Death in a White Tie ra-7

by Ngaio Marsh

  “This was unusual?”

  “Yes, sir. I am M. Dimitri’s personal servant.”

  “Where were you stationed at Marsdon House?”

  A telephone rang in the entrance passage.

  “Excuse me, sir,” said the servant. “The telephone.”

  “That’s all right,” said Alleyn.

  The man went out closing the door softly behind him.

  Alleyn darted into an adjoining bedroom, leaving the door ajar. He opened built-in cupboards, ran his hands between hanging suits, amongst neatly stacked shirts and under-garments, disturbing nothing, exploring everywhere. Thanking his stars that the drawers ran easily he moved with economy, swiftness and extreme precision. The adjoining bedroom was innocently naked. Dimitri’s servant looked after him well. There was no hiding-place anywhere for a bulky cloth cloak. Everything was decently ordered. Alleyn returned silently to the sitting-room. He could hear the servant’s voice:

  “Hullo? Hullo? Yes, sir. I am still here. Yes, sir, that is quite correct. It is as Monsieur Dimitri says, sir. We returned together at three-thirty in a taxi. At three-thirty. No, sir, no. At three-thirty. I am sorry, sir, I will repeat. At three-thirty we return—”

  The sideboard contained only bottles and glasses, the bookcases only books. The desk was locked but it was a small one. Dimitri and his servant were tidy men with few possessions. Alleyn opened the last cupboard. It contained two suitcases. He tipped them gingerly. No sound of anything. He opened them. They were empty. Alleyn shut the cupboard door tenderly and returned to the middle of the sitting-room where he stood with his head slanted, listening to Dimitri’s servant whose voice had risen to a painful falsetto.

  “But I am telling you. Permit me to speak. Your colleague is here. He is about to ask me all these questions himself. He has given me his card. It is the Chief Inspector All-eyne. Ah, mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!”

  Alleyn went into the passage. He found François with his shoulders up to his ears and his unoccupied hand sketching desperation to the air.

  “What is it?” asked Alleyn. “Is it for me?”

  “Here is M. l’Inspecteur!” screamed François into the receiver. “Will you have the goodness—”

  Alleyn addressed the telephone.

  “Hullo!”

  “Hullo there!” Fox’s voice in accents of exasperation.

  “Is that you, Fox? What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing, I hope, Mr Alleyn,” said Fox, falling back on an indistinct mumble.

  “It’s Alleyn, here. There’s been a slight misunderstanding. I have missed Mr Dimitri but will come along as soon as possible. Will you ask him to wait? Apologise for me.”

  “I hope there was time. I’ll get along to the Yard now.”

  “Very well. That’s perfectly all right,” said Alleyn and rang off.

  He returned to the sitting-room followed by François.

  “A slight misunderstanding,” explained Alleyn blandly. “My colleague did not quite follow you. He is unfortunately rather deaf and is about to retire.”

  François muttered.

  “To resume,” said Alleyn. “You were going to tell me where you were stationed last night.”

  “By the top landing, sir. The gallery above the ballroom. My duties were to keep the ash-trays emptied and to attend to the wishes of the guests who sat out dances on this floor.”

  “What are the rooms on this gallery?”

  “At the stairhead, sir, one finds a green baize door leading to the servants’ quarters, the back stairs and so on. Next to this door is a room which last night was employed as a sitting-room. One finds next a bathroom, bedroom and toilet used last night for ladies. Last at the end of the gallery, a green boudoir also used as a sitting-room for the ball.”

  “Was there a telephone in any of these rooms?”

  “In the green boudoir, sir. It was used several times during the evening.”

  “You are an excellent witness, François. I compliment you. Now tell me. You were stationed on this landing. Do you remember the names of the persons who used the telephone?”

  François pinched his lower lip.

  “It was used by Lady Jennifer Trueman to enquire for her little girl who is ill. Her ladyship requested me to get the number for her. It was used by a young gentleman who called a toll number to say that he would not be returning to the country. Early in the evening it was answered by Sir Daniel Davidson, who, I think, is a doctor. He spoke about a patient who had had an operation. It was also used, sir, by Lord Robert Gospell.”

  Alleyn waited a moment. With a sort of astonishment, he realized his heart had quickened.

  “Could you hear what Lord Robert said?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Did you notice if anyone went into the room while Lord Robert was at the telephone?”

  “No, sir. Immediately after Lord Robert entered this room I was summoned by Sir Herbert Carrados who came out of the other sitting-room and spoke to me about the lack of matches. Sir Herbert was annoyed. He sent me into this room to see for myself and ordered me to go at once and fetch more matches. There did not appear to me to be any lack of matches but I did not, of course, say so. I fetched more matches from downstairs. When I returned I went to the telephone-room and found it empty. I attended to the ash-tray and the matches in the telephone-room, also.”

  Alleyn sighed.

  “Yes, I see. I’ve no doubt you made a good job of it. Any cigar-stumps in the telephone-room? You wouldn’t remember, of course.”

  “No, sir.”

  “No. François — who was in the other sitting-room and who was on the landing before Lord Robert telephoned? Before Sir Herbert Carrados sent you away. Can you remember?”

  “I will try, sir. There were two gentlemen who also sent me away.”

  “What?”

  “I mean, sir, that one of them asked me to fetch two whiskies-and-sodas. That is not at all a usual request under the circumstances. It is not even comme il faut at a ball of this sort, where there is champagne at the buffet and also whisky, to order drinks as if it were an hotel. I received the impression that these two gentlemen wished to be alone on the landing. I obtained their drinks, using the back stairs. When I returned I gave them the drinks. At that time, sir, Lord Robert Gospell had just come up the stairs and when they saw him these two gentlemen moved into the first sitting-room which was unoccupied.”

  “Do you mean that they seemed to avoid him?”

  “I received the impression, sir, that these gentlemen wished to be alone. That is why I remember them.”

  “Their names?”

  “I do not know their names.”

  “Can you describe them?”

  “One, sir, was a man perhaps forty-five or fifty years of age. He was a big man with a red face and thick neck. His voice was an unsympathetic voice. The other was a young gentleman, dark, rather nervous. I observed that he danced repeatedly with Miss Bridget O’Brien.”

  “Thank you,” said Alleyn. “That is excellent Any others?”

  “I cannot recall any others, sir. Wait! There was someone who was there for some time.”

  François put his first finger to his chin like a sort of male dairymaid and cast his eyes to the ceiling.

  “Tiens!” he exclaimed, “who could it have been? Alors, I have it. It is of no importance at all, sir. It was the little mademoiselle, the secretary, who was known to few and therefore retired often to the gallery. I have remembered too that Sir Daniel Davidson, the physician, came upstairs. That was earlier. Before Lord Robert appeared. I think Sir Daniel looked for a partner because he went quickly in and out of both rooms and looked about the landing. I have remembered now that it was for Lady Carrados he enquired but she had gone downstairs a few minutes earlier. I told Sir Daniel this and he returned downstairs.”

  Alleyn looked over his notes.

  “See now,” he said. “I am right in saying this? The persons who, as far as you know, could have gone into the telephone-r
oom while Lord Robert was using the telephone were Sir Herbert Carrados and the two gentlemen who sent you for whisky.”

  “Yes, sir. And the mademoiselle. Miss Harris is her name. I believe she entered the ladies’ toilet just as Lord Robert went into the telephone-room. I have remarked that when ladies are much disengaged at balls they frequently enter the dressing-room. It is,” added François with an unexpected flash of humanity, “a circumstance that I find rather pathetic.”

  “Yes,” said Alleyn. “Very pathetic. I am right, then, in saying that before Lord Robert went to telephone, you fetched drinks for these two men and immediately after that he began to telephone. You were sent away by Sir Herbert Carrados, leaving him, Miss Harris and possibly others, whom you have forgotten, on the landing, and the two gentlemen in the other sitting-out room. Sir Daniel Davidson had gone downstairs some minutes previously. Lady Carrados before Sir Daniel, who was looking for her. You’re sure of that?”

  “Yes, sir. It is in my memory because after her ladyship had gone I entered the telephone-room and saw she had left her bag there. Monsieur — Mr Dimitri — came up at that time, saw it, and said he would return it to her ladyship. I told him she had gone downstairs and he returned, I think, by the back stairs.”

  “He fits in between Lady Carrados and Sir Daniel. Did he return?”

  “No, sir. I believe, sir, that I have mentioned everyone who was on the landing. At that time nearly all the guests were at supper. Later, of course, many ladies used the cloakroom toilet.”

  “I see. Now for the rest of the evening. Did you see Lord Robert again?”

  “No, sir. I remained on the top landing until the guests had gone, I then took a tray to Monsieur in the butler’s pantry.”

  “Was this long after the last guest had left?”

  “No, sir. To be correct, sir, I fancy there may still have been one or two left in the hall. Monsieur was in the buffet when I came down.”

  “Was Sir Herbert Carrados in the buffet?”

  “He left as I entered. It was after he left that Monsieur ordered his little supper.”

  “When did you go home?”

  “As I have explained to your colleague, at three-thirty, with Monsieur. The police rang up this flat before Monsieur had gone to bed.”

  “You carried Monsieur Dimitri’s luggage for him, no doubt?”

  “His luggage, sir? He had no luggage.”

  “Right. I think that is all. You have been very helpful and obliging.”

  François took his tip with a waiter’s grace and showed Alleyn out.

  Alleyn got a taxi. He looked at his watch. Twenty past twelve. He hoped Fox was keeping Dimitri for him. Dimitri! Unless François lied, it looked as if the odds against Dimitri being the murderer were lengthening.

  “And the worst of it is,” muttered Alleyn, rubbing his nose, “that I think François, blast his virtue, spoke nothing but the truth.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Dimitri Cuts His Fingers

  In his room at the Yard Alleyn found Dimitri closeted with Fox. Fox introduced them solemnly.

  “This is Mr Dimitri; Chief Detective-Inspector Alleyn, who is in charge of this case.”

  “Ah, yes?” said Dimitri bowing. “I believe we have met before.”

  Alleyn said: “I have just come from your flat, Mr Dimitri. I was up that way and hoped to save you a journey. I was, however, too late. I saw your servant and ventured to ask him one or two questions. He was most obliging.”

  He smiled pleasantly at Dimitri and thought: “He’s looking sulky. Not a good head. Everything’s a bit too narrow. He’s got a mean look. No fool, though. Expensive clothes, fishy hands, uses a lot of hair oil. Honey and flowers. Ears set very low. No lobes to them. Less than an eye’s width between the two eyes. I fancy the monocle is a dummy. Dents by the nostrils. False teeth. A smooth gentleman.”

  Dimitri said: “Your colleague has already rung my servant, Mr Alleyn.”

  “Yes,” said Fox. “I just checked up the time Mr Dimitri left. I’ve been explaining, sir, that we realize Mr Dimitri doesn’t want to appear more than can be avoided.”

  “In my position, Chief Inspector,” said Dimitri, “it is most undesirable. I have been seven years building up my business and it is a specialized business. You understand that I have an extremely good clientèle. I may say the very best. It is essential to my business that my clients should have complete faith in my discretion. But essential! In my position one sees and hears many things.”

  “I have no doubt of that,” said Alleyn, looking steadily at him. “Things that with a less discreet, less scrupulous person, might be turned to advantage.”

  “That is a dreadful thought, Mr Alleyn. One cannot with equanimity contemplate such a base idea. But I must tell you that in my business the finest shades of discretion must be observed.”

  “As in ours. I shall not ask you to repeat any scandals, Mr Dimitri. We will confine ourselves to the simplest facts. Your own movements, for instance.”

  “Mine?” asked Dimitri, raising his eyebrows.

  “If you please. We are anxious to get a little information about a small green boudoir on the top gallery at Marsdon House. It has a telephone in it. Do you know the room I mean?”

  “Certainly,” The sharp eyes were veiled, the mouth set in a thin line.

  “Did you at any time visit this room?”

  “Repeatedly. I make it my business to inspect all the rooms continually.”

  “The time in which we are interested is about one o’clock this morning. Most of Lady Carrados’s guests were at supper. Captain Maurice Withers and Mr Donald Potter were on this top landing. So was your servant, François. Do you remember going upstairs at this time?”

  Dimitri spread out his hands.

  “It is impossible for me to remember, I am so very sorry.” He removed his rimless eyeglass and began to turn it between the fingers and thumb of his left hand.

  “Let me try to help you. I learnt that at about this time you returned Lady Carrados’s bag to her. One of the guests noticed you. Where did you find this bag, Mr Dimitri? Perhaps that will help.”

  Dimitri suddenly put his hands in his pockets and Alleyn knew that it was an unfamiliar gesture. He could see that the left hand was still secretly busy with the eyeglass.

  “That is correct. I seem to think the bag was in the room you mention. I am very particular about such things. My servants may not touch any bags that are left lying about the rooms. It is incredible how careless many ladies are with their bags, Mr Alleyn. I make it a rule that only I myself return them. Thus,” said Dimitri virtuously, “am I solely responsible.”

  “It might be quite a grave responsibility. So the bag was in the green room. Anybody there?”

  “My servant François. I trust there was nothing missing from this bag?” asked Dimitri with an air of alarm. “I asked her ladyship to be good enough to look at it.”

  “Her ladyship,” said Alleyn, “has made no complaint.”

  “I am extremely relieved. For a moment I wondered — however.”

  “The point is this,” said Alleyn, “At one o’clock Lord Robert telephoned from this little green room. My informant is not your servant, Mr Dimitri. I must make that clear. At this time I think he was downstairs. My informant tells me that you were on the landing. Perhaps it was shortly after you collected Lady Carrados’s bag.”

  “If it was I did not hear anything of it,” said Dimitri instantly. “Your informant is himself misinformed. I did not see Lord Robert on this gallery. I did not notice him at all until he was leaving.”

  “You saw him then?”

  “Yes. He enquired if I had seen Mrs Halcut-Hackett. I informed his lordship that she had left.”

  “This was in the hall?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you see Lord Robert leave?”

  There was a marked pause and then Dimitri said:

  “I have already explained all this to your colleague. After s
peaking to his lordship I went to the buffet on the ground floor. I remained there for a time speaking to Sir Herbert Carrados.”

  Alleyn took a piece of paper from his pocket-book and handed it to Dimitri.

  “This is the order of departure amongst the last guests. We have got our information from several sources. Mr Fox was greatly helped in compiling it by his interview with you earlier this morning. Would you mind glancing at it?”

  Dimitri surveyed the list.

  “It is correct, as far as I can remember, up to the time I left the hall.”

  “I believe you saw the encounter at the foot of the stairs between Lord Robert and his nephew, Mr Donald Potter?”

  “It was scarcely an encounter. They did not speak.”

  “Did you get the impression that they avoided each other?”

  “Mr Alleyn, we have already spoken of the need for discretion. Of course, one understands this is a serious matter. Yes. I did receive this impression.”

  “Right. Then before you went to the buffet you noticed Mrs Halcut-Hackett, Captain Withers, Mr Potter and Sir Daniel Davidson leave separately, and in that order?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know Captain Withers?”

  “Professionally? No. He does not entertain, I imagine.”

  “Who left the buffet first, you or Sir Herbert?”

  “I really do not remember. I did not remain very long in the buffet.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “I was fatigued. I made certain that my staff was working smoothly and then my servant brought me a light supper to the butler’s pantry which I had reserved for my office.”

  “How long was this after Lord Robert left?”

  “I really do not know. Not long.”

  “Did François remain in the butler’s pantry?”

  “Certainly not.”

  “Did anyone come in while you were there?”

  “I do not remember.”

  “If, on reflection, you do recall any witness to your solitary supper-party it would help us in our work and free you from further embarrassment.”

  “I do not understand you. Do you attempt to establish my alibi in this most regrettable and distressing fatality? Surely it is obvious that I could not have been in a taxi-cab with Lord Robert Gospell and in the buffet at Marsdon House at the same moment.”