Dance to Your Daddy mb-42

by Gladys Mitchell

  'But, if Humphrey bullies the boys as much as he bullies her, I don't see much future for the school with him as headmaster.'

  'I think you will find that nothing is further from Humphrey's thoughts. It is no longer in the interests of preparatory schools for the headmaster to bully the boys, or to permit them to bully one another. Humphrey bullies Binnie because he is a thwarted, frustrated man and therefore is easily irritated. Binnie is irritating because she has always had far too little to occupy her mind...'

  'Such as it is!'

  'Very well-such as it is-and not nearly enough money to gratify her not unreasonable requirements. She is quite a pretty woman, and it irks her that she cannot dress prettily. I think you will find that everything will work out quite well, the marriage included. Nothing fails like failure, and now Humphrey will prove that nothing succeeds like success.'

  'It's your pigeon, not mine, thank goodness, but why concentrate on Humphrey and Binnie?'

  'Because they can further my plans. Altruism, as such, is not a feature of my character.'

  'Thank heaven for that! If there's anybody I hate and distrust, it's an indiscriminating do-gooder, and I never did seem to see you in such a fearsome role.'

  'Thank you. As soon as Humphrey and Binnie have seen the school and (I hope) approved of it, I think we may place Rosamund in their charge. Then for the second hearing before the magistrates. After that, we can decide what to do for the best.'

  'If the magistrates throw out the case, as you seem to think they will, it won't do for Romilly to find out where Rosamund is.'

  'Part of the bargain between myself and Humphrey will deal with that question. Have no fear for Rosamund's safety. I shall have none.

  'Unless she gets some notion about running away from the school, the same as she did from my people at Moy.'

  'Ah, well, whom the gods intend to destroy, they first make mad. At any rate, she will be safer with Humphrey and Binnie, in a place of which Romilly has never heard, than with us here, or even with your parents in Scotland.'

  'You're so certain that the magistrates are going to dismiss the case against Romilly, aren't you? And you are equally certain that Romilly and Willoughby have never met.'

  'I am not certain of it, and, as I said before, I cannot be certain until Hubert and Romilly have met.'

  'I should say it's a foregone conclusion they've met. Rosamund should know. If they met nowhere else, they met at old Felix Napoleon's funeral. Ask Rosamund about it again. Didn't she say that Hubert conducted the funeral service? Willoughby, as the old man's secretary, would certainly have been present, too.'

  'Ah, but we cannot show that Romilly was at the funeral, you see.'

  'Oh, come, now! If he hadn't been, would Rosamund have gone off with him afterwards to Galliard Hall? She must have been pretty certain of his bona fides if she was willing to do that, surely?'

  'There is much in what you say. However, to a subject of more immediate importance. We went to Scotland at Detective-Inspector Kirkby's request, to bring Rosamund home. He prefers, it seems, to question her on English soil.'

  'Well, I hope she tells him what he wants to know, and I hope it will be the truth. She's a slippery young customer, to put it in the most charitable light, and I don't trust her an inch.'

  'You make no allowance for one who knows that her life is in danger?'

  'Oh, well, if you put it like that... All the same, I feel a violent antipathy to the wench. I suppose it makes me unfair to her, but I can't shake it off. When do you expect Kirkby?'

  'I have already summoned him. He must speak to Rosamund before she takes up residence with Humphrey and Binnie.'

  'For their sakes, you mean.'

  'I have been told that he has already been to see them. They cannot be expected to welcome a second visit from him.'

  Kirkby came that same afternoon. He talked to Rosamund in the presence of Dame Beatrice. This was at the girl's own request.

  'Now, Miss Lestrange, I believe you knew Mr Willoughby Lestrange quite well,' Kirkby began.

  'Well, he was my grandfather's secretary, and at one time I was engaged to be married to him.'

  'Were you engaged at the time of his death?'

  'Oh, no. I-we broke it off.'

  'Why?'

  'Look, what has that to do with Willoughby's death?'

  'I don't know. I am still collecting evidence. It will help me if you will answer my questions. I am groping in the dark, you see.' He smiled reassuringly.

  'Oh, well,' said Rosamund, capitulating to the smile, 'I was afraid grandfather would cut me out of his Will if he found out I was engaged to be married. He didn't approve of marriage. He liked Romilly and Caesar, his natural sons, much better than he liked my father, Harvard, who was his legitimate child.'

  'I see. Were you surprised that neither Mr Willoughby nor his brother Hubert was ever invited to Galliard Hall?'

  'I didn't think about it. I was glad I didn't have to meet Willoughby again. It would have been embarrassing.'

  'Did you know that Hubert had been given charge of the English church in an Italian Riviera town?'

  'I-no, I don't think so-that is, I may have known. I can't remember whether I knew or not.'

  'That's a little strange, isn't it?'

  'No, I don't think so. I've been living a strange and frightening life these last months, and, as Dame Beatrice will tell you, I'm still on the edge of a volcano.'

  'I know what you mean, Miss Lestrange. Don't worry. We shall protect you. Now I have only one more thing to ask you, unless anything arises out of your answer to it. Can you remember exactly who were present at your grandfather's funeral?'

  'Oh, yes, of course. I didn't go-I was too much upset by his death-and Binnie wasn't there, but otherwise all the relations went-well, I took it for granted they did.'

  'All the relations? Dame Beatrice, for example, and her sister-in-law, Lady Selena?'

  'Oh, I see. I really meant all the relations who were at Galliard Hall. I didn't know I had any others. Grandfather never mentioned any, and I was not the sort of child to ask questions.'

  'And the Reverend Hubert Lestrange conducted the service?'

  'So I understand. Anyway, I suppose he came back to the hotel afterwards to hear the Will read, and have something to eat and drink.'

  'How did he appear to get on with his brother? What sort of feeling was there between them?'

  'I don't know. I spent most of the time in my room, crying. Grandfather's death, you see, had turned my world upside down. I didn't even listen when the Will was read. That's why I went off with Romilly. He said I had to. He said it was in the Will. Willoughby tried to interfere, and they argued, but, in the end, Willoughby gave in, and I went off with Romilly and was shut up at Galliard Hall without any proper clothes or any hope of escape. I went in fear of my life until Dame Beatrice came along and rescued me. Oh, you won't let Romilly go free, will you? Please don't let Romilly go!'

  'That doesn't rest with me, miss, but, whatever happens, we'll see you come to no harm. I understand you're going to stay for a bit with Mr and Mrs Humphrey Provost.'

  'Oh, yes! Won't it be fun? Binnie telephoned me. They're going to have a school of their own, and I'm going to run the drama group.'

  'Very suitable,' said Laura sourly, when this remark was reported to her.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  COUNTRY DANCE-PARSON'S FAREWELL

  'Say to her we have measured many miles

  To tread a measure with her on this grass.'

  Love's Labour's Lost.

  (1)

  The Reverend Hubert Lestrange was met at the airport by Dame Beatrice two days after Rosamund had gone to stay with Binnie and Humphrey. His resemblance to her son Ferdinand was so striking that she had not the least difficulty in picking him out.

  'It was extremely kind of you to pay my fare,' he said, when the car was on its way to the Stone House. 'I understand that the p
olice need my help, but I can't think of anything I can do. Willoughby and I have been largely out of touch for some time. I was rather disconcerted when he entered my grandfather's service, and then when he wrote to me and told me that an unmarried girl was to bear his child, I'm afraid my bump of Christian charity was considerably diminished. I have seen the English papers, of course, and I read the report of his death, but I can tell the police nothing at all about it.'

  'It is not directly with reference to your brother's death that we want to see you,' said Dame Beatrice, 'but I will introduce you to Detective-Inspector Kirkby, and he will tell you what he hopes you'll be able to do.'

  Kirkby had been in consultation with Dame Beatrice before she drove to the airport, and was at the Stone House at ten on the following morning, the day before Romilly was to appear before the magistrates for the second time. He was introduced to Hubert and greeted the swarthy young cleric cheerfully.

  'I don't know whether Dame Beatrice has briefed you, sir,' he said, 'but, from what she tells me, you are the one person who may be able to help us.'

  'No, I have told him nothing,' said Dame Beatrice. 'I thought it best that everything should be discussed at official level.'

  'Well,' Kirkby went on, 'tomorrow, if you'll be good enough, we'd be glad if you'd accompany us to court. We've got a man coming before the justices accused of murdering Mr Willoughby Lestrange who, we understand, was your brother. This man represents himself to be your uncle, Mr Romilly Lestrange, but Dame Beatrice has reason to believe that he is nothing of the sort, but is a fortune-hunting imposter.'

  'Then what do you require of me?' asked Hubert.

  'Why, to tell us whether Dame Beatrice is right,' replied Kirkby, with an air of surprise. That is all, sir. There is no need for anything more.'

  The clergyman shook his head.

  'I am afraid you have had your trouble and expense, and I my journey, for nothing,' he said. 'To the best of my knowledge, I have never seen my uncle. He went out to Kenya before I was born.'

  'Family photographs,' suggested Kirkby, hopefully. Hubert shook his head again.

  'I have none. I was never shown any. You yourself, Dectective-Inspector, could pass yourself off as my uncle without my being able to contradict you. I am very sorry, but there it is. I can be of no help to you at all.'

  'No help to us, sir, but possibly a very great help, then, to the man we are holding in custody,' said Kirkby, disguising his disappointment. 'Just one more question. To the best of your knowledge, would your late brother be similarly placed to yourself? By that, I mean, would he also have been unable to tell us whether our man is Romilly Lestrange or someone impersonating him?'

  'I cannot answer for my brother. We have seen little of one another since he became my grandfather's secretary and I entered the Church. On the other hand, I imagine that his circumstances would be similar to my own. Willoughby was younger than myself by two years. Unless he saw my uncle very recently, he would not have been in a position to recognise him. Moreover, even if Willoughby had met him (assuming that Romilly had returned to England), he would have had to take his word for it that he was our Uncle Romilly. He could not possibly have been in a position to say whether Romilly was what he claimed to be, unless he had my grandfather's word for it.'

  'I do not think he had that,' said Dame Beatrice.

  'That settles it, then,' said Kirkby. 'We shall have to tell the beaks we have no case. The only motive this charlatan could have for getting rid of Mr Willoughby was that the poor gentleman might have given the game away. Take away that motive, and the ground disappears from under our feet. At least, that's the way I see it.'

  'The motive would still hold if Romilly thought that Willoughby could unmask him,' Dame Beatrice pointed out.

  'Yes, ma'am, I agree, but how are we going to prove that he did think it? If he was (as seems pretty certain) the real Mr Romilly's partner in the coffee plantation out in Kenya, he'd know there weren't photographs sent home, I take it, and he'd know that the nephews hadn't been born when Romilly emigrated. No doubt their father sent the news, and he may have sent photographs of them when they were children, but, as the Reverend Mr Lestrange has just told us, there was no reciprocation. Anyway, it seems to me now that there was no chance whatever that Mr Willoughby could have known that his so-called uncle was an imposter. What do you say to that, ma'am?'

  'Several things,' replied Dame Beatrice, 'but perhaps the time is not ripe to say them. I will go so far as to point out, however, that, although it seems more than likely that this Romilly was the real Romilly's partner out in Kenya, even that is not an established fact. Secondly, if this Romilly supposed (mistakenly, as it turns out) that Willoughby could expose him, why did he not suppose that some one or other, or possibly all, of the other young relatives would be in a similar powerful position?'

  'Yes, I had thought of that, ma'am, of course, and, so far, we don't know the answer.'

  'Well, I have one more question to put to you, my dear Hubert. Is it true that you officiated at your grandfather's funeral?' asked Dame Beatrice.

  'I? Oh, dear me, no. I had no idea he was dead until I had a letter from Willoughby to tell me so, and to inform me that we should get our father's share of the money left him in the Will. I was, even then, in Italy, and had been there for a couple of years. My grandfather was buried long before I got Willoughby's letter.'

  'Pelion on Ossa,' said Dame Beatrice. 'I understood that you had been in Italy for merely a matter of months. However, it probably makes no difference, as neither you nor your brother was invited to the house-warming at Galliard Hall.'

  'Pelion on Ossa?' repeated the Reverend Hubert. 'No, I assure you! My stipend is anything but large. The money came, after probate had been granted, and I was exceedingly grateful for it.'

  'That was not what I meant,' said Dame Beatrice.

  'What did you mean, ma'am,' asked Kirkby, 'apart from what you said about the house-warming?'

  'Only that, if I were Willoughby's murderer, I would be inclined to exclaim, "How all occasions do inform against me!" I am not Willoughby's murderer, but what was a theory of mine is now in a fair way of becoming susceptible of proof. Tell me, Mr Kirkby, why do people lie?'

  'From fear, in the hope of gain, for social reasons or just because they're made that way,' said Kirkby.

  (2)

  'Of course,' said Dame Beatrice to Laura, that same evening, 'we get a different and a more interesting picture if we reverse our point of view.'

  'About what?'

  'About which party to believe. Led partly by your almost violent antipathy to our fosterling, I long ago examined matters afresh. Let us look at them together. For some little time I accepted Rosamund's story as being true in the main. What if Romilly and, particularly, Judith, are speaking the truth, and Rosamund has been lying?'

  'You mean that she is Romilly's wife?'

  'That is a possibility, among other things.'

  'What other things?'

  'Let us go back to the beginning of my acquaintance with the inmates of Galliard Hall. Almost immediately I arrived there, I was given two versions of the same thing. A bevy of relatives had been invited as members of a house-party. Judith informed me that they had been invited by Rosamund. Rosamund insisted that they were Romilly's guests.'

  'Well, on that, I should be prepared to accept Rosamund's version. It doesn't seem that she was in a position to invite hordes of relatives to the house.'

  'I did accept her version, and I am inclined to continue to do so, but with certain mental reservations. She may not have issued the invitations, but I think she supplied the addresses.'

  'So, on point number one, she wasn't lying.'

  'On the second point, however, I think she was. She claimed to possess no modern clothes. She insisted that Romilly and Judith caused her to wear nothing but fancy dress so that she could not hope to escape from Galliard Hall without attracting so much attention that she wou
ld inevitably be traced and brought back. There is evidence, however, that she had a wardrobe filled with suitable attire which, for her own purposes, she declined to wear.'

  'If so, she lied, and the score is one-all, but what makes you think she did lie?'

  'There is the fact that I was never allowed to see Rosamund's room.'

  'That was at Romilly's suggestion, though, didn't you tell me?'

  'Oh, no. It was at Rosamund's own wish. Romilly merely pleaded that the room was very untidy.'

  'Well, we'll keep an open mind about the clothes, then, with the balance in favour of a lie by Rosamund, but it's all very sketchy, you know.'

  'I realise that. I am not trying to blacken Rosamund's character, but nothing is lost by going over the ground in a critical spirit, and it is always interesting to see what a thing looks like from another angle. Well, then came the rather odd affair of the picture which covered the squint in my bedroom wall. It was Rosamund herself who drew my attention to it.'

  'Only because she said it had not been there before you came. You thought you'd been given that particular room because the squint was there, and you deduced that anybody in the adjoining room could hear what passed between Rosamund and yourself while she was having her treatment.'

  'Yes, but suppose Rosamund drew my attention to the picture because she wanted me to take it down?'

  'But why should she want that?'

  'I have not yet made up my mind whether that is what she wanted, but there is something about which I have misled you. When I realised that a rifle-shot, fired through the squint, would have a fair chance of killing anybody lying in my bed, and when I discovered that the bed was clamped to the floor, so that its position could not be altered, I told you that I took the precaution of changing round the bedding, so that my head was out of range of a gunshot. My feet were in no danger, since I am considerably shorter than a full-length bed. Well, the disturbance I mentioned took place in my room.'

  'Good Lord! You don't mean somebody did take a pop at you?' Laura looked so horrified that Dame Beatrice cackled. 'Do you know who it was?'