Ngaio Marsh - Death At The Bar

by Ngaio Marsh

  "Shall we join the rats? " Will led Alleyn across the yard to the old stables.

  A small evening breeze came in from the sea, lifting Alleyn's hair and striking chiU through his tweed coat.

  Gulls circled overhead. The sound of men's voices drifted up from the waterfront.

  "It'U be dark in-along,"said Will.

  "I've got a torch." "The rat-hole's not in the proper garage, like. It's in one of the old loose-boxes. It's locked and we haven't got the key. Harper's men did that." "Mr. Harper gave me the key,"said Alleyn.

  The old foose-box doors had been padlocked, and sealed with police tape. Alleyn broke the tape and unlocked them.

  "I wonder,"he said, "if you'd mind asking Mr.

  Fox to join me. He's got a second torch. [Ask. him to bring my case." "Yes,"said Will, and after a fractional pause, "sir.

  Alleyn went into the stable. It had been used as an extra garage but there was no car in it now. Above the faint reek of petrol oozed another more disagreeable smell, sweetish and nauseating. The cyanide, thought Alleyn, had evidently despatched at least one rat. The place was separated from the garage-proper, an old coach-house, by a semi-partition ; but the space between the top of the partition and the roof had recently been boarded up, and Alleyn awarded Harper a good mark for attention to detail. Harper, he knew, had also taken photographs of the rat-hole and tested the surrounding walls and floor for prints. He had found dozens of these.

  Alleyn flashed his torch round the bottom of the walls and discovered the rat-hole. He stooped down. Harper had removed the rag and jar, tested them for prints, and found Abel's. He had then drained off the contents of the jar and replaced it. There was the original rag stuffed tight in the hole. Alleyn pulled it out and the smell of dead rat became very strong indeed. The ray of light glinted on a small jar. It was less than an inch in diameter and about half an inch deep.

  Fox loomed up in the doorway. He said : "Thank you, Mr. Pomeroy, I'll find my way in." Will Pomeroy's boots retreated across the cobblestones.

  "Look here, Br'er Fox,"said Alleyn.

  A second circle of light flickered on the little vessel. Fox peered over Alleyn's shoulder.

  "And it was full,"said Fox.

  "Yes,"said Alleyn. "That settles it, I fancy." "How d'you mean, sir." "It's a case of murder."

  II

  The parlour of the Feathers is the only room in the house that is generally uninhabited. For the usual patrons, the private tap is the common room. The parlour is across the side passage and opposite the public tap-room. It overlooks Ottercombe Steps and beneath its windows are the roofs of the Fish Lane houses. It has a secret and deserted life of its own. Victoria's Jubilee and Edward the Seventh's wedding face each other across a small desert of linoleum and plush. Above the mantelpiece hangs a picture of two cylindrical and sluglike kittens. Upon the mantelpiece are three large shells. A rag-rug, lying in front of the fireplace, suggests that in a more romantic age Harlequin visited the Feathers and sloughed his skin before taking a leap up the chimney.

  For Alleyn's arrival the parlour came to life. Someone had opened the window and placed a bowl of flowers on the plush-covered table. Abel Pomeroy hurriedly added a writing pad, a pencil, a terrible old pen and a bottle of ink. He surveyed the arrangements with an anxious smile, disappeared for a minute, and returned to ask Alleyn if there was anything else he needed.

  "Two pints of beer, Mr. Pomeroy,"said Alleyn, "will set me up for the rest of the evening." Abel performed a sort of slow-motion trick with his right hand drawing away his apron to reveal a thickly cobwebbed bottle.

  "I wondered, sir,"he said, "if you'd pleasure me by trying a drop of this yurr tipple. 'Twrr laid down by my old Dad, many a year back. Sherry 'tis. 'Montillady.

  I did use to call 'er Amadillo afore I knew better." "But my dear Mr. Pomeroy,"said Alleyn, "this is something very extra indeed. It's a wine for the gods." "Just what the old colonel said, sir, when I told him us had it. It would pleasure the Feathers, sir, if you would honour us." "It's extraordinarily nice of you." "You wurr 'straordinary nice to me, sir, when I come up to London. If you'll axcuse me, I'll get the glasses." "It should be decanted, Mr. Pomeroy." "So it should, then. I'll look out a decanter tomorrow, sir, and in the meanwhile us'U open the bottle." They opened the bottle and took a glass each.

  "To the shade of Edgar Allan Poe,"murmured Alleyn, and raised his glass.

  "The rest is yours, gentlemen,"said Abel. "'Twill be set aside special. Thurr's a decanter in the Private.

  If so be you bain't afeard, same as George Nark, that all my bottles is full of pison, to-morrow I'll decant this yurr tipple in your honour." Alleyn and Fox murmured politely.

  "Be thurr anything else I can do, gentlemen? "asked Abel.

  "We'll have a look at the private bar, Mr. Pomeroy, if we may." "Certainly, sir, certainly, and terrible pleased us'U be to have her opened up again. 'Tis like having the corpse itself on the premises, with Private shuttered up and us chaps all hugger-mugger of an evening in Public.

  Has His Royal Highness the Duke of Muck condescended to hand over the keys, sir? " "What? Oh--yes I have the keys." "Nick Harper 1 "said Abel, "with his fanciful blown-up fidgetting ways. Reckon the man laces his boots with red tape. This way if you please, gentlemen, and watch yourselves for the step. ' Dallybuttons, Nick,' I said to him, ' You've aimed your camera and blowed thicky childish li'l squirter over every inch of my private tap, you've lain on your belly and scraped the muck off the floor. What do 'ee want,"I said I ' Do 'ee fancy the corpse will hant the place and write murderer's name in the dust? ' I axed him. This is the door, sir." Alleyn produced his bunch of keys and opened the door.

  The private tap had been locked up by Oates a fortnight ago, and reopened by Harper and his assistants only for purposes of investigation. The shutter over the bar counter had been drawn down and locked. The window shutters also were fastened. The place was in complete darkness.

  Abel switched on the light.

  It was a travesty of the private tap that Alleyn saw.

  The comfort and orderliness of its habitual aspect were quite gone. It had suffered such a change as might overtake a wholesome wench turned drab in a fortnight.

  Dust covered the tables, settles, and stools. The butt ends of cigarettes strewed the floor, tobacco ash lay (verywhere in small patches and trails. The open hearth was littered with ashes of the fire that had warmed Watchman on the night he died. Five empty tumblers were stained with the dregs of Courvoisier '87, two with the dregs of the ginger-beer. Of the eighth glass such powdered fragments as had escaped Harper's brush, crunched jarringly underfoot. The room smelt indescribably stale and second-rate.

  "It do gall me uncommon,"said Abel, "for my private taproom to display itself in thicky shocking state." "Never mind, Mr. Pomeroy,"said Alleyn, "we're used to it, you know." He stood just inside the door with Fox at his shoulder.

  Abel watched them anxiously but it is doubtful if he remarked the difference in their attitudes. Fox's eyes, light grey in colour, brightened and sharpened as he looked about the room. But Alleyn might have been a guest in the house, and with no more interest than politeness might allow his gaze shifted casually from one dust-covered surface to another.

  After a few minutes, however, he could have given a neat drawing, with nice attention to detail, of the private taproom. He noticed the relative positions of the dartboard, the bar and the settle. He paid attention to-the position of the lights, and remarked tliat the spot, chalked on the floor by Oates, where Legge had stood when he threw the darts, was immediately under a strong lamp.

  He saw that there was a light switch inside the door and another by the mantelpiece. He walked over to the corner cupboard.

  "Nick Harper,"said Abel, "took away that theer cursed pison bottle. He took away the bits of broken glass and brandy bottle and iodine bottle. He took away the new darts, all six on 'em. All Nick Harper left behind is dirt and smell. Help yourself to either of 'em." "Don't go just yet,
"said Alleyn. "We want your help, Mr. Pomeroy, if you'll give it to us." "Ready and willing,"Abel said with emphasis.

  "I'm ready and willing to do all I can. By my way of thinking you two gentlemen are here to clear my name, and I be mortal set on that scheme." "Right. Now will you tell me, as well as you can remember, where everybody stood at the moment when you poured out the second round of brandies. Can you remember? Try to call up the picture of this room as it was a fortnight ago tonight." "I can call it to mind right enough,"said Abel slowly. "I been calling it to mind every night and a mighty number of times every night, since that ghassley moment. I was behind bar----" "Let's have those shutters away,"said Alleyn.

  Fox unlocked the shutters and rolled them up. The private tap proper was discovered. A glass door, connecting the two bars, was locked and through it Alleyn could see into the Public. Will Pomeroy was serving three fishermen. His shoulder was pressed against the glass door. He must have turned his head when he heard the sound of the shutters. He looked at Alleyn through his eyelashes and then turned away.

  Alleyn examined the counter in the private tap. It was stained with dregs fourteen days old. Abel pointed to a lighter ring.

  "Thurr's where brandy-bottle stood,"he said. "'Ess fay, thurr's where she was, sure enough." "Yes. Now, where were the people? You say you stood behind the bar? " "'Ess, and young Will was in corner 'twixt bar and dart-board. Rest of 'em had just finished round-the-clock.

  Bob Legge had won. They used the old darts and when he ran home he put 'em back in that thurr wooden rack by board. Yurr they be. Nick Harper come over generous,"said Abel with irony, "and left us they old darts. He collared the new 'uns." "Ah yes,"said Alleyn hurriedly. "What about the rest of the party? " "I'm telling you, sir. Chap Legge'd won the bout.

  Mr. Watchman says, ' By God it's criminal, Legge. Men have been jailed for less,' he says in his joking way.

  ' Come on,' he says, ' Us'll have 'tother half,' lie says,. and then, be George, if I don't let 'ee have a go at my hand.' He says it joking, sir, but to my mind Mr.

  Watchman knew summat about Legge and to my mind Legge didn't like it." Abel glanced through the glass door at Will, but Will's back was turned. The three customers gaped shamelessly at Alleyn and Fox.

  "Well now,"Abel went on, lowering his voice, "Legge paid no 'tention to Mr. Watchman 'cept to say casuallike ' I'll do it all right, but don't try it if you feel nervous,' which wurr very wittest manner of speech the man could think of to egg on Mr. Watchman, to set his fancy hellbent on doing it. 'Ess, Legge egged the man on, did Legge. That's while he was putting away old darts.

  Then he moved off, tantalising, to t'other end of room.

  'Tother ladies and gentlemen was round bar, 'cepting Miss Darragh, who was setting with her writing in ingle-nook.

  Thurr's her glass on 't old settle, sir. Stone-ginger, she had. Miss Dessy, that's Miss Moore, sir, she was setting on the bar, in the corner yurr swinging her legs. That'll be her glass on the ledge thurr. Stone-ginger. The three gentlemen, they wurr alongside bar. Mr. Cubitt next Miss Dessy, then Mr. Watchman and then Mr. Parish.

  I 'member that, clear as daylight, along of Miss Darragh making a joke about 'em. ' Three graces,' she called 'em, being a fanciful kind of middle-aged lady." "That leaves Mr. George Nark." "So it does then, the silly old parrot. 'Ess. George Nark wurr setting down by table inside of door, laying down the law as is the foolish habit of the man. Well now, I poured out the second tots beginning with Mr. Cubitt.

  Then Mr. Watchman and then Mr. Parish. Then George Nark brings his glass over with his tongue hanging out and insults t'murdered gentleman by axing for soda in this masterpiece of a tipple, having nigh-on suffercated hisself with first tot, golloping it down ferocious. No sooner does he swallow second tot than he's proper blind tipsy. 'Ess, so soused as a herring wurr old George Nark.

  Lastly, sir, Mr. Watchman gets Legge's glass from mantelshelf and axes me to pour out the second tot." "Leaving his own glass on the bar between Mr. Parish and Mr. Cubitt? " "'Ess. Legge wurr going to wait till after he'd done his trick. Us knows what wurr in the evil thoughts of the man. He wanted to keep his eye in so's he could stick Mr. Watchman with thicky murderous dart." "Mr. Pomeroy,"said Alleyn, "I must warn you against making statements of that sort. You miglit land yourself in a very pretty patch of trouble, you know.

  What happened next? Did you pour out Mr. Legge's brandy for him? " "'Ess, I did. And Mr. Watchman tuk it to him saying he'd have no refusal. Then Mr. Watchman tuk his own dram over to table by dart-board. He drank 'er down slow and then says he, ' Now for it! ' " "And had Mr. Legge been anywhere near Mr. Watchman's glass? " Abel looked mulish. "No, sir, no. Not azacly.

  Not at all. He drank his over in ingle-nook opposite Miss Darragh. 'Twasn't then the mischief wurr done, Mr. Alleyn." "Well,"said Alleyn, "we shall see. Now for the accident itself." The story of those few minutes, a story that Alleyn was to hear many times before he reached the end of this case. Was repeated by Abel and tallied precisely with all the other accounts in Harper's file, and with the report of the inquest.

  "Very well,"said Alleyn. He paused for a moment and caught sight of Will's three customers staring with passionate interest through the glass door. He moved out of their range of vision.

  "Now we come to the events that followed the injury. You fetched the iodine from that cupboard? " "Sure enough, sir, I did." "Will you show me what you did? " "Certainly. Somebody--Legge 'twas--out of the depths of his hypocrasy, says, "put a drop of iodine on it,' he says. Right. I goes to thicky cupboard which Nick Harper has played the fool with, mucking round with his cameras and squirts of powder. I opens bottom door this way, and thurr on shelf is my first-aid box." Alleyn and Fox looked at the cupboard. It was a double corner cabinet, with two glass doors one above the other. Abel had opened the bottom door. At the back of the shelf was a lidless tin, containing the usual firstaid equipment, and a very nice ship's decanter. Abel removed the decanter.

  "I'll scald and scour 'er out,"he said. "Us'U have your sherry in this yurr, gentlemen, and I'll join you to-morrow in fust drink to show there's no hankypanky." "

  We'll be delighted if you'll join us, Mr. Pomeroy, but I don't think we need feel any qualms." "Ax George Nark,"said Abel bitterly. "Have a tell with George Nark and get your minds pisened. I'll look after your stomachs." Alleyn said hurriedly: "And that's the first-aid equipment? " "That's it, sir. Bottle of iodine was laying in empty slot yurr,"Abel explained. "I tuk it out and I tuk out bandage at same time." "You should keep your first-aid box shut up, Mr.

  Pomeroy,"said Alleyn absently.

  "Door's airtight, sir." Alleyn shone his torch into the cupboard. The triangular shelf forming the roof of the lower cupboard and the floor of the top one was made of a single piece of wood and fitted closely.

  "And the bottle of prussic acid solution was in the upper cupboard? "asked Alleyn.

  "'Ess, tight-corked. Nick Harper's taken——" "Yes, I know. Was the upper door locked? " "Key turned in lock same as it be now." "You said at the inquest that you had used the iodine earlier in the evening." "So I had, then. Bob Legge had cut hisself with his razor. He said he wurr shaving hisself along of going to Illington. When storm came up—it wurr a terror that thurr storm—us told Legge he'd better bide home-along.

  I reckon that's the only thing I've got to blame myself for. Howsumdever the man came in for his pint at five o'clock, and I give him a lick of iodine and some sticking plaster." "Are you certain, Mr. Pomeroy? It's important." "Bible oath."said Abel. "Thurr y'are, sir. Bible oath. Ax the man hisself. I fetched out my first-aid box and give him the bottle. Ax him." "Yes, yes. And you're certain it was at five o'clock? " "Bob Legge,"said Abel, "has been into tap for his pint at five o'clock every day 'cepting Sunday fur last ten months. Us opens at five in these parts and when I give him the iodine I glanced at clock and opened up." "When you put the bottle in the top cupboard on the Thursday night you wore gloves. Did you take them off before you turned the key? "
"'Ess fay, and pitched 'em on fire. Nick Harper come down off of his high horse furr enough to let on my finger marks is on key. Don't that prove it? " "It does indeed,' said Alleyn.

  Fox, who had been completely silent, now uttered a low growl.

  "Yes, Fox? "asked Alleyn.

  "Nothing, Mr. Alleyn." "Well."said Alleyn, "we've almost done. We now come to the brandy Miss Moore poured out of the Courvoisier bottle into Watchman's empty glass. Who •uggested he should have brandy? " "I'm not certain-sure, sir. I b'lieve Mr. Parish first, and then Miss Darragli, but I wouldn't swear to her." "Would you swear that nobody had been near Mr.

  Watchman's glass between the time he took his second nip and the time Miss Moore gave him the brandy? " "Not Legge,"said Abel thoughtfully. And then with that shade of reluctance with which he coloured any suggestion of Legge's innocence, "Legge wurr out in middle o' floor afore dart-board. Mr. Watchman stood atween him and table wurr t' glass stood. Mr. Parish walked over to look at Mr. Watchman spreading out his fingers. All t'others stood hereabouts beliind Legge.