Ngaio Marsh - Death And The Dancing Footman

This was spoken in what Troy called “the official manner,” and it was the first Chloris and Mandrake had heard of this manner. Neither of them answered, and Alleyn knew that with one short speech he had established an atmosphere of uneasy expectation. He was right. Until this moment Chloris and Mandrake had wished above all things for the assurance that Alleyn would take charge. Now that, with a certain crispness and a marked change of manner, he had actually done so, each of them felt an icy touch of apprehension. They had set in motion a process which they were unable to stop. They were not yet nervous for themselves but instinctively they moved a little nearer to each other. They had called in the Yard.

“First of all,” said Alleyn, “I should like to go over the notes, putting them into my own words to make quite sure I’ve got hold of the right ends of all the sticks. Will you stop me if I’m wrong? The death of this young man, William Compline, occurred at about ten minutes past ten yesterday evening. He was sitting in a room which communicates with a library, a small sitting-room, and a hall. Just before the discovery of his body, the library was occupied by his host, Mr. Jonathan Royal, by Lady Hersey Amblington, by Miss Chloris Wynne, by Mr. Aubrey Mandrake, and by Mr. Nicholas Compline. The small sitting-room had been occupied by Dr. Francis Hart; but, on his own statement and that of the footman Thomas, it appears that Dr. Hart left the sitting-room — you call it a ‘boudoir,’ I see — at the same time that Thomas came into the hall with a grog tray which he took into the library. That was some minutes after Nicholas Compline had left his brother and joined the party in the libarary, and quite definitely before you all heard the wireless turned on in the smoking-room. The wireless was turned on after the drinks came in. You agreed you would like to hear it, and Nicholas Compline opened the door and called out to his brother. A screen hid William but Nicholas heard someone cross the room and a moment later the wireless struck up ‘Boomps-a-Daisy.’ ”

“That’s it,” said Chloris. “Nick left the door open.”

“Yes. You endured the dance music and in a minute or so the news came on the air. At about this moment Mr. Royal went out to reassure himself that Dr. Hart was not in the ‘boudoir.’ He states that he did not enter the ‘boudoir,’ but saw there was no light under the door. He visited a cloak-room and, having met no one in the hall, returned before the news ended.”

“Yes.”

“All right. Well now, I understand that the wireless had been in use not long before. It’s not likely, then, that the music was delayed by any warming-up process?”

“No,” said Chloris. “I thought of that but it seems that the radio had been switched on all the time and wouldn’t need to warm up. As soon as Bill turned the volume control it’d come up.

“As soon as the volume control was turned, at all events,” said Alleyn, “and it must have been turned.”

“By William,” said Mandrake, “or his murderer. Exactly.”

“And you see,” Chloris added, “we asked for it and it was at once turned on. By Somebody .”

“Yes. We now come to the curious episode of the dancing footman. The music follows Thomas’ re-entry into the hall when he saw Dr. Hart on the stairs. Therefore, it seems, Dr. Hart did not turn up the volume control. Now it appears that Thomas, arrested by the strains of a composition known as ‘Boomps-a-Daisy,’ was moved to dance. As long as the music continued, Thomas, a solitary figure in the hall, capered, clapped his hands, slapped his knees and stuck out his stern in a rhythmic sequence. When the music stopped, so did Thomas. He left the hall as the news bulletin began. Then we have Mr. Royal’s short excursion; and lastly, some minutes later, Lady Hersey Amblington, carrying a tumbler, walked from the library into the smoking-room, re-appeared in the doorway, returned into the smoking-room and switched off the radio. She then called out to her cousin, Mr. Royal, who joined her. Finally she came back to the library and summoned you, Mr. Mandrake. You went into the smoking-room and found William Compline there, dead. It was somewhere about this time that you trod on a drawing-pin which stuck in the sole of your shoe.”

“Yes.”

“The instrument used by the assailant,” said Alleyn with a private grimace over the police-court phrase, “seems to have been a Maori mere which was one of a collection of weapons hanging on the smoking-room wall. Which wall?”

“What? Oh, on the right from the library door. There’s a red leather screen inside the door and this unspeakable club was just beyond it.”

“I see you’ve given me a very useful sketch-plan. Would you mark the position on the wall? I’ll put a cross and you shall tell me if it’s in the right place.”

Chloris took the paper and showed it to Mandrake, who slowed down, glanced at it, nodded, and accelerated. James Bewling had got hold of a set of chains in Chipping, and the wheels bit well into their old tracks.

“Right,” said Alleyn. “During this time, two members of the party were upstairs. They were Mrs. Compline and Madame Lisse, who you tell me is actually Mrs. Francis Hart.” He paused. Neither Chloris nor Mandrake spoke.

“That’s right, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” said Chloris, “that’s it.”

“As far as we know,” said Mandrake unwillingly.

“As far as we know,” Alleyn agreed. “At all events we know that neither of them could have come downstairs while Thomas was there. If it was anybody other than William Compline who turned up the wireless, this person must have entered the room after Nicholas Compline left it and remained there until after Thomas left the hall. If, on the other hand, it was William himself who turned up the wireless, his murderer must have entered the room after Thomas left the hall, and made his get-away before Lady Hersey went in with the drink.”

“Avoiding Jonathan Royal,” added Mandrake. “Don’t forget he crossed the hall twice.”

“Oh,” said Alleyn vaguely, “I hadn’t forgotten that. Now before we leave these, the crucial periods as I see them, I pause to remind myself that the communicating door between the smoking-room and the ‘boudoir’ was locked on the smoking-room side.”

“Yes,” said Mandrake. “I ought to have said, I think, that there is nowhere in the smoking-room where anybody could hide. The screen’s no good because of the door into the library. I think I’m right in saying the murderer must have come in by the hall door.”

“It looks like it,” Alleyn agreed. “Avoiding the dancing footman and Mr. Royal.”

“Somebody could hide in the hall,” said Chloris suddenly. “We’d thought of that.”

“There’s still the dancing footman. He defines the periods when it would have been possible for the murderer to enter or leave the smoking-room.”

“Yes,” agreed Mandrake. “Thomas continued his antics until the music stopped, and that leaves a margin of a few minutes before Lady Hersey entered the room. The ‘boudoir’ is no good, because the door was still locked. I know that.”

“Then,” said Chloris slowly, “doesn’t it look as if the crucial time is the time when the murderer left the room? Because, whether he worked the wireless or not, he could only have got away after Thomas had left the hall.”

“Top marks for deduction, Miss Wynne,” said Alleyn.

“It’s a grim notion,” said Mandrake suddenly, “to think of us all sitting there calling for the news. If it was Hart, imagine him having to pull himself together and turn up the wireless!”

“Don’t,” said Chloris.

Alleyn had, with some difficulty in the jolting car, made a series of marginal notes. He now glanced up and found Chloris leaning her arm along the front seat and looking at him.