and the Pen Cuckoo party and Miss Copeland were behind the scenes?”