Ngaio Marsh - Died in the Wool

“Did you all go up together? You and Miss Lynne and Mrs. Aceworthy?”

“No, we straggled. The Ace-pot went first and I know she had a bath because she was in it when I wanted to brush my teeth. I remember hearing the telephone give our ring just before I came out of this room and I was going to answer it when I heard Fabian speaking. At least, I thought it was Fabian. You see I saw — I thought I saw you whisk out of doors.”

“You saw my overcoat whisk out.”

“Well,” said Ursula, “it’s very dark in the hall.”

She looked fixedly at Alleyn. “You swear he’s all right?”

“He was perfectly comfortable and sound asleep when I left him and he’s safe from any further assault. You can ring up a doctor when the Bureau opens in the morning, indeed I should like to get a medical opinion myself, or — is there anyone near the Pass on your party line?”

“Four miles,” said Douglas.

“If you’re anxious, couldn’t you get these people to drive over the Pass and ring up a doctor? I don’t think it’s necessary but isn’t it possible?”

“Yes, I suppose it is,” said Ursula. “If I could just see him,” she added.

“Very well. When I’ve finished, you may go in with me, wake him up and ask him if he’s all right.”

“You can be rather a pig,” said Ursula, “can’t you?”

“This is a serious matter,” said Alleyn without emphasis.

She flushed delicately and he thought she was startled and bewildered by his disregard of her small attempt at lightness. “I know it is,” she said.

“You heard me answer the telephone, didn’t you, and thought I was Losse? You caught sight of him going out and mistook him for me. What did you do then?”

“I called out ‘Good- night’ to Terry, lit my candle and went upstairs. I undressed and when the Ace-pot came out of the bathroom I washed and brushed my teeth and went to bed.”

“Seeing nobody?”

“Only her — Mrs. Aceworthy.”

“And you, Miss Lynne? You were after Miss Harme?”

She had moved forward and stood behind Ursula. Douglas was close beside her but she seemed to be unaware of him. When he slipped his hand under her arm she freed herself, but with a slight movement as if she loosed a sleeve that had caught on a piece of furniture. She answered Alleyn rapidly, looking straight before her: “It was cold. Douglas had left the French window open. He was on the lawn. I said good-night to him and asked him to put the screen in front of the fire. He called out that he would. I went into the hall and lit my candle. I heard a voice in the study and was not sure if it was yours or Fabian’s. I went up to my room. Douglas came upstairs and tapped on my door. He said good-night. I put away some things I had been mending and then undressed. I heard someone come out of the bathroom, it was Mrs. Aceworthy’s step. Ursula said something to her. I–I read for a minute or two and then I went to the bathroom and returned and got into bed.”

“Did you go to sleep?”

“Not at once.”

“You read, perhaps?”

“Yes. For a — yes, I read.”

“What was your book?”

“Really,” said Ursula impatiently, “can it possibly matter?”

“It was some novel,” said Terence. “I’ve forgotten the title. Some spy story, I think it is.”

“And you were still awake when I came upstairs and spoke to Miss Harme?”

“I was still awake.”

“Yes, your candles were alight. Were you still reading?”

“Yes,” she said, after a pause.

“The spy story must have had some merit,” Alleyn said with a smile. She ran her tongue over her lips.

“Did you hear anyone other than Mrs. Aceworthy and Miss Harme come upstairs?”

“Yes. More than one person. I thought I heard you speaking to Fabian or Douglas. Or it might have been Fabian speaking to Douglas. Your voices are alike.”

“Anyone on the backstairs?”

“I couldn’t hear from my room.”

“Did you use the backstairs at all, during this period, Markins?”

“No, sir,” said Markins woodenly.

“I’d like to hear what Markins was doing,” said Douglas suddenly.

“He has already given me an account of his movements,” Alleyn rejoined. “He was on his way up the back path to the track when he thought he saw me. Later he heard a voice which he mistook for mine. He continued on his way and met nobody. He visited the manager’s cottage and returned. I met him. Together we explored the track and discovered Losse, lying unconscious on the branch track near the wool-shed.”

“So,” said Douglas, raising an extremely obvious eyebrow at Alleyn, “Markins was almost on the spot at the critical time.” Alleyn heard Markins sigh windily. Tommy Johns said quickly: “He was up at our place, Captain, and I talked to him. There’s nothing funny about that.”

“Supposing we take you next, Mr. Johns,” said Alleyn. “Were you at home all the evening?”

“I went down to the ram paddock after tea — about half-past six, it was, and I looked in at the men’s quarters on my way back. That lovely cook of theirs has made a job of it this time, Captain. Him and Albert are both packed up. Singing hymns and heading for the willies.”

“Tcha!” said Douglas.

“And then?” Alleyn asked.

“I went home. The half-past seven program started up on the radio just after I got in. I didn’t go out again.”

“And Markins arrived — when?”

“Round about a quarter to eight. The eight o’clock program came on just as he left.”

“It was a quarter to eight by radio when I left here, sir,” said Markins, “and five past when I got back and wound the kitchen clock.”

“You seem to have taken an interest in the time,” said Douglas, staring at him.

“I always do, sir. Yes.”

“Mr. Johns,” said Alleyn, “have you witnesses that you stayed at home from half-past seven onwards?”

Tommy Johns drew down his brows and stuck out his upper lip. “He is like a monkey,” Alleyn thought.

“The wife was about,” said Tommy. “Her and Mrs. Duck. Mrs. Duck dropped in after she’d finished here.”

“Ah, yes,” Alleyn thought. “The wife!” And aloud he said: “They were in the room with you?”

“They were in the front room. Some of the time. I was in the kitchen.”

“With Cliff?”

“That’s right,” said Tommy Johns quickly.

“Except for the time when you sent Cliff down here with the paper?”

Cliff made a brusque movement with his hands.

“Oh that!” said Tommy loudly, too easily. “Yes, that’s right, he ran down with it, didn’t he? That’s right. Only away a minute or two. I’d forgotten.”

“You came here,” Alleyn said to Cliff, “while I was in the room. You went away as I was saying I’d left my cigarette case in the annex and would go and fetch it.”

“I never heard that,” said Cliff. He cleared his throat and added hurriedly, as if the words were irrelevant: “I went straight back. I went out by the kitchen door. Mr. Markins saw me. I was home when he came up a few minutes later. I never heard anything about anybody going out from here.”

“Did you hear or see Mr. Losse, or anyone at all, as you went back?”

“How could I? He left after me. I mean,” said Cliff, turning very white, “he must have left after me because he was here when I went away.”

“No. He was upstairs.”

“I mean upstairs. He was going upstairs when I came out.”

“I see. Which way did you take going home?”

“The kitchen path. Then I cut across the hill and through the fence. That brings you out on the main track, just below the fork off to the wool-shed.”

“And you heard nothing of anyone else?”