Corin and Corinna were seated on either side of the fireplace and appeared to be dejected. Giles, looking tired, was with them. All three of the young people looked towards the door when Dame Beatrice entered. Giles and Corin stood up politely, but Corinna, with an exclamation, went towards her.
'The very person!' she said. 'A very present help in time of trouble, as the psalmist said.'
'He wasn't talking about Aunt Adela,' said Corin dispiritedly.
'We may as well unload the trouble, anyway,' said his sister. 'Have a seat, Aunt Adela, and hear us our prayers.'
'It might be more to the point were I to hear your confessions,' said Dame Beatrice. 'I take it that you have news of Willoughby.'
'What on earth makes you think that?' demanded Corinna, suddenly looking agitated. 'What can have put such an idea into your head?' She ruffled the short hair on her own head until it stood almost on end. Her brother put his face between his hands and groaned.
'Now you have torn it!' he said. 'I knew you would!'
'No, I haven't. Somebody had to know, and Aunt Adela is much the best person, because she'll tell us what to do.'
'If you have found out anything about Willoughby, the people who need to know are the police,' said Dame Beatrice. 'As they are in the house at this very moment, there is nothing to prevent you from waylaying them as they leave and cleansing your bosoms of this perilous stuff.'
'Well, there you are,' said Corinna. That's what I've been saying all along.'
'But they may suspect us of killing him,' exclaimed her twin. 'I would agree if Hubert's body hadn't already been found.'
'Well, we didn't kill Hubert, or Willoughby, so what?'
Dame Beatrice interposed.
'Am I to be let into the secret, or am I not?' she demanded. 'Having said so much, would it not be better to tell me all?'
The twins looked at one another, and Corin shook his head. His unkempt hair fell across his brown face. He looked like Mowgli, Dame Beatrice thought, with his expression of wariness, animal shyness and a kind of innocent cunning. He was, according to the fashion of the day, a handsome, attractive boy.
'I'm not saying anything more,' he said truculently. 'Corinna, blast her, has given you a nod and a wink, so now it's up to you.'
'But she isn't a blind horse!' said Giles quietly. 'Don't you see we can't leave it like this? It would have been better to say nothing at all.'
'Which is what I wanted. You know it is! We've argued about it enough! Corinna will rush in and say things in a panic. Shut up, Corinna! Believe me, I know what's best.'
'Very well. I'm sorry, Aunt Adela, very sorry, but if Corin won't listen to reason, well, he won't.'
'He can't afford to,' muttered Corin. 'In a case of murder, it isn't a good thing to know too much.'
'Well, that would appear to be that,' said Dame Beatrice equably. 'You surely do not mean that Willoughby has been murdered, too, and that you have seen the body? Do you want someone else-myself, for preference-to report it?'
'Oh, no! Goodness me, no!' cried Corinna. 'It's not that at all! No, really, Aunt Adela, it's nothing as bad as that!'
'Look here,' said Giles, 'having said so much, don't you think it might be better to say the rest?'
'No, I don't! I've changed my mind. Oh, dear!' cried Corinna, pushing her hand through her short, fair hair. 'After all, it's not as though we've seen or, really, heard anything-anything which points to anybody's wickedness, I mean-so it would be awful of us to say anything. Anyway, we've got no proof.'
'No proof of who must have murdered Hubert, no,' said her cousin, 'but we can trust Great-aunt to do the best thing. I suggest we tell her, and then leave it to her.'
'We can't tell her something that I was told in confidence. I'm sorry I ever suggested we should.'
'You know,' said Giles, 'on thinking it over, I'm inclined to agree with Corinna. What she was told-in confidence, as she says-doesn't really amount to a hill of beans. It proves nothing except that people can be mistaken, or that they think they know something when, all the time, they don't. I don't think we ought to point the finger. The truth will come out at some time or another. It isn't for us to dirty our hands.'
'That's what I've been saying all along,' said Corin.
'On the other hand,' said Corinna, wavering, 'perhaps we should tell Great-aunt and leave her to see what she makes of it. After all, she's had lots of experience of these things, and we don't owe all that much to old Romilly.'
'It may not concern him,' said Giles. 'He may have had nothing to do with it. He talked as though he was as surprised as anybody.'
'He's a cagey old bird,' said Corin. 'I wouldn't trust him an inch. We really know nothing about him.'
'I myself,' admitted Dame Beatrice, 'knew nothing about him either before I was invited here.'
'Did he make you any promises?' asked Corin. 'Poor old Humphrey was livid about that job he was promised...'
'Not a job; only an interview, wasn't it?' said Giles. 'I'm not too pleased with Romilly myself.'
'He lent you a horse.'
'He promised to lend me enough to buy a share in some racing-stables.'
'Tancred isn't very pleased with him, either,' said Corinna, forgetting her agitation and beginning to giggle. 'He's terribly funny when he's cross. But you haven't given Great-aunt a chance to answer the question. Do tell us, Aunt Adela. Did he promise you anything?'
'Not in the sense you mean, but I feel that my visit here has been amply rewarded. I have made the acquaintance of Rosamund.'
'How delightful for you,' said Corin ironically. 'To my mind, she's just about the most fishy young female I've ever encountered. I'm pretty sure that at some time or other she's been on the stage. She's the hammiest half-baked pro who ever gave up the business to become an old man's darling. Once you've been on the stage yourself, you can't be deceived by another who has ever worn the buskins.'
'I myself have sometimes thought that Rosamund was putting on the motley for our benefit. How long have you known Romilly Lestrange?' asked Dame Beatrice, apparently changing the subject. 'You say you know nothing about him, and you are certainly not old enough to have known him before he emigrated to Kenya. I wonder whether Luke was in service with him there?'
'It's no good, Great-aunt Adela,' said Corinna, looking alarmed. 'You can't get us back to the subject of-to the subject that way. We're not going to say any more. It's my secret, and, although I've told the boys about it, they can't, in decency, give it away unless I agree, and I don't agree, and I'm sorry I said as much as I did. Corin's right, I am a panicky fool.'
'I myself had come to the conclusion that there is a secret,' said Dame Beatrice, 'and I have already set my wits to work. You see, perhaps there are three other wise monkeys in this house besides yourselves.' She leered benignly at Corinna, who said, nervously:
'Maybe there are, and maybe there aren't, but, if there are, I don't believe they'll be much inclined to talk, either. It isn't their business, anyway. I just got in a panic.'
'You were asking how long we'd known Uncle Romilly,' said Corin, under the impression that he was changing the subject. His sister scowled at him, but he went on: 'Not so very long, actually. We've been here once before, that's all, to what he called his house-warming. He'd just rented Galliard Hall and wanted to show it off.'
'And were all his relatives invited?'
'I suppose all the younger ones were, except for Willoughby and Hubert. At any rate they didn't turn up. Mother and father weren't asked, I do know that, because we had rather a toss-up with mother about it, and grandma sent for us and read us the riot act, and said what a scoundrel Uncle Romilly was. I asked whether he was rich, and she said that his gains, whether considerable or not, were bound to be ill-gotten. I said that wouldn't matter, provided he cut us in on them. She wasn't pleased, and Corinna and I were shown the door, and got very sticky letters from grandma later on.'
'Did you know the late
Felix Napoleon Lestrange?'
'Never heard of him,' said Corin.
'Oh, I have!' exclaimed Corinna. 'Grandma once let fall a derogatory remark about him when I was about ten and she didn't know I was in the room. I had hidden behind the curtains while they were having dinner, in the hope of sneaking out and securing some of the marrons glacés and crystallised ginger and grapes and things, before the servants came in to clear the table.'
'Greedy little beast!' said Corin. 'I don't remember that you shared anything with me. Marrons glacés, indeed!'
'I didn't get what I was after. Pilbrick spotted the bulge behind the curtain and said, "Now just you come out of there, Miss Clotilda, and pop straight up to bed, else I'll tell your mamma about you, see if I don't." Pilbrick was an old beast.'
'Oh, I don't know,' said Corin. 'He lent me five pounds once, when dad had already supplemented my allowance and I dared not go to him for any more. Speak as you find is my motto. Anyway, I'd prefer Pilbrick any day to the Sweeny Todd they've got here.' As he made this statement, he winked conspiratorially at Dame Beatrice. His sister intercepted the wink and confirmed Dame Beatrice's suspicions by shouting:
'You promised! You promised! Don't you dare give me away!'
'Of course I shan't,' said Corin. 'Soit tranquille. Je suis chevalier d'honneur, moi.'
'I've never noticed it. Oh, Lord! I wish that wretched policeman would take himself off. I want to get out of this house! We simply must rehearse that new number, and there isn't a piano in the place except for the one Judith plays, and she won't let us touch that.'
At this moment Kirkby knocked at the door and was invited to come in.
'If you'll give me a list of your theatrical engagements for the next few weeks, sir,' he said, addressing Corin, 'I need not keep you any longer.'
'You mean we can just simply go?' asked Corinna.
'That is what I mean, miss. I see no reason at present to trouble you any further, but I must know where I can find you if I want you. I may say that the same applies to you, Mr Provost. I have your address. You won't change it without letting me know, I hope.'
'Are you leaving the house, then?' asked Giles.
'For the moment, yes, sir, but my enquiries will still be centred on the neighbourhood.'
'Oh, well, of course.'
'I, too, will leave you,' said Dame Beatrice.
'You've nothing to report, I suppose?' asked Kirkby, when he and she were in the hall.
'Ask me again tomorrow. I make no promises, but there is a small matter I wish to investigate. It may lead to nothing, but I have a faint hope that it may be a little bit of help. However, it is not a thing capable of proof, so it can be nothing but a pointer, I fear.'
Hearing their voices, Romilly came into the hall.
'You are off, then, Inspector?' he said. Are we to expect you tomorrow?'
'Not unless anything else turns up, sir. You say you've still no news of Mr Willoughby Lestrange, so there's nothing more I can do until we trace him. You may be wanted when they resume the inquest, sir.'
'Whatever for? I have already identified the body! What more can I do?'
'The poor young gentleman was not in clerical garb, sir. What made you so certain that he was the Reverend Hubert? Did you know him very well?'
'Not to say very well, but well enough to know who he was,' said Romilly. 'Most young clergymen on holiday leave the dog-collar at home nowadays.'
'Oh, yes, sir, that's right, of course. They do.'
'I'll see you to your car,' said Romilly affably. Dame Beatrice waited until he and Kirkby were descending the broken steps which led to the drive, and then she made a bee-line for the kitchen, where lunch was being prepared. She was warmly greeted by Amabel.
'Well, Oi declare now, ef et eddn' Dame Beatrice! Anythen us can do, mum? Be ee stayen or goen?'
'Going, I'm afraid. This is only a flying visit. I wonder whether, when you tidied my room, you found my fountain pen? It was a particular favourite of mine, although I have others. I may have dropped it somewhere else, of course, but, as I wanted to visit Mr Romilly and let him know at first hand how Rosamund was getting on, I thought I would ask you whether you had seen it.'
'No, that Oi haven't, mum, and oi'm sure our Voilert haven't, neether, else her'd have told Oi. Can you get on with they veg, Voilert, whoile Oi goes up to help Dame Beatrice have a search round, loike?'
'Ent no pen up there,' said Violet flatly, 'else Oi'd a-found et, wouldn't Oi? But go up and see, for your satesfaction, loike. Eddn nothen to do but they tetties.'
Arrived in the room which Dame Beatrice had occupied, she told Amabel to close the door.
'Now,' she said loudly, 'if you wouldn't mind having an extra good look round. As I say, it's quite likely I did not leave it here, but I wish to be certain. A fountain pen is such a small thing that it could slip down anywhere.'
'Very good, Dame Beatrice, mum,' said Amabel. 'Let's have the bed to bets first.'
Dame Beatrice allowed her to begin stripping the bed and then she stepped across to the shutter which blocked out the squint. As she did so, there was the slight sound of a door being very softly closed. She darted to her own door, opened it and was in time to see the back of Judith as its owner reached the main staircase. She allowed several seconds to go by, then she tip-toed to the door of the adjoining room. There had been no sound of a key, but the door, it seemed, was self-locking and she found that she could not open it. She went back to her room and said:
'Go on with what you are doing. There is something I want to ask you which I do not wish anyone to overhear. Amabel, you are hiding something from me. At least, you think you are. I am going to tell you what it is, so that, if ever the subject comes up, you will be able to say, with truth, that you did not tell me about it.'
'Oh, no, please, now, Dame Beatrice, mum! Oi don't want to get into no trouble!'
'Were you in service when Mr Romilly gave what he called his house-warming party?'
'When he first took over Galliard Hall? Why, yes, mum, me and Voilert and cook, we was all here, haven been bespoke by Messus Judeth to get the house ready for hem and Messus Trelby.'
'Do you remember who came to the party?'
'Why, the same as this toime, 'cepten for yourself, Dame Beatrice, mum.'
'I see. So the Reverend Mr Lestrange was not present?'
'No, mum. I reckon he weren't envoited.'
'Nor his brother, Mr Willoughby?'
'No, mum. It were loike Oi say.'
'Yes, I see. And the Reverend Hubert and Mr Willoughby were not invited this time, either, were they?'
'Oh, Dame Beatrice, mum, how would Oi know a theng loike that, then? Teddn no business of moine who get envoited to the house!' Her voice held a pleading tone.
'Is it Luke's business, then? Luke takes the letters down to the post-box at the gates, doesn't he?'
'That eddn nothen to do with Oi!' But Amabel looked scared.
'Look, Amabel, a man has been murdered.'
'That eddn nothen to do with Oi, neether!'
'It will be, you know, if you withhold information from the police. Luke made a remark, didn't he, before anything dreadful happened? He meant no harm by it, I'm sure. I want you to tell me what it was.'
Amabel had given up stripping the bed. She now sat down upon the mattress.
'Oi don't want nothen to do with the police,' she said sullenly. 'Oi don't know nothen, so I can't say nothen, can Oi?'
'Then I shall ask Violet.'
'Her won't say nothen, neether. Teddn no business of ourn, I tell ee. Best ee leave et alone.'
'And Luke won't admit to me what he said to you both, of course. Luke is Mr Romilly's creature. Did cook hear the remark Luke passed?'
'No, her was haven her afternoon off.'
'So Luke did pass a remark.'
'You're setten traps for me!'
'I'll tell you what Luke said, if you like. You can conf
irm it, or you can deny it. It will not make the slightest difference because, you see, I know.'
'Well,' said Amabel, 'ef ee knows, ee knows, so what call have ee to bidger-badger me loike thes here? Oi never thought, when Oi just mentioned it casual-loike to Mess Corenna-'
'I won't badger you any more, Amabel. At some time or other-it is immaterial when- Luke overheard Mr Romilly say that he could not understand why the Reverend Hubert and Mr Willoughby had neither turned up nor sent a note of explanation, but Luke remarked to you and Violet that he did not see why they should have done either, since he knew for a fact that neither of them had been sent a note of invitation to join the house-party. That is so, isn't it? He always reads the envelopes before he posts the letters, and he knew that nothing had been sent to Mr Hubert or Mr Willoughby Lestrange. Why, then, should Mr Romilly have appeared so concerned at their non-appearance when he knew perfectly well that they had not been invited? That was the substance of Luke's remark, I think, and that is what you told Miss Corinna, isn't it? Well, you've done more good than harm to Mr Romilly, so do not worry any more about it.'
CHAPTER ELEVEN
OXDANSEN-CROWNER'S QUEST
'He's for a jig, or a tale of bawdry, or he sleeps.'
Hamlet, Prince of Denmark.
(1)
'An odd circumstance has cropped up, Dame Beatrice,' said Kirkby. 'You remember, I suppose, that Mr Romilly Lestrange identified the body as that of Mr-or, rather, the Reverend-Hubert?'
'Indeed I do.'
'Well, it seems much more likely to have been that of his brother, Mr Willoughby.'
'Really?'
'You don't seem particularly surprised. Don't tell me you'd thought so, all along.'
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