by Ngaio Marsh
‘Lavatory,’ said Fox gloomily.
‘Possibly, Br’er Fox. We may have to resort to plumbing. His whole object would be to get rid of them immediately. He didn’t know when we mightn’t take a glass of sherry. Now there’s a valuable axiom which you, Colonel, have pointed out. The criminal is very prone to repetition. How did Legge get rid of the iodine bottle. He smashed it and threw the thick pieces into the fire. When he had more glass to get rid of in a hurry, wouldn’t he at once think of his former method? He’s a very unusual criminal if he didn’t. There was no fire here, but during the afternoon he made several trips to the garage. He was packing some of his books in the car. I think our first move is to search the car and the garage. It’s full of junk so it will be a delightful task.’
Alleyn turned to Oates.
‘Would you like to begin, Oates?’
‘Yes, sir, thank you, sir.’
‘Search the car and garage thoroughly. I’ll join you in ten minutes.’
‘Methodical, now,’ said Harper, ‘remember what I’ve told you.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Oates went out.
‘I think Mrs Ives is still about,’ said Alleyn. ‘She works late.’
‘I’ll see if I can find her, sir,’ said Fox.
‘You’ll stay where you are. I’ll go,’ said Alleyn.
Mrs Ives had gone to her room but had got no further than her first row of curling pins. Alleyn interviewed her in Legge’s room. She’d taken a cup of tea up to him in the afternoon when he was packing his books. She couldn’t say exactly when, but knew it was after three and before four o’clock. She had noticed the ear-lotion and dropper on top of his dressing-table.
‘Particular, I noticed it,’ said Mrs Ives, ‘along of it being wet and marking wood. Usually, of a morning, it’s all mucky with that pink stuff he puts in his ears. “About time you washed that thing,” I said, “and I see you’ve done it.” He seemed quite put-about. Well, you know, put-about, like, at my noticing.’
‘And did you go away soon after that, Mrs Ives?’
‘Well, sir, seeing I was not welcome,’ said Mrs Ives, bridling a little, ‘I went. I offered to help him with his books but he seemed like he didn’t fancy it, so I went on with my work upstairs. Polishing floor, I was.’
‘Which floor did you polish when you left Mr Legge?’
‘Passage, sir, and I might of saved myself the trouble, seeing he come and went to and fro from yard half a dozen times, stepping round me and dropping muck from his papers and passels.’
‘Did he go into the bathroom or any other room upstairs?’
Mrs Ives blushed. ‘He didn’t, then. He made two or three trips and after last trip he went into private tap. The gentlemen were down there, Mr Parish and Mr Cubitt. You come up here soon after that to change your clothes.’
Alleyn thanked her, spent an uncomfortable quarter of an hour on the roof outside Legge’s window, and returned to the parlour.
‘We’re in luck,’ he said, and gave them Mrs Ives’ story of the eardropper.
‘That’s why he didn’t fill it with lotion again and leave it. He’d just washed it when Mrs Ives walked in, and when she noticed it, he lost his nerve and decided to get rid of it.’
‘The dropper,’ said Harper, ‘had a rubber top.’
‘It’d float,’ said Fox.
‘He didn’t go there, Br’er Fox. Mrs Ives would have seen him. And there isn’t one downstairs. It’s the garage or the yard. Hallo, here’s Oates!’
Oates came in. He was slightly flushed with triumph.
‘Well?’ said Harper.
‘In accordance with instructions, sir,’ said Oates, ‘I proceeded to search the premises—’
‘A truce to these vain repetitions,’ began Colonel Brammington with some violence.
‘Never mind all that, Oates,’ said Harper. ‘Have you found anything?’
‘Smashed glass, sir. Powdered to scatters and under a bit of sacking. The sacking’s been newly shifted, sir.’
‘We’ll look at it,’ said Alleyn. ‘Anything else?’
‘I searched the car, sir, without success. I noted she was low in water, sir, and I took the liberty of filling her up. When she was full, sir, this come up to the top.’
He opened his great hand.
Lying on the palm was a small wet indiarubber cap such as is used on chemist’s lotion droppers for the eye or ear. ‘Goodbye conjecture,’ said Alleyn, ‘and welcome fact.’
May 3rd, 1939, New Zealand.
Copyright
HARPER
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Published by HarperCollinsPublishers 2009
1
Death at the Bar first published in Great Britain by Geoffrey Bles 1940
Ngaio Marsh asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of these works
Copyright © Ngaio Marsh Ltd 1940
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Epub Edition © 2009 ISBN 978-0-007-34447-5
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