Overture to Death (21 page)

But Alleyn saw a gay little drawing-room with a delicate straw-coloured lady, whose good nature did not stretch beyond a very definite point, and he thought he understood Dr. Templett.

“I think,” he said, “you had better give us a complete time-table of your movements from two-thirty on Friday up to eight o’clock last night. We shall check it, but we’ll make the process an impersonal sort of business.”

“But for those ten minutes in the hall, I’m all right,” said Templett. “God, I was with her all the time, until I shut the window! Ask her how long it took! I wasn’t away two minutes over the business. Surely to God she’ll at least bear me out in that. She’s nothing to lose by it.”

“She shall be asked,” said Alleyn.

Templett began to give the names of all the houses he had visited on his rounds. Fox took them down.

Alleyn suddenly asked Blandish to find out how long the Pen Cuckoo telephone had been disconnected by the falling branch. Blandish rang up the exchange.

“From eight-twenty until the next morning.”

“Yes,” said Alleyn. “Yes.”

Dr. Templett’s voice droned on with its flat recital of time and place.

“Yes, I hunted all day Friday. I got home in time to change and go to the five o’clock rehearsal. The servants can check that. When I got home again I found this urgent message… I was out till after midnight. Mrs. Bains at Mill Farm. She was in labour twenty-four hours… yes…”

“May I interrupt?” asked Alleyn. “”Yesterday morning, at Pen Cuckoo, Mrs. Ross did not leave the car?”

“No.”

“Were you shown into the study?”

“Yes.”

“You were there alone?”

“Yes,” said Templett, showing the whites of his eyes. “Dr. Templett, did you touch the box with the automatic?”

“Before God, I didn’t.”

“One more question. Last night did you use all your powers of authority and persuasion to induce Miss Prentice to allow Miss Campanula to take her place?”

“Yes, but — she wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Will you describe again how you found her?”

“I told you last night. I came in late. I thought Dinah would be worried and after I’d changed, I went along to the women’s dressing-room to show her I was there. I heard some one snivelling and moaning, and through the open door I saw Miss Prentice in floods of tears, rocking backwards and forwards and holding her hand. I went in and looked at it. No doctor in his senses would have let her thump the piano. She
couldn’t
have done it. I told her so, but she kept on saying, ‘I will do it. I will do it.’ I got angry and spoke my mind. I couldn’t get any further with her. It was damned near time we started and I wasn’t even made-up.”

“So you fetched Miss Copeland and her father, knowing the rector would possibly succeed where you had failed.”

“Yes. But I tell you it was physically impossible for her to use her finger. I could have told her that — ”

He stopped short.

“Yes? You could have told her that, how long ago?” said Alleyn.

“Three days ago.”

iv

Smith returned.

“It’s Sergeant Roper, sir. He says it’s very particular indeed and he knows Mr. Alleyn would want to hear it.”

“Blast!” said Blandish. “All right, all right.”

Smith left the door open. Alleyn saw Nigel crouched over an anthracite stove and Roper, sweating and expectant, in the middle of the room.

“Right oh, Roper,” said Smith audibly. Roper hurriedly removed his helmet, cleared his throat, and marched heavily into the room.

“Well, Roper?” said Blandish.

“Sir,” said Roper, “I have a report.” He took his official note-book from a pocket in his tunic and opened it, bringing it into line with his nose. He began to read very rapidly in a high voice.

“This afternoon, November 28th, at 4 p.m. being on duty at the time outside the parish hall of Winton St. Giles I was approached and accosted by a young female. She was well-known to me being by name Gladys Wright (Miss) of Top Lane, Winton. The following conversation eventuated. Miss Wright enquired of me if I was waiting for my girl or my promotion. Myself (P.S. Roper): I am on duty, Miss Wright, and would take it kindly if you would pass along the lane. Miss Wright: Look what our cat’s brought in. P.S. Roper: And I don’t want no lip or saucy boldness. Miss Wright: I could tell you something and I’ve come along to do it, but seeing you’re on duty maybe I’ll keep it for your betters. P.S. Roper: If you know anything, Gladys, you’d better speak up for the law comes down with majesty on them that aids and abets and withholds. Miss Wright: What will you give me? The succeeding remarks are not evidence and bear no connection with the matter in hand. They are therefore omitted.”

“What the hell did she tell you?” asked Blandish. “Shut that damned book and come to the point.”

“Sir, the girl told me in her silly way that she came down to the hall at six-thirty on yesterday evening being one of them selected to usher. She let herself in and finding herself the first to arrive, living nearby and not wishing to return home, the night being heavy rain with squalls and her hair being artificially twisted up with curls which to my mind—”

“
What did she tell you
?”

“She told me that at six-thirty she sat down as bold as brass and played ‘Nearer my Gawd to Thee’ with the soft pedal on,” said Roper.

i

Sergeant Roper, sweating lightly, allowed an expression of extreme gratification to suffuse his enormous face. The effect of his statement on his superiors left nothing to be desired. Superintendent Blandish stared at his sergeant like a startled codfish, Detective-Inspector Fox pushed his glasses up his forehead and brought his hands down smartly on his knees. Dr. Templett uttered in a whisper a string of amazing blasphemies. Chief Inspector Alleyn pulled his own nose, made a peculiar grimace, and said:

“Roper, you shall be hung with garlands, led through the village, and offered up at the Harvest Festival.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Roper.

“Where,” asked Alleyn, “is Gladys Wrieht?”

Roper flexed his knees and pointed with his thumb over his shoulder.

“Stuck to her like glue, I have. I telephoned Fife from the hall to relieve me, keeping the silly maiden under observation the while. I brought her here, sir, on the bar of my bike, all ten stones of her, and seven mile if it’s an inch.”

“Magnificent. Bring her in, Roper.”

Roper went out.

“I didn’t get there till half-past seven,” whispered Dr. Templett, shaking his finger at Alleyn. “Not till half-past seven. You see! You see! The hall was full of people. Ask Dinah Copeland. She’ll tell you I never went on the stage. Ask Copeland. He was sitting on the stage. I saw him through the door when I called him down. Ask any of them. My God!”

Alleyn reached out a long arm and gripped his wrist.

“Steady, now,” he said. “Fox, there’s the emergency flask in that case.”

He got Templett to take the brandy before Roper returned.

“Miss Gladys Wright, sir,” said Roper, flinging back the door and expanding his chest.

He shepherded his quarry into the room with watchful pride, handed her over, and retired behind the door to wipe his face down excitedly with the palm of his hand.

Miss Wright was the large young lady whom Alleyn had encountered in the rectory hall. Under a mackintosh she wore a plushy sort of dress with a hint of fur about it. Her head was indeed a mass of curls. Her face was crimson and her eyes black.

“Good-evening, Miss Wright,” said Alleyn. “I’m afraid we’ve put you to a lot of trouble. Will you sit down?”

He gave her his own chair and sat on the edge of the desk.

Miss Wright backed up to the chair rather in the manner of a draught-horse, got half-way towards sitting on it, but thought better of this, and giggled.

“Sergeant Roper tells us you’ve got some information for us,” continued Alleyn.

“Aw him!” said Miss Wright. She laughed and covered her mouth with her hand.

“Now I understand that you arrived at the parish hall at half-past six last night. Is that right?”

“That’s right.”

“Sure of the time?”

“Yass,” said Miss Wright. “I heard the clock strike, see?”

“Good. How did you get in?”

“I got the key from outside and came in by the back door,” said Miss Wright, and looked at the floor. “Miss Dinah was soon after me.”

“Nobody else was in the hall. You switched on the light, I suppose?”

“Yas, that’s right.”

“What did you do next?”

“Well, I looked round, like.”

“Yes. Have a good look round?”

“Aaw, yaas, I suppose so.”

“Back and front of the stage, what? Yes. And then?”

“I took off my mac. and put out my programmes, like, and counted up my change, see, for selling.”

“Yes?”

“Aw deer,” said Miss Wright, “it does give me such a turn when I think about it.”

“I’m sure it does.”

“You know! When you think! What I was saying to Charley Roper, you never know. And look, I never thought of it till this afternoon at the Children’s Service. I was collecting up hymn-books and it come all over me, so when I see Charley Roper hanging about outside the hall, I says, ‘Pardon me, Mr. Roper,’ I says, ‘but I have a piece of information I feel it my duty to pass on.’ ”

“Very proper,” said Alleyn, with a glance at Roper.

“Yass, and I told him. I told him I might be laying where she is, seeing what I did!”

“What did you do?”

“I sat down and played a hymn on that rickety old affair. Aw,
well
!”

“Did you play loudly or softly?”

“Well, well, both, ackshully. I was seeing which pedal worked best on that shocking old affair, see?”

“Yes,” said Alleyn. “I see. Did you put the pedal on suddenly and hard?”

“Aw no. Because one time the soft pedal went all queer because Cissie Dewry put her foot on it, so we always use it gentle-like. I didn’t try it but the bare once. The loud one worked better,” said Miss Wright.

“Yes,” agreed Alleyn. “I expect it would.”

“Well, it did,” confessed Miss Wright, and giggled again.

“But you did actually press the soft pedal down?” insisted Alleyn.

“Yass. Firm like. Not sharp.”

“Exactly. Was there a piece of music on the rack?”

“Oo yass, Miss Prentice’s piece. I never touched it. Truly!”

“I’m sure you didn’t. Miss Wright, suppose you were in a court of law, and someone put a Bible in your hand, and you were asked to swear solemnly in God’s name that at about twenty to seven last night you put your foot firmly on the left pedal, would you swear it?”

Miss Wright giggled.

“It’s very important,” said Alleyn. “You see, there would be a prisoner in the court on trial for murder. Please think very carefully indeed. Would you make this statement on oath?”

“Oh
yass
,” said Miss Wright.

“Thank you,” said Alleyn. He looked at Templett. “I don’t think we need keep you, Dr. Templett, if you are anxious to get home.”

“I–I’ll drive you back,” said Templett.

“That’s very nice of you — I shan’t be long.” He turned back to Gladys Wright. “Did any one come in while you were playing?”

“I stopped when I heard them coming. Cissie Dewry come first and then all the other girls.”

“Did you notice any of the performers?”

“No. We was all talking round the door, like.” She rolled her eyes at Roper. “That was when you come, Mr. Roper.”

“Well, Roper?”

“They were in the entrance, sir, giggling and cackling in their female manner, sure enough.”

“Oo you
are
,” said Miss Wright.

“And had any of the company arrived at that time?”

“Yes, sir,” said Roper. “Miss Copeland was there ahead of me, but she went to the back door same as all the performers, I don’t doubt. And the Pen Cuckoo party was there, sir, but I didn’t know that till I went round to back of stage when I found them bedizening their faces in the Sunday-school rooms.”

“So that there was a moment when the ladies were at the front door, talking, and the Pen Cuckoo party and Miss Copeland were behind the scenes?”

“That’s right, sir.”

“They were ringing and ringing at the telephone,” interjected Miss Wright, “all the time us girls was there.”

“And you say, Miss Wright, that none of the performers came into the front of the hall.”

“Not one. Truly.”

“Sure?”

“Yass. Certain sure. We would have seen them. Soon after that the doors were open and people started to come in.”

“Where did you stand?”

“Up top by the stage, ushering the two shillingses.”

“So if anybody had come down to the piano from the stage you would have seen them?”

“Nobody came down. Not ever. I’d take another Bible oath on that,” said Miss Wright, with considerable emphasis.

“Thank you,” said Alleyn. “That’s splendid. One other question. You were at the Reading Circle meeting at the rectory on Friday night. Did you go home by the gate into the wood. The gate that squeaks?”

“Oo
no
! None of us girls goes that way at night.” Miss Wright giggled, extensively. “It’s too spooky. Oo, I wouldn’t go that way for anything. The others, they all went together, and my young gentleman, he took me home by lane.”

“So you’re sure nobody used the gate?”

“Yass, for sure. They’d all gone,” said Miss Wright, turning scarlet, “before us. And we used lane.”

“You passed the hall, then. Were there any lights in the hall?”

“Not in front.”

“You couldn’t see the back windows, of course. Thank you so much, Miss Wright. We’ll get you to sign a transcript of everything you have told us. Read it through carefully, first. If you wouldn’t mind waiting in the outer office I think I can arrange for you to be driven home.”

“Oo well, thanks ever so,” said Miss Wright, and went out.

ii

Alleyn looked at Templett.

“I ought to apologise,” he said, “I’ve given you a damned bad hour.”

“I don’t know why you didn’t arrest me,” said Templett with a shaky laugh. “Ever since I realised I’d left that bloody note in the dressing-room I’ve been trying to think how I could prove I hadn’t rigged the automatic. There seemed to be no possible proof. Even now I don’t see— Oh, well, it doesn’t matter. Nothing much matters. If you don’t mind, I’ll wait outside in the car. I’d like a breath of fresh air.”

“Certainly.”

Dr. Templett nodded to Blandish and went out.

“Will I shadow the man?” asked Roper, earnestly.

Blandish’s reply was unprintable.

“You might ask Mr. Bathgate to drive your witness home, Roper,” said Alleyn. “Let her sign her statement first. Tell Mr. Bathgate I’m returning with Dr. Templett. And Roper, as tactfully as you can, just see how Dr. Templett’s getting on. He’s had a shock.”

“Yes, sir.”

Roper went out.

“He’s got about as much tact as a cow,” said Blandish.

“I know, but at least he’ll keep an eye on Templett.”

“The lady let him down, did she?”

“With a thump that shook the crockery.”

“S-s-s-s!” said Blandish appreciatively. “Is that a fact?”

“He’s had two narrow escapes,” said Fox, “and
that’s
a fact. The lady’s let him down with a jerk and he’s lucky the hangman won’t follow suit.”

“Fox,” said Alleyn, “you have the wit of a Tyburn broadsheet, but there’s matter in it.”

“I don’t know where I am,” said Blandish. “Are we any nearer to an arrest?”

“A good step,” said Alleyn. “The pattern emerges.”

“What does that mean, Mr. Alleyn?”

“Well,” said Alleyn, apologetically, “I mean all these mad little things like the box, and the broken telephone, and the creaking gate — I’m not so sure of the onion—”

“The onion!” cried Fox, triumphantly. “I know all about the onion, Mr. Alleyn. Georgie Biggins is responsible for that, the young limb. I saw him this afternoon and asked him, as well as every other youngster in the village, about the box. He’s going round as pleased as punch, letting on he’s working at the case with the Yard. Answers me as cool as you please, and when I’m going he says, ‘Did you find an onion in the teapot, mister?’ Well, it seems that they had a tea-party on the stage, with Miss Prentice and Miss Campanula quarrelling about which should pour out. If the young devil didn’t go and put an onion in the pot. It seems they each had to take the lid off and look in the pot and this was another of George’s bright ideas. I suppose someone found it in time and threw it into the box on the floor, where you picked it up.”

“Dear little Georgie,” said Alleyn. “Dear little boy! We’ve had red herrings before now, Fox, but never a Spanish onion. Well, as I was saying, all these mad little things begin to bear some sort of relationship.”

“That’s nice, Mr. Alleyn,” said Fox, woodenly. “You’re going to tell us you know who did it, I suppose?”

“Oh, yes,” said Alleyn looking at him in genuine surprise. “I do
now
, Brer Fox. Don’t you?”

iii

When a man learns that his mistress, faced with putting herself in a compromising position, will quite literally see him hanged first, he is not inclined for conversation. Templett drove slowly back towards Chipping and was completely silent until the first cottage came into view. Then he said, “I don’t see how any one could have done it. The piano was safe at six-thirty. The girl used the soft pedal. It was safe.”

“Yes,” agreed Alleyn.

“I suppose, putting the pedal down softly, the pressure wasn’t enough to pull the trigger?”

“It’s a remarkably light pull,” said Alleyn. “I’ve tried.”

Templett brushed his hand across his eyes. “I suppose my brain won’t work.”

“Give the thing a rest.”

“But how could anybody fix that contraption inside the piano after half-past six when those girls were skylarking about in the front of the house? It’s impossible.”

“If you come down to the hall to-morrow night, I’ll show you.”

“All right. Here’s your pub. What time’s the inquest? I’ve forgotten. I’m all to pieces.” He pulled up the car.

“Eleven o’clock to-morrow.”

Alleyn and Fox got out. It was a cold windy evening. The fine weather had broken again and it had begun to rain. Alleyn stood with the door open and looked at Templett. He leaned heavily on the wheel and stared with blank eyes at the windscreen.

“The process of convalescence,” said Alleyn, “should follow the initial shock. Take heart of grace, you will recover.”

“I’ll go home,” said Templett. “Good-night.”

“Good-night.”

He drove away.

They went upstairs to their rooms.

“Let’s swap stories, Brer Fox,” said Alleyn. “I’ll lay my case, for what it’s worth, on the dressing-table. I want a shave. You can open your little heart while I’m having it. I don’t think we’ll unburden ourselves to Bathgate just yet.”

They brought each other up-to-date before they went downstairs again in search of a drink.

They found Nigel alone in the bar parlour.

“I’m not going to pay for so much as half a drink and I intend to drink a very great deal. I’ve had the dullest afternoon of my life and all for your benefit. Miss Wright smells. When I took her to her blasted cottage she made me go in to tea with her brother who turns out to be the village idiot. Yes, and on the way back from Duck Cottage, your lovely car sprang a puncture. Furthermore — ”