Ngaio Marsh - Overture to Death

She sat quite still. The corners of her thin mouth drooped a little. Her short blackened lashes veiled her light eyes.

“It was Jocelyn Jernigham’s, wasn’t it?” she said.

“Yes. The same Colt that Mr. Henry Jernigham showed you on Friday evening.”

“That’s awful,” she said and looked squarely at him. “Does it mean that you suspect one of us?”

“By itself, it doesn’t amount to so much. But it was his automatic that killed her.”

“ He’d never do it,” she said contemptuously.

“Did you put a box outside one of the hall windows at any time after 2.30 on Friday?” asked Alleyn.

“No. Why?”

“It’s of no importance.”

Alleyn put his hand in the breast pocket of his coat and took out his note-book.

“Heavens!” said Selia Ross. “What next?”

His long fingers drew out a folded paper. That trick with her eyes must after all be unconscious. She looked slantways at the paper and the lines of block capitals, painstakingly executed by Inspector Fox. She took it from Alleyn, raising her eyebrows, and handed it back.

“Can you tell me anything about this?” asked Alleyn.

“No.”

“I think perhaps I should tell you we regard it as an important piece of evidence.”

“I’ve never seen it before. Where did you find it?”

“It just cropped up,” said Alleyn.

Somebody had come into the adjoining room. There came the sound of stumbling feet on the uneven steps. The door burst open. Alleyn thought, “Blast Bathgate!” and glanced up furiously.

It was Dr. Templett.

i

“Selia?” said Dr. Templett, and stopped short.

The paper dangled from Alleyn’s fingers.

“Hullo, chief inspector,” said Templett breathlessly. “I thought I might find you here. I’ve just done the P.M.”

“Yes?” said Alleyn. “Anything unexpected?”

“Nothing.”

Alleyn held out the paper.

“Isn’t this your letter?”

Templett stood absolutely still. He then shook his head, but the gesture seemed to repudiate the implication rather than the statement.

“Were you not looking for it this morning in the breast pocket of your coat?”

“Is it yours, Billy?” she said. “Who’s been writing comic letters to you?”

The skin of his face seemed to tighten. Two sharp little chords sprang up from his nostrils to the corners of his mouth. He turned to the fire and stooped as if to warm his hands. They trembled violently and he thrust them into his pockets. His face was quite without colour, but the firelight dyed it crimson.

Alleyn waited.

Mrs. Ross lit a cigarette.

“I think I’d like to speak to Mr. Alleyn alone,” said Templett.

“Can you come back to Chipping with me?” asked Alleyn.

“What? Yes. Yes, I’ll do that.”

Alleyn turned to Mrs. Ross and bowed.

“Good-evening, Mrs. Ross.”

“Is it so late? Good-bye. Billy, is anything wrong?”

Alleyn saw him look at her with a sort of wonder. He shook his head and walked out. Alleyn followed him.

Nigel was sitting in the Biggins’s car. Alleyn signalled quickly to him and followed Templett to his Morris.

“I’ll come with you, if I may,” said Alleyn.

Templett nodded. They got in. Templett turned the car and accelerated violently. Cloudyfold Rise leapt at them. They crossed the hill-top in two minutes. It was already dusk and the houses down in the Vale were lit. A cold mist hung about the hills.

“God damn it,” said Dr. Templett, “you needn’t watch me like that! I’m not going to take cyanide.”

“Of course not.”

As they skidded round Pen Cuckoo corner, Templett said, “I didn’t do it.”

“All right.”

At the church lane turning the car skated twenty yards on the greasy road, and fetched up sideways. Alleyn held his peace and trod on imaginary brakes. They started off again more reasonably, but entered Chipping at forty miles an hour.

“Will you stop outside the Jernigham Arms for a minute?” asked Alleyn.

Templett did not slow down until they were within two hundred yards of the inn. They shot across the road and stopped with screaming brakes. The pot-boy came running out.

“Is Mr. Fox there? Ask him to come out, will you?” called Alleyn cheerfully. “And when Mr. Bathgate arrives, send him on to the police station at Great Chipping. Ask him to bring my case with him.”

Fox came out, bare-headed.

“Pop in at the back, Brer Fox,” said Alleyn. “We’re going into Great Chipping. Dr. Templett will take us.”

“Good-evening, doctor,” said Fox, and got in.

Dr. Templett put in his clutch and was off before the door shut. Alleyn’s arm hung over the back of the seat. He twiddled his long fingers eloquently.

They reached the outskirts of Great Chipping in ten minutes, and here Templett seemed to come to his senses. He drove reasonably enough through the narrow provincial streets and pulled up at the police station.

Blandish was there. A constable showed them into his office and stood inside the door.

“Good-evening, gentlemen,” said the superintendent, who seemed to be in superb form. “Some good news for me, I hope? Glad to say we’re getting on quite nicely with our little job, Mr. Alleyn. I wouldn’t be surprised if we won’t be able to give the City a bit of very sound information by to-morrow. The bird’s flown to Bermondsey, and we ought to be able to pull him in. Very gratifying. Well, now, sit down, all of you. Smith! The chair by the door.”

He bustled hospitably, caught sight of Templett’s face and was abruptly silent.

“I’ll make a statement,” said Templett.

“I think perhaps I should warn you—” said Alleyn.

“I know all that. I’ll make a statement.”

Fox moved up to the table. Superintendent Blandish, very startled and solemn, shoved across a pad of paper.

ii

“On Friday afternoon,” said Dr. Templett, “on my return from hunting, an anonymous letter came into my possession. I believe the police now have this letter. Inspector Alleyn has shown it to me. I attached very little importance to it. I do not know who wrote it. I put it in my pocket-book in the inside breast pocket of my coat. I intended to destroy it. At five o’clock on Friday I attended a rehearsal at Pen Cuckoo. On my return home I was immediately called out on a difficult case. I did not get back until late night. I forgot all about the letter. Yesterday, Saturday, wearing the same suit, I left my house at about 8.30, having only just got up. I collected some furniture from Duck Cottage, called at Pen Cuckoo, went on to the hall, where I left the furniture. She was with me. The rest of Saturday was spent on my rounds. I was unusually busy. They gave me some lunch at the cottage hospital. In the afternoon I called at the hall. I was there for about half an hour. I did not go near the piano and I didn’t remember the letter. I was not alone at the hall at any time. I arrived there for the evening performance at half-past seven, or possibly later. I went straight to my dressing-room and changed, hanging up my coat on the wall. Henry Jernigham came in and helped me. After the tragedy I did not change until I got home. At no time did I remember the letter. The next time I saw it, was this afternoon when Inspector Alleyn showed it to me. That’s all.”

Fox looked up.

Blandish said, “Make a full transcript of Inspector Fox’s notes, Smith.”

Smith went out with the notes.

Alleyn said, “Before we go any further, Dr. Templett, I think I should tell you that the letter I showed you was a copy of the original and made on identical paper. The original is in our possession and it is in my bag. Fox, do you mind seeing if Bathgate has arrived?”