Ngaio Marsh - Hand in Glove

“Yes, I see… Was there anybody in the lane?”

“Actually,” Bimbo said casually, “I don’t remember. Or do I? No, there wasn’t.”

“Did you get out of the car?”

“Did I? I believe I did. Yes. I checked to make sure the last clue was still there.”

“ If you don’t know what to do, think it over in the loo .”

“Quite. Was it still there this morning?” Bimbo asked sharply.

“When did you get back?”

“Here? I don’t know exactly.”

“Before Lady Bantling, for instance?”

“Oh, yes. She drove old Period home. That was later. I mean, it was while I was out. I mean, we were both out, but I got home first.”

“You saw her come in?”

“I really don’t remember that I actually saw her. I heard her, I think. I was looking round the ballroom to see everything was all right.”

“Any idea of the time?”

“I’m afraid I really wasn’t keeping a stopwatch on our movements. It was before twelve, because they were all meant to be back by midnight.”

“Yes, I see. And did you leave the house again?”

“I did not.”

“I believe there was some sort of dogfight.”

“My God, yes! Oh, I see what you mean. I went out with the others to the terrace and dealt with it. That ghastly bitch—” Here Bimbo made one or two extremely raw comments upon Pixie.

“She bit you, perhaps?”

“She certainly did,” Bimbo said, nursing his hand.

“Very professional bandage.”

“I had to get the doctor.”

“After the party?”

“That’s right. I fixed it up myself at the time, but it came unstuck.”

“You tied it up?”

Bimbo stared at him. “I did. I went to a bathroom, where there’s a first-aid cupboard, and stuck a bandage on. Temporarily.”

“How long did this take you, do you know?”

“I don’t know. How the hell should I?”

“Well — at a guess.”

“Quite a time. It kept oozing out, but in the end I fixed it. Quite a time, really. I should think all of twenty minutes before I rejoined the party. Or more. Some bloody mongrel tore my trousers and I had to change.”

“Maddening for you,” Alleyn said sympathetically. “Tell me: you are a member of the Hacienda Club?”

Bimbo went very still. Presently he said: “I simply cannot conceive what that has to do with anything at issue.”

“It has, though,” Alleyn said cheerfully. “I just wondered, you see, whether you’d ever run into Leonard Leiss at the Hacienda. His name’s on their list.”

“I certainly have not,” Bimbo said. He moved away. Alleyn wondered whether he was lying.

“I’m no longer a member, and I’ve never seen Leiss, to my knowledge,” Bimbo said, “until yesterday. He got himself asked to our party. In my opinion he’s the rock-bottom. A frightful person.”

“Right. So that settles that. Now, about the business of your stepson and the Grantham Gallery.”

He gave Bimbo time to register the surprise that this change in tactics produced. It was marked by a very slight widening of the eyes and recourse to a cigarette case. Alleyn sometimes wondered how much the cigarette-smoking person scored over an abstainer when it came to police investigations.

“Oh, that!” Bimbo said. “Yes, well, I must say I think it’s quite a sound idea.”

“You talked it over with Bantling?”

“Yes, I did. We went into it pretty thoroughly. I’m all for it.”

“To the extent of taking shares in it yourself?”

Bimbo said airily: “Even that. Other things being equal.”

“What other things?”

“Well — fuller inquiries and all that.”

“And the money of course?”

“Of course.”

“Have you got it?” Alleyn asked calmly.

“I must say!” Bimbo ejaculated.

“In police inquiries,” Alleyn said, “no question is impertinent, I’m afraid.”

“And I’m afraid I disagree with you.”

“Would you mind telling me if you are still an undischarged bankrupt?”

“I mind very much, but the answer is no. The whole thing was cleared up a year ago.”

“That would be at the time of your marriage, I think?”

Bimbo turned scarlet and said not a word.

“Still,” Alleyn went on after a slight pause, “I suppose the Grantham Gallery plan will go forward now, don’t you?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“No reason why it shouldn’t, one imagines, unless Mr. Period, who’s a trustee, objects.”

“In any case it doesn’t arise.”

“No?”

“I mean it’s got nothing to do with this ghastly business.”

“Oh, I see. Well, now,” Alleyn said briskly, “I fancy that’s about all. Except that I ought to ask you if there’s anything in the wide world you can think of that could be of help to us.”

“Having no idea of the circumstances I can hardly be expected to oblige,” Bimbo said with a short laugh.

“Mr. Cartell’s body was found in the open drain outside Mr. Period’s house. He had been murdered. That,” Alleyn lied, “is about all anyone knows.”

“How had he been murdered?”

“Hit on the head, it appears, and smothered.”

“Poor old devil,” said Bimbo. He stared absently at his cigarette. “Look!” he said. “Nobody likes to talk wildly about a thing like this. I mean it just won’t do to put a wrong construction on what may be a perfectly insignificant detail, will it?”

“It’s our job to forget insignificant details.”

“Yes, I know. Of course. All the same—”

“Mr. Dodds, I really think I can promise you I won’t go galloping down a false trail with blinkers over my eyes.”

Bimbo smiled. “O.K.,” he said. “Fair enough. No doubt I’m behaving like the original Silly Suspect or something. It’s just that, when it comes to the point, one doesn’t exactly fancy trotting out something that may turn out to be — well—”

“Incriminating?”

“Well, exactly. Mind you, in principle, I’m for weighing-in with the police. We bellyache about them freely enough but we expect them to protect us. Of course everybody doesn’t see it like that.”

“Not everybody.”

“No. And anyway with all the rot-gut that the longhaired gentry talk about understanding the thugs, it’s up to the other people to show the flag.”

Disregarding a certain nausea in the region of his midriff, Alleyn said: “Quite.”

Bimbo turned away to the window and seemed to be contemplating the landscape. Perhaps because of this, his voice had taken on a different perspective.

“Personally,” Alleyn heard him say, “I’m in favour of capital punishment.”

Alleyn, who was one of an extremely small minority among his brother-officers, said: “Ah, yes?”

“Anyway, that’s nothing to do with the point at issue,” Bimbo said, turning back into the room. “I don’t know why I launched out like this.”

“We can forget it.”

“Yes, of course.”

“You were going to tell me…?”

“Yes, I was. It’s about this bloody fellow Leiss and his ghastly girl. They hung on to the bitter end of the party, of course. I’ve never seen anybody drink more or show it less, I’ll say that for them. Well, the last car was leaving — except his bit of wreckage — and it was about two o’clock. I thought I’d give them the hint. I collected his revolting overcoat and went to hunt them out. I couldn’t find them at first, but I finally ran them down in my study, here, where they had settled in with a bottle of champagne. They were on the sofa with their backs to the door and didn’t hear me come in. They were pretty well bogged down in an advanced necking party. He was talking. I heard the end of the sentence.” Bimbo stopped and frowned at his cigarette. “Of course, it may not mean a damn’ thing.” He looked at Alleyn, who said nothing.