Ngaio Marsh - False Scent

“You’ll get the sack one of these days. Come on.” They went downstairs.

“The remaining guests,” Fox said, “are in the second room on the right. They’re the lot who were with deceased up to the time she left the conservatory and the only ones who went outside the reception area before the speeches began. And, by the way, sir, up to the time the speeches started, there was a photographer and a moving camera unit blocking the foot of the stairs and for the whole period a kind of bar with a man mixing drinks right by the backstairs. I’ve talked to the man concerned and he says nobody but the nurse and Florence went up while he was on duty. This is deceased’s sitting-room. Or boudoir. The study is the first on the right.”

“Where’s the quack?”

“In the glasshouse with a hangover. Shall I stir him up?”

“Thank you.”

They separated. Alleyn tapped on the boudoir door and went in.

Pinky sat in an armchair with a magazine, Timon Gantry was finishing a conversation on the telephone, and Bertie, petulant and flushed, was reading a rare edition of ’ Tis Pity She’s a Whore . When they saw Alleyn the two men got up and Pinky put down her magazine as if she was ashamed of it.

Alleyn introduced himself. “This is just to say I’m very sorry to keep you waiting about.”

Gantry said, “It’s damned awkward. I’ve had to tell people over the telephone.”

“There’s no performance involved, is there?”

“No. But there’s a new play going into rehearsal. Opening in three weeks. One has to cope.”

“Of course,” Alleyn said, “one does, indeed,” and went out.

“What a superb-looking man,” Bertie said listlessly, and returned to his play.

Warrender and Charles had the air of silence about them. It was not, Alleyn fancied, the kind of silence, that falls naturally between two cousins united in a common sorrow; they seemed at odds with each other. He could have sworn his arrival was a relief rather than an annoyance. He noticed that the study, like the dressing-room, had been furnished and decorated by a perfectionist with restraint, judgment and a very great deal of money. There was a kind of relationship between the reserve of these two men and the setting in which he found them. He thought that they had probably been sitting there for a long time without speech. A full decanter and two untouched glasses stood between them on a small and exquisite table.

Charles began to rise. Alleyn said, “Please, don’t move,” and he sank heavily back again. Warrender stood up. His eyes were red and his face patched with uneven color.

“Bad business, this,” he said. “What?”

“Yes,” Alleyn said. “Very bad.” He looked at Charles. “I’m sorry, sir, that at the moment we’re not doing anything to make matters easier.”

With an obvious effort Charles said, “Sit down, won’t you? Alleyn, isn’t it? I know your name, of course.”

Warrender pushed a chair forward.

“Will you have a drink?” Charles asked.

“No, thank you very much. I won’t trouble you longer than I can help. There’s a certain amount of unavoidable business to be got through. There will be an inquest and, I’m afraid, a post-mortem. In addition to that we’re obliged to check, as far as we’re able, the events leading to the accident. All this, I know, is very distressing and I’m sorry.”

Charles lifted a hand and let it fall.

Warrender said, “Better make myself scarce.”

“No,” Alleyn said. “I’d be glad if you waited a moment.”

Warrender was looking fixedly at Alleyn. He tapped himself above the heart and made a very slight gesture towards Charles. Alleyn nodded.

“If I may,” he said to Charles, “I’ll ask Colonel Warrender to give me an account of the period before your wife left the party and went up to her room. If, sir, you would like to amend or question or add to anything he says, please do so.”

Charles said, “Very well. Though God knows what difference it can make.”

Warrender straightened his back, touched his Brigade-of-Guards tie, and made his report, with the care and, one would have said, the precision of experience.

He had, he said, been near to Mary Bellamy from the time she left her post by the door and moved through her guests towards the conservatory. She had spoken to one group after another. He gave several names. She had then joined a small party in the conservatory.

Alleyn was taking notes. At this point there was a pause.

Warrender was staring straight in front of him. Charles had not moved.

“Yes?” Alleyn said.

“She stayed in there until the birthday cake was brought in,” Warrender said.

“And the other people in her group stayed there too?”

“No,” Charles said. “I came out and — spoke to two of our guests who — who were leaving early.”

“Yes? Did you return?”

He said wearily, “I told Gracefield, our butler, to start the business with the cake. I stayed in the main rooms until they brought it in.”

Alleyn said, “Yes. And then…?”

“They came in with the cake,” Warrender said. “And she came out and Marchant — her management is Marchant & Company — Marchant gave the birthday speech.”

“And did the other people in the conservatory come out?”

“Yes.”

“With Miss Bellamy?”

Warrender said, “Not with her.”

“After her?”

“No. Before. Some of them. I expect all of them except Marchant.”

“You yourself, sir? What did you do?”

“I came out before she did.”

“Did you stay in the main rooms?”

“No,” he said. “I went into the hall for a moment.” Alleyn waited. “To say goodbye,” Warrender said, “to the two people who were leaving early.”

“Oh yes. Who were they?”

“Feller called Browne and his niece.”

“And having done that you returned?”

“Yes,” he said.

“To the conservatory?”

“No. To the dining-room. That’s where the speech was made.”

“Had it begun when you returned?”

Still looking straight before him, Warrender said, “Finished. She was replying.”

“Really? You stayed in the hall for some time then?”

“Longer,” he said, “than I’d intended. Didn’t realize the ceremony had begun, isn’t it.”

“Do you remember who the other people were? The ones who probably came out before Miss Bellamy from the conservatory?”

“Miss Cavendish and Saracen. And Timon Gantry, the producer-man. Your second-in-command went over all this and asked them to stay.”

“I’d just like, if you don’t mind, to sort it out for myself. Anyone else? The two guests who left early, for instance. Were they in the conservatory party?”

“Yes.”

“And left…?”

“First,” Warrender said loudly.

“So you caught them up in the hall. What were they doing in the hall, sir?”

“Talking. Leaving. I don’t know exactly.”

“You don’t remember to whom they were talking?”

“I cannot,” Charles said, “for the very life of me see why these two comparative strangers, who were gone long before anything happened, should be of the remotest interest to you.”

Alleyn said quickly, “I know that sounds quite unreasonable, but they do at the moment seem to have been the cause of other people’s behaviour.”

He saw that for some reason this observation had disturbed Warrender. He looked at Alleyn as if the latter had said something outrageous and penetrating.

“You see,” Alleyn explained, “in order to establish accident, one does have to make a formal inquiry into the movements of those persons who were nearest to Miss Bellamy up to the time of the accident.”