Ngaio Marsh - Death And The Dancing Footman

“I suppose,” Alleyn said, “Dr. Hart and Madame Lisse have often visited Highfold?”

“No, sir. Only once previously. We had a ball in aid of the Polish refugees, and they both attended. That was in December, sir.”

“Has Mr. Royal visited them?”

“I believe so, sir. I believe Mr. Royal dined with Mrs. Lisse, if that is the lady’s name, not long after the ball. I understand the Doctor was present on that occasion. Shortly afterwards he presented Mr. Royal with That Garment, sir.”

“The Tyrolese cape?”

“Exactly so, sir,” said Caper after closing his eyes for a second.

“It wouldn’t be right, then, to say that the entire party was well known to the staff?”

“No, sir. Her ladyship and Mrs. Compline and the two young gentlemen are old friends of Mr. Royal’s, and Mr. Mandrake has often visited.”

“He’s an old friend of Mr. Royal’s too, then?”

“I understand there is some business connection, sir,” said Caper, and a kind of quintessence of snobbery overlaid the qualification.

“Did it strike you that it was a curiously assorted party?” Alleyn ventured. “Mr. Royal tells me you’ve been with him since you were a boy. Frankly, Caper, have you ever known another week-end party quite like this one?”

“Frankly, sir,” said Caper, coming abruptly into the open, “I haven’t.” He paused for a moment and perhaps he read a friendly interest in Alleyn’s face. “I don’t mention the hall out of the hall as a rule, sir,” he said, “but, as you say, this is different. And I will say that Mrs. Pouting and myself never fancied them. Never.”

“Never fancied who, Caper?”

“The foreigners, sir. And what’s been seen since they came, hasn’t served to change our opinion.”

With a certain distaste, Alleyn recognized his opening and took it. “Well, Caper, what has been seen? Hadn’t you better tell me?”

Caper told him. There had been stories of Dr. Hart and Madame Lisse, stories that had percolated from Great Chipping. Caper digressed a little to throw out dark references to the Fifth Column and was led back gently to the burden of his song. There had been other stories, it seemed, of visits in the dead of night from Dr. Hart to Madame Lisse, and Mrs. Pouting had given it as her opinion that if they were not married they ought to be. From this it was an easy step to Nicholas. It was “common knowledge,” said Caper, that Mr. Nicholas was paying serious court to Madame Lisse. “If it had been the elder brother she’d have taken him, sir, and it’s the opinion of some that if poor Mr. William had come along first it would have been another story.” It was obvious that Nicholas passed the test of the servants’ hall. Caper said they were always very pleased to hear he was coming. The impression Alleyn had got from Mandrake and Chloris Wynne was of a vain, shallow fellow with a great deal of physical attraction for women. The impression he had got from his own brief glimpse of Nicholas was of a young man bewildered and dazed by a profound emotional shock. Jonathan, when he spoke coherently, had sketched a picture of a somewhat out-of-date rip. Caper managed to suggest a spirited grandee. Mr. William, he said, was the quiet one. Strange in his ways. But Mr. Nicholas was the same to everybody, always open-handed and pleasant. He was very well liked in the district. Alleyn led him back to Madame Lisse and soon discovered that Mrs. Pouting and Caper believed she was out to catch Nicholas. That, in Caper’s opinion, was the beginning of the trouble.

“If I may speak frankly, sir, we’d heard a good deal about it before Mrs. Lisse came. There was a lot of talk.”

“What did it all add up to?”

“Why, sir, that the lady was taken up with this Dr. Hart until she saw something a good deal better come along. Mrs. Pouting says—”

“Look here,” said Alleyn, “suppose you ask Mrs. Pouting to come in for a moment.”

Mrs. Pouring was fetched and proved to be a large capable lady with a good deal of jaw and not very much lip. With her entrance it became clear that the servants had determined that Madame Lisse and Dr. Hart, between them, were responsible for the whole tragedy. Alleyn recognized very characteristic forms on loyalty, prejudice and obstinacy. Jonathan and his intimate friends were not to be blown upon, they had been deceived and victimized by the foreigners. The remotest suggestion of Jonathan’s complicity was enough to set Mrs. Pouring off. She was very grand. Her manner as well as her skirts seemed to rustle, but Alleyn saw that she was big with a theory and meant to be delivered of it.

“Things have been going on,” said Mrs. Pouting, “which, if Mr. Royal had heard of them, would have stopped certain persons from remaining at Highfold. Under this very roof, they’ve been going on.”

“What sort of things?”

“I cannot bring myself…” Mrs. Pouring began, but Alleyn interrupted her. Would it not be better, he suggested, for her to tell him what she knew, here in private, than to have it dragged out piecemeal at an inquest? He would not use information that was irrelevant. Mrs. Pouting then said that there had been in-goings and out-comings from “Mrs. Lisse’s” room. The house-maids had made discoveries. Dr. Hart had been overheard accusing her of all sorts of things.

“What sorts of things?” Alleyn repeated, patiently.

“She’s a bad woman, sir. We’ve heard no good of her. She’s treated her ladyship disgracefully over her shop. She made trouble between Mr. Nicholas and his young lady. She’s out for money, sir, and she doesn’t care how she gets it. I’ve my own ideas about what’s at the bottom of it all.”

“You’d better tell me what these ideas are, Mrs. Pouting.”

Caper made an uncomfortable noise in his throat. Mrs. Pouting glanced at him and said: “Mr. Caper doesn’t altogether agree with me, I believe. Mr. Caper is inclined to blame him more than her , whereas I’m quite positive it’s her more than him .”

“What is?”

“If I may interrupt, sir,” said Caper, “I think it would be best for us to say outright what’s in our minds, sir.”

“So do I,” said Alleyn heartily.

“Thank you, sir. Yesterday evening after the accident with the brass figure, Dr. Hart came downstairs and sat in the small green room, the one that opens into the smoking-room, sir. It happened that Mrs. Pouting had gone into the smoking-room to see if everything was to rights there, the flower vases full of water and the fire made up and so on. The communicating door was not quite closed and—”

“I hope it will be clearly understood,” Mrs. Pouting struck in, “that I had not realized anybody was in the ‘boudoir.’ I was examining the radio for dust — the maids are not as thorough as I could wish — when quite suddenly, a few inches away as it seemed, I heard Dr. Hart’s voice. He said: ‘Let them say what they like, they can prove nothing.’ And Mrs. Lisse’s voice said: ‘Are you sure?’ I was very awkwardly placed,” continued Mrs. Pouting genteelly. “I scarcely knew what to do. They had evidently come close to the door. If I made my presence known they would think, perhaps, that I had heard more and — well, really, it was very difficult. While I hesitated, they began to speak again, but more quietly. I heard Mrs. Lisse say: ‘In that event I shall know what to do.’ He said: ‘Would you have the courage?’ and she said: ‘Where much is at stake, I would dare much.’ And then,” said Mrs. Pouting, no longer able to conceal her relish for dramatic values, “ then , sir, he said almost admiringly, sir: ‘ You devil, I believe you would .’ And she said: ‘It’s not “I would ,” Francis, it’s “I will .” ’ Then they moved away from the door and I went out. But I repeat now what I said shortly afterwards to Mr. Caper: she sounded murderous.”