Overture to Death (20 page)

“I don’t know how it got there. The supper-room was all scrubbed out on Friday.”

“It’s no matter. Did you look at the piano on Saturday afternoon?”

“No, I don’t think so. The curtain was down, so I suppose if anything had been out of order I shouldn’t have noticed. I didn’t go to the front of the hall. The one key opens both doors.”

“And only Dr. Templett came in?”

“Yes.”

“Could any one have come unnoticed into the front of the hall while you were in the supper-room?”

“I suppose they might have. No. No, of course they couldn’t. We had the key and the front door was locked.”

“Did Dr. Templett go into the auditorium at all?”

“Only to shut the window.”

“Which window was open?”

“It’s rather odd,” she said quickly. “I’m sure I shut it in the morning.”

iii

“It’s the window on the side away from the lane, nearest the front,” continued Mrs. Ross after a pause. “I remember that, just as we were leaving, I pulled it down in case the rain blew in. That was at midday.”

“Were you the last to leave at noon?”

“No. Well, we all left together; but I think Dr. Templett and I actually walked out first. The Copelands always leave by the back door.”

“So presumably someone reopened the window?”

“Presumably.”

“Were you on the stage when Dr. Templett shut the window?”

“Yes.”

“What were you doing there?”

“We — I tidied it up and arranged one or two ornaments I’d brought.”

“Dr. Templett helped you?”

“He — well, he looked on.”

“And all this time the window was open?”

“Yes, I suppose so. Yes, of course it was.”

“Did you tell him you thought you had shut it?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t think somebody pushed it open from outside?”

“No,” she said positively. “We were certain they didn’t. The curtain was up. We’d have seen.”

“I thought you said the curtain was down.”

“Oh, how stupid of me. It was up when we got there, but we let it down. It was supposed to be down. I wanted to try the effect of a lamp I’d taken.”

“Did you lower the curtain before or after you noticed the window?”

“I don’t remember. Oh. Yes, please, I think it was afterwards.”

She leaned forward and looked at Nigel, who had been making notes.

“It’s simply petrifying to see all this going down,” she said to him. “Do I read it over and sign it?”

“It would have to go into long-hand first,” said Nigel.

“Do let me see.”

He gave her his notes.

“They look exactly like journalists’ copy,” said Mrs. Ross.

“That’s our cunning,” said Nigel boldly, but rather red in the face.

She laughed and gave them back to him.

“Mr. Alleyn thinks we’re terribly flippant, I can see,” she said. “Don’t you, inspector?”

“No,” said Alleyn. “I regard Bathgate as a zealous and serious-minded young officer.”

Nigel tried to look zealous and serious-minded. He was a little shaken.

“You mustn’t forget that telegram, Bathgate,” added Alleyn. “I think you’d better go into Cloudyfold and send it. You can pick me up on the way back. Mrs. Ross will excuse you.”

“Very good, sir,” said Nigel and left.

“What a very charming young man,” said Mrs. Ross, with her air of casual intimacy. “Are all your officers as Eton and Oxford as that?”

“Not quite all,” rejoined Alleyn.

What a curious trick she had of widening her eyes! The pupils actually seemed to dilate. It was as if she was aware of something, recognised it, and gave just that one brief sign. Alleyn read into it a kind of polite wantonness. “She proclaims herself,” he thought, “by that trick. She is a woman with a strong, determined appetite.” He knew very well that, for all her impersonal manner, she had made small practised signals to him, and he wondered if he should let her see he had recognized these signals.

He leaned forward in his chair and looked deliberately into her eyes.

“There are two more questions,” he said.

“Two more? Well?”

“Do you know whose automatic it was that shot Miss Campanula between the eyes and through the brain?”

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?”

Fox went out and in a minute returned with Alleyn’s case.

“Have you,” Alleyn asked Templett, “as far as your memory serves, given us the whole truth in the statement you have just made?”

“I’ve given you everything that’s relevant.”

“I am going to put several questions to you. Would you like to wait until your lawyer is present?”

“I don’t want a lawyer. I’m innocent.”

“Your answers will be taken down and—”

“And may be used in evidence. I know.”

“—And may be used in evidence,” Alleyn repeated.

“Well?” asked Templett.

“Have you shown the letter to any one else?”

“No.”

“Did you receive it by post?”

“Yes.”

Alleyn nodded to Fox, who opened the case and took out the original letter between its two glass cover-sheets.

“Here it is,” said Alleyn. “You see, we have developed the prints. There are three sets — yours, the deceased’s, and another’s. I must tell you that the unknown prints will be compared with any that we find on the copy which Mrs. Ross has held in her hands. You can see, if you look at the original, that one set of prints is superimposed on the other two. Those are your own. The deceased’s prints are the undermost.”

Templett did not speak.

“Dr. Templett, I am going to tell you what I believe to have happened. I believe that this letter was sent in the first instance to Mrs. Ross. The wording suggests that it was addressed to a woman rather than a man. I believe that Mrs. Ross showed it to you on Saturday, which was yesterday morning, and that you put it in your pocket-book. If this is so, you know as well as I do that you will be ill-advised to deny it. You have told us the letter came by post. Do you now feel it would be better to alter this statement?”

“It makes no difference.”

“It makes all the difference between giving the police facts instead of fiction. If we find what we expect to find from the fingerprints, you will not help matters by adding your misstatement to the one that was made at Duck Cottage.”

Alleyn paused and looked at the undistinguished, dogged face.

“You have had a great shock,” he said, and added in a voice so low that Blandish put his hand to his ear like a deaf rustic: “It’s no good trying to protect people who are ready at any sacrifice of loyalty to protect themselves.”

Templett laughed.

“So it seems,” he said. “All right. That’s how it was. It’s no good denying it.”

“Mrs. Ross gave you the letter on Saturday?”

“I suppose so. Yes.”

“Did you guess at the authorship?”

“I
guessed
.”

“Did you notice the smell of eucalyptus?”

“Yes. But I’m innocent. My God, I tell you I had no opportunity. I can give you an account of every moment of the day.”

“When you were at the hall with Mrs. Ross, did you not leave her to go down to the auditorium?”

“Why should I?”

“Mrs. Ross told me you shut one of the windows.”

“Yes. I’d forgotten. Yes, I did.”

“But if Mrs. Ross says she had shut the window herself in the morning?”

“I know. We couldn’t make it out.”

“You noticed the open window, shut it, returned to the stage, and lowered the curtain?”

“
Did she tell you that
!”

Templett suddenly collapsed into the chair behind him and buried his face in his hands. “My God,” he said. “I’ve been a fool.
What
a fool!”

“They say it happens once to most of us,” said Alleyn unexpectedly and not unkindly. “Did Mrs. Ross not mention at the time that she thought she had already shut the window.”

“Yes, yes, yes. She said so. But the window was
open
. It was opened about three inches. How can I expect you to believe it? You think I lowered the curtain, went to the piano, and fixed this bloody trap. I tell you I didn’t.”

“Why did you lower the curtain?”

Templett looked at his hands.

“Oh, God,” he said. “Have we got to go into all that?”

“I see,” said Alleyn. “No, I don’t think we need. There was a scene that would have compromised you both if anybody had witnessed it?”

“Yes.”

“Did you at any time speak about the letter?”

“She asked me if I’d found out — I may as well tell you I’ve got a note somewhere from Miss Campanula. I thought I’d compare the paper. I’d been so rushed during the day I hadn’t had time. That’s why I didn’t destroy the thing.”

“When you opened the window did you look out?”

“What? Yes. Yes. I think I did.” There was a curious note of uncertainty in his voice.

“Have you remembered something?”

“What’s the good! It sounds like something I’ve made up at the last moment.”

“Let us have it anyway.”

“Well, she caught sight of the window. She noticed it first; saw it over my shoulder, and got an impression that there was something that dodged down behind the sill. It was only a flash, she said. I thought it was probably one of those damned scouts. When I got to the window I looked out. There was nobody there.”

“Were you upset by the discovery of an eavesdropper?”

Templett shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, what’s the good!” he said. “Yes, I suppose we were.”

“Who was this individual?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“But didn’t Mrs. Ross say who it was? She must have had some impression.”

“Ask her if you must,” he said violently. “I can’t tell you.”

“When you looked out they had gone,” murmured Alleyn. “But you looked out.”

He watched Dr. Templett, and Blandish and Fox watched him. Fox realised that they had reached a climax. He knew what Alleyn’s next question would be, he saw Alleyn raise one eyebrow and screw his mouth sideways before he asked his question.

“Did you look down?” asked Alleyn.

“Yes.”

“And you saw?”

“There was a box under the window.”

“Ah!” It was the smallest sigh. Alleyn seemed to relax all over. He smiled to himself and pulled out his cigarette case.

“That seemed to suggest,” said Templett, “that somebody had stood there, using the box. It wasn’t there when I got to the hall because I went round that way to get the key.”

Alleyn turned to Fox.

“Have you asked them about the box?”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Jernigham, Miss Prentice, every kid in the village,
and
all the helpers. Nobody knows anything about it.”

“Good,” said Alleyn, heartily.

For the first time since they got there, Dr. Templett showed some kind of interest.

“Is it important?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Alleyn. “I think it’s of the first importance.”

iii

“You knew about this box?” asked Templett after a pause.

“Yes, why don’t you smoke, Dr. Templett?” Alleyn held out his case.

“Are you going to charge me?”

“No. Not on present information.”

Templett took a cigarette and Alleyn lit it for him.

“I’m in a hell of a mess,” said Templett. “I see that.”

“Yes,” agreed Alleyn. “One way and another you’ve landed yourself in rather a box.” But there was something in his manner that drove the terror out of Templett’s eyes.

Smith came in with the transcript.

“Sergeant Roper’s outside, sir,” he said. “He came down with Mr. Bathgate and wants to see you particular.”

“He can wait,” said Blandish. “He’s wanted to see me particular about ten times a day ever since we got busy.”

“Yes, sir. Will I leave this transcript?”

“Leave it here,” said Blandish, “and wait outside.”

When Smith had gone Blandish spoke to Dr. Templett for the first time that evening.

“I’m very sorry about this, doctor.”

“That’s all right,” said Templett.

“I think Mr. Alleyn will agree with me that if it’s got no bearing on the case we’ll do our best to bury it.”

“Certainly,” said Alleyn.

“I don’t care much what happens,” said Templett.

“Oh, come now, doctor,” said Blandish uncomfortably, “you mustn’t say that.”