Ngaio Marsh - Color Scheme

When Dr. Ackrington questioned them about a possible means of returning to the Maori settlement by any route other than the flagged path, they said emphatically that it could not be done. “Even the Maoris,” said Smith, staring avidly at the whisky bottle, “won’t come at that.”

“You can forget it,” said Simon briefly. “He couldn’t do it.”

Gaunt, with a beautifully expressive gesture, covered his eyes with his hands. “This will haunt me,” he said, “for the rest of my life. It’s in here.” He beat the palms of his hands against his temples. “Indelibly fixed. Hag-ridden by a memory.”

“Fiddlesticks,” said Dr. Ackrington briskly.

Gaunt laughed acidly. “Perhaps I am exceptional,” he said with a kind of tragic airiness.

“Well,” said the Colonel most unexpectedly, “if you don’t mind, James, I think I’ll go to bed. I feel rather sick.”

“Good God, Edward, are you demented? Is it possible that you have ever been in a position of authority? When, as we are forced to believe, you were responsible for the conduct of a regiment, did you meet the threat of native uprisings by feeling sick and taking to your bed?”

“Who’s talking about native uprisings? The natives of this country don’t do that sort of thing. They give concerts and mind their own business.”

“You deliberately misconstrue my meaning. The threat of danger — ”

“But,” objected Colonel Claire, opening his eyes very wide, “we aren’t threatened with danger at the moment, James. Either Questing has fallen into a boiling mud cauldron, poor feller, in which case we can do nothing, or else, you know, he hasn’t, in which case there is nothing the matter with him.”

“Good God, man, we’ve an extremely grave responsibility.”

Colonel Claire said loudly: “What in heaven’s name do you mean?”

Dr. Ackrington beat the air with both hands. “If this appalling accident has happened — I say, if it has happened, then the police must be informed.”

“Very well, James,” said the Colonel. “Inform them. I am all for handing over to the proper authorities. Falls would be the one to do that, you know, because he almost saw it happen. Didn’t you?” he asked, gazing mournfully at Mr. Falls.

“I was not as close as that, I think,” said Mr. Falls. “But you are perfectly right, sir. I should inform the police. In point of fact,” he added after a pause, “I have already done so. While Bell was parking the car.”

They gaped at him. “I felt,” he added modestly, “that the responsibility of taking this step devolved upon myself.”

Dikon expected Dr. Ackrington to bristle at this disclosure, but it appeared that his enormous capacity for irritation was exhausted by his brother-in-law, upon whom he now turned his back.

“Is it remotely possible,” he asked Mr. Falls, “that the fellow came on here and has made off somewhere or another?” He looked hard at his nephew. “Such a proceeding,” he said, “would not be altogether out of character.”

“His car’s in the garage,” said Simon.

“Nevertheless he may have gone.”

“I’m afraid it’s impossible,” said Falls precisely. “If he followed the path I must have seen him.”

“And there was the scream,” Dikon heard himself say.

“Exactly. But I agree that we should form a search-party. Indeed, the police have suggested that we do so before they take any steps in the matter. I make one stipulation. Let us avoid the path past Taupo-tapu.”

“ Why ?” demanded Simon, instantly truculent.

“Because the police will wish to make an examination.”

“You talk as if it was murder,” said Gaunt loudly. Smith gave a violent snuffle.

“No, I assure you,” said Mr. Falls politely. “I only talk as if there will be an inquest.”

“You can’t have an inquest without a body,” said Simon.

“Can’t you? But in any case — ”

“Well!” Simon demanded. “What?”

“In any case there may be a body. Later on. Or part of one,” Mr. Falls added impassively.

“And now I’m afraid I really am going to be sick,” said the Colonel. He hurried out to the verandah and was.

The search-party was formed. The Colonel, having recovered from his nausea, astonished them all by offering to go to the Maori settlement and make inquiries.

“If they’ve got wind of it, as you seem to suggest, Bell, they’ll work themselves up into a state. In my experience, half the trouble with native people is not lettin’ them know what you’re up to. The poor feller’s been killed on their property, you know. That makes it a bit tricky. I think I’d better have a word with old Rua.”

“Edward,” said his brother-in-law, “you are incomprehensible. By all means go. The Maori people appear to understand you. They are to be congratulated.”

“I’ll come with you, Dad,” said Simon.

“No, thank you, Sim,” said the Colonel. “You can help with the search-party. You know the terrain, and may prevent anyone else falling into a geyser or somethin’.” He gazed in his startled fashion at Mr. Falls. “I don’t catch everything people say,” he added, “but if I understand you, he must be dead. I mean, why scream? And you say there was nobody else about. Still, you’d better have a look round, I suppose. I think before I go over to the pa , I’d better tell Agnes.”

“Need Agnes be told yet?”

“Yes,” said the Colonel, and went away.

As Mr. Falls still insisted that the section of the path above Taupo-tapu was not to be used, the only way to the native settlement was by the main road. It was agreed that the Colonel should drive there in Dr. Ackrington’s car, satisfy the Maori people, and organize a thorough search of the village. Meanwhile the rest of the party would explore the hills, thermal enclosures, and paths round the Springs. Dikon felt sure that none of them had the smallest expectation of finding Questing. The search seemed futile and horrible but he welcomed it as something that staved off for a time the moment when he would have to think closely about Questing’s death. He was busy shoving away from his thoughts the too vivid picture that formed itself about the memory of a falsetto scream.

It was decided that Dr. Ackrington should take the stretch of kitchen garden and rough paddock behind the house, Dikon the hill, Smith and Simon the hot springs, their surrounding path, and the rough country round the warm lake. Mr. Falls proposed to follow the path across the native thermal reserve until he came within a short distance of Taupo-tapu. The Colonel had suggested that Questing might have broken his ankle and fallen. Nobody believed in this theory. Gaunt said hurriedly that there seemed nowhere for him to go. “I am ready to do anything, anything possible, anything in reason,” he said, “but I am deeply shaken and if you can manage without me I shall be grateful.” They decided to manage without him. Dikon was uncomfortably aware that the other men had dismissed Gaunt as useless and that Simon, at least, had done so with contempt. He watched Simon speak in an undertone to Smith and was miserably angry when Smith glanced at Gaunt and sniggered. So far from being an understatement, Gaunt’s description of himself was, Dikon realized, accurate. Gaunt was profoundly shocked. His hands were unsteady and his face pinched. Lines, normally dormant, netted the corners of his eyes. It was not in Gaunt to conceal emotion but it was an error to suppose that because his distress was unchecked, it was not authentic.

Dikon set out along the path by the Springs to the hill. While they were indoors the moon had risen. Its light brought into strange relief the landscape of Wai-ata-tapu. Plumes of steam stood erect above the pools. Shadows were graved like caverns in the flanks of the hill, but while the higher surfaces, as it drawn in wood by an engraver, were strongly marked in passages of silver and black, the lower planes were wreathed in vapour through which rose manuka bushes, stiffly pallid. These, when Dikon brushed against them, gave off an aromatic scent. As always, in moonlight, there was a feeling of secret expectancy in the air.