Ngaio Marsh - Dead Water

“This morning the chambermaid’s manner was equivocal and at luncheon I found the waiter impertinent. Tonight, however, there is a marked change. It appears that I am, or was, suspected of murder,” said Miss Emily.

“What makes you think so?”

“Before taking my siesta I ventured out on the balcony. There was a group of children on the steps leading to the hotel. When they saw me they began to chant. I will not trouble you with the words. The intention was inescapable.”

“Little animals.”

“Oh, perfectly. It was of no moment.”

There was a tap on the door and a waiter came in.

“Thank you,” said Miss Emily. “You may clear.”

Alleyn watched the man for a moment and then said: “I’d like a word with you, if you please.”

“With me, sir?”

“Yes. I am a superintendent of Scotland Yard, in charge of investigations into the death of Miss Elspeth Cost. I think perhaps the staff of the hotel should be informed that this lady is associated with me in the case and may be regarded as an expert. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. Certainly, sir. I’m sure I hope Madam has no complaints, sir.”

“I hope so, too. She hasn’t made any, but I shall do so if any more idiotic nonsense is circulated. You may say so to anybody that is interested.”

“Thank you, sir,” said the waiter and withdrew.

“ Chose remarquable !” said Miss Emily. “So now, it appears I am a detectrice.”

“It’ll be all over the hotel in five minutes and Portcarrow will have it by morning…About your transport to Dunlowman—”

“Do not trouble yourself. The young man — Patrick — has offered to drive us,” Miss Emily said with an air of amusement.

“I see. It may be pretty rough going, across to the village, if this weather persists.”

“No matter.”

“Before I go, would you mind very much if we went over one incident? The few minutes, round about twenty to eight, when you hung your notice by the spring?”

“Certainly,” Miss Emily said. She repeated her story, she had seen Wally down on the road. He had whooped, chanted, waved his arms and afterwards disappeared. She had seen nobody else, and had returned to the hotel with her umbrella between herself and the prospect.

“Yes,” he said. “I know. I just wanted to hear it again. Thank you, Miss Emily. You don’t ask me how the case progresses, I notice.”

“You would tell me, no doubt, if you wished to do so.”

“Well,” he said. “’I always think it’s unlucky to talk at this stage. But it does progress.”

“Good. Go and have your dinner. If you are not too fatigued I should be glad if you would call upon me later in the evening.”

“When do you retire?”

“Not early. I find I am restless,” said Miss Emily. They fell silent. The wind made a sudden onslaught on her windows. “Perhaps it is the storm,” she said.

“I’ll see if there’s a light under your door. Au revoir , then, Miss Emily.”

“ Au revoir , my dear Rodrigue. Enjoy, if that is not too extravagant a word, your dinner. The dressed crab is not bad. The filet mignon , on the other hand, is contemptible.”

She waved her hand and he left her.

Fox, Bailey and Thompson were already in the dining-room, Alleyn had been given a table to himself. As there was not room at theirs, he took it, but joined them for a minute or two before he did so.

Everyone else had gone except Jenny and Patrick, who sat at the family table, nursing balloon glasses. They had an air of subdued celebration and as often as they looked at each other, broke into smiles. When Jenny saw Alleyn, she waggled her fingers at him.

Alleyn said: “Afraid it’s a case of pressing on, chaps. We’ll meet in the hall, afterwards, and go down to the shop. Have you ordered drinks?”

“Not so far, Mr. Alleyn.”

“Well, have them with me. What shall it be? Waiter!”

They settled for beer, Alleyn went to his own table and was fawned upon by Miss Emily’s waiter. Jenny and Patrick passed by, and Jenny paused to say: “We’re going to try and whip up a bit of joie de vivre in the lounge — as they do in ships. Patrick’s thought up a guessing game. Come and help.”

“I’d love to,” Alleyn said, “but I’m on a guessing game of my own, bad luck to it.” He looked at Patrick. “I hear you’ve offered to do the driving tomorrow. Very civil of you. Miss Emily’s looking forward to it.”

“It’s going to be a rough crossing if this keeps up.”

“I know.”

“Will she mind?”

“Not she. At the age of sixty, she was a queen pin in the Résistance and hasn’t noticed the passage of time. Get her to tell you how she dressed up a couple of kiwis as nuns.”

“Honestly!” Jenny exclaimed.

“It’s quite a story.”

The waiter came up to say that Dr. Mayne had arrived and was asking for Alleyn.

“Right,” Alleyn said. “I’ll come.”

“In the writing-room, sir.”

It was a small deserted place off the entrance hall. Dr. Mayne had removed his mackintosh and hung it over the back of a chair. He was shaking the rain off his hat when Alleyn came in. “What a night!” he said. “I thought I wouldn’t make it.”

“How did you cross?”

“In my launch. Damned if I know how she’ll take it going back. The causeway’s impossible. Sir James thought you’d like to see me, and I had to come over, anyway, to a patient.”

Alleyn said: “I’m glad to see you. Not so much about the p.m.: Curtis made that clear enough. I wanted to check up one or two points. Have a drink, won’t you?”

“I certainly will. Thank you.”

Alleyn found a bell-push. “I hope you won’t mind if I don’t join you,” he said. “I’ve had my allowance and I’ve got a night’s work ahead of me.”

“I suppose you get used to it — like a G.P.”

“Very much so, I imagine. What’ll you have?”

Dr. Mayne had a whisky-and-soda. “I thought I’d take a look at Miss Pride while I’m here,” he said. “She’s recovered, of course, but she had quite a nasty cut in her neck. I suppose I mustn’t ask about the police view of that episode. Or doesn’t it arise?”

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t. It arises in a sort of secondary way, if only to be dismissed. What do you think?”

“On the face of it, Wally Trehern. Inspired by his father, I daresay. It’s Miss Pride’s contention and I think she may well be right.”

“I think so, too. Does it tie up with the general pattern of behaviour — from your point-of-view?”

“Oh, yes. Very characteristic. He gets overexcited and wildish. Sometimes this sort of behaviour is followed up by an attack of petit mal . Not always, but it’s quite often the pattern.”

“Can’t anything be done for the boy?”

“Not much, I’m afraid. When they start these attacks in early childhood it’s a poorish prospect. He should lead a quiet, regular life. It may well be that his home background and all the nonsense of producing him as a showpiece is bad for him. I’m not at all sure,” Dr. Mayne said, “that I shouldn’t have taken his case up with the child welfare people, but there’s been no marked deterioration and I’ve hesitated. Now — Well, now, one wonders.”

“One wonders… what exactly?”

“( A ) if he shouldn’t, in any case, be removed to a suitable institution; and ( B ) whether he’s responsible for heaving that rock at Miss Cost.”

“If he did heave it, it must have been about half an hour after you saw him doing his stuff on Wally’s Way.”

“I know. Sir James puts the death at about eight o’clock, give-and-take twenty minutes. I wish I’d watched the boy more closely but of course there was no reason to do so. I was swinging the launch round.”