Ngaio Marsh - Overture to Death

But it was true that if she had this money she would no longer be so dependent on Jocelyn.

Mr. Copeland would be very well off indeed, for Idris was an extremely rich woman.

Dinah would be an heiress.

She had not thought of that before. There would be no worldly reason now why Dinah and Henry should not marry.

If she were to withdraw her opposition quickly, before the will was known — would not that seem generous and kind? If she could only stifle the recollection of that scene on Friday afternoon. Dinah limp in Henry’s arms, lost in rapture. It had nearly driven Eleanor mad. How could she unsay all that she had said before she turned away and stumbled up the lane, escaping from so much agony? But with Dinah married to Henry, then her father would be lonely. A rich lonely man, fifty years old, and too dignified to look for a young wife. Surely, then!

Then! Then!

The first bell, calling the people to eight o’clock service, roused her from her golden plans. She rose, dressed and went out into the dark morning.

v

The rector was astir at seven. It was Sunday, and he would be in church in an hour. He dressed hurriedly, unable to lie thinking any longer of the events of the night that was past. All sorts of recollections flocked into his thoughts, and in all of them the murdered woman was present, turning them into nightmares. He felt as if he was dyed in guilt, as if he would never rid himself of his dreadful memories. His thoughts were chaotic and quite uncontrollable.

Long before the warning bell sounded for early celebration, he stole out of the house and walked, as he had done every Sunday for twenty years, down the drive, through the nut walk and over the stile into the churchyard.

When he was alone inside the dark church he fell on his knees and tried to pray.

vi

Somewhere, a long way off, somebody was knocking at a door. Bang, bang, bang . Must be old Idris pounding away at that damned lugubrious tune. Blandish needn’t have locked Eleanor up inside the piano. As Deputy Chief Constable, I object to that sort of thing; it isn’t cricket. Let her out! If she knocks much louder she’ll blow the place up, and then we’ll have to get in the Yard. Bang, bang—

The squire woke with a sickening leap of his nerves.

“Wha-a-a?”

“Father, it’s me! Henry! I want to speak to you.”

vii

When Dinah heard her father go downstairs long before his usual hour, she knew that he hadn’t slept, that he was miserable, and that he would go into church and pray. She hoped that he had remembered to wear a woollen cardigan under his cassock, because he seemed to catch cold more easily in church than anywhere else. She knew last night that she was in for a difficult time with him. For some extraordinary reason, he had already begun to blame himself for the tragedy, saying that he had been weak and vacillating, not zealous enough in his duties as a parish priest.

Dinah was unable to follow her father’s reasoning, and with a sinking heart she had asked him if he suspected any one as the murderer of Idris Campanula. That was when they got home last night and she was fortified by Henry’s kiss.

“Daddy, do you think you know?”

“No, darling, no. But I haven’t helped them as I should. And when I did try, it was too late.”

“But what do you mean?”

“You mustn’t ask me, darling.”

And then she had realised that he was thinking of the confessional. What on earth had Idris Campanula told him on Friday? What had Eleanor Prentice told him? Something that had upset him very much, Dinah was sure. Well, one of them was gone and wouldn’t make mischief any more. It was no good trying to be sorry. She wasn’t sorry, she was only frightened and filled with horror whenever she thought of the dead body. It was the first dead body Dinah had ever seen.

Of course it was obvious to everybody that the trap had been set for Eleanor Prentice. Her father must realise that. Who, then, had a motive to kill Eleanor Prentice?

Dinah sat up in bed, cold with terror. She remembered the meeting in the lane on Friday afternoon, the things Eleanor Prentice had said in a breathless whisper, and the answer Henry had made.

“If she tells them what he said,” thought Dinah, “they’ll say Henry had a motive.”

And with her whole soul she tried to send out a warning message to Henry.

But Henry, at that moment, was pounding his father’s bedroom door, and into his startled mind there came no warning message from Dinah. There was no need for one, for already he was afraid.

viii

Dr. Templett was dreamlessly and peacefully asleep when the telephone rang at his bedside. At once, and with the accuracy born of long practice, he reached out in the half-light for the receiver.

“Dr. Templett here,” he said, as he always did when the telephone rang at an ungodly hour. He remembered that young Mrs. Cartwright might be now in labour.

But it was Selia Ross.

“Billy? Billy, have you got that letter?”

“What!”

He lay there quite still, holding the receiver to his ear and listening to his own thumping heart.

“Billy! Are you there?”

“Yes,” he said, “yes. It’s all right. There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll look in some time to-day.”

“Do, for God’s sake.”

“All right. Good-bye.”

He hung up the receiver and lay staring at the ceiling. What had he done with that letter?

i

Alleyn and Fox were at breakfast and Nigel was still asleep when Superintendent Blandish walked in. He was blue about the chin and his eyes and nose were watery.

“You must wonder if there is anybody except that jabbering chap Roper in the Great Chipping Constabulary,” he said as he shook hands. “I’m sorry to have neglected you like this; but we’re in for a picnic, and no mistake, with this case up at Moorton Park.”

“Damn’ bad luck, the two cases cropping up at the same time,” said Alleyn. “Of course, you’d have liked to handle our business yourself. Have you had breakfast?”

“Haven’t taken a look at food since six o’clock yesterday.”

Alleyn went to the hatch and shouted:

“Mrs. Peach! Another lot of eggs and bacon, if you can manage it.”

“Well, I won’t say no,” said Blandish, and sat down. “And I won’t say I wouldn’t have liked to try my hand at this business. But there you are: never rains but it pours, does it?”

“That’s right,” agreed Fox. “We get the same thing at the Yard. Though lately it’s been quietish — hasn’t it, Mr. Alleyn?”

Blandish chuckled. “Maybe that’s why we’ve been honoured with the top-notchers,” he said. “Well, Mr. Alleyn, it will be quite an experience for us to see you working. Needless to say, we’ll give you all the help we can.”

“Thank you,” said Alleyn. “We’ll need it. This is a remarkably rum business. You were in the audience, weren’t you?”

“I was, and I can give you my word I got a fright. Thought the whole place had exploded. The old piano went on buzzing for Lord knows how long. By gum, it took all my self-control not to have a peep inside the lid before I went off to Moorton. But, ‘No,’ I thought. ‘You’re handing over, and you’d better not meddle.’ ”

“Extraordinarily considerate. We breathed our fervent thanks, didn’t we, Fox? I suppose that conversation piece you’ve got for a sergeant has told you all about it?”

Blandish pulled an expressive grimace.

“I shut him up after the second recital,” he said. “He wants sitting on, does Roper, but he’s got his wits about him. I’d like to hear your account.”