Ngaio Marsh - Artists in Crime

“Oh yes. We talked to Sasha himself, and to Lionel Shand who did the decor. I know both of them.”

“Can you give me their addresses?”

Miss Lee was vague on this point, but said that care of the Vortex would always find them. Patiently led by Alleyn she gave a full account of her week-end. She had stayed with an aunt in the Fulham Road, and had spent most of her time in this aunt’s company. She had also seen a great deal of Watt Hatchett, it seemed, and had gone to a picture with him on Saturday night.

“Only I do hope you won’t have to ask auntie anything, Inspector Alleyn, because you see she pays my fees with Miss Troy, and if she thought the police were after me she’d very likely turn sour, and then I wouldn’t be able to go on painting. And that,” added Miss Lee with every appearance of sincerity, “would be the most frightful tragedy.”

“It shall be averted if possible,” said Alleyn gravely, and got the name and address of the aunt.

“Now then, Miss Lee, about those two conversations, you overheard— ”

“I don’t want to be called as a witness,” began Miss Lee in a hurry.

“Possibly not. On the other hand you must realise that in a serious case — and this is a very serious case — personal objections of this sort cannot be allowed to stand in the way of police investigation.”

“But I didn’t mean you to think that because Bostock flew into a blind rage with Sonia she was capable of murdering her.”

“Nor do I think so. It appears that half the class flew into rages at different times, and for much the same reason.”

“I didn’t! I never had a row with her. Ask the others. I got on all right with her. I was sorry for her.”

“Why?”

“Because Garcia was so beastly to her. Oh, I do think he was foul ! If you’d heard him that time!”

“I wish very much that I had.”

“When he said he’d shut her mouth for keeps — I mean it’s the sort of thing you might think he’d say without meaning it, but he sounded as if he did mean it. He spoke so softly in a kind of drawl. I thought he was going to do it then . I was terrified . Truly! That’s why I banged the door and walked in.”

“About the scrap of conversation you overheard — did you get the impression that they planned to meet on Friday night?”

“It sounded like that. Sonia said: ‘If it’s possible.’ I think that’s what she meant. I think she meant to come back and bed down with Garcia for the night while no one was here.”

“To what , Miss Lee?”

“Well — you know — to spend the night with him.”

“What did they do when you appeared?”

“Garcia just stared at me. He’s got a beastly sort of way of looking at you. As if you were an animal. I was awfully scared he’d guessed I’d overheard them, but I saw in a minute that he hadn’t. I said: ‘Hullo, you two, what are you up to? Having a woo or something?’ I don’t know how I managed it but I did. And he said: ‘No, just a little chat.’ He turned away and began working at his thing. Sonia just walked out. She looked ghastly , Mr. Alleyn, honestly. She always made up pretty heavily except when we were painting the head, but even under her make-up I could see she was absolutely bleached . Oh, Mr. Alleyn, I do believe he did it, I do, actually .”

“You tell me you were on quite good terms with the model. Did she ever say anything that had any bearing on her relationship with Mr. Garcia?”

Phillida Lee settled herself more comfortably in her chair. She was beginning to enjoy herself.

“Well, of course, ever since this morning, I’ve been thinking of everything I can remember. I didn’t talk much to her until I’d been here for a bit. As a matter of fact the others were so frightfully superior that I didn’t get a chance to talk to anybody at first.”

Her round face turned pink, and suddenly Alleyn felt a little sorry for her.

“It’s always a bit difficult, settling down among new people,” he said.

“Yes, I dare say it is, but if the new people just do their best to make you feel they don’t want you, it’s worse than that. That was why I left the Slade, really, Mr. Alleyn. The instructors just used to come round once in a blue moon and look at one’s things and sigh. And the students never even seemed to see one, and if they did they looked as if one smelt. And at first this place was just as bad, though of course Miss Troy’s marvellous . Malmsley was at the Slade, and he’s typical . Seacliff’s worse. Anyway, Seacliff never sees another female, much less speaks to her. And all the men just beetle round Seacliff and never give anyone else a thought . It was a bit better after she said she was engaged to Pilgrim. Sonia felt like I did about Seacliff, and we talked about her a bit — and — well, we sort of sympathised about her.” The thin voice with its faint echo of the Midlands went on and on.

Alleyn, listening, could see the two of them, Phillida Lee, sore and lonely, God knew how angry and miserable, taking comfort in mutual abuse of Valmai Seacliff.

“So you made friends?” he asked.

“Sort of. Yes, we did. I’m not one to look down my nose at a girl because she’s a model. I’m a communist, anyway. Sonia was furious about Seacliff. She called her awful names — all beginning with B, you know. She said somebody ought to tell Pilgrim what Seacliff was like. She — she — said— ”

Miss Lee stopped abruptly.

“Yes?”

“I don’t know whether I ought to — I mean — I like Pilgrim awfully and — well, I mean — ”

“Is it something that the model said about Miss Seacliff?” said Alleyn.

“About her ! Ooo no ! I wouldn’t mind what anybody said about her . But I don’t believe it was true about Pilgrim. I don’t think he was ever attracted to Sonia. I think she just made it up.”

“Made what up, Miss Lee? Did she suggest there had been anything like a romance between herself and Mr. Pilgrim?”

“Well, if you can call it romance. I mean she said — I mean, it was only once ages ago, after a party, and I mean I think men and women ought to be free to follow their sex-impulses anyway, and not repress them. But I mean I don’t think Pilgrim ever did because he doesn’t seem as if he would somehow, but anyway, I don’t see why not, because as Garcia once said, if you’re hungry—” Miss Lee, scarlet with determination, shut her eyes and added: “you eat.”

“Quite so,” said Alleyn, “but you needn’t guzzle, of course.”

“Oh well — no, I suppose you needn’t. But I mean I should think Pilgrim never did .”

“The model suggested there had been a definite intimacy between herself and Pilgrim?”

“Yes. She said she could tell Seacliff a thing or two about him, and if he didn’t look out she would.”

“I see.”

“But I don’t think there ever was. Truly. It was because she was so furious with Pilgrim for not taking any notice of her.”

“You returned in the bus yesterday evening with the model, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Watt — I mean Hatchett and me and Ormerin and Malmsley.”

“Did you notice anything out of the way about her?”

“No. She was doing a bit of a woo with Ormerin to begin with, but I think she was asleep for the last part of the trip.”

“Did she mention what she had done in London?”

“I think she said she’d gone to stay with a friend or something.”

“No idea where or with whom?”

“No, Mr. Alleyn.”

“Nothing about Mr. Garcia?”