Ngaio Marsh - Dead Water

There was a tap on the door and Mrs. Barrimore came in.

“Miss Pride,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I’ve just heard. I’ve come to see if there’s anything…” She looked at Dr. Mayne.

“Miss Pride’s quite comfortable,” he said. “Jenny’s going to settle her down. I think we’ll leave her in charge, shall we?”

He waited while Mrs. Baltimore said another word or two, and then followed her out of the room. He shut the door, and they moved down the passage.

“Bob,” she said, “what is it? What happened? Has she been attacked?”

“Probably some lout from the village.”

“You don’t think…”

“No.” He looked at her. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Don’t worry so, Margaret.”

“I can’t help it. Did you see Keith?”

“Yes. He’s overdone it, tonight. Flat out in the old bar-parlour. I’ll get him up to bed.”

“Does Patrick know?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“He wasn’t flat out an hour ago. He was in the ugly stages. He — he — was talking so wildly. What he’d do to her — to Miss Pride. You know?”

“My dear girl, he was plastered. Don’t get silly ideas into your head, now, will you? Promise?”

“All right,” she said. “Yes. All right.”

“Good night,” he said and left her there with her fingers against her lips.

On the next day, Tuesday, Miss Emily kept to her room, where in the afternoon she received, in turn, Mr. Nankivell (the Mayor of Portcarrow), Dr. Mayne and the Reverend Mr. Carstairs. On Wednesday, she called at Wally’s cottage. On Thursday she revisited the spring, mounted to her observation post, and remained there, under her umbrella, for a considerable time, conscientiously observed by Sergeant Pender, to whom she had taken a fancy, and by numerous visitors as well as several of the local characters, including Miss Cost, Wally Trehern and his father.

On Friday she followed the same routine — escaping a trip wire, which had been laid across her ascent to the ledge and removed by Mr. Pender two minutes before she appeared on the scene.

An hour later, this circumstance having been reported to him, Superintendent Alfred Coombe rang up Roderick Alleyn at his holiday address.

Alleyn was mowing his host’s tennis court when his wife hailed him from the terrace. He switched the machine off.

“Telephone,” she shouted. “Long distance.”

“Damnation!” he said and returned to the house. “Where’s it from, darling?”

“Portcarrow. District Headquarters. That’ll be Miss Emily, won’t it?”

“Inevitably, I fear.”

“Might it be only to say there’s nothing to report?” Troy asked doubtfully.

“ Most unlikely.”

He answered the call, heard what Coombe had to say about the stone throwing and turned his thumb down for Troy’s information.

“Mind you,” Coombe said, “it might have been some damned Ted, larking about. Not that we’ve had trouble of that sort on the Island. But she’s raised a lot of feeling locally. Seeing what you’ve told us, I thought I ought to let you know.”

“Yes, of course. And you’ve talked to Miss Pride?”

“I have,” said Coombe with some emphasis. “She’s a firm old lady, isn’t she?”

“Gibraltar is as butter compared to her.”

“What say?”

“I said: Yes, she is.”

“I asked her to let me know what her plans might be for the rest of the day. I didn’t get much change out of her. The doctor persuaded her to stay put on Tuesday; but ever since, she’s been up and about — worse luck. She’s taken to sitting on this shelf above the spring and looking at the visitors. Some of them don’t like it.”

“I bet they don’t.”

“The thing is, with this Festival coming along tomorrow the place is filling up and we’re going to be fully extended. I mean, keeping observation, as you know, takes one man all his time.”

“Of course. Can you get reinforcements?”

“Not easily. But I don’t think it’ll come to that. I don’t reckon it’s warranted. I reckon she’ll watch her step after this. But she’s tricky. You’ve got to face it: she is tricky.”

“I’m sorry to have landed you with this, Coombe.”

“Well, I’d rather know. I’m glad you did. After all, she’s in my district — and if anything did happen…”

“ Has there been anything else?”

“That’s why I’m ringing. My chap, Pender, found a trip wire stretched across the place where she climbs to her perch. He was hanging about, waiting for her to turn up, and noticed it. Workmanlike job. Couple of iron pegs and a length of fine clothesline. Could have been nasty. There’s a five-foot drop to the pond. And rocks.”

“Did you tell her?”

“Yes. She said she’d have spotted it for herself.”

“When was this?”

“This morning. About an hour ago.”

“Damn.”

“Quite so.”

“Does she suspect anyone?”

“Well, yes. She reckons it’s a certain lady. Yes, Mr. Mayor. Good morning, sir. I won’t keep you a moment.”

“Has your Mayor just walked in?”

“That’s right.”

“Did you, by any chance, mean the shopkeeper? Miss Cost, is it?”

“That’s right.”

“I’ll ring up Miss Pride. I suppose she knocks off for lunch, does she? Comes off her perch?”

“That’s right. Quite so.”

“What’s the number of the pub?”

“Portcarrow 1212.”

“You’ll keep in touch?”

“That’ll be quite all right, sir. We’ll do that for you.”

“Thank you,” Alleyn said. “No matter what they say, I’ve got great faith in the police. Good-bye.”

He heard Coombe give a chuckle, and hung up.

“Oh, Rory!” his wife said. “Not again? Not this time? It’s being such fun, our holiday!”

“I’m going to talk to her. Come here to me and keep your fingers crossed. She’s hell when she’s roused. Come here.”

He kept his arm round her while he waited for the call to go through. When at last Miss Emily spoke, from her room at the Boy-and-Lobster, Troy could hear her quite clearly though she had some difficulty in understanding, since Miss Emily spoke in French. So did Alleyn.

“Miss Emily, how are you getting on?”

“Perfectly well, I thank you, Rodrigue.”

“Have there been unpleasantnesses of the sort that were threatened?”

“Nothing of moment. Do not disarrange yourself on my account.”

“You have been hurt.”

“It was superficial.”

“You might well have been hurt again.”

“I think not.”

“Miss Emily, I must ask you to leave the Island.”

“In effect: you have spoken to the good Superintendent Coombe. It was kind, but it was not necessary. I shall not leave the Island.”

“Your behaviour is, I’m afraid, both foolish and inconsiderate.”

“Indeed? Explain yourself.”

“You are giving a great deal of anxiety and trouble to other people. You are being silly, Miss Emily.”

“That,” said Miss Emily distinctly, “was an improper observation.”

“Unfortunately, not. If you persist I shall feel myself obliged to intervene.”

“Do you mean, my friend,” said Miss Emily with evident amusement, “that you will have me arrested?”

“I wish I could. I wish I could put you under protective custody.”

“I am already protected by the local officer, who is, for example, a man of intelligence. His name is Pender.”

“Miss Emily, if you persist you will force me to leave my wife.”

“That is nonsense.”

“Will you give me your word of honour that you will not leave the hotel unaccompanied?”

“Very well,” said Miss Emily after a pause. “Understood.”