by Ngaio Marsh
"Can't help it,"said Cubitt and put down his palette.
"For pity's sake,"said Alleyn, "don't go wrong with it now." "I'll knock off, I think." "We've been a hell of a nuisance. I'm sorry." "My dear chap,"said Parish. "you're nothing to the modest Violet. It's a wonder she hasn't appeared. She puts up her easel about five yards behind Norman's and brazenly copies every stroke he makes." "It's not as bad as that, Seb." "Well, personally,"said Parish, "I've had quite as much as I want of me brother Terence and me brother Brian and me unfortunate cousin poor Bryonie." "What! "exclaimed Alleyn.
"She has a cousin who is a noble lord and got jugged for something." "Bryonie,"said Alleyn. "He was her cousin, was he? " "So it seems. Do you remember the case? " "Vaguely,"said Alleyn. "Vaguely. Was Miss Darragh anywhere about on that same morning? " "She was over there,"said Parish. "Back in the direction you've come from. She must have stayed there for hours. She came in, drenched to the skin and looking like the wrath of heaven, late in the afternoon." "An enthusiast,"murmured Alleyn. "Ah, well, we mustn't hang round you any longer. We're bound for Gary Edge Farm." Something in the look Cubitt gave him reminded Alleyn of Will Pomeroy.
Parish said, "To call on the fair Decima? You'll be getting into trouble with Will Pomeroy." "Seb,"said Cubitt, "pray don't be kittenish. Miss Moore is out on Saturday mornings, Alleyn." "So Will Pomeroy told us, but we hoped to meet her on her way to Ottercombe. Good luck to the work.
Come along, Fox." ll A few yards beyond the headland they struck a rough track that led inland and over the downs.
"This will take us there, I expect,"said Alleyn.
"Fox, those gentlemen lied about Watchman and the furze bush." "I thought so, sir. Mr. Cubitt made a poor fist of it." "Yes. He's not a good liar. He's a damn good. painter. I must ask Troy about him." Alleyn stopped and thumped the point of his stick on the ground.
"What the devil,"he asked, "is this about Lord Bryonie? " "He's the man that was mixed up in the Montague Thringle case." "Yes, I know. He got six months. He was Thringle's cat's-paw. By George, Fox, d'vou know what? " "What, sir? " "Luke Watchman defended Bryonie. I'll swear he did." "I wouldn't remember." "Yes, you would. You must. By gum. Fox, we'll look up that case. Watchman defended Bryonie, and Bryonie was Miss Darragh's cousin. Rum. Monstrous rum." "Sort of fetched her into the picture by another route." "It does. Well, come on. We've lots of little worries.
I wonder if Miss Moore uses orange-brown lipstick. I tell you what. Fox, I think Cubitt is catched with Miss Moore." "In love with her? " "Deeply, I should say. Did you notice, last night, how his manner changed when he talked about her? The same thing happened just now. He doesn't like our going to Cary Edge. Nor did Will Pomeroy. I wonder what she's like." He saw what Decima was like in thirty seconds. She came swinging over the hilltop. She wore a rust-coloured jumper and a blue skirt. Her hair was ruffled, her eyes were bright, and her lips were orange-brown. When she saw the two men she halted for a second and then came on towards them.
Alleyn took off his hat and waited for her.
"Miss Moore? " "Yes." She stopped, but her pose suggested that it would be only for a moment.
We hoped that we might meet you if we were too late to find you at home,"said Alleyn. "I wonder if you can give us a minute or two. We're police officers." "Yes." "I'm sorry to bother you, but would you mind----? " "You'd better come back to the farm,"said Decima.
"It's over the next hill." "That will be a great bore for you, I'm afraid." "It doesn't matter. I can go into the Coombe later in the morning." "We shan't keep you long. There's no need to turn back." Decima seemed to hesitate.
"All right,"she said at last. She walked over to a rock at the edge of the track and sat on it. Alleyn and Fox followed her.
She looked at them with the kind of assurance that is given to women who are unusually lovely and sometimes to women who are emphatically plain. She was without self-consciousness. Nobody had told Alleyn that Decima was beautiful and he was a little surprised. "It's impossible," he thought,"that she can be in love with young Pomeroy." "I suppose it's about Luke Watchman,"said Decima.
"Yes, it is. We've been sent down to see if we can tidy up a bit." "Does that mean they think it was murder? "asked Decima steadily, "or don't you answer that sort of question? " "We don't,"rejoined Alleyn, smiling, "answer that sort of question." "I suppose not,"said Decima.
"We are trying,"continued Alleyn, "to trace Mr.
Watchman's movements from the time he got here until the time of the accident." "Why? " "Part of the tidying-up process." "I see." "It's all pretty plain sailing except for Friday morning." Alleyn saw her head turn so that for a second she looked towards Ottercombe Tunnel. It was only for a second and she faced him again.
"He went out,"said Alleyn, "soon after breakfast.
Mr. Pomeroy saw him enter the tunnel. That was about ten minutes before you left Ottercombe. Did you see Mr. Watchman on your way home? " "Yes,"she said, "I saw him." "Where, please." "Just outside the top of the tunnel by some furze bushes. I think he was asleep." "Did he wake as you passed him? " She clasped her thin hands round her knees.
"Oh, yes,"she said.
"Did you stop, Miss Moore? " "For a minute or two, yes." "Do you mind telling us what you talked about? " "Nothing that could help you. We--we argued about theories." "Theories? " "Oh, politics. We disagreed violently over politics.
I'm a red rebel, as I suppose you've heard. It rather annoyed him. We only spoke for a moment." "I suppose it was apropos of the Coombe Left Movement ? "murmured Alleyn.
"Do you? "asked Decima.
Alleyn looked apologetic. "I thought it might be," he said, "because of your interest in the movement. I mean it would have been a sort of natural ingredient of a political argument, wouldn't it? " "Would it? "asked Decima.
"You're quite right to snub me,"said Alleyn ruefully.
"I'm jumping to conclusions and that's a very bad fault in our job. Isn't it, Fox? " "Shocking, sir,"said Fox.
Alleyn pulled out his notebook.
"I'll just get this right, if I may. You met Mr.
Watchman at about what time? " "Ten o'clock." "At ten o'clock or thereabouts. You met him by accident. You think he was asleep. You had a political argument in which the Coombe Left Movement was not mentioned." "I didn't say so, you know." "Would you mind saying so or saying not so? Just for my notes? "asked Alleyn, with such a quaint air of diffidence that Decima suddenly smiled at him.
"All right,"she said. "we did argue about the society, though it's nothing to do with the case." "If you knew the numbers of these books that I've filled with notes that have nothing whatever to do with the case you'd feel sorry for me,"said Alleyn.
"We'll manage things better when we run the police," said Decima.
"I hope so,"said Alleyn gravely. "Was your argument amicable? " "Fairly,"said Decima.
"Did you mention Mr. Legge? " Decima said, "Before we go any further there's something I'd like to tell you." Alleyn looked up quickly. She was frowning. She stared out over the downs, her thin fingers were clasped together.
"You'd better leave Robert Legge alone,"said Decima. "If Watchman was murdered it wasn't by Legge." "How do you know that, Miss Moore? " "I watched him. He hadn't a chance. The others will have told you that. Will, Norman Cubitt, Miss Darragh.
We've compared notes. We're all positive." "You don't include Mr. Parish? " "He's a fool,"said Decima.
"And Mr. Abel Pomeroy? " She blushed unexpectedly and beautifully.
"Mr. Pomeroy's not a fool but he's violently prejudiced against Bob Legge. He's a ferocious Tory. He thinks we--he thinks Will and I are too much under Bob's influence. He hasn't got a single reasonable argument against Bob. He simply would rather it was Bob than anyone else and has hypnotised himself into believing he's right. It's childishly obvious. Surely you must see that.
He's an example in elementary psychology." Alleyn raised an eyebrow. She glared at him.
"I'm not disputing it,"said Alleyn mildly.
You'd think they'd say, ' Come on, then, look into his record, find out all you like about him. He's a decent citizen and an innocent man. He'll stand up to any amount of investigation.' They don't. They take the line of resenting the mildest form of question about Legge.
Why's that, do you suppose? Why do you warn us off Mr. Legge? " "I don't----" "But you do,"insisted Alleyn gently.
Decima turned her head and stared searchingly at him.
"You don't look a brute,"she said doubtfully.
"I'm glad of that." "I mean you don't look a complete robot. I suppose, having once committed yourself to a machine, you have to tick over in the appointed manner." "Always providing someone doesn't throw a spanner in the works." "Look here,"said Decima. "Bob Legge had an appointment in Illington that evening. He was just going ; he would have gone if Will hadn't persuaded him not to. Will told him he'd be a fool to drive through the tunnel with the surface water pouring through it." She was watching Alleyn and she said quickly, "Ah 1 You didn't know that? " Alleyn said nothing.
"Ask Will. Ask the man he was to meet in Illington." "The local police have done that,"said Alleyn. "We won't question the appointment. We only know Mr.
Legge didn't keep it." "He couldn't. You can't drive through that tunnel when there's a stream of surface water pouring down it." "I should hate to try,"Alleyn agreed. "We're not making much of an outcry over Mr. Legge's failure to appear. It was you, wasn't it, who raised the question ? " "I was only going to point out that Bob didn't know there would be a thunderstorm, did he? " "Unless the pricking of his thumbs or something——" "If this was murder I suppose it was premeditated.
You won't deny that? " "No. I don't deny that." "Well, then I Suppose he was the murderer. He didn't know it would rain. It would have looked pretty fishy for him to put off his appointment for no reason at all." "It would. I wonder why he didn't tell me this himself." "Because he's so worried that he's at the end of his tether. Because you got hold of him last night and deliberately played on his nerves until he couldn't think.
Because——" "Hallo!"said Alleyn. "You've seen him this morning, have you? " If Decima was disconcerted she didn't show it. She blazed at Alleyn : "Yes, I've seen him, and I scarcely recognized him.
He's a mass of overwrought nerves. His condition's pathological. The next thing will be a confession of a crime he didn't commit." "How about the crime he did commit? "asked Alleyn. "It would be more sensible." And that did shake her. She caught her breath in a little gasping sigh. Her fingers went to her lips. She looked very young and very guilty.
"So you knew all the time,"said Decima.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN LOVE INTEREST
alleyn had expected that Decima would hedge, rage, or possibly pretend to misunderstand him. Her sudden capitulation took him by surprise and he was obliged to make an embarrassingly quick decision. He plumped for comparative frankness.
"We expect,"he said, "a report on his fingerprints.
When that comes through we shall have official confirmation of a record that we suspected from the first and of which we are now certain." "And you immediately put two and two together and make an absurdity." "What sort of absurdity? " "You will say that because he didn't come forward and announce ' I'm a man with a police record,' he's a murderer. Can't you see how he felt? Have you the faintest notion what it's like for a man who's been in prison to try to get back, to try to earn a miserable pittance? Have you ever thought about it at all or wondered for two seconds what becomes of the people you send to gaol? To their minds? I know you look after their bodies with the most intolerable solicitude.
You are there always. Every employer is warned. There is no escape. It would be better, upon my honour, I believe it would be better, to hang them outright than-- than to tear their wings off and let them go crawling out into the sun." "That's a horrible analogy,"said Alleyn, "and a false one." "It's a true analogy. Can't you see why Legge was so frightened? He's only just stopped having to report.
Only now has he got his thin freedom. He thought, poor wretch, that we wouldn't keep him on if we knew he'd been to gaol. Leave him alone 1 Leave him alone I " "How long have you known this about him? "asked Alleyn.
She stood up abruptly, her palm against her forehead as though her head ached.
"Oh, for some time." "He confided in you? When? " "When he got the job,"said Decima flatly.
Alleyn did not believe this, but he said politely, "That was very straightforward, wasn't it? "And as she did not answer he added, "Do you know why he went to prison? " "No. I don't want to know. Don't tell me. He's wiped it out. God knows, poor thing. Don't tell me." Alleyn reflected, with a certain amount of amusement, that it was as well she didn't want to know what Legge's offence had been. Some image of this thought may have appeared in his face. He saw Decima look sharply at him and he said hurriedly: "All this is by the way. What I really want to ask you is whether, on the morning you encountered Mr. Watchman by the furze bush, you were alone with him all the time." He saw that now she was frightened for herself. Her eyes widened, and she turned extremely pale.
"Yes. At least--I--no. Not at the end. I rather think Norman Cubitt and Sebastian Parish came up." You rather think? " "They did come up. I remember now. They did." "And yet,"said Alleyn, "when I asked them if they saw Watchman that morning, they said definitely that they did not." "They must have forgotten." "Please I You can't think I'll believe that. They must have been over every word that was spoken by Watchman during the last hours of his life. They have told me as much. Why, they must have walked back to the inn with him. How could they forget? " Decima said, "They didn't forget." "No? " "It was for me. They are being little gents." Alleyn waited.
"Well,"she said,"I won't have it. I won't have their chivalry. If you must know, they surprised their friend in a spirited attempt upon my modesty. I wasn't pleased and I was telling him precisely what I thought of him. I suppose they were afraid you would transfer your attentions from Bob Legge to me." "Possibly,"agreed Alleyn, "They seem to think I am a sort of investigating chameleon." "I imagine,"said Decima in a high voice, "that because I didn't relish Mr. Watchman's embraces and told him so, it doesn't follow that I set to work and murdered him." "It's not a strikingly good working hypothesis. I'm sorry to labour this point but we've no sense of decency in the force. Had he shown signs of these tricks before? ' The clear pallor of Decima's face was again flooded with red. Alleyn thought,"Good Lord, she's an attractive creature. I wonder what the devil she's like."He saw, with discomfort, that she could not look at him. Fox made an uneasy noise in his throat and stared over the downs. Alleyn waited. At last Decima raised her eyes.
"He was like that,"she murmured.
Alleyn now saw a sort of furtiveness in Decima. She was no longer tense, her pose had changed and she offered him no challenge.
"I suppose he couldn't help it,"she said, and then with a strange look from Alleyn to Fox she added, "It's nothing. It doesn't mean anything. You needn't think ill of him. I was all right." In half a minute she had changed. The educational amenities provided by that superior mother had fallen away from her. She had turned into a rustic beauty, conscious of her power of provocation. The rumoured engagement to Will Pomeroy no longer seemed ridiculous.
And, as if she had followed Alleyn's thought, she said, "I'd be very glad if you wouldn't say anything of this to Will Pomeroy. He knows nothing about it. He wouldn't understand." "I'll sheer on it if it can be done. It was not the first time you'd had difficulty with Watchman? " She paused and then said, "We hadn't actually-- come to blows before." "Blows? Literally?" "I'm afraid so." She stood up. Alleyn thought she mustered her selfassurance.
When she spoke again it was in a different key, ironically and with composure.
"Luke,"she said, "wa
s amorous by habit. No doubt it was not the first time he'd miscalculated. He wasn't in the least disconcerted. He--wasn't in the least in love with me." "No? " "It's merely a squalid little incident which I had rather hoped to forget. It was, I suppose, very magnificent of Seb and Norman to lie about it, but the gesture was too big for the theme." "Now she's being grand at me,"thought Alleyn.
"We are back in St. Margaret's Hall." He said: "And Watchman had never made himself objectionable before that morning? " "I did not usually find him particularly objectionable." r~.7 j "I intended,"said Alleyn, "to ask you if he had ever made love to you before? " "I have told you he wasn't in the least in love with me." "I'm unlucky in my choice of words, I see. Had he ever kissed you. Miss Moore? " "This is very tedious,"said Dedma. "I have tried to explain that my acquaintance with Luke Watchman was of no interest or significance to either of us, or, if you will believe me, to you." "Then why,"asked Alleyn mildly, "don't you give me an answer and have done with it? " "Very well,"said Decima breathlessly. "You can have your answer. I meant nothing to him and he meant less to me. Until last Friday he'd never been anything but the vaguest acquaintance."She turned on Fox.
